#it was tipping into sappy real quick

[getodrools]

jjk men having wet dreams about you and waking up needy and pants soaked…….. thank you for listening to my ted talk 🌚🌚

໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ yes and yes. omfggg the big men of jjk being so whiney and needy >> such a good combooo

★ ┆ NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS .ᐟ ── JJK VARIOUS ‧

FT ‧ gojo, getō, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso

⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con, somnophilia, dry humping, lots of messes ( winkwonk ) from vv needy men, dirty taaalk, warnings will be noted and will vary on each character. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.4k + |

͙͘͡★ SATORU GOJO!

somno, dry humping, fingering, mind fuck ( ?? ) !

Gojo’s eyes are snapped wide. Simply, laying silent and annoyed – tight-lipped and motionless, yet his wet cock is the only thing moving… agonizingly too… Feeling himself twinge between stiff legs ‘till it itched; each panging throb forced his meaty log to rub right up against the mess oozing through thin fabric.

“Fuck…” Gojo was more than annoyed watching how you peacefully drift off beside him, unbothered and probably coveting in the sweetest of dreams… A silent ponder hoping some were of him, just how his every thought was of you. Well, Clearly. The sappy mess globbed up in his pants was an apparent sign even his dreams clutter of just you, to which, Gojo could no longer stay silent about…

“Dreamin' baby?… Bet you are…” Shimmying himself close, the gentle press he rolls with smeared the gluey muck across your bare skin, “Any about me?… I’d hope,” Voice so smooth you swear you could hear your boyfriend echoing in your cute little head, “Just had one of you… i was fucking that pretty pussy…” Like sand falling, he whispers gently at the shell of your ear, taking a nip before, “Mmh… just like this…” Gojo’s hand slips right between the sweet heat of your legs.

“Ah… mmpf–” You twitch. Your brows too, knitting together into a deep parabola. Was this a dream still? A sudden naughty turn from baking with friends sure was a jump! — Ah! But that pinch twisting at your pearled hood felt all too real…

Gojo worked quick. Cooing across naked flesh soothed you back – even soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his persistence worked well too, “You were wet just like this baby…” The pads of his fingers mush between your slit, gently scrissoring folds open to catch at those lewd webs, “Better be dreaming of me fucking you… so fuckin’ wet…” Gojo hooks a digit in.

“… To… Toru…?” Bedhead sluggish with sleepy eyes drooped, all you could feel was Gojo pressing flush against your ass harder than usual — was there a wet spot too? Each roll he shoved against you worsened the damp spot; all seeping with warm cum and more pre to bleed through your clothes… And was there a damn finger popped in your pussy?!

“Hehe…” That mischievous and annoying giggle hucked right into your neck, “Look who's having a wet dream now, naughty girl…” Needy bastard.

͙͘͡★ SUGURU GETŌ!

somno, oral sex ( f –> m ), cum shot !

The rather poignant moans slipping out from between Getō's lips woke you up. And the obvious tent building in your boyfriend's briefs was standing proudly from strong hips; an obelisk of flesh that jutted out as far as a forearm was a clear indication he was hungry even in deep thoughts...

Bored and damper with a small smile, you listen to how this eruption was caused by you, "Y/n... baby... More..." Tenderly cuddling up to his side to watch his ache – to watch the little twinges in his features spark... Suguru was so cute when he'd have naughty fantasies... Watching how his length jerked around in confines; forcing tight cloth wrapping his capped tip to suffocate. To further damp in wet seed, 'till the dark spot bubbled out with more ropes of cum.

"Fuck–mmh–Please... Need you... fuck..."

Your measly hand dipping between bodies seemed to have drawn out those very feeble dreams he was crying out for to beyond... Especially the second you popped his cock out; he was drenched – sweat and cum were glistening along his length.

Suguru twisted around, unconsciously sucking in his lower lip at the tease, "Yes... mmh..." Clammy skin throbbed under your touch... The wrist-thick girth you twist at oozed, just begging for attention.

Heeding to his needs, you squeeze yourself between his splayed legs; settling to wrap pretty lips around Suguru's crown. And like a suction, you swallow him up; impaling yourself with his slab of cock meat 'till it punched at the fluttering length of your barriers. Blocking the entirety of your windpipe with ease, but too determined to fill his dreams with more fantasies, you gurgle him whole…

Perhaps the sloppy sounds coming from your mouth did little to dissuade him awake, but the tight lip you ring around his midsection forced his face to scrunch in, "Ohmyfuck... baby, yes..." He was close — again!

Salty in white thickness, the slobber you bubble out forced another geyser of hot cum to shoot.

Balls tightening and clenching up to empty across your tongue, Getō gasps, "Baby?! Fuck!" Hips jerking upwards, either surprised to see his pretty girl working his hard cock, or the overstimulation catching him by his throat.

Either or, he was damn grateful to have such an attentive girlfriend, "Holy shit... Babe--" Getō stutters, but the faint smile hanging by a thread was all he could muster up peering down at your muck-covered, pretty face...

͙͘͡★ KENTO NANAMI!

marriage, mentions of pregnancy, cock warming !

Sensitive skin chafing along his briefs, the sap pearling out was sticky. Damnnit. Again?

It's happened three times this week on your honeymoon already, and it's becoming agonizing… He always tried to ignore the way he'd moan and twist himself awake, but it was extra hard dismissing the wet patch soiling his third pair of briefs… It made him feel like a hormonal teen – embarrassing for a grown, now wedded man, but he couldn't help it! You're so beautiful and everything he yearns for – you're just cooped up in his every damn thought!

“Honey…” Nanami sighs.

The soft pads gliding across the curvature of your back form a parabola to arch in chills. You wind your hips, “Mhm?… Oh…” You recognize that sticky patch soiled low in his pants. Memorizing the way how he'd shimmy so close ‘till he could stuff his face into the nook of your neck before humming.

“Mrs. Nanami… My lovely wife…” Gentle voice feathering across the shell of your ear, Kento was gentle, besides the small pinch at your side to make you giggle, “Want to have a lazy morning?”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Then you found out you were pregnant.” As those words cooed out, his cock throbs deep inside gummy walls, and your heart does too, “Those are your wet dreams?” You giggle into the pillow, but the soft hump rolling against doughy globes robs that very breath.

“Mhm… Well, I think so? I fucked you full, so I assumed you'd be round and full with my kids…” The tender thrust bucking up into you signifies what he's been craving these past few nights – inner thoughts swirling with the idea of you being packed like a snow cone!

“Oh…” You gulp as Nanami pulls you closer by the hips, nudging in ‘till he was balls deep. It was like putting his dick to sleep in a pillow.

Sinking in every thick, turgid inch of cock meat into spongy walls that snap and suck him in, you could feel your husband worm right up to your womb. Thumping to invade soft barriers – he was stuffing you to the hilt purposely, as if he was trying to fuck the same thought into you…

Nanami hums, “What? Don't you want some one day? Or do you just like being stuffed?” Either or…

͙͘͡★ TOJI FUSHIGURO!

somno, cunnilingus, squirting, he's grouchy!

“Make me a mess…” Toji is irritated, this is a damn work night and he's woken up with drawls sticking to the fat of his thighs, again. Breaking those sweet sweet eight hours of sleep – if any, all of it was swept away with filthy thoughts of you…

Grumbling between the sweet heat of your legs, “I’ll make you a mess.” The assassin speared a wet muscle up and between your folds; flicking at your hood ‘till it puffed out… “Let’s see how you like it…” With a forceful shove, his lips mashed into those soft pillows.

Your head mashed into pillows yourself, unaware of the man feasting below your waist. Only aware— barely aware of those flitted blissful dreams…Which now, all warp into filthy scenes of sweating bodies humping and rolling together… His tongue was working as one of a spring bouncing into place; romping in and out so deep, he was fucking with your imagination...

His mouth suckled over the fine features of you lewdly, nestling the fat into the crook of his nose to ground his lips into lush flesh further. Smooshing folds down to nip at, Toji smirks, watching you swerve in sheets just how he was.

“Oh!— Fuck?!” Your eyes snap back wide, were you cumming? Peering down, “Toji?!” And gasping with wailing hands reaching for the shaggy strands sticking out beneath sheets, you were on the brink.

Still leaden, your were too late to pop off that suction forcing you to topple over... The unexpected clench twisting inside you made your eyes bug out. A sudden breathlessness rose to your throat – all the air in your body was forced out in one huge rush, just like the geyser spewing out from between your legs.

Pussy leaking, the man hiding under sheets peeked up, “Annoying huh?” Shaken and mottled with chills, no. Not… really? Though, the sheets and the entirety of his mouth were soaked, so were a couple of clothes, that was the only peeving thing about this… but it is laundry day anyway…

͙͘͡★ RYŌMEN SUKUNA!

cum eating, blow job-ish, he's also vv grouchy !

"Wake up." One of his strong arms sling over your shoulder, "Brat. Wake up." And it twists at the skin trying to nuzzle under the blankets.. Sukuna sighs, heavily, "You have a mess to clean up. Wake up right now." The rough nudge at your body was more than enough to wake you...

Humming, you whirl around only to get a crotch-level shot of your husband! Blinking, he clearly scooted his damn butt all the way up to the headboard, making sure you'd see the very mess he was complaining about soon as you roused. —And the still pounding cock that jutted in embarrassing need. That thick, meaty pole standing rock hard shaded into a deep red, the cum-soaked skin so flushed, he couldn't stop twitching... oh he was aching...

"Clean me." Sukuna waves a hand around. Subtly pointing at the gooey puddle pooling at his tummy, and it was a lot. Thick too, cooling ropes of midst cum stuck to his barred skin like a busted open bottle of glue.

"Sukuna... It looks like you made this mess—”

"No. You did. You keep sticking yourself in my head. It's annoying waking up like this." . . .

Sighing, "It's O.K to say you were dreamin' of me, again..." He hisses at that remark, but your cooling tongue flicking out simmered his temper...

Nectarous lotion and salt lathered over your lips as your hand dragged a long, languid tease across his shaft, "You're so moody when you're needy." Sukuna went to bite at those words, but feeling you vacuum up the globs of cum forced him to gnaw at his lip instead.

Sukuna's cum strung in your mouth as if you were flossing with it; running thickly down your throat, you slurp his tatted tummy clean. The thick blobs felt like gum rolling around in your mouth, trying to drink him up 'till the only slime trailing and glistening across skin was your messy spit.

"Good girl... Don't forget my cock now.." Milking the rest of his hot load with tight lips, you gurgle down his seed like a smoothie.

Suckling at the King's crown, Sukuna eventually deemed himself clean once you finally kitten-licked all the way down to his fist-sized baby makers... Sparkling new!

͙͘͡★ CHOSO KAMO!

he's a mess, dry humping, he whimpers ofc !

Twisting and turning, Choso was shamelessly humping at the sheets, again. It was almost the AM, but those sweaty limbs linking with yours kept forcing you awake...

"Choso..." You whine, but no louder than the one wafting straight into your back. Choso nestled beneath the covers and sunk himself further down the bed than usual; cramming himself against your spine to hump at the plush of your thighs 'till another bubble of cum oozed out his rubbery tip.

This was the third load he's cried out, so far! It's like a never-ending dream of fucking you raw when your around... He just couldn't stop thinking of you no matter how hard he tried! Even the agonizing nights when he slept on the couch, he'd fuck himself straight into the pillows – hearing whines of your name echoing from down the hall kept you up those times!

Choso's hips keep rutting like a damn dogs, feet kept kicking, and cock still throbbing knowing you were around, no matter what...

The longer he rolled his hips into yours, Choso's mess went tacky. It began to string out in fine lines through the sheer gaps in his confines; almost frothing like icing the longer he kept at it, unknowingly soaking your lower half too.

You couldn't stay sore with him, especially when his droopy eyes fluttered open. He looks so embarrassed out of his mind as he looks up at you like a bad puppy, realizing the mess he's created, he feels like an animal... Shame.

Whines turning into frantic rambles, "I'm sorry... l don't know what get a hold of me... Please..." And the soft whimpers following each syllable soften your gaze.

You peck at his swollen lips. Still too sensitive, Choso winces, and his hips jolt forward.

The wet center of his crotch nudges with yours; poking the hard blanketed tip right between the sweet heat of your legs. All you could feel was runny sap dampening your shorts, almost cooling as it soaked through to your panties, even feeling the moisture cling against your bundle of nerves.

"It's ok baby... I love you too." Nuzzling your nose into his, Choso was on the brink of groping cloud nine, again...

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: JJK MASTERLIST –>

[thepenultimateword]

Date or Die Part 10

This might be so sappy you could make syrup out of it, but I give you, dear followers, the Date or Die Finale! To think I wrote part 1 as a quick little prompt fill on a whim in April; it’s crazy that its been nearly 10 months since then! Thanks for coming along for the ride!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine

Supervillain took a long sip from their mug and squinted down their arm at the soft-colored mood board on their phone screen. The tea had gone from lukewarm to cold, allowing a ring of grainy sediment to settle at the bottom; now it swirled up and skimmed bitterly across their tastebuds, causing them to wince and stick out their tongue.

"You waited too long again," Villain said, glancing over the large stack of envelopes piled up on either side of them. How were they so good at noticing every little thing? Even when they weren't looking?

"It's gross when it's hot," Supervillain countered, forcing another sip out of pure defiance. "What do you think of this combination?"

They leaned halfway out of bed and thrust their phone in Villain's direction.

Instead of leaning out and meeting Supervillain halfway, Villain let their pen clatter to the desktop and strode over to the bed, crawling over Supervillain's legs and snuggling into their side. "Alright, let's see it."

Supervillain fought the warmth rising in their cheeks--that had been happening a lot lately--and brought the phone up to their lover's eye level.

"Oh, I like the dusty rose and dusty blue. Oh! And those string lights are beautiful. Do you think we can find some like that to put over the wedding bower? We could mix in real flowers and it would look like it's glowing!"

Supervillain cleared their throat, a well of uncontrollable affection surging up their airway as per usual. "Of course. Maybe we could go out and look at flower arrangements tomorrow?"

Villain nodded, stretching their arms and all ten fingers out in front of them before leaning back against Supervillain's chest. Supervillain had the sudden urge to kiss them. All over. Forever. Sometimes their presence still felt surreal. A dream they might wake up from at any moment.

"See something you like?" Villain said.

Supervillain jolted, averting their eyes to the wall in front of them. "How are invitations going?"

"Pretty good." Villain began playing with a lock of Supervillain's hair that had fallen across their shoulder. "Though I'm still stuck on whether or not to invite Friend."

Supervillain immediately turned their gaze back on their lover.

"My ex-best friend who tried to kill you and now is confined to a high-security prison? That Friend?"

"They invited you to theirs. It's only polite to return the favor. Besides, it's not like they can actually show up."

"No, but it's the principal of it. You try to kill my fiancee, you don't get an invite to the wedding."

"To be fair," Villain said, a sly grin curving their jaw. They twisted the lock of hair tighter around their finger and tugged just hard enough to tip their chin in their direction. "We weren't really dating when they tried to kill me."

Supervillain swallowed hard. "Th-they didn't know that."

This villain was going to be the death of them. Where did they get off flipping their roles around, them the suave charmer and Supervillain the flustered mess?

"And I already liked you by then. I liked you before then. So on all accounts it was...utterly...completely...unacceptable."

Villain was so close, Supervillain could smell the strawberries and cream on their breath from breakfast. It blended with a hint of ginger from their tea. That matching mug set was one of the best purchases Supervillain had ever made. It made Villain's eyes shine, sort of the way they shone now, like a couple stars blinking out of an inky black firmament. Just...beautiful. They were so...so...

"S-stop teasing me!" they cried, shooting upright and out of Villain's grasp. They snatched the ends of their long hair and bundled it up over their burning face.

Villain fell on their back cackling. "But it's so fun! You're like this super scary steel trap all covered in barbs and spikes, it's the best watching you turn into jelly."

"Evil!"

"Villain, darling." Gentle fingers slid over their shoulders as the smaller criminal draped over Supervillain's back and wrapped their arms around their neck. "You didn't know what you were getting back then, did you?"

Supervillains wrapped their hands around Villain's fists. "I did actually. I've always known you were clever, conniving, and mean, but you're also gentle, empathetic, and kind. I love every part of you."

"You're sappy." Villain nuzzled their ear.

Supervillain pecked the corner of their mouth. "You love it."

For a moment there was only warm silence, then Villain tipped halfway over their shoulder to meet their eyes. "So. Friend?"

"I don't know why you're insisting on it, but fine."

"And Friend's Spouse?"

"Really? They might actually come."

"They did testify against Friend in court."

Supervillain sighed heavily. "Fine. Whatever you want, love."

Villain grinned and dropped their weight back against the curve of their spine. "I love you."

"I...love you too."

Supervillain never thought they'd get to say that in their lifetime with such confidence, but they were immensely glad it was true.

***

"This was their idea, wasn't it?"

Friend sat in the far corner of their white, empty cell. A metal twin-sized bed and a plain, three-compartment chest of drawers were the only furnishings in the drab space. A framed picture of their spouse--glass removed of course--was about the only thing bringing any sort of personalness to the place. And now the wedding invitation.

"How'd you know?" Supervillain said, standing a few paces back from the glass, thumb hooked in the corners of their pockets.

Friend looked up, eyes flashing. They wore the face of young, golden-haired ship captain today. The one they'd stabbed in the back at the end of a sea heist six years ago. According to the prison guards, they did that often. Wearing faces that didn't belong to them. The prison's therapist said it was most likely a form of escapism, wanting to be anyone but themself at the moment. "Because they're petty. Like you. Like me."

A beat passed. The beat that carried the unsaid question they both held under their tongues. Did it have to be this way? Was there any universe where this turned out differently? Or were they always destined to crash and burn?

Supervillain shifted their weight to their other foot. "I didn't know jealousy would make you so homicidal."

"Everything makes me homicidal."

Supervillain chuckled humorlessly. "That's true."

The overhead light buzzed mechanically in the silence. The invitation's soft paper rustled as Friend rubbed the corners between their thumbs and forefingers.

"I know you've said you have nothing to say,'" Supervillain probed, "but..."

"It wasn't because I loved you," Friend said. Their voice snapped out cold and harsh like a whip. "I didn't. Not the way I knew you loved me. I'd known for years."

Supervillain's stomach squirmed a little. It probably shouldn't matter now, those feelings were just as nonexistent as Friend's, but they couldn't help but feel somewhat embarrassed that they'd apparently been so obvious.

The corners of the photo softened under Friend's pressure, and they slowly peeled them away, letting them flutter to the ground in little crumples of color. "I thought I wanted you with someone else. I truly did. Until you were."

"I wasn't--"

"I know. But you did fall in love. And suddenly, I knew I couldn't live without your attention. Didn't matter that I didn't want you. Still didn't want you. I just liked being your world. Having you on a string. Watching you dance to my tunes. That's probably sick, isn't it?"

"Well...that's what I always liked about you." Supervillan's eyes followed the next shreds of paper as they fell.

"But not anymore."

"No. Not anymore."

Friend stopped shredding just short of the faces and set the invitation flat on their dresser. Their eyes flicked up to meet Supervillain's through the glass.

"You're softer now."

"I'm not interested in playing with lives anymore, if that's what you mean."

Friend shrugged. "Dunno. Guess there's just an edge to you that's gone now." Their voice went softer. "I was never going to do that for you."

Once, Supervillain wouldn't have needed words to sit in Friend's presence. Their gaze had always been enough. Now they wanted nothing more than to get out and back to Villain's awaiting comfort.

"I should get going. Villain is outside."

They started toward the mouth of the hallway.

"Supervillain."

They stopped, half-turning back toward Friend.

"I hope... I hope the wedding is nice."

Supervillain nodded.

The walk to the exit was considerably lighter than it had been coming in.

***

Villain kicked their heels against the waxed linoleum tile. It had probably been 15 minutes since Supervillain walked back with the guards to deliver the wedding invitation to Friend. It usually took that amount of time alone to be searched, escorted in, searched again, and escorted out. Villain wasn't sure how long Supervillain would spend talking to them, but they guess they probably had at least 5 or 10 minutes longer to wait.

The door to the entrance squealed, and Villain glanced briefly over their shoulder. No sooner had the turned forward they were whirling around again.

"Oh! Hi!"

Friend's Spouse froze mid-step, shoulders hunching like a snarly dog.

"I hoped you might turn up!" Villain continued. "I mean, I knew you came in every Tuesday and Friday, but I wasn't sure if today would be one of those days when you don't come in because sometimes life happens and throws us off schedule. I also didn't know what time you usually visit so--"

"I get it," Friend's Spouse said, holding up one hand to quiet them. They looked around the waiting area a moment before nodding toward the sign-in desk. "Let me guess. Supervillain?"

"They should be done soon."

Friend's Spouse sighed but dropped into the chair next to Villain without too much of a fuss.

Villain fiddled their thumbs. "I never thanked you for what you did. Back at your house or in court. I-"

"I didn't do it for you," Friend's Spouse grumbled.

"I know. But you still did it so...thank you."

Friend's Spouse stared toward the passageway, currently empty except for the two guards at the mouth. "I just needed to stop them before they did something really wrong. And ruined something important to them."

"You're a civilian, right?" Villain said. "You're not..."

"In 'the business'? No. But I'm what you'd call a morally questionable person, so I didn't care what Friend did. Even when it came to death. But their obsession over the two of you...that did need to be stopped. As much for them as for anybody."

For not the first time, the civilian's strength impressed Villain. They didn't know if they would be able to do the same for Supervillain. Hurt them in order to help them. Then again, Villain couldn't really imagine Supervillain doing something so insane. Friend was definitely more volatile, which was saying something when Supervillain had actively held them hostage for over a month.

"Are you guys ok?" Villain said.

"Yes," Friend's Spouse said snappily. "...They're not happy with me, but at least they understand why I did it." They cleared their throat. "How are...you? Still with Supervillain apparently?"

"Yeah, we-- Oh, right!" Villain rummaged through their bag until their fingers glossed over the invitation they'd stowed away in case of this exact meeting. "Here."

Friend's Spouse stared at it for a long time. "You're seriously inviting me?"

"I came to yours."

"I kidnapped you."

"Supervillain kidnapped me; I can let it go the first time, maybe even the second." At the civilian's strange look, they added, "Nothing in villainy is typical."

"I'm pretty sure you're situation is atypical even for other atypicals."

Villain chuckled lightly. Probably true. If someone had told them the night of their almost-execution that the person holding a gun to their head would one day be their fiancee, they would have laughed, rather manically, in their face.

As if on queue, the steady clack of Supervillain's shoes traveled up the hallway, growing louder and louder with each step. Villain burst to their feet before the other villain had even entered view.

“Hey,” Supervillain greeted, passing the double guards and immediately interlocking fingers with Villain. A moment later they noticed their company. “Hey, [Friend’s Spouse]. I think they’re itching to see you.”

Friend’s Spouse forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and rose to their feet.

"Well,” Villain hung to Supervillain’s arm and shot Friend’s Spouse one more what-they-hoped-was-friendly look. “Address is on the invitation if you decide to drop by."

"I'll think about it," Friend's Spouse said, then softer. "Er...thank you."

With that, they made their way to the sign-in desk without a second glance.

***

The wedding had lots of chamomile and no cinnamon. The table of kettles, each set to boil on its own hot plate, filled the room with heady steam, each flavor coming together so the air practically bathed in the sweet, floral aromas.

Supervillain spun Villain under their arm, catching them on their chest before they could fully stumble.

"I thought your last wedding would have put you off from heels," they said, eyes all googly and soft as they tipped their forehead against Villain's.

