#i need to add a cover to my shelf

[kbandjelly]

IT'S HERE I AM SO HAPPY.

[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

songs to listen along with: the beast, etc..

art credit goes to Marbipa

OMG guys, I literally hat to let this one sit and marinate for a while even though I typed it out like so long ago. AND I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO ADD THE SONGS FOR LAST CHAPTER, DW I DID THOUGH. Ugh and I literally also just found out that i had a textbook for a class, i didn't deep dive into the syllabus. AHHHHH regardless I hope you guys enjoyyy !! our favorite characters have finally met!!

like always tell me if you’d like to be tagged !!

prev | ch.4

warnings: wrongful incarceration, bargaining, yelling, really bad british slang, mexican spanish (im sorry y’all im venezuelan ☠️)

word count: 3.3k

Chapter 3: The Beast

After going through the thick woods, trusting Felipe to take her to where she needs to go…

Y/N makes it deep and far in the woods and stops Felipe from galloping when she spots her father’s wagon. She looks at all of the scattered food, items, and even his invention. In worry, she clutches on Felipe’s reins tightly and directs him to keep on going. After riding Felipe some time, the air gets thicker and fog covers the entirety of the forest. She then notices Felipe starting to trot and make his way down a gravel path. She looks around the dead trees and notices the large gates and the grand castle in front of her. “What is this place…” she says nervously. Felipe then starts nickering and anxiously moving as he didn’t want to go inside the gates. Y/N had to get off to comfort the horse and calm him down. After a few moments, she turns around and peeks inside the gate to see her father’s hat. She opens them and she reaches for the hat and holds it tightly in her hands, her worry now increasing for him. “Come on Felipe, we have to go inside” 

She mounts the horse once more and goes inside the gate, going through the garden until she makes it to the steps of the castle. Y/N then gets off Felipe and carefully goes up the stairs, grabbing a large stick from the stairs as a weapon incase if she needs to defend herself. She then makes it to the top and carefully opens the door. Peering inside she walks in hesitantly, as she looks around. 

“Look Jess…it's a pretty girl” 

“I can see that Miles, I lost my hands.. Not my eyes” 

 Miles then peeks at Jess and whispers “but what if she’s the one who’ll break the spell ?” Y/N turns around confused at the sound of whispering “Who said that ?” She looks around to see nobody except for a candelabra and a clock. She quietly approaches the two of them looking at the inanimate figures confused at what she heard. Her thoughts however were shunned as she could hear her father’s cough from a distance. In her desperateness to find him, she takes the candelabra and goes to look for him. Jess looks at Miles being taken and she simply sighs. 

Y/N follows the sound of coughing to a set of stairs, as she gets closer she then peers into a hall that goes up a tower. She anxiously walks up the stairs as she yells out “PAPA ??” She walks up the stairs faster as the coughing gets louder “ERES TU PAPA ??”  Y/N then gets to the top of the tower and gasps seeing her beloved father inside a dungeon. She throws the stick to one side and places the candelabra on a nearby shelf and places it there. Y/N then gets on her knees as she looks at her father in relief after searching for him “Oh papa, que paso?? what happened to you, your hands are ice cold..” she says holding him tightly through the metal bars. Mauricio looks at her in awe and simply says “how did you even find me ?” 

“That doesn’t matter, we need to get you home !” 

“Y/N please…listen to me it’s not safe here, you must leave at once! This castle is alive !” he says in a whisper, tightly holding onto Y/N’s hands. Y/N looked at him confused until she heard a deep growl echoing in the distance. She grabs her stick once more from the floor and looks around the dungeon. She firmly grips onto the piece of thick wood, as she gains the courage to look around and protect herself and her father. “Who’s there, WHO ARE YOU ?”

“Who Are YOU?” 

The voice of a man echoes throughout the dungeon, his silhouette appearing in the distance. “I’ve come for my father..” Y/N says with determination in her voice. The sound of someone coming down the stairs is heard in the dark dungeon. “Your Father….is a thief”. Enraged, Y/N yelled out “LIAR!” The silhouette has now fully come down the stairs and standing before her, his silhouette still only seen “He stole a rose..” Y/N raises an eyebrow appalled at his words “I asked for the rose, punish me not him !” Mauricio looks at his daughter and shakes his head “No, Y/N don’t… he means forever, apparently that’s what happens around here cuando uno elige una bendita rosa” 

Y/N even more appalled turned to her father and back to the silhouette “A life sentence for a flower ?” A loud roar is heard as it approaches her even more, she steps back a little but not entirely to stand her ground despite the small shivers down her leg. “I received eternal damnation for one” the figure said, the growl in his voice becoming deeper. “Then take me instead” The figure growls and looks away and angrily says “YOU-” his expression then softly changes as he was shocked at how willing she was. “Tú....Tú tomarías su lugar?”

Y/N bites her lip and nods a whimper coming from her lips releases in her voice “If I did…would you let him go ?” The silhouette’s voice became a bit softer but still gruff in its dominant position “Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever” he says. Y/N looks down and blinks thinking of what to do next, she notices there’s a light right between them, separating the two from fully seeing each other. “Come into the light” she demands. The silhouette becomes smaller as she starts to see two large paws, she then looks up to see not a man but a beast with the horns of a goat, a thick mane that covered his entire body and crimson red eyes that peered into hers.  Y/N covers her mouth in shock and turns to her father dropping the stick yet again to hold his hands. “No, Y/N to te puedo permitir que hagas esto” 

Y/N kisses her father’s hands and approaches the Beast, her voice faltering to a whisper “you have my word..” The Beast then growls and opens the door dragging Mauricio out and pushing Y/N in, not even letting the two share a proper departure. He then drags Mauricio all the way out of the castle and throws him inside a carriage “Take him to the village” Mauricio cries out to him “SPARE MY DAUGHTER PLEASE!” The Beast ignores him and growls as he closes the carriage door “She’s no longer your concern…” Mauricio cries out to him to let him out, but The Beast was already walking back inside his castle. 

After a moment, The Beast is seen walking back inside the castle on all fours with an annoyed expression on his face. Miles had already hopped down halfway to meet him. “So, Uh Sir ?” 

“WHAT” the Beast growled out. Miles cowered a bit but then adjusted himself “soo uh since the girl is going to stay with us for quite some time, erm umm” he rubs his other two candles together “I was thinking that y’know you wanted too uhh, bring her to a more comfortable room” he says with a sheepish smile. The Beast growls at him and keeps walking up the stairs ignoring what he said. “Or not” Miles says. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Up in the tower after a week ….

Y/N wept as she whispered comforting words to herself. She thought about all of those times with her father, how he told her that home is where the heart is. But she wasn’t home, she was lonely and locked away. Her face drained as she thought of making the tiny dungeon her home, tears kept on spilling out as she thought about her poor father, all alone with nobody to lean onto in her terrible village.

She then sees a shadow loom over her and notices its The Beast. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye..I’ll never see him again..” her tears taint her cheeks that have been stained from the grime of the dungeon. “I-I’l never..see h-him again..” she says in between sobs. The Beast then looks at Y/N and a bit of guilt plagues his mind. He scratches his head and then considers what Miles told him earlier.. “I’ll show you to your room..” he says softly as he walks out the dungeon. 

“My room? But I thought -” 

“You, YOU wanna stay in the tower ?” 

“No..” she says softly.

 “Then follow me..” The Beast says.

The Beast then guides her out of the tower and back into the castle, taking Miles with him along the way so that he could light up the hallways. As Y/N is escorted, she looks around the castle and its statues and notices how dark and lonely the place seemed to be. Her eyes stare fearfully at a statue of a hideous gargoyle and speeds up to catch up with The Beast. 

The Beast heard her gasp and looked behind to see a single tear falling down her cheek, he looked back in his direction as he felt a bit more guiltier. “You should say something to her y’know” Miles says softly. The Beast nodded and turned to her “I..uhh…I hope you like it here” he looked back at Miles to see if it was ok. Miles then looks at him encouraging him to say a bit more. “The castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you would like…except the west wing.” Y/N’s curiosity perks up and she asks “what’s in the west wing ?” He growled out “IT'S FORBIDDEN”. His voice echoed out into the empty halls of the castle. He then takes her to a suite and opens the door for her. “If you need anything…my servants will attend you.” Y/N walks in and looks around the room. She then turns back to him and softly asks “but what’s your name ?” The Beast looks down as he didn’t want to remember his name, as he isn’t human or anything similar to his name. “It’s Miguel..”

Y/N nods as she looks back to the room and looks around. Miles then in a corner of Miguel’s viewpoint whispers “dinner, go invite her to dinner” Miguel nods and he tries to find the best way to speak to her “YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER…Th-THAT”S NOT A REQUEST” he says gruffly as he slammed the door. Y/N in shock of his words looked back at the closed door and back to the room. Spotting the bed she runs towards it and throws herself onto the pillows and cries her heart out. She hasn’t even realized that it has already started snowing outside signifying the start of winter.

About a couple of hours later, There was a soft knocking on the door. Y/N who was too busy crying hears it and softly says “who is it ?” She then hears a man’s voice “Its, Peter” Y/N approaches the door and quietly opens it and peers outside. She didn’t see anyone until she saw a serving cart with a tea pot and a small cup. “Oh wow you’re very pretty ma’am” he says politely with a smile. “I thought you would like a small cup of tea” Y/N backs up surprised at the sight and bumps into the wardrobe. Hearing a voice from the wardrobe she looks at it in shock “ooh, watch it ‘ere mate” Y/N backs up to her bed and sits down surprised. “B-but, this is impossible!” 

“I know mate, but ‘ere we are. Oh and the name’s Hobie” Y/N looks around in awe and surprise and just sits, processing the whole situation. The little teacup then spoke, “I told you she was pretty daddy!” Peter chuckles and pours some tea into his daughter “alrighty May, go and hand it to her, gently without spilling” Mayday happily hops to Y/N and waits for her to pick her up. “Why… Thank You” Y/N takes it softly. She then takes a sip of the tea and hums softly, enjoying the taste. “Wanna see me do a trick ??” Mayday then giggles as she breathes in and blows bubbles into the tea. She gets scolded quickly by her father though.

Peter chuckles and looks at Y/N. “Y’know, that took guts kid,” Hobie nods and agrees with him “the whole castle’s buzzin ‘bout it.” Y/N sighs in disappointment “but, I’ve lost my father, my dreams, I’ve lost almost everything..” Peter smiles and gives her a warm smile “aww, don’t worry kid, things always turn out better in the end.” Peter then realizes that he’s still supposed to be in the kitchen “oh crap, i forgot i’m supposed to be helping in the kitchen.. Anyways it was lovely meeting you” he says as the serving table wheels away from her room and leaves.

“Well now, let's get somefink good for youse to get dressed for the old geezer ‘ere.” Hobie then opens his drawers and sees some moths fly out “m’bad dovey” He then pulls out a nice dress for her and says “ ‘ere ya go, somefink pretty for you dovey” Y/N looks at the dress and smiles softly “oh, that’s very kind of you Hobie, but i’m not going to dinner” Hobie then shrugs and puts the dress back inside his drawers “aight then, youse definitely gonna make that geezer more laughable” he says. A small pattern is heard walking inside the room, Jess walked in and took a breath. “Come on honey, dinner’s waiting” she says trying to lighten up the mood. 

Down at the dining table however, Miguel is pacing back and forth anxiously waiting for Y/N’s arrival. He then growls annoyed “What’s taking her so long ....I told her to come down…” He then looks at Miles and a smaller candle who’s named Lyla. “aww come on Miguel, you do realize that she’s literally lost her freedom and her dad like last week” Lyla says, stating the obvious. Miles then nods and says “soo uhh, Sir, Haven’t you thought that this girl.. Might be the one who could break the spell ?” MIguel looks up to the two candles “OF COURSE I HAVE..I’M NOT STUPID” Miles then smiles and says “Then you fall in love with her, sheee falls in love with you, and POOF! We’re human! We should be back to normal by midnight !” he says with a confident smile. Peter on the table however, digresses on the situation. “Miles buddy, it's not that easy y’know… these things take time” Miles then frowns and softly says “but, Peter ...the rose is already starting to wilt..” 

Miguel then looks down and sits on all fours and grumbles “Oh, it’s no use..” he runs a paw through his large mane “it's just that she’s just so beautiful, and i’m well.. WELL LOOK AT ME” he says with a snarl. Peter then sighs and looks at Miguel “aww come on Miguel, you have to help her see through all of that” Miguel then growls lowly “I don’t know how” he says as his ears flatten to the sides. Lyla then grins and pitches in “then how about a quick lesson on how to be a gentleman 101: Sit up and try to be kind.” Peter smiles and also shares a few thoughts “oh then don’t forget to give her a sweet smile, come one show me one Migs” Miguel then proceeds to give the most toothiest and quite horrible smile, even Lyla had to step back a little out of surprise. “Now don’t scare her, charm her” Peter says. Miles then blurted out “Oh, OH and impress her with your intelligence!” Miguel looks at all four of them trying to absorb the information, his mind whirling at almost everything that he has to do, that just seemed utterly impossible. The quartet continued to bombard him with a whole bunch of manners until they all said at the same time “and the most important of all, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!!!” Miguel wipes his face from the small bead of sweat that was forming. 

Then, the sound of a door is heard opening, Miguel looks up in anticipation but is met with only Jess coming inside. “SO, evening everyone..” she says nervously. Miguel then raises an eyebrow “Well ? where is she ?” Jess takes a deep breath in, just knowing how Miguel is definitely going to react “soo, she’s…yea she’s not coming”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT ??!!!!”

Outraged, Miguel leaves the dining room and runs as quickly as his legs and hind legs could take him, all the way upstairs and into the east wing. Peter yells out “Nononono, WAIT MIGUEL !” 

Miguel manages to outrun them and make it to Y/N’S door and basically smacks it as hard as he could “ I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO COME DOWN FOR DINNER” y/n behind the door responds to him “I’m not coming” she says with a little huff in her voice. Miles, Lyla, Peter, and Jess just facepalm and shake their heads in disappointment. A sigh was even heard from behind Miguel from the huge letdown. “YOU BETTER COME OUT, OR I’M- YO VOY…VOY A ROMPER LA BENDITA PUERTA !”

Miles whistled and just said “so, just a quick suggestion , but uh….that really isn’t the best way to impress a girl..” Jess nods and sighs “Miguel just for once, can you actually just be polite to her?” Miguel gestured to the door “But, she is being so DIFFICULT”  Peter then comes beside him and softly says “gently Miguel, you’re spooking her..” Miguel groans and lowers his tone at the door “Will you come down for dinner ?” he closes his eyes hoping that she would say yes to this tone in his voice. “No!” Y/N says. 

Miguel’s eyes widened and his ears shot up in surprise and he gave a look pointing to the door as he tried to prove his point to the servants. Miles then says “suavemente y gentilmente…” 

Miguel then takes a deep breath and tries again, “It would give me a great pleasure, if you would come out and join me for dinner.” He looks up to the door slightly hoping that she would come out this time…although his temper is starting to boil. 

Jess coughs “COUGH- we say please- COUGH” 

Miguel rolls his eyes and softly says please

Y/N simply says “NO, THANK YOU !” Everyone watching the interaction watches in shock as they know he’s going to blow. 

Miguel then belts out “YOU CAN’T STAY IN THERE FOREVER”. 

Y/N on the other side of the door yells out “QUE SI!”

Miguel snarls and roars out “FINE THEN GO STARVE FOR ALL I CARE PINCHE DESGRACIADA”

He looks down to his servants “IF she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all” Miguel then growls out and runs off away to his room into the west wing. He opens the door annoyed and just grumbles to himself “I ask nicely but she refuses, like que quiere?? que yo hago? BEG ??” In a flurry of rage, he goes to a table where the enchanted rose is encased in a glass dome. Beside it is his magic mirror that was gifted by the enchantress. Miguel then grabs his magic mirror and looks into it “ensename la niña” 

The mirror then glows a greenish blue color and shows him y/n sitting in bed being comforted by Hobie. “Aww come on Dovie, the old bloke ain't so bad..” Y/N however was sitting in bed dejected and not too convinced. “I don’t want to though...I don’t even want to do anything with him!”  Miguel, shocked, puts down the mirror as he feels that same familiar feeling of hopelessness takes over his mind “who am I fooling…she’ll never see me as anything other than .... than a monster” he says as his voice shakes. He looks at the rose and sees a petal that slowly fell down and wither making the castle shake and crumble a bit.

“It’s hopeless…”

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @opalwitchart,

[lewdmommie]

No Expectations

Summary: y/n now has to navigate new complex feelings with König she didn’t have before.

Jealouskönigxreader💗

🎀Warning🎀:18+NSFW, Rough sex, raw sex, oral sex, language, angst, size kink, praise/degradation etc

Word count: 4.k

(Comment, reblog and follow)

This is part 2 of One night stand

Part 3

“No.” Ghost doesn’t even bother looking up from whatever document he’s scribbling on.

“Please, I’ll do any other cruel and unusual punishment you have lined up for me.” You plead.

“You don’t get to argue the terms of your probation. König is who you’re training with, no questions asked.” He says through clenched teeth.

“Why can’t I just work with someone else. There’s plenty of people on base.” You reach over snagging a mint from the decorative bowl at the corner of his desk. His eyes follow your movements. It wasn’t like you to not get along with someone, everyone on base either loved you or felt indifferent. Of course there was a handful that weren’t the nicest because of your popularity but König wouldn’t fall into that category. “Why do you want to switch partners? Did something happen between you two?” His question makes your eyes widen remembering how König was balls deep inside you just a few nights ago. Luckily ghost's eyes are locked on the paperwork in front of him. You stand turning your back to him, hiding the hot flush that creeps onto your cheeks.

“It’s nothing like that.” You say with false confidence. The small crack in your voice catches his attention. What was this feeling at the pit of his stomach, a feeling that made his jaw tense and heart pound. He finally looks away from the paper, capturing your gaze with an intensity that makes goosebumps prickle at your skin. He rises to his feet, palms planted firmly on the surface of the desk. “Fine. I won’t pry…I don’t have any other expendable men.” He rasps.

“What about you? It’s just three hours and it’s after work hours. We both know you don’t have a life serg.” You chuckle. If you had X-ray vision you would see the irritated expression under the mask.

“I am your superior. That means I have actual work to do unlike you sorry excuses for soldiers.” He flips through the piles of paperwork.

“That isn’t very nice sergeant, you’ve got to be more pleasant in the workplace.” You tease walking around the office space, touching things as you go.

There is a tall bookcase in the corner that catches your eye. Thick spined books with elegant writing line the shelves. Along with a small cactus and tank figurines, a picture frame stands out. A beautiful brunette woman holding a baby wrapped in a tiny blue blanket , smiles at the camera in a dated looking room. A shadow cast behind you, turning around, you're faced with a huge vest covered chest. He takes the frame lifting it over your head to sit on the top shelf. He smells of gunpowder and a Smokey musk, your back bumps the case as he steps closer. Naturally your eyes close not sure what exactly you were waiting on to happen. His arm retracts holding a black leather covered book with silver embroidery.

“Who was that woman?” You exhale as he steps away walking back to his desk.

“No one.” He flips through the pages, nodding to himself as if he’d found what he was looking for.

“Who was that baby? I didn’t know you had a kid, that must mean you’re married…who would marry you serg you’re so serious all the time.” You plop your butt onto the desk. He shakes his head fighting the urge to add another week to your probation for sitting on his desk. His gaze sharpens.

“The child is not mine.” He says.

“Oh a scandal, who’s child is it? I can’t believe your wife would do that to you sergeant, need a hug?” You open your arms beckoning him forward.

“I am not married. Don’t you have toilets to clean. Get out.” He pushes your hip off his desk.

“We haven’t even come to an agreement yet!” You exclaim, feet hitting the ground.

“Fine. I will train with you just for today if it’ll get you out of my office.” He offers.

“The rest of the week.” You barter.

“Two days.” He responds.

“Four.” You fold your arms.

“Three. Final offer rookie.” He shakes his head.

“Fine, three days is better than one.”

“You’ll be the one to inform König you’re switching partners.” The computer keyboard clicks as he enters something into the database. At this point he had to be getting off to your embarrassment, if looks could kill he’d be a goner. Ghost didn’t tolerate taking the easy way out, if two people had issues on base they would be addressed and resolved quickly. He always said there wouldn’t be war within our army.

“I-fine i'll tell him.” You sigh knowing he wouldn’t budge.

“Good,now leave, I’m busy.” He waves you off without glancing up.

~

Three days. That should be enough time for things to cool down between you and König, you think, grabbing a lunch tray. The line moves steadily as the staff ladles today's lunch onto each plate.

You smile at the older lady behind the table, holding out your tray.

“y/n, I’ve got your lunch packed up right here for you.” She bends down grabbing a brown paper bag with your name scribbled on it. She nods apologetically, placing the bag on your plate, peanut butter and jelly again…yum.

“Y/n! Over here!” A cute brown skinned woman with luscious dreadlocks waves you over. Maya. You and Maya enlisted at the same time, basically going through the whole process together. Without her, you don’t know how long you would have lasted here. when you two found out you’d be stationed at the same base it felt like fate intended for you to stay with each other, She’s the entire reason you planned to reenlist. Unfortunately your closeness meant she could see right through you, so you had to find a way to keep her off your trail.

“Hey May thanks for holding my seat.” You sit across from her.

“No problem you’d do the same for me.” She jokes biting into her apple. You unroll the wrinkled paper bag that looked like it could have something illegal inside of it. You pull out a poorly wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwich along with a juice box and an orange. Your nose scrunches at the thought of tasting sticky peanut butter and sickly sweet grape jelly again. You look longingly at Maya’s lunch, your stomach growls in envy.

“Peanut butter and jelly again I can’t believe ghost, do you want to trade lunches?” She pushes her tray towards you. You shake your head unwrapping the plastic and taking a bite of your sandwich.

“I like the pain.” You say in a playful tone.

“You’re such a freak.” She laughs rolling her eyes.

The mess hall echoed with chatter from various conversations, every table for lack of a better word, had their own cliques. It wasn’t like some cheesy highschool movie but everyone had their own friend groups they’d break off with during lunch. Guys like Ghost and König didn’t dine in the mess hall so when you see König leaned up against the wall watching you, it completely catches you off guard.

“What’s his deal?” Maya asks not even trying to hide the fact that she was staring back.

“We had a disagreement.” You sip your juice box averting your gaze from him.

“No way, you’ve been telling me how you two were getting along so well. Did something happen? I’ll kick his ass right now.” She says in a serious tone. König stood at 6ft 6inches tall with the body of a tank but Maya was statuesque at 5’11 inches tall with an extremely toned physique. He was strong but so is Maya, she trains with the men for fun. After long days of them making sexist jokes, She loved beating the shit out of them. She can squat 250+ pounds easily so you definitely don’t take her threat lightly.

“It wasn’t like that Maya, this one might be on me. I’ve been avoiding the issue instead of talking it out with him…” you trail biting the sandwich.

“Well then it sounds like you know what to do.” She touches your hand, nodding in his direction.

“Yeah…you’re right. I am a part of the special military forces. I’m not afraid of a conversation.” You shoot up ready to deliver the news of your new partnership with ghost.

Your legs wobble as you walk to the trash, throwing away your tray. You can feel his eyes follow your every move as you snake through the cafeteria full of people. He’s leaning against the wall with one leg, arms folded, peering down at you. His body language was reserved, there was an invisible wall stacked between you two.

“König I-“ you start.

“-We will not be speaking during work hours rookie.” He says coldly.

“König please I-“ he interrupts you again.

“Colonel König.”

“Colonel König. I need to talk to you about something.” You whisper.

“You’ll have to schedule an appointment during my office hours.” His voice is flat.

“You know what, fine, fuck this.” You storm off, fed up with his distance. His hand twitches fighting the urge to reach out and pull you back. Instead he watches as you slip further away from him. Truth is…he was scared. Scared that you’d reject him and that you’d felt everything that happened was just a mistake. He found himself pulling back before you could deliver the final blow. Your departure in the middle of the night showed him what he needed to know about your feelings for him. It was just a one night stand, nothing more…Right? If that was the case why was his chest tight at the idea that he’d just hurt you.

~

“You’re slow!” Ghost barks as your body hits the mat. You cough, holding your side. He stares down at you with impatient eyes, waiting for you to reset.

“Again.” He orders as you stand rubbing your ribs.

If he was holding back, you’d hate to feel his full power, he could toss you around like it was nothing. With your feet planted firmly on the ground, you step one foot back allowing more range for your dominant hand. Your fists are raised, just as König taught you, protecting your jaw. Ghost swings left punching the barrier of your forearms, it hurts, but your guard doesn’t break. You duck his right hook taking the advantage and hitting him with a quick body shot to the gut. He stumbles crashing into one of the wooden pillars in the training room. You advance keeping your guard up, to his surprise you rush him jabbing the hard material of his mask. One of your weak points was the inability to strike someone when they’re down. If he didn’t have military grade training, the mask would have shattered from the force of your blows. Before that can happen he attacks low, swiping your knees from under you. Your back crashes onto the mat, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze from the impact trying to catch your breath. Ghost towers over you with both wrists locked in his iron grip. You can hear him breathing heavily, his chest pressing against your with every exhale. Your legs wrap around him in an attempt to get the upper hand, he doesn’t budge as you try to flip his body. He chuckles at your struggle lifting your arms above your head to show off his strength. “Give up.” He pants as you wiggle beneath him.

“That isn’t what you taught me now is it?” Your hips buck against his waist. A tiny whimper escapes his lips, his hand lets your wrist loose to replace it on your leg. His cock strains in the tight confines of his cargos, if not for the thick material, you’d have felt him poking your inner thigh. Utilizing your center gravity, you rock your body using his weight to roll completely over, landing on top of him. Your legs straddle his thighs. without thinking, his big hands grab your waist balancing you.

“Who was that woman in the picture?” He struggles under you, your knees tense, locking him in place. Now he quite literally couldn’t run from the question.

“No one.” He doesn’t budge.

“She must be important if you won’t talk about her.” You implore.

“Since when are we worried about each other's personal lives?” He relaxes, no longer fighting back.

“Whenever I bring it up, you get this pained look in your eye…like something changed you. Like a piece of you is still hurting.” Your voice softens. His heart thumps at your words, he can no longer look you in the eyes. He wanted to fight the urge to let you in, to have you truly know him. No one knew him and that’s the way he likes it . If no one gets attached, then no one would be put in danger because of him. He didn’t trust himself to protect the ones he cared for after what happened.

“She was my mother.” He says finally.

“Was? What happened to her?” You lean down to hear him better, your face inches from his.

“I couldn’t protect her.” his voice was barely a whisper. You both jump as the training room door creaks open.

“Sorry I’m late y/n-“ König freezes with a tense jaw and clenched fist. After the heated moment earlier he planned to apologize for his behavior at practice today. He had decided to conquer his fears and give you guys a real shot. He wanted to confess his true feelings today when you two had some alone time but things just changed. You scramble off of ghost’s lap standing to your feet clumsily. König takes a step back as you approach him.

“This is what I was trying to tell you earlier…me and ghost will be training together for the next three days…” you ramble.

“Right. Then I’ll just leave you two to do your ‘training’.” He backs into the doorway turning on his heels. He wanted to go back there and beat Sergeant Ghost’s face in, break every finger he laid on you. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you back home and pound every ounce of anger he had into you. He wanted everyone to know you were his…but you weren’t and he had to accept that. He couldn’t stop you from exploring other options but he wouldn’t sit back and watch either. Ghost sits up watching the whole thing play out, he could see the anger seething off of König. He got the exact same feelings right before a mission, that sense of imminent danger. This was more than some silly fight between the two of you, he realized that now. He realized what you meant to König and now what you meant to him. His heart drops as he watches you run after König, he thinks about calling after you but chokes back the words.

“König please wait!” You yell running behind him. You grunt as he stops suddenly, making you slam into his back.

“What is there to talk about y/n? You don’t owe me anything.” He mutters.

“I know this sounds like bullshit but that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“You’re right it does sound like bullshit.” He says.

“I just needed a break from this…from us. Just for a few days.” You explain.

“You’ve made it painfully clear there is no us.” He snaps. His head shakes as if he wanted to say more but instead he walks away leaving you alone in the hall.

~

“How was your day” Maya asks, slipping on her purple bonnet.

“Horrible. May, do you think I’m a good person?” You ask, climbing in her bunk. She welcomes you with open arms, stroking your head gently. You nessel into her embrace, finding comfort in her touch. Maya always knew the right things to say, you could count on her to make you feel better after hard days.

“Of course I think you’re a good person y/n. What makes you ask something like that?” She strokes your hair, looking down at you with concerned eyes.

“I just needed to hear it.” she pulls you close, kissing your forehead.

“You know you can talk to me about anything.” She states seriously.

“I know.” You sigh.

“Well you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” She assures.

“Thank you may I love you.” You kiss her cheek before throwing your legs over the bunk and walking to your bed.

“I love you too weirdo, goodnight.” She rolls over pulling the cover up to her neck.

