#side note. absolutely fucking wild that i got back into this show my first year of dental school

[fuckspn]

after this episode i'll officially be halfway done with s15. also FUCK YEAH GARTH

[bby-bo]

When the Boss Comes Knocking pt. 2

the love on part one has been so wild ❤️ thank you guys sm for reading, I hope this drags you on an even wilder emotional rollercoaster than last time 🤠🤠

I sure as fuck have no proper explanation for my actions here, brace yourselves.

Summary: Sakusa knows he screwed up, but he’s quick to get on his knees to work for your forgiveness.

Warnings: solid combo of angst, fluff, and smut, reader is all over the place, Sakusa eating p*ssy 🫶🏼

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

The note had sat on your desk for 3 days, staring you down with the heat of hell tucked into the ink scratched on the paper.  It was Friday, the day the Sakusa Group was to officially purchase the small publishing house you wrote for, but the man himself had yet to show up since your last encounter.  

3 painfully slow days of no contact or sign of Sakusa had felt like 3 years, and you couldn’t help but feel angry. Angry that he thought he could come back into your life at his own convenience, with no explanation of his leaving for so long. Upset that you wanted him to come back. Pissed at yourself for letting him treat you like this. 

The back and forth in your own brain was clouded by the memories of him, one hand on your throat and one in your hair, pulling you in. The look of satisfaction on his face when you finally called him by his first name again. The sweet bliss of his deep voice directed at you. It was inescapable even on your morning commute to work. 

Opening the door to the lobby, you greeted Josie as always. 

“Morning Josie”

“Oh good morning! There was a message left for you, actually. Mr. Sakusa’s secretary called and mentioned setting up a lunch meeting today around 1 pm.” 

Surprise and irritation shot through the fog in your brain. He couldn’t even call you himself?? His behavior was getting ridiculous, and at this point you were going to completely miss the next 4 deadlines for the book you were working on if this distraction kept up.

“What?! Don’t respond please, I’ll just eat lunch here like usual” A guilty blush immediately spread across her face and you just dreaded whatever she was about to say.

“Um… I already scheduled it. Sorry! It felt like maybe you guys got along last time since you spoke for so long in your office and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to-”

“What??? Josie NO!” Complete horror washed across you like an ice bath, and you immediately realized that you were not dressed for a CEO level lunch date. 

“I’m sorry to spring it on you like this. But hey, at least he’s sending a car to bring you, right?” She finished her sentence with a bright smile, totally not understanding why this was the absolute worst thing in the world. 

You gave her a fake laugh and a smile, trying not to be too mean to her in your mind before heading straight into your office and slumping into the seat. 

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

The note stared back at you, and you narrowed your eyes at his name. Fuck. Off. Sakusa. If he wanted to play this game, you certainly weren’t going to make it easy on him. 

You had no time to let the regrets from your last encounter stew when time was not on your side today.  Stealing your nerves, you got to thinking of all the things you’ve been wanting to say to him, all the things you’ve been dying to ask.  But time raced against you, and when Josie knocked on your office door it felt as though no time had passed at all. You were still just as nervous as before, but an unfamiliar man in a suit followed behind Josie, ready to take you to your demise- a.k.a the Sakusa Group headquarters. 

It was 45 steps from your office to the car, 30 minutes in the car between offices, and now only 10 steps from the car into the massive lobby of the tower where the beast resided.  Someone greeted you straight away, and escorted you all the way to Sakusa’s door.

Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Your mind and heart were racing, but you took in a deep breath and reminded yourself to resist his efforts to win you over. Yea right, resist the irresistible. Great plan.

The door opened, and there he was. Goddamn this was going to be more difficult than you thought. 

Sakusa’s deep voice rang out, smooth and rich like dark chocolate. His usual black button down and slacks made him the picture of all your work romance fantasies- not that you were thinking of anything like that. Certainly not.

“Thank you George, you may go.” Your escort bowed in respect, and closed the door on his way out. Sakusa said nothing, just smirked as he stood and walked toward the door, and locked it. 