"Well, you know me. I'm a glutton for punishment." Villain quirked a sly smile and slid their arms up around Supervillain's neck. "But hey, heels saved my life! ...Or was it cinnamon?"

Supervillain swayed them back and forth. "Don't know...but you were adorable."

"You wanted me dead," Villain scoffed. They didn't know when that had become a natural thing to say, but somehow it escaped their lips without eliciting so much as a shiver.

"I could still appreciate your cuteness. Especially when your little nose got all runny and your voice all squeaky and--"

Villain interrupted them with a quick kiss on the mouth.

"I think that's quite enough," they said as they pulled back.

Supervillain stumbled the next dance step, face flushed a bright, pretty pink.

"Aww, your so cuu-"

Supervillain's lips crashed back against their own.

Suddenly Villain couldn't hear the music, or the "ooos" of their guests, all that mattered was the steady pressure of Supervillain's hands on their hips, the soft warmth against their mouth, and the taste of honied chamomile. Their heart pounded so hard they felt dizzy. When Supervillain finally let them breathe again they swayed like a drunk.

Supervillain remained close enough for their breath to tickle their face. "Honey, you may be a villain, but I'm a supervillain. Don't you ever forget that."

Villain's mind had become nothing but blank static, so they nodded dumbly.

Supervillain grinned, something between wicked and smitten. "Want to make a bargain?"

Villain rested their head against Supervillain's pounding heart, letting the beats steady them as they gripped the lapels of their suit coat. “Sounds like our style. Let's hear it."

"Nothing serious, just…that we stay together until we die.”

“I think that was part of our vows,” Villain said with a chuckle. “Til death do us part and all that?”

“It’s different.”

The song came to a close, and Supervillain guided them by the hand back to their table, paying little attention to the of well-wishers that ambushed them along the way. Villain really wasn’t sure how many of the people were really happy for them and how many just wanted on Supervillain’s good side.

“How is it different?” Villain said, breaking them from the uncomfortable scowl before it could fully plaster their face.

“People break those vows all the time. We didn’t break our bargain…”

Villain pushed a lock of hair behind Supervillain’s ear. “And what are the consequences of breaking said bargain?”

“Death.”

Villain’s eyes widened, and Supervillain smirked.

“Not really. …I suppose nothing.”

Villain pondered a moment. “You know, death might not be such a bad idea…” As soon as it left their mouth, they quickly held up both hands. “Not in real life! I meant as pretend! A-and not with threats to each other, but maybe sometimes we could pretend that there’s a bigger threat, and we have to stick together to survive.”

Supervillain nodded slowly. “I like it.” They paused. “We’re weird, aren’t we?”

“Oh, that became clear long ago.”

Supervillain shrugged and picked up their wine glass of deep blackberry tea, lukewarm from neglect by now.

“Married or die?”

Villain grinned, rising their golden glass of chamomile glass in return. They clinked the glasses together as their hands found each other beneath the table.

“Married or die.”

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii i @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee

[patchesnpins]

ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: what would their kisses feel like, are they sweet and soft? or deep and brimmed with hunger. either way you can't get enough of their intoxicating lips against yours (ft. Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers)

☾⋆*:｡ a/n: more soft hcs because I'm in a mood, I just kinda picked out characters at random and wanted to include a few I don't write enough. I'm totally down to do more characters, already have a few in mind

☾⋆*:｡ details: SFW//w.c: 1k//mentions of cigarettes

ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ

He’s such a sappy romantic, sharing glances brim full of love as his bottom lip catches between impatient teeth, chewing lightly at it. Brushed off with a smile he leans in, slow and patient and you can feel the warm bloom across your skin from his breath, quickly turning to electricity when his lips press against yours. His lips are plump, so soft as they work against your own like clockwork. Kissing comes as easily to him as breathing, slotting your mouths together perfectly and kneading his lips against your own. He knows how to knock the breath out of your chest and make your legs turn to jelly, pressing more and more into the kiss like neither of you can get enough. He’s so confident but just melts against you, lost in just how much he loves the taste of you. He loves you so much and he just wants to kiss you till his lips are sore, show you love in the way that he's best because there's too much love in him to put into words

favorite places to kiss you: Steve forever loves classic kisses on the lips, it’s so intimate and sweet and the perfect way to show you just how much he adores you

ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ

Eddie makes it so clear when he wants to kiss you, his eyes won’t look anywhere else but your lips till they’re pressed against his own. His lips are rough but neither of you can care, minds hazy and only focussed on feeling more. He’s so greedy, pressing further and further into the kiss because he needs all of you to sate the desire burning inside his chest. You make him half crazy and you can tell from the passion burning in his kisses, hand cupping your cheek and pulling you closer so he can press his lips firmer against you. He tastes like nicotine and you can't tell if it's the nicotine or the kiss that makes your skin buzz, anticipation fluttering in your stomach because there's always something fun to expect in his kisses. Bites and tugs at your lips, a cheeky use of his tongue or just sweet nothings whispered between kisses. Eddie puts everything he has into kisses, leaving you breathless and hot in the face and he loves it so much 

favorite place to kiss you: Eddie presses endless kisses to your jaw line, each quick and sweet as he maps it out with his lips and sometimes dipping low to make you shiver

ʀᴏʙɪɴ ʙᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʏ

Robin’s kisses are anxious at first, she doesn't even know how to initiate kisses but her lips always end up on yours. Kisses with Robin soon become soft and giggly, noses bumping together and teeth clacking against each other but neither of you care to pull away, just laughing into each other's mouths and shifting to change the angle till it's just right. Just like the way your hand fits so perfectly into her own, your lips fit together like two lost puzzle pieces being reunited. You both rock back and forth, giving and taking like a restless ocean ride as you chase the feelings of each other's lips. Robin can't help but hold onto you, gripping your shirt because the fabric is so soft or your hand tight because every part of your skin is warm. Her lips are rough from her anxious picking but you don't mind because it's such a Robin thing, you can't imagine her lips feeling any different. All those years of dreaming have definitely paid off in comparison to the real thing

favorite place to kiss you: Right on the tip of your nose, Robin can't help but giggle at how your face scrunches up with a smile when she does it

ɴᴀɴᴄʏ ᴡʜᴇᴇʟᴇʀ

Nancy’s kisses are vulnerable, like she has her heart on full display for you and only you. No matter how light and airy or hot and heavy they are, there will always be a sense of sincerity dripping from her lips whenever you kiss her. The way her lips tremble against yours like her veins are filling with adrenaline at the mere feeling of your lips, she dips her head down and drinks you up like the most divine drink she could press to her lips from a golden goblet. Her lips are always soft, sometimes sticky with lip gloss or the taste of sweet fruits from her chapstick that you taste against your own lips for hours after kissing you. She leaves her mark behind without bites or nips, her perfume making your head dizzy but nothing compared to how drunk you could get off her kisses. It's so sweet and you can always feel yourself craving more, pressing into kisses more and she always reciprocates and your heart swells in your chest. Nancy Wheeler has love for one person and with every kiss she solidifies it more 

favorite place to kiss you: Whether she may need to stand on the tips of her toes or lean down, Nancy always leaves a kiss on your forehead 

ᴊᴏɴᴀᴛʜᴀɴ ʙʏᴇʀꜱ

Jonathan is a slow kisser, he treats make out sessions like he has all the time in the world because when you're caught in a bubble with him, it really does feel like you do. He spends hours just feeling the way your lips press against his own as if he's mapping out every little part of your lips. Even if they're just simple kisses, mouths moving slowly against each other's and lost in the feeling of soft skin against each other's, Jonathan loves it more than anything in the world. In the moment, you are his world and he holds you and kisses you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered down. It's sweet and tender, soft gasps for air and the lightest of touches as you both familiarize yourselves over and over again with each other's lips. It's all he ever really wants and you can agree, reveling in his chapped lips and how he follows your lips so perfectly in the kiss. Time has stopped and every worry has washed away when you interlock your lips with him, your chest light with a sweet happiness as you both smile into the kiss

favorite place to kiss you: Jonathan could paint your whole face with kisses but he kisses your cheeks the most, loving the warmth of the blush that follows 

tag list: @workaholicwitch @adamgetawaydriver

[sensei-venus]

Getting steamy w merman!hawk??

(Unedited) (Mer!Hawk, merman/tentacle dick??, Mermaid/Merman Anatomy, Blowjob, Public Sex, Beach Sex.)

“How do we- how do we do this?” Reader blinked as she looked down at Hawk’s lower navel.

The boy was laid out on the soft sand of the beach. His long tail was stretched out on the ground in front of her. His breathtaking purple and blue scales glistened with sea water in the moonlight.

If Hawk wasn't so cocky she would have told him how sappy he looked right now. The whole scene in front of her looked like a chapter from a fantasy book. The way he was looking at her right now only made it even more real. His pretty blue eyes were lust-filled as they peered over at her. Sending filtration filled looks her way the whole night so far.

He wiggled his eyebrow at her before saying “Well you could start by coming over here. Get a better view of what I'm working with.” Reader blushed a little but nodded anyway. She slowly crawled over to the tailed boy before stopping just in front of him. Her eyes taking in all of his beautiful features up close. It felt so new to be this close to him even after the multiple times she sat near him.

For a merman he was built, the slight outline of abs over his tight belly. Nice collar bones and tight pecks. Even his cheekbones were handsome.

“I really enjoy the staring but I think we would both enjoy touching way more.”

“Oh uh yeah your right sorry…” Reader felt completely out of her element at the moment.

“Hey it’s ok, this is new to both of us. I have never been with a human before and I'm pretty sure you have never been with a merman before.”

“You're just saying that because you know that you were the very first merperson I ever meet.” she rolled her eyes at the smirking merman. He seemed to find her embarrassment amusing. If she was being honest she really didn't find it all that funny.

Slowly he reached out and took one of her clenched fists, he was gentle as he got her to relax a little. Hand falling limp he moved it to his abdomen area. Gently he took one of her fingers and let it ghost over a small spot in the middle part of his tail. Her lips fell open in awe as she felt the new area. It wasn't exactly like the rest f his tail.

There was an odd area that didn't feel like his normal scales. It was small and hidden between a tiny patch of his beautiful blue and purple scales. Soft and slightly warm compared to his cold outer tail.

He chewed on his bottom lip to stop from moaning out as he let her stroke the area. It was definitely sensitive by the way he was acting. Her fingers danced over and around the area and it seemed to drive him crazy.

“What's that?”

“It's my slit, it's where my dick is at. I'm guessing humans don't have that?”

He lets go of her hand and let's get do her own thing. She hums as she feels around the hidden slit, she tries her best to be as gentle as possible. Her eyes linger over the spot. She says “No we kinda have all that stuff hanging out I guess?“ he closes his eyes and groans.

His pelvis bucked as her fingers dipped into the now puffy slit. Her eyes wished as her finger tips dipped into the warm wet heat. It was hot and warm against her skin, it made a quiver go up her spine. She could even feel his heart beat.

The sponge-like walls hugged her fingers like a vice. Welcoming her in and encouraging her to explore him more. Wanting her to feel all of him from the inside.

Her fingers went in deeper as Hawk allowed her inside his slit. His eyes rolled and his tail slapped out against the wet sand below. Slowly losing his cool.

Reader almost yanked her fingers out when she felt something get wiggle against her digits. Hawk was quick to grab at her wrist and keep her fingers inside him.

“Was that-”

“Yeah that's my dick, you got me excited. Playing with my slit is the only way to get it out.”

“But it moved!”

“Yeah so?”

It was only a second later when the wiggling against fingers grew more intense. Suddenly Hawk’s “dick” was moving and clutching at her fingers. It moved to hook around the fingers, squeezing and searching for more warmth. Seeking out her touches.

It wasn't long before it was pushing her out of his slit and freely moving around in the cool night air. Reader gasped as his dick finally came free.

Thick long and light pink covered in a thick layer of clear fluids. It dripped down the wiggling length and puddle around his open slit. It moved in the air searching for more attention. Obviously wanting Reader to go back to touch it. Hawk smirked at her expression, clearly happy with her taken-aback look.

“Touch it, I dont bite~”

Reader rolled her eyes at him before taking the chance. She reached out and let the appendage explore her hand. It flicked over her fingers and palms and slowly tried to go up her wrist. Squirming in her had trying to get her to fondle it. Chewing on her lip she tried to softly grip the new toy. The texture was hard but gave a little with a quick pump of her palm.

She watched as it wiggled against her palm seeking her warmth. She blushes a little as she starts to stroke him. She wonders if the warm slick dripping into her palm is pre or natural lubricant. It's sticky but also a bit watery as it starts to slick up her hand. The more she pumps him the more spills from both his tapered tip and hidden slit. Jerking him softly she finds him wetting her palm even more.

Her eyes lock onto his twisted-up face. His brows furrowed and his head threatened to slam back into the sand. Clawing at the sand next to him with his sharp claws. He grunts and groans as he gets closer to his orgasm. His tail twitched and his belly tightened.

“Fuck your really good at this!”

He bites back as he firsts his claws into the sand harder than before. Eyes rolled back into his skull trying to keep himself together. His poor lips are borderline bloody with the way his teeth dig into them. Reader can tell he's trying to keep himself together.

She can't help that her own heartbeat picks up as she watches him slowly melt under her touch. He's falling apart all because of her.

She picks up her pace as she watches his dick start to spasm. The tip weeping that same clear fluid that covered her hand and wrist. It pumped out like a leaking faucet down her hand. It glistened under the moonlight as it started to drip down her arm. It just wouldn't stop.

Watching it flowed down her hand made her mind race and her thighs clench. Wetting her lips she did the only thing her brain was telling her to do at that very moment.

Suck it.

Leaning down she gently licked around the wiggling cock. She licked around the weeping tip and tasted the strange fluid. It almost tasted like nothing, the slight tang of salty water mixed with the only thing that could be named “Hawk” meet her taste buds. It wasn't horrible, if anything the more she tasted it the better it got.

She could almost say it was a bit additive. It wasn't long until the tip started to unwrap itself to seek out her warm mouth. Finding the hot cavern more interesting than her hand.

It prodded at her lips for entry before sliding in with one go. Reader gagged a bit at first with the way it stretched her lips open. She moans as it goes deeper into her mouth and taps at the back of her throat. A few seconds later and it taps her throat and slides in. Gagging she grips at his slim waist in hopes of finding some kind of grounding. But this only makes him moan out and buck harder.

She tries her best to suck around him but his dick does most of the work.

Moving around her mouth and exploring her pretty tongue and throat. Taking the time to poke and prod.

It only takes a few more minutes before his cock vibrates in her mouth and seeks out the very back of her throat one last time. It pushes as far as it can into her tight throat before sputtering. It gives her no other choice but to gulp down his hot load. It sends rope after rope of water-like cum down her throat. Directly into her belly and filling her up all the way.

She tries her best to stay on and swallow as much as she can. It's hot as it spills down her throat. She can feel how it fills her belly, already physically feeling the way her belly starts to bloat from the copious amount of fluid. Her belly feeling tight and full as he finely starts to stop. A few more sports and he wiggles back to life in her mouth.

With a small pop it retreats from her mouth. It gives no time as it slowly retreats back to its now puffy slit. It already looks raw.

She does her best to collect herself, licking her lips of the remaining strange cum. She coughs as she is finally able to breathe again. Her long filled with salty beach air once again. Looking up she finds Hawk boneless on the sand. Fallen completely limp onto the sand.

He's panting and breathing heavily, his chest and cheeks painted a bright pink in the light. His slit is still twitching from the intense orgasm he just had.

For a split second she swears he is about to cover his poor abused slit from the slight breeze.

He looks over to her in a haze, his eyes full of lazy lust. She can't tell but she wonders if his eyes have caught sight if her extended belly, his gaze falling down. She wonders if he is checking out her bloated belly.

She runs a hand over it to feel the slight distention of her new belly. She questions how long it will stay like that. Her belly is full of his warm cum.

“D-definitely didn't see that coming. Sorry about uh how watery it was. It's uhh thicker during the matting season I guess.” he stammers a bit, still trying to collect himself. Their eyes briefly meet.

“So that just means I have to wait till then right? See how thick your load can get for me right?” she smirks at him. His cheeks grow brighter as he slowly nods.

“Yeah, I guess so~”

[rayraygo1267]

Nathalie is in denial, all like "I just have a deep admiration for Gabriel's drive to rescue Emilie, but it's not romantic" and uses formal distance (like calling him "sir") to maintain that.

Meanwhile, Gabriel is over here like "I am head over heels but she only sees me as a friend oh woe is me", using her formal distance as proof that she doesn't love him.

Adrien drops the "mom" word on Nathalie and she goes into an entire crisis, and lands at "good lord I am smitten".

Nathalie tries to test the waters, and foregoes the "sir" once. Gabriel very much notices and mentally screams, but his resting scowl makes Nathalie think "oh no he don't like that"

Nathalie waits a few days, before giving Gabriel her resignation. "What! Why?" "I'll get in the way of the goal." They get into an argument, and it ends with Natalie shouting "Because I'm in love with you!" which shuts Gabriel up real quick. Nathalie's all like "and it conflicts with your goal; I'll only impede you" and Nathalie's rant is stopped by Gabriel's "I'm in love with you, too."

long story short they are very in love. keep doing what you're doing. you're doing the entire gabenath fandom the biggest service. you're amazing

Another Gabenath Fanfiction

Note: I just wanna start off by saying I absolutely love this idea and thank you for the kind words and the suggestion! ❤️❤️ ❤️

Also I want to apologize for how long this took me. This was originally going to be released in full, but I realized the story was becoming a little too lengthy so I decided to release this in chapter increments instead. So there will be more chapters continuing on from this one!

Rated: T

Warnings: minor language

Word Count: 1,624

Title: Admiration in Disguise

Chapter One

“I really am sorry sir,” Nathalie’s voice was hoarse, her chest filled with sappy fluid. Gabriel sat at her bedside, his brows creased in what seemed to be a permanent worried line. 

“Don’t apologize Nathalie,” he murmured, his eyes downcast, “It is I who should be apologizing to you.” 

Nathalie frowned, though she couldn’t find the strength to protest. Their most recent battle against Ladybug and Chat Noir had not been the least bit fruitful. Their plan seemed to misfire at every turn and it was all Nathalie’s doing. If she wasn’t so effortlessly fragile then their chances of defeating the elusive bug and her pesky cat would be much more promising. 

“Here. Drink,” Gabriel held out a glass to Nathalie, pulling her from her thoughts. His grip on the cup was firm, unlike her own, which seemed to only tremble. 

The condensation of the cup felt cool against the tip of her lips, water sprouting on her tongue, though some tiny droplets did manage to slide down her chin. In a moment Gabriel had a cloth ready to capture the excess moisture. Nathalie observed him carefully, as his fingers and the cloth shrouded around the sides of her face.

“Sorry,” she choked out once more. 

Gabriel chuckled, though it held no amount of humor.

“Look at yourself, Nathalie. Look at what I’ve done to you.” 

Nathalie’s expression softened, “Sir—” 

Gabriel raised a hand, qwelling her words, “I’ve been selfish, Nath. Your sickness has only been intensifying and I can’t help but blame myself.” 

Nathalie grimaced, slowly inching herself closer to Gabriel, the duvet the only thing separating  them. Gabriel took Nathalie’s hands in his own, his chest seizing at the feeling of the coolness in her fingers. 

“This isn’t your fault sir. I’m fully aware of the risks I’m taking. You know I want nothing more than to help you,” Nathalie assured, her voice full of sincerity. She squeezed Gabriel’s hands, though her muscles were numb. 

Gabriel stared at her, his blue eyes reflecting into her own, “I appreciate that, but I can’t keep putting you through this. I’m practically killing you.” 

“You’re not—-” as if summoned, her ailment made its presence known, as one of her coughing fits started up again. 

“Nathalie!” Gabriel shrilled, his urgent concern dripping like sap from a tree as he rested his hands upon her shoulders, his fingers pressing into her back. 

After what felt close to a millennium, Nathalie’s coughing spell ceased, though she was left gasping for air. 

“You see Nathalie. This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he murmured gravely, taking a lock of her scarlet red streaks, pushing it neatly behind her ear. Nathalie’s eyes widened at the feeling of Gabriel’s hand on her cheek, his skin akin to a gentle inferno. 

“I promise you that I am perfectly alright sir.” Nathalie breathed, “You can’t let your concern for me distract you from your goal — from Emilie.” 

Gabriel sighed, his expression contorting, “Emilie wouldn’t want you to suffer like this.”

Nathalie huffed, a wave of exasperation igniting in her core, “But what about Adrien sir? He needs his mother—” 

“What Adrien needs is stability. He’s already suffered the burden of losing his mother; we cannot let him lose you too,” Gabriel said, his determination unwavering accompanied by his steely gaze. 

Adrien. 

Just the mere thought of the young boy’s name consumed Nathalie with an unmatched guilt. She would never want to do anything that would cause the boy harm. Nathalie sucked in a breath, her expression solemn. 

“You are his family and this family will always come first,” Gabriel affirmed, dropping two capsules of cough-drop pills into Nathalie’s palm. The pills  seemed to carry a weight to them or perhaps that was just Nathalie’s perception of them compared  to Gabriel’s hand, which felt light and smooth. Gabriel held up the glass of water to Nathalie’s lips again as she swallowed the pills, her eyes closing as she did so. 

“Thank you sir.” 

“No, thank you Nathalie,” Gabriel said earnestly, his hand tucking underneath her chin.

Nathalie observed as Gabriel’s eyes glazed over. He held a look that Nathalie could not put a name to — soft but driven and yet still something hidden underneath. Nathalie could sense how her breathing became thicker, a flutter coiling down into her stomach. 

Gabriel blinked, his focus clearing, “Rest now Nathalie. I’ll have Adrien bring you your dinner.” 

Nathalie couldn’t bring herself to speak, her voice trapped in her throat, “Yes, sir.” 

“Ooh-la-la! Miss Nathalie!”

Nathalie startled, a gasp catching momentarily in her throat as her hand flew to her chest. 

"Duusu!" She scolded, her heart still pulsating from the abrupt scare. 

"Sorry Miss Nathalie!" Duusu singsonged, flying over to hover above her owner’s shoulder.

Nathalie let out a strained chuckled, though it sent a poignant sting revving down her throat. 

“What’s the matter Duusu? Couldn’t find a more creative way to say hello?” Nathalie teased whilst moving to pull her laptop shut. 

Duusu giggled, her voice ringing high like chimes, “What are you working on, Miss Nathalie?” Her curiosity was evident in the way her wide eyes peered inquisitively at the reflection of the computer screen. 

Nathalie’s cheeks flushed with color, a rim of anxiety shooting down her spine. 

“It’s nothing Duusu — just organizing some files.” 

In the next moment, Duusu let out a melodramatic wail, accompanied by vigorous arm flapping. 

“But Miss Nathalie! Mister Gabriel insisted that you rest!” 

Nathalie sighed, realizing that she wasn't going to be able to reason with the little overly persistent kwami, despite the fact that she had been indeed ‘resting’ for she had taken to her work in her bedroom.

“You and I both know how desperately Gabriel needs the miraculous to bring Emilie back and I want nothing more than to help him but… she paused, a wave of dizziness washing over her, a painful reminder of the very thing she was trying so hard to overcome, “my illness is the very thing that is holding him back and I can’t do that, not when his intentions are so pure. I refuse to be his undoing, much less the catalyst in his downfall.” 

Another wail escaped Duusu once more, along with even more intensified arm flailing. 

“But Miss Nathalie! Mister Gabriel doesn’t want you to get sick like Miss Emilie!” 