~

“Wider.” Ghost orders, slipping two fingers in your open mouth. You suck desperately, wiggling your ass in anticipation. A large warm hand pushes your thighs apart exposing your dripping slit, your back arches as they flick your beating bud. Who? You turn your body and behind you is a half lidded König looking back. His green eyes stare into your soul as he slides a thick finger inside you, pulling it out achingly slow before pumping it back inside again. Your gaze is snatched away by ghost and met with a stiff twitching cock. Clear pre-cum oozes from his flustered tip, using his thumb he gently opens your mouth, sliding his head over the plush of your lower lip. He hisses as you take him in fully, hollowing your cheeks to take him even deeper. You gasp as König stretches you with another finger, stroking the deepest parts of you. Wet squelching fills the space as your pussy drools with arousal. Saliva dribbles down your chin as your head bobs, swallowing as much of him as your body allowed. His head falls back as his tip is met with the back of your warm velvet throat. You gag, making your throat quiver around him, his hips rock sporadically , fingers tangled in your hair. “S’fucking good baby…that’s it you’re making me feel so good-“ Ghost whimpers, head lolling back.

“Ahhh uhn…” You groan, mouth full, as König runs the flat of his tongue up your split, licking away your slippery nectar. His tongue pets your stiff clit, sucking and licking every inch of your inner sex. His five O’clock shadow rubs against your sensitive lips as he pushes deeper, snaking his tongue inside your tight hole. Your jaw goes slack as he tastes you from the inside fucking you with his wriggling tongue.

“Focus on me.” Ghost growls tilting your face to meet his fuck drunk eyes. His hips move aggressively, pounding the back of your throat without mercy. He pulls out admiring the long glistening trail of spit connecting the two of you before thrusting back in.

“Are you ready to take me Prinzessin?(princess)” König calls, planting soft kisses down your back. You nod your head attempting to say yes but all he hears are small moans and gags. He lines himself between your plush thighs, his tip pushes past the barrier of soft skin. You can feel his dick pulsing so close to your needy cunt you begin to whine, you shake your ass hoping to inch him closer. “I’ll fuck you when I’m ready.” He grunts, stroking your inner thighs with his cock. Your womanhood is soaking wet at the idea that these two monsters were using your body to get off too. “Your thighs feel just as good as that pretty pussy between your legs” he moans fucking your thighs. Ghost pulls back, slapping the curved underside of his dick on your swollen blushed lips.

“Are you tired baby, do you want me to cum?” He teases rubbing his head over your smooth skin.

“She doesn’t deserve to cum yet sergeant.” König slams into you with one long stroke. Ghost follows suit, ramming the back of your throat and trapping your screams inside. König grips your waist holding you still as he absolutely rails you, your pussy flutters with each stroke. His curved dick kisses your sweet spot with every thrust, your walls clench around him when he pulls back. Your entrance squeezes his tip, trying to suck him deeper. With short frustrating thrusts, he fucks you using just the tip of his cock.

“You’re so greedy, you already have a cock in your mouth…and you’re telling me you want more?” He flicks his hips rutting deep inside you. His fingers dig into your hips so hard you knew it’d leave a bruise. They rock your body between them using every piece of you to make themselves cum. You hear an audible ‘pop’ as König uses his spit to lubricate his finger before teasing the only hole that wasn’t full. Slapping sounds fill the air as he pounds into you, massaging your tight little hole. Ghost starts moving faster, making tears fall down your cheeks from overstimulation.

“That slutty mouth is begging for my cum isn’t it?” He chokes, his dick spasming in your mouth.

He makes an inhuman noise as he slams into you one final time before shooting thick salty cum down your throat. König’s nails dig into your hips as he fucks you so hard, your stomach aches. He reached around grabbing your throat as his pace picks up…he was close.

“Can’t take anymore p-please König I’m so close” you cry, eyes rolling back.

“I love the way you beg.” He impales you one last time going as deep as your pussy allowed him. His cock trembles inside you as hot cum shoots from his pulsing tip. You fall to the bed in exhaustion, shaking like a leaf.

~

You wake up to the nagging sound of your alarm. Oh no you think pulling the covers up to your chest.

The sheets were soaking wet, if you didn’t remember last night's dream you’d have sworn you had an accident. Honestly you’d prefer if the infamous toilet dream was the culprit but that wasn’t the case here. This was a good old fashioned wet dream. You’ve had your fair share of wet dreams but König and Ghost…you had to be out of your mind. your brain probably used yesterday's events to generate some random dream sequence, it couldn’t mean anything. You stand, quickly stripping the sheets and making your way to the showers to wash off last night’s dream-like fun.

You get dressed and book it to the janitors closet to get a head start on your chores…something you never did. You couldn’t face either of them now, you decide to just bury yourself in your work. How could you talk This out? What would you say “hey I had a dream you two completely dominated me so we can’t chat right now?”. You’d rather die than ever admit something like that. Maybe this was a sign it was time to really think about your feelings. You need to truly understand how your heart works so nobody else would get hurt. You wondered where König was and what he was doing. Was he thinking about you the way you were thinking of him? You move the mop absentmindedly along the tile floor. You felt so safe with König, his laugh could light up a room, he was beautiful inside and out. But something about Ghost intrigued you and left you wanting more. You had to come up with a fair way to get to know both of them without anyone getting hurt.

~

“Maya, what if I wanted to date two people at once?” You lean over the lunch table so no one else would hear you. She’s quiet for a second, waiting for you to laugh but she sees how serious you are.

“What the hell are you talking about y/n?” She plops an orange slice in her mouth.

“Just hypothetically, how would you go about that?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Well…communication. Both parties would have to have a mutual understanding. Consent is key.” She explains.

“So just show your interest in the idea and inform them of the terms?”

“Right, but the real question is why would you want to do something like that?” She tilts her head.

“First of all it’s hypothetical, and second why should someone have to choose between two people they barely know. Shouldn’t they get the chance to atleast get to know each person.” You take a disgusting bite of your sandwich.

“Well…the person can try being friends with them first. That way there are no expectations.”

“What if they are stubborn and expect an answer right away?” You ask doe eyed. Maya pats your head supportively.

“Then they aren’t the ones for you.” You nod, shooting from your chair.

“God you’re so smart. I gotta go! See you later!” You yell back running out of the mess hall leaving your half eaten lunch.

~

You burst through ghosts office door without knocking as usual and as usual he gives you an annoyed look. To your surprise König sits at the opposite side of the desk, your guess is he’s being briefed on the next mission. His legs are wide as he leans back in his chair staring back at you silently.

“Great, you're both here.” You start.

“What do you want Rookie?” Ghost asks.

“We need to talk…” König stands, not wanting to hear whatever conversation you had to have with ghost.

“All of us.” he turns back to face you.

To be continued?…

[faeryarchives]

to my beloved (octavinelle x gn!s/o)

requested by anon: Hello! Welcome back from your hiatus! Hope you’re doing alright and relaxing. For request, may I request headcanons of Azul, Floyd, and Jade please? Pre-established relationship and their gn!s/o who likes to give gifts as a love language? Like handmade gifts or found trinkets/baubles the boys might enjoy. Thank you for your consideration! note: anon u are so sweet 🤍 hihi gift giving love language with octatrio sounds so interesting + SO i got into debate last night with my friends on what pre established means if it has no label yet or just having a crush so i decided to write it at the stat of their relationship recent works: i'm not jealous !! (savanaclaw x gn!reader) & octavinelle with a fischl like female reader! & let me kiss you

💌 azul ashengrotto

"oh, a gift for me? do perhaps need my help?" "oh silly azul! i knitted that octopus keychain for you! don't you want to have a little companion while you work?"

this was new to azul - both being in relationship with you and receiving such gifts because as someone wary of apparent gestures of goodwill and believing that “all contracts come with a price” he isn't use to receiving gifts just because it reminds you of him

is it for real? he tried asking you for the fifth time to confirm only to receive the same answer over and over again

he never met someone as generous as him 😭

"azul! azul! look! i got us matching bracelet, this one actually matches your eyes." "o-oh my word, matching bracelets?! aren't we too young for that?!" "...'zul we just kissed earlie-"

having to receive gifts from you just makes his heart so full especially when you also give him coins! + adds it to his collection

expect to see him putting some of your gifts on a special shelf in his office while your other gifts especially plushies are safely tucked in his bed (he sleeps hugging them)

as much as he loves receiving gifts from you, azul wants to give you with the same thought as you have - giving you the things that reminds him of you

"please my love, accept my gift. you've showered me so much love. it would be just fair if i also shower you the same"

💌 jade leech

at first jade was confused - why are you avoiding his eyes and hiding something behind your back?

"love, what are you hiding behind your back" "jade! funny thing, so the ghosts at the ramshackle dorm got me into knitting and so i was thinking maybe a scarf would be nice so-" "so this is a scarf you made for... me? i love it." "really?!"

giving you a little push was his best decision because before jade knew it - his room is covered with gifts from you

receiving something from you as well as seeing you smiling and happy is the best thing he could ever get as a gift

always show your gift to floyd every time to the point that the other eel start to whine to you about jade bragging

"jade cried?!" "yeah! he was wiping his tears after opening one of your letters with "open when you are happy"!" "he can cry...?"

he couldn't help it you know - receiving small trinkets to small envelops with letters from you? can a person could even love him more than this?

in return, jade would try to give you more practical gifts like the things that needs to be repaired back at your dorm, he would replace it with a functioning one! feeling cold and alone at night even when you are with grim - this eel will give you the most comfortable pillows and blankets and even gift grim a new bed!

"jade, i don't think i deserve it?" "nonsense, you deserve everything in this world has to offer."

💌 floyd leech

"floyd, do you have a moment?" "what's up shrimpy- oh, a shrimp brooch?" "i found it while going on shopping with grim earlier at sam's shop, i just thought you might like it."

like it? floyd loves it! you will never catch him not having that brooch on him every day + wears it like a medal

but there was so much more he didn't expect like you to have more under your sleeves!

"an explosion box for me? shrimpy, i thought you were busy this whole week?" "i did! but i will be never busy in creating and giving you something while i am away."

floyd is more like a physical touch giver but seeing you putting so much effort in your gifts - giving him from small to big valuable things it would be unfair if he doesn't give anything back (or so he thought)

this eel tried asking what you want only to receive vague answers

"what do you want shrimpy?" "i don't really need anything in return you know? i gave you gifts because i love to shower you with it." "so it's okay to also give you anything?"

and by mean of anything - you were in for a ride because you two meant things differently 😭

floyd is the type to always let you borrow his clothes from time to time and sometimes gifts you the same jacket for you to guys match + seeing an eel plushie? bought and giving it to you for you to hug your child every night (he said its your child now)

it doesn't take too long for both of you showering each other with gifts 😭 he never knew it would be this fun to think something for you

"you were looking at that necklace when we were walking around town, so i thought it would be a perfect fit for you. do you love it, shrimpy?"

[pullhisteeth]

worry lines | eddie munson

requested here -`♡´- your ex turns up and Eddie gets jealous. idiots in love! 4.7k

cw !!! for a borderline abusive (ex-)boyfriend. 18+ please and thank you x

contains hurt/comfort, fluff, jealous!Eddie, fem!reader, conflict, shitty ex-boyfriend. everyone’s in their early 20s

-

He was cruel, Eddie knows that much. Cruel enough that it took weeks and lots of gentle handling to coax it out of you. 

You were a shell of yourself until you weren’t. Eddie doesn’t know the details, because who would he be to make you relive it if you didn’t want to? But he knows enough to sear a tar-black scorch mark in his gut, a branding, a fury reserved only for him.

And he’s perhaps a little oblivious to it, but Eddie’s patience never went unnoticed by you. The two of you might be like parallel lines - apparently doomed to just miss one another forever - but you’re still filled to the brim with giddy love for him. The fact he stuck around through it all only adds fuel to the fire. Something unruly burns behind your eyes every time you think about him.

“What about this one?”

You hold up a record and show him the front while you peer at the back. Eddie looks up from the stack he’s been flipping through for the past three minutes.

“Garbage,” he mutters, eyes back on his busy fingers. 

“What?!” you exclaim, mouth wide and attempting to hide a grin. You’re fighting him for fun, really; you’re already putting the record back where you found it. “It came out, like, a month ago! How’ve you heard it already?” 

“Gareth’s mom got it for him for his birthday,” he tells you without looking at you, side stepping only slightly to move onto the next box of albums. He’s close enough now that you could lean over and bump his shoulder with your own. You don’t.

You sigh, though it’s bright with amusement. You go back to your own shelf, eyeing up the scarce new releases stock that Trax only manages to update every few months.

“No shit,” you whisper, grabbing with greedy hands at the record you’ve spotted. You catch Eddie’s attention, his own hands stopping as he looks over. “I’ve been looking for this everywhere!”

He smiles, not because he likes the album - it’s The Cure, and they’re far too British, even for him - but because he likes your smile. Sometimes you make a face, with your mouth twisted to the right, because you’re holding it back. You told him once that you don’t like your smile very much, that it’s too wide, too toothy. He couldn’t disagree more, and when he catches you in these moments, the ones just before you realise you’re grinning and close your mouth, he cherishes it.

“You want it?” he asks, tone nothing but genuine.

“Fuck off, Eds,” you say anyway, still smiling. He’s lapping it up. “I can buy it myself now, don’t need your filthy drug money.”

He elbows you softly with an expression of faux offence. “Hey, y’didn’t mind my filthy money all those times it got you food at Benny’s.”

This makes you giggle, and Eddie is on cloud nine.

You tear your eyes away from the cover to meet his and he damn near keels over; it’s like a mallet on his temple, a slap across the cheek. He could look at your eyes forever and it’d never not hurt.

“Can I buy you one?” you ask him, adding “please?” when he gives you a look like he’s about to tell you no.

“Absolutely not,” he says, still grinning.

“But you’ve bought me so many!” You’re closer now, toe to toe with him, beaming back at him and gripping the record between clenched fingers. “I make my own money now. Consider it me payin’ you back, or at least starting to.”

“You don’t have to pay me back,” he mutters, “I like buyin’ you records. At least it meant you listened to somethin’ other than this shit.” He bumps the bottom of the cardboard sleeve with his fist.

“Hey,” you bite, pulling it out of his reach. “I like The Cure.”

“I know y’do, that’s the problem.”

You look at him for a beat, one so brief he only just gets a chance to take in your pensive face - adorable - before you scrunch your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.

“Suit yourself,” you say, turning on your heels and marching down the aisle, heading for the cash register.

He watches you cross the store, the way your walk shifts from comical to confident. This walk is familiar to him; it’s your I’m-nervous-because-I’m-in-public walk.

His eyes are still on you when you take your change from the girl behind the desk. He watches you pocket it, and catches your self-satisfied smile as you turn. And then he watches as it falters, and your face drains of colour, and he feels himself walking over to you before he has time to think about it.

You’re looking at the door, where the bell’s just chimed, and the bottom of your stomach’s fallen away. Heart in your throat, you stare blankly at the man who just walked in.

“Oh, hey,” he says, though he may as well be on the other side of the glass for the way he sounds so distant. He shakes snow off his hair and you feel the ghost of it between your fingers. “Fancy seein’ you here.”

You feel Eddie before you can muster up a response. He stands behind you, just close enough that, if you wanted to, you could reach behind and take his hand.

“Hey,” he says lowly, just by your ear, words for you alone. “Who’s this?”

There’s something simmering in his voice, something defensive. He knows.

“Uh, hi,” you squeak, fingers clutching the plastic bag you’re holding to keep them from shaking. “Hi- uh, Eds, this is, uh-”

“Tom,” the man says, sticking a gloved hand out to Eddie. You feel him shift slowly behind you; his eyes move between the back of your head and the man in front of you a few times before he returns the gesture.

He’s handsome, Eddie thinks. Better looking than he is, anyway. Cleaner, softer; none of the hard edges Eddie harbours that he doesn’t know you think are soft as anything.

“We used to go out,” you say quickly, before Tom tries to explain it himself and makes you feel smaller than you already do. You hope Eddie gets the hint.

He does. The burning in his gut flares and his hands clench into fists without him meaning them to.

“Eddie,” he states, sharp and blunt.

“We were just, uh- We’re headed out,” you say, and the way you’ve come over all nervous and quiet is almost enough to make Eddie’s heart split right down the middle. He hovers a hand over the small of your back and steps around you, around Tom, until you follow him.

“Well, see you around,” he says as the bell chimes again and Eddie damn near pulls you out into the snow.

The cold, damp flakes that land on your flushed cheeks are a sweet relief. So are Eddie’s hands, which wrap around yours to take the bag from you. He doesn’t miss how they shake.

“Fuck,” you breathe. The air escapes your lungs and doesn’t return for a second, long enough that you have to think to inhale. Eddie looks you over, desperate to pat you, fawn over you, kiss the snowflake off the bridge of your nose.

He opts for something safer. “You alright?”

The busy Indianapolis sidewalk doesn’t allow for too much fussing, and you’re quietly grateful for the bustling Saturday afternoon crowd pushing the two of you along and away from Trax.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, breathless again, trudging through stomped-over snow. “Just took me by surprise.”

“Yeah, no shit. When’d you last see him?”

“When I picked up my stuff from his place.”

“Shit.”

You walk aimlessly around the corner, until Eddie begins to lead the way. Wordlessly you follow him for six blocks, and think to yourself that maybe he’s getting you as far away as he can.

He knows a coffee place, apparently, one so much better than any of the ones around Trax that you know are just as good. He ushers you into the warmth and buys three pastries - one each and one to share - and you eat until you’re not thinking about Tom anymore.

-

Robin sidles into the booth beside you, the familiar shape of her slotting into your side without care. She nudges her hip into yours, a wordless signal for you to move around and make more space.

The six of you squeeze around the tiny table as Eddie and Steve place drinks down across it. Pints of beer, far too big glasses of wine and six sickly coloured shots decorate it and all of a sudden you’re counting to five and banging a tiny glass on the varnished wood.

It tastes of sour apple and coats your lips with a shiny, sugary lacquer. Eddie sits opposite you harbouring a fiery urge to lean over and kiss you clean.

You grin at him, missing the flicker of affection in his tipsy eyes, and lean into Robin, who takes a swig from one of the pint glasses.

“Rob!” Steve shouts, reaching over and grasping at the glass. “You asshole, that’s mine-”

“What’s yours is mine, dingus,” she slurs, her dopey smile met not by something frosty but by Steve’s own grin. The tenderness inside your stomach is just as sickly as the shot; you’re drunk on sugary liquor and an unbridled love for your friends.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The bickering stops as Eddie raises his glass from the table.

“A toast,” he says, “to the newly-weds.”

You grasp your own pint and raise it too, along with everyone else, as Nancy and Jonathan beam back at you. They’re the picture of happiness, her rosy cheeks blooming from joy and champagne, his smile so wide you’re scared he might split in two. Nancy’s so pretty in a simple, short dress, Mrs Wheeler’s pearls around her neck, and Jonathan looks so smart in his suit, fresh from the dry cleaners courtesy of Joyce. A long day of family celebrations ends here, in this bar on the east end of Indianapolis, four walls that have seen the six of you grow up and into yourselves.

Nancy and Jonathan thank everybody, and Steve disappears without a single one of you noticing, reappearing with a new round of shots. Robin takes your hand in hers and squeezes, which tells you that she’s putting off crying. You’ve already covered the shoulder of her new shirt in tears. Happy tears.

If some benevolent force happened to be looking down and caught a glimpse of your happy little table, they’d find that your mind and Eddie’s look very much alike right now. Dizzy daydreams of a future neither of you are confident in, that neither of you think the other would ever even dare to consider.

The distant call of your name pulls you up off Robin’s shoulder. You hear it again, and the voice it’s called in sends your blood running cold. Regardless it beckons you and you turn to look, seeing him approaching like a fucking stalking lion.

“Oh,” you breathe, “hi.”

His unwelcome hands spread over the back of the booth, his fingers brushing the back of your neck. You bristle.

He grins down at you and then looks up and around at everybody else. “Hey, guys. I guess these are your friends?”

All you can do is look up at him. Eddie can see you recoiling and his stomach churns.

“Oh, hi again,” Tom says, spotting Eddie. This is your nightmare situation, frankly, and you’re afraid of where Tom might take it.

“Hey, man,” Steve says. His words are lopsided because he’s three pints and four shots in and too giddy to recognise this for what it is.

“Steve, right?” Tom asks. His knuckles whiten as he grips harder.

“Mm-hm,” Steve hums, leaning just enough to the left that Eddie has to push him upright. In the brief moment he’s preoccupied with his untrustworthy friend, he doesn’t see the way Tom dips his head to meet yours, or the attempt at a kiss on the cheek that you dodge, or even the quick words whispered in your ear. He does see you flush, your face, already warmed by wine, becoming even brighter. Before he can ask what’s happening, Robin’s scooting out to let you stand, and Tom’s hand’s on your waist and you’re off to the bar together.

Nancy shifts uncomfortably beside Jonathan, her hands on the table. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Eddie says.

“Fuck,” Jonathan breathes.

“No way,” Robin barks, almost loud enough for Eddie to chastise her; you’re only twenty feet away.

Despite the stretch of time separating this moment from your last one with him, Tom’s hands haven’t become any less curious. They paw at you, never settling but instead trying each possessive spot he loved to frequent before you left him. Your waist was his favourite, but you’ve felt the unwelcome impression of his palm on each arm, your shoulder, the small of your back, and when he goes for your hip you twist just enough that he’s forced to drop it.

He’s telling you about his promotion. When you left, he’d been clamouring for it, doing everything he’d once confessed to hating: sucking up to his boss, shmoozing, working late. It pays well, apparently; well enough that he’s got his own place. It’s a five minute cab ride away. Want to come see it?

“Why would I want to do that?” you ask him, emboldened by the fiery rage his wandering hands are reigniting within you.

“Oh, c’mon,” he says, cooing your name with a sincerity so false that you taste the saccharine flavour of it on your gums, “you’re not telling me you haven’t missed me, huh?”

“No,” you tell him honestly, “I haven’t.”

“What, you with that metalhead or something?”

“Eddie is just a friend”, you bite.

“Yeah, right,” Tom scoffs, slamming his glass on the bar. He’s leaning closer, crowding you, and there are too many people behind him and all of a sudden you’ve lost sight of your table. “Knew I was right to put a stop to that.”

“Fuck you, Tom,” you spit, trying desperately to wriggle free. “I want to get back to my friends now, please.”

“Had his fuckin’ hands all over you the other day,” he continues, ignoring you. “Bet he tried it on when we were together, didn’t he?”

“No, he- Fuck, Tom, will you please just let me out-”

Eddie catches glimpses of you between passing bodies. He sees the way Tom’s crowding you and how you’re squirming and, honestly, he wants to walk into the sea.

Tom was never introduced to your friends. It was mostly his own choice, but Eddie and Robin and everyone else saw it for what it was. You just managed to get out before he cut you off from them all completely.

Now, in the low light of the bar, he’s not so certain that you’re done with him. Sure, you seemed unnerved when you bumped into him at the record store, but he begins to wonder if maybe you’d just been caught off guard, and if you’d thought about him since then. Had you called him?

“Hey,” Robin mutters, leaning over the table to Eddie with her eyes on you, “I think- I don’t know, she looks annoyed.”

Finally, there’s a gap in the crowd, and he sees it too. The pinch of your brow, and the squirming that isn’t squirming. You’re scared.

He stands so quickly that his head spins. He sees Nancy in his peripheral vision standing too, though she’s penned in by Jonathan and Steve. Eddie’s heavy footsteps take too long, he’s too slow; Tom’s hand is around your arm and he’s leaving, taking you with him, willingly or not.

He follows the silhouette of Tom, dark against the brash streetlamp light coming in through the glass doors. He can see the top of your head and feels himself pulled to you like a fish on a line.

He catches up just as Tom pushes the door open and stumbles into the snow, blinded by the fluorescent bulb in the lamp above. You feel the inebriation seep out of you with every second spent in the cold, your bare arms covered in goosebumps.

“Tom, what the fuck?” you spit, finally separating yourself from him. You feel the burn left by his tough grip on your upper arm. He’s still close, close enough that he can take your head in one firm hand.

“Just wanted to see your pretty face,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, his breath too hot on your face, “couldn’t see you properly in-”

“Hey.”

You turn just as Tom does to find Eddie in the doorway. His fists are clenched again and so is his jaw; you know him well enough to see your own anger reflected back at you.

“You okay?” he asks, looking at you, tender as always and it does something to dampen the fiery rage you’re keeping at bay. You nod as Tom drops his hand and scoffs.

“See,” he spits, “loverboy won’t leave you the fuck alone.”

You take three steps back. Eddie comes closer.

“Go home,” he says to Tom as you reach out and take his fist into both hands. He relaxes, and you wind your fingers together. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Tom says, “you can’t be serious? Look at him, babe, he’s…”

“Can we go back in?” you whisper to Eddie, whose stern face is beginning to worry you. He says nothing but tugs on your hand and, to your relief, Tom seems to back away around the corner as you retreat indoors.

The door shuts and Eddie turns, but before he can say anything you throw your arms around him and push your face into his neck. He’s startled, but not so much that he can’t return it, his own arms around your back, the pressure a welcome thing.

“Hey,” he coos, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“Thank you,” you say, muffled by his shirt. “Thank you.”

He pulls back, too worried to care to hug you any longer. Instead he lets himself fuss over you, a tentative hand at your jaw as he looks you in the eye.

“I’m okay,” you finally say, sighing. “I hate him.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. “I do too.”

“Thank you for not hitting him,” you murmur.

His fingers hover by your ear and just as you think he’s going to touch you, he lowers his hand.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I knew you’d hate that.”

He takes your hand again, a gesture which sends both of you independently loopy, and returns with you to the table, where Nancy nearly falls over Robin to get to you. As you reassure her and take your seat again, sandwiched between the two girls, Eddie takes a long swig of beer.

“Hey,” Steve slurs, leaning over to you. “Did y’know Eddie’s ears go red when he’s jealous?”

You look back at him with wide eyes as Eddie gives him a swift thwack to the arm, telling him to fuck off.

“It’s true!” Steve assures you. “I saw it with my own eyes! Like, five minutes ago, I-”

He’s stopped by more of Eddie’s playful hitting.

Quietly, just to you, Nancy says, “It’s true.”

You turn to look at her. She’s got that sparkle in her eye. It appears when she’s got a plan, or an idea, or knows something.

“For a minute, it looked like you were enjoying it,” she continues. “I bet he could’ve burned this place to the ground with how jealous he was getting.”

She nods to her left, where Eddie is dealing with a still restless Steve. He senses you looking and meets your eye, and the pretty pink blush that covers his cheeks is enough to make you look away.

-

The coffee machine pings just as the doorbell goes.

You jump, startled by both noises. Leaving the coffee to stew you pad through the apartment and open the door slowly, making sure to hide behind it to save the postman seeing you in your pyjama shorts.

When you pull it back, you’re surprised by the sight of your best friend, standing at your door in his own pyjamas.

“Morning,” he says, chuckling lowly.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you let him inside. “Did you- Did you walk here in that?”

“God no,” he says, “have you seen it out there?”

Truthfully, you haven’t dared pull the curtains back yet. “No,” you admit, locking the door again and wishing you’d had the sense even in your drunken stupor to put your good pyjamas on. You pat the front of the crinkled cotton at the top of your thighs, smoothing it down to no avail.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” you tell him as you step over to the living room window and pull back the blind to reveal what can only be described as a blizzard.

Eddie comes in behind you with two steaming mugs. “Slept on Steve’s fucking couch,” he says, laughing again. “Dimwit couldn’t get himself into bed and then the weather got too bad for me to get a cab home.”

Steve lives two floors above you, in an apartment much the same as your own. His couch is small. Eddie’s back must hurt.

“How is he?”

“Steve?”

“Hm.”

“He’ll be fine,” Eddie sighs, throwing himself onto your couch and kicking his feet up, socked toes just missing the side of your bare thigh. “Probably regrets the fourth round of shots, but at least he had fun.”

“Did you have fun?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I mean- Of course.” He reaches over to pick up your coffee and leans over to pass it to you. “Didn’t you?”

You take it from him and sit back, sighing. “Yeah, yeah, just…”

Your throat is suddenly too thick to drink the coffee. You stare at it, the deep mahogany liquid pouring steam into the tepid room.

“How does he still manage to ruin everything?” you ask, the question more an abstract frustration than anything aimed directly at Eddie.

He stiffens on the other end of the couch. He knows you don’t mean Steve, that your mind is elsewhere, on the impatient hands that couldn’t keep themselves from pressing painfully into your arm or the coddling of his hot breath on your face out in the snow.

“Hey,” Eddie coos, softening when he notices your hands shaking. He takes the mug, his own hands gentle on you to save from startling you, and replaces it on the table. “Here, c’mere-”

You lean into him, pushing your face into the softness of Steve’s sweater that he’s wearing. You keep apologising - variations of I’m sorry spat out between quiet sobs - and he keeps telling you it’s okay. One hand holds your elbow while the other smooths up and down your back, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, and he exhales when he hears the smile in your words.