You stood frozen, feeling the heat of his chest warming your back. A large hand brushed your hair away from your face on one side, exposing your neck as Sakusa planted a soft kiss beneath the corner of your jaw, letting his breath tickle over your skin. You could just feel the smirk widening across his face. But as much as your knees were already growing weak, your anger refused to be forgotten this time. 

Your figure’s sharp turn cut his growing smile off into a small frown, those dark brows furrowing slightly.

“Stop that. You owe me an explanation and I won’t let you near me until I get it.” Your voice was shaky, but you got your words out clearly. 

Sakusa just closed the space between you again, towering over you with slight irritation on his face. This was obviously not how he expected this meeting to go. 

“What is with these horrible greetings each time we meet? I’ll teach you this lesson as many times as I need to-”

“YOU were the one who told me not to call you Kiyoomi all those years ago, so don’t gimme that bullshit!! You don’t get to break up with me, be a total dick during our last conversation, disappear with no contact then return into my life like nothing happened years later! There is absolutely no way I can accept anything you offer me when you have completely shattered the very foundation of our relationship, Sakusa!”

The pent up energy, anxiety and ire that had slowly been collecting in your heart and mind this week was at its boiling point, finally spilling over as angry tears gathered in your eyes, your finger jabbing into his chest. 

His demeanor changed entirely as he listened to your rant, and a serious look crept over his face, but he made no move to interrupt you. Even now, when you were so worked up that you couldn’t see straight, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to push him away or wanted to cry into his arms. He let you finish before speaking. 

“So this is how you’ve been feeling. Come here, sweetheart.” 

Simple acknowledgement was all it took for your tears to fall, and strong arms gave you comfort as he tucked your head beneath his chin. His fingers stroked your hair, and that damn cologne filled your senses as you tried to contain your emotions.

He brought his palms to your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the salty tears beneath your eyes as his gaze softened into something you’ve missed so desperately since high school. His tone was serious but gentle as he spoke his next words.

“I know you’re angry, yes?” You nodded aggressively, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I hear you. I want you to look at me sweetheart, tell me how I can make it up to you. What can I do to fix this?” 

“I don’t know if this can be fixed Sakusa, I thought you just walked off and forgot about me after high school and I-”

“You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“If I’m wrong then prove it! Some explanation, anything is better than the nothing you left me with!”

Sakusa let out a heavy sign before pushing his hands into the roots of your hair, and kissing your forehead. He took your hand, fingers intertwined with yours as you swiped at the last of your tears. 

“It doesn’t excuse the way that I’ve treated you, and I sure as fuck am not proud of it but I can give you an explanation. Let’s sit while we talk, yeah?”

You followed him into a connecting room, a dining room of sorts, complete with cushioned seats and a glass coffee table. Sakusa settled in a seat next to yours and turned to set his serious gaze on you, so you might understand his sincerity.

His chest expanded as he took a deep breath, and released it slow.

“My family has always been demanding, and I knew their wish for me was to take over the Sakusa Group as early as possible. But I was young and dumb, and I didn’t have the confidence that I could actually do it. I know it’s no excuse for leaving you like that, but I was scared to fail. Disappointing you was something I couldn’t handle, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could become someone worthy of taking care of you one day. So I made sure to cut ties and cut them sharp so that if I did fail, you would hopefully never find out.”

This… this was not what you expected. Had he always been so concerned with your judgment of him? Why did he not let you support him? You had every confidence in your Kiyoomi back then, and you had always tried your best to show that, so why..? Did you not tell him enough? How could you ever possibly be disappointed in him?

“I didn’t forget what I said to you back then. I’m sorry I was so selfish, sweetheart.”

Tears threatened to spill over again, and you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes. There was a soft shuffling sound and the scraping of a chair across the hardwood, and when Sakusa tugged your wrists from your face he was kneeling before you. Still tall enough on his knees to be nearly eye level with you. 

“Don’t cry baby, look at me.” His fingers tucked beneath your chin, raising your head slightly. 

“Tell me what I wanna hear. Come on love” You knew what he wanted immediately. 

“Kiyoomi” Your voice was just above a whisper, but enough understanding was translated in that one word. Not quite forgiveness, but understanding. 