A tender smile played on Nathalie lips at Duusu’s caring nature, as she extended her cupped hands towards the kwami.

"I'm not Emilie, Duusu. I'm Gabriel's assistant. It's my job to assist him."

"But you're more than that–you’re family! Mister Gabriel said so!" Duusu argued.

"Adrien's family," Nathalie corrected.

Duusu wailed again, "But Mister Gabriel cares about you too!” 

Nathalie huffed, her heartbeat stuttering. She could feel a tiny bead of warmth spread throughout her chest, though that was mostly cloaked by her astonishment at Duusu’s ramifications. 

“I…Well…I am his assistant so I’m sure he cares about me to some extent.” 

Duusu whined, her crests swaying back and forth, “But don’t you care about him too Miss Nathalie?” 

Nathalie’s muscles clenched, that familiar warmth returning to her core, “He’s my boss Duusu so yes, of course I care about him but only in that of a professional capacity.” 

“But—” Duusu started, her entire body convulsing with protest before being abruptly cut off by Nathalie.

“Are you trying to suggest something Duusu?” Nathalie snapped, arms folded. 

She honestly didn't like being this harsh with Duusu, but she didn't like what the kwami was trying to imply either.

"He is my boss and I am his assistant—that is all," Nathalie reiterated with as much conviction as she could.

Duusu stayed silent for a moment, mumbling and buzzing about to herself until she piped up, "But are you sure, Miss Nathalie? I think Mister Gabriel wants to get closer to you. He even told you not to call him 'sir' anymore."

The kwami wasn't wrong. Gabriel had indeed made that request multiple times, and recently he'd urged her to address him by his first name in front of Adrien, which had certainly taken her aback, to say the very least.

Nathalie bit her lip, her hands clanging together, “We’ve known each other for quite some time Duusu but the fact still remains — I am his employee. It would be impolite of me to address him in any other manner."

Duusu giggled, "I don't know Miss Nathalie. I think Mister Gabriel has feelings for you."

Nathalie’s head snapped up, a tingling sense of bewilderment coursing through her veins.

“Enough Duusu!” she hissed sharply. 

Duusu’s laughter halted abruptly, a whimper chiding from her, "I’m sorry Miss Nathalie."

Regret clawed at Nathalie's heart as she watched Duusu sulk away to turn in for the night — her desire to call her back and her desire to hold her ground conflicting. She hadn't meant to hurt Duusu's feelings, but she had to shut the kwami down.

She couldn’t have Duusu going around with such speculations, especially when there was no truth to them. Sure, she cared for the man and did hold quite a deep respect for him, but who wouldn’t? Gabriel’s intentions were beyond the most noble. His ambition and utter devotion to Emilie was remarkable — truly admirable.

Gabriel always put his love for Emilie above all else and Nathalie wished with all her being that she could say the same, for Emilie had once been one of her closest companions. And Gabriel, despite his cold exterior, had a heart of gold — a heart that didn’t deserve the heartbreak it had suffered. 

Nathalie wanted nothing more than to see Gabriel smile again, for his joy evoked something in her, something akin to a euphoric bliss.

Nathalie would ensure Gabriel’s success, even if she died in the process.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope everyone enjoyed this first chapter of Admiration in Disguise! I promise I'll have chapter two out as soon as possible! Also, if anyone has any more Gabenath fanfic ideas please don't hesitate to send them my way!

[hoodharlow]

No Place Like Home

AN: based in my deduction skills the pictures were from the dame night lol. In addition this part 8, hope y'all enjoy this <3

Requested? No

Warnings: smut, angst (a certain sentence was said 👀 and someone freaked out), Jack putting Neelam in her place, brief talk about a bas relationship from high school, brief mention to grooming, and a happy smutty ending

Word count: 6.5k words

When Jack refreshed Instagram he was not expecting to see a picture of his girlfriend almost kissing her co-star, Isabela Gomez, but given the context of the post it made sense. He slid the next picture and it was one of her sitting on Evan Mock’s lap, who played her love interest. He rolled his eyes and saw the last slide was of her hugging Jeremy O’Harris. He scrolled a bit to read her long ass sappy caption. Miriam basically said that her movie finished filming last night and she was forever grateful for being part of the movie. And she thanked Jeremy for trusting her with Audie, her character’s name. She then went on thanking everyone else involved in the  movie and their grandma. 

Jack put his phone away, realizing that maybe he shouldn’t be on his girlfriend's profile in such a public setting where anyone can record him looking at it. He was out having dinner with his friends and brother. It was day three of his No Place Like Home mini tour. Miriam was supposed to fly out in the morning, but her flight was canceled and the closest she was able to get was for tomorrow. 

“Hey, I gotta go do something real quick.” Clay leaned into Jack. 

“We have to be at the venue in an hour,” he told his younger brother. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll meet you there. I’m picking up Monét because I have another errand to run.” he said. 

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’ll thank me later.” Clay clapped his shoulder, getting up from his chair.

Jack watched his brother say goodbye to everyone as he walked out of the restaurant. Urban pulled him into conversation. Half an hour later they all toasted to Jack and his successes. He made a quick speech raising his glass of sparkling cider to them. He motioned the server for the check. He paid and left a generous tip for them. 

The car ride to the venue was less than five minutes. The line outside was barely starting to move, allowing attendees to enter the venue. Security led Jack and his friends through the back. Jack went backstage to where Chris and Neelam were  and checked in while his friends went to his dressing room. After he went to his dressing room.

He spotted his parents and went to greet them. Jack clapped his dad's shoulder, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he was having with a family friend. 

“Hey, ma,” Jack said, wrapping his arms around Maggie. He pulled away and greeted his girlfriend. “Hey, Miriam.”

“Hi,” she said, sipping her drink.

He turned around then turned back to Miriam, to make sure she was actually standing there. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He pulled her back to his arms and gave her an even tighter hug.  He cupped her face and kissed her. “How are you here? I thought your flight was canceled.”

“It was but a seat in economy opened up and I took it.” Miriam said. She pointed to Clay and his girlfriend. “Clay and Monét picked me up.”

“You’re welcome, big brother.” Clay yelled to him. 

Jack flipped him off. He took Miriam’s and beelined to one of the free arm chairs near the door. He sat down and pulled her to his lap. Miriam removed her puffer coat over her legs in case Jack decided to get handsy. 

The pair fell into conversation, ignoring everyone around them. Everyone in the room noticed how they were so caught up in their own little bubble giggling and whispering. Urban even managed to get a few pictures of Jack and Miriam smiling at each other. 

“I’m glad you were able to make it.”  Jack said, running his hand up and down her velour clad thigh.

“Me too.” Miriam smiled, leaning in to kiss him. 

“Jack, you’re on in twenty minutes.” 

Neelam said, entering the dressing room. She paused seeing Miriam sitting on Jack’s lap. “Miriam…you’re here?

She smiled sweetly at the older woman. “Surprise.” 

*

One thing about Miriam is that she got cold easily and hated being outside if she was dressed to be indoors. And yet she found herself in a secluded corner behind some club parking lot with her boyfriend trying to get her naked. 

“Dude, we were at your fucking hotel room. Why didn’t you fuck me then?” she said, straddling his lap. 

After his show, he took her back to the 21C where he was staying to drop off her things. In his hotel suite, she changed out of the aubergine tracksuit she wore on her plane ride to the dress she planned on wearing to his show. It was a black ribbed mini YSL dress. It reached around mid thigh and it had a cut out in the middle of her chest, tastefully showing off some underboob.

“You singing to Rihanna gets me bricked up, Miriam.” Jack said as his hands wandered around to find the zipper.  

Once he found it, he slowly dragged the zipper down, allowing her breasts to spill out when he helped her out of the top part of the dress. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her jaw. “And as Rihanna said it, ‘I want you now, I want you now, oh, woah, oh.’”

She snorted at his failed attempt to get the note in ‘Loveeeee Song.’ “I can’t stand you.” she murmured, unbulking Jack’s belt and unbuttoning his pants.

Jack slipped one of his hands in between her thighs. “Really? ‘Cause I haven’t even touched your pussy and your shit’s leaking.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled before grabbing his face.

They urgently kissed as Jack struggled to get his pants down. Miriam broke their kiss and awkwardly got off his lap, so he could remove his clothes. He lifted his hips and dragged his pants and boxer-briefs down. He pulled Miriam back to his lap. They resumed their kissing, hips rubbing against each other as their desperation grew. 

He ran his thumb on her sensitive nipples. Miriam leaned back, giving him better access, and quietly moaned out as he gently nipped under her breasts. Both of his hands were on her nipples, twisting and rubbing them. His tongue traced the pert peaks. 

“Jack, I'll let you motorboat me later. Right now I need your dick in me.” Miriam whined. 

“I’ma hold you to that.” he murmured before nipping her breasts one last time. 

They kissed once more before Jack lifted the front part of her dress’s skirt and pulled her thong to the side. She bit into his shoulder as Jack coated himself with her arousal before lowering her down his length. They moaned out in pleasure, not realizing how they needed their bodies connected. He placed her arms around his shoulders. He gripped her hips, controlled her hips at the pace he wanted her. 

Their breathy moans and whimpers filled Jack’s car along with the sounds of their bodies meeting each other. Miriam reached down his seat, patting around until she found the lever that laid Jack’s seat down. 

“Needed more room.” she murmured, splaying her hands on his chest. 

“‘M not– fuck, just like that Miriam.” he cursed. 

Jack gripped Miriam’s thighs, watching how she lost herself trying to get off. He was mesmerized by her. She wasn’t like other women he's been with. Most of them would let him do all the work and didn’t put in any effort. With Miriam it was equal. They both wanted the other to get off as badly they wanted themselves to. Their bodies moved in sync because they were made solely for one another. 

After a few minutes, Jack’s hands wandered away from her hips. He lazily made figure eights on her clit with his thumb while his other hand held the back of Miriam’s head as they kissed. She pushed herself against his chest and quickened the pace she rode him. She dug her nails into his biceps as her climax neared. 

“Ja–”

"I love you, Miriam." 

She visibly recoiled hearing that three worded sentence. She pushed herself off his lap. 

"You're joking right?" She laughed awkwardly, getting dressed. "Jack, we’re having sex. You don't know what you're saying." 

"Are you fucking serious?" he scoffed in disbelief.

“Are you?” she snapped. “You can’t just say shit like.” 

“That shit are my fucking feelings towards you, Miriam.” he retorted. He shook his head. “I expected you not to say it back. But you have no right to make me feel like shit.”

“You can’t.” She said, quietly.

“I can’t, what?” 

“Love me! Get it through your head! You can’t!” she cried. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I can’t do this.”

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Jack cursed and quickly got dressed, not realizing he was pantless until he almost ran after her. He entered the club, scanning the place as he went to the VIP section. 

He spotted Miriam with some of his female friends from high school by the bar. A bartender went up to them and slid a row of shots. They cheered and down them in one gulp. He went under the velvet rope to go up to them. 

“Jack,” Neelam called him over.

“Neelam, not now,” he said. 

“You have to greet some people c’mon.” she said, pulling his arm.

An hour later, Jack lost track of Miriam. Neelam kept making him greet people from club promoters to some potential record executives. 

“Have you seen Miriam?” He asked Diana, a friend from high school, once he made his final round of greetings. She was in the group Miriam was with. 

“No, last time I saw her she was talking to Clay because she couldn’t get in the VIP section.” she shrugged. 

“Thanks,” he nodded. 

He watched as Diana and her girlfriend made their way to the dancefloor where the other girls were. The safest bet was to call Miriam. He reached down for his pants pockets and cursed when he only felt his wallet. He checked his jacket pockets and came up empty. Then he remembered Miriam was using his phone to record herself singing to Rihanna. 

He surveyed the club, until he saw the back of Neelam’s head. He decided to go and ask her if she’d seen Miriam. She was surrounded by a bunch of influencers laughing at whatever she was telling them.

“I know I should feel bad for telling security to not let her in, but I don’t. You all saw how drunk she got.” Neelam said, tossing back a shot. “I guess the princess can’t hold her alcohol.” 

Jack frowned, wondering who she could be talking about. He’d never seen Neelam talk about someone with such bitterness. Like just talking about them, left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Did you see how she was following Jack’s friends? It was sad. She looked like a lost puppy.” some redhead with braids, but shouldn’t be wearing braids said. 

Neelam nodded in agreement. “Which is why I had to make sure Jack was as far as possible from her. She holds him back from doing any work because he’s so focused on making sure she’s okay.” 

"How long have they been together?" Another influencer asked. 

"Surprisingly a few months. I thought they were only going to last at most a month. But I'm pretty sure Jack is only taking advantage of her daddy's money. Why else would he be with her?"

She was talking about Miriam. Jack felt his stomach drop. She didn't deserve to be talked about like she's an entitled brat when she'd the complete opposite of that. Even more so hearing it from someone he thought of as family. Miriam has never done anything to Neelam that he knows of, and if something happened, he would have found out and sorted it out. 

Jack sighed. He needed a minute to cool off before confronting Neelam. He made a beeline to a small room when he was stopped by his younger brother.

"Dude, I've been calling your ass for the past hour!" Clay yelled at him.

"I forgot it in my car. Have you seen Miriam?" He asked his little brother, hoping he knew where she'd wandered off to. 

"I took her home. I lost her when I went to look for you because she said she was taken off the VIP list. Then Monét and I found her outside crying. Mom was pissed when she saw us bring her home without you. But Miriam, in her drunk state, was able to convince her that she was just tired and wanted to get some rest and that you asked me to bring her home because you were busy. So expect a lecture tomorrow." 

"Thanks man. I owe you." Jack said, handing him a hundred dollar bill. "For your troubles."

"Keep it," Clay said, pushing his hand away. “Monét and I are going to dance for a bit before we head back home.” 

“Okay, let me know when you leave.” 

Jack and Clay fist bumped then went in opposite directions. His eyes met Urban's and he motioned him to follow him. Urban leaned over to the girl that was on all fours shaking ass and let her know that he’ll be right back. He sauntered over to Jack and they made their way to a coat closet. 

“If you’re looking for Miriam, Clay told me that he was taking her back to your parents’ place.” Urban said, lighting up a blunt.

“I know, he just told me.” Jack said. He leaned back into a small table and cracked his knuckles. “I’m gonna ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Shoot.” his best friend said taking a hit.

“Have you heard Neelam talk shit about Miriam?” he asked.

“Did Miriam finally tell you what happened in Portland? I’m surprised it took her so long to say something.” Urban said, relieved.

Jack frowned, “What happened in Portland?”

“Shit,” he mumbled, “your girl made me pinky promise, but since you already know…so we were in your dressing room before you went on stage, getting my stuff when Neelam went off on her in front of Metta and that one chick you used to fuck. All for a slice of pizza. Miriam didn’t say shit, she just took money out and left it on the table but I gave it back to her.” he got quiet for a few seconds then pointed at Jack remembering another thing, “I also think something happened at Rolling Loud, but I’m not too sure.” 

"Jack, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be outside mingling." Neelam said walking in the coat closet.

Urban gave Jack a knowing look and walked out.

"Why did you remove Miriam from the VIP list?" Jack asked Neelam. 

"Is that what she told you?" She scoffed. "She probably–"

"I heard you tell your little group of friends."

"You must've heard me wrong."

"Neelam don't lie to me. I also know about the incident that happened in Portland, so save yourself the embarrassment.” 

Neelam was quiet, unsure what to say. She’d been caught red handed. 

Jack sighed defeatedly, “Why'd you do all that Neelam?” 

“I had to! You didn’t know where your priorities were.”

“Are you fucking serious? I know where they are. I’ve been busting my ass doing everything you sign me up for so don't tell me that I’m not doing what I’m supposed to. If you can’t let me have a personal life outside of music, I'll have Chris find someone who does." 

"Are you seriously threatening to fire me? Over some girl?" Neelam frowned.

"Miriam isn't some girl, she's my girlfriend." Jack snapped. "You don't have to like her but you should at least respect her." 

After a few moments of silence, Jack shook his head and walked out of the coat closet and made his way to his car. He got in and grabbed his phone from the cup holder. It was one in the morning. It was too late for him to go over to his parents’ house to check in on Miriam. So he headed back to the hotel, but he sent his brother and Urban a text before he drove off. 

Back at his hotel room he laid awake trying to wrap it around his head why Miriam freaked out. He got that it could have been too soon for him to say it, but it kinda slipped out. Though he didn’t regret it because he truly did love her. As cheesy as it sounded when he pictured himself settling down years down the road with her. He sighed, rolling to his stomach, and let sleep take over. 

*

The following morning, he woke up early and drove to his parents’ house. He stopped by Starbucks and got Miriam an iced creme brulee latte because she swore up and down that it tasted like Christmas. He quietly slipped inside the house and followed his mom and Miriam’s laughter, leading him to the kitchen. Miriam sat on the counter, freshly showered in leggings and a cream colored henley top. When she visited with him for the Fourth of July, she went shopping, but couldn't fit any of the stuff she bought in her luggage so Jack emptied out a drawer for her to store her things. As well as some room in his closet. 

His mom was the first to notice his presence.  

“Hi honey,” she said, turning her back to him to flip some pancakes. “You hungry?” 

“Hey, mom.” he said, placing Miriam’s drink in front of her. “And no, I’m good.”

Maggie gave him a look and set a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Eat up.”

Jack knew better than to argue with his mom, so he took the pancakes. He quietly ate as his mom and Miriam cleaned up the kitchen. At some point his mom went upstairs to get ready for work, leaving the couple. When he finished eating, he washed his plate. He awkwardly leaned against the counter while Miriam was on her phone, ignoring him. 

“Okay, I’m going to head out. I trust that you’re going to behave?” Maggie said, arching her eyebrow at Jack.

“It’s me mom.” he gestured to himself.

“My point exactly.” she said. She waved to Miriam, “bye darling.”

“Bye Mrs. Harlow.” Miriam said, looking up from her phone.

Maggie gave Jack a knowing look before she left them. 

The house was silent, save for the heater’s quiet hums. Jack drummed his fingers against the marble counter waiting for Miriam to say something. Her eyebrows were furrowed together concentrated on her phone. She was probably playing candy crush, stuck on an easy level that really wasn’t easy. Without looking away she reached for her drink and took a long sip.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Portland?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Miriam choked on her drink and grumbled something under her breath, going back to her phone. 

“Miriam trying to fucking talk to you.” he said irritably after a few minutes.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” she snapped.

“You always do this, you know. You fucking shut down and I’m the one that has to reach out.” 

“I can’t do this.” she sighed. 

“Of course you can’t.” he muttered under his breath. 

Miriam sighed and went back to his bedroom. She knew she was acting irrationally, but she just couldn’t deal with Jack. Hearing Jack say that brought back memories of that night with him and she thought she had that suppressed. 

Her whole body got tense. Her heartbeat was practically beating out of her chest. Her palms felt sweaty and clammy. She felt nauseous, Maggie’s delicious cranberry pancakes were coming back up. She rushed to the bathroom down the hall and dropped to her knees, vomiting everything she ate. She felt Jack’s hand wrap around her damp curls before she leaned forward and threw up again. He rubbed her back as she let out a choked sob. 

“I’m so sorry.” she blubbered. “I…I…”

“It’s okay,” Jack said softly, continuing to rub her back. 

After a few minutes, Miriam flushed the toilet. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sat back, leaning against the small cabinet to catch her breath. She stood up and cleaned herself up, brushing her teeth once more. She inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath. 

“You okay?” Jack asked her.

“Yeah, I just had a panic attack.” she shrugged him off. “I just need to get out of the bathroom.”

“Do you want to go outside?” 

“No,” she shook her head, “can we go to your room?”

Jack nodded. He led her to his room. His bed was freshly made and her things from the night before were neatly folded on his desk. Miriam took a seat on the edge of his bed, pulling the sleeves of her top over hands and hugged her knees. Jack sat across from her in his desk chair. 

“I’m sorry for how I reacted.” Miriam mumbled. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have made you feel bad for saying that…I, um…just had a bad experience with it.” She took a deep breath. “Towards the end of my freshman year this junior started talking to me– we were in the same AP Calc class but no one talked to me because I was a freshman in a class full of seniors and a handful of juniors. But um yeah he started talking to me and I started to really like him. Kat told me to stay away from him and how he’s bad news. But I didn't listen, obviously. He asked me to the homecoming dance but I couldn’t go because I had a soccer tournament, but I was able to go for the winter formal. 

I was excited since it was my first dance, but we didn’t make it one hour into the dance. He convinced me to go to some afterparty in Malibu with his football friends. One thing led to another and we had sex in one of the guest rooms. Thinking back, it was a shitty time, but in the moment I felt like I was in the movies. It felt perfect and after that we were cuddling. It felt like the most perfect moment of my life so I said it. He kinda shrugged it off and mumbled ‘yeah me too.’ Then he took me home.

I didn’t talk to him all winter break. Which I reasoned was because my family was in Aspen and his family doing whatever they did. But when school started again, he avoided me until AP Stats. And in front of the whole class he…he said that…”

She blubbered. “He said that he only started talking to me was because Kat rejected him and that fucking me is the closest he’d get to be with her.” 

She buried her face into her knees and wept. Jack, not sure what to do, got up from his chair and sat next to her. He rubbed her back but pulled away as she climbed onto his lap and wrapped her arms around him. 

Jack held her in his arms. He was pissed at the guy. Miriam doesn’t deserve that. He couldn’t imagine how she must’ve felt. He thought back to that night when she lashed out on him for what her sister sent him. ‘You’re just like everyone else. The lengths they go through to get with my sister.’ she had to have been talking about the guy. 

“What’s his name?” Jack asked angrily once Miriam’s cries subsided. 

“Conner Jennings, he was supposed to play at USC but they did drug tests and lost his spot.” she said, gently pushing Jack on his back so she could lay on him. She wiped her mocos then laid on his side. “His dad got sued for medical malpractice because he was the one administering his tests.” 

“Shit.” he mumbled. 

He rolled onto his side so he was facing Miriam. He gently caressed her cheek. “I just want you to know that when I said it, I truly meant it. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you know that’s how I feel about you. But I get it if you don’t want me to say it. I want you to be comfortable with me and–”

“No, if you really feel that, I’m not here to stop you from saying it. Just be patient with me. I really do like you and our relationship does mean a lot to me. I just don’t think I’m anywhere close to saying it. I’ve been in some not so great relationships, like there was a time where I accidentally broke up my professor’s marriage.”

“You what?”

“Yeah, but that’s a story for another day, the Conner stuff was a lot to share. My therapist is gonna have fun dissecting this with me after New Years.” she said nonchalantly while playing the cuff of his hoodie. “Anyways, I want you to know that I’m really grateful to have you in my life and I think you’re the best.”

Jack’s cheeks flushed. He lifted his head and leaned forward to give her a quick peck. He pulled Miriam to his chest. They laid in silence, basking in each other's presence.

“You know what I just realized.” Miriam said after a few minutes passed.

“What?” Jack hummed. 

“We never had an actual date.”

“We haven’t?” he asked. “What about when we...wait, that was a group thing. There’s also...that was also a group hang out...damn how have we not gone on a date?”

“We’ve been working?” she shrugged. 

“When do you fly to Aspen?” 

“Tuesday morning, my dad is sending the jet to make sure I get there soon so that our flight crew can make it home to their families.” 

“Okay, I’m taking you out before you go.” 

“Are you finally taking me to Vincello's?” 

Jack’s eyes widened. “VINCELLO’S?! Put some respect on Vincenzo’s.”