“Y’don’t have to thank me again,” he says. You lean back and the two of you sit as mirror images of one another, one knee up on the couch and the other foot on the floor. You wipe your eye with the back of your wrist. Eddie yearns to knock your hand away and do it himself, to clean you up and kiss you when he’s done. He keeps his hands to himself instead.

“I dunno what I’d have done,” you whisper, “I mean, I don’t think he’d have done anything, but I still don’t wanna think about it.”

“I don’t either,” Eddie agrees before he can stop himself.

You look at him. There are deepening shadows beneath his eyes that you’re sure the couch is to blame for, and his hair’s unruly, matted from what you can only imagine was an useless night’s sleep, but your favourite thing - the mellow brown of his eyes - is just as pretty as ever. So’s his skin, pale and imperfect where he’s inked the left side of his neck and you can see the very top of the scar that stretches over his collarbone. He broke it when you were both ten, and he still teases you about how quick you were to run from him when you saw the bone and the broken flesh. You’re desperate to know if it’d be warm under your fingertips, your lips, your tongue.

“Do your ears really get red when you’re jealous?” you ask him. You see him stiffen at the question, his eyes narrowing just so, as his hands flex over his knees.

“Steve’s an asshole,” Eddie says.

“I know-”

“But yeah,” he says, the corner of his mouth breaking loose into a smile, “He’s right. It’s stupid.”

You kick his foot with your own softly and laugh.

“Why were you jealous?”

“Oh, seriously?”

“Yes! Why were you jealous?!” you repeat, grinning.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

He sighs, all dramatic and silly and you laugh until his restless hand lands on your knee instead of his own.

“I thought you were glad to see him,” he admits.

“I don’t know how you got that impression,” you say. You’re trying to ignore the soft rumbling in your chest, lest it take your breath away.

“Dunno,” he says, and suddenly he reminds you of sixteen-year-old Eddie, awkward and goofy, the boy you fell for.

“Well,” you say, “I’m very glad you came to my rescue.”

“I didn’t rescue you, you’re perfectly capable of doing that yourself,” he says, laughing. His knee knocks yours and his fingers spread until the tips of them are meeting the middle of your thigh.

“Still, it was a nice thing to do.”

He hums and you inhale as you place your hand on his. He looks up at you and the contact seems to provide some courage.

He says your name, and it’s softer than ever in the quiet of your living room. As far as the two of you are aware, there’s nothing beyond here; no blizzard, no hungover Steve two floors up, no shitty ex-boyfriends. Just you and Eddie and the string of starlight pulling you together.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a whisper, leaning in, already resting more weight on the hand on your thigh. Somehow, it feels like the most natural question in the world.

You nod. “Yeah, please.”

He closes the gap with his forehead to yours, tilting his head enough that his nose slots beside yours as he kisses you. You expected a peck, something nervous, but that’s impossible when there’s a decade of want behind it. He’s firm and certain as his hands finally take grateful handfuls of your hips, and your mouth burns as you kiss him back. He worries he’s being too handsy, especially after last night, but when you feel him retreating you take his larger hands in yours and keep them there.

This morning, as his tongue moves past yours, Eddie tastes like spearmint, coffee and tobacco. You miss the taste as soon as his lips paint tender kisses at the corner of your mouth and over the hill of your jaw, but you keen at the sensation anyway, arching into him.

“This okay?” he asks in a pant, pulling back and hiding a smile as he hears you whine.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You use shaky fingers to push curls back so you can see his face and, holding him in both hands, kiss the swell of his cheek followed by the other. “Thank you.”

“Stop thanking me,” he says, chuckling.

“What do we do now?” you ask him.

He looks back at you, feeling more whole than ever, and notices the creeping worry lines between your brows. Pushing against your hold, he leans forward and kisses you there. The satisfaction of feeling you relax is enough to keep him going for a thousand years.

“Well,” he whispers, and his breath isn’t too hot like Tom’s. It’s warm and friendly where it blooms over your closed eyes. “Go take care of Steve, probably.”

“Kiss me again?”

He does, wordlessly, softer than before, once on your mouth and another on your forehead. You wind your arms around his back, and with cheek resting on the top of your head, he says those fateful words into your hair: 

“Love you.”

You squeeze without thinking, smiling into his chest.

“Love you too.”

-

[pahtoosh]

mind reader

[image ID: a distraught Sebastian Stan looking at a sheet of paper. the paper has three sections. the first has three boxes labeled "yes", "no", and the last one with ellipses. the second one has three boxes labeled "please", "hugs", and "kisses". the last section has scribbles. the first section is in black and white and uses a mature font, while the second section is colorful and uses a playful font. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~1000 words

warnings: crowded mall. reader goes nonverbal. fluff

a/n: this was requested by @valetim09 ! thank you so much for your patience <3 I also want to add that everyone has a different experience with going nonverbal. this story is a reflection of my own. if anyone has a different experience and would like to share, I'd love to listen so I can write something different next time!

pairing: mafia!daddy!bucky x gn!little!reader

summary: Bucky takes you to the mall and you go nonverbal.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

“Just one more store okay? You’re doing so good for me, bubba.” Bucky praised. 

You took a deep breath, a difficult feat while your Daddy had you speed walking across the mall. He led you to a store full of bath and shower products. The storefront was brightly decorated for the holiday season, twinkle lights dangled behind animal statues posing with bottles of soap. This display would normally have you tugging on Bucky’s sleeve, begging to take a look, but today it was just another addition to your overstimulation. 

“Okay we just need to grab washcloths, lotion, and the bubble bath set for your little friend.” He squinted at the list.

“Sweetheart, which scent did you want to get for them? We’ve got bubblegum and blueberry written down but they’re also crossed out.”

He looked to you for a response but figured you might be distracted by the display shelf in front of you. 

“It’s okay, we’ll just get both. Let’s keep moving.” He darted back and forth between aisles, trying to gather everything as quickly as possible. Your daddy was so distracted, he didn’t notice how overwhelmed you were getting. All the different, potent scents in the store were no help. For the moment, the only thing you could do was hold onto Bucky’s sleeve with one hand and use your other to cover your nose. 

It took Bucky a while to find the items. By the time you finished checking out and walked back into the mall, it had gotten significantly more crowded. Ever the strategist, your daddy held all the shopping bags in his vibranium arm so he could wrap his other arm around you and move both of your bodies as one to a faster exit. 

He let out a relieved exhale once entering the parking lot. “Oh man, that crowd was crazy, wasn’t it?” Bucky loosened his grip so he could look at you. You were clearly listening, but didn’t respond. 

He looked at you curiously. “What happened to my little chatterbug?”

You simply tugged his shirt and pointed to the car. 

“Okay, we’ll go home, baby. I know that’s what you’ve been wanting.” Bucky looked both ways before stepping off the sidewalk and walking to the car with you. 

He helped you buckle into your seat and placed the shopping bags in the trunk before sitting in the driver’s seat. Some days Bucky would have a chauffeur so that he could sit in the backseat with you, but today was not one of those days. 

After making sure it was safe to go, he wasted no time before pulling out of the lot and driving home. Bucky wanted to ask you if something was wrong, but he knew you’d be more comfortable discussing it at home. He settled for softly playing your favorite music and glancing at you in the rear view mirror once in a while. 

When you reached the house, one of Bucky’s employees put away the shopping bags as he led you upstairs. 

“You doin’ okay, baby?” He asked, holding your hand as you two walked towards your room. 

You shook your head. 

“Can you use your big kid words and tell Daddy what’s going on?”

You shook your head again. He helped you sit on your bed while he stood in front of you. 

“Okay then,” Bucky said, placing a hand on his chin. He looked at you carefully, as if he could tell what you were thinking if he just looked hard enough.

“Are you feeling extra tiny today?”

You shrugged, still looking up at Bucky unblinkingly. 

“Did something happen at the mall?”

You shrugged again. 

“Let’s try something new, sweetheart.” He went to your desk and picked up a crayon and a sheet of paper. “Can Daddy use these?”

You nodded. 

Bucky crouched down at your desk while he wrote on the paper. As with everything he did, he looked completely focused. His concentration face was a familiar sight when paired with the large oak desk in his office, but it looked a little silly and out of place with your bright, plastic table. The only seats available were a few floor cushions. He settled for sitting on the floor as to not mess up your cushions with his “outside pants”. You craned your neck trying to see what your daddy was up to. You could just barely make out a few letters before he was finished. He drew a few more lines, then handed you the sheet of paper with a hard book underneath and a new crayon. 

“Daddy made some ‘buttons’ for you, okay. You press this one to say yes, this one for no, and this one for I’m not sure. This spot is for you to make your own buttons. And this spot is if you want to write more. Does this help?”

You pointed at the “yes” button. 

His eyes lit up, then he complimented you for being such a fast learner. 

“Can you tell Daddy why you aren’t speaking right now?”

“Mall. Too much,” you wrote. 

“You got overwhelmed at the mall, bubba? And now talking is too much?”

“Yes.”

He let the crease in his brow deepen before taking a breath and relaxing his features. “I know we were supposed to have dinner with Natty and your little friends today, but how about we push those plans to another day? We’ll have a quiet night with just us. See if we can calm this baby down.”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes.” Then you created a new button. “Please.”

Bucky chuckled. “Even when you’re not speaking you’re still the smartest, most polite baby in the entire world. Can I give you some kisses?”

“Yes.”

He peppered your face with kisses until you were giggling and smiling so hard it hurt. You took things easy for the rest of the night, just watching tv, eating the dinner Bucky made, and listening to him read a book. You kept the button sheet that Bucky made in a special folder in case something like this happened again. After you added two new buttons labeled “cuddles” and “kisses” of course.

[cyripticchronicler]

oki oki so basically a muggle bookstore au where shy!remus is a worker there, f!writer!reader just moving into town, and after a while, shes a regular and remus starts to yk, get a little crushy crush. And it’s mutual 2 so thats gud. He finally asks her on a date or sum when its been 6 months since they like talked with like flowers and chocolate and everything (AWWWWW). THEN THEN THEN, they hang out at his house and the other marauders walk in and be like, “you finally asked her out? BOUT FCKING TIME!” And then they all laugh and hang out then BOOM smut! (If you’re comfortable of course!)

sorry if its a weeee bit long, its 1AM when i saw the cry for requests so 🤷‍♀️

BYEEE! (My signature emoji is 🚐)

Whispers of the Page - Remus Lupin

Pairing: Shy!Remus Lupin x F!writer!Reader

Summary: Having recently moved, you were in dire need of more books. But the last thing you expected was to catch the owner of the bookshop's attention.

Word count: 4k+ (I went overboard)

Warnings: Smut (My first smut ever posted plz be nice) Kissing, shy Remus?? Is that a warning?

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!! You're my first request EVER so thank you I appreciate it so much! I hope I did your request justice, I tried my hardest :)

Masterlist

⚝⭑☪⭑

Humming quietly, your heels click along the cobbled path. You hold your coat up above your head in a desperate attempt to keep your hair dry. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you sigh in relief when you find the store you’ve been wanting to visit for weeks now.

Rushing into the warmly lit shop, the bell jingles when you enter. The smell of old books and candles immediately engulfs you, warming your body from head to toe and you shift so your coat is slung over your arm.

Your heeled boots are quiet against the patterned carpet, and you take a few moments to take everything in. The bookshop is covered with books, ones that look brand new and others that have been well loved, their spines cracked and pages doggy-eared. Lamps light the room, placed in every nook and corner of the cramped space. 

Looking to the right, you jump slightly when you realise you’re not alone. Standing behind a covered counter stands a young man, book in hand as he reads quietly, fingers turning the page every few minutes. He’s dressed well, an old grandpa sweater tucked into a pair of brown dress pants. His brown, shabby hair shields his face, but you peek at the sight of his sharp jawline. 

Wanting a proper look at him, you mutter a “Hello,” heart speeding up when he looks at you, his gentle eyes meeting yours. You didn’t expect him to be so pretty. He’s gorgeous. You knew he’d be if his jawline was any indication. His face is covered with scars, but that doesn't diminish his beauty, it adds to it. His cheeks flush when he notices you staring at him and he looks down to bookmark his book before looking up. 

“Hi, welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?” His voice is warm and smooth like honey, a red flush warming his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. 

You smile at his shyness, moving to a shelf at grabbing ones you find interesting. “No, thank you. I’ve just moved and I wasn’t able to bring any books with me.” You hold up your hands that are already stacked with books. “I need to stock up.”

You hear him place his book down from where you're inspecting this fantasy book, listening to his quiet steps as he walks towards you. He leans against the shelf beside you, awkwardly placing his hand on his hip before dropping it, falling to his side as he stands straight, cheeks still tinted red. 

“Do you need any book recommendations?” He questions, his eyes finally coming in contact with yours. You feel a cool shiver run down your spine but you ignore it. “Yeah,” You shoot him a shy smile, “I’d love some.” It was a slight lie. Sure, you’d love more book recommendations but you definitely didn't need any to add to your long list of books to read. 

He starts listing off more books, seemingly more comfortable while he wanders around the store, picking up books as he goes. “So,” He starts, “You said you’ve just recently moved?” He inspects an older-looking book before adding it to the pile. 

“Yeah, I decided it was time to leave my home town and focus more on writing.”

“Writing, eh? What do you write?”

Your cheeks heat, though you will them not to, readying for the teasing to come. “I write romance books.” His eyes perk up, shooting me a small smile as he adds another book to the pile. “I love romance books. Written any that I’d know?”

I laugh, following him to the counter. “No, I haven’t published a book. Yet.”

He starts scanning the books, placing them in a brown paper bag as he does. “Well, you must tell me when you do. I want to read it.” His cheeks flush as he speaks the words, hands slightly shaking while he rings you up. 

You notice the cost being cheaper than you expected and shoot him a curious look which he just whispers a quiet “Half price.” You will your cheeks not to heat, paying for the books with a barely concealed smile. You go to leave, bag in hand but stop at the exit. 

“What’s your name?” 

He looks up from where he’s staring blankly at his book. “Remus. You?”

You mutter your name, trying your best to not skip down the pathway, already planning your next visit to the store. 

–

Your next visit was only a week later, and your mind coming up with multiple excuses to go back all week until you finally came up with a viable one. 

It’s your nephew's birthday soon and he loves reading as much as you do so you’ve decided to stop by the store to pick up a present for him. Bell ringing as you enter, you notice Remus isn’t standing behind the counter like before and frown. 

Warm glow guiding your path, you make your way to the young adult section, hands tracing the spines of books as you search for a specific one. Your head turns at the sound of shuffling coming towards you. Heating when you spot Remus making his way to you, a pile of books in hand while he searches for an empty spot on the shelves. 

He looks up and jumps when he spots you, eyes wide and cheeks flushing almost instantly. Biting your lip to withhold your laughter, you attempt to control your smile. “Sorry, did I spook you?”

He snaps out of his trance, shooting a bright smile your way. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He laughs breathlessly, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck before he remembers the books in his hands and hurries to catch them before they fall to the floor. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have They Both Die At The End in that pile, do you?” You grin, gesturing to the books in his hands. 

“Not on me, but I think I have a couple of copies in the back. Let me just put these books away and I’ll grab one.” You nod and follow behind him while he puts the last few books away, waiting outside the ‘staff only’ door while he goes around back and grabs the book

Your next visit was only a week later, and your mind coming up with multiple excuses to go back all week until you finally came up with a viable one. 

It’s your nephew's birthday soon and he loves reading as much as you do so you’ve decided to stop by the store to pick up a present for him. Bell ringing as you enter, you notice Remus isn’t standing behind the counter like before and frown. 

Warm glow guiding your path, you make your way to the young adult section, hands tracing the spines of books as you search for a specific one. Your head turns at the sound of shuffling coming towards you. Heating when you spot Remus making his way to you, a pile of books in hand while he searches for an empty spot on the shelves. 

He looks up and jumps when he spots you, eyes wide and cheeks flushing almost instantly. Biting your lip to withhold your laughter, you attempt to control your smile. “Sorry, did I spook you?”

He snaps out of his trance, shooting a bright smile your way. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He laughs breathlessly, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck before he remembers the books in his hands and hurries to catch them before they fall to the floor. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have They Both Die At The End in that pile, do you?” You grin, gesturing to the books in his hands. 

“Not on me, but I think I have a couple of copies in the back. Let me just put these books away and I’ll grab one.” You nod and follow behind him while he puts the last few books away, waiting outside the ‘staff only’ door while he goes around back and grabs the book you want. 

“Thank you,” You grin when he hands you the book, walking to the counter while he follows. You spot a worn book on the counter and recognise it immediately.  “You’re reading Pride and Prejudice?”

“Re-reading,” He corrects. “It’s one of my favourite books.” He smiles, stuffing his hands in his pants pocket while he stares. 

“It’s one of my favourite books too!” You exclaim, rather too enthusiastically. “It’s tied with Emma.”

He breaks the short eye contact and scans your book. “I haven’t read that yet, but I’ll add it to my list.”

You grow shy, hands fiddling with your sweater nervously. “Yeah, you could tell me what you thought about it, too.” His eyes widen adorably at your words, cheeks red as a tomato while he nods furiously. 

“Y-yeah.” He hands you the book and you smile, making your way to the exit. “I’ll see you next time, Remus.”

–

‘Next time’ turned into visiting his shop fortnightly, your bank account getting lighter each time you visited the shop. Over time, through scarce conversation, you’ve learnt that Remus owns the bookshop and is the only one who works there, and that, out of his two best friends Sirius and James, he’s the only one who enjoys reading. 

He’s learnt that you’re working part-time at this bakery while you work on getting your first book published and that you’ve been writing for years, but only decided to turn it into a profession recently. 

It’s clear that Remus likes books, and he’s visibly more comfortable when talking about them. Instead of his quiet voice, he gets louder and waves his hands around in enthusiasm. You find it adorable and have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking him out every time. 

You’re not even sure he likes you. I mean, sure, he’s all blushy and shy around you but he could act like that around everyone. 

Months of talking and wandering around the bookstore have gone by, and every day you find it harder to control your infatuation with him. 

And, though you admire the beautiful bookshop, you’re dying to actually go out with him. 

And that’s what brings you here today, on a cloudy day, rain threatening to fall at any moment. You don’t have any books to buy, or any recommendations you want, you’re only here for one thing and one thing only; to ask Remus out. 

The familiar ring of the bell greets you as you enter, your eyes instinctively searching for Remus, spotting him in the corner of the store, his sharp features highlighted by the dimly lit lamps. 

He looks up from where he’s dusting a shelf, eyes lighting up as he meets yours. “Hey!” Walking over towards you, he reaches his arm out before awkwardly letting it hang by his side. Casting a look at the ‘Staff Only’ door a few feet away, his hands start fidgeting with his red patterned grandpa sweater. “I uh- I have something for you.” He mutters, suddenly shy as he avoids your eyes. 

Your eyes light up, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Really? You didn’t have to get me anything.” His cheeks flush even redder if possible, and you bite your tongue to hold back a loud ‘awww.’

“It’s in the back. Let me just-” He gestures to the back door before hurriedly walking through it. Your eyebrows raise when you hear loud thumping and quiet swearing.

“Remus? Are you okay?” The sounds of crashing stop immediately and he clears his throat before responding. His voice still cracks when he shouts, “I’m coming!”

That’s what she said.

A second later he comes back out, a hand behind his back as he attempts to hide whatever crinkles behind him. You take a deep breath and feign confidence. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you too.”

He nods in acknowledgement, using his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his nose. “I-I would prefer if I talked first.”

You nod your head, offering him a reassuring smile. He smiles in return before showing me what was behind his back. You can’t stop the small gasp from passing your lips, eyes wide as you take the ‘bouquet’ of books from his stretched-out hand. 

“T-” You clear your throat, “This is for me?” Cheeks hot, he nods and rubs the back of his neck. “I-I also bought you chocolates. I wasn’t sure when I was going to see you next so they’re still at home.” He takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. “Go out with me. Please.”

Your eyes widen an unconstrained snort escaping your nose. Cheeks flushing in embarrassment, you slap your hand against your mouth, and you watch as his head hangs in defeat.

You hurry to fix your mistake. “Wait! No, no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. I laugh in a lot of situations, whether good or bad- I once laughed at a wed- That doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that I’d love to go out with you.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

One hand still holding the bouquet, you reach your other hand out to rest on his shoulder, successfully gaining his attention as he looks up to meet your eyes.

“I do, I promise. I just found it funny because I came here today to ask you out but you- you beat me to it. I-It was just funny.” You shrug, awkwardly smiling at him. 

“So…You do want to go out with me?” You nod and his eyes light up, flashing you a blinding smile. “How about my place? Sunday? I don’t think my roommates will be home.” His eyes widen. “-Not that I’m trying to get ‘lucky’ or anything.” 

You nod your head enthusiastically, “Yeah! I’d love that.” Pulling out your phone, he takes it from your hand. “Just text me the address.”

Long, nimble fingers type in your phone and you attempt to distract yourself from his veiny hands. Your heart beats in excitement, mind already racing through what outfit to wear, and how you’ll style your hair.

How you’re going to get any sleep at all over the next couple of days is beyond you.

—

Knuckles against wood announce your arrival as you stand awkwardly in front of the door, comfy leggings and sweater barely protecting you against the cold, frigid air. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait long, Remus’ smiling face comes into view as he opens the door. 

“Hey, come in. It’s freezing out there,” He opens the door wider and you don’t hesitate in walking into the threshold, excited to get away from the horrible weather. He shuts the door behind you, the cold wind blocked off as your body finally starts to warm up.

“Wait here,” Remus says eagerly and you nod, taking the time alone to take your shoes off and calm down your racing heart. His house seems nice, a mixture of Remus and his two roommates Sirius and James personalities peaking through the decorations. 

You’re inspecting a miniature aeroplane that lays on a table beside the front door when Remus comes back, a pink heart-shaped box in his hand. He spots you looking at the plane and smiles, “James picked that out. He’s training to be a pilot right now. He loves flying.”

You nod in acknowledgement, shooting him a smile as an awkward silence fills the room. He scratches his head awkwardly before seemingly remembering the box. “Oh! T-this is for you.” He all but shoves it into your hands and you take it gratefully, carefully pulling away the heart-shaped lid to look at all the chocolates inside. 

You internally aw, “Thank you! I actually got you something as well.”

He perks up, eyes widening in excitement. “Yeah?” You nod, placing the chocolates down on the table and reaching into your bag to pull it out. 

His eyes are blown wide, lips slightly parted as he takes the string-bound pieces of paper from you. “No…Is this what I think it is?” He questions in shock. 

“If you’re thinking that this is my first official copy of my book then yes.” He’s shell-shocked, flipping through the pages and admiring the cover. “This-this is amazing, I can’t wait to read it.”

It’s like he can’t control himself as he walks closer to you, wrapping you into his arms, the scent of tea and parchment invading your nose as you stuff your face in his neck. You wrap your arms around his waist, too focused on the way he’s holding you to acknowledge the small ‘thank you’ he whispers your way. 

Pulling back a bit, you move your head out of his neck to look at him and he looks down at you with hooded eyes, almost like he’s in a daze. You reach up, one hand wrapping around the back of his neck, standing on your tippy toes as you lean forward. 

He does the same, licking his plump lips. His hot breath fans your face and your eyes flutter shut in anticipation. Pulling him closer, your lips are centimetres apart-

“Well, well, what do we have here?” You jump out of his grasp in seconds, turning towards the intruder while Remus swears. 

“I thought you guys would be back later.” Remus interrogates. You assume the ‘intruders’ are Sirus and James, easily being able to tell who's who from the amount of stories Remus has told you about them. 

Sirius is too busy sending Remus a teasing look to respond so James steps up, “We forgot something, don’t worry, Moony. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.” James leaves to retrieve whatever they forgot while Sirius stands, still smirking at Remus. 

He ignores Remus’ glare, turning to face you, “Hello! Sorry I haven't introduced myself, I’m Sirius. And you are?” He apologises though he doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. 

You tell him your name, watching as he shoots a teasing smile towards Remus. 

“I know you! Remus can’t shut up about you. Honestly, it’s either; ‘She looked so pretty today I almost died’ or, ‘Today's the day, I’m going to ask her out.’ Honestly, I probably know everything about you considering how much Remus talks about you.”

Remus groans quietly from beside you and you place your hand on his arm in reassurance - something Sirius doesn’t hesitate to wiggle his eyebrows at. “I’ve heard a lot about you too, it’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”

“-Yes it is.” James returns from his scavenger hunt, wallet in hand. “Hopefully now that Remus has finally asked you out he’ll stop talking about you so often. It’s always, ‘Her hair is so shiny,’ and, ‘Her eyes are brighter than the sun, they’re the light that guides my path, the sunshine to my moon-”

“Don’t you two have somewhere to be?” Remus’ dark, annoyed voice interrupts, cheeks flaming as he shoots a lethal glare their way.

James’s hands raised in surrender. “Okay then, I guess we should go before Moony over here kills us,” they walk towards the front door, cold air slicing through the warm room, “Remember to wear protection!” He screams before slamming the door shut. 

Turning to face Remus, an amused look on your face, he shoves his face into his hands but winces when he realises he’s still holding your book. His muttered threats filtered through the air and you bite your lip to conceal your laughter. He shakes his head, shooting me an apologetic look. “I am so sorry-”

“Why?” You laugh, “They seem great.” 

He visibly relaxes, “Really?” You nod, “Yeah. Now, what do you want to do? I have heaps of movie recommendations if you want to watch something.”

—

‘Ugh, as if!” Cher’s voice filters through the dim room, bundled in blankets, your head resting on Remus’ shoulder as you watch the movie. 

Eyes straying from the screen, you turn your head slightly to look up at Remus. He feels your gaze immediately, “Yes?” He asks, shifting his body so he can see you properly. 

You smile, “You’re just so pretty.” His cheeks flush red in record time, hand pulling you closer so your head rests against his chest. 

Long, nimble fingers play with your hair while the other rests along your back. You’re practically on top of him now, your legs between his own, face propped up against your hands that lean against his chest. 

“You’re pretty too,” He mutters, warm eyes tracing every inch of your face, filled with admiration like you were carved by Zeus himself. “Yeah? Are my eyes brighter than the sun? Do I guide your path-”

You barely noticed his small smile before his lips were on yours. Remus’ lips pressed against yours, emitting a muffled moan from your throat. His mouth takes yours in a mix of tongue and teeth, the hand that was resting against your back moving further down, resting on top of your ass. 

You prop yourself up with one hand beside his shoulder the other caressing his cheek. The hand that was playing with your hair now resting on your neck, gripped hard as he pulled you in closer, tongue mixing with yours like you were his lifeline. 

His lips move down your throat, the feeling in your gut enhancing as his hands move over your body, hair tickling your neck.

“Please,” You gasp when you finally move away, lips swollen and covered in spit. “Please what?” He questions teasingly, thumb reaching out to stroke your red cheeks. 

“I need you,” You whisper. Your stomach somersaulted at the hard feeling of something poking your stomach. Spurred on by his reaction, you kiss him again. He doesn’t waste a second in kissing you back, calloused fingers tracing your body, the pull of his lips eagerly smiling against your own. 

His mouth moved downwards, planting little kisses down your neck. Slowly, he shifts so that he’s on top of you, a mess of tangled limbs as you reach for his lips again. One of his hands slides over your hips and up your shirt. 

You gasp at the feeling of his warm hands against your cold body, goosebumps trailing after his touch. The other went to your ass, palming gently through your thin leggings. Gently, your hands trailed under his shirt, his hips pressing harder against yours. 

“Off,” You mumble through kisses, yanking on his shirt. He pulls away, taking his shirt off in one fluid motion before slamming his lips against your throat, wet mouth biting and sucking at your neck. 

You leaned into his touch, quiet moans slipping past your parted lips as you lost yourself in pleasure. Remus’ hips shifted against you, the friction sending a jolt up your spine. Hips moving on their own, you wrap your legs around his jean-clad waist, moving your hips against him, another jolt of pleasure shooting through you. 

He groans against your neck, hips meeting yours in sharp thrusts. Hands reaching behind you, he unhooks your bra and slowly drags it down your arms along with your shirt, tossing it to the side. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He mutters against your soft skin, his right hand cupping your breast, his other hand sliding lower, rubbing circles against your hip. Gently, his right hand needed the flesh firmly, occasionally squeezing. Your nails dig into his bare back, scratching down the rough skin.  

He started rolling your hard nipple between his fingers, your cunt clenching around nothing. Desperate for something, you rut harder against his covered lap, whining in disappointment while he chuckles. 

“You want more, huh?” He asks and you nod desperately. Slowly, his hand lets go of your breast, replaced by his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. Warm hands trail down your stomach, playing with the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down completely, panties following soon afterwards. 

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks and you nod. “Words, sweetheart.” Pulling away, his head eyes track the way your cunt clenches around nothing, wetness running down your thighs as he laughs deviously. 

“I want you so bad. Please-” You gasp when his lips land on your left thigh, biting softly as his hands need the flesh roughly. You swallow hard, focusing on the way his mouth gets closer and closer, warm lips kissing up your thigh and towards where you really want him.