This had always been a thing between you two, even in high school. When first names were used after an argument, you could both recognize that things were back on the right path. So it wasn’t quite forgiveness, but it was a step. 

“Again.” But he was still just as greedy as ever. Gripping your chin a bit tighter, he brought his face right up to your neck and softly nipped at the skin on your jaw, tongue laving over the skin to sooth it.

“Kiyoomi”

“That’s my girl. Now, how should I make it up to you, hm?” His hands gripped your thighs just above your knees, squeezing into the flesh.

The tone of his voice switched, dripping with honey and saturating your mind with memories of twisted sheets and bated breaths. 

“I think I know just where to start” Shit, that voice. You were sure it would be the death of you one day, but right now, it was your lifeline. 

One of his thumbs hooked under the hem of your dress, baring one thigh ever so slowly, as his other hand guided your fingers into his hair. His gaze held yours as he began to kiss and bite a trail upwards following the exposed skin. 

If there was one thing your romance readers raved about, it was the smut that some of your books contained. But you could hardly claim any credit when your inspiration for those scenes came from Kiyoomi. The Kiyoomi who loved seeing you flustered and blushing beneath him, hand around your throat and embarrassment crawling up your cheeks. Loved seeing tears of overstimulation roll down so he could lick them away. That was this Kiyoomi, the one that knelt before you now.  

A hard bite on the inside of your thigh brought you back down to earth, a yelp of surprise escaping as your eyes snapped open.

“Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me.” You nodded as you tried to catch your breath, small bits of air coming out in light pants. 

Pushing your dress all the way around your waist, Kiyoomi gripped your ass roughly with both hands and tugged your body to the edge of your seat, legs thrown over his broad shoulders. His eyes closed as he turned to bury his face into the thickness of one of your thighs, fingers dipping into the waistline of your panties. He watched completely enamored as he pulled them off your body, the evident wet spot sticking to the source of your arousal. 

In one quick movement, he sat back on his heels and rid you of your panties entirely before settling back in on his knees. Two thick fingers swiped at your slit, gathering the stickiness there and bringing it to your mouth. 

“Open.” You did as he asked without hesitation, and you could taste the saltiness on the pads of his fingers as he pressed down on your tongue. But you knew better than to wrap your lips around his fingers- knew to wait for instruction. His smirk returned in full as he realized you hadn’t forgotten his rules.

“Suck.” 

His grip around your thigh tightened as you obeyed. Taking his fingers from your mouth, he pressed them back at your entrance, teasing you up and down as he finally, finally, brought his mouth to your clit. His tongue circled the nerves as he watched your eyes roll back, your mouth open just slightly. 

Now Kiyoomi was never a religious man, but he would’ve prayed to any god to never forget this sight. Legs open for him, pretty face silently begging him to touch you. He wanted it permanently imprinted in his memory, wanted it to be the only thing he saw every time he closed his eyes. His control snapped.

Fingers plunged forward into you and Kiyoomi was lost in your tight heat as he set a quick pace, teeth tugging lightly on your clit before circling it with his tongue over and over again. He still knew your body so well even after so much time had passed, and he knew exactly how to drive you over the edge. 

“O-omi” 

“Hm?” He refused to pull his face away from your sweet pussy, humming against you in response, sending light vibrations that tickled up your spine.

“G-gonna cum Omi” His fingers curled upward and hit that spongy spot, as he pulled his mouth away for just a moment to respond. He pressed a thick forearm down across your hips, not letting you escape.

“Go on baby, cum in my mouth. Wanna taste you” 

Kiyoomi shoved his tongue inside you, nose buried right up against that sensitive bundle of nerves as he reached up to fill your mouth with the fingers that had previously been fucking in and out of you. His other fingers gripped your jaw roughly as he pressed down on your tongue, sliding them further and further back into your wet mouth. Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes, doing your best to take what he gave you without gagging.

The release that spread over you had you crying out around his fingers, legs shuddering on his shoulders as his forearm held you in place, never pulling his tongue from you until he was satisfied he had tasted every drop. 

But he only allowed you a moment to catch your breath.