*

Saturday marked the last day Jack had his concerts, leaving Sunday and Monday free for the couple to do whatever before Miriam flew out to Aspen. They spent Sunday morning and afternoon with Jack's family and had very delicious dinner with them as well. They were going to go out, but Maggie insisted that Miriam deserved at least one home cooked dinner. After that they headed back to the hotel to get ready for the drive-in theater Jack had rented out for them and his friends to watch the latest Spider-Man movie. 

"We have an hour before we have to be at the drive-in, can I show you something real quick?" Jack asked Miriam as he held the door open for her. 

"Only if we stop for ice cream first." 

"Miriam, it's the fucking middle of December."

"Which means the ice cream won't melt if we leave it in the car." She reasoned. 

Jack rolled his eyes and drove into Main Street. He parked along the sidewalk and quickly got out of the car going towards the ice cream parlor while Miriam stayed behind. He came back five minutes later carrying a plastic bag and a milkshake. 

“Got you that damn creme brulee cheesecake too.” he muttered, handing her the bag. 

“Thanks,” she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He gripped her headrest as he looked behind him and effortlessly back out of the spot. He rested his hand on Miriam’s thigh while he drove them to an undisclosed location. Fifteen minutes later, they pull up to a gated community. Jack pressed a code and the large gate opened. 

The neighborhood reminded Miriam of the one where her parents lived and also the first time Jack dropped her off when she was rideless at Nobu. There were two rows of various gates and fences with no end. They passed four fences when Jack finally pulled up to a house. He got out and used a key to unlock the gate. 

“Who’s place is it?” Miriam asked when Jack pulled into the front of the house. “I don’t think my quarter whiteness is gonna save my ass if we get caught trespassing…or is it breaking and entering?” 

“We’re gonna be fine. I kinda bought the place.” He waved her off as he held the door open for her. He led her up to the steps and unlocked the front door. “I need a rich person’s opinion first.” 

“I’m not rich, my parents are.” she said, following him inside. 

“That’s what rich kids say” he deadpanned as he turned on the heater.

He reached for her hand and gave her a tour. The house was huge, almost as big as her parents’ house. In the bottom floor there was a large bedroom (with two walk-in closets, large waterfall shower and jacuzzi in the bathroom), two open areas that can be the dining room and the sitting room, a room the size of a small home office, the kitchen with a walk-in pantry, and a large space for the living room. Meanwhile upstairs there were two bedrooms with bathrooms, and one without, but there was another room connected to a small bathroom. It was also furnished with the basics, but there weren’t any decorations that made the house a home. 

“So what do we think?” he asked when they made their way back to the kitchen. 

“It’s not my taste but, like, it's cute.” she said with a forced smile. 

“It’s aight, I’m thinking of getting everything covered in suede though.” he went on.

He wasn't, he planned on remodeling the whole place. He even had a room for Miriam’s clothes for when she came over and visited. He knew that she wouldn't move in with him, especially so soon. He just wanted to have a space for her to feel comfortable and for her things to be kept safe

"I don't know. A suede kitchen seems kinda like a safety hazard and in the bathrooms it's gonna ruin them." She pushed herself up on the counter kicking her feet up. "Personally I like suede covering my feet. Preferably some Manolo Blahnik over the knee boots."

Jack shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "You're not subtle."

"About?" She asked, innocently.

"You know damn well what." 

He placed his hands on her knees and slowly spread her legs open. Jack took a step in between them and caged Miriam in with his arms. He then bent down and kissed her. He felt Miriam’s arms circle around his shoulders, keeping him in place, as their kiss deepened. 

Miriam pulled away and unbuttoned the sherpa lined flannel jacket she 'borrowed' from Jack. She placed it on the counter and laid on it. Jack took the hint and followed suit, removing his hoodie. They haven't had sex since the incident in his car. The most they've done were chaste kisses before Jack went on stage to perform. They've been holding out mostly because Jack didn't seem like he was rushing Miriam into having sex. He wanted her to feel safe and comfortable with him, so he was going to take his time with her. 

"Bet right now you wished the countertop was suede and not granite." He said, climbing on top of her. 

"It's not granite." She said, running her hand against the countertop. "I originally thought it was quartz, but it's marble. Mira there's a few cracks.”

“You’re such a fucking nerd.” he smiled, clmibing over. 

“I didn’t know my extensive knowledge of countertops turned you on.” Miriam looked down at the tent in his grey sweats. 

“More than you’ll ever know.”

Jack cupped her face and kissed her. Within seconds their kiss got heated. He sat back and pulled off his shirt whilst Miriam did the same and also took off her bra and jeans. He gently pushed back on the flannel and got on top of her, resuming their makeout session. Miriam opened up her legs more so Jack could fit more comfortably. 

“I can’t do this.” Jack murmured. 

“Oh.” Miriam said quietly. She reached for her bra and top to cover herself. “I thought you wanted to…”

“I do!” he said a little too excitedly. He cleared his throat. “Why do it on the counter, when we have a whole– wait right here.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, Jack grabbed his hoodie and ran outside. A minute or so later, he came back with the blankets they were going to use in the trunk of his car so that they could stay warm and comfortable while they watched the movie. He set them down on the sectional couch and placed a large comforter on top of the dark blue shag rug in front of it. He then placed Miriam’s giant tiger blanket on top of it. Lastly, he turned on the chimney with some of the complimentary firewood he got when he got his keys. 

“Is this okay?” Jack asked when finished setting up.

Miriam nodded. “It’s perfect.” 

She hopped off the counter and joined him in the living room. They next to each other, both in just their underwear and nervous as fuck to make a move. Jack took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze before kissing her knuckles.

“I love you, Miriam,” He said.

“Te quiero mucho, Jack.” she said in response. “It’s the Spanish version, kind of, like, saying, but not really.”

“I know and I do too.” 

Miriam climbed on top of his lap and grabbed his face, bringing it up to kiss him. Instantly, Jack rolled them over so that he was on top. He sat back and shrugged off his hoodie and shirt. He then kicked off his sweats and got on top of her once more, capturing her lips with his. He felt her arms pull him closer to her as they kissed. He used his other hand to pull one of her legs over his waist as he deepened their kiss. Miriam pulled away to catch her breath, giving Jack access to her neck. She whimpered his name when she felt his teeth gently biting her.

Having enough of him on her neck, she pulled him back to her lips. She loosened the grip around his waist and used her thighs to grind into him. Jack groaned in pleasure. What felt like an eternity later, Jack pulled away and kissed down her body. He pulled away from her lips and kissed down to her chest. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the lovebites on her chest, he captured her lips once more. Miriam desperately needed him inside of her. She yearned to have him inside of her. 

“Jack.” she said breathlessly. “I need you.”

“On it.” he murmured, making her giggled as he saluted her.

He rolled off her and pushed down his boxers. He knelt in front of her and slowly dragged her panties down. He took her in for a second. He was in awe of her. He couldn’t believe he had the privilege to see her like this. 

“You’re so beautiful, Miriam.” he said as he climbed over her. He kissed her shoulder. “You have no idea how much power you hold over me.”

Jack guided his cock over her core, rubbing it with her arousal. Miriam whimpered, quietly begging him to do something other than tease her. With one swift movement he entered her. They both sighed in pleasure. 

“You fit me around me so perfectly, like I’m the only one meant for you.” he murmured into her neck. 

“Jack please.” Miriam begged him. He did a few shallow thrusts, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in so she could get used to the stretch. She felt so good around him. After a few minutes he picked up the pace and her moans filled the bedroom. 

He tilted her head up so he could kiss her. He stopped his movements, saving her lips on his. He wrapped one of her legs around him, bringing them closer as he took her. Her breath hitched at how good it felt. Jack must have noticed, and continued thrusting in that spot. The familiar feeling came over her once more. Miriam was about to come, and Jack knew it. His thrusts got more precise, hitting where she needed him.

“I’m yours for as long as you want me, Miriam,” he said, pulling out of her then thrusting back in her. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I love you, Miriam. You know that right” 

Tears rolled down her cheeks before she choked on a sob. “I know.” She barely managed to say. “I…I love you, Jack.”

*

Ater two more rounds, Jack and Miriam laid in each other's arms watching the chimney. 

"I have a confession to make." Jack said, breaking their comfortable silence.

Miriam stiffened. Her heart began to beat quickly and she felt a bit nauseous. Oh no no no no, this can't be happening again. They had just had sex. She told him she loved him. She couldn't relive what happened sophomore year of high school. 

"That kinda sounded ominous, didn't it?" He commented, noticing how distant she got. 

"A little." She chuckled nervously. She sat up and covered her chest with the large blanket they were sharing. 

"My fault." He said, sitting up. He cleared his throat and met her gaze. "I kinda knew who you were when you rolled the stairs at the Chelsea game."

"What do you mean?" she furrowed her eyebrows. 

Miriam remembered the first time they met and how embarrassed she was when she missed the last step and fell, and did not roll down the stairs like Jack claimed. She had probably seen him on her twitter timeline a few times, but she never registered that he was that guy. 

"I've been following your dad on IG since I was in high school. Every three posts are about you and something you do. And I sorta developed an online crush on you." 

"Oh god!" Miriam grimaced. "My dad was literally a Facebook mom when it came to posting about me or my siblings. That’s why my mom hired someone to make his posts.”

“I know he used to make those collages with like eight pictures and a picture in the middle.”  he grinned. 

“Now he uses all ten slides on instagram to talk about us.” she sighed. She was quiet for a few seconds and placed her head on his shoulder. “How come you never followed me?”

“Knowing you, you would have blocked me.” he said bluntly, earning a snort. 

“True, I would have been like ‘ew, why is this dude from Kentucky asking to follow me? Blocked.’” she said. 

“You would have blocked me?” Jack gasped, feigning offense.

“Yes, you were some white guy from Kentucky. What did you expect?”

“Not getting blocked.”

“Well good thing that didn’t happen or else I wouldn’t be doing this…” she trailed off. She draped the blanket over her shoulders and kissed down his body, making her way down to his cock. She stroked him a few times then slipped him in her mouth. 

Jack slid his hand in the blanket, patting around until he found her hair. “You’re unbelievable. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Not requested to follow me when my dad would post about me.”

Taglist: @cherryxcreme @youngharleezyxo @deannaard @meyocoko​ @babyharleezy @whywontyoulovemecami

ty for reading :)

[lemon-wedges]

Heey just wanted to tell you that I adore your art, especially the way you draw Barok. You humanised him in a way I've never seen an artist do. All your characters, but especially him, look like real, soft, approachable people. I can almost see their chests expanding, I can imagine them laughing and breathing, I can tell how in love your ships are, which is very special and very rare

Your art makes me extremely emotional

(also where did you study, what books did u read, how long did it take you to learn to draw like that??)

AH thank you for the sweet ask! it really made my day to hear this TTuTT

As for your other asks, ill put them undercut with some photos and links to stuff!!

I've been drawing for about ahhhh 16 years( 8 of which are actually like serious school stuff than just a hobby) but tbh its only really been in the last 3 where i feel like ive been making actual progress in improving my stuff. but thats my personal path in art and its always gonna be different for you or anyone else.

anyways 3 years ago i made some changes to my drawing habits and study methods that were like. real specific to where i wanted my art to go (cleaner lines, better foundations, gesture, etc etc). I worked on thing one at a time tho!! it can get overwhelming real quick if youre not careful. So the stuff im gonna give you is geared towards....well, me? both in content im searching for and just the classes that resonate how i like learning

OK BOOKS:

CLEANER LINES. I use to have a habit of making like EXTREMELY sketchy and unconfident lines. This is a landscape book that i literally just copied every single thumbnail. Helped me get into the habit of both using only a few strokes to get an idea across and breaking down complicated subjects into shapes

ANATOMY. Morpho series. Its not a how-to-book tho its just a compilation of an artists break downs. This one is my fav tho. And helped a lot when i was struggling to understand like ALL BODY PARTS

CLOTHING. This is probably my fav clothing book. Very short and published in the 1940s. Its helpful specifically to ME cause its clothing is closer to TGAA outfits(mens) than more modern books LOL

And now CLASSES. I do actually have an art degree from a university and let me tell you. I was left SEVERELY lacking any skills i needed to go into the industry I was interested in 👍 (not cause of the professors but cause the school itself was actively killing its art department :p) So i was kinda just left looking into online stuff on my own (AND COMMUNITY COLLEGE!!!! MY BELOVED AFFORABLE CLASSES )

NEW MASTERS ACADEMY. Its a subscription-have access to all the videos for a month to a year- kind of thing. cheapest is about $40 a month. REALLY REALLY helped my anatomy and foundations. Steve Huston: Good for entire step by step anatomy break downs. Micheal Mattesi & Karl Gnass: Gesture. I've watched a handful of other videos but these instructors were the most helpful to me

DRAWING AMERICA. A lot more pricey. Around $100-$300. but youre basically paying to own the recorded classes and keep them forever. I've only really taken Will Westons classes cause he focuses on BGS and props. But he also has some nice composition stuff thrown in there too.

(I've taken a LOT of online courses and the thing about a majority of them is that they arent really taught by professors or teachers so they tend to be more like a giant Tip video than an actual lesson plan. And if u haven't taken an art class before the difference is HUGE)

and i think thats it? i guess if theres anything else i can give u its this tip:

you mentioned my art is humanizing. Thats a comment ive heard a few times and i guess its odd to say but i dont really know what youre seeing? Like i understand the "ships in love" but cause i did go out of my way to draw sappy love faces 10 bajillion times until i was satisfied. But alive? hmmmmmm like THINK i might know what you may be responding to. Its a combo of the gesture and my effort in trying not to loose the energy of the original sketch when i go to clean it up. And what ive figured out is this. Youre not outlining or tracing your under sketch youre REDRAWING it .

i put the under sketch and clean up next to each other so hopefully this makes sense but like. when i do an under sketch im only really focused on building the figure. When u build a figure youre drawing out bigger shapes and breaking them down into smaller and smaller ones. Lines feel like they have more energy at this stage because the circles and cylinders are fully drawn out, making them have a continuous momentum. So then when it comes to the clean up stage. im not looking to trace the exact lines i drew out (if u notice my final isnt a 1 to 1 copy of the og) im trying to follow the flow of the original lines. thats why youll see lines go thru the figure sometimes, its me trying to keep the energy in that line even if its not suppose to be very long.

idk if this makes any sense at all.....and maybe i should have recorded me actually drawing this out but [shrug emoji] i could do it later if anyone is interesting in wtf is happening here. CAUSE I SWEAR ever since i started cleaning my sketches like this i started to get those comments. but also i could be wrong too.....then i REALLY dont know what im doing ahahahah

Anyways, i hope something in here ends up helping you anon!!! GOOD LUCK ARTING I BELIEVE IN YOU :O

[staticwritesnever]

enchanted: a series (pt. 2)

“the lingering question kept me up 2 am ‘who do you love?’ i wondered too im wide awake”

- enchanted, taylor swift

quackity imagines

warnings: swearing, use of quackitys real name

a/n: yes i should be doing work, but will i? no.

traveling is exhausting, so you and alex decided to keep the next day chill, by taking him to run some errands at one of america's most important institutions: costco.

you woke up WAY before alex did,, it makes no sense

the time difference between mexico and california is not even that bad, alex is just a sleepy bum

when he finally does wake up, you grab a quick snack/mini lunch from a mcdonald’s drive thru

“remember when you tried mcdonald’s for the first time? you were like a teenager and you swore you would never eat mcdonald’s again in your life?”

“yeah?”

“how’s that going for you?”

after scarfing down the crispy fries and the not-really-chicken chicken nuggets, you drive down to costco and while out your costco card like a badass

“you know they have costco in mexico right?”

“… no i did not.”

you have your grocery list in one hand and are pushing the cart in through the packed warehouse with alex fearfully following behind

“why is it so packed in here?”

“it’s america. everywhere is packed.”

alex actually doesn’t appreciate the random strangers poking him and pushing him around, frequently complaining about it

so, to solve it, you give him the cart

which for some reason instills this weird power in him that makes the crowds part like the Red Sea

now alex is starting to have some fun

you guys buy a shit ton of snacks (that you absolutely DO NOT need)

load up on drinks aka caprisuns

and practically fill your empty bellies with the free samples being given out

alex likes to lift his feet off the ground and let the cart roll forward whenever you guys happen to stumble upon an empty aisle

he almost crashes like every single time and every single time, you laugh your ass off

“please don’t ride the carts, it’s not safe.”

y’all literally get SCOLDED by an employee once alex bumps into a crate of snapple juices

“ALEX. THEYRE GOING TO TAKE AWAY MY COSTCO CARD BECAUSE OF YOU.”

“i mean… is that really the worst thing in the world?”

“alex you don’t understand… costco is the holy land. it is the one institution keeping this country afloat. and you haven’t even had the pizza yet.”

you wander into the books section, where you find piles and piles ranging from sappy-gross-walmart-romances-with-half-naked-people-on-the-covers to booktok sensations

as you read through the synopsis of two books, debating which one to add to your never ending TBR pile back home, alex finds the giant display of flower bouquets

he takes his time sniffing them, analyzing each color, and feeling the petals to make sure they’re real and not plastic

a lot of the bouquets had already been taken and the leftovers consisted of broken stems, some wilted petals and empty spaces where it appeared that certain flowers had been taken

there was one bouquet that stood out to alex

small but pretty; a bunch of red-tipped yellow roses that, unbeknownst to alex, symbolized friendship and falling in love something he would learn a lot about during his trip here

he picked out the bouquet as you picked out a winner from your book debate

he presented them to you

“as a thank you for introducing me to the heart of corporate america.”

“you’re so sweet, i might cry and bottle the tears to sell for profit.”

you laughed as you walked to a register to pay

“ok now, if you think this pizza is bad, then our friendship is effectively ruined and you’ll be sleeping on the street the rest of the time you’re here.”

“WHY IS THIS SLICE SO FUCKING HUGE?”

“… america…”

the two of you sat in one of the small picnic table in the designated food court area at the entrance of the costco

alex was trying the pizza

“actually it’s not bad.”

“i’ll take that as a win.”

you guys laugh and talk so much while you eat, it takes you an hour to finish a single slice

once you finish your pizza, you continue talking on your way to your car and won’t shut up to even take a breath

childhood memories, favorite songs, movies, shows, books, trauma, food

the different topics are a rollercoaster of emotions, some more difficult to discuss than others, but for some reason, with alex, even the hardest of stories is easy to tell when he’s the one listening

by the end of the night, you’re on the couch, he’s on the floor sitting on a bunch of blankets and the tv is on, but no one is paying attention

the groceries sit on the dining table, waiting for a lull in conversation to finally be unpacked

the hours tick down, but only certain fairy and cold items actually make it into the fridge by the end of the night

“so whyd your last relationship end?”

the clock read 12:17 pm and neither of you were ready to go to sleep just yet, especially with the conversation now taking a much more serious, much more interesting turn at this late hour

“honestly… i think she was cheating on me.”

“NO”

“yeah… i never found out if she was, but she started dating some other guy really soon after we had broken up”

“im so sorry alex…”

“yeah…”

a worry that had slowly settled in your head was that alex maybe wasnt as comfortable telling you certain things and you felt like you were pressuring him, and he had to give in, considering he was staying in your home

but he felt no pressure. none at all.

in fact, he was more surprised at how easy it was to tell you all this stuff. and how much he wanted to tell you, but only you. he wanted to talk to you all the time and only stop if it meant he got to listen to you speak for hours on end.

after noticing your frown, he was quick to try and turn it upside down

“b-but don’t feel sorry for me! honestly, i think i was gonna break up with her anyways.”

“how come?”

he stayed silent at first, almost embarrassed that he was having such a cheesy thought but he knew you wouldn’t laugh, so he felt comfortable telling you

“she wasn’t… ‘the one’ you know? you know if you’re meant to be with someone for a long time and for a while, i didn’t feel like that with her… maybe that’s why i thought she was cheating on me. i needed more of a reason than just ‘she’s not the one’ to break up with her.”

you listened intensely

you’d never thought you’d hear alex, of all people, get so philosophical over the concept of “the one”

it was remarkable

“so… how do you know if someone is the one? is there a way to know, like, for sure that this person is the person you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with?”

once again, he sat in silence.

he pondered.

it was funny to see alex ponder.

he glanced around the room when he did. at the ceiling. at the tv. at you.

he stopped at you.

he stared at you.

and you at him.

as you awaited his answer, you examined the little features on his face. the ones that no video camera or phone facetime could ever do justice.

he had much better skin than you thought he would.

each little freckle reminded you of a star.

the little scar on his lip from when tiger scratched him on stream was a funny reminder of what it was like having a cat.

every little detail of him made you smile.

he finally answered

“i think you just… know.”

[uy8hg-art]

Reunion of Sorts

It’s time for @rtwritingcommunity Secret Springfairy!! I got to write this cool fic for @nb-rimmytim / @everamazingfe  Prompt:  Character A is suspected of being a witch/some other forbidden magic thing, and is brought before the ruler of the kingdom, Character B, who must decide their fate. Except, B recognizes A as their childhood friend who 'disappeared.' Summary:  Gavin got caught doing a bit of outlawed magic, but his trip to the palace swerves in an unexpected direction when he recognizes the person on the throne. Preview: Gavin had messed up. Really bad. The good thing was that he was aware that he messed up. Then again, it would be very hard not to notice when you’ve been escorted through town and toward the castle, a place he’d hoped never to go to. He would never forget the looks he drew from bystanders. Mostly it was judgment and scorn, which he was used to after so many years living on the outskirts. But every now and then, especially after one of the guards would jostle him along violently, there would be fear. What had he done? They probably thought. What had the guy who looked like he hadn’t bathed in a week done to face the wrath of the guards? And soon, The King. Gavin wished he could pull his creeper hide cloak up, toss the hood over his head, and hide from all their looks like he normally did, but it had fallen off in the scramble to escape the guards. Even if he still had it, he likely wouldn’t have been able to adjust it, not with his hands cuffed behind him and the guards moving him on at a steadily-increasing pace. He just hoped Michael would find it and realize what had happened before it was too late.

Read the rest on AO3!

[gallickingun]

I’m really soft for the idea of having to use your safe word with Bakugou and he immediately snaps into the most nurturing boyfriend. He’s gone from pounding into you and slapping you around, to holding you to his chest and stroking your hair. He’d run you a bath and while you soaked in there he’d make you some comfort food which he’d feed you later in bed.

a/n: this got p long so i’m putting it under a read more!  tw: degradation

It’s all too much.

“I want to hear you beg for my perfect cock, you little slut,” his lips are curling and all you can see is your own self-hatred reflected to you in his carmine irises. A slap resounds against your cheek but it’s hard to process, save for the way your face turns into the pillow. Bakugou’s hand drifts from your jaw to your throat, encasing the tender muscles within his grasp and squeezing.

You start to see stars when you hear him say, “I said beg, you pathetic bitch, or else I’ll have to punish you for not listening.”

Your heart is pounding, your eyes are pouring tears, and your thighs are starting to clench to the point of pain that no longer feels like pulsing pleasure. You can barely find it in you to form words because your tongue feels warped and heavy within your mouth, but the second you manage to force that very special phrase out of your teeth, the whole world stops spinning.

Bakugou’s hand loosens against your throat and his hips still, buried to the hilt within you, the domineering mask slipping from his expression, “S-Say it again.”

You’re embarrassed, but you repeat the phrase, a choking sob breaking it up in the middle. You turn your head into the pillow so you don’t have to look at him when his face twists in anger or frustration, your hands covering what visibly remains of your face so he can’t see your crumpled features.