The feel of his warm, pointed tongue running up the length of your cunt has your back arching against the sheets, hands reaching out to grip his hair, pulling on the strands desperately as his tongue circles your clit. 

His tongue barely dips inside you before running through your slickened folds, the vibrations of his moans further spurring you on. Soft licks against your slit have your hips bucking up into his face, your head falling back against the pillows as you lose yourself in the pleasure. 

Your mind goes blank at the feeling of a long, veiny finger filling you up, finger pumping into you while he sucks your clit into his mouth. He adds another finger, stretching you out. Warm breath fanning your cunt, he smirks at you, “Merlin you’re hot.” 

You opened your mouth to respond when his fingers curled inside you, eyes snapping shut at the heavenly feeling. Tongue back on your clit, occasionally sucking, you felt your orgasm building up deep inside you, the weight getting heavier when he adds another finger, his moans vibrating through your body. 

You were done for, loud moans filling the room, nails holding him against your cunt, thighs shaking around his shoulders as you reach your climax. He works you through it, nimble fingers dragging your orgasm out. 

His fingers slip out moments later, your cunt clenching around nothing. You open your eyes to the sight of Remus slipping his slick-covered fingers in his mouth, tongue making sure to get every last bit. 

Your hands reach for his pants, hurrying to unzip the denim and pull them down his thighs. “Someone’s need-fuck.” He cuts himself with a groan, head falling against your shoulder as your hands reach into his black boxers, slowly stroking his cock. 

He pulls down his boxers, his hard cock springing free and you have to withhold your moan. He reaches into the bedside table to grab a condom, playing with his cock before rolling the condom on. 

You lay underneath him and watch in wonderment, hands finding their way to your nipples and rolling them between your fingers. “I need you,” You whisper. His hands stop their movements from where they were kneading your thighs, eyes meeting yours. “Yeah?” You nod. “You’ve had me for months now, baby.” 

His mouth is back on yours, tongue tracing your lips as he lowers, one hand by your neck, the other holding your thigh up and against his waist. IMpatinelty, one of your hands move downwards to his cock, lining it up against your soaked entrance. He laughs, “Patience, baby.”

He rubs his tip along your slit before thrusting inside you with a groan, your back arching up, nipples grazing his chest as you moan in pleasure. 

With one more roll of his hips, he’s fully inside you, chest pressed up against your own as he starts trailing deep kisses down your throat. Your hands fly up, nails clawing at his neck, pulling him closer when he starts moving. 

His hips thrust in slow, fluid motions. Reviling in the low groans coming from the man above you. Forcing your eyes to open, you look down to where your bodies connect, cunt clenching around nothing causing Remus to let out a loud moan. 

Nails raking over his skin, you pull him in for a kiss, hot bodies moving in sync as he fucks you deeply. One of your hands trails downwards, towards his stomach and you feel his muscles contract in pleasure. 

Mouth open, you moaned in pleasure when he brought your other leg up to wrap around his waist, his cock even deeper than before. The sight of his eyebrows pulled together, beads of sweat dripping down your neck as you close, head falling back against the pillow, needy whines leaving your lips as one of his hands finds your clit, rubbing it aggressively. 

“You’re such a good girl. Taking my cock so well,” He grunted against your sweaty skin.

You moaned, hips moving faster against his own as you felt your orgasm building up, nails digging into his shoulders. “Your body is perfect. Like it was made for me,” He slurs, hips slamming hard into you, his loud groans mixed with your moans filling the air, toes curling in pleasure. 

“Please, I- gonna cum-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan, his hips thrusting into you with incredible speed as you come, thighs shaking around his waist, breaths coming in short pants. 

His head falls against your shoulder, thrusts becoming sloppy as he pumps into you, greedily chasing his own high, moans growing louder and louder. One hand reaching up and into his hair, you gently pull the sweat-soaked strands, “Cum,” You whisper into his ear. 

“Fuck,” He whispers before coming inside of you, hips abruptly stopping as his mouth falls open against your warm skin. Goosebumps pebble your skin as he gently pulls out of you a moment later, hands rubbing your body as he places kisses against your skin. You can’t control your smile as you watch him dispose of the condom before laying back down beside you on the bed. 

You turn your body to face him, eyes tracing his face. You watch his cheeks flush and can’t withhold a laugh. “What?” He asks, hands running through your hair. 

“You just fucked the living daylights out of me and still blush when I look at you,” You respond teasingly, resting your head against his bare chest. He places a kiss on your forehead, looking at you like you hung the moon. 

“You make me nervous,” He admits truthfully and your heart speeds up.

“You make me nervous, too.” You whisper. 

He looks down, his warm breath fanning your cheek. “Does this mean we can go on a second date?” You laugh, slapping his chest playfully, “Fuck off.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” He responds smugly, your heart speeding up at the prospect of going on another date with him. 

“It is a yes.”

Taglist:

@aremuslupinsimp

[nanowrimo]

When Is a Small Press a Good Fit?

When it comes to publishing, many writers will think about big publishers first. However, there are a lot of different publishing options out there to explore. NaNo participant and author, Clara Ward, talks about their experience publishing with a small press and gives you questions to consider while you think through your publishing options!

NaNoWriMo inspired me to write. Signing with a small press gave me the support I needed to publish a book I love. 

I’d published books before—starting with NaNoWriMo sponsor deals in the early days of online publishing—but I never had the right skill set to promote those books. As a result, they never truly found their audience. 

In November of 2020, I poured my heart into a genre-blurring near-future tale of sailing across the Pacific and building a neurodiverse, queer, and possibly magical chosen family. In 2021, I titled it Be the Sea and asked myself: What am I going to do with that?

1. Are you looking for fame or family?

Small presses are as varied as the people who form them. If you read widely, you may already have a treasured book on your shelf from your publisher-to-be. Try asking NaNoWriMo friends who share your interests if they’ve discovered any surprising or emerging sources for great reads. (At the very least, you may find books you’ll love in unexpected places!)

Admittedly, a small press doesn’t have a fortune to spend on paving your path to fame. But I have never felt as seen as when my soon-to-be publisher, E.D.E. Bell at Atthis Arts, wrote back, “I’m really in love with what you are doing and would like to talk about it.” 

2. Do you have the bandwidth for working with others?

Even with the most supportive small press, you may have to push outside your comfort zone. I know authors who love the absolute control and freedom of self-publishing. For a time, I felt very comfortable just posting my NaNoWriMo fanfiction novels on Archive of Our Own. At most, I had one or two beta readers to offer feedback on those works. Whereas E.D.E. told me in one of our earliest conversations that in addition to our three rounds of editing we’d need “a good number of betas” to cover the range of topics we were working on together.

I was delighted! I knew what I’d written was ambitious, and I welcomed all the feedback I could get. But it turns out, each extra person in a process adds new challenges and delays. I had to stretch my empathy as well as my publishing timeline because, to quote E.D.E. again: “It’s a lot of emotion (as well as brain cycles) to go through...” Outside perspectives will only improve your writing if you are willing to work with them, to truly listen and learn.

3. Can you handle the two-way commitment?

No form of publishing is easy. The myth that authors write while others handle business and promotion is not true at the top, and certainly not with small presses. In my experience, working with Atthis Arts was like joining a team or chosen family. Beyond certain paid tasks, such as editing and sensitivity reading, I discovered a community of authors who freely offered coaching before my first public reading, social media boosting, tips for author webpages, and an extra pair of eyes on letters requesting bookshop readings or other events. While not all small presses work the same way, this supportive culture proved to be an excellent fit for me. Naturally, I wanted to give back whenever possible.

Small presses can only succeed with community. This month, as I promote the launch of Be the Sea at bookshops in Mountain View, Davis, and Sacramento, I will be introducing many Californians to my Michigan-based small publisher, Atthis Arts. When I stand up as a panelist at Norwescon in Washington state or at various science, library, or Pride events later in the year, I’ll be promoting more than Be the Sea by Clara Ward. I’ll give back by sharing my appreciation for small presses, the supportive and inclusive practices they can normalize, and the opportunities they open up for future writers and readers. 

Clara Ward lives in Silicon Valley on the border between reality and speculative fiction. Their latest novel, Be the Sea, features a near-future ocean voyage, chosen family, and sea creature perspectives, while delving into our oceans, our selves, and how all futures intertwine. Their short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Decoded Pride, Small Wonders, and as a postcard from Thinking Ink Press. When not using words to teach or tell stories, Clara uses wood, fiber, and glass to make practical or completely impractical objects. More of their words along with crafted creations can be found at: https://clarawardauthor.wordpress.com

Photo by Hümâ H. Yardım on Unsplash

[multifandomxreader]

I come to your aid, my dear writer!

an idea would be an adhd!gn!reader that always manages to survive, but no one understands how.

they get distracted easily, can't concentrate for too long when someone is explaining the plan, and start wandering off to explore, etc.

everyone think they survive only thanks to the rest of the group

but chishiya is the only one who sees the truth (reader finds important clues at early stages of the game while wandering off, they try to explain what they believe is the right answer (normally being the right answer) but no one manages to understand what they mean because reader doesn't explain their full thought process or forgets to add context, asking simple questions out of curiosity and sometimes helping the group realise stuff, their previous fixations on random hobbies being useful, etc)

also, the reader is usually calm and unbothered about the situation, always in a good mood

people underestimate them a lot

gn reader with adhd x Alice In Borderland

It was time to play another game, you had only two days left on your visa which left you with no other choice. Hatter teamed you up with Kuina and Chishiya, something that made you feel safer. You drove to the location of your assigned game, a mansion in the Aoyama area, one of the wealthiest in Tokyo. You enter the entrance hall and each grab a phone off the table. In the room are two other players waiting for the game to start. A man fitting the aesthetic of the area, wearing an expensive watch and an even more expensive-looking suit is tapping his foot impatiently on the marble floor. And a posh older woman who could easily be your grandmother, fidgeting with her pearl necklace. 

Chishiya immediately starts analyzing the people and the room while Kuina greets the other players. The registration closes and an arrow appears pointing to an opening door, everyone hurries inside and the door closes behind you. On your phones appear the ace of clubs and a voice starts explaining the rules. “Game: escape room. Find clues and get out of the room in time.” You laugh “An ace? We’re definitely gonna ace this” you look at your friends to see if they got your joke, Chishiya rolls his eyes while Kuina snorts. They got used to your humor by now but you never skip the opportunity to make a cheesy joke to lighten the mood. 

“Thirty minutes left.” You look up at Chishiya as he begins speaking: “Okay, the room is big so let’s split up to cover the ground faster. Share everything…” You look around the room as your attention is pulled to a big bookcase. You tilt your head to read the titles. “I loved this book, ooh, Kuina you will really like this one!” “... and lastly we need a code to open that door.” Chishiya ends his little instruction talk. Everyone splits up to look for clues, the room is basically a large living room. Decorated with lavish couches and baroque art. After scanning the shelf with books you notice an aquarium with a small turtle. You smile as you watch it move, becoming hypnotized by the cute animal.

Meanwhile, the others were searching frantically for the key that would open a box. You got taken out of your trance when someone yanked you backward. “Search the fucking key you idiot” the posh asshole swears as he grips the front of your shirt. Immediately Chishiya and Kuina come to your aid. “Look violence isn’t gonna solve this game, so leave him alone” Kuina speaks. The guy lets go of you and points at the box, “We need a key to open it, search for it.“ You take it from Chishiya’s hands and examine it. It’s a wooden box, decorated with flowers, one flower stands out, a carnation. “Hey, Kuina did you know that a green carnation used to be a symbol to show that you were queer. It was popularized by…” You rush to the bookshelf as the others stand in confusion, your fingers trace the names of authors until you find the one you’re looking for: Oscar Wilde. You take it off the shelf and read the title. “The Picture Of Dorian Gray” you exclaim “I loved this book! The way Wilde portrays the dark side of humanity…” “Y/N!” Kuina signals. “Oops sorry. Does anyone have a knife?” “I do” the old woman proclaims while waving her purse in the air. She pulls the knife out of it but hesitates to hand it over. “What are you going to…” Chishiya snatches it from her before she’s able to finish her sentence. “Just trust them.” 

He gives you the knife and you walk determined towards the portrait hanging above the fireplace and slash it. Behind the canvas a key appears, you grab it and toss it at Kuina who opens the box. “Ten minutes left.” The box contains a riddle that gets rapidly solved by Chishiya, the riddle leads to another clue. It keeps on going like this and it looks like you were almost there. You slowly gravitate back to the turtle. 

“Five minutes left” the voice chimes. Behind you, the others cheer because they found the final code. You join them as Chishiya types it in. The door opens but you were met with another one. A sorrowful sigh left the older lady and the man punches the wall. The door was beautiful, so would have been escaping but you could just as well admire the craftwork that went into making the door. Beautiful curves, leaves, a turtle. A turtle. “One minute left.” You reach for the wooden turtle and start pushing it. It moved. You copy the unusual trail of the actual turtle, which had made you so interested in it in the first place: a triangle. 

The door opens and everyone leaps through just in time before the floor collapses. You look at your friends in shock before grinning widely. “I fucking love you y/n” Kuina sighs as she pulls you into a hug, Chishiya pats your back “Well done.”

notes: I hope you enjoyed it! it was fun writing a reader with adhd and putting some of my own special interests in it ;) (queer history)

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb: The Sequel

Chapter Nine

Note - this chapter might not make total sense unless you’re from the UK so if there’s any parts or things people are confused with please just let me know I’ll be more than happy to explain 🩷 but I hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated 😘

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 4.7k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut and angst

Masterlist

Running errands day had to be one of your favourite days. Walking round your favourite shops, smelling all the different fabric conditioners and checking out what new snacks they had got you so excited so you made sure you were up and dressed to leave as soon as you possibly could.

You were just putting your shoes on at the bottom of the stairs when the front door swung open, a smiley Mason walking back in through the door and your face changed to one of confusion and soon as your eyes met his.

‘Mase? Why aren’t you at training?’ You asked, standing up so you could slip your hoodie on and he dumped his bag before making his way over to you.

‘Power cut’ he shrugged, pulling you in by your waist so he could place a soft kiss on the tip of your nose. ‘The pitch has frozen over outside and it’s fucking freezing inside so they’ve given us the day off’

‘Oh thats annoying’

‘A little bit, but at least we can spend the day together now. I’m thinking we order breakfast and cuddle for a bit’ he winked before kissing your cheek.

‘No can do. I’ve got errands to run’ you told him, watching the way he dropped his bottom lip but you kissed it away. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘B&M first, need to stock up in some cleaning supplies and i want to get a new shelf for the shower so that I can’t put my shower gel and bits on. If they don’t have it there I think there’s a home bargains near by. Then I need to pop to dunelm for some pillow cases and paint and then I think there’s a halfords next door so I can grab some more of that screen wash and then sainsburys to top up the food shop’

‘Bloody hell, sounds exhilarating’ he laughed sarcastically and you tapped him on the chest in jest.

‘Fine, you can stay here on your own then’ you winked, moving out of his hold but he pulled you back to him with a huff.

‘Buy me lunch and I’ll come’

‘Deal’

‘And I’m driving’

‘Don’t want much do you?’ you laughed and he shook his head shyly. ‘Go get changed, I don’t need you sticking out anymore than you already do’ you told him and with a quick kiss to your cheek he was running upstairs, changing out of his training gear and into a sweatshirt and some comfy shorts before you both jumped into the car.

‘So what do they sell in B&M? You talk about it all the time but I don’t actually know what it is’ he asked as you eventually pulled into the car park.

‘I mean it’s more like what don’t they sell. Food, home stuff, furniture, toys. It’s like Disneyland for adults’

‘How big is this place?’

‘Massive’ you smiled and he rolled his eyes before covering his face with his hands.

‘Can I stay in here?’

‘No way, come on you’ll love it. I’ll let you push the trolly too’ you told him, batting your eyelashes at him before he silently agreed, getting out the car and following you over to where the trolleys were.

He pushed it around but you kept yourself sandwiched between him and the handle as you first walked in, his body pressed up against yours and you giggled every time he kissed your cheek. It wasn’t long before you got to the confectionery aisle, his eyes lighting up at all the different sweets they had and you chuckled at him as he showed you all the ones he’d never seen with an excited smile.

‘I didn’t even know these existed’ he told you, starting to add them to the trolley already and you wondered if you’d have to step in soon to restrict him. ‘They must import them or something’

‘I didn’t come here for chocolate, Mason’

‘I know, sorry. You go get what you need and I’ll come find you’ he told you, not even looking at you as he looked for what other treats they had to offer but you realised you were going to have to stop him now before it got out of hand.

‘Mason, sweetheart. You know you’re not allowed all of this stuff’ you told him, picking up everything up out of the trolley and you watched as he pouted and held what he had in his hands close to his chest. ‘You can pick three’

‘But baby-‘

‘Mason’ you told him sternly, trying to stay strong as you knew you could quite easily fold at the sight of his pouty face. ‘I’m looking out for you. Your nutritionist will murder you if they find out you’re eating all this stuff’

He knew you were right, but he was still going to sulk about it. Grabbing everything into his arms so he could pick his three favourite before putting the rest back and turning to you with a pout so you pulled him into a hug.

‘Good boy’ you whispered, kissing his lips as he blushed and squeezed your bum gently.

‘Stop it you’ he laughed ‘wait till we get home, then I’ll be your good boy’

‘I look forward to it’ you winked, dragging him and the trolley through the shop and into the cleaning aisle. ‘I’m thinking of changing up the fabric conditioner scent, what do you think?’ You asked, eyes scanning the shelf before opening one up to sniff and passing it to him.

‘I don’t think i have any thoughts about that particular subject’ he told you, taking a sniff before pulling a face like he didn’t like it. He made a point of smelling each one after that before picking his favourite and you popped it in the trolley along with some washing tablets. ‘I didn’t have you down as an ocean escape kind of man’ you teased but he just rolled his eyes at you before helping grab everything else such as dishwasher tablets and washing up sponges.

Mason stayed pretty well behaved until you got to kitchen appliances aisle, trying to convince you that he needed a three in one sandwich toaster and a special machine just for eggs but you knew he’d use them once before they collected dust in the kitchen so you told him no and he scrunched his face up adorably.

‘You wait, I’m gonna come in here on my own and get everything I want so you can’t tell me no’

‘Pretty strong words coming from a man who didn’t even want to come in at first’

‘Well I was young and naive back then’ he laughed, kissing your nose as you smiled up at him, pulling him around the rest of the shop so you could pick up some things for the bathroom and you let him get lost in the toy section, picking out a few things for Summer and Mila for the next time they came around.

You popped into Dunelm next, Mason helping you pick out some paint for your room, paint brushes and some matching cushions before you dashed into Halfords for your screen wash. It was at this time he started complaining he was hungry so you sent him back to the car with the bags, promising to get him his lunch like you said and the giant Greggs sign caught your attention so you ran in to pick him up a few bits.

‘So I wasn’t allowed the chocolate I want but you’re quite happy for me to stuff my face with whatever this is’ he laughed.

‘Greggs is a delicacy’ you told him seriously, passing him a bottle of Pepsi and you watched as he rolled his eyes at the sight of his face on the side of the bottle. ‘Now would you like to see what I got you?’

‘If you must’ he laughed, watching you root around in the bag to find him his things. ‘When I said you can buy me lunch I was hoping I got to pick’

‘Well my tastes are superior to yours quite clearly’ you winked, handing him the pizza first and then a sausage roll and he looked at you like you’d gone insane.

‘This is all beige’

‘Yes, my favourite food colour. But I think you’ll find the pepperoni is red’ you winked and he gave up trying to argue with you, digging in and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was enjoying it. ‘You ready for cake?’ You asked when you noticed he was all done and he nodded whilst gulping down half of his Pepsi. ‘I got you two to choose from, I’ll have the other’ you told him, pulling out the little bags and peeking inside. ‘So there’s a yumyum in here or Tottenham cake in here’

‘I’m sorry, a what now?’

‘A yumyum or Tottenham cake’

‘You expect me to eat something that has the word Tottenham in it, are you insane?’

‘Hey, it’s nice’ you pouted, passing him the yumyum as you opened your cake up and you saw him peek over to take a look at the pink icing.

‘Maybe you can save me a bit and I’ll try it’ he teased it you made it your mission to eat the whole thing so he couldn’t but you were too full up to finish and he smiled when you offered him a bite. ‘Not bad, we’ll have to call it something else though’

‘Well my dad always used to call it shit cake’ you told him, watching his face turn to a look of surprise as you never mentioned your parents but he smiled warmly at you. Letting you know it was okay to talk about them if you wanted to as he gently took your hand so he could kiss your knuckles.

‘Oh yeah, why’s that?’

‘Cause Tottenham are shit’ you laughed and he nodded enthusiastically at you.

‘Then we must carry on the tradition’ he winked before starting the car up again. ‘So Sainsbury’s then home?’ He asked and you nodded as you got yourself plugged in. ‘I think I’ll get painting straight away when we get in, it’s only the one wall isn’t it? I can try and burn some of this lunch off’ he laughed and you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before you set off.

You were only in Sainsbury’s for 15 minutes or so and you offered to put all of the shopping away so he could get started on painting. By the time you were done he was just under halfway through with painting and you watched from the open doorway with a smile on your face as carried on, blissfully unaware of your presence.

He’d stripped down to just his shorts, his bare back facing you and you let your eyes flicker over him. Your mouth almost watering at the way his muscles danced under his skin with every move of the brush and you hand to hold yourself back from going over to place kisses all over him.

He must of caught you looking out the corner of his eye, doing a double take and looking back at you with a shy smile before laughing and motioning for you to come over.

‘You gonna stand there looking at me all day or are you gonna help?’ He teased but you stayed rooted to the spot.

‘I think I might stay here, I’ve got a pretty good view’ you told him, a sense of triumph washing over you at the way he blushed from your words. ‘I’ll just get changed and I’ll come help’ you told him, changing into an old pair of shorts and a sports bra that you didn’t mind getting messy. His eyes were all over you when you got back, you ignored him though and picked up the small brush so could could start neatening the edges up and with a kiss to your cheek he carried on himself.

The pair of you chatted over the low music in the background, him giving you his opinion on your thoughts for the room and making plans to pick up the last of your stuff before you had to give your keys back. It didn’t take that much longer for you to finish and you didn’t know what came over you but with your last drop of paint you’d dragged the brush across his chest and down his abs casing him to look at you with his mouth agape.

‘What the fuck’ he laughed, looking down at the mess on his body before dipping his hands into the paint tray and covering them fully. ‘Come here’ he laughed and even though you tried to run away, he backed you into a corner with a devilish smile on his face. You couldn’t do a thing but stand and squeeze your eyes shut and when you felt his wet hands grip your face you gasped in surprise.

He was kissing you right away though, silencing any protests as he trailed his paint covered hands down your neck and the pair of you laughed into each others mouths before pulling back.

‘Don’t mess with me’ he laughed ‘I’ll get you back ten times worse’

‘Noted’ he winked before dropping another light kiss on your lips.

‘We best go get cleaned up, I’ll get the shower going and then we can make some dinner’ he told you, leaving you to quickly tidy up the paintbrushes before joining him.

‘Bloody hell, Mase. I’m covered’ you laughed as you caught sight of yourself in the mirror. Paint all down your cheeks and neck and you picked your phone up to take a quick mirror selfie so you could remember the moment, Masons bare torso in the back as he threw up a peace sign making you laugh.

‘Come on, it’s ready now. I’ll help you get it off’ he offered, both undressing and heading in so you could clean each other off. Once all the paint was washed off of your body he turned you around, grabbing some shampoo and squeezing it onto your hair before starting to massage it in. His fingers were like magic, your knees almost buckling under you as he massaged your head and you hummed appreciatively. ‘How’s that?’

‘Really nice’ you told him, feeling his fingers move to the back of your head and slightly down your neck before heading back round to the top. You didn’t want him to stop but he eventually did, lightly pushing you under the stream of water so he could rinse it out for you. He then picked up your conditioner and brush so he could detangle your hair and you could feel yourself blushing as he looked after you. Eventually turning you around so he could place a quick kiss on your lips. ‘Thank you, Mase’

‘Love you’ he whispered against your lips and you repeated his words back to him before he kissed you deeper, holding your face so you couldn’t move as he walked you back under the running water to help rinse out your hair. You both laughed as the water trickled all over you but you didn’t stop kissing him, his hands sliding all over you back and bum and you tugged on his hair slightly, pulling a low moan from him. ‘Come on trouble, let’s get dry’ he smiled, your heart thudding as you looked up at him. Tiny droplets if water trailing down his face as his warm soft eyes looked right into yours and you couldn’t help but reach up and give him one last kiss.

Once out, he handed you a towel for you hair before reaching to the towel warmer to grab one he’d put on there for you just before you’d come into the bathroom and you smiled as he wrapped the warm fabric around you as he grabbed his own. The mirror was foggy but you attempted to wipe it so you could check all the paint had gone and you smiled when you noticed you were now paint free.

As soon as you were back in the safety of your bedroom, you could see Mason pulling you out some clothes for you to change into and you smiled as he pull out of your favourite comfy tops of his to put on.

‘Baby?’ Mason quietly said once you were fully dressed and you turned to find your boyfriend looking at you shyly, the bridge of his nose a deep red and you raised your brows at him to get him to carry on. ‘Could i dry your hair for you?’

Your heart fluttered at his proposal and you felt all the blood in your body rush to your face as you nodded at him, taking his extended hand so you could sit on the end of the bed whilst he got everything he needed before settling behind you and took your hair out of the towel. He was so gentle, brushing through your hair as carefully as he could before grabbing the dryer.

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face as he dried your hair, being as careful as he could while running his fingers through it to stop it tangling and you couldn’t help but reach out to touch his calf that was next to you so you could trace gentle shapes into his skin. Needing to feel him in some way as everything felt so intimate but you felt your heart race when he turned the dryer off and began section your hair out so he could plait it.

‘You don’t mind, do you?’ He asked but you knew your voice would falter if you tried to speak so you shook your head to let him know it was fine to carry on, blushing even harder as he kissed the back of your head. ‘I’ve been practicing on Summer so I can get it right’ he laughed, carefully weaving your hair into two neat braids before securing it with a hair bobble.

You wanted to look at him so badly so as soon as he was done you shuffled round and his face softened at the sight of you.

‘You’re so pretty’

‘Oh shush’ you laughed but he grabbed your face so he could keep looking at you.

‘No way. Have you looked in a mirror recently? Absolute perfection’ he smiled before he face got more serious. ‘You make me feel so lucky’ his whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek and the tone of of his voice made your eyes sting.

‘Where’s all this coming from?’

‘I’ve just had a really nice day with you. I know we don’t get to do things like this often but every time we do it just reminds me that it’s all worth it, you know? And I love you so much and I love spending time with you. I’m just really happy’

‘I am too’ you gulped, pouting up at him so he would lean down to kiss you, and he placed the most gentle and loving kiss on your lips that made your whole body tingle.

You wanted more of him though, reaching up to hold his neck so he couldn’t pull away as you laid down and pulled him with you. He positioned himself in between your legs but kept his weight off of you so he could pull back ever so slightly.

‘I thought we were going to make dinner’ he laughed against your lips up you shook your head before kissing him softly again.

‘I want you first’ you murmured and your confession made him moan into your mouth as his pressed his hips against yours. ‘You promised to be my good boy when we got back remember’

‘I did’ he laughed, his cheeks flushing almost instantly as he knew what was coming.

Mason loved having his way with you, but you knew secretly he loved you having your way with him even more. The way it always got him riled up when you praised him and all the pretty noises he would make for you told you as much but you always made sure to only bring out his subby side for special occasions so you didn’t overdo it. With how you were feeling about him after your day today though there was nothing more you wanted than you appreciate your man the way he deserved.

‘Go sit up there for me’ you whispered, nodding towards the headboard and with one final kiss he was crawling up the bed to sit where you’d told him to.

Once you were undressed you were making you my way over to him, his wide eyes following you like you’d hung the moon until your fingers landed on the waistband of his boxers and they darkened instantly. You didn’t need to ask him, he lifted his hips for you instantly before helping you straddle his thighs.

All you could think about was his lips on yours and making him feel as good as possible so as he hands come to rest on your thighs you placed yours on his chest before dipping to kiss him instantly.

He was starting to get hard underneath you in no time, moaning into your mouth as you began to rock over him before pulling back and shuffling down his legs so you could see all of him.

‘I want you to touch yourself for me, Masey. Make yourself ready for me’

‘W-what? You mean…?’

You could tell he was nervous and slightly unsure so you took his hand in yours before wrapping it around his length so you could pump him a few times. His eyes flickered shut for a second before you pulled away, leaving him on his own to carry on but he stopped until you leant forward so your face was on line with his.

‘Touch yourself. Show me how good you can make yourself feel before it’s my turn’ you told him lowly and the tiny whimper he let slip soaked you immediately. You knew there was no way you’d be able to watch him get himself off without giving yourself some relief so you bought one leg in, hovering over just the one thigh now before sinking down so you could ride it.