Kiyoomi tugged your whole body straight off the chair, pulling your thighs to sit over his where he knelt.  He secured his arms around you and slotted his mouth against your lips, tongue slipping against yours to let you taste yourself on him. Crushing you against his chest, he let out a low groan and let a large palm tangle into your hair, tugging it slightly. 

“Always been Omi’s favorite girl, you know that? Missed you so much sweetheart. Promise I won’t leave you again. Ever. And I’m so sorry I upset you my love” 

And as he pressed his forehead against yours, you realized the signature on his note had always been true, more so than you realized. 

“Always Yours, Kiyoomi”

[frogmanfae]

LOCAL NEWSIES ANALYSIS

ACT I

Jack doesn't have timing

Finch: smash

Holy fuck medda is so

ARE YOU BLIND?!!! S-SHES GOT NO CLOTHES ON!!!!

Step aside *shoves Davey away*

When they ran away from Snyder they just ran off stage so we were robbed of the chase scene :( it would have looked silly on such a small stage tho

Holy fucking shit medda

Davey is casted so so perfect

Katherine is so sassy holy shit

Uh. Bottom line was. Um. yeah so the guy who played Pulitzer actually spoke most of his lines that were supposed to be sung (and when he did sing it was pretty clear WHY this was) but he was good acting wise

Bunson said that the newsies will have to sell 25 more papers to make the same amount, which is mathematically incorrect sir

When the strike first started, after the union JUST voted to make it official and Jack was hyping everyone up, Davey was standing off to the side taking deep breaths and tapping his fingers on his legs and doing a couple of grounding techniques my therapist gave me for panic attacks (holy shit his actor was so autistic and definitely had anxiety and he also graduated from my high school like 5 years ago which was wild to see him again)

Les doesn't just say "I have a pencil!" he said "I have a pencil AT HOME" which to me really emphasizes just how impoverished the other newsies are. Even the ones who have homes don't have simple items (such as pencils) in those homes. Les isn't the only one of them who happens to HAVE a pencil. He's the only one who OWNS a pencil.

I wanna write a medda origin story (random thought I had)

During Jack and Davey's little dance thing in WWK Jack turned the wrong way and Davey had to nudge him to turn facing the back instead of the audience

There was a newsie in the ensemble who was so fucking pissed the entire show, especially during WWK, he put everything he had into that it was crazy shout out to him

At the end of WWH, Katherine started typing really dramatically and it actually looked more like autistic hand flapping (which I kinda love)

Davey talks with his hands a lot

The first scab looked like he was forced into this (not the stabbing, the show) he didn't throw down his papers, he dropped them and went "I'm with you 😐" and walked off stage

When they're striking and then weisel and the delanceys interrupt their songs, they didn't all stop at the same time and the last one you heard was Davey stopping after everyone

The delanceys took crutchie's crutch and literally like sabbed him with it before they dragged him off

Crutchie yelled for Finch as he was being dragged away

When crutchie was taken, the stage was completely empty except for him and the delanceys

During Santa Fe Jack was hyperventilating and he fell to his knees on the first couple notes. When he stood back up he kept leaning and looking over the railing like he was going to jump.

After he hit the last note of Santa Fe, he fell to his hands and knees near the edge and started wailing until the house lights came on for intermission

Les was really good omfg and it's apparently his first show like he's SO good it's insane

I got a newspaper purse during intermission :DD

ACT II

After viewing the program, the actor for Crutchie's day job is a MAILMAN (modern day newsboy pretty much)

Finch was laying face down on the table the entire time before Katherine walked in at the start of act II, including for the delivery of his line, "why do old people talk?"

The tap dancing was pretty good actually

When Crutchie says "so far they ain't brung us no food... Ha. Ha." he laughed like "heheh"

The music cut out earlier than in the original during letter from the refuge (it didn't stop, it just paused after "your best friend" and didn't continue until after the guard yelled) so "your brother, crutchie" was completely acapella and I sobbed

When the guard yelled from off stage to tell crutchie to quiet down, crutchie got this look of absolute terror in his eyes and it was heartbreaking

"Even Horace Greeley moved back to new York" "*waves his hand around like he's in class and really wants to get called on* OOH OOH YEAH! YEAH HE DID! AND THEN HE DIED!!"