“Hey,” Bakugou’s voice is uncharacteristically soft and the sound of it makes you whimper. He doesn’t pull out of you, not yet, because he’s afraid the sudden change might bring another round of emotions to the surface, “Come back to me, princess, I’m right here.”

The gentle way his fingers circle around your wrists could make you cry for another reason entirely, and the crooning of his deep voice in your ear makes your toes curl. You clench your jaw in favor of looking up at him, focusing on the pain that is now throbbing in your gums. Your cheek still stings from the smack you received not but moments prior to your outcry, and you wonder if the skin is as red as you think it might be.

“D-Do you want me to pull out?” His voice is timid, and timid is not something well-known to Bakugou Katsuki. You are shaking your head adamantly, begging with your hands twisting in his grip to hold him by the forearms, eyes wild as you finally glance up at him, “P-Please don’t leave me.”

Bakugou is hushing you, curling his body further into you so he is filling you to the base of him, his knees tucking tightly against your hips and his arms circling around your shoulders to hold you close.

“I’m right here,” he repeats the sentiment from earlier, kisses against your temple. You swear you feel the telltale sign of damp tears against your skin and hair, but you don’t have the wherewithal to take much notice. His cock twitches withing your core and it’s comforting somehow, in tandem with the way he is kissing over your face and running the tip of his nose against your skin, providing you with all the tactile relief he can muster, “I’m not going anywhere, princess, I’m right here.”

He repeats that phrase several times, until your breathing has gone from erratic to something much more calm. Bakugou kisses the space on your chest where your heart would be, “Just breathe, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay. Come back down, I’m right here.”

Your palms press against his chest and he’s taken aback at the sudden contact, irises widening to swallow his pupils. He brushes your hair from your eyes, noting how you flinch at the sight of his hand so close to your face, and his soul cracks in half. Bakugou’s voice is wavering as he whispers, “I-I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

You are shaking your head and trying to keep him from apologizing, but he tucks your head into his chest and rolls to the side so he can cradle you within the cage of his arms, “Don’t.”

Bakugou’s fingertips sift through your hair and down your neck, massaging at the base of your scalp and shoulders. You can hear something akin to humming in your ear, and after a few moments, you realize that Bakugou is singing. A new set of tears well up in your eyes, but you dig yourself further into the cavity of his shoulder, your nose tucked against his throat so you can breathe in his scent.

“I love you,” he grits out the words, kissing your temple, “I hope you know that.”

You tilt your head back so you can look him in the eyes, tears still settled in your lids and caked on your lashes, “I love you too, Katsuki.”

A smile graces his features, and you swear you’ve seen the sun. Pushing yourself up with the gentle movement of your legs, you rub your noses together, closing your eyes as he connects your foreheads, “I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? Help you wash up.”

Your hand reaches upward to cup his cheek, closing your eyes so you can drink in the closeness you have with him at this very moment in time. Your whole body is warm, and your mind is in a haze as you come down from your emotionally spiked high. You can’t help it as you angle your head just enough to meld your lips to his.

The action takes Bakugou by surprise at first, and he doesn’t react to your kissing. You start to pull back once you’ve realized that he isn’t reciprocating, but he’s caught you before you can retreat. He winds his arms around your shoulders and tilts his head forward to capture your lips once again. He is firm, but not so much so that you feel trapped, but rather you feel safe.

Bakugou gathers you up in his arms, gently unsheathing himself from you to cause less stinging at the sudden change of stretch, and walks you into the bathroom. You’re deposited on the counter while he runs the bath water, trying to get the tub to the perfect temperature before transferring you into the sudsy pool. He’s careful as he washes your hair, dipping your head back into the fragrant bubbles and massaging your scalp. 

He stands to his feet once your hair has been rinsed, the bubbles floating around your body popping once they come into contact with your skin. With one last pass through your hair, he retracts his fingers, “I”m going to go make dinner, okay? Let you soak in here a minute longer without me sitting up your ass.”

A giggle parts your lips, and there is a pressure lifted from his chest that he did not realize he was harboring. He clutches at his heart, wrapping his fingers around his pectoral so he can make sure the organ is still beating. The pounding thud against his palm gives him relief and then a smile takes over.

The next time he sees you is when you’re fumbling down the stairs, your body clad in one of his old merch designs, a shirt that falls down to your thighs, just enough to cover your ass. Bakugou smirks, knowing full well that you can make anything look this good.

“What do you want? Action, comedy, romance, or anime?” Bakugou carries two plates of spicy meat and rice to the coffee table where he’s already set up drinks and snacks to go along with dinner. You settle on a comedy movie and he pulls you into his lap, your back pressed against his chest so he can spoon feed you dinner, your headspace still recovering from earlier. The affectionate gesture seems to be over the top, but you are not one to tell Bakugou no when it comes to expressing his admiration to you through his actions. 

It is hours later when you are drifting off to sleep, your head on Katsuki’s chest, and you hear that same tune from earlier being sung into your ears, the vibrations in his chest only furthering your lull into sleep. Bakugou is brushing his fingers against the dated t-shirt in various patterns, the warmth radiating from his body dredging your mind into a sedated state.

“Hey,” he calls to you, bringing your attention to his face with a knuckle crooked underneath your chin. A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and when he pulls away, his voice is gentle, “Where’s my girl?”

You cannot help the dopey grin that tugs on your lips, wriggling your way closer to him so you can rub your nose against his, “I’m right here, ‘Suki.”

And you seal the promise of your presence with a kiss before falling back against his embrace, allowing him to hold together your broken pieces as if he were human glue. The final thing you notice just before you drift into the realm of unconsciousness is the song being sung in your ear.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you keep me happy when skies are gray. Don’t you know dear, how much I love you? Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

-

a/n: wow that got sappy real quick. i hope this was what you were wanting!

[cupidsintern]

shot thru the heart, pt 4

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3

-

Billy was obviously in a pretty foul mood when Steve saw him at school the next day. He didn’t throw Steve a little “hey” of a nod like he’d started doing recently. Didn’t even really look up when Steve sat down. Steve figured Billy probably noticed someone stole his notebook which may or may not have had part of a love letter in the back of it and probably wanted to murder and or never again speak to whoever did it, but then again, maybe he just thought it had been lost?

Steve pulled shit out of his backpack in silence, even as their classmates talked around them, and Steve realized that recently, he and Billy had mostly only been talking to each other. Steve would have to go back to passing full days of school in next to silence if Billy found out about the notebook, and just when things were getting good

The classroom door opened.

A girl- Ellen something? was standing in the doorway in a red pleated skirt and one of those headbands with the hearts on springs. She was holding a basket of roses and a couple teddy bears- Oh my god.

“Valentine grams-” She was explaining to the teacher. As if Steve’s day could not get worse.

The test was going to be postponed for the three excruciating minutes it would take for her to compare notes with the seating chart and one by one hand out Valentines and Steve would just have to sit there wallowing in jealousy and misery.

Steve realized too late that the girl- Ellen… crap, Ellen Studebacker? He thinks?- little headband hearts bobbing, was walking over to him.

“Hi Steve,” Ellen smiled at him, tugging a red rose from her basket and handing it to him like she had probably done a hundred times this week. But he was special, everyone knew him.

The class chattered a little more- someone whistled, someone else laughed- Steve might as well have been deaf to all of it. He wasn't expecting a Valentine gram, only managed a “uh, thanks.” to the girl before she bobbed off on her merry way, and the teacher told them all to quiet down.

Steve got a Valentine gram. He had, a lot going on in his head right now. Way more than there usually was. He stayed up to an ungodly hour last night, later than he had since… you know. But he just couldn’t sleep, he’d felt like someone coated him in slime and he kept getting up to brush his teeth or pace and try hard as he could not to give in a jerk off-

But now he has this. A little heart shaped piece of paper with glitter and lace glued to it to let him know, some girl out there still thinks about him enough to send him a cheesy valentine. What was that thing Billy had said?

Plenty of bitches in the sea.

God he sounded like such a scumbag. Come to find out the guy writes sappy love letters, Steve could almost laugh. He opened up the little Valentine, carefully sliding the rose upright into his backpack before turning back to read:

To: Steve Harrington

2nd Period Class: Room 48

From:

Last category empty, instead of a name, or a “your secret admirer,” the sender had drawn a heart, with an arrow through it. Cartoonish blood dripped off the arrow’s tip.

The swerve of the uppercase S. The line on the H. The tail on the G.

And that stupid shot-through heart.

Steve’s own heart rate reached a yet-to-be-possible BPM he’d know that stupid perfect handwriting anywhere. It was Billy’s handwriting.

Billy sent this.

For a full couple of seconds, Steve drew a complete blank. Nothing happened, he didn’t blink, didn’t move, his heart didn’t beat, he wasn't even sure he breathed.

Then a million different thoughts came crashing down around his ears- almost made him flinch.

Oh my god Billy sent this. To him.

Was this for real? Was this some kind of sick fucked-up-Billy joke? He was just doing it to fuck with Steve’s head- but no. Then he probably would have signed it. Or written some random girl’s name. Not- not drawn a heart. Like the ones he drew in the margins of his notes,

And if Billy was… you know. That would actually make a lot of sense as to why he was such a fucking douchebag.

But what if he wasn't! God but what if he was.

Did he know about Steve?

But god, there wasn't anything to know was there. Steve didn’t- he had never-

Shit, they had a test in class right now, and Steve was sitting with an arrow through his chest and little fucking cartoon hearts around his head.

-

It was just like the universe to make Billy’s main notebook go missing the day before a big fucking test. It was even more like it to set him up to be running on no hours of sleep and sit down in second period to find those stupid fucking Valentine grams being handed out.

In the split seconds before Steve’s name got called, Billy sort of hoped the gram he bought had been lost. They were pretty anonymous to buy, that’s what he’d said to himself when he filled one out, folded it up more times than necessary and jammed it in the little heart shaped box. But now, faced with the consequences of his moment of weakness, he could not be filled with more regret.

Harrington just sat there too, looking dumbstruck turning the Valentine over and over before the test started. Like he wasn’t a bombshell on the worst of hair days- he didn’t even have bad hair days.

Billy was determined to not look, not stare at the back of Steve’s head like he had every other day this year. But for the split second he looked up, Steve was turned ever so slightly to the side, his perfect nose and perfect forelock illuminated by the sunshine pouring in from dusty classroom windows. He was smelling the rose.

Billy left class as quick as he could, the test was pretty easy, but no doubt Harrington would still be in there struggling for at least ten minutes, which gave Billy more than enough time to cool his nerves before steve inevitably cae to find him at lunch like he’d done for the past couple days, just to say hi.

But he didn’t see Steve at lunch. Probably should be a relief, but Billy couldn’t help but feel his heart sinking a little. And then kicking himself for caring at all when really he shouldn't. This was nothing, just like all the other times.

Billy went to switch textbooks at his locker, more of a nerd move than he would usually allow himself but he wanted to at the very least have an okay school day.

But when he went to open his backpack, there was his notebook. He did a double take. He could have sworn the thing was missing. He had dumped his backpack out and turned it inside out on his bedroom floor, got pencil shavings all over the place in the process, and it wasn't there.

But now here it was. Billy opened it.

A note fell out.

“I took your notebook- sorry. Here’s it and the notes back. Probably be easier to study together sometime anyway. If you’re still down.

Thanks for the rose.”

Billy probably had six separate heart attacks in the span of the couple seconds it took to read the note over again. Then he laughed out loud, in the heart-splattered hallway right in front of his locker, didn't care if anyone looked at him weird.

“Thanks for the rose.”

-

this was gonna be the last part but honestly i might write one more just cause i want them to kiss. lmk what u think lads :3

[matbarzyy]

A Taste Of Heaven

A/N: Life is crazy so enjoy this soft little piece while I try my best to work on some real fics. I got an ask for some Mat smut and then a request in my dms from @fash03​ so here you go guys! (i wrote this during breaks at work so it’s not really proofread)

Word count: 2713

Warnings: smut (oral)

.

“Morning Barzal,” you mumbled, blinking a few times as you opened your eyes.

You had been woken up by his fingers running up and down your arm, just enough to tickle you. Mat always got handsy in the morning while he waited for you to wake up, ultimately waking you every time, but you had never minded it.

There was something about getting to live with the love of your life that made you grateful to wake up next to him every single day. Granted, you sometimes groaned and whined when it was too early and you wanted more cuddle time, but this morning was special. Even though you could see the orange light of the sunrise streaming through the blinds you had never been happier to be awake.

“Morning, soon-to-be Mrs. Barzal,” Mathew smiled against the skin of your shoulder and left a couple of kisses there.

“Bold of you to assume I’m taking your name,” you giggled, happiness flooding your body as you thought back on the previous night.

“Mmh, we can talk about that later.” Mat gently slid his fingers down your arm one last time until he reached your hand. “This looks so fucking good on you,” he admired the ring while you nodded.

“It’s so pretty, you picked perfectly,” you lifted your hand for him to be able to take a closer look, and it led to you turning around to face him. “Thank you,” you let the tip of your nose nudge his and Mat’s smile widened.

“Anything for you,” he tilted his head for your lips to meet.

You melted right against him, your hands finding his naked torso and resting there to feel his heartbeat while you exchanged slow kisses. You would never get tired of kissing Mat. His lips were always so soft, and he sometimes tasted like your strawberry lip balm he liked to borrow. His excuse the first time you saw him use it was that his lips were chapped and it was the only thing he could find, but as time went you understood he just liked the taste of it. Maybe it wasn’t the taste itself he liked, but the reminder of what your lips always tasted like when he kissed you.

You smiled against each other when he pushed you onto your back, shuffling closer so that his chest could be pressed against yours. Your hands slid up and over his shoulders, enjoying the warmth of his skin while he deepened the kiss a little. If you had to describe what heaven was to you, you would describe this exact moment with Mat. There was nothing but love between you, except maybe excitement over the wedding you had to plan, and this early in the morning he was the only thing on your mind. You could smell the faint but comforting scent of his shower gel, and his hair felt incredibly soft between the tips of your fingers when you stroked it.

 Mat hummed against you, mumbling some word you didn’t catch but knew was a praise. You would have been fully content just kissing slowly for hours, but he had other ideas in mind as you soon found out from the way he bit into your bottom lip. The gesture pulled a quiet whimper out of you, and that prompted Mat to drop his weight onto you, pinning you to the mattress even when he pulled away from the kiss.

It wasn’t enough for you to look at each other, but it gave you a few seconds to breathe and it made Mat’s next words understandable.

“I wanna stay in bed all day,” he sighed against you, hands softly caressing your skin over the shirt you were wearing.

“Yeah?” You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging his head up a couple of inches. The strands fell from your hand and flopped back over his forehead, his hair was getting too long again, but it looked too pretty for you to tell him he should think about cutting it.

“Mmh,” he leaned into your touch for a few seconds before lifting himself and reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Want you with nothing but the ring on.” His voice was a little rougher when he spoke, desire already clear in his features.

When Mat had a goal you knew he’d do anything until he reached it, and his goal for the day seemed to involve you and lots of pleasure. You couldn’t complain about it, his ideas usually led to an incredible outcome for you, so you gave in easily.

“Only if you get naked too,” you already had your arms up to let him get rid of the fabric on you, so Mat chuckled and diligently obeyed.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked his lips, his eyes moving over your body.

You smiled and gave him a little show, stretching your arms over your head when you leaned back against the mattress and arching your back. You had long foregone the stage where you were shy and hiding from him, mostly because of his constant praise and how insistent he was that he wanted to see how pretty you looked whenever he touched you. You went from hiding your face in his shoulder when you had sex to stretching like that in front of him fully naked, and you never failed to look into his eyes when your bodies moved together now.

“What are you waiting for?” You eventually asked him because as much as you enjoyed the fact that he couldn’t take his eyes off you, you’d appreciate it if he could get his hands on you.

“Can’t I take a minute to appreciate that I'm gonna be able to call the most beautiful woman in the world my wife soon?” Mathew pouted and crawled back on top of you, caging you in his arms as he held himself up to be face to face with you.

“Maty, last night was emotional enough, don’t spend the day trying to make me cry,” you laughed it off, but you were a little nervous about the massive step you were about to take together. You were sure of what you wanted, it was just that you hadn’t expected the proposal so soon and it was still a lot to digest for you.

“Come on,” he chuckled and gave you a quick kiss. “You know I’m not usually that sappy, but this is special,” he cupped your cheek, feeling you nod against his hand.

“It is,” you turned your head to kiss his palm. “I’m just not over it all yet,”

“Well,” Mat grinned, lowering himself smoothly until he was at the perfect level to drop a kiss to your collarbone. “You’ve got all day to get over it while I eat you out.”

His lips moved to find your nipple before you could reply, and he teased it with his teeth and tongue so perfectly that your words got lost in your throat.

“O-oh,” you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders again.

Mathew took it as an encouragement, his hands suddenly all over you again to caress your skin. The sheets rustled quietly under your bodies, and the covers were only keeping Mat’s legs warm, but with the way he touched you and the heat of his skin you were far from cold either.

His lips didn’t linger on your chest much, but he still left several kisses on your stomach and sides as he worked his way down your body. By the time his cheek was resting on the inside of your thigh, his hand had found yours and your fingers were weaved together. Mat could feel the ring against his own skin, a reminder that you had said yes to being his forever. He couldn’t have described the emotions that filled his heart in that moment even with the world’s best dictionary beside him.

All he knew was that he wanted you to feel good, he wanted intimacy, and he wanted you to know he was going to take care of you as well as he could forever. For today, that meant spending hours with his face buried in your pussy.

“Gonna stay down here all fucking day,” he sighed, intoxicated by your taste from the first kitten lick his tongue left on your folds.

You only hummed your agreement, your body was already relaxed into the mattress because you were just waking up, and Mat’s gentleness was just what you needed to slowly get more worked up. You weren’t surprised by how good he was at this, he had many days and nights of practice.

Sometimes he liked it in the morning, gentle and soft just like now, but other times he’d tease you all day long to dive in a little bit rougher and overstimulate you. When he was bored during movies he was used to just kneeling by the couch and eating you out until you had to tug his head away or until his neck ached from the position. There were also a few times you had to push him on his back and sat on his face until you were satisfied, and the thought was enough to get your cheeks to heat up.

You couldn’t pick a favourite moment, but you could easily say that by now Mat’s mouth on you always felt like perfection. He had practiced every flick of his tongue and every suck so many times on you that by now he didn’t even have to think about what he was doing. He could just get lost in you, in the sweet taste of your pussy, in the warmth of your body and in the beauty of your moans.

The lazy lapping at your pussy to warm up didn’t last long, as soon as you moved to close your thighs and lifted your hips to get closer to his mouth Mat knew he could move on. His goal wasn’t to tease, he wanted to give you everything you wanted, and so he paid particular attention to every reaction he got from you with each touch. He listened to your breathing and felt your lungs expand and retract under his palm when he placed his hand flat across your stomach, keeping you in place while the other teased your inner thigh to feel it tremble.

Every little moan he pulled out of you, every hitch in your breath, every clench of your muscles and every sigh filled him with pride. This pleasure was all he ever wanted to make you feel, if it were up to him he’d keep you in this state of relaxation and euphoria forever.

“So good,” you praised quietly through a gasp, lifting your head and adjusting your pillow to make it easier for you to look at him.

Mat’s eyes met yours, glossed over by desire, a need to please you and a determination to succeed that made you bite your lip and moan. A similar noise fell from his lips, muffled against your pussy where he was still eagerly licking and sucking on sensitive parts that were making you see stars.

Your hands moved from over your head where they held your pillow back down towards Mat. He was doing amazing, but you wanted just a little bit more, and both of your hands grabbing his hair to guide his head down was all the signal he needed to pick up his pace.

You were the one to break the eye contact, whimpering and arching your back off the mattress while he slowly fucked you with his tongue, lapping up every drop he could get and moaning at the taste. It was the most sinful and beautiful moment, Mat’s moans alone were enough to get you dripping wet, so adding that to his mouth on your pussy and the way he looked at you got you on the verge of exploding.

Your orgasm built up slowly, careful traces of Mat’s tongue over your clit giving you just the right kind of stimulation in between sucks and broader licks that sent your mind reeling. Your body heated up and you were suddenly glad the covers were far gone from the bed. Mat could feel you were close, he could feel you clenching and he knew from the irregularity of your breathing that now wasn’t the time to let up.

His hips rocked against the mattress for relief as he groaned, even more turned on now that you were about to come on his face. You tugged on his hair, guiding him where you needed him most, and Mat gladly obliged. His hands slid over your thighs to keep them spread open while you whined and tried to thrust your hips up.

Mat grunted and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on it before teasing it with his tongue until you stopped breathing altogether for a few seconds. Your muscles trembled with the pleasure and you came with a sigh of his name.

“Fuck Mat,” you exhaled, letting your legs fall down to stop fighting against his grip while you pushed yourself up to look down at him.

He hummed in response and looked at you, still lapping at your pussy but avoiding your clit to give you a few seconds to come down. Your fingers brushed through his hair slowly, admiring how good he looked like that, determined to do nothing but make you feel good.

“So,” he parted from you for a second to speak, then went back to leaving some more kisses over your folds before lifting his head enough to rest his chin on your lower stomach. “Can I keep doing this all day?”

“Is that the life that awaits me now that I’ve got this?” You showed him the back of your hand and wriggled your fingers, clearly showing off the ring.

“Yeah,” Mat crawled up, a bright smile taking over on his face. “You’re gonna be my wife.” He repeated for the millionth time since you had said yes, but the words still held all of the wonders of the world for the both of you.

“I’m gonna be your wife,” you giggled, still in awe, and Mat stopped your brain from working altogether when he crashed his lips against yours again.

You moaned at the taste on his tongue and grabbed his shoulder to pull him closer, letting the weight of his body press yours into the mattress. He was all you could feel, and as much as he loved it too, he had different plans for the day. Mat’s kisses were sloppy and a little wet as he quickly made his way back down your body again, his eyes trained on yours.

You breathed faster, hands just following his shoulders as he went, and a second later his face was smothered in your pussy again. Mat closed his eyes with a groan, you were dripping and he was already losing himself in you. Shudders of pleasure coursed through your veins, pulling quiet moans and praises that encouraged him to give you more.

“You’re so fucking good to me Maty,” you whined, pulling on his hair to make him look at you again.

He didn’t lift his head much, but it was enough for you to see his face glistening with your wetness. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip as you held the eye contact, wanting to enjoy every possible aspect of this moment. Yet with one, two skilled flicks of his tongue Mat had you throwing your head back on the pillow while your fingers dug into his shoulder.

Your nails would leave marks there, but neither of you cared. It was too good, and if Mat really spent the day between your leags you were sure you’d end up blacking out from the pleasure. Somehow the thought excited you even more. He was being so gentle, hungry for it but soft, and you felt so loved and safe that you were willing to try anything, even if it meant pushing your physical limits as far as they might go.

It only took one more glance at him for you to decide there truly was no better man for you to get married to.

.

Please reblog and let me know what you thought!!

[maghrib-genova]

Ultimate Crossover AU

Read explanation about the pairings under the cut.

The Crossover AU  in which each Marwan characters has his own Luca from their movie I’ve watched so far.

1.       Pierre x Roberta [Murder on the orient Express x L'ultimo Terrestre]

The softest pairing because both of them are good people who deserve so much love, bond over their love for their mother, clearly love at first sight, meet on the train. A lot of sweet things, rainbow and sunshine pairing, compliments each other daily, calling each other “love” in each other language and super understanding, got married after six months dating and stay together till old and gray.