‘Jesus Christ’ he breathed, one hand slowly pumping himself whilst the other griped your hip in an attempt to help you grind you hips down onto his thigh and the intimacy of it all made you tingle. You and Mason weren’t exactly saints in the bedroom but you’d never done anything like this before and the deep blush on his cheeks was telling you just how much he was enjoying himself.

‘Does that feel good, Mase? You look so pretty like that for me’ you murmured, the sounds now pouring from his mouth we’re unholy and it took everything in your power not to grind down on him even harder. But it was true, he was beautiful. His hair a mess, the bridge of his nose a deep red to match his cheeks and the adorable whimpers that were coming from him were driving you insane. You could tell he was hard enough now and you couldn’t wait anymore so you lifted your hips and positioned yourself back in his lap so you could line him up with you.

If there was a moment in time you wish you could freeze it would be this one. The anticipation, the look of lust on his face and the way his eyes were wide as he squeezed your hips as you lowered yourself onto him. He felt delicious as he stretched you out and you knew you wanted to torture him a little bit so when he was fully in you moved your hips as slow as possible.

‘B-baby please. Please go faster’ he mumbled, the bruising grip on your hips only adding to your pleasure and even though you wanted to give into him you also wanted to draw this out for as you could so you tutted at him whilst shaking your head playfully.

‘Nuh uh’ you breathed, your lips littering small kisses all over his cheeks but you ignored his pouty lips. You could tell he wanted to kiss you but you laid no attention to him. ‘Come on Mase, be my good boy and take it’ you breathed, revelling in the way he groaned at your words before his hands traveled down to hold your bum in a tight grip. ‘You feel so good, Mase. You like it when I fuck you like this, don’t you’

‘Y-yes. Fuck yes’ he stuttered, his chest now heaving as he was loosing control. ‘Please kiss me’ he begged and you couldn’t deny you were itching to press your lips to his again.

‘Do you think you’ve earned it?’ You asked, lips by his ear as you trailed them down his neck. The sounds of his shallow breathing really getting you going and you picked up the pace of your hips ever so slightly.

‘Yeah, just please kiss me. I can’t-‘

You cut him off with you lips, moaning into his mouth as soon as you tasted him before his arms wrapped around you even tighter. You were as close as too bodies could be and you could tell by now Mason was close and had been for a while so you pulled back and placed your hands on his shoulders for leverage before moving your hips as fast as you could.

You knew you needed help, knowing Mason was dying to buck up into you so you dropped your eyes, staring right into his dark ones as you smiled at him cheekily.

‘Fuck me, Mase. Come on, finish me off I know you can’ you demanded and that seemed to be all it took. His hands were back on your waist as he manoeuvred you up and down, practically using you at this point but it felt like heaven. Your high hitting you like a truck out of nowhere and the distant feeling of Mason shuddering under your fingertips let you know he was done to.

He pulled you into his arms instantly, his head hidden away in your neck as you both tried to calm down and once you knew he probably was you tried to pull back however he didn’t seem to want to let you, pulling you tighter into him if possible.

‘Mase?’ You laughed, being a bit more forceful this time and whilst you were able to free yourself he was still hiding his face. ‘Hey, what’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’ he laughed, finally looking at you but the deep blush on his cheeks and shy eyes told you everything. He was embarrassed, not because of anything that had happened but more because he’d enjoyed it so much.

‘You good?’ You smiled, watching him kiss your arm before nodding up at you.

‘Perfect’ he smiled before you leant down to kiss him again. ‘You’re absolute insane, do you know that?’

‘In the best way possible though right?’

‘Most definitely’

Tagged: @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mm-vii @footiehoemcfc @masonmount07 @aundercover

[thatredheadwriter]

Softer

din djarin x female reader

Your aloof Mandalorian employer, and dare you say friend, is surprisingly considerate when it comes to your monthly cycle.

I just started The Mandalorian and I’m already obsessed. I also just happened to be on my period, and I needed to work through some writers block. So please enjoy fluffy, awkward Din.

This is a SFW oneshot for female reader with Din Djarin of The Mandalorian. This work does not contain smut, however, it may contain mature language or themes, and as a rule, my blog is only for those over the age of 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Warnings Include (but are not limited to):

Swearing (English and Star Wars canon languages)

Menstruation (this shouldn’t have to be a warning)

The expectation for men to be dicks about menstruation

Din is the sweetest

Din is kinda stupid and walks in on someone changing

helmetless!Din (just a little)

Mutual pining

Please read at your own discretion and consume your fanfiction responsibly.

You woke up feeling sticky.

The gentle hum of the ship around you was nearly enough to lull you back to sleep, but the stickiness between your thighs and the cold sweat on your skin left you far too uncomfortable to even think about going back to sleep, despite the fact that your watch told you it was far too early for any living thing to be awake.

“Dank farrick,” you cursed, sitting up carefully, sure to duck your head and avoid the shelf above you. With a groan, you slid out of your ‘den’, as Mando referred to it, gathered the blankets you’d been sleeping on, and stalked off towards the laundering unit.

You knew your cycle was due soon, but ever since joining the small crew of the Razor Crest, it was harder to track time. It was the inky blackness of space, the way days would run together. It had nothing to do with your distracting companion, your boss, who stalked around the ship as a brooding pile of armor. The companion you were starting to become strangely attached to.

The laundering unit was empty, thank the Maker. You were just finished shoving the soiled bedding into the chamber and digging around the storage area for the right soap to add, but then a gloved hand clamped down on your shoulder and you yelped.

“Shit, Mando,” you clamped a hand down on your chest to steady your breathing, “How is someone covered in so much beskar so quiet?”

He didn’t answer you, of course, only tilting his helmet at you as he leaned against the wall of the ship. “What are you doing up so early?”

Your stomach churned, only partially from the cramps. There wasn’t much you knew about the mysterious Mandalorian who hired you–hell, you called him Mando, you didn’t even know his name. But you had deciphered he was human, based on his hands. They were the only part of him you’d ever seen without the armor, once when he was tending to a particularly nasty burn you’d picked up trying to fix the main cooling unit. His touch had been surprisingly soft, and you’re loathe to admit you’ve dreamed about it every night since.

But you also knew he was a man. And most men you’d met, even if they belonged to a mammalian species, were distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of menstruation.

“Uh, no particular reason,” you shrugged half-heartedly, finally finding the laundry powder you needed and pouring some into the appropriate compartment of the machine. The bright green bottle of fabric softener was easier to find.

You’d mentioned once how you missed using it, the smell in particular, and on the next supply run, there it was amongst the rations and parts. You hadn’t asked for it, but he’d remembered anyways.

“Why are you doing laundry?” he nodded at the machine. Dammit, he was suspicious.

“Well, it’s just been a while since I washed my bedding. Don’t want to be gross,” you made a face at the last bit. Not only was the conversation making you uncomfortable, but also the growing wetness between your legs. You were grateful for your black leggings and tunic, disguising the mess.

“You washed it eight days ago.”

Shit, why did he have to be so observant?

“Look, maybe I was eating in bed–which, I know, I know, crumbs lead to pests–and I might have spilled a little something is all,” you tried, putting on your best sheepish face. It was working, it seemed, he pushed off from the wall and headed behind you towards the galley. But before you could start the unit, he had slid in between you and it, popping open the door, and pulling out your blanket.

“Blood?” he inspected the fabric.

Suddenly you were pressed against the wall of the ship, gloved hands flying over your body. But not in the way you’d dreamed about that one time. This was clinical, urgent.

“Where are you injured?” he knelt in front of you, searching for any obvious wounds, any signs of pain. The visor of his helmet was tilted up at you, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

“I’m not injured,” you pushed his hands away from your arms. “Please Mando, I’m fine.”

He stood up to his full height but didn’t let you go. “You’re bleeding, you’re not fine. Tell me what’s wrong now, or I’m taking us to the nearest starport to get you checked by a medic.”

Your face burned. Why did you have to work for the one person in the galaxy as stubborn as you?

“I’m not injured,” you reiterated. “I’m-I’m menstruating,” you mumbled out, staring at the grated floor below you.

“What?”

“Dank farrick! I’m menstruating,” you practically yelled at the shiny surface you’d come to consider as his face.

He immediately took a step back. Great, now he’s disgusted and wants nothing to do with you.

“Look, I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, but you’re so kriffing nosey…” you trailed off, crossing your arms across your chest and trying to seem aloof. Not like your damn hormones were making you want to cry and scream and eat all the cold rations all at once.

“I’m not uncomfortable. I’m sorry for prying,” he spoke softly.

“It’s okay,” you chewed on your bottom lip.

“You should go clean up.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, slipping away towards the fresher and made it inside before you broke, the tears streaming down your face. You weren’t sure why. Mando wasn’t mad at you, he wasn’t shunning you. He almost seemed to care.

Stepping into the spray of hot water, you allowed your tensions and emotions to diffuse into the steam around you. As red swirled around your feet and down the drain, you couldn’t help but think about what softness might lay under all that beskar.

Eventually, you cut off the water and dried yourself with one of the threadbare towels hanging by the door. It wasn’t until you were ready to step out that you realized you’d forgotten to get clean clothes to change into. So you wrapped the towel around you and hoped you could get back to your makeshift bunk before you started bleeding everywhere.

But when you opened the fresher door, there was a stack of neatly folded clothes settled right where it would be impossible to miss. And on top, an absorption pad. Your face heated at the thought of your big scary boss going through your quarters to find you clean clothes–clean panties, you realized–and a pad. As horrifying as it was, it was an overwhelmingly sweet gesture, like the fabric softener.

He’d chosen well for you: a pair of soft, loose-fitting pants that tapered at the ankles and an old but soft t-shirt you’d had for ages. You were also grateful he hadn’t brought anything frilly or lacy from your underwear collection, not that there were a lot of options like that, but rather a simple pair you’d chosen to match your skin tone. He hadn’t brought you a chest cover, but you didn’t mind so much. The t-shirt was large enough that you felt modest even without one.

Running a hand through your damp hair, you checked that your blankets were still cycling through the laundry unit before slipping into the galley, making sure to step heavily in your bare feet to announce your arrival. Once you’d almost snuck up on Mando when he’d been eating, sans helmet, and you weren’t anxious to repeat it.

But he wasn’t sitting around the table. No, he was standing in the small kitchen. And something smelled really good.

“Are you cooking?” you asked incredulously, sliding into the bench by the table.

It was easier to read him–at least from behind–when he wasn’t wearing his cowl. You could see his shoulders stiffen before he turned around and fixed you in the icy crosshairs of his visor.

“Yes. It’s an old recipe, the warriors in my covert who have cycles say it helps.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. It was inarguably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you.

“Here,” he grabbed a steaming cup of something from a nearby workbench and set it in front of you. It smelled of cinnamon and herbs, and reminded you of Mando himself. “Behot shig. It’ll help.”

You took the container in your hands, allowing the warmth radiating from it to seep deep into your bones. It tasted similar to the tea of the last planet you’d been on, but without the sickly sweet aftertaste. A heady buzz settled into your veins and you sighed.

“Thank you.” You finally managed the words you’d wanted to say for the last hour, staring deep into the amber liquid.

He was quiet for a moment, save for the breathing of his respirator and the crackling of whatever was on the stove.

“You’re welcome.”

While you waited for him to finish the meal, you pulled the holopad from its place in the wall and began running your daily diagnostic check.

“The main cooling unit is down again,” you groaned, leaning your head against the wall in frustration. If the cooling unit wasn’t working, the hyperdrive would suffer a catastrophic failure, and you’d be in deep shit. “I could have sworn it was the condenser coil, but I replaced it last week. At this rate, it’s gonna be cheaper to replace the whole unit.”

Mando grunted as he set a plate full of food down in front of you. It looked good, you could smell the spices and the colors were far more vibrant than what you were used to in ration foods.

“I’ll take care of it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Mando, please. I may not be some hardcore Mandalorian warrior lady, but I can still do my job.”

He was silent for a minute. You imagined you were looking right into his eyes, although there was no way to tell. This was a stare-down. And maybe he was stubborn, but so were you.

“Ok,” he agreed quietly, “But take it easy. Let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t see much of Mando for the day, which wasn’t necessarily odd. But usually, he’d check in on you once or twice throughout the day just to make sure you weren’t ruining his ship or dead. Aside from passing him in the hallway once, you didn’t see him all day. He seemed to be busying himself with a project in the bunkroom, his personal quarters. You’d only been inside a few times, and never more than a few minutes at a time.

It wasn’t until you went to get your blankets from the laundry unit and found it empty that you thought anything of it. Okay, maybe Mando was being nice and put them back in your makeshift bunk. But they weren’t there either. In fact, all of your belongings were missing and the little space between crates that you’d transformed into your own personal nest was closed up.

If ever you were going to lose your cool on Mando, it was now. You’d woken up early, spent damn near three hours shoved in the tiny, unbearably hot compartment next to the broken cooling unit. Your back and stomach were killing you despite the painkillers you’d taken earlier in the day. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep.

That’s how you found yourself close to angry-crying as you pounded on the door to Mando’s quarters. You wanted your stuff, you wanted your blankets, and most of all you wanted to sleep.

“Mando!” you hit the door with the side of your fist as hard as you could, producing a satisfying banging sound. “Where’s my shit, dammit?”

Suddenly the panel slid open and you were able to catch yourself before hitting him square in the chest plate. Not that it would have hurt him, just embarrassed you.

“Come here,” he ordered, stepping aside for you to enter his personal quarters. You eyed him warily, like a mouse entering a lion’s den.

You followed his gaze–well, what you assumed he was looking at–to the wall opposite his bunk. Where before there was just empty space, a blank wall, was a new cot.

Now, new may have been an understatement. It was semi embedded in the wall, like Mando’s own bed, and you could see where he’d cobbled it together from spare parts. The mattress wasn’t anything spectacularly luxurious, but it had been made up with your favorite blankets. Your favorite feature was perhaps the privacy screen.

“This morning reminded me of my promise, when you first joined my crew, that I would get you a proper bunk,” he spoke behind you, watching you admire his work. Behind the modulator, you could almost detect a hint of nervousness.

You turned to face him, biting down on your lower lip to keep from crying. “It’s wonderful, Mando. Thank you,” you whispered. It was truly the nicest thing anyone had ever done for you. He was literally making room for you in his life.

“If you feel you don’t have enough privacy, we can figure something else out. I’ve been-”

“Really, it’s perfect,” you grinned, earlier anger forgotten. “You’re sure you have enough privacy? I don’t want you sleeping with the bucket on just because of me.”

“When it’s dark…” he moved to the control panel by the door, hitting a blue button and plunging the room into darkness. The only source of light was the same blue button on the wall and a green button on the door to the fresher. “You can’t see me.”

“Perfect,’ you nodded, not sure if he could see you.

He hit the button again and you winced as the lights came back on. You stared at each other in silence for a few moments, neither one of you with much to say.

“I, uh, I think I’m going to turn in for the night,” you said awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle and trying not to wince as another cramp rolled through you.

“Your things are in your trunk tucked away there,” he gestured to a small compartment where you could see he’d placed your belongings.

“Thanks,” you smiled once more and knelt to gather some sleep clothes.

“You can use the fresher in here if you’d like,” he said almost awkwardly. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

Before he could get out the door, you were on your feet again, grabbing his arm. He was unfamiliar with this kind of contact with you, and you felt like he might snarl at you like a wild animal. But he simply fixed you with his visor’s gaze.

“Thank you. For everything,” you said sincerely, offering a small smile. He grumbled something under his breath and left you standing by your new bed.

Alone again, and finally close to the peaceful oblivion of sleep, you began preparing for bed. First, you went to the fresher to relieve yourself and change your absorption pad before pulling a favorite pair of sleep shorts from your collection. Stripping down to your underwear, you shimmied them up over your hips and began rummaging for a tank top you knew was in there somewhere.

You’d just found the elusive garment and stood up to put it on when the door slid open. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips and you heard Mando say something unfamiliar in Mando’a before quickly shutting the panel back.

“I’m sorry,” he called through the comms unit on the other side of the door. “I brought you something.”

You tugged the shirt over your head and tried to slow your heart rate as you made your way to the wall panel, opening the door to let him in.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. You could tell from the tilt of his helmet that he was not looking at you. Not even as he handed you a water bottle, a painkiller, and some strange pillow-like thing. It was almost tacky on one side, and the other was metallic, and yet the whole thing was soft and flexible.

“It’s alright,” you set the items on your bed. “I’m sure there’s going to be an adjustment period for…this.”

He nodded, turning to survey the room. It made you giggle, to think that the big bad Mando couldn’t even look at you now. You’d imagined his face a million times, but now you imagined him blushing.

“I’ll leave you alone now,” he grunted, leaving you with your thoughts.

You took the painkiller and drank most of the water. The bed was surprisingly comfortable, and you could feel your eyelids drooping as soon as you slipped in. As you lay on your back, staring up at the rough metal seams and fastenings above you, you wondered what the hell this thing was that Mando had brought you.

Then you remembered. The second bounty he took after hiring you. The locator was taking him towards Hoth and he’d picked up some extra supplies to deal with the extreme climate, including a personal warmer.

You lifted your shirt at the bottom and pushed your shorts down slightly so you could lay the tacky side of the warmer against your skin. It was only a moment later that you found the controls, and you sighed in relief as warmth spread through your lower abdomen.

You hated to move once you finally got comfortable, but you still needed to turn the lights off, so you hauled yourself over to the panel and hit the button before fumbling your way back in the dark. It wasn’t long before you fell asleep. It was so fast that you forgot to draw the privacy screen.

When Din finally returned to his quarters, now your quarters too, he reminded himself, he was careful to listen for movement. He certainly didn’t want a repeat of the evening’s earlier incident.

He’d never been so kriffing embarrassed in his life. Except for maybe later when he caught himself thinking about your tits as he ate his dinner. They were just so perfect and soft-looking. He’d only seen them for half a second, but he knew they’d haunt his dreams for years.

He felt dirty for thinking of you that way. You were his employee, his coworker,  his friend. But Din liked caring for you. He wanted to do so much more than he did, than he could, but he knew you wouldn’t allow it. It would be inappropriate for a superior to look after his subordinate like that. 

Sometimes he wondered if you harbored anything for him other than friendly cooperation. Like the time he’d come back from his hunt on Hoth half frost-bitten and you’d insisted on staying awake with him until his vitals returned to normal. Or the one time you made him dinner, a secret family recipe you’d called it, and sat blindfolded across from him as he ate, just so you could share a meal with him.

But then he reminds himself that you don’t even know his name. And he doesn’t know much about you other than your name.

So Din resigns himself to maintaining a professional relationship with you as he opens the door to the living quarters. All that’s thrown out the window the minute he sees your sleeping face tucked softly into your pillow, legs curled up in front of you. Soft breaths leave your mouth and he can see the lights of the warmer from under the blanket.

As the door shut behind him, plunging him into darkness, he removed his helmet. He’d been living aboard for so long, that it was easy to find his way to your side even in the pitch black.

He leaned in, placing a kiss to your temple. “Good night, mesh’la,” he murmurs into your skin.

[heeversee]

Heeversee Presents ✨

Yander Au

Chapter 01

Genre: dark romance

Mention of blood.

yander, obsessed, mafia, Stalker heeseung.

Damn it's a lot. For my anons who requested me to add all these in one. So here it is.

Please leave if you're uncomfortable with all these things.

Spotify playlist

Criminal love (by enhypen)

The night we met (by lord Huron)

Chaccone (by enhypen)

Do I wanna know (by Arctic monkeys)

Given-taken (by enhypen)

Maniac (by stray kids)

Gasoline (by Halsey)

(⁠/⁠¯⁠◡⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠◡⁠)⁠/⁠¯⁠ ⁠~⁠ ⁠┻⁠━⁠┻............乁⁠༼⁠☯⁠‿⁠☯⁠✿⁠༽⁠ㄏ

You gasp

"what is happening here" you watch with your favourite sketch book burning.

"ohhh dear dear, my hand slipped" you heard a very annoying voice.

You silently pick your half burnt sketch book and glare at the bunch of dumb heads who bully you.

Bulling wasn't new for you. You were bullied all along your school life. Even now in your workplace.

And suddenly one day you found yourself not wanting to go to work. You were tired of fighting with the bullies, after a week of thinking about your detroiting mental health you decided to give your resignation letter and live your life.

3 months later

The bells jingle indicating above your head as your enter your safe place, the art shop. The smell of panits and canvas lingering in the air.

You took everything you needed but the last thing that was missing was red paint. You went to the paint corner to find a single tube of big red paint lying on the top shelf.

You run towards the shelf trying to reach the tube, you felt warmth on your back and a very veiny hand reaching the tube. You turn to see a tall man with his face covered by hoodie. All you could see was looming dark shadow.

"umm can I take that" you muttered pointing out the red tube.

The hooded man took a sharp breath which sacred you thinking that you could have made him angry

"ummm, I'm sorry. It's okay, it's okay I'll find the paint in another store" I laughed akwardly.

He suddenly held my hand and handed me the tube.

I tilt my head "can I take it?" I question softly

He nods his head once and that was enough to make me smile for once in last three months.

I bowed, thanking him and left the shop after billing.

Heeseung

He watches you walking to your apartment. Heeseung quickly reach to his room and watching you through the window, exactly opposite of your apartment He watchs you twirl around in your space happily.

That's all heeseung has done.

Watch.

All he has done is watching you from afar. He wishes to kiss you, hold you into his arms, cook for you, buy you paint and watch you paint for hours. But all he has done is watch you from afar.

*distant muffling sounds*

"ahh" he sighs. "I totally forgot about you" he turns around and pulls out a sword hanging on the wall. He unsheaths the sword and the dried blood covering the entire sword.

He watches the girls who bullied you tied up with their mouth stiched witch thick red wire. Blood flowing from their mouths as they cry.

"let's see.... What do i add in my collection now...." He swirls the sword.

"your blood" heeseung laughs like a maniac after killing the three girls.

He collects the blood in a long tube.

As he walks to the window blood pooling in his room. He orders the men standing beside the door to clean and dispose the bodies

He closes the cap and watches you paint the canvas red from his window.

"maybe I'll gift it to you someday. My little one."

Idk how to actually feel about this. I'm still thinking about what twist to make in this series.

A new day a new me 😂

I hope you all like this.

Fuck I'm so nervous.

Thank you for you all anons for comforting me. I hope to live a long life.

Thank you and love you 🎀🪐

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

The Enraged Inferno || Part 2

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Character: Diluc

Type: Angst, tragedy, Revenge and Reader in her villian era

Tags: Fem!Reader

Requester: @sailorstar9

Content: Years later, Since the reader's distant relative is Baizhu, it would make sense she would have Dendro healing abilities, as Baizhu have been training you to defend yourself and medically educate you. However, ironically, you were in your villain era, You were angry, you felt robbed. This was trauma without you realizing it. Despite being taught to be a catalyst user, you decided, why in the hell would you even try at this point? You decided, a sword would suit you much better. How would life continue after this?

Trigger Warning: I might be a little violent in this story to stress the Villain Era the reader is in, and also, dealing with trauma so please proceed with caution. I might add cursing a bit, please let me know if you can feel the idea of the reader without the cursing.

Part 1: Here

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You applied medicine to your scars to help ease the sore aches. This medicine was specifically made for you by Baizhu. You rubbed your healed yet scarred wounds with medicine as you stared at them blankly.

"W-What are you doing!? S-Stop! It hurts! W-Why?? AHHH!!"

Those words of your own voice echoed in your head, you clenched your jaw. Three faces burned in your head, you remembered them so clearly. As they were the result of your so called infamous death. You stood up, and took your sword with you. Of course you kept your catalyst weapon with you out of habit.

You walked out your room, and went down to manage the register up front as you rubbed your forehead to help keep a calm your expression. You don’t want to scare customers, and you never intended ruin Uncle Baizhu's business with your own issues anyways. Qiqi was doing her usual things such as organizing the shelfs. You walked to the register, and got ready for the day.

"I'll manage the register today but only because I actually have another job for you, my dear" Baizhu appeared from behind, as he was in the storage room of the pharmacy pulling out fresh medicine in a series of crates.

"Good morning, Uncle. What do you need me to do today?" You walked to him and helped him unload the crates of fresh medicine. You were strong even to carry these crates like nothing, and of course, Baizhu would notice and comment on it, however not this time, since there was another matter at hand to be concerned about. "Well...there is an order that needs to be delivered to Mondstadt. I would like you to do that for me. Our usual deliver men are on break, so I need someone to cover for them. I didn’t find anyone in time, so you are my last option. I apologize for dropping this on you so suddenly my dear. I'll make it up to you."

You looked at him surprised as you remembered-- Baizhu doesn’t entirely know that you faked your death in Mondstadt. He only knew that you almost got hurt and that you needed a safer place to be in. However it had been years, and you have been training to be better in self defense. Out of anger, out of fear, out of revenge. You wanted to taste the days where you get to strangle those servants with your own hands. You know, you practiced, unknowingly to Baizhu. You await that experience to drip in your mouth, as though-- right now, you remain thirsty.

You nodded slowly with your arms crossed, deep in thought. "No worries, I got it, I'll prepare to leave in the afternoon." Baizhu smiled. "Wonderful, thank you my dear. And...I know your mother passed away recently, but...I know she's very proud of you. If only we knew, we could have helped, but your mother isn’t the kind of women to speak up when needed to be" He placed his hand on your shoulder. You smiled, but that was just a mask. You knew that very well with your mother, but don’t worry. That ends with you, you'll be the first women to speak up and scream to let them know who you are.

You especially wanted to dig deeper graves for those three servants, deeper than your own mother's grave. Deeper, to the point of touching hell itself. You'd rather be a criminal then some innocent bystander. You rather cause a shitshow then be in one. You rather cause chaos and sink your hands in those who deserve it. You didn’t care. Jean included. She doesn’t get off empty handed. None of them do. And Dulic...would you rather he pity you helplessly or fear you graciously? I don’t need to provide such an answer do I? Fuck those prissy shits.

Later on, you already left, you bid your polite goodbyes to Baizhu and Qiqi, as you were preparing to take the walk to your homeland. You wonder how life is like on there. You wore dark clothing, black pants, black turtleneck sweater, black shoes, bags under your eyes, as you nightmares of your incident. You used to wear such pretty and light clothes. Such innocent bloodstained clothes. Don’t worry, this time, the blood won’t be yours, and it would never show on black clothing would it? You were walking on your path to Mondstadt, as you were passing Guili Plains.

Some hilicurls spotted you nearby and ran towards you, without hesitation, you swung your sword and decapitated them all in one swing. You placed your foot on one of heads and crushed it under your foot. It was like you crushed a large snail shell. Stiff but with enough pressure, it breaks. You looked at the shielded mitachurl with malicious and murderous intent. Immediately, the mitachurl backed away sensing violence in you. You stepped forward, planning to be merciless and brutal towards it, however with that step, the mitachurl ran away.

"No one will mess with me...no one will take me as a joke. Ever again." You muttered to yourself and walked towards Mondstadt once more. Your lovely homeland.

A day later, you arrived there and looked around. Nothing changed, it was the same. You walked to the person you needed to deliver the medicine to, it was a man named Anthony. The medicine was for his sick little sister named Anna. She had a chronic illness, he is trying everything to help her feel better. Once you bid the man farewell, there was one thing has plagued your mind, what had come of the home you grew up in? You walked to your neglected home, the one you used to live in since a baby. You still had the keys to it. You went to the corner of Mondstadt and saw it, it was the same but had overgrown greenery, however, it was still...home. You unlocked the door and walked in, and saw dust and clutter everywhere. Boxes, and taken down picture frames.

You wondered if your mother was suffering from guilt from sending you away, however, it doesn’t matter now, she was gone. You were gone. Everything was gone.

You sighed. Regret filled your lungs, as you looked at the pictures of you and your beloved mother, as you loved her but you were so angry with her. You cried enough before, but being here makes you want to cry again, this was the home place of your mother. You never really had a father, it was just you and her. Now it's just you. The loneliness is aggravating. You started to go through through the mail, as it had pile up over the months, until you saw a letter that caught your eye. A letter from the Favonius Knights to sell the house since there was no one there paying for it nor the bills in it.

You thought for a moment. Could you perhaps move back in Mondstadt? Take over this home, and maybe, return to a life here. You thought for a moment, then thoughts of Diluc flood your mind, Jean, and her servants. You assumed they married and had children. You felt disgusted. "Hah, bunch of weak backed shit heads. I'll show them." You muttered with a reverge thirsty smile. However, the deeper the smile, the more empty and lonely it was.

You took the letter in your clutch and left. You walked into the Favonius Headquarters, and walked in on Jean in her office. Jean looked up, as her jaw dropped, and stood up. "Y-You..but...you.."

You looked at her unfazed. "Is that really yo-"

You placed the paper in front of her on her desk. "Shut up."

You pointed at the letter. "My mother passed, so I will be taking over the house, so no need to ransack it or sell it" You had malice and murder in your eyes. Yet you were emotionless. You wanted to strangle this women with every inch of your life.

Jean took a step back, startled. "You...You aren’t the same person as before...you...you're different."

You glared at her silently. "Man, if I could strangle you here and now, I would. However, I have better things to do then to waste my time on some waste of flesh here in front of me."