"Dave (angry)" "Jackie (excited)"

Davey sounded pretty similar to Ben Fankhauser negl

Spot conlon was tall :( but he was scrawny asf so we'll accept it

At the rally, all the newsies were chanting "Jack Jack Jack Jack-" and Davey came and yelled "NEWSIES OF NEW YORK" and one guy just went "Jack?" and someone shoved him. Davey didn't acknowledge it.

Jack didn't storm away after the rally, someone paraded right in to the center of the floor and handed him the money where everyone was sure to see him and someone went "t-traitor! Youre a traitor!" And then the stage cleared until it was only Jack and Davey under two different spotlights, both looking at each other like they were about to cry. Jack looked at Davey like he wanted nothing more than to run to him and explain everything and Davey looked at Jack like he wanted to throw up. (Sobbing)

Jack and Katherine only kissed once, when she was threatening to punch Jack. All of the other kisses were replaced by hugs and to me that is so much more personal.

Jack seemed to be on the verge of tears for the entirety of Something to Believe In, like all he'd ever had was Santa Fe, but now there's something- some*one* who cares about him and he's gripping so hard onto that. He hugged her so tight I could see the tension in his muscles from the audience.

"... Oh no 😩 I know a printing press he'd never think we'd use 😮‍💨"

"Hey, ah- um, Jack? It's uh... It's good to have you back..." "... Shut up *teeny tiny loving smile*" your honor they're in love

The newsies all came into the audience during once and for all and the girlsie standing at the end of my row was singing harmony and she slayed so hard shout out to her

"Did you read this?? 😡😡 These kids put put a pretty good paper🤬🤬"

"I can't lower the price of papers-" "goodbye. *deadass walks out*" I CACKLED THIS WAS HILARIOUS

"*pouty, over his shoulder because his back is faced to Pulitzer,his arms are crossed, and his shoulders are up to his ears* it's a compromise we can all live with😤🫣"

Davey didn't lose any clothing :( but he also started out dressed more or less the same as Jack was so.

Katherine was blonde, which felt note worthy for some reason

Everyone cheered for medda the loudest during curtain call she was so fucking good

Davey kept stuttering throughout the show and at times it seemed like he was almost trying (and lowkey failing) to cover an accent of some kind but I know that his actor has an American accent because he and I are from the same town, which really feeds into my immigrant Davey hc

I can't get over how good Les was he's gonna grow up to be a star

Over all, this show was really fucking good

Also seriously, Medda. Girl if there's anyway you're reading this what on earth are you doing in the middle of fuck nowhere Pennsylvania?? I don't see many local actors who I believe can make it on Broadway, but you, you could thrive on Broadway.

Every one kept saying "San-ta Fe" and not "Sanna Fe" which felt note worthy

[flootweed]

Top 10 BL Shows of 2022

I posted a lil mini review of all of the 2022 BLs I watched this year but I wanted to infodump about my favorites more. I'm counting shows that started airing in 2021 but ended airing in 2022 as 2022 shows (sorry I need to talk about Not Me & Bad Buddy).

First, though, I wanted to highlight some (dis)honorable mentions, aka shows that are objectively mediocre but I love anyway. Love Mechanics has a wild soap opera plot, but YinWar really make you feel for their characters with their incredible acting and chemistry. Also, I'm in love with War sorry he's just too beautiful. Coffee Melody was watched by 7 people and those that did watch it tend to call it boring. I had no idea this show existed until my recent obsession with the actor Benz led me to watching every show he has starred in (speaking of which... Call It What You Want 😨). The main leads had zero sexual chemistry but the romantic chemistry was SO GOOD. Some of the best flirting I've seen in a BL. The side couple was also amazing. The script was great at one moment and mindboggling at another; I actually skipped most of the C plot stuff about the music company. It's not high art but it's cute and sometimes that is enough. Secret Crush On You was a mess but it was my mess okay. Cringe culture is dead and this show is fucking fun. The mere existence of Daisy as a character puts this show leagues ahead of many others in terms of queer rep. More femme queers in BL please !! The writing is... not the best but BillySeng did the best they could with what they were given. I'm glad they have been getting more work.