2.       Daan x Paolo [Hartenstraat x Il Padre D'Italia]

They fall in love through online dating website.  Paolo just recently adopted a daughter and doesn’t really know what he is doing so he is panicking and want to meet someone online that probably can help him a little bit since he doesn’t really have many friends. Paolo dating profile  “not really trying to find someone in particular because I just recently adopted a daughter,  if anyone wanted to share some tips and willing to be the lending ear of my distress I would be more than happy to have a friend like that” and Daan clicked on the profile because of those sweet smile and beautiful eyes. They bond through Daan amazing skill in taking care of kid because he has his own share raising Saar alone to give some tips. They decided to meet up for real after chatting back and forth and Paolo is a goner because Daan got a killer smile ready with the kind eyes, he knew at how all the single moms on the block gets their ovaries warm and melted when Daan smiled at them. Not to mention he loves his daughter so much and always talk about her so freely, Paolo seeing Daan with his daughter really what made Paolo sure about being with him. Paolo is super shy around Daan, like Daan compliment everything about him but he still find it’s hard to believe in his words even though he literally look like the sweetest thing in the world especially when he wake up in Daan’s arm after gentle slow sex in the morning. Daan would be like “my love haven’t you see yourself in the mirror?”. They are the most wholesome parents after they got married. They are both sappy romantic couple that love their daughters so much.

3.       Majid x Martin [Martin Eden x Wolf]

This pairing is full of angst, misunderstanding and a lot of fighting, Martin clearly use his words to hurt Majid and Majid sometimes can’t help his anger issue so Martin got the slap sometimes in which Majid will keep asking for forgiveness, angst without happy ending it seems with this two. They met at the restaurant near the dock, a few table a part from each other, feel attraction and have one night stand, then they meet again and they were young so they fall hard and they were in love. At first it was easy, just the two of them, they decided to move in together but after a year when money becoming the issue and Majid start getting back to his street way of making money so he could put food on the table and Martin with his own issue, the self doubt , he just want to write but he thinks the world is a sickening place, they start to question about why they still stay together if the conversation always end up in arguments. Always angsty hate fuck with this two when both feeling nauseous afterwards. Majid would hug Martin from behind after they both spent and sweaty from the aftermath and they would murmured while cuddling up in each other arms with words that could cut hearts.

Majid : I can’t quit you but you make me sick, sleeping with you made me sick but I hate you so much because how much I love you.

Martin : You don’t love me for who I am . You want me to change in order for you to give me just some fragments of affection that I barely even get from your rough hands and how you beat up the world and make your own laws.

Majid : You would know better about the state of the world if you didn’t live too long in your idealistic fictional world in your head, step out side and look around you, this world is not getting any better, I work like that so you can live your dreams but you see what I did for you like a disease. 

Martin : Love is not for someone like us, You are too careless about this world and you see me as a joke even from the start, how could you expect me to stand by when you stomped all over my feeling.

Majid would force Martin to look at him while he said those words and Martin would cry and they would kiss again and fuck again and hate each other again, repeat.

4.       Fabio x Jafar [They call me Jeeg x Aladdin]

Fabio who craved for power finally had his wish granted when he found Djin jafar lamp. He rubbed on the magic lamp and had the powerful Djin under his command to do whatever he wants. The unstoppable evil power they would have together. They would rule the world together, a lot of evil laughter, the world will enter dark age, they would be so happy together in their own evil way. Also alot of weird kinky sex. Involved a snake.

5.       Cesare x Rico [Non Essere Cattivo x Bloedlink]

Cesare and Rico a total mess. Cesare trying to find away to sell more drugs and Rico with the idea of kidnapping a girl for some ransom. The quick money they could have and what they should do to get it that’s what they are talking about during breakfast,  dinner time or after sex pillow talk. Briefly meet in prison but wasn’t close but know each other, see each other again at a bar and somehow whey they talk outside they have the same idea and can easily connect so they hit off and start dating. The problem in their so wholesomely in mess relationship is Cesare addiction, like Rico is okay with all the other crimes they committed together but to see Cesare losing himself to drug abuse was hard, they often fight because of the drugs. Probably end up in prison again together (happy ending) or..one of them or both of them get shot during one of their crimes (the sad ending version).

These pairings probably will change if I watched more of their movies and find more suitable characters. I just want each of them to have their own pair. Joe x Nicky infinite alternate universe.

Actually have soft spot for :

1. Majid x Roberta

2. Majid x Fabio

If Roberta wasn’t paired with Pierre I would give her to Majid and if Fabio wasn’t with Jafar I think Majid also really suitable for him. There are Primo, Mickey, Fabrizio, etc to consider but we can talk about them later. I just love Crossover AU so much.

[lizbotw]

it’s only sharing a disgustingly sweet milkshake at the local college town diner after both of your evening classes that suna graciously provides the answers to the math homework.

the spongy pencil eraser is easy for you to sink your teeth into as you puzzle over his handwriting. “you know,” you mumble around the nib, trying to figure out if that’s a 5 or a 6, “i never know why you do this to me every week.” this time the drink with two plastic straws floating in an unhealthy heaping of whip cream is a syrupy strawberry flavor.

rintarou tips forward to sip at one of them and in your peripheral, chunky pink-coated fruit pieces travel up the clear tube and disappear between his lips. he releases the straw with an annoying ah that makes you frown, even if you weren’t concentrating in the first place. “aw, don’t tell me you don’t like hanging out with me.” he feigns hurt.

a well placed sip of your own allows you to avoid having to answer that—you have a personal rule of never being sappy in the presence of calculus. if you didn’t like him, suna knows you wouldn’t be hanging out with him—there are just some things you can’t do, even if it’s for the sake of your grade. none of this has to be said out loud of course, but he decides to be annoying and ask anyway.

actually—well... maybe hanging out is... not exactly how this appears to bystanders.

sharing a drink like this, you two probably look more like a couple on a (terribly cheap) afternoon date, rather than two broke college students that split meals to save money and believe that sharing answers for homework isn’t cheating, it’s collaboration.

ha, as if it would ever be different—things like the former never come true. maybe in movies, but that’s about where the line is drawn.

as if he knows what you’re thinking, suna raises an eyebrow at you over the glass, a smile playing on his lips—the same stupid look he always gives you. it feels particularly worse this evening.

it’s hard to avoid eye contact with him mere inches away, but you manage when a car painted a very interesting shade of red rumbles past the fingerprint covered window. you’re grateful for the distraction.

the subject changes when you realize suna has terrible taste when it comes to ordering milkshakes. “what flavor is this?” you spit out the word as though the very concept of calling this a real flavor is more disgusting than the drink itself, smacking your lips and screwing up your face at the excessively saccharine, artificial strawberry aftertaste.

this is no ordinary strawberry milkshake. no, this is a so-bad-only-suna-rintarou-would-order-something-this-horrible-(and-not-necessarily-on-purpose-either) strawberry milkshake.

“valentine’s valor,” he states matter-of-factly like those words mean anything to you. you stare at him until he elaborates. “their valentine’s special,” he clarifies and is gifted with a sarcastic thumbs-up from you in thanks—it is pointedly ignored and suna slings an arm over back of his seat. “dunno the exact flavor though. forgot.”

it tastes like the embodiment of pink, you decide. valentine’s valor. what a stupid name. there are a million and one better words that start with v... you can name at least five with a little thinking. you should ask them to hire you as part of their marketing team, you decide.

maybe it’s fitting title though. you certainly need valor to even think about taking another sip of that... concoction—which you do because you are obsessed with getting your money’s worth.

“valentine’s day was half a week ago?” your mental calendar helpfully supplies.

the clatter of pans in the back kitchen somehow mingles charmingly with the way rintarou throws his head back to laugh—a scene straight out of a movie really. you decide you hate him in the moment. “right you are. want a prize?” ugh. you stick your tongue out at his tone.

great. as if to add insult to injury, of course you’re sharing an out-of-date love holiday special with suna of all people. valentine’s was four days ago and this is where you are on a thursday night. the sticky upholstery of the booth seat, ripped and fraying at the corners, squeaks and groans and attaches itself to the fabric of your jeans as you shift around, suddenly hot. what a strange situation to be in, you think. this has to be a metaphor for life—then again, you’d been thinking this whole... thing has been a metaphor anyway.

yup, ever since suna sat next to you in a calculus II lecture all those fated months ago and took pity on how much you fucking sucked at math, up until the present where he takes slightly less pity on you but does enjoy emptying your dorm mini-fridge and making you pay for his milkshakes—all of it. this entire thing with him. one big stupid metaphor.

the specifics of how you came to have a routine like this are certainly murky, but two things are for certain—one, your calculus grade is certainly a lot better than it would have been otherwise, and two, you have one friend more than you did at the start of the school year. (that last one is kind of a big deal, you think. the college social scene is brutal. the word friend has started to become more disappointing than exhilarating lately though.)

rin reaches to your left to pick at the fries you’d ordered as a side—you’ve learned not to try and stop him. “also,” he adds, mouth full, “you’re totally getting me a new pencil after this.” yes, true, the pencil you’re currently leaving frustrated teeth marks all over isn’t yours. very easy to forget in the moment. you’ve probably destroyed 15 of his pencils by now for the 15 weeks of the last semester—only 7 so far for the current one. you do the mental math.

instead of drawing in the sharp lines of the differential equation that should be going in the question box, you lightly trace in the curves of a 2 and then another one next to it in the corner of the worksheet, graphite underlining them both in one swoop. the horribly thin paper of the school library’s printer is scratchy as you write but soon you flip the pencil over and under your fingers to tap the eraser (that has seen better days) just below what you wrote. “this is pencil number 22.”

suna leans over to look at the number as if you hadn’t just told him what it said. what an idiot. “glad you’re keeping count.” he settles back into his seat. “when can i expect my reimbursement?”

“you’re funny,” you say, without a hint of humor in your voice. the pretty 22 you had written now has flower petals growing off of the sides as you get distracted doodling along the edges of your work. it’s quiet for a moment as he watches you, or maybe as he takes the chance while you’re distracted to shove more french fries down his throat—either option is plausible and you don’t lift your eyes to check.

something occurs to you.

“rin.” you take an extended pause in between the words as you continue drawing, just to annoy him. you don’t continue speaking until he grumbles in acknowledgment (you try to hide your smile). “do you ever doodle in your notebooks?” now that you thought about it, suna was surprisingly pretty straight-laced when it came to class—you couldn’t ever recall him ever slacking off to the degree that meant his pages were filled with hearts and stars and flowers and suns and atomically inaccurate animals and tiny people in different colored ink. your work was always certainly the more vibrant out of the two (perhaps that could explain your grades and how you understand like... nothing in your lectures, but you decide correlation does not equal causation).

“waste of time,” he says around another mouthful of fries, another one already halfway there to his mouth.

suna is also surprisingly negative at times—but the blue book flipped open to his homework says maybe he’s just a liar though. you squint at it.

“it’s still pretty early but we probably should get out of here soon,” suna says, pulling his phone out from his pocket to check the time and leaning his elbows on the table. “i’ll walk you back. your roomie doesn’t leave the gym until 9—before you ask, yes i’ve been keeping track. it’s not stalking if it’s for my own sake.”—rin is, of course, referring to the long standing rivalry between him and your (very nice, might you add) roommate you don’t really understand but which has cumulated in him deciding he would avoid them as much as humanly possible purely out of spite. (“the only person i like in dorm 302 is you,” he’d told you one time and the throwaway sentence maybe made your heart flutter more than it probably should’ve.)

the bell above the front door jingles behind you as another patron enters. rin glances up at the sound and then returns to his phone with a bored bat of his eyes, probably scrolling through twitter or replying to texts, and picking at his teeth with a toothpick (where did he even get that?).

you try to get back to work (copying) but something in your gut tells you there’s more to his notebook than the messy handwriting and crossed out words that meet the eye.

with suna distracted, you take the chance to carefully slide the book towards you and then, in a single quick swipe, pull it into your lap under the table, already leafing to the back pages—everyone knows that’s where the real secrets are—not sure what to expect. a flash of color makes you pause and you flip back to a page that has the corner folded into a tiny, crisp triangle.

whatever you were thinking suna had stashed in the back of his calculus notebook certainly does not match up with what’s staring you in the face currently. sparkly, gel-inked hearts in neon colors glitter under the fluorescent overheads. in each of them, written in capital letters neater than you thought possible for suna, is your initials, a small plus sign in the middle, and then S.R. (for none other than suna rinatoru) next to it. it instantly makes sense to you. “rin, what the fuck.” one side of the book dangles from your hand, pages fluttering, and you hold it up for him to see, other hand flying to cover your mouth because you don’t know whether to laugh or pretend to be mortified or what.

it’s very amusing to watch how suna goes from a disinterested stare, to widened eyes, to reaching over the heaps of school supplies to attempt to grab the book from you, frantic. you hold it just out of reach. “what are you—” an old lady at a table shushes him when he half-screams. “—give that back,” suna whisper-yells instead in the greatest verbal equivalent of tiny caps you’ve ever heard.

“not a chance.”

he looks like he wants to lunge across the table and pry his prized possession from your meddling hands, but also has half the mind not to make a scene. getting kicked out and then subsequently banned from his favorite diner all on a noise complaint and disorderly conduct accusation was not ideal.

you hum, flip back to your place, and observe the drawings covering the lined pages. you shoot him a venomous smirk over the edge of the cover, one that’s more theatrics than anything, and say with all the satisfaction of someone who knows they have all the power, “oh, this is gold.” he deflates and you feel grateful he doesn’t see right through your facade because oh man are you sweating inside right now. what the fuck? no way suna rintarou is drawing little hearts with both of your initials in it like a lovesick middle schooler. no fucking way. you almost want to tell him that you did the same thing once when the thoughts about him had gotten especially bad (you felt guilty afterwards though, thinking you never had a chance with him, but... now... if he’s doing the same—well, that kind of changes everything).

suna is utterly defeated you think—doesn’t even try to defend himself, just slumps in his seat with a groan. you at least expected a “i can explain!” from him, a last attempt at dignity, not the resigned “i’m never going to live this down, am i?” he mumbles after a few seconds. well, either works for you.

“nope,” you quip, maybe a little too cheerfully because the response you receive is a distressed wail and him banging his head against the table. the old lady shushes him again. you chuckle at that (it feels a little wobbly though because once again, freaking out here) and flip the page. you stop.

this one has similar perfect little hearts drawn all over it, but there are other things. cute, standard shaky drawings of misshapen dogs and volleyballs and other things you never thought suna would take it upon himself to create but all of which make sense are there. but there’s something else. little scribbles in the corners with your last name swapped with his and even him trying out his name with your last one—all of them are scratched out but not so much you can’t read them. a list on the right in a very tiny font that makes you think he was embarrassed even penning the words is titled “date ideas?” (the question mark is in red and the dot is a heart) and has several popular spots around town written down in the local lingo of unofficial names for them.

“listen... please let’s forget about this.” rin’s voice is muffled and he’s still faceplanted. “it’s fine if you don’t... you know... yeah.” if you don’t feel that way, he means. true, the doodles were a pretty good indication of his feelings.

what to do...

well... you take pity on him, let your lips upturn and your eyes soften to reflect the sentiment, and shut the book with a quiet thud. you slide it back across the table from where it came and back to him silently. you give it a resounding pat when suna peeks up at you, expression saying it all—he was so going to get you back for this. you stick your tongue out—acceptance of the challenge. and just like that, you’re friends again—maybe that’s what’s so great about suna.

as you get ready to leave and slowly begin the trek back to the dorm buildings with him, street lamps glimmering a pasty yellow, there’s no awkward tension, no need to ask questions, no verbal wonderings about what ifs between you two. it’s just joking and shoving each other around and challenges to see who can run to the next tree the fastest in the middle of the chilly february night. you know, maybe for now you’ll keep your own thoughts a secret.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Neon Silhouettes

Hello! I’m very happy to finally post this because ive been working on this for a month! This is serving as an entry to @ackermans-freedom-inc discord challenge. Behold it’s long!

Word Count: 10.538k, i’m not even sorry

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Tags: a n g s t, vigilante!au

Warnings: blood, violence, major character death (? its open to interpretation) 

In contrast to yours, Eren's breath is hot and tainted on the nape of your neck when you push him away from your form in an attempt to get more oxygen running through your system. The hazy high of your orgasm is mighty, similar to a fairytale like dream and makes all air around you run thin with each passing second. You're not sure if you're paying much attention to it, though, because your breath seems to be completely restored before you even think about catching up with it.

Eren makes a loud thud as he plops himself into the matress with his utmost enthusiastic moves. You can tell by his reactions that he enjoyed this intercourse even more than he'll ever admit -not that he's shy to ever do so- and that he seeks a way to relax himself from his own high. For that very reason, his hands are rather quick to pull you on his panting chest, just to provide some comfort for himself but in the process your silent plea to get a breather is long forgotten. You feel you head being smashed onto his smooth skin and you relax under the touch, thinking that you could cease this moment to fall into serenity as well.

With your heart still beating through your ribs though, you contemplate on whether or not falling into serenity now is a logical idea at all. Anxiety has planned seeds in your stomach ever since a few hours prior to your solo patrol in this area of Trost, merely at the thought of bumping into Eren. You had been practicing the words your comrades had assigned you to consider one too many times, and yet, the moment you laid eyes on Eren's helmet covered face your nervousness had worked wonders on turning them into thin air. It had happened so fast that you wondered if this was an actual new power you could posses.

Nevertheless, the anxiety is back now and it's growing its bindweeds in the pits of your stomach. A chapped piece of your lip is stuck under your front teeth, ready to be ripped off as your fingers are mimicking a walk, up and down on Eren's chest. You're not sure if you can talk and consequentially, the thin piece of flesh is ripped away from your lips forcefully, allowing the thin, iron like taste of blood to conquer your senses.

And in the moment it's all you can focus on.

It's always like this when it comes to Eren and yours passionate rendezvous; your mind is drenched of any thought other than him, your heart ceases to pulse inside your body and your legs feel like the most trashy, inexpensive jello -yes the one you ought to find at random 7/11s in the middle of nowhere after a long night of patrol when you're so hungry that your stomach feels likes its going to burst throughout your mouth canal. And yes, you've tried to restrain yourself from feeling this way, but it's not easy, especially when Eren's hand comes to tangle its way through your hair, scratching softly at your roots.

Clicking your tongue in your mouth though, you can't help but let your mind wander just for you to realise it's been so long since you've had said trashy jello dessert. It's not like you exactly miss it -no, you wouldn't say you did, its taste was atrocious- but it's nostalgic to think about your debut days as a younger superhero. Especially when you think about that it was due to that that you met Eren.

The thought that feasts on your brain though is nothing more than a projection of everyone's nostalgia of Eren, not only yours. The only reason he's laying underneath you with his right hand bent under his head and catching his heavy breaths as his chest basically pulsates and squirms under your form is because you've chosen to dance in that dark sewer of a world that is the reality of anti heros. Everyone who knows about you and Eren -mostly Levi and Mikasa- have pushed you over the edge of trying to shake him off of his criminal killing rampage, but you know him better than anyone. Thus, in reality, you don't know about whether you should utter that little speech that's at the tip of your tongue.

You nervously chew onto that tiny piece of flesh you've ripped from your lip for over a minute before you dare to try and think about what to do with it. Swallowing seems like a good option, the thought of spitting it like a bitten off nail unsettles you to a certain extent, plus you're not sure if bitten flesh activates Eren's titan senses. You never truly know what triggers people with titan powers and you're not about to risk it. Ironically, that's exactly how you're feeling when it comes to your thoughts but after you feel the teeny bundle of flesh go down your throat your mouth washes the taste of iron away and parts to your brain's command.

"Eren?" You breath out, your eyes despairately trying to fixate on anything other than his form.

Eren's finger is harsh and calloused to the touch as it mellowy grazes the soft skin on the underside of your wrist. Your eyes are finally fixed to the circling movements and though you want to give in the the long for sleep your eyelids suddenly ache for, your mind, much allured by how serene everything feels, pushes you to protest against it. There's nothing you can do about your fast mouth though; resenting it hasn't ever seemed like the way to go through with it.

"Yeah, baby?" Eren half moans to your direction.

You notice how he shifts his form comfortably from underneath you, obviously in search of the perfect sleeping position. Naturally this should have kept you back from speaking further; well this and the fact that he isn't exactly expecting what you're about to say, but nonetheless you swallow hard and bite on the inside of your cheek before you open your mouth to speak once again.

"Can we talk about it, lovey?" You hesitate with the nickname, yet when you utter it you know you dont regret its sappy nature.

"About it?"

"You know," you trail off "About the Titans case."

"What is there to talk about? We'll sort the case out one and for all, we've agreed on it."

Well of course, for both you and Eren, and probably every other person in this world, this case is something that should permanently close. It only seems fair, all those years that you've spent being hunted by those monsters are starting to put an overwhelming amount of weight into modern superheros and anti-heros alike. Everyone basically had the same goal concerning this case, yet people are still split as to how it should be closed.

Eren says it's fitting for The Titans to pay for their sins with more blood than they have managed to spill; they're a top crime syndicate that focuses on abducting humans and mutating them into bloodlusting monsters, just for the purposes of creating their own sick and twisted army of mindless pawns. Eren, having fallen an indirect victim of their brutality stands by his beliefs and won't let a titan standing on their feet when he encounters one.

But he wasn't always like this. Not exactly

Back in the day when he worked as Levi's sidekick, he wouldn't brutalize them to the point where they'd bleed to death, but he would make sure they weren't going ever be healed again, not even if they were ever given an antidote. His falling out with Levi and your team of superheroes though, followed by the brutal murder of his mother had withered Eren's psyche with tormentous force.

You furrow your brows as your mind travels back to those dark memories, dipping into necessary pieces of information that need to be composed in some way for you to reply to him. Ironically, it was when Eren turned his back on your team that you found some major leads as to who run the Titans and possibly even why.

"We'll sort the case," you say "but I don't think you should be murdering them."

Eren takes the hand that acts as a comforter over your harshly and pinches the bridge of his nose as he exhales in disapproval. You know, his face must be scrunched in misery right now, brows puckered over his nose and eyes firmly closed shut. You can listen to his heart and in turn you feel the buzzing his pulse makes as it speeds up a tad.

"We've talked about this. You do you. And I do me."

For a moment you contemplate on whether you want to use your psychic superpowers on him. To think that you can change his mindset is an enchanting thought; in fact right now, it's so alluring that you feel the familiar awakening of your powers rush through your veins. It feels like cotton candy colored poison -that's probably the best way you can describe it according to other psychic's. Your powers, as naive and endearing they may seem can easily flip the cards on you at any given moment of weakness; it's like your natural instincts awaken with a mind of their own to protect and help their host. But it's merely unethical and dictating to force such change on your beloved as much as it is to do so on the next person.

Your mouth puckers to the right as you let your brain roam over every single possible outcome that this conversation can have, yet you never even flinch on Eren's chest, sternly refusing to let your body react to his words. One wrong reaction and Eren's hotheadedness will bite you in the ass.

"Dont be like that, (y/n)." Eren says

You have to admit he's catching you off guard when his hand comes to move your chin to point at his direction. It's his checkmate move and he knows it, blinking his real eyes into yours, he frees his brows from their gathering, leaving small red lines as reminders of his temper behind. You on the other hand, with your short hitched breaths and that constipated look on your face though you can't help but predict his next sarcastic plea.

"Don't look at me like that."

You cough that little angry, hot huff of air that's trapped inside your lungs for oh so long before you plough your elbows under your face to support your form in order to face him. You never detach yourself from him and you don't plan on doing so, this is probably the only way to make him feel that you take into consideration all his boiling bad blood.