Jean's jaw dropped once again, as she looked at you worried. She took the stamp and stamped the letter with shaking hands. As she is well aware of murderous glare you had towards her. You took the paper and turned to leave. This was not like you. Not like you at all. This wasn’t the person she knew when you two were younger.

"Wait..." Jean stopped you, as you continued to walk out. "Wait!" Jean ran and stopped in front of you. "In case you didn’t know...Diluc and I didn’t get married...so so...you can stop your anger towards me! He voided it and he left. He...He owns a winery now, but I am still trying to get him back and make him marry me! So still consider us engaged! So don-"

"Good for you." You said coldly, and not really feeling like your anger had to be justified to her. You walked passed her.

"Also..." Jean continued hesitantly. "Your boss, Baizhu, said you had another order of medicine, he sent me a messenger about it..." You sighed and groaned with your head tilted back and eyes closed. "Can’t you leave me alone you petrified shithead...?"

Jean was taken aback at your reaction to her, even more that this was from your job, and not even in her control. She was used to you being kind, she was used to being loving and forgiving. No matter what she did to make you hurt and suffer, you always smiled and forgave her. You even wished her happy marriage, this only made Diluc like you more, as nothing seem to faze you. Despite nothing still fazing you now, your kindness was gone.

All you see, is a pile of useless shit in front of you. The downfall of Mondstadt. Jean felt your eyes as such. She sighed and held both her hands up. "O-Okay okay, dear Archons..."

Jean gave you an address to the delivery. "Here, this person ordered medicine just now, you should get it to them..." You took it and left. Jean watched you leave as she felt shivers down her spine. She had a bad feeling about you.

You can finally breathe, it was suffocating in there, like close enough you were about to punch her. But now isn’t the right time for that, there will be a time and place. You always knew that.

You walked back to your now renowned home, as you looked at the address. "Huh...a winery..?" You began making the medicine and preparing it. You then wrote a letter to Baizhu, about you living in Mondstadt and you will expand his business in Mondstadt.

The next day, you looked at the address and walked outside of Mondstadt, and straight to a large mansion placed in the middle of nowhere. "Huh...a big winery...but also a big mansion..." There was a line of grapes crops and a small town nearby. You walked to the door, and knocked. Adelinde, a maid of Diluc answered, as she held the door open. "Ah, thank you for the medicine. We have to sign a receipt that we received it, yes?"

You nodded and held up your hand crafted receipt as you don’t have access to the record papers. It was back in Bubu Pharmacy in Liyue. You needed to keep records of orders in case anything, business rules. Baizhu was smart for that especially when it came to taxes. " You walked in, and looked around. "This all...kinda seems familiar..." you whispered to yourself.

Adelinde opened Dulic's main office, as you walked in with the papers for him to sign, you gazed around his office, then onto him. Diluc has yet to acknowledge you, as you looked at him with a blank face. His hair had grown, he looks more like his father now. He is taller now, he got more muscular now. He dresses more astrostcatic now, despite his attempt to blend in.

You walked up to him without a care for manners or etiquette and placed the paper on his desk. "Please sign for your order." You said, as you wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Just then Diluc looked up at the paper, and nodded. "Yes, one moment." He had an annoyed expression, and then took out a pen to sign. But then he looked up, and his gaze fell onto you, and he paused.

His eyes went wide, as his face went pale. His annoyed expression dropped as he takes in this life changing occurence slowly. He gasp as he immediately stood up and walked to you and pulled you into a tight hug. "I...I thought you were gone..." He spoke in such a desperate tone.

His eyes were shut tight, as tears fell onto your cheek. Finally, a tragedy that wasn’t true. He desperately nuzzled your hair, as he slowly leaned back against his desk while hugging you. You were standing in between his legs, being held against his chest.

You sighed and pulled away using your hands on his chest to push yourself away from him. You looked up at him with a tired and blank face. "Sign the receipt so I can go." You said coldly. He looked at you, confused. This wasn’t the same, kind and sweet woman he knew. "Huh...?" He placed his hand on your chin and gently pulled you to look up at him, and look at your face. "What...What happened to you..?" He looked into your dead eyes and scrutinize your tired face.

[miasmaghoul]

honestly something i’d absolutely love to see in your style of writing would be mountain and one of the other ghouls having a relaxing day potting plants in the greenhouse :) maybe they’re talking about something deep, maybe they’re exchanging gossip, maybe they’re working in comfortable silence, but whatever it is, they’re having fun, they’re soft and chaste, and they’re so so in love <3

yes uh huh yep absolutely lets go

soft boys below the cut

Dew sways in place, humming a tune to complement the raindrops pattering against the glass walls surrounding him. A springtime sunshower that makes him feel refreshed, makes his skin buzz and his gills flutter. He's tempted to sneak away, just long enough to get his fins damp and his hair frizzy, but it's a fleeting thought.

Dew's tail swishes aimlessly on the ground, stirs up fallen leaves and withered petals. The result of one of Mountain's seasonal repotting days, of hours spent pruning and stripping and checking for root rot. Of lugging around countless pots and sacks of dirt and the putrid fertilizer Mountain swears by. It's lousy work, really. Delicate but backbreaking, especially for a ghoul of smaller stature. Exhausting.

Dew's been here since just after sunup, and there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

It's been hours now, the sun hanging high where it peeks through the rainclouds. He has at least six different kinds of soil caked under his nails and streaked across his face, muddy smears covering both his apron and the garbage pair of jeans he'd yanked on this morning. They're more stain than denim at this point, and Dew wears them exactly four times a year. The little ghoul stretches his arms over his head and relishes the way his spine pops.

He's sore all over, truth be told, but it's a kind of good sore. The kind that comes from manual labor, from hard work and dedication. Dew catalogs the places he'll need to ask Aether to rub later, a little quintessence analgesic that he'll definitely have earned; his shoulders for sure, they're starting to crunch when he rolls them. His fingers too, Dew knows his knuckles will be all swollen up otherwise. Probably his legs and feet as well, but that would be better saved for -

"I'm back."

Dew's ears perk up when a deep voice calls from across the greenhouse, accompanied by the telltale squeal of the heavy glass door. Booted footsteps follow, wet soles squeaking against dirty concrete, and Dew hops off the stool he's been perched on just in time for Mountain to round a nearby pallet of exotic ferns.

"Don't get up on my accout," he chuckles, smoothing wind-mussed hair back between his antlers. Dew can just barely see misty droplets clinging to those auburn strands. "Besides," Mountain adds, holding up a paper bag, "I brought you lunch, and you don't want to eat standing up."

Dew's stomach growls mightily the moment he says it, loud enough that they both look down at it.

"Good timing," he says, poking at his belly. Dew hops back up onto his seat and scoots it closer to the filthy bench he's been working on. "Any longer and I might have started consuming things with no regard for signage."

Mountain laughs, but it's true. Dew hasn't eaten anything since he and Mountain found each other in the kitchen this morning. Even that wasn't much, a couple pieces of toast and a container of some weird coconut yogurt he'd found on the bottom shelf of the fridge.

Dew has these four days memorized at this point - three days before a solstice or three days after an equinox - but Mountain still always seems surprised to see him stroll into the common room in his work boots and crusty jeans. Dew supposes that has something to do with the fact that he usually sleeps until at least noon, but that's neither here nor there.

"Wouldn't recommend that," Mountain rumbles, setting the bag on the table for Dew to pounce on. "Last time Ifrit did that I couldn't keep him off me for a week."

"Woe is you, " Dew laments, collecting his prize. "I'm sure you suffered, what with his huge dick and endless stamina."

"It was a struggle like no other," Mountain deadpans, slipping his apron back over his head. He'd hosed it off before Terzo had called him for an unexpected meeting, and Dew had taken the liberty of pulling the moisture from it while he was gone. Left it in dark stains on the floor below instead. "I smelled like him for two weeks."

Dew snickers, opening up the bag. Pulling out a hefty container that's still warm to the touch and a real fork. There's a drink in there too, a bottle of coffee in Dew’s preferred mocha, and a paper-wrapped fruit pie the size of his hand. He looks up at Mountain with a quirked brow.

"What's all this?" Mountain tips his head while he secures his apron, makes a questioning sound. "You said lunch, I figured I'd have a sandwich or something. This is like," Dew gestures vaguely, "this is a whole thing."

Mountain shrugs, rolls up his sleeves. Dew definitely doesn't stare at his forearms for the second or two it takes to open the container. For the smell of it to hit him - roasted salmon with creamy polenta, along with a small pile of green beans flecked with garlic and lemon zest. His mouth waters immediately, and his stomach gives another loud complaint. Dew grabs his fork and gathers up an oversized bite, and it's halfway to his mouth when Mountain answers.

"I stopped by the mess after my meeting," he explains with a casual shrug. "Got there at the right time, I guess."

Dew freezes mid-bite, looks over at Mountain with his mouth still hanging open. He's in the middle of hauling pots onto his own bench, a cart of miniature rose bushes in the process of being repotted sitting beside it.

"You went to the mess?"

It's a well known fact that Mountain can't stand the parts of the abbey that attract swaths of humanity - it takes real effort to even get him to attend mass - and Dew can't imagine him braving the mess hall on his own. Again, Mountain shrugs.

"It was on the way back from Terzo's office," he offers, collecting a bush from the cart. Setting it on his worktable and brushing a few stray leaves to the ground. "You've been working hard, you deserve real food."

Dew's face goes unbearably warm, but he doesn't argue.

"Thank you," he murmurs instead, soft but genuine.

Honest.

Mountain's tail sways up to pat at his arm in response, the tufted end ticklish against his exposed forearm. Dew finally pops that forkful of food into his mouth, and the taste of it is exquisite. He groans, his eyes fall shut, his shoulders curl, the whole shebang. Surely an overreaction, but in fairness he's really hungry.

"Fuckin' hells, that's good," Dew sighs, popping a green bean into his mouth. "Say what you will about Sister Agata, but that old broad makes damn good food."

Mountain scoffs, shoots him a dramatic, offended look.

"Better than mine?"

Dew snorts, shoveling another mouthful of polenta. He makes a wavy gesture with his hand, a silent ehhh, maybe that Mountain responds to with a shocked gasp. Dew rolls his eyes, flicks his tail at Mountain's calf.

"'Course not," Dew assures him, spearing a bean on each tine of his fork. He gives the other ghoul a wink. "No one burns popcorn like you, Mount."

The end of Mountain’s tail whacks the back of his head, right above the knot he's tied his hair into. Dew waves it off, but makes a happy little sound when that tail settles on his thigh instead.

They fall into comfortable silence, Dew watching Mountain unearth a bush from its home and set it on his table. Munching away while he follows the way Mountain starts gentling its roots apart, spreading them out to better suit the large pot at his feet. No matter how often Dew does this, he can never get enough of seeing the way Mountain gets lost in his element.

If Mountain were anyone else, Dew would've asked where his lunch was, why he was eating alone. But there would be no point; Mountain has a certain philosophy when it comes to food, something that must have come ingrained in his vessel. He believes in only eating what he grows or catches himself - be it fish from the lake and streams, animals from the forest or even the odd, wandering sibling. He wouldn't eat mess hall food if it were the last thing Above.

Plus Dew's pretty sure he can photosynthesize, so there's that too.

Dew polishes off his meal quickly, while he watches flowering vines curl their way up Mountain's antlers. Speckled with tiny pale blue blossoms that Dew knows match his eyes. He's quiet, but his lips are moving like he's speaking to the plant in his hands. Dew imagines him encouraging it, coaxing life back into any fading roots. He's tossing back the last of his coffee by the time Mountain's hoisting the new pot onto the workbench, already lined with rich, black soil that will keep that little rosebush happy for months to come.

"What color will that one be?"

Full and re-energized, Dew slides from his seat and sidles up beside Mountain, observing the way he meticulously shake the old dirt from that mess of roots.

"Pink, supposedly," he mutters, brow gently furrowed. "That's what the label said, at least. Hard to know with these, though. Ivy did a lot of crossbreeding in her younger years. These could be black for all I know."

Mountain settles the little bush into its new home, carefully aerating the new earth with nimble fingers. Dew reaches forward out of habit, helps to redistribute that soft dirt and get those roots covered up nice and snug.

"I hope they're white," Dew chimes in, focused only on the task at hand. "The white ones are my favorite."

"And Zephyr's," Mountain hums, tapping the back of Dew's hand when he's happy with the plant job. Dew pulls back obediently, gives Mountain the space to fluff up its leaves. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Guess so," Dew sighs, leaning his elbows on the table while Mountain adds a layer of topsoil to the pot. "My turn now?"

"If you'd like," Mountain offers, standing back. "Unless you want to wait until they're all potted first."

"Nah," Dew straightens, cracks his knuckles, "I already walked all the way over here, might as well."

Mountain laughs, a brief but rich sound that Dew treasures every time he hears it. Dew extends his hand, takes a deep breath through his nose and exhales between his fangs. The tips of his fingers tingle, cool in the temperate heat of the greenhouse.

"Soil or leaves?"

"Both," Mountain replies, and with a nod Dew twists his wrist.

This is his favorite part, of course. When it comes time for the watering, for Dew to make himself useful and earn a pat between the horns for his efforts. He holds a flat palm towards the bush and manipulates the moisture hanging around them - in the air, consensed on the glass walls, even the few droplets still clinging Mountain's hair. Channels it all into a fine mist that he's sure to apply to every last leaf and burgeoning bud. Dew hums to himself while he works, cupping his hands once he's happy with his coverage and letting the water fill his palms instead.

"There," he says, pleased, pouring a few modest handfuls into thirtsty soil. "Good enough?"

Dew steps back so Mountain can check his work. He wipes both hands on his apron, smears around the caked on dirt that'll take a chisel to remove by the time the day is done. Mountain rumbles his approval after a moment, and Dew preens from the sound alone.

"Very well done," he lilts, and Dew rolls up onto the balls of his feet just in time to meet Mountain's hand. It rests perfectly between his mother-of-pearl horns, ruffling the loose hairs that have escaped their ties. Dew purrs, Mountain chuckles, and they part once more.

"One down," Dew says, peeking around Mountain at the remaining plants on the cart. "How many to go?"

"Eight," Mountain replies easily, already hoisting the next bush up to work on. "Of these, at least. I think the new guy is almost done racking the orchids, so those will be next."

Mountain looks at him from the corner of his eye, like he's waiting for Dew to complain. To whine about this taking too long, or that it's too boring. The look he gives him every time Dew volunteers to help him with this. Dew gives him a fang-filled smile instead.

"Sounds good," he says easily, striding back to his own work station. "I'm here as long as you want me, big guy."

Mountain chuffs, eyes sparkling. Dew can't believe how much more obvious the gold flecks in his emerald irises stand out on these days. He looks so...whole. Mountain's fingers dance over what will one day be a rose, now just a green bud, and Dew doesn't miss the way his ear flicks.

"Hey, Dew?" His voice carries something deep, something real.

"Yeah?"

There's a long beat of silence, and all Dew can hear are fading raindrops. The sun's getting brighter now, fewer clouds to hide behind. He can see Mountain’s freckles in the warm light, and the streak of copper in his hair. Then,

"I'm...really glad you're here."

Everything around them seems to soften. Dew smiles, unabashed and open, his tail drifting over to tangle with Mountain's just because he can. He huffs our a deeply amused laugh, staring down at his tabletop to hide the way his cheeks flush. Force of habit.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," he replies, easy as anything, and he really hopes Mountain believes it. "Now gimme something to pot, my fingers are gettin' itchy."

Mountain snorts, shakes his head, but doesn't hesitate to grab another bush and a pot, depositing them on Dew's table. Dew busies himself scooping fresh dirt into the terracotta vessel while Mountain checks the plant for anything that requires pruning.

"This one's even supposed to be white," he says, not missing the way Dew perks up at the words. "Take good care of it, yeah?"

He will, of course. And in a few months, when these plants are hale and hearty and flush with springtime blooms, a bouquet of them will appear in Dew's room. Perfectly trimmed and never wilting, wrapped in silky green ribbon that Dew will save in a secret place behind his sock drawer.

For now, Mountain returns to his own table, and together they work. The silence doesn't last nearly as long this time, broken by Mountain humming a folksy tune that Dew has heard enough times to harmonize with. So he does, the sound bouncing around them and accompanied by the gentle rustle of leaves swaying in a nonexistent breeze. The plants singing with them, Dew thinks. Peaceful.

Soon enough, one of them will speak again. Will break up the monotony with talk of music or recent happenings, or maybe even indulge in a little gossip regarding Terzo's newest summon. He's a hybrid, Dew heard, fire and earth and supposedly just enough quintessence to make him a Problem. Dew wonders if that's what Mountain's meeting was about, but he doesn't ask. Not yet.

For now, all he needs is this.

[sleeplesssmoll]

Can you imagine everyone in the suitcase getting together to prepare the Foundation Kids’ first Christmas 🥹🥹🥹

The gift exchanging and the cuteness would be the most wholesome thing! Little Santa hats for all! Honestly this became a long list of HCs and not all of them are related to Christmas. It'll be Crew member and Vertin interactions because it'd be a lot to do it both ways for every single character. My ears are open for anyone who wants to share their HCs!

Regulus (actually Apple) gives a Vertin a set of high quality paint brushes. She also gives her also a weird rotund plushy with this face

• _ •

This is the real one Regulus picked but she and Apple work as a pair. She says it's face reminded her of Vertin. Vertin will keep this new friend among her growing collection of oddities from her crew members. She keeps everything they give her, even if it's just a pretty marble.

Joshua gives her a DIY woodworking book and then brings up his bookshelf being broken (hidden agenda!) At first the others are like "wth?" but Vertin seems to love it. You know the little game pieces we see throughout the game to represent the characters? Vertin makes something similar with her new skill and they use them when developing strategies. Jessica and Sonetto like to help her paint them. Druvis gives her tips (since she's a wandmaker she has more experience). Also, Vertin does fix his shelf eventually and made a few adjustments so it won't break again.

I see Vertin as the type who can figure out those God awful assembly instructions with 70 different letters and numbers labeling everything. For tech stuff, Regulus and Joshua have them covered. They try not to ask X if they can help it because despite being a genuis he always adds an unnecessary feature. No I don't need my camera have a "brew coffee" function!

None of the "fix-it" people above can put together a proper meal though.

Madam Z is invited but couldn't make it (Constantine at it again). She sends Vertin a very elegant coat with a water proof enchantment to keep her both warm and dry. She she noticed Vertin's grown a bit taller and she'll most likely need a new coat.

Tooth Fairy also couldn't make it (helping Madam Z so she can get leave the office sooner and they can celebrate with wine). She sends Vertin a jar of candies and a finely crafted pocket knife. Why a pocket knife? No one knows for sure. Despite no one getting it at first, whenever they have a package they can't open, a freshly picked fruit from the garden, etc. they ask Vertin if she has her knife. Of course she does. She's Suitcase Dad lol. Tooth Fairy was predicting the future.

Sotheby will give her candies that are actually healing potions! It's one of her newest creations! They're more convenient than carrying potion bottles. There are a few...side effects but nothing too major. Vertin is extremely grateful for this and carries a few in her pocket at all times in case someone gets hurt. This usually ends up being herself (in combat) or Sotheby tripping and scraping her knees, palm, etc. She'll hesitate to take the candy herself (because what if someone else needs it later?), even when she's barely standing but heaven forbid one of her people gets a boo-boo or a bruise. It's frustrating as it is endearing.

Sonetto gives her a tin of her favorite brand of tea and a thermal blanket. Vertin's the type of person with a cooler body temperature. In winter, her hands are freezing! This worries Pupnetto even though the Foundation trains them to endure cold temperatures. However, most of the other members end up snuggling in the heated blanket, including Sonetto herself (she is slowly unlearning the Foundation's way of suffering pointlessly) but she will share it with Vertin when she does. Vertin doesn’t mind. Honestly, Sonetto is hot blooded (the opposite of her) so having her nearby makes it warmer anyway.

And Sonetto's always at her side. She doesn't worry about the cold.

Druvis gives Vertin a wand with her arcanum built into it. It's shaped like a pistol, similar to Schneider's but it's nonlethal. The "bullets" are infused with the slime from Druvis's thorns and can hinder enemy movements (inflict petrify status). This way she can "protect" Vertin even if they're apart. With more eyes on the Suitcase than ever, she believes Vertin needs to take extra precautions. Vertin takes very good care of the gun (though she's never had to use it in real combat yet) and when they do co-op missions with other departments it garners a lot of attention from the soldiers.

Druvis is not accepting requests at this time.

Blonney gives her an ugly Christmas sweater but her gag gift backfires when Vertin looks cute. Stupid yes, but cute. Also the fabric is very soft and Vertin seems very cozy inside.

Later, Blonney gives her the real gift. She was too shy to give it to her in front of the others but there's a hand written card thanking her everything she's done for her and Jessica. There's money in the card of course. Jen also gives her a little short story she wrote. Not a horror one, but a sweet one about a curious kitten going on misadventures and making friends. Vertin can immediately tell its based on the shenanigans she gets into with her crew members. Blonney doesn't stick around long (blushing too hard) but Vertin is moved by this. The crew members are represented by their Udimos!

Jessica gives Vertin a doll (think chibi) she made that looks like the Timekeeper and it has removable accessories. For Christmas, the chibi Vertin is wearing a Santa suit. Sometimes the doll goes missing from her shelf if she's gone for more than a day (work relates reasons). 98% of the time it's with Sonetto who crumbles like a guilty puppy if Vertin asks about its whereabouts. The separation anxiety is real. Vertin recognizes this and eventually says it looks happier in Sonetto's room. She asks Sonetto to please take good care of her (the doll). Vertin also makes more effort to "call" home or send a message with arcanum tech after this event.

She's not used to having people wait for her at home, but one day in the near future she will be.

[kiitsunekuro]

In the Neon Lights | One

Bakugou Katsuki x Exotic Dancer!female reader

WARNINGS: alcohol use, drug mention, mention of past abusive relationship, injury (no gore), some angst, fluff, smut, dom bakugou, sub reader, oral (both receiving), fingering, spanking, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, degradation, praise. Bakugou prolly says some variation of ‘fuck’ too much. Idk it’s my first time writing for him.

Summary: Bakugou meets a pretty exotic dancer(reader) during Izuku’s bachelor party, but you’re hard to get to know.

Roughly 14.3k words. Quickly proofread.

No beta. We ball. I’m tired of looking at this so I’m posting it before I start to hate it.

18+ ONLY. NSFW. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

“Don’t see why I have to go.” Bakugou growled, crossing thick arms over his chest, glaring at his red haired friend who sat across from him on the couch in the break room of their agency.

“C’mon, man. You don’t even have to stay the entire night.”

“No, fuckin’ hate clubs.”

“It’s for your best friend's bachelor party,” Kirishima protested, then sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “Look, one hour, and I’ll cover your patrol for you anytime you need me to, no questions asked,” He thought for a moment, before holding up two fingers, “Twice.” He crossed a finger over his heart and smiled as Bakugou growled his reluctance between gritted teeth, relenting.

“I’m not getting him any fuckin’ gifts.”

“You don’t need to-“ but his sentence was cut off as Bakugou stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. ‘Small victories’, Kirishima told himself. ‘Small victories…’

Bakugou groaned, smashing his face against his palms, rubbing his temples roughly. Sure, he wanted to support Deku on his day, it had been a long time coming, but the bachelor party everyone had planned to throw for him sounded ‘fuckin’ stupid’, in his own words. The whole idea of taking someone to a strip club for a ‘last night of freedom’ rubbed him the wrong way to begin with, add to that his disdain for the general club environment and it wasn’t getting any better. He was gonna have to get drunk to make it bearable, he decided. Maybe he’d even show up a few drinks in.

An hour at most, and then he’d be out.

———-

The club was a designated spot for pro heroes to attend without drawing media attention- all the staff and dancers had been vetted and were under strict NDA’s, so that was a small weight off of his shoulders. His already volatile public image didn’t need anymore controversy. Especially not after the incident with the reporter two weeks ago that had ended with dozens of articles with titles like “BAKUGOU: HERO OR MENACE?”

Bakugou hadn’t even done anything wrong, in fact he had saved the guys’ life. But that didn’t sell as many papers or draw in as many clicks.

It was a higher end club, catering to the wealthier crowd who wanted a more luxurious experience and prided themselves on their ability to provide top-notch service. Nobody clamored for his attention, nobody was taking photos or asking for his autograph.

Still, as he shouldered his way inside, already a little tipsy, he squinted his eyes against the bright strobing lights and obnoxiously loud music and sat down off to the side of his friends, turning to the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat.” He practically yelled over the din of the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Denki drunkenly hanging around an attractive brunette talking too loudly. Deku seemed to be politely but awkwardly enjoying himself, as he pried a girl's hand away from his thigh as she tried to whisper something into his ear that caused a blush to color his cheeks, and he laughed nervously.

Bakugou smirked to himself, he fuckin’ knew this was a bad idea.

“What kind?” The bartender interrupted his thoughts, pulling his attention back to her.

“Whatever, top shelf.” Bakugou muttered dismissively. She turned to grab a bottle of expensive looking liquor, and he swiftly caught her wrist in his hand. “Make it a double.” She nodded, pulling out of his grasp. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands and pulled several large bills from his pocket to tip her- his nervousness felt out of character, out of his element, and he wasn’t used to this. He cursed himself for grabbing her, he was pretty sure that was frowned upon.

The hand of a dancer traced along his shoulders, she had seen him open his wallet, thick with money, and closed in on him like a predator.

“Hey baby,” she cooed, leaning against him with her breasts pressed firmly against his back. “How are you tonight?” Her painted lips curled into an inauthentic smile that made his skin crawl.

The bartender set his drink down in front of him, and he quickly pressed several bills into her palm, muttering some kind of apology and her furrowed brows softened a bit into a smile before she motioned to the girl beside him.

“Did you want to buy a drink for Angel?”

He gave an exasperated sigh as he pulled another bill from his wallet to hand to the dancer, standing up and turning his back to her he stalked over to his friends with his whiskey gripped tightly in his hand.

He seated himself beside Denki who was now tipping the same girl he’d been talking to as she danced, and drank heavily from his glass.

The DJ began to call the next dancer to the stage, voice booming obnoxiously over the speakers. The girl that had just finished performing grabbed her bra as the floormen used what looked like some kind of long squeegee to sweep the money from the stage and into buckets.

“Having any fun yet, Bakugou?” Denki practically yelled over the noise, leaning close to him and swaying drunkenly. Bakugou could smell the liquor emanating off his breath.

“Fuck no. Seems like Deku loves it, you really know ‘im.” He rolled his eyes, sipping his drink and Kaminari glanced over at a very uncomfortable looking Midoriya. Bakugou was about to add something snarky when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the next dancer walking along the stage.

You looked stunning in the outfit that you’d chosen for the night, baby blue with gold lace trims and diamond jewelry glittering around your neck and wrists, flashing under the lights. For a moment, everything else faded into the background, the way he’d only seen in bad movies he’d been forced to watch.

You gave him a sweet smile as you started your set, heavily aware of his crimson gaze that settled onto you as you danced. Usually that wouldn’t make you nervous, but this time it did, weighing heavily on your psyche.

His attention toward you didn’t go unnoticed by Denki, who raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously as he leaned forward on the stage, several bills gripped in his hand. Bakugou’s eyes raked across your frame, hypnotized by the way your hips swayed as you walked toward the two of them and he felt his mouth go completely dry. His cock twitched in his pants watching you lean over, breasts still caged by your bra, soft and alluring. Denki said something to you and he narrowed his eyes, watching him hand you a wad of cash and you giggled, a perfect, gentle sound that made his heart jump a little. You made eye contact for a moment as you nod at something the yellow haired man is telling you before he sits back down, leaning back into the chair with a drunken smirk.

“What did you do?” Bakugou growls, tightening his grip on the crystal in his hand.

Denki shrugged, holding his hands up by his head.

“I’unno what yer talkin’ about, Bakubro.”

“What the fuck d-“ he can’t even finish his sentence before the same brunette from earlier walked up behind Denki and grabbed his hand, helping him to his feet. He turned for a moment to shrug sheepishly at Bakugou before being led behind a curtained room, leaving Bakugou to fume as he finished the rest of his whiskey and flagged a waitress down to ask for more.

She took the orders for the rest of the group, his attention now returning to you, watching as you danced, elegant and sensual. The movements of your body drew him in, almost making his mouth water. Your gaze settled on him as the second song began, and you slowly slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders and he felt the heat in his cheeks begin to grow unbearable as he looked away.

“Don’t just stare, Bakugou!” Kiri called out “Give the girl her money.” He laughed as he tossed a handful of bills onto the stage. Bakugou swallowed thickly and leaned forward to set the money on the stage in a small stack, as you blew him a soft kiss and mouthed a ‘thank you’ at him, moving your hand from your lips and out in sign language for the phrase. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra and Bakugou revelled in the way your tits fell and bounced without the support, willing his cock not to harden as he shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

When he opened them again, the waitress was back, handing everyone their drinks, a sparkler lit in a bucket of ice next to a champagne bottle as she set it down next to the bachelor, Deku. Bakugou lifted his glass in a half-hearted cheers for his friend before returning it to his lips. He nearly spit it out when he noticed that you’d seated yourself next to him and he choked, coughing and sputtering into his arm.