10: The Eclipse

I am very picky with shows set in high school but this is a high school set BL that acts as an allegory for political protest in Thailand as a whole. Obviously I fucking loved it. I'm honestly surprised its not higher on my list but I felt myself losing interest towards the end of the show. It just didn't stick with me like I thought it would. I still appreciate it what it had to say as a social commentary, though. It was interesting how it showed the different ways in which people cope with their marginalization. First and Kaotung did great in their roles I love them (though I feel bad because I will always prefer First as Yok).

9: My Only 12%

I have always loved Cooheart but Santa really impressed me in this show. The story itself was a bit slow but SantaEarth kept it from being boring because they really sold the relationship with their chemistry. Looking back on the show though it doesn't really feel like a romance but more of Eiw's coming of age story. The ending also had some issues; they decided to turn the show into an anti-smoking psa at the end so thats fun. Some story threads were dropped and some were completely unnecessary (the siblings). Overall, still very good though.

8: Ghost Host Ghost House

This show was tragic and heartwarming. Such a charming story about grief and love and the effect we have on one another. Seenam and her story fucking broke me. Like I was in pieces, tears and snot running down my face. On a lighter note, congrats to Pluem and Kawin for winning the award for best intimate scene of the year (yes better than cutie pie and lita and kp). They had absolutely fantastic chemistry. Also I wasn't mad at the time skip at the end, you could tell how much they had matured in their time apart.

This show was delightful and I loved it but it is lower on the list because there were so many filming issues. Also I got very annoyed with the script sometimes because very important scenes would happen off screen and the we would just be told about it. Most of the problems I had with it were probably due to budget issues which is really unfortunate.

7: To My Star 2

This. Show. I actually wasn't a super big fan of To My Star. I liked it but I wasn't obsessed with it like some people. It was just lacking a little something. And apparently the thing it was lacking was angst because I absolutely loved the second season. The emotions, the drama, the intimacy, the longing. UGH so good. The loneliness was so visceral I cried twice. Everything about it was just so well done and I felt like I finally understand these characters.

6: Bad Buddy

From here on every show is a 10/10.

The love story of the ages. There's really not much more I can say that basically sums it up. Ohm and Nanon are absolute legends. Also, I will always love this show for giving us milklove. This show occupied my every waking moment while it was airing, like it was an issue. I love how we can already see new shows taking influence from Bad Buddy, its what she deserves.

5: Blueming

Oh Blueming. Oh this darling show. Its so pretty and so painful. The mom scene makes me cry every time, it just hits too close to home. Siwon my darling child. Daun was at risk of being a manic pixie dream boy but the ending came in clutch and showed he actually had flaws and complex feelings we love that. The show itself had the same vibes of the queer indie films I would watch as a baby gay back in the day. The back-lit love scene was just gorgeous the way they just flowed back and forth from one another. Such a beautiful physicality.

4: 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us

This is not a romance. Yet it has some of the best romantic and sexual chemistry of the year. Between two people who never even allowed themselves to touch each other. LIKE WHAT !!!??!!! This show is a literal masterpiece. The way it is written and shot is breathtaking; it feels like more of a stage play than a tv show. I just had a constant stream of tears for the entirety of the last episode. I still get so mad when people misinterpret this show or get mad that they don't kiss or it doesn't have a "happy" ending. Wang's actor was absolutely phenomenal I can't wait to see what he does in the future. This could honestly be even higher on my list but its not a romance so I don't really classify it as a BL.

3: Semantic Error

Sometimes you watch an autistic person and a person with adhd fall in love and it is one of the best things you've ever seen.

This is the definition of a well crafted show. I noticed this especially on my second watch; the script is just so tight. Well written, well shot, well acted. It was such a moment, like it literally singlehandedly saved the music career of Jaechan and his bandmates. I prefer my shows with a bit more grit, which is why it doesn't get the top slot but it is just so well done that it just had to be in the top 3.