"You know damn well why I'm looking at you like that."

"I do." He shrugs casually and then proceeds to shut his eyes in despair "but you're not here to question my means." Eren sighs in defeat as the words come out of him and proceeds to wrap his arm around you again.

However you pucker your eyebrows further, bringing them impossibly closer to your eyes as you boil the words you seek to speak in the back of your throat "I'm not questioning them. I'm resenting them. I'm not even playing the goody superhero on you, but really why are you doing this?"

You never fail to notice how Eren bites the inside of his cheek or how he clenches his grip on you almost like a silent warning at to what territory you're opting to walk into, but you ignore it, sighing all the way through your mouth hoping that the little oxygen you can fill your lungs with is enough to get you through this.

"Everyone misses you. Don't you care about that?"

Does he? Eren wants to believe that whatever he's doing he's doing it because all of you are excessively significant to him. I all honesty he is fuming over the fact that you don't see how this is the only inevitable option. He hates for his alter ego to be called a mass murderer in the news every other day just as much as he hates the fact that people choose to see a redeemable side to human flesh eating mutants.

"If I don't do what I do, history is going to repeat it self." He spits, harshly enough that he's sure you won't reply just yet. "You and this pretentious superhero facade are not going to be here to live it down with me though."

He watches as your face contorts in surprise as his words fall, your mouth snapping open in order to utter your quick fetched reply but he cuts you off with an even harsher tone this time.

"I'm clearing the world from all this alright? There are many people that do so as well-"

"Who? Flotch and Yelena?" You cut him off, but still he brushes it off.

With a shift in your movements you're on your back, your arms moving mechanically to grab onto the covers to bring them onto your bare chest. Eren can read the action all too well and he hates it, he hates it enough that he runs his hands painfully through his hair, despairate to get them away from the burning skin on his neck. Anxiety has worked wonders on his body, he figures.

"You, Levi, Mikasa, Jean, Connie! Want me to throw more names in your face? Me and my team finish off what you guys chicken out to do." Eren's voice is calm yet his tone is drenched in poison, that mellow sound he makes when he re opens his mouth is what's pushing you over the edge, making your blood boil inside your body. It causes you to wrap your fingers tightly onto the blanket that covers your chest, your fists turning white as you clench on it with full force. As if it can help you concentrate all of your anger on the spot.

Naturally, it can't.

"We're not chickening out Eren, we focus on containing all evil, not annihilating it. To think you can do that-"

"I can-" Eren cuts you off, though you won't let him continue until you get your point across.

"You must be really dumb to carry that mindset. What happens after you annihilate the titans, will you do the same for any other similar crime syndicate? Or are your motives personal only when it comes to this one?"

Eren bites on the sides of his tongue with a piercing force and swallows hard on the bitterweet spit that forms due to the action. He forcefully tosses his head to both left and right to shake away any unwanted thought out of his mind but it hurriedly proves to be fruitless. As much as he has liked to think that you can get past that fight on your morals one day, it's obvious to him that it's a fundamental dynamic between the two of you. It's a concrete wall that's none of you can or are willing to try to go through. And he doesn't like that, not one bit.

"Don't try to boss me into your beliefs." His eyes widen as he speaks, voice tainted in a growling anger that he can feel cooking inside his chest.

"I'm not bossing you Eren, stop acting like this."

"Why are you so fucking hang up on this now out of all times?" He spits more so that questions.

"We're so close to catching Zeke and your team is close to doing so as well, I'm just worried." You admit, shyly loosening the clenched cover from your fist in fear of ripping it. "I want us to be a normal couple after this. I care about you."

Your mind is fogged with animalistic rage, yet you still manage to swallow it down, past that lump in the back of your throat that tik dangerously on your clock and threatens to burst. It's only when you try to show the nature of your thoughts and intentions that you watch Eren's face finally contort in rage that's much similar to yours. You fall back for a brief moment, allowing him to take advantage of the silence in the room to answer back to you.

"When I catch Zeke I'm not sparing him."

Eren lets the breath that's trapped in the depths of his chest out before it manages to suffocate him. Thinking about Zeke and how he's standing opposite to him makes him feel sick to the stomach, but he has accepted that it's only just his luck that his half brother happens to be working for the titans. Accepting that Zeke wants to collect all nine original titans for the syndicate to use as they wish has been a hard task to do so, he can admit to that much but he's swore to never let his connection to the man hold him back from putting an end to this misery.

"Eren don't be so stubborn." You plea, brows impossibly covering your eyes as your voice reeks of rage.

"I'm not, quit playing the rightful hero and maybe we can have this conversation when you'll be able to see things from my side."

He can see that you're drowning in your own words, fighting to find the right syllabuses to utter, but he refuses to give you any time, his own rage is ticking like a bomb, he can feel his stomach growling in the familiar numbness anger casts upon his organs and he knows he can't hold back.

"Do what you gotta do, but I'm ending them, I'll fight your team too if I have to get to what needs to be done."

"Oh yeah?" You let out an amused, angry chuckle before continuing "You'll fight me?"

"Gladly!" Eren spits, his eyes wide as his eyebrows twitch in determination.

"Don't say things you can't take back. Don't be an asshole."

"Last time I checked the definition of an asshole was someone who won't support their partner in their decisions, whether they agree with them or not."

You glance towards Eren's drawer, fuming to the point you struggle to control your powers. Your breath is refusing to regulate even if you beg for it to work the way you want it to, causing you to try and think of the most possibly rational plan to get your self out of this situation. You can't stand looking at Eren for the time being, any glance at his side is making you fume to the point your insides coil making you think you're going to start emitting smoke.

"Fuck! Fuck! You won't even try to understand me, I don't even know what I'm doing with you."

You have a small drawer filled with your clothes at Eren's place and he has one in yours. Convently, you've persuaded him to keep a superpower restraining collar in case either of you ever go out of control, which seems to be the case for you now. Eren's last words are poisoning you, burning their way inside your veins. Thus reaching the collar becomes your ultimate goal in the moment; you resent the extend in which your own powers can reach and you refuse to cause more drama by hurting Eren without intending to.

Your ears fall deaf to what Eren is fuming about, its necessary to try and keep ignoring him if you want to focus on completing this simple task. Your head is spinning, lost in the dark colored vertigo you've entered in your effort to focus on your goal. Pushing past it is vital in any case you want to prevent anything from happening. With the sudden swing of your wrist the drawer bursts open with force, the small amount of clothes inside are shot to the ceiling.

The metallic collar shines under the light as it stands proudly in the air as clothes continue to practically spill to any direction. Your stretched fingers make a half turn, as if signing the way to you to the object, your thumb shoting as far back as it can physically can go while your pinky stands inches away from the edge of your palm and your wrist. Your heart is hammering inside your chest for the remaining seconds it takes for the object to come to you and though, even if it's coming to you at full force and speed any passing moment feels like an eon.

You almost manage to sigh in relief as the metal touches tour throat but the action is cut short the moment your breath suddenly hitches reflexively. The collar fails to wrap around your throat and click in place, rather than that its resting in Eren's palm. The veins in his arm are twitching much expectly; he's using all of his force to hold the collar back, fighting your control over the object with his inhuman strength, still you won't let go of your hold either, not caring as to what is going to happen to the object, it won't last for long with all this strength force upon it, you're sure of that.

"If you want to me to respect you enough to fight with you, you won't enslave yourself with none of these fucking shits. Handle your powers on your own."

Your eyes are twitching, your forehead finally giving in to an endless amount of sweaty droplets. There's a throb mirrored by your pulse in the edge of your neck and you throw your head back in defeat before you even manage to think about it. The collar crumbles and smashes in Eren's palm under his grip, the metal cracking slightly as his skin twitches and burns in protest.

"I want us to be free of this, you think if get my hands dirty if it wasn't supposed to end in a way that I expected and calculated meticulously?"

Despite the fact that Eren is spitting those facts, you manage to distinguish the true intention of his choice of words, pushing past his harsh tone. It's unfair that you chose to anger him to such extend, you're angry as well but you come to realise that it's only because you are both afraid. Eren is afraid if losing you and his friends to the hands of another titan and you're afraid to lose Eren in the hands of his bloodlust. The collision between good or bad is only what you try to mask your fears with; what you see as bad and evil, Eren does so as well. Your perspective only changes as to how you view the means to reach the rightful good.

War can't exist without peace and peace can't exist without war.

You think back to what you told him earlier and in a snap you realise that for the time being, that's just about as normal as the two of you can get. An anti hero with his hands clenching a crushed power restraining collar, because he detests anything that strips people off their freedom and their given right to it, and a concerned superhero with her head thrown back in deafeat, giving up on trying to get a so called noble point across. In a way, both you and Eren have chosen this when you decided to take a shared path despite the fundamental differences on your beliefs.

And for a moment you think you're going to get past it. All couple have fights, all couples gets enraged with each other at least once in their span of time but they always manage to bounce back and stand on their feet next to each other. You're not exactly sure if Eren is standing right next to you or if he's opposed to you both literally and mentally but you relax back in the comforter thinking that you'll get an answer in a moment.

Eren's breaths are finally starting to regulate and he can't help but take notice of you slipping inside the comforter, your head hitting the pillow with a muffled thud. His long bangs are sprawled over his face, some fine chocolate hairs tingling the sensitive skin on his nose, some of their edges tickling at his fleshy lips. His mind is blurry, so blurry that he refuses to acknowledge the hand that is still clinging onto the collar, his posture is finally fixed on the bed before he decides to slide down in a movement so that he can lay right next to you.

"I'm sorry." He speaks first, his left hand forming into a fist as it lands on his forehead, pressing with its back on the throbbing veins and nerves that beg to release some of the tention they have gathered.

"I shouldn't have brought it up, it's my fault."

"Seems like we can't meet halfway when it comes to this." He hazes.

“No” 

Sighing, you sink further into the matress, raising your hand to mimic Eren’s actions to cover your face with the back of your hand. You chirp a little sound of misery as you do so, finding hard to swallow down through the knot that has formed in your throat.

"Is this it?" You ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper "Is this how it's going to be for us?"

"If you think I'm going to give up on my beliefs for you then I have some bad news."

Eren turns his head to you, sternly fixing his teal eyes in yours while his jaw is clenching, his bottom lip trembling and worrying as he chews on his words. A hitched sigh exits your nose as your eyes start burning I'm their attempt to hold back tears, the corners of your lips curving downwards causing your button lip to pucker sourly. You keep on staring at Eren and he keeps staring back at you, both of your chests heaving with short chopped breaths. You don't dare touch each other, not right now when you can't hold back your emotions, but you can definitely see how hurt he looks just as much as he can do the same for you.

"Well I can't turn my back on mine either." You choke, not daring to part your mouth enough for the words to exit correctly.

"Maybe you should just-" Eren opens his mouth, twitching out the words before he manages to mumble them "go."

The tears that threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes are finally flowing, running in burning hot streaks past your nose before landing cold onto your ear. You hate it, you hate the moist sensation on your cornch and you hate that Eren's eyes never fail to notice every single tiny droplet that fall from your lips.

His constipated expression won't scatter away from his face, rather than that it only hardens as he tried to hold back and onto those tiny pools in the corners of is eyes.

He wants to speak, you know because he keeps opening his mouth to do so, but the only sounds he emits are deep growls of pain. He doesn't know how to feel about them, you've seen him cry numerous times, yet this heartbreak seems so inevitably painful to endure on his own. It's another love he has to bid goodbye because of those godamn titans and it's even more painful that he knows that by annihilating them, he'll never be able to claim you as his anymore.

He'd rather clear the world for you to live peaceful and free though.

...

The sound of your fists colliding with the back leather of a boxing sack fills the air, bouncing in between the gray marble colored walls of the headquarters. The room you're in is soundproof, causing the sound to linger in the air as you pant, holding your sour spit in your mouth as you throw another punch and kick to the sack. Sweat drips from your forehead and onto the mat beneath you yet you make no movement in trying to wipe it off, you simply let it drip while picking up your foot in order to flip it onto the dummy.

"Easy there now"

When Jean's hand comes to rest on your shoulder giving you a little comforting squeeze, you jump on your spot, startled much by the sudden action. For a moment you avoid turning your head to face him; despite the amount of mellow warmth and comfort his touch provides you with, you don't feel like you can regulate that rush of adrenaline that pumps through your veins.

Your fists, numb by the raw force you've used to launch punches to the boxing sack before you are now inevitably frozen, hugging the dummy with enough strength to make it fall in place. As the sound of the metallic chain clashing fills the air your nostrils snort hot huffs of air, your eyes squinting shut as your brows remain furrowed to forbid any drop of sweat from running down to your face. Jean inspects your constipated expression as he moves around, taking small steps as he approaches you from this new position, finally coming to face you with an understanding smile.

"I noticed you're pushing your self a lot lately." He says, his hand coming to squeeze on your shoulder once again. He presses his lips into a thin line, the action making his straight nose scrunch slightly.

"It's fine." You snark "I could use some excessive combat training to be honest. Mikasa said you and her can help someday."

"Okay then! Let's spare now." Jean says enthusiastically and his hands come to his sides, his fists clenched as a smug expression appears on his face "Ditch the dummy."

Nonetheless you snicker in response. Bringing your finger to your temple, you awkwardly scratch on the tender skin at the tail of your eyebrow. Next, your hands come to your loose ponytail, giving a little tag at the elastic loop that's used to hold them in place, pulling it down to the ends of your hair.

"Sorry, not in the mood." You bite, but Jean is irritatingly not ready to give up on you just yet.

"Weren't you just splitting your knuckles, punching that sack? Like, a few seconds ago? Drop the emo attitude and show me what you got."

Kissing your teeth you bow down, aiming to go for the towel you've neatly folded on your foamy work out mat, taking it carefully in your hands in order to bring it to your sweat dripping face. While crossing his hands to his chest, Jean throws you his signature expression of disapproval -yes, the one he liked to throw at Eren while calling him a suicidal bastard and yes, if Mikasa, not just anyone, asked him he'd admit to having missed the particular interaction with your now ex boyfriend. The male sighs, parting his mouth open, ready to utter what he thinks will help you.

"If it helps, I've been saying Eren is a dick from the very start, I'm sorry you had to be convinced of the fact in such way."

Its your turn to throw him a disapproving look now.

Jean, similarly to the next person, knows how much you hate talking about /that/ fateful night with Eren. The wound is still fresh -whether or not it took place a few weeks ago, the pain of being ripped away from your lover over your ideals isn't a wound that's easy to close and additionally it's rather hard when you know nothing can come of an attempt to reconcile. But Jean can't just silently stand to watch you destroy your self and your relationships with people who care about you.

Each passing day you trade your words for mumbles and grunts, your signs of affection into powerful punches aimed either at that old black dummy you were hugging a few seconds or at a vast amount of metas during nighttime patrols. Knowing you and how you handle such outrages, Jean is sure that at this point you've smashed your fists against each and every single one of these gray marble colored walls, only holding back your self as to not smash Armin's tech corner. But before he gets a chance to shake his head in the slightest only to get ready to mouth his comfort speech to you, the automatic glass doors to the room open.

Turning his head around, Jean is met with Connie and Armin as they enter the room, both of them sparing him their most confused look upon inspecting the scene unraveling before them. Jean shrugs his shoulders, throwing his hands up in defeat, his eyes traveling quickly between you and his friends, signaling them you're proving to be difficult to deal with once again.

As the door behind him closes with a woosh Connie sucks on the inside of his cheek, trapping the tender gum between his teeth, his lips puckering slightly as he looks at you, his otherwise playful eyes now squinted in worry.

"What?" You speak, pressing your lips together and pushing them to the side of your face. Reluctantly, you cock a brow to Connie's direction.

"Me?" With his thumb to exaggerate the word, Connie points to himself and the proceeds to take a few steps towards Jean. Finally, he bends his hand, resting his fist over his hip, throwing his weight onto one leg. "You're the one with the constipated expression."

"Give me a break everyone" you shrug, shaking your head in defeat.

"Sasha said you pushed yourself too far last night during patrol."

"Yeah, so what?" You ask, batting your eyes to the male trio. You're probably as unamused as they are at this point.

You notice how Armin is the one to let out a sigh next, his blonde hair swaying by the force of air that exits his mouth. He's angrily clapping his foot to the ground while clenching his fists to his sides, his baby blue eyes fixated on you. You bring the top of your finger to your head, scratching the skin just below your ear, your foot awkwardly rocking back and forth. It's almost as if no one in the room can avoid the the upcoming conversation right now.

All Armin sees is that your lip is split, bruised much like your eyebrow and a part of your jaw. There's a lot of dried blood on each tiny wound, but the amount is enough to make up for the lack of proper patching and the sight is heartbreaking to the point it makes the blond's blood boil. If Armin could find it in himself to utter a word he would be able to name a good amount of reasons as to why he was enraged with you. One of them being the fact that you've been brutalizing yourself in the streets every night and another one that you've been definitely pushing yourself even more during training, aiming to shut yourself off of your team completely.

"Armin, if you have something to say, then just shoot it."

The way you poke at him is reluctant and nervous in nature. Your jaws clutch together, your shivering teeth making tiny chattering sounds. Armin parts his lips, placing a hand on the gray colored wall behind him, hanging his head down in nervousness. In all reality, he shouldn’t speak his mind, he knows that very well, his personal empathetic feelings for Eren don’t exactly have a reason to have an impact in this situation. Furthermore he’s simply the intel guy, the only member of the team in the team that doesn’t participate in any heroic or vigilantic activity. To interfere with your nightime business would probably harm him more than anyone in the end. As your friend he had to take a stance on what you were going through.

“We’ve all been hurt by Eren.” That’s all that Armin manages to say before putting his feet to work, matching silently to his computer corner, “But, that’s why we are a team. We’re supposed to hold each other when things go wrong. And you need us as much as we need you.”

Rubbing your eyes with your pointer fingers, you let out a deep sigh. When you look up Connie and Jean are half smiling at you, their thumbs pointing upwards and for a fragment of a second, you manage to crack a small smile. You feel your eyes burning slightly, their fleshy corners stinging, but you refuse to let yoyr tears flow now, despite being moved by your friends’ word and noble intentions you keep your emotional breakdown to yourself. You only hope the males are convinced by your small smile.

“Armin has the intel on Zeke’s cargo shipment!” Connie says and immediately his ribs are crushed by Jean’s elbow. “What?”

“Stupiid. We’re not supposed to stress her!”

“It’s fine guys, this is our job.”

Connie links his arm with yours, your sweaty skin littering his long sleeve shirt but he pays the action absolutely no mind, not as much as you at least, and then he proceeds to stick his tongue out to Jean. Jean twitches his eyebrow at him, seemingly irritated by his friend’s smug expression and picks up his feet, marching as fast as you do, trying to catch up. The playful atmosphere is lifting you up, you can definately feel your previous mood lighten by each passing second.

“Speak Armin!” Connie playfully dictates squeishing your elbow in the process.

Armin lets out a laugh, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose, his eyes glimmering under the bright blue light of the numerous screens.

“Fine, look,” he says clicking on a tab on the middle screen’s task manager The tab pops up, shining a bright white light thats making your eyes squint. Armin then clicks on some folders and signs at you to wait until the images load. When in turn they pop up, they reveal numerous hsots of the titans new hideaway. Some photos are showing Zeke and his gang standing before it, then entering it. You even catch a glimpse of Pieck, the flash of raven hair is much more evident now that shes standing between her blonde team members.

“Do we have the adress?” Jean asks and you can’t help but notice that the look in his eyes is darkening in an a mere instant.

“It’s in alleyway near the port. Although the front is standing proudly on a very well lit place in 6th Avenue.” You nod steadily, sliding your hand upwards to give a comforting touch to Connie’s fingers that are still linked to the inside of your elbow. “Levi gave me the intel to investigate, he came across them the other day and then he searched for security cameras, you know the drill.”

Jean raises his voice authoritatively and sternly as he points to some photos, informing Armin that he needs to investiagte the area around them and prompts you an Connie to do the same as well. He says that it’s necessary to know the area you’ll be oparating on in the following days. You simply nod, extending yor hand to Armin’s direction to point in which pictures you want him to send you and he does as you say not even giving it a second thought.

“Please don’t send them to Eren.”

You pretend to be shocked, but in reality you're not. You understand where Armin is coming from when he mouths the statement, but you assure him that you won't try to communicate with Eren for any reason. You're in no place to put yourself through such thing, not now, not until your job is done.

...

Pushing on his feet, Eren rushes all of his power to his heels, sending his self in the air. He takes a spin mid air, opening his arms wide on either of his sides after he grabs one the guns that rest on the cases that are tied to his breeches. He manages to grab a new line of bullets moments before he lands and he proceeds to shove it to the butt of the gun, the action sending the loud sound of metal colliding filling the air.

As expectedly, he lands on his feet. The annoying rush of his whole body weight on his heels doesn't bother him anymore, he's grown so used to it that it's become a routine. He throws a quickly glance behind him, making sure Flotch and Yelena are right behind him, running silently on their own pace, jumping from building to building.

"Yelena!" Eren shouts "I'm leaving Pieck and Porco to you. Go for the kill the moment you see an opening. And Flotch" he turns his head to the redhead, his voice reeked in authority even though it was muffled by his metallic helmet "Don't let any hero follow my tracks. No casualties. We're proving a point."

Flotch nods rapidly without uttering another word and spares a look to Yelena before they take turns to opposite directions. Eren continues to run straight ahead, his heavy combat boots clashing with various rooftops as he stomps on each one of them with force.

He immediately stops on his tracks as he catches a glimpse of blond hair in an alley. Peaking his head from the edge of a rooftop, he clicks on the side of his helmet, pushing the button that allowed the goggle feature in his helmet to activate.

Zooming in he sees you, your hands clad in an x above your head as you try to avoid the metallic rock like weapons Zeke is throwing at you with full force. Your left foot is thrown back, fully extended while your right leg is bent, your position providing stability as you try to push past and through Zeke's attack.

Through the distracting commotion, Zeke manages to get close enough to you and Eren watches as he lifts his left leg up, getting ready to clash it onto your head. Eren knows, Zeke's force can easily knock you out for several minutes; if he can break through walls with raw fists, Eren can't even phantom what the full capacity of his brute attack can do to your head.

Eren hisses to himself as he stands on his knees, clenching his fists to himself. Quickly enough the skin under his gloves hardens, forming an iron like material over his knuckles. He briefly makes sure they'd hard enough for the attack he has calculated in his mind by rubbing over his knuckles tenderly.

He inhales a good amount of air, his chest filling to the max as he tried on concentrating on his breathing. Regulating his heartbeat is important but he doesn't have enough time, Zeke is in the midst of throwing another wave of metallic rocks in your way. Suddenly Eren stands on his feet for a brief moment before proceeding to take a jump into the alleyway.

The next thing he knows is that his hardened fist lands exactly where he wanted to on Zeke's face, breaking his nose, the bone crashing and shattering making a horrid popping noise that echoes through the cobblestone walls.

His foot sets to find a way to your stomach, pushing a warning kick but with enough force to send you flying in the air, only for a short period of time though. Grunting, you land in a rooftop, clutching onto your pained stomach, coughing up a few breaths that were stuck in your chest upon impact.

Eren makes a fatal mistake; he turns his head to check up on you, momentarily letting down his guard as some form of guilt runs through him. The blond only manages to grasp onto that tiny fragment of his distraction.