Your eyes flew open in mild surprise and genuine concern, moving your hand to his back,

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to surprise you,” You laughed softly and it caused his stomach to twist in knots, shaking his head, shrugging as he wiped his face with a beverage napkin.

“I’m fine.” He snapped, a little more rudely than he intended and finished his drink in one large swallow.

You nod, brows still knit together as you watched him pensively.

“Um, your friend, Denki?” You try, a bit apprehensive and he rolled his eyes.

“He didn’t say anythin’ stupid did he?” His nose scrunched slightly as he studied you through narrowed eyes, alcohol making its way quickly through his system. You smiled, shaking your head and it made his face burn hotter, certain his face must be flushed an obscene shade of pink between how flustered you made him and the alcohol raging through his veins.

“Ah, no. He bought you a few dances with me in the back room.” You motioned toward the curtains.

His stomach dropped and his hand gripped the arm of the chair he’s sitting in tightly.

“Fuckin’ bastard.” He growls, low enough he’s sure you can’t hear.

“Did you want to go now?” You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him with wide, doe eyes, offering him your jewelled hand.

‘Fuck it,’ he thinks, standing and gripping your hand in his, marvelling at how much smaller and softer it feels against his. He watched your ass as you walked slightly ahead of him, leading him to the designated lap dance area and pushed aside the blue velvet curtain to reveal a plush couch and ornate side table. You motioned for him to have a seat, and he fell back into it rather unceremoniously.

His eyes glued to your frame, taking in your features in the low lights and how they illuminated the high points of your nose, cheekbones, brow bone. He almost wished he could paint, just so that he could have this image of you forever, a vision in lights of neon pink and blue.

You approached him slowly, sliding onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found their home on your waist, and he caught the scent of your perfumed hair, feeling dizzyingly high, heightening his drunken euphoria.

“You’re s’beautiful,” his speech slurred a little as he pushed some hair away from your face and you smiled, cupping his face gently with one hand.

“You’re pretty handsome yourself.” You murmur against his ear, adjusting your position so that you’re straddling him. He cleared his throat, hyper aware of the bulge in his pants as your ass brushes against his clothed thighs and your cleavage came tauntingly close to his face. It’s all he can do to hold himself back, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as his head empties of the blood rushing to his groin.

Slowly you roll your hips against him in time to the music, the intensity of your eye contact driving him into a frenzy.

“What’s your name…? I’on’t think I got it.” He seems almost shy and it endears him to you, to see a man so strong and powerful practically worshipping at your feet.

“Aria,” You tell him your stage name instead of your real one, and he narrows his eyes, knowing full well it isn’t real- but he doesn't press you for it.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, unable in his drunken state to stop himself from praising you. It wasn’t just your physical beauty he was drawn to, or your attentive, sweet demeanor. There was a sharp intelligence to you, something with your eyes- that intrigued him and made him want to pry you open and understand you, to know you better.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his hand up to your breast with the other, moving it against you, prompting him to massage it and he groaned.

“Fuck, I can’t do this.” He throws his head back and it hits the wall with a dull thunk and you jump, cradling his head for a moment,

“You alright?”

“Yeah, s’fine, don’t worry. I gotta- I gotta go.” He helps you off of him but pauses for a moment, reaching for a napkin and hastily scribbling his number down and handing it to you, coupled with a large tip, without looking you in the eye. “I don’ like places like this,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, “That’s f’you though, if you- y’get it,” He grumbled and tossed the curtain aside with a bit too much strength as the fabric billowed around you. “An’ don’ fuckin’ sell it!” he called angrily over his shoulder, which is hunched up as he waved a dismissive goodbye to his friends.

You stand, watching him go, still frozen in place as you held the napkin and the tip in your hand before you can shake the interaction off. It wasn’t unusual at all to get numbers from clients- hell, you’d had people full on propose to you a couple times, but something about this interaction felt different in a way you weren’t entirely sure how to describe. You shake the thoughts from your mind and crumple up the napkin before tossing it in the trash and shoving the bills into your bag.

You doubted you could make someone like Dynamite into a regular, especially with how eager he had seemed to get out of the club just now. And you didn’t date clients, especially not pro-hero clients. That was one lesson you had learned the hard way that you weren’t eager to repeat.

You heard Denki and Kirishima calling you as you made your way to the bar for some water and turned to smile at them, waving.

“He wasn’t awful was he?” Kiri pouts, looking at you with sweet almost puppy dog like eyes, swimming from the alcohol.

“Oh, not at all.” You dismiss their concern with a wave of your hand, “He just seemed a little drunk and overwhelmed.” You laughed a little and handed the bartender a few dollars for your water.

“Katsuki? Overwhelmed?” Denki raised a brow in confusion. “Guess he must like ya,”

“You got some kind of aphrodisiac quirk?” Kirishima jokes, laughing and thanking you for taking the time to spend with them. You assured them it was a great time before they’re being dragged away by the other dancers, shooting you dirty, possessive glances.

For the first time since you’d started this job, you feel your stomach twisting in nervous knots, thinking of the handsome man you’d just had in the back room. For a moment, you close your eyes, breathe deeply, and bury the feeling before turning to meet your next client.

————-

Bakugou awoke the next morning with a blistering headache, groaning loudly at the light that streamed in through the window and spilled onto his bed, sheets tousled carelessly.

“Fuck,” he grunted, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He turned one eye to his phone, lighting up on his nightstand, rubbing sleep from the other. Snatching the phone from its resting place, he quickly unlocked it and scanned the numerous messages that his friends had sent him through the course of the night after he had left.

Shittyhair: dude, you left out of nowhere, everything good?

Kaminari: broooo i paid for more songs than that, you owe me

Kaminari: and you should probably apologize bro, she looked real confused

Oh god.

He struggled to piece the night together, blurry memories of lights and dancers and alcohol. Then he recalled that he had met you, and he was pretty sure he had unceremoniously shoved his number at you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, louder this time as his head fell. “No more fuckin’ clubs.” He promised himself, no matter whose bachelor party it was.

And another thing that was for sure, was that he would never have one himself.

Still, for some reason he couldn’t shake the memory of you as he undressed for the shower. The ghost of your touch still lingering on his unwashed skin, the residual scent of your perfume on his clothes from the night before. He felt his cock twitch slightly at the memory of your legs spread over his lap, and his desire to lean down and run his tongue across your skin and taste you. He palms himself through his boxers for a moment, wondering what you’d feel like under him.

Shaking himself aggressively he turned the water on, eager to wash the events of the previous night from his mind.

How stupid could he be? Giving a random dancer his number like that? He figured he’d have to change his number, the same way Denki was onto his fourth one for the year as he had made a. habit of drunkenly giving his number out to women at bars and clubs. Jesus christ, he didn’t want the embarrassment of telling his agent why he’d have to change his number. Maybe he’d get lucky though, and you wouldn’t try to sell his number or maybe he’d written it down incorrectly- he was pretty drunk.

Maybe, though, you would text him. The thought made something stir deep in his chest as he scrubbed himself with body wash, wet hair sticking to his forehead in uneven spikes.

He would apologize to you though, he decided, and maybe try to mitigate any damage he had caused in the process. After he got off work, he would stop by the club to see if you were there again tonight if you still hadn’t texted him by then.

————

The end of the work day can’t come soon enough as he’s embroiled with petty crime, even getting bitten once by some low level villain with a poison quirk. It was more of an irritating itch than anything debilitating.

He wraps a bandage around it carefully, making eye contact with Kirishima as he rounds the corner to get ready for his own patrol.

“Bakugou!” He claps a hand against his back, “How ya feelin’?” He ignores the question,

“Do you know if uh, I could call that club to see if someone is workin’?” There’s a pained expression on his face. Kiri scratches his head briefly.

“Sounds like more of a question for Kaminari,” he laughs half-heartedly, “but I think generally, no? Crazy exes, stalkers and the like,” he adds as he catches a glimpse of the rising irritation in his friends eyes.

Bakugou feels his stomach lurch at the notion of stalkers. Did that happen often? He cursed under his breath and hoped you wouldn’t put him in the same category.

“Is this about that girl last night? Aria?”

“None of your business, shitty hair,” He growls, pulling his keys from his pocket and shoving past him.

“It’s fine dude, she was pretty, there’s no judgement-“

“It’s not fuckin’ like that,” he rounds on his friend, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Kirishima holds his hands up in front of himself,

“Alright, alright,” Bakugou relaxes and turns to leave again.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.” He grumbles, leaving the room with a slam of the door.

Bakugou’s still fuming as he gets into the driver's seat of his car and begins the twenty or so minute drive to the club. It looks strange in the dying light of the day, before all the neon lights had been turned on. It seemed out of place like this, as if it should only exist after the sun had gone down.

Shouldering his way through the doors, a girl at the front greets him with a smile.

“Good evening, Bakugou.” Of course she knew his name.

“I’m just here to see someone for a sec,” he glances around nervously, peering into the main room to see if you’re there. “Is Aria working?”

“Um, I don’t think so,” She scans the sign-in sheet at her podium. “It doesn’t look like it. She usually doesn’t work until Wednesday or Thursday,” He quirks an eyebrow at her, “She has school, I think? But she’s almost always here on Thursday.” She smiles up at him and he sighs, thanking her as he walks out of the door.

It was still only Sunday, and the anxiety eating away at his stomach would persist until then. He’d come on Wednesday, on the off chance you’d be back.

To his surprise (and though he wouldn’t admit it, his delight) you were in fact there when he returned late Wednesday night, still smelling like smoke and fire, walking briskly through the crowd.

You jump a little when you see him, heart pounding in your chest, taking you by surprise before youre able to pull yourself together for a smile,

“Bakugou!” You wave, “It’s nice to see you again.”

He wordlessly grabs your wrist and pulls you off to a quiet corner and sits at a table, pushing a chair out with his foot for you to join him.

“What’d you do with my number?”

No beating around the bush here.

“Oh, I uh, I threw it away. You were pretty drunk and I try to be respectful of people’s boundaries, yannow it’s just-“

“What?” His heart aches and his stomach drops and he’s not sure why. “Ya didn’… sell it or anythin’?” You shake your head. He scratches the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling, you awkwardly pick at your nails in the silence.

“It is nice to see you again, though,” You admit, and a warmth spreads through his chest. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, you left in such a hurry.”

“Ya didn’t text me.” He reminds you.

“You were drunk.”

“I’m not now.” You blush despite yourself.

“I don’t sleep with clients.”

“I didn’t say anythin’ about fuckin’.” His eyes narrow, vermillion eyes flickering like flames beneath the lights.

“I don’t… date clients. Or pro-heroes.” You add quickly.

He drums his fingers on the table top, eyeing you curiously. You suddenly seemed nervous and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything.

“Bad experience?”

“Something like that.” You play with a strand of your hair between your fingers.

“What if,” he breathes heavily through his nostrils and leans forward on his elbows, “Can I come see you here, then?”

“That’s fine.”

“Could you text me when you’re working? I don’t have all the free time in the world.” You laugh a little, relaxing and nod, giving him your number.

“Don’t spam me, and don’t get mad at me if I’m not always available,” you poke him in the chest playfully, “I’m pretty busy.”

“Door girl said you’re in school, hah?” He pushes your hand down, but rests it in his lap beneath his larger palm.

“Mhm.” You nod, feeling your mouth go dry at the subtle intimacy of his touch. “I’m a biomed major, so it can get intense sometimes.”

“D’ya ever get to relax?”

“Do you?”

He laughs, a rough and low sound that has your stomach doing flips.

“Fair enough, princess.” The pet name has your thighs clenching slightly, and you worry that your hand is shaking under his.

If he could give you time, provide a safe net for you to relax and study without working in this place, he would in a heartbeat.

————

Bakugou: workin tonight?

you: I am! :) I’ll be in by 8pm.

Bakugou: I’ll be there.

Bakugou: got something for ya

You: oh?

Bakugou: you’ll see when i get there

You: I can’t wait! <3

You set your phone down with a shaky breath as you got ready for the night. You never got nervous to see anyone at work, but even the sight of his name on your phone had your body trembling, and you wondered if this was sustainable.

It wasn’t good for you to keep a regular you might have feelings for, it complicated things and kept you from focusing in your day to day life.

For now, you’d let things continue to play out.

At work, you pulled off your street clothes and got ready for the night, lacing up thigh high boots with heels that made you a good seven inches taller. They were some of your favourites as they made pole tricks a bit easier, and you’d been working on a few new ones.

A couple other girls walked in, whispering behind you and shooting you some dirty looks.

Most of the girls were nice, but a few had developed some resentment toward you since you seemed to have the number four pro-hero wrapped around your finger. It didn’t bother you, usually. It was easy enough to brush off and there were plenty of other heroes with plenty of money that would come to spend their money on them.

Signing in at the front desk, you made your way to the bar.

“Could I get my shift drink, please?” You asked, hoping it would quell the nervousness in your chest. “Tequila soda?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She smiled as she poured you a hefty amount of liquor, tipping them well will do that. Bringing in a top ten hero would definitely do that.

You sit at the bar awhile, wincing at the bitter taste of liquor and shudder. Was there any soda in that?

You open your eyes wide to assess your level of intoxication, when you spot the large figure of Bakugou coming through the front door with a medium sized gift bag in hand. You stand up to hug around his neck and he bends down slightly, awkwardly wrapping one arm around your waist. You inhale deeply, drunk on his scent of burnt caramel and vanilla, the tinges of smoke and cinder.

He had to stop himself from kissing you on the cheek and cleared his throat, shoving the gift bag at you and averting his gaze.

“Here.”

You lead him again to the table that’s become your regular spot by now, haphazardly pulling out the box from within the bag. It’s black with a burnt orange ribbon, colors you recognize as being from his pro hero outfit, and you narrow your eyes at him quizzically.

He’s leaned over with his elbows on his knee, bouncing on the ball of his foot, impatiently waiting for you to open it.

Inside the box is a stunning set of lingerie in shades of black and shining rust colored lace, a dark green ribbon threaded through it, leading to a bow tied delicately in the middle. On the panties, the ribbon is on the back. There’s also a set of new heels inside in complementary colors.

“Oh, wow…” You breathe softly.

“D’ya like it?” one side of his nose is scrunched up, gaze half hidden behind spikes of messy blonde hair.

“Oh, I love it.” You ran your fingers along the sheer fabric. “Did you want me to put it on now?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He smirks, already imagining how you’d look. “Had it made special for ya.” Your face is burning, and your limbs are shaking as you pull yourself to standing to go and change,

“I’ll be right back,” you promise as you grab the lingerie and shoes before disappearing into the dressing room.

Bakugou sits back, ordering his regular drink and avoiding eye contact with the other dancers vying for his attention.

“Hey handsome,” a pretty red head he hasn’t seen before saunters up to him.

“I’m waitin’ for someone.” He sips his drink without looking at her. Her lips part to say something, but it’s interrupted by the harsh sound of his chair being pushed back over the tile floor as he stands up, awestruck as you walk out of the dressing room, peeking over at him from behind the curtain.

He takes a few long, purposeful strides toward you, pulling you into him, heavy palm on the small of your back.

“Ya look fuckin’ perfect,” his eyes search yours, flashing to your lips and imagining his pressed against their softness, the way the lingerie shapes your breasts into perfect mounds, the bow near your ass begging to be untied. “I wanna fuckin’ ruin you,” he growls against your ear, the heat of his breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh…” you can’t stop the soft, breathless moan and he feels himself getting hard, closing his eyes tightly. It was relentless, and pathetic just how often he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you now, at times unable to wait until he got home, fisting himself in the parking garage across the street.

He desperately wanted to meet you outside of here, to take you somewhere nice and get to know the real you. He wanted to give you everything, but he’d start small. He didn’t know how long it might take, but he had promised himself that he’d find a way through the emotional walls that you had built up, thick and seemingly impenetrable.

“Can I get a dance with you, princess?” He murmurs, lips a hair's breadth from the shell of your ear, you can feel him smirk when goosebumps dimple your flesh.

“Mmm,” You hum, leading him slowly to the back room so that he can watch the way your ass moves as you walk.

In the darkness of the back room, you turn to face him, raking your nails along the outside of his jeans and pressing him back into the couch by his shoulder. You sidle into his lap, and move the pull the straps off your shoulders but he stops you with a quick hand.

“Ya don’t have to do anything,” His crimson gaze is steady on you, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, “I just wanna be here with you.” He rasps, pulling you so close to him your noses brush against each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and hum contentedly, forgetting yourself and pressing a kiss against his jawline that makes him shudder.

“You’re too good to me, Bakugou,” you whisper against his ear, and he closes his eyes tightly.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he growls, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. There was a harsh pang in his chest at your insistence on using his last name, desperate to hear you breathlessly moaning ‘Katsuki’, and he swore to himself he would some day.

He revels in the way your fingers trail along his well muscled arm, stopping when they feel the broken skin of a new injury and your face twists into an expression of concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, s’fine,” He smirks, “I’m one of the best, princess.” Your smile is bittersweet.

“I know.” Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, “I worry about you sometimes, when I watch the news,” He raises an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m the one that should be worried about you, workin’ places like this.” You pull away slightly, tilting your head.

“It’s just a job.”

“Nah, not like that,” he shakes his head, holding your hands in one large palm. “Friend of mine mentioned stalkers, n I’ve met enough unsavory types to know what kinda people are out there.”

You nod, understanding.

“I’ve never had an issue with a stalker or a villain, but I did-“ you stop yourself, catching your words before the alcohol in your system let them go.

He pulls you closer to him by the curve of your hips.

“Y’can’t start somethin’ like that and not finish,” he warns, voice low. You worry your lower lip between your teeth, debating whether or not it would be too much to share. Your general role was to play therapist, entertainer, a momentary fantasy girlfriend. A modern day geisha.

You didn���t want to worry them with your own problems, which often seemed trivial in comparison to many of your clients.

“Hey,” he taps your forehead with a calloused finger, “what’s goin’ on in there, hah?”

You sigh, pressing your face into his neck, breathing lightly.

“It’s nothing, not really a big deal,”

”I’m sure I could handle it, then,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I uh, dated a pro-hero last year.”

“Somethin’ happen to ‘im?” He fidgets uncomfortably beneath you. You shake your head, staring at nothing in particular, anxiety rising in your chest.

“Just wasn’t a great guy.”

“That why you don’t date pro-heroes?” His eyes narrow, assessing your reactions.

“Well, that, and the whole constant worry about whether or not they’ll come home every night.” He says nothing. “Then the whole… job thing. It’s generally frowned upon to date guys from the club.” You add with a half hearted laugh.

“Didn’t stop you before,” he points out.

“Lesson learned,” your expression is solemn, and he sighs, pulling you into him tightly and wished he could let you know that he was different. That he wouldn’t hurt you, and he’d do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy. That he was one of the best fuckin’ pro heroes and he’d always come home to you.

Instead he just holds you against him, memorizing the curves of your body until it’s time for him to go.

You walk with him to the door, sharing one last hug before he squeezes your hand goodbye and leaves.

In the dressing room, you slowly remove your dance shoes with an exhale of relief. Another dancer you know as River rolls her eyes at you, glaring at the lingerie that you’re wearing.

“How’d you do it?” A slight sneer plays on her lips, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the lockers.

“Do what?” Your voice is laced with impatient agitation.

“You just really good at suckin’ dick?” You balk a little at this, mouth agape.

“I don’t fuck clients,” you snap, tossing your shoes into you bag.

“You fucked Shindou.” Her eyes exaggeratedly wide, cocking her head to the side. You hiss something through gritted teeth before averting your gaze and pulling on your street clothes.

“That was different.” You mutter, hints of shame weighing your voice down.

“Sure it was.” She rolls her eyes, standing up straighter. “Look, I don’t care what you do, but you’ve got a lot of girls in here pissed at you.”

“Sounds like a them problem.” You retort dryly.

“We’ll see.” She shrugs before leaving the room, and the rage that had been building in your chest unleashed itself as you slammed your fists down on the counter, breathing heavily. You wipe the tears from your eyes, checking yourself over before throwing your bag over your shoulder and heading home.

———-

The next couple days are busy ones for both you and Bakugou, him with hero work and you with school. He’s accepted the fact that you won’t text him unless it’s related to work, and he has to stop himself from asking you how you’re doing every few hours.

He worries about you when he doesn’t hear from you for a couple days, but it’s always just

Bakugou: working tonight?

You: no, I have some really important tests coming up.

He can’t help but wonder if you actually have a boyfriend that you keep secret from him and if that’s the real reason you won’t meet him outside of the club. Or why you’re opposed to phone calls, or even friendly conversation.

It didn't bother him too much, he liked to think of himself as a good judge of character and he’d seen your organic chemistry books and the massive amounts of anatomy and physiology notes you lug around with you in your bag.

What bothered him more than any of that was the thought that some other hero had beat him to you, and seemingly turned you off of them forever. It drove him almost crazy, wondering just what your type was and what they’d done to you.

If he’d had your actual name maybe he could have done some more snooping and figured it out, but he didn’t even have that. Tonight though, he had been pressured into going out to a quiet bar with his friends- he’d been spending more and more time away from them for reasons he kept to himself.

But tonight, at the bar, after a few beers he leans over to Kirishima, a thoughtful expression etched on his face.

“Hey, shittyhair,” he taps him lightly on the back of the head. “How well d’you know Aria? Said she dated a pro hero awhile ago,”

“Oh, is that where you’ve been?” He wore a shit eating grin on his face, “be careful with those girls, they’re masters at taking your money.” Bakugou scowled.

“Ain’t like that, fuck face. An’ that ain’t what I asked.”

Kirishima shrugged.

“I don’t know much about her, I’ve only met her a few times. She’s never mentioned that.” Bakugou grumbled, sitting back in his chair and sipping his beer. Kirishima signed, patting his friend on the shoulder lightly.

“I wouldn’t count too much on her, a lot of them are liars and-“

“Shut it, y’don’t know her. Only thing she’s lied about is her name.”

Kirishima treads carefully with his words, picking them out with discretion.

“In fairness, neither do you. I’m just lookin out for ya, bro.” He smiles, a pitying smile that makes anger boil in his chest. “But you could be right, it’s not like it’s never worked out for anyone before.” He shrugs, gulping from his own bottle hungrily. “If you really like her, it’s worth a shot.” He smiles again, genuinely this time, and Bakugou snorts, sipping his beer.

A few hours later, he’s drunkenly stumbling into his apartment, pulling off his shirt and collapsing back onto his bed, thinking of you. There’s no thought process as he pulls out his phone and begins to text you,

Bakugou: I miss you

Bakugou: Hope you're okay

When you don’t respond right away, apprehension nibbles at him and prods him to send another.

Bakugou: sorry for messaging, just had some drinks with friends and cant stop thinkin bout you

Bakugou: wish you coulda come with tonight, be better company than fuckin shitty hair

He palms the semi hard on he has in his boxers, a darkening spot where pre had begun to gather. Groaning, he pulled out his cock, wrapping a large hand around it, giving a few half hearted pumps and running his thumb along the tip spreading the pearlescent liquid, imagining that it’s you instead. He wondered if your hand would even be able to fit around his girth.

He wished he had pictures of you he could look at, but he didn’t even have that- just memories of you washed in the strobing neon lights of a dark club. The shine of your lipgloss and the smell of your hair haunted him, following him home on unwashed clothing. God, what he’d give to see that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around his cock, his hand pressing down on the back of your head as he thrust his hips up into your throat.

His hand moved quicker, filling the room with lewd sounds as a low moan ripped through his chest.

The ghost of your touch, the thought of your hips hovering over his as he pressed the fat tip of his cock into your tight entrance. Imagining the way your head would fall back in violent pleasure as he filled you completely.

Fuck, the way he wanted to hear you screaming his name, his first name, under him while his cock split you in two.

He reached his other hand down to grab at his balls as they tightened, nearing his orgasm, grunting, chest heaving as hot ropes of cum shot across his stomach, glistening globs of it clinging to the fine hairs scattered across his abdomen.

Collapsing in the twisted sheets, he waited for his breathing to even out before he grabbed a towel to clean himself off. There’s a soft light as his phone alerted him to a new message.

He hastily unlocked his phone, and saw that it was from you, your name at the top of the screen making his stomach churn.

You: Hey, Bakugou, sorry I’ve been so busy. I hope you had a good time with your friends!

He huffs, leaning back onto his headboard as he typed his response, closing one eye to focus his blurred vision on the bright screen,

Bakugou: would have been more fun with you

Another few minutes go by without a response. He taps the call button, trying his luck.

After a few more rings, he’s about to give up when the line clicks to life on the other side.

“Bakugou?” He hears your voice and his heart nearly skips a beat. His mouth goes dry as he attempts to swallow.

“S’right, I uh… wanted to hear from ya.” He curses himself, wishing he had something better to say. You giggle a little.

“Are you drunk?”

“…Maybe a little.” He admits.

“Mmm, I hope you got home safe.”

“You know I did, princess.” You smile on the other end of the line, pushing yourself back from your desk. There’s a few moments of silence before he blurts out, “D’ya not wanna see me cuz you got a boyfriend or somethin’?” He sits up, muscles tense as he waits for your response.

“Huh? No, I told you why, Bakugou.” He groans loudly, falling back on the mattress.

“Quit fuckin’ callin’ me that.” The whine in his voice is so unlike him, you laugh despite yourself.

“I’m just trying to be professional.”

“Fuck that,” he rasps, staring at the ceiling. It’s quiet again. “D’ya even like me?” Voice almost imperceptibly soft.

You’re quiet a little longer, unsure of how to answer. Of course you did, probably more than you should.

“I like you a lot, Bakugou.” You finally say, so quietly he almost can’t hear it.

“Who hurt you so bad you won’t even let me take you out for dinner?” His voice is a little more commanding this time, but not unkind.

“Maybe I’ll tell you eventually, it’s not that important.”

“It is to me, fucker’s not even around and he’s keepin’ me from the best thing that could happen to me,”

“I’m not that special,” Your voice is low, serious.

“You fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You have no fuckin’ clue what you do to me, and you better stop fuckin’ talkin’ like that about yourself.” His voice is almost a growl and it sends shivers through your body.

“Or what…?” You can’t help the tease that sneaks into your voice.

“Or I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.” He rasps.

Your fingers press against your clothed slit as it throbs with want. You try to play it off with a breathless laugh.

“Mmm that so?”

He hums lowly in response, and you can barely suppress a whimper building in your chest. You felt warmth spread from your center and ache for attention. Maybe after you hung up-

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

“Night princess.”

There’s another moment of silence between you two before you finally hang up.

——

It’s nearly noon before you wake up the next morning, you’d been up incredibly late working on a paper and your body ached from the prolonged period of time you’d spent in your desk chair, hunched over your laptop.

Out of habit you reach for your phone, expecting it to be devoid of messages, but there’s a notification from Bakugou.

Bakugou: morning, sorry for last night. I was a little tipsy.

You: It’s okay, it was good to hear from you.

You put your phone down to get ready for the day, run some errands before heading into work for the night.

By the time you’re stepping out of the shower, there’s another message waiting for you.

Bakugou: hope I can see you tonight.

You: I’ll be there at 8 :) looking forward to it.

Bakugou: better be.

You smiled, shaking your head and went about your day. It was getting harder and harder to push thoughts of Bakugou from your mind, and you hoped beyond hope that you wouldn’t have to cut him off as a client because of your feelings, but it was looking more possible by the day.

Your anxiety raged in your mind with everything that could go wrong, and that had already gone wrong. What would happen if you fell helplessly in love with him? How bad would it hurt when he inevitably found someone who could love him back in the way he wanted? You couldn’t in good conscience string him along knowing how he felt, and cursed yourself for caring about him.

That was the other thing- what about when he got hurt? What if something horrible happened to him? You couldn’t bear the thought of it.

By the time you’re switching over your laundry to the dryer, the doubts had only grown, festering in your chest until the butterflies in your stomach turned into a noxious pit.

This wasn’t good, you were already catching flak at work for your relationship with Bakugou, and the history with Shindou still haunted you. You still caught whispers and snarky comments for it here and there, a poltergeist you couldn’t sage.

Nobody really knew the full details of what had happened, of how he’d been to you behind closed walls and how he had made you out to be a gold digging villain. Nobody knew how he’d hurt you and take advantage of you after getting you too drunk. Those details were always left out, hidden, covered up.

You slammed the dryer shut in frustration, resolving to end your work relationship with Bakugou, despite the clawing at your heart that begged to get closer. Shoving the feelings away, you reminded yourself that the last time you’d let someone in, it had nearly destroyed you.

You hadn’t picked the broken pieces of yourself back up and fixed yourself for no reason. You still had too much to accomplish to let another cocky pro hero derail you again.

By the time you’d returned from the grocery store, you had resolved to have a talk with Bakugou and try to end things amicably, it wouldn’t bode well for you to make an enemy of someone in such a high place, it was already hard enough to wash yourself of the reputation Shindou had branded you with.