2: Not Me

In contrast, this show is not perfect but has the grit I love. You could tell there were story threads that were dropped in the middle of the show and narrative threads that weren't followed through with. Yet this show is still god tier. I'm sorry but a show about a gang of gay anti-capitalists deserves all of my praise, even if the script is shaky at times.

Yok is my one true love, the light of my life, my favorite character of all time. First was so good as this character but Gun was definitely the standout actor in this series. Gun is an absolute powerhouse and he really showed his chops in Not Me.

I doubt this is the first time gay marriage is brought up in a BL but I feel like Not Me is really a turning point in allowing BL to be more explicitly political and queer. This show literally changed the game.

1: Triage !!!

Its a medical drama, its a time travel sci-fi, its an (almost) tragic romance. What more could you want. I try not to expect much from BLs with high concepts like this but damn this show blew me away. It takes a lot for me to have a strong emotional reaction to a show and yet I violently sobbed at least three separate times while watching this. Never has a show destroyed me so much emotionally. And it pains me every day that more people have not seen this show, though its understandable bc its so hard to watch for international fans (god bless dramacool). I highly HIGHLY recommend everyone try to get their hands on this show.

[leothil]

fmk these three ryans ❤️

also if you have any wild student days stories in your back pocket please tell me one LOVE YOU MWAH 💕

Kris you are killing me sdjhgf send help why are we like this. OKAY, okay, okayyyyyy. Fuck the first one because he looks like a soft boy, kill the middle one because he looks like a douche, and marry the last one because that's a dork I could share my life with. <3

I have SO many wild student day stories, but since I was just away on a festival with my dance squad and orchestra from those days I'll tell you a bit about another festival we went to in 2011. So we got invited to perform at Ballerup musikfest in Denmark, which is a hoot and a half because that meant a bus trip through Sweden and a stop on the way in Gothenburg to visit our friend orchestra and dance squad at Chalmers there.

The fun thing about Ballerup is that my orchestra has been invited there enough times that the people attending the music festival recognize our uniforms (which we are always dressed in when out on these kinds of trips, no exceptions), so it's always kind of like being a celebrity; people keep greeting you and cheering at you. We also gathered some extra attention when we formed a beer chain through the city - beer is much cheaper in Denmark than in Finland, so gotta take the opportunity when you have it, y'know (the video is from 2013 but we did the same thing in 2011, and 2015, and 2017...).

Anyway, we were having a great time at the festival, doing our gigs and watching other orchestras and bands perform, and going to Bjarnes pølser at 3AM to get the best hot dogs in the country. But then the day before we're set to leave our bus breaks down. Completely caput. We won't be able to use it to get home.

Well, that's inconvenient. (The rest is under a read more, this turned longer than I intended lmao)

Sleepover Saturday!

The orchestra's administration jumps into action, but it's very quickly evident that we'll have to fly home and leave the bus to it's fate. But since we're so many there's no plane available until the day after tomorrow. Ok, so one extra night. Except then it turns out the bus will be transported away the next day, and most of our packing will have to go with it because we can't check in ridiculous amounts of baggage on the plane. So one extra night with no mattresses or sleeping mats to lie on. Ok. Well. Doable.

So. We sleep our last comfortable night, then the next morning pack everything we won't need immediately into the bus - including most of the beer we bought - see the bus off and resign to spend the day in Ballerup. Well, our bus driver came up with the idea that he could take us into Christiania in Copenhagen instead and show us around there.

A side note to talk about him a bit, because bless this man, god rest his soul. He passed a few years ago, but he was an absolute legend. I have no idea how many languages he spoke but it must've been at least seven. He drove the orchestra to pretty much all our festivals for something like 20 years. Sometimes he picked up hitchhikers, who then got to take part in whatever weird bus shenanigans were happening at the moment, and once in the buffet on the boat between Sweden and Finland there was a Brazilian couple at the next table over who wondered about us, so our driver started speaking Portuguese with them and explained our deal. He was so much fun, I miss him.