Zeke is out of breath as he runs at his full capacity, counting down the seconds to make it to the end of the alley to escape Eren. Eren is fast, faster than the last time Zeke encountered him and slightly more buff, the blond can make out his muscles twitching in rage as he puts his weight onto the tips of his feet, running restlessly behind him. Eren grabs the spare gun that rests on his right thigh with one hand, the shiny spikes that decorate each side of the gun that could possibly land on him at any given moment dazzling him.

Deciding he can't avoid Eren for too long -hes practically right behind him at the very moment- Zeke turns on his feet and sets his right foot behind his left one, tightening his fists as he feels strength rush through his body.

Eren jumps onto him first delivering the first blow, careful not to take the fist that is aimed to him. He bucks down for a split second, avoiding Zeke's second blow and jumps, splitting his feet so that his left leg collides with Zeke's jaw. The blonde leaves a grunt of pain through his mouth, falling back in haze.

With a mid air spin, Eren lands a few meters away from Zeke. He wastes no time in allowing Zeke to catch his breath; he jumps, knee first to deliver a second kick, thought this time it fails to cause the damage he wants. Zeke catches him by the knee the moment he runs into him, gripping with animalistic force, managing to clash the iron kneecap Eren wears for protection.

Zeke lets out a scream as he lands his fist fiercely on Eren's helmet, successfully breaking a hole in it, the kevlar enhanced plastic helmet making a huge shattering sound, its pieces falling anywhere to the concrete ground bellow, some other smaller ones digging their way into Eren's skin.

The act enrages Eren; he backs away bringing his glived fist to wipe on what he figures is blood that's running from his lip. He watches as Zeke takes the chance to turn on his tracks to leave but he resents the act, he bucks slightly to his knees and proceeds to run full speed in his direction, his ultimate goal setting on tackling his brother.

"You're not getting away." Eren spits angrily.

"You've been practicing on your heroic puns haven't you little brother?" Zeke doesn't turn his head back to face Eren, the end of the alley is only a few meters away now, and he'd like to think that he can make it.

The elbow that crushes onto his face and send him in a momentary haze though does definitely belong to Eren. One because despite the vertigo that engulfs him, he can still hear Eren's iron clad footsteps and two because his body never hits the ground when the elbow detaches from his face.

"Where are you running off to Beast?"

Looking up with half lid eyes Zeke smiles a crooked line with his lips, nodding his head to greet you. You huff through your nose with determination, tightening the fist of your hand, causing Zeke to feel squished by the invisible grip you have on him. He squirms in place kicking his feet and expanding his palm.

"Are you here to save me from your lover boy?" Zeke bites at you loudly and your eyes quickly follow Eren's running form, noticing how his helmet is cracked open. Even if it angers you to see him, you try not to let it show right now. It would only take a tiny slips up for Zeke to manage and take the opportunity to outsmart you and challenge you into a physical battle.

"You're not getting away this time, nice try." You shout, freezing his feet with the slightest move of your hand.

Unexpectedly, Eren jumps, gripping Zeke's foot and hanging from it, tagging at the limb with all force. The eye that isn't masked by his helmet is definitely fixed onto you, worrying its glimmer into your soul. You despairately try to brush it off.

Shaking your head you look around to find anything in which you can move Zeke to help Eren land onto. The ground doesn't seem like a good option, Zeke is smart enough to know you can't last long if you have to let go of the mental grip you're forcing on him. You panic as you figure out that he soon will realise your grip on him is able to wobble enough for him to beat your control over him.

"Hand him over (y/n)." Eren screams in your direction, batting his eye to your direction.

You notice Zeke squirming into your grasp as horrified expression proceeds his face. His eyebrows point upwards causing strong rolls of skin to appear on his forehead, his lips curl down in worry and his eyes widen to their max.

"Can't do that!" You turn to Zeke, shooting him a reassuring look, letting him know you wouldn't allow his assassination before your very eyes.

You only understand how foolish you've been to do so when you watch Zeke take a deep breath. Initially you assume he wants to fill his lungs with oxygen due to your harsh grip and you slowly process in your mind the possibilities of what can happen if you chose to loosen your hold on him. It's only when Zeke lets out an eardrum piercing screech that you curse under your breath feeling your mental grip growing weak. Zeke throws you a sorry smile, startling you enough to take a wrong footing on the brick rooftop you're standing on.

You feel your powers flicker even more, to the point it reminds you of a dying flame but you refuse to believe you've reached the end of your potential use of your own meta ability. You pay no attention to Eren and his momentarily twitching as you try to focus on catching your breath. All it should take is a moment, all you need is a moment to calm down your pounding heart and then-

Bam! Bam! Bam!

You sense Zeke slipping away from you unexpectedly and your mouth falls agape, your hands rushing to your ears, despairate to offer protection and and comfort to the buzzing pain you're feeling. Glancing around you notice Eren swirling his gun in his thigh case, smoke emitting from the small opening of the gun, the smell of gunpowder tingling in your nostrils. Even if you're hazy you immediately understand what has happened; Eren's bullets, following Zeke's coordinate scream sent warning shots to his comrades, letting them know of his exact location and if you could guess correctly, giving them information on his situation.

"AH!" Zeke screams in agony, averting your gaze to the commotion that starts to go down on the concrete ground as the Yeager bothers land forcefully on it. Eren's gun is smashed to his brother's head, the iron spikes splitting his cheek open upon impact.

"No!" Your eyes widen as you scream, your body moving to take a quick leap down the side of the rooftop, send bricks to stray into the air as you slide down onto them.

Eren's fists are bouncing quickly onto Zeke's head and torso, taking turns to avoid being overworked. Your eyebrow is twitching automatically, your head is practically on fire, your veins popping and flowing with hit throbs and painful sudden rashes of blood. Eren won't react to your screams, you assume his own adrenaline is covering up the sound of your voice for him.

You land right on top of Eren, sending him in collision with Zeke, crashing his jaw onto his brothers chest. The males let out pained mutters, cursing under their breaths as you push your body weight harder onto them.

"Eren don't do this."

You take Eren's torso into your arms, using as much strength as you can manage to press his back into your chest. You ignore the way your heart painfully spreads up, similarly to the way a schoolgirl's at the sight of her crush, you resist the urge to rest your head on Eren's shoulder from the back like you would have done had the circumstances been any different. You only squeal as you try to transfer all your strength to your hands, your feet giving in and your chest heaving as you try to pull Eren even further into you.

"Get off of me." Eren screams thrashing his hands around with enough strength to shoo your grip on him away.

"No!" You chatter, squinting him even more. "You're not killing your own brother."

"Fucking hell, let me go."

Your hand mechanically searches for Eren's thigh even though your vision is still blurry. You're practically ravaging him with one hand for a few seconds, despairately clinging onto whatever resembled the touch of a gun.

"I'm not going to let you do this." You say, pressing him further into you, your heart basically hammering in its skeleton binds.

If Eren believes the guy with gun is always right in a fight, you have to point a gun at him to prove his own point to him. Right?

You clad your arms under his arpits, securing your grip onto the top of his shoulder as you manage to flick him off, balancing his weight onto both your knees. With a jump, you land on your wobbly feet, your iron clad heels making loud thuds as you jolt your body slightly to Eren's direction. Your wrist flicks, signing to Zeke's hands and consecuentially they come together, seemingly tied up by invisible imaginary bounds.

A harden expression masks your face as you point the edge of the gun to Eren, pushing it mere inches away from his face, the cold metal flushing with the outside parts of his helmet.

"Take it off, slowly." You order, your stern eyes never bowing the the puppy like eyes Eren is pointing at you. "I'm the guy with the gun, if you're smart you do as I say." You turn your face to the right, now pointing directly to Zeke. "You too Beast."

Under any other circumstance you would have felt your heart melt at the sight to your left; bellow his helmet Eren is battered, bruised and he's glistering with swear and grease -you assume it's from the creaks of his head cover- this sight should be enough for you to throw the gun away from your hand, or destroy it with your powers.

Eren hisses as his hands move to click on the securing buttons of his helmet, the lightweight iron thrashing into more pieces as it comes undone, the damage it had undergone seemingly unredeemable. You sighed internally, Eren has more than a dozen of them back at his place, so replacing this one wont be an issue, fortunatelly. Your hard eyes never leave him, his own turqouise orbs fixating on you the moment his helmet is put to the ground. His hands shoot up in defeat, his palms extended as he stares at you with an annoyed expression.

“Fine? Got what you wanted?”

“Eren!” you utter, stomping your foot to the ground.

You don’t realise at first -yet it doesn’t slip Eren- but the gun is quaking in your hand. With your trembling hand mere inches before him, it’s hard not to notice in the end, but he spares you of the embarassment for a second, he focuses on how to get himself out of this situation first.

“Sorry, babe.” Eren smiles at you, using his feet to flip himself off of the ground, pushing his weight onto his torse for his feet to levitate off the ground. Shook and thrown off by his sudden act, the gun in your hand slips and you squeal, yur grip on Zeke unfocusing as your powers dictate Eren to come to an halt midair. His body thrashes down to the ground, grunts of agony coming out of his chest.

It happens before you even have a chance to blink; your powers are weakened, Eren screams an ear piercing screech and Zeke starts running towards your direction. Multiple bangs echo through the air and you don’t even have a chance to look up to pinpoint where their source lays, your neck is looped on the inside of an elbow but at this point all you can see is black and white as your ears ring dangerously.

“Zeke! Let her go!” Eren screams, his eyes pacing between Zeke and the new additions to the scene, Flotch and Yelena. They both point their guns to Zeke’s direction, panting and Eren is panting as well, his mouth running miles ahead of his brain. He knows he’s in a sticky situation, left unarmed hen Zeke has managed to grab the gun you dropped, shot on the left bicept, but it’s nothing compared to you

Thick crimson fell in gushes from your head, sipping slightly to the cavity at the edge of your mouth, rushing down the painful path to your neck. Your costume seeped in it, the cloth furiously sipping like a hungry vampire as more blood run over it. Eren didn't dare move his hands, only his real orbs paced between his team members, remaining wide open, despairate to light up in any frail solution he could think of.

"If I let her go, you'll let me take my leave."

Eren's brain throbbed, the coiling cavities swelling and shrinking. He examined the possibilities and went over his options like a madman, there were a few ways in which he could entrust Zeke's extermination to Yelena and Flotch, he could even manage to grab you in the midst of it and bring you to safety. The bullet Zeke has shot towards you hadn't planted its way into your head, it had only scratched over the surface, he should be able to stop the bleeding if he could manage to bring you to safety.

If he was completely honest, he could have numerous opportunies to kill Zeke, he couldn't bring you back though in any case you died.

"Fine." He said, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Get it your way."

"No funny games brother."

With a piercing look thrown at Yelena, Eren leaped a step towards Zeke. The blonde and the redhead lowered their guns pointing their cranes to the cobblestone ground. Eren's iron enhanced footsteps filled the teeny alleyway but they came to an halt as soon as they began. Zeke brought a hand to his nose, pinching the tip slightly despite the fact that his glasses had been shattered to pieces his digits still went for his habitual action of fixing them on his diaphragm.

When Zeke's footing dug into the ground, the material screeching from the intense friction Eren widened his eyes. With your head in his palm he rushed into the wall, blood drenched (h/c) tresses sticking onto his tan skin. With a huge thud he smashed your head against the wall, a roar blurting its way out of the depths of his chest. Then, his feet made the best out of their existence, running as fast as they could, if these were his last moments, at least he caused some mayhem and pain to live up to his reputation.

Eren didn't even have a chance to jump into the commotion in time yet he leaped on your side with your name falling out of his lips in the form of a scream. With no need to be commanded to Yelena and Flotch raised their guns at Zeke, shooting while launching on his direction, leaving Eren and your unconscious body behind.

...

"There's no hope for us right?"

You were dying.

Sprawled over a gray cement built rooftop that paid homage to Trost's biggest neon sign you were taking your last few breaths. And Eren was the only one to blame.

You laid rested on his lap, his hand frozen over the roots of your hair as he felt how tangled they felt with all the dried blood on them. Electric blue neon light fell over his shoulders in the mellowest way, creating a halo over his body, his messy hair and all of its stray strands sticking out as the contrasted the light.

"I'm sorry I brought you here at a moment like this. But since you always said you wanted us to hang out here"

Eren paused to sniffle the little goo at the tip of his nose. A burning sensation in his chest chocked him, it crushed his lungs under an iron grip, the splash of blood and flesh echoing inside his torso. His stomach fell and repositioned itself, his gut churned, his eyes solidified pain in the form of hot, salty tears.

"I couldn't think of anything else."

There wasn't any hope for you. Your skull was cracked open beyond saving, your forehead was jabbed and crushed, your eye bloody and scarlet where bright white should have been. Your nose was broken and crooked. It was only a matter of sorrowful moments before life left your body but Eren couldn't bring himself to help you into descenting faster into the light.

"You probably can't even listen to me. But I love you, always did, always will. I never meant what I said that night. About not knowing why I was with you."

Tears ran down his face, his chest quacking in endless sobs that he tried to muffle. But he couldn't help it, despite having grown into a silent nonchalant adult, he still couldn't push past the hurt if losing someone that close to him. Whatever facade he had ever tried to put on himself was crumbling down in seconds before you, right in this very moment.

"Levi's on his way to take you to a hospital." He announced, yet he doubted you could listen. His hands wiped furiously at his stinging and painful tears. The drops of blood that entered his eyes made him hiss even further.

A bloody palm came to cup under your jaw, and Eren hissed as he felt the bone going stiff. He refused to believe it, he refused to believe your mouth had locked, he refused to believe it was happening. For all that matters he didn't want this to be your last shared moment.

From afar he could see Levi and his former friends approaching, the sound of sirens complimenting the background as the neon sign started buzzing and flickering behind him. When Levi finally stepped his foot to your direction he spoke no word, much like the rest of the team, except for Mikasa who shot him a comforting glare and a pat on the forearm.

Eren watches as Levi checked for your pulse and took you over his back, your body laying numb over his own. He spoke no words as he watched the man pull away and roam between buildings before disappearing. As the neon sign behind him made a chirpy, electronic voice and spurt a few sparks of quickly dissolving fire three more hands came to rest on his shoulders. Jean, Connie and Sasha had all silently tried to seek for a way to comfort him, confiding into mimicking Mikasa. 

 Eren knew he wouldn't ever have the chance to see you illuminated by the cobalt neon light again.

Taglist: @levisbrat25 @nobody-knows-anymore @callmepromise @melancholicmonologue @ladyofpandemonium @alrightberries

Super special thanks to my baby @sasageyowrites and my dear @aichiin (if you don’t check out her art i will be mad!)

[lyricalporcupine]

Talking about how much they love the other to friends/family pls 😊

Here ya go! I did both Yasha and Beau and there is a time skip. I also got carried away with Beau’s part so oops lmao

~~~

“You’re such a fucking sap,” Molly cajoled.

Yasha smirked and shoved her friend, causing him to stumble a bit on the street. He laughed as he regained his balance and turned around to face Yasha, walking backwards without regard to the other people.

“It’s true, darling,” he drawled with his own smirk.

Yasha felt herself flush and knew her face was red to the tips of her pointed ears. “She makes me happy,” Yasha said simply with a shrug and soft smile.

“Ugh,” Molly exclaimed, turning with a flourish that allowed Yasha close the small distance between them to allow them to walk side by side again. “Why?”

Yasha’s soft smile grew. “She’s strong. She’s really funny. She’s smart as hell. She’s honest,” Yasha said with a chuckle, “even if it hurts.”

“She’s an asshole,” Molly countered, to which Yasha laughed.

“I like that she’s an asshole,” Yasha said with a shrug.

Molly smirked at her. “You would.”

Yasha bumped his shoulder and he bumped hers in return.

“Anything else,” Molly asked after a few moments. “What else attracts you to the grumpy one?”

Yasha was silent for a while, hands shoved into her coat pockets. She was quiet for so long that Molly figured she wasn’t going to answer. But then, softly, Yasha said, “She makes me feel safe.”

Molly stared up at his friend. He knew exactly what that meant for her and how important it was. He finally realized that, to Yasha, Beau meant something so precious to her. Something Yasha had been looking for for years that Molly himself had tried to give her. Beau, to Yasha, meant home.

He huffed, his breath drifting up in front of him as steam in the cold air. He linked his arm through Yasha’s and pushed into her side. “You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

Yasha gave a small nod. “So much.”

Molly heaved a dramatic sigh. “Does this mean I can’t tease her anymore,” he asked with a pout.

Yasha chuffed. “She’d probably think you were sick if you didn’t bicker.”

“Well I am all about keeping up appearances,” he said with a self important sniffle.

Yasha laughed outright. “You’re an asshole,”’she said with all the affection she could muster for the tiefling. Which was quite a lot.

“Yes, I am,” he agreed happily. Then he smiled up at her. “But you like assholes. Remember?”

Yasha smirked down at him before kissing him on his horn. “Yes, I do.”

~~~~~~

It was a rare event that Beau visited her parents. She hated doing it, mostly because of her father. But she went, at least once a month, just to see TJ. Beau’s disdain for her parents wasn’t his fault and Beau hoped, that by spending time with him that he wouldn’t pick up their shitty attitude. As the years trudged on, TJ, thankfully, didn’t seem to be anything like their father.

Instead, much to their parents’ chagrin, TJ had instead picked up his sister’s mannerisms, quick wit, and snark. And as a pre-teen, it was only getting worse. Or better, if you asked Beau, who encouraged him.

Despite this, their parents would allow TJ to visit his sister for a week or so, mainly during the summer while school was out. He’d pack a bag and all but run to her car when she showed up and throw himself at her.

Now they sat on the floor of Beau and Yasha’s living room, playing a racing game TJ brought with him. They were neck and neck, tied in their wins. This was the last race and as

Beau was poised for a victory, Yasha walked out of the bedroom and kissed the top of Beau’s head, which caused her to completely forget the game and crash into a wall as she turned her attention to her fiancé.

“I’m meeting Molly,” she said as she checked her purse. Yasha wore a sun dress, something she didn’t often wear, and turned to smile at Beau and TJ when he turned to look at her after crossing the finish line. “I’ll be back later. I was thinking burgers for dinner?”

TJ’s face lit up. “And milkshakes,” he asked hopefully.

Yasha smiled and walked over to ruffle his slightly curly and very shaggy hair. “Only if you let Beau win,” Yasha teased.

“Oh, nevermind then,” he said and turned back to the tv.

“You little asshole,” Beau said with a laugh.

“Beau!”

“What,” Beau asked defensively. “He knows I’m kidding!”

“I know she’s kidding,” TJ echoed.

Yasha sighed and bent to kiss Beau. “Behave,” she said as she headed for the door.

An echo of “No!” followed her out the door.

Beau and TJ smiled at each other as he picked a new game and Beau set her controller aside, content to watch him play.

“Dad says you’re engaged,” TJ said as he got up and shuffled through his games. He looked over at Beau as she relocated to the couch.

“Yuppers,” she replied. “I was gonna talk to you about that, actually.” She smiled at him and asked, “Want to be a ring bearer?”

“I can’t be your best man,” he asked with a grin.

Beau laughed and raised up her arm, flattening her hand, palm down. “Sorry, you gotta be be at least this tall.”

He glared and flipped her off. She only laughed harder which caused him to smile. “Sure, I can be a ring bearer.”

“Excellent,” Beau said. “Yasha will be thrilled I finally asked.”

“When’s the wedding,” he asked as he finished picking a game and came to sit beside his sister, picking up his controller on the way.

“Next fall,” Beau answered. “Yasha likes the colors.”

“Neat,” TJ replied. “You and Yasha have been together a long time.”

Beau chuckled. “You sound like my friends. They think it’s overdue.”

TJ shrugged. “Maybe they’re right.”

Beau shrugged back. “Eh, we got there in the end. All that matters.”

“You inviting Dad,” TJ asked.

“Well if you and Mom are gonna be there, kinda have to invite the old man, too,” Beau said.

“I could accidentally on purpose break his leg so he has to stay home,” TJ offered.

Beau laughed. “Then you and Mom would have to stay home and take care of him.” She gave him a sideways smile. “Thanks for the offer, though, little brother.”

“Anytime,” he said with a laugh. “So, who asked who?”

Beau smiled and flashed her left hand and waggled her fingers until TJ turned to look at the small blue diamond on her ring finger. “She did.”

TJ looked at the ring then up at is sister. “She has poor taste.”

Beau’s mood fell a bit. “Like you’re some ring expert.”

“Not the ring,” he said. “You.”

Beau made a squawking noise and shoved TJ’s shoulder. “Fuck you!”

He laughed as he fell onto his side. “Fuck you, back!” He never paused in his game.

TJ eventually sat back and smiled. “So,how did you know?”

“How did I know what,” Beau asked.

“How did you know she was ‘the one,’” he asked, laying his controller down to air quote.

Beau smirked. “Really want to know? It’s sappy shit.”

TJ shrugged. “I mean. I did ask.”

“Fair.” Beau repositioned herself and draped her leg over the couch arm. “I always thought she was hot, ya know?”

“She is very pretty,” TJ cut in.

Beau smirked. “I’ll be sure to tell her you said that.”

TJ whipped around to face Beau, his dark skin turning darker with a blush. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

Beau laughed and gently nudged him. “Don’t be a shit and maybe I won’t.” TJ pouted at her and Beau laughed harder. “Anyway. She’s always been hot. And she’s sweet as hell. A literal fucking angel, ya know?”

TJ was nodded like he did, in fact, know.

“But there was a moment, so fucking small, that sealed the deal,” Beau said with a dreamy sigh.

“What was it,” TJ asked, finally pausing his game and turned to Beau, wholly focused on her and the story now.

“We’d been dating for a few months,” Beau continued. “And while out doing some errands, we decided, on a whim, to stop at this antiques store. Nothing there caught my eye,” Beau said before quickly standing and heading over to a bookshelf next to the tv. It held books, of course, but also a few knick knacks. Beau reached for a small clay figurine of a dog, one of a set of five, and turned back to TJ.

“She bought this set of dog figures,” Beau said, a dopey grin on her face. “She had been so excited to have found them. As excited as if they’d been real dogs.” Still holding the figure, Beau walked back over to the couch and sat down and handed the dog to TJ to look at. “You don’t really remember, cause you were still pretty little, but Yasha used to be really standoffish. She was quiet and didn’t talk much.” Beau smiled at her brother. “You fell in love with her immediately, nearly forgetting all about me when we came to visit.”

TJ blushed at Beau’s words.

Beau smiled warmly at him. “That was one of the first times she really came out of her shell.” Beau’s eyes slid shut as she recalled the memory, a large grin on her face. “She was so beautiful in that moment.” Beau’s eyes opened but she didn’t seem to really see TJ in front of her, still lost in her memories. Then she blinked and her eyes focused. “It was one of the cutest fucking things I’d ever seen. The way she lit up, little brother. Brighter than the sun.

“That’s when I knew I would spend the rest of my life with her.”

She smiled at her brother, who simply stared back. He finally handed back the clay dog and nodded. “You were right.”

Beau took the figure and cradled it to her chest. “About what?”

“It really was sappy shit.” Then he smiled at her.

Beau launched from her spot and tackled him, lightly pinching his shoulder as she sat on him.

They eventually came apart, laughing and sweaty from their tussle. Beau put the figure back on the shelf, grateful it didn’t break, and sat back on the couch. TJ went back to his game and they were content in their silence.

Finally TJ said, “I’m really happy you have Yasha. And I’m happy she has you, too.”

Bea smiled and ruffled TJ’s hair. “And I’m happy you’re here, too. We both love you.”

“Ugh,” TJ groaned. “Stop.”

Beau laughed and turned back towards the tv, happy with how her life had shaped up to be.