You pull your phone from your purse and press the call button by Bakugou’s name and it immediately goes to voicemail. Trying one more time, it ends after a few rings.

Bakugou: at work, I’ll call you when I can.

Bakugou: everything alright?

You: yeah, I’m fine, just needed to talk.

‘Shit’. You wanted to rip the bandaid off, not let it fester longer. But you were running out of time, and had to get ready for work.

Even after you got there, your nerves hadn’t settled and every person that walked in had you jumping slightly in your seat. It’s after midnight before Bakugou gets there, smelling heavily of gunpowder and sweat.

“Rough day..?” you hesitated.

“It wasn’t too bad,” he assures you with a lopsided smile. You nod.

“Bakugou, I uh-“ He senses the reticence in your tone.

“This about why you tried to call earlier?” He interrupts you, suddenly serious.

“Ah, yeah.” your voice wavered under her vermillion gaze. “Listen I uh, I like you,” he turned his body to square yours, narrowing his eyes as his brows knit together in full concentration, “Too much, and I think it’s probably best if you… stop coming to see me.” You finish your sentence in a rush, staring at the bar counter as your eyes begin to water and your throat tightens into a vice.

Bakugou feels like everything had just come crashing down around him, lightheaded and confused, aghast at your confession.

“This about last night?” His voice a low rasp.

“No, I mean, kinda… no.” You add with more conviction. “I just can’t afford to do this again.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” confusion evident on his face. “This about the asshole you used to date? Cuz I told you I ain’t like whoever that fuckin’ jackass was,” he grabs your wrists, pulling you closer.

“I-I just, it’s still a lot, people at work still give me a hard time and I just started getting clients back after he ruined my name and-“

“Who?” His voice is deadly serious, eyes smoldering, burning into yours as he gripped your chin with a calloused hand and forced you to look at him. “He hurt you?”

You swallow and it feels like sand.

“Who the fuck was it, Aria?” The stage name feels like a knife in your heart.

“I’m sure if you ask around you’ll hear plenty of stories…”

He breathes deeply, pulling you into his chest forcefully, hand on the back of your head, tucking it beneath his chin.

“I don’t care about anything those dicks have to say,” He assured you.

“Please, Bakugou… please go.” Tears stream from your eyes as you push him away from you, his face flashing through a mixture of pain, confusion, and anger. You wipe your eyes delicately so as not to ruin your makeup, resigned to finishing your shift heartbroken. “Go, before I ask the bouncers to do it.” Your voice wavers, betraying you. He snorts,

“Like to see them fuckin’ try.”

Your eyes plead with him, not to make this any harder and his expression frantically searches yours, trying to ascertain your level of conviction before you look away from him, eyes downcast.

He stands abruptly, angrily shoving his chair back into the bar so hard it cracks and several people turn to watch the spectacle.

He slams the door behind him, and you’re keenly aware of the glances and whispers thrown your way. Fixing your hair and pulling yourself up straight, you snap at them,

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Or is your life that fucking boring?” Snatching up your bag, you chug your glass of liquor and hide in the dressing room for a while.

———-

“What the fuck, Bakugou?” Kaminari shouts at him over the sound of a crashing wall. A blast from him had just caused it to collapse and several bricks had narrowly missed their heads.

“Keep up, and it won’t matter,” Bakugou snapped, taking off after the small group of villains they’d been pursuing. Mina managed to trap one of them, knocking him unconscious with a kick to the back of his head.

“Just because you have a death wish doesn’t mean we do,” She seethed at him.

Bakugou ignored her, promptly cornering the remaining two villains until a flash of ice swept in front of him, freezing them in place. His head whipped around to see the scowling face of Shouto before him.

“I didn’t need your fuckin’ help, half n half bastard,” He glowered, sparks snapping around him as he seethed.

“Could have fooled me.” His calm demeanor did nothing to assuage the blonde. “You’re lucky I was nearby before you did any more damage.”

“Fuck off.” He snarled, shoving past him.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki called over his shoulder, “whatever this is about, you need to get past it. This can’t keep happening.”

“Yeah? You’re not my fuckin’ boss, last I checked.” Shouto sighed, greeting the police as they rounded the corner and he briefed them on the situation.

Mina and Kaminari had managed to catch up, breathing heavily.

“Dude, he’s right, you’re gonna get hurt.” Denki tried to place a hand on Bakugou's arm before it was promptly shoved away.

“We’re all worried about you, you know?” Mina admitted, still angry, but trying adopt an air of sympathy.

“I’m fuckin’ fine.” He practically snarled, before turning his back to them and stalking off.

“He’s going to get hurt.” The voice of Shouto startled them from behind, where he watched Bakugou leaving, expression unreadable. He had been witness to Bakugou's growth over the years, and seeing this side of him brought him back to their first year at Yuuei, and it didn’t bode well in the world of pro hero work.

“He’s hurting pretty bad,” Denki tried to sound sympathetic, but the knot forming on his head made it a little difficult.

Shouto looked him over wordlessly,

“If he can’t keep it out of work, someone’s going to get hurt. More than a simple bruise.”

Denki sighed, shaking his head. They all knew he was right, just not how soon it would happen.

It’s only three days later when Bakugou is head to head with another villain, this one stronger than any that had popped up in Musutafu area in recent weeks, his quirk gave him some kind of gravity control on living beings, and several heroes had already fallen behind in the rubble.

Bakugou had blindly chased him onto the roof of a skyscraper, bloodied and battered. One of his grenade gauntlets had started to malfunction. He took a step to leap forward when his foot suddenly felt like lead, and he was crashing through floor after floor of the building, unable to catch himself or stop his descent.

His vision got blurry as he faded in and out of consciousness, the sound of voices, and sirens faded into the background. He remembered being put into a stretcher, and everything else after that was black.

For a week after, he was in and out of consciousness. Flashes of angry fluorescent lights and the shrill, steady beeping of machines. Compared to these, the darkness feels welcoming.

Several friends came to visit him, Deku spending nearly all of his free time by his bedside, hunched over with his head between his knees.

Sometimes Bakugou muttered something unintelligible, and it's another few days before anyone can make out what he’s saying.

“You gotta get through this,” Deku murmurs, “we’re all rooting for you.” It’s a heavy few minutes that pass, the ticking of a clock as loud as thunder in his ears. “You gotta get fitted for your suit for my wedding.” His eyes started to threaten tears as he took in a shaky breath.

Bakugou’s eyes opened, blearily taking in the room around him, groaning as he tried to sit up, a mess of tubes and wires taped to his body.

“Fuckin’ nerd.” He grunted, voice hoarse.

“Kaachan?” Izuku’s head snapped to attention, kneeling by his bedside.

“Aria, where is she?” Is all he can manage before pain wracked his body and he collapsed back onto the bed. “Where is she..?” He opened one eye to meet Deku’s, who looked at him with brows knit in confusion. He thought the name sounded familiar, but it had been so long since he’d heard it that he couldn’t place it.

“Aria?” He repeats.

“The girl from your bachelor party,” he coughs, gripping his ribs tightly. “Her number is in my phone.”

“Oh… your phone got destroyed in the accident.”

“Shit.” He hissed through a clenched jaw.

“I can send someone to go find her?” Izuku suggested lightly and Bakugou nodded, closing his eyes before he fell back asleep.

———

It had been over a month since you’d last heard from Bakugou, and it hurt. It was your decision, so you really had no right to complain and instead buried yourself in work and school.

Still, you often found yourself unblocking him on your phone after a few too many drinks, only to block him again when you woke up sober, checking to make sure you hadn’t sent any messages.

Some part of you hoped that he’d burst through the doors of the club to come see you, demand your attention and refuse to leave.

But he didn’t, and your pride would never allow you to ask him to come back, so you dealt with the dull ache living in your chest.

After a few weeks, you had accepted that he wasn’t coming back and that it was nothing but a beautiful memory, content to leave it at that. Or at least that’s what you’d been telling yourself.

It isn’t even nine o’ clock when a red headed hero you vaguely recognize comes bursting through the front doors, still in his hero costume. Several patrons and dancers turn and chatter quickly erupts between them.

He searched the room, and the moment he made eye contact with you he froze, and beelined for you. Your eyes widened, taking note of the pained expression on his face and a thousand thoughts crashed through your mind.

“Hey,” He pants, a little breathless.

“Hi? You’re uh, Bakugou’s-“

“His friend, yeah.” He nodded, speaking hurriedly. “Listen, Bakugou had an accident and he’s uh, he’s been asking for you. He’s okay right now!” He added quickly, catching notice of your expression. “He’s awake and everything now.”

“What happened?” Your heart felt like it stopped, or like it had dropped into your stomach, or like you were about to throw it up on the floor- or maybe all of them at the same time.

You listen to him recount the situation and move to grab your things, but he stops you, placing a calm hand on your arm.

“You can stop by tomorrow,” You look at him like he’s stupid, shaking your head.

“I’m going now.”

“You can’t, visiting hours are over.” He sighs, recognizing the indignance on your face. “Look, he’s probably sleeping by now. We would have called you earlier but nobody had your number or knew your real name so…”

“So you had to wait to come find me at work.” You finish his sentence for him, regret twisting in your stomach. He nodded.

“So, tomorrow? If you need a ride one of us can come get you.”

“I can just take the train.”

“If you insist,” He doesn’t try to force you, but gave you his number to text you the details of the hospital and left you there to marinate in your remorse.

———-

You didn’t sleep very well that night, if at all, but the second you’re awake, you’re rushing to get ready to leave, unbothered with makeup or getting your hair done. You threw a small bag together and headed out of the door to make your way to the train station.

Your gaze is listless and glassy as you stand, hand gripping the support on the train, dread in your stomach growing until it felt like you had swallowed stones that sat heavy in your stomach.

The walk up to the hospital felt like an endless journey ahead of you, the sidewalk seeming to morph and stretch and grow longer with each step until you’re at the doors of his hospital room, reaching a shaking hand forward to push it open.

When you finally entered, he’s there, sitting up on a pillow and reading a book, all bandages and casts and tubes and machines.

“Bakugou,” You gasped, gripping your bag tightly. He turned to face you, expression softening ever so slightly. You raced over to him, gripping his hand in yours until your knuckles went white. “How do you feel?” You felt hot tears falling down your cheeks and you sniffled, reaching forward to place a delicate hand to his cheek.

“I’m alright, princess. Told ya, one of the best.” He grimaces as pain shoots through his side, but makes every attempt to hide it from you. You have the grace to pretend not to notice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He shrugs.

“S’alright, glad you’re here now.” You attempt a smile through stifled sobs.

Wiping your tears, you grip the front of his hospital gown, trying to muster some kind of anger at him and failing.

“Why’d you have to go and do something so stupid?” Your laugh is choked with sorrow and it hurt him to hear it.

“Didn’t think you’d care so much, Aria.” He rumbled and laughed, raspy and comforting. The sound of your dancer name made you wince and you told him your real one. “Only gonna call you that if ya start calling me Katsuki.”

“Alright, Katsuki.” You nodded, promising him.

“Can I kiss you now?” He scrunches his nose, furrowing his brow and you giggle, leaning over him and for the first time your lips met.

His fingers card through your hair, pushing your head to the side to fit his lips against yours. Your lips move, softly and slowly against his, gripping the front of his shirt tightly.

He pressed himself more firmly against you, parting his mouth to swipe his tongue across your lips and beg for entry- and you let him in. His teeth graze against your bottom lip and a soft moan escaped you, and he smirks, swallowing it in his own open, hungry mouth.

It’s several minutes before you pull yourselves apart, lips bruised and swollen from the intensity of the kiss and you stroked his hair, admiring the shades of crimson in his gaze.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I missed you, too, Katsuki.” Your admission has you both reeling, you buried your face in his neck and breathed him in. The smell is familiar and makes you feel like you were home again, bittersweet nostalgia like heroin in your veins. “Sorry if I look awful, I didn’t really take the time to-“

“Shut up,” he swats your head, “You really think I give a shit about that?”

“Guess you’re not really in a position to judge.” You giggle and he rolls his eyes.

“Alright, smartass.” He took in your visage a moment more, hoping to himself that this wasn’t a dream and that you were really here, standing in front of him. Instead of pinching himself, he flicks you on the forehead, and regains some of his snark.

“Ow,” you rub your forehead.

“Ya gonna let me take you on a fuckin’ date now.” You give him a half smile, eyes glittering behind tears.

“If you get better, then I promise I will.”

“You got it, princess.” He smirks, before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

—————

His recovery isn’t fast, but it isn’t necessarily slow, either.

You tell him about your quirk for the first time and about why you had chosen your area of study. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious about it, and getting to know all the little things about you was something he cherished, even if he teased you for it.

You told him that you’d use it to help him, but that it was considered unethical until you had your license. He wouldn’t say it, but it was something he admired about you and reminded him of the days before he got his hero license.

Even if sometimes he wished you’d use it to ease his pain just a little bit.

“You’re a lot shorter without those heels,” he remarked, mussing your hair on the top of your head, swatting his hand away.

There were some things you still wouldn’t talk about, like family and your ex- that he was careful to tread lightly around. You’d tell him when you were ready, he assumed.

You often came around during his physical therapy sessions, conversation helping to keep his mind off of how hard it was for him at times.

“Bet you can’t cook for shit,” He taunted through painfully gritted teeth as he stretched his body, one arm over his head, torso twisted and elongated.

“I could cook circles around you.” You retorted, watching as his muscles twitched and relaxed with each stretch. He was fucking beautiful, and it made you long to run your fingers over the fine lines and veins on his body. You wanted to place loving kisses over each and every scar and wondered about the ones you couldn’t see.

“Guess you’ll have to come over and prove it, then.” He smirked, watching your cheeks turn pink and you shrugged shyly.

“Maybe I will.”

He was allowed to leave the hospital about a week later, and you were there to meet him as he finished packing his things.

“Hungry?” You asked, smoothing the sheets over the mattress he had slept on for so long, he dwarfed it by comparison and seeing him stand you realized how much larger than you he really was now that he was able to pull his powerful frame fully upright.

“Thought you said you were gonna cook for me?” He slips his bag over his shoulder, looking you up and down as you stammer for words.

You were excited, terrified, at the prospect of being alone with him in his house. He snorted, swatting you lightly on the side of your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time, idiot.” You blushed, as he took your hand in his and led you out the front doors of the hospital. Anxiety gripped your heart as you anticipated a swarm of paparazzi to be waiting outside, but there were none.

Katsuki watched you from the corner of his eye and snorted.

“Don’t wanna be seen with me?” His voice was light, and teasing but your expression darkened and he tilted his head as concern colored his gaze.

“It’s not that.” You didn’t want to explain to him about the ghosts in your past that could resurrect at any moment, that you worried the second they found out about your new life they’d come back to ruin your happiness again. You’d done your best to leave them behind, but the past was never quite dead.

“Hmm,” He hums, squeezing your hand tightly. His car had been dropped off for him and he unlocked it, letting you clamber inside.

“It feels strange to be in a car,” You murmur, running your hands along the fine leather seats.

“You took the train here every day?” He asked, mildly surprised.

“Mhmm.” You look out the window until you realize that he’s still staring at you. “What? There’s nothing wrong with public transport.” He shook his head as he started the car.

“Did you need to stop at the grocery store first?”

“No.” He scoffs, “I get them delivered.”

“Oh.” Your voice is soft and it dawns on you just how different his life was from yours.

“Did you need anythin’?”

“No, I’m alright.”

You finish the drive in relative silence, listening to the radio as it played quietly and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

When you pull up to the building you can’t help but gasp, mouth open slightly and he snickers, getting out and handing the valet his keys. It’s modern, and slightly grand and you feel a little out of place here, but he takes your hand in his again, rubbing small circles against your palm.

His apartment itself isn’t very opulent, minimal high quality furniture with subtle displays of wealth. Nice clothes, gaming systems, and a computer set up that looks like it must have cost a lot of money.

He tosses his bag down by the couch and pads softly into the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out various ingredients, pots and pans, and you seat yourself at the island.

“This is really nice.”

He shrugs.

“I get by.” You scoff, shaking your head and he smirks.

He begins prepping the food and you watch him, admiring the subtle ways he moves and the way his hair falls across his face. Your stomach twists and a feeling you can’t fully describe takes hold of you, something heavy and tangible in the air.

Being alone like this with him, the intimacy of domesticity was something you never thought you’d see from the pro hero, and it filled you with warmth.

The curry he’d made was already spicy, but you gaped at him as he added a significant amount more to his own.

“Jesus,” you breathed.

“Scared?” Your eyes narrow as you snatch the bottle from his hands and pour a hefty amount into your own and he laughs as your eyes water when you take a bite.

“S’good.” You manage and he nods.

“Better be.”

You help him do the dishes and dry your hands when you finish. He reaches up to a cabinet above the fridge and pulls down a bottle of expensive whiskey and two crystal glasses.

“A lot better than the shit you got at your club,”

You sip it, following him to the couch and sigh contentedly when he pulls you into his chest, warm and secure. You hum as you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering when he places a warm kiss against your jawline. You return the favor against the pulse point of his neck. You feel him hum beneath you, adjusting your body with his hands on your hips so that you’re facing him.

“You really are fuckin’ beautiful,” He murmurs, vermillion eyes holding you in place.

“You’re one to talk,” You mumble, watching as his chin tilts forward, he pushes the pleats of your skirt up over your hips and his hand draws back to land a harsh slap on your ass, pulling a strained whimper from you.

“What’d I say about talkin’ about yourself like that?”

Your eyes water as he slaps your ass again.

“I asked you a question, princess,” his voice is dripping with condescension and it makes your clit throb.

“S-sorry,”

“Sorry, what?” His hand lands against you again, pleasure blooming along side pain when his other hand pressed against your clothed slit, taunting you with light movements.

“Sorry, daddy?” You try, looking up at him for approval, eyes glittering with tears and a desire to please that leaves him breathless.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

“That’s right,” He rasps against your ear, moving his hand to press your hips down onto his half hard cock, rewarding you. You whine helplessly, grinding your hips against his, desperate for some kind of friction to quell the aching heat between your thighs.

He trails open mouthed kisses down your neck, biting at the sensitive spot near your collarbone, and you moan, fingers digging into his hair.

He holds you against him tightly, leaning you back, pressing himself on top of you, fingers finding their way to the hem of your shirt. He slips his hand underneath it, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe, light headed and unable to believe what was happening.

It felt unreal, to be here in his apartment, alone, and god he felt so good against you, his skin swelteringly hot and his weight was comforting as it pinned you in place.

You yelp a little as he shoves his hand under your bra, pinching your nipples lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of your neck. You reach your shaky hands down to pull your shirt off and he helps you pull it over your head, deft hands reaching behind you and unclasping your bra.

He doesn’t waste any time closing his mouth around one of your sensitive nipples, sucking and pulling it lightly with his teeth while his other hand roughly massaged your other neglected breast, thumb rubbing circles over its stiffening peak.

You tried to grind your bare sex needily against his thigh but he swiftly halted your movements with one powerful hand on your hips.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he released your nipple and you shuddered when the cool air met wet skin. He leaned back, getting to his knees on the floor as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, placing kisses on alternating thighs, tauntingly close to your aching heat. He pressed one finger against your underwear, savoring the way it gathered your slick and grew dark with your lust.

“So needy,” He teased, biting near the apex of your thighs, hands holding your thighs apart as they fought to close around him. He hummed against you, breathing in deeply and you felt your walls spasming around nothing. He removed your panties in one fluid motion, nuzzling his face against your warmth, tasting you with small, rough licks that had you mewling and your toes curling.

He pulled his face away, running his ring finger lightly along your folds, gathering the slick that had your thighs sticky.

“God, you really are a messy little slut,” He growled, parting you with his finger and circling your entrance.

“Please, Katsuki,” your voice broke as you tried to grind your hips against his finger and guide them where you really wanted them.

There’s another sting as he slaps his hand against the side of your ass.

“Is that what you call me?”

“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling tears well in your eyes, “Please, daddy, I need you,”

“Need me, hah?”

He growled lowly, slowly slipping his finger into you and watched as your face contorted with pleasure, working you open slowly.

He joins it with another thick finger, scissoring them with agonizing slowness and dexterous fingers.

“Oh shit…”

Your whole body tensed when he licked a long, flat line up your slit, circling your sensitive mound and sucking on it softly, your nails raking against the fabric of the couch.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” You whined, back arching and he hums against you, curling his fingers against that soft, spongey spot inside you that had you moaning an equal song of curses and praise, that made you abandon all sense and coherent speech.

His fingers picked up the pace and you felt the hot coil in your stomach tightening.

He watched you come undone, crimson eyes locking with yours, intent on bringing you over the edge.

“Daddy, please, I can’t- can I cum, please please please…” You whine, struggling to breathe, eyes rolling back into your head as he sucked harder on your clit, tongue moving expertly against it with a ravenous urgency. He hums his permission and after a few more harsh curls of his fingers he feels the tight walls of your cunt begin to flutter around them and you keen loudly, grinding your hips helplessly against his face as he helped you ride out the harsh waves of your orgasm.

He pulled away from you as you caught your breath, a darkening spot on his pants where pre had soaked through. He pulled you close to him, kissing you with more tenderness and care than you anticipated, tasting yourself on his lips. You take his fingers in his hands and suck on the softly, tongue swirling around them and closing your eyes.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He mumbled, picking you up in his arms and resuming the kiss as he carried you to the bedroom. He lay you down and your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle while he ripped his shirt off over his head. He stood before you now completely naked, all muscle and skin and sweat. Your breath caught in your throat and you moaned softly,

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, trailing your fingers down the sparse hairs of his stomach to where his cock sat, thick and long and curved delicately upward, making your mouth water to taste him- and you do.

You trail the tip of your tongue from his balls down the underside along the veins, leading to the pink mushroomed tip, slipping it behind your lips and humming as he threw his head back with a groan.

He placed a rough palm against the back of your head as you took more of him, eyes watering when it hit the back of your throat. He pulled himself out before thrusting back in, holding your head with both hands as he fucked your mouth at a heavy pace.

“Shit, fuck, fuck,” He grunted, watching you, glassy eyed as you obediently sucked his cock, “Good fuckin’ girl,” he pants, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust. Your lungs are burning for air when he finally pulls himself away, cock thick and throbbing. He pumps his cock a few times, motioning with his chin, “Turn over,” and you do, ass in the air, waiting for him.

You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he settles behind you. The sensation of his cock pressing against your slit has you pushing back against him, but he doesn’t give you any relief.

“Such an impatient little slut,” he coos, voice dripping with condescension as he ruts the length of his cock along your slit, spreading your slick. “God you really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He rasped, leaning his body over yours and you groaned.

“Please daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” You pressed your burning face into the pillows beneath you and he laughed cruelly.

“Poor little princess,” He ruts against you again, the head of his cock catching on your little bundle of nerves, sending jolts through your body. “How bad do you want me, hmm?” His voice lilts, taunting you.

“S-so bad, daddy, please… I’ll do anything.” Your eyes are watering now, driven mad by the anticipation building again in your body, impetuous hips pressing back against his length.

“Think you can take it, princess?” He practically spits the last word at you.

“Know I can,” you screw your eyes shut, gripping the sheets tightly. That answer seems to satisfy him, as he lines himself up with you aching center, slowly pushing the fat head of his cock inside you, reveling in the way your breath hitches and your body tenses up around him. He pulls away slightly before giving shallow, deliberate thrusts into your taut muscles.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, angel,” His voice is strained, “Chokin’ my fuckin’ cock with your perfect little cunt, takin‘ me so well,” You whimper, adjusting to the stretch as he manages to bury himself into you entirely, stilling his movements for a moment. His cock is heavy, and you feel so fucking full, brain devoid of any thoughts that aren’t Katsuki.

He pulls back, feeling the way your silky walls try to suck him back into you, thrusting forward and pulling your hips back in time with his movements and you keen loudly as his cock presses against your cervix.

He sets a moderate pace, eyes half lidded as he watches you writhe beneath him, babbling incoherently.

“F-feels, feels so so good, daddy,” you whine pathetically.

“Y-yeah, baby, fuckin’, fuckin’ know it does,” He pants as he picks up the pace slightly, cock dragging along your walls, a white ring of cream building in his coarse hair. He fucked you forecully, hips snapping into yours as he held you up against him, pulling your back flush with his. He slows his pace, roughly massaging your breasts as he moves languidly in and out of you, leaving just the tip of his cock buried each time before canting his hips forward again.

“Oh, f-fuck,” The pleasure was unimaginable, and when he pressed a heavy palm against your abdomen you felt your body begin to shake. He brushed a rough thumb over your clit and you moaned, high pitched and breathy,

“Too much, daddy, I-I s’too much, please,” Tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as he bit down on your shoulder, pain blurring with pleasure.

“Such a good little slut for me,” He mumbles against your throat before pulling out of you and flipping you onto your back, setting himself between your folds, forcing your legs up onto his shoulders. He doesn’t wait to shove his cock back into you, and a scream dies in your throat as he fucks the air from your lungs and the only sounds are skin slapping against skin.

“Made to take my cock,” he breathed against your ear.

He pressed his weight down onto you, breath coming in ragged pants as sweat coated his brow from the effort of his movements.

“God, fuckin tight little cunt, feel s’fuckin’ good,” The filth falling from his lips made your body burn.

“D-don’t stop, daddy, please don’t stop,” Your breasts bounced from the ferocity of his thrusts, bed frame slamming against the wall.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ stop, never wanna leave your fuckin’ cunt,” he grunted, feeling his own orgasm draw dangerously near, “Fuck you into the shape of my cock, my good girl.” He emphasized the possessive, pressed every inch of himself into you with deliberate thrusts, abdomen brushing against your clit and any thought that wasn’t him was gone from your mind- all you could manage was a string of

“Daddy, daddy, please, fuck me,”

“Gonna fuckin’ cum on daddy’s cock?” He rasped, gripping your hair in his fist, pulling back on it roughly when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Wanna cum again, you greedy thing?” All you could manage was a choked sob and nodded in response as he fucked you into the mattress. “Cum on my fuckin’ cock, then, come on,” His thrusts were becoming erratic as he got impossibly hard inside of you and you reached shaking fingers down to rub messy circles against your swollen clit.

You keened loudly as your orgasm ripped through you and you dug little half moons into his back with your nails, sobbing as the waves of pleasure washed through your body and he fucked you through your second orgasm. You’re still dizzy, vision blurred from the mixture of tears and pleasure as his muscles tensed. He moved to pull out but you tightened your legs around him,

“Katsuki, please, cum in me,” His expression darkened, eyes a conflagration of lust hearing his name, a breathy moan on your lips.

“Want me to breed your slutty little cunt?” He groaned loudly, and it made you ache and throb around him, “Dirty fuckin’ slut wants me to breed her, hah? That what you want?” There’s an urgency to his movements now, his desire to mark you as his, overrides every other thought and it’s enough to send him over the edge as he spilled inside you with a low growl, movements slowing into deep, purposeful thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into your sex.

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” he breathed, and you stiffened a little, caught slightly off gaurd. Was it just the haze of sex, the post orgasm dizziness that made him say… that?

He lay on top of you, both of you panting and struggling to catch your breath, placing hot, wet kisses against each other's bodies. His lips crashed heavily against yours, teeth clicking and noses pressed roughly together. He pulled away and your heart ached at the lack of contact as he pulled his softening cock from you with a lewd squelch.

“Katsuki?” You murmured, just barely a whisper.

“Hmm?” He stood, grabbing a towel to clean the both of you off.

“Did you mean it?” He studied your pensive expression.

“That I love you?”

“Mhm.” He closed the distance between you, taking your jaw in his hands and forced you to meet his gaze, hot coals glowing with emotion.

“Yeah, I’m in love with ya,” He says, sincerely.

“I… I love you, too, Katsuki.”

He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, before tapping your ass lightly and pulling away, holding your hand in his.

“Let’s take a shower, you’re all fuckin’ sticky.”

———————-

There’s a few days where you’re blissfully, indescribably happy. There really isn’t much that could be done to ruin your mood. You went through the day, feeling light and as if the ground beneath you were made of clouds.

But of course, it can’t last.

Of course, the past you’d been running from would catch up to you as soon as you’d stopped to appreciate the life you’d built around you.

It’s a simple text message from an unknown number that reads,

Unknown: does your new boy toy know about us? does he know what a slut you are?

Unknown: maybe he should get a look at the videos I have.

Your heart sinks, and you quickly delete and block the number, hands shaking.

It’s nothing, can’t mean anything, it’s just someone messing with you, certainly.

It isn’t until you’re checking out of a grocery store when a magazine cover catches your eye, and you freeze, squinting at the pictures plastered across the front.

They’re of you and Katsuki, walking out of the hospital, and another of the two of you walking into his apartment building.

Your mouth goes dry as you pick it up with shaking hands.

The cashier waves, calling you forward, and you put it back, hiding it behind a different magazine.

“Oh, sorry,” you fumble with your wallet as you pay and grab your bags, rushing out of the store.

‘This can’t be happening.’ You wanted to cry, to throw something, to disappear into the earth.

None of which happened, and you were still standing outside, mind reeling as a storm slowly began to roll in.