Christiania is an interesting place. They have some very interesting architecture because of their status as freetown, but it do be the cannabis that brings most people there. Well, we spent a nice afternoon and evening there, our bus driver knew lots of people. Then we took the train back to Ballerup to drink up all the beer we didn't put in the bus and try to sleep at least somewhat straight on the floor. It was uncomfortable, I'll say that much, but I spooned up with a couple of friends, so could be worse. It was cold, though. The next morning we once again take the train to Copenhagen to go to the airport, and give the poor security guards a weird show when we show up in our dress suits and pink jackets with lots of medals on our chests and raging hangovers (we left maybe a bit too much beer with us instead of putting more on the bus, rip) - no civilian clothes allowed on a festival, remember. I remember buying toast and a smoothie from Joe and the Juice, and then pretty much everyone passing out on the plane as soon as it took off.

The bus got repaired and made it back to Finland some days later and we got all our stuff back. But I did miss my Monday morning lectures.

[secretivemessenger]

I can't stop thinking about the dilf bottom reader concept with Kuroo (I admit I go wild for him), like Kuroo is 23 and the reader is 38. Kuroo might say something like “does daddy dearest love this fat cock stuffing you full?" I can't stop thinking about the scenario. I would like you to write this, you can add your own plot

Daddy’s Man

Top kuroo x dilf male reader

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Age gap! Single parent reader! Power bottom reader! Daddy kink! Rough sex

Note: i gave this my own twist

Minors and female aligned DNI

College man kuroo would be attracted to you at first sight , seeing you pick up your two seven year old children from the elementary school nearby college

Your shirt that looks rather tight because of the muscles pressing on it , you had many amazing features but the one that stands out more than anything is your personality , the way you would act with your children , you tough yet sweet face

All of this awoken something in kuroo something he never knew he had , he wanted to talk to you so bad but he never did , he couldn’t , and so all he could ever do is fantasise about all the things he could do to you

Kuroo was walking aimlessly on the park too lost in his thoughts , you fill every bit of his brain all he could ever think about is you

How you would look like on top of him , under him , how would your expression be when he fills you up to the brim with his seed , how would you be like when he’s fucking you against the door while your children on the other side questioning the noises

He would absolutely love to be tied up and blindfolded to a chair have you overstimulate his cock , teasing him none stop , making him beg to have his cock inside you

“your gonna make daddy feel good won’t you” you would say when you finally got his cock all the way inside , you would ride him at such a fast phase going up and down screaming his name , tightly gripping at his hair pulling it back , you attacked his neck with your harsh kisses sucking on his Adam apple leaving red and purple marks

Kuroo thrusted up at the same pace as you moves , making you see stars ramming that one spot inside of you making you cum all over your stomach , he somehow managed to get his hands out of the tie thats around his hands

Kuroo took a hold of your waist , you didn’t have time to question anything before kuroo started raising your body up and down his cock , completely ramming your insides , his cock rearranging your insides you can even see it bulging on you stomach showing how deep he’s inside you

“Oh god yes” You cried out for his when he pressed his fingers against the bulge you clenched your hole tightly your body shaking as kuroo stood up and moved to the wall , he took a hold of your thighs and pulled them up around his waist

His hand rough around then already leaving red marks , his hard thrusts determined to milk you from every drip of cum you have “how does daddy feel having his insides ravaged by little old me” he said “i love it your doing a great job continue please” you moaned out for him

And he obeyed thrusting up violently , you held into his shoulders digging your nails into his back , tears of pleasure spills it’s like your on cloud nine

“Kuroo fuck i… i want my ball back” hearing this with his real ears he was drawn back to reality , infront of him stood a kid , and when he looked down he noticed the ball near his feed

“Hear ya go kid” kuroo said as he kicked the ball back to the child “what do we say when someone help us” a sound came from the background , He turned and there you are standing with another child “thank you” the child said before running back to you

You turned to leave but kuroo stoped you “wanna have dinner sometime”

[sukirichi]

— just the two of us

request: I almost read all of your jujutsu kaisen writings and I love it. Your writing is really good! I do not know if a request about a fics🥞 about satoru gojo who is really in love and not very possessive with an oblivious reader. It will be fun to see Satoru try to flirt with her and she doesn't get it🤣

pairings: gojo x oblivious! reader

notes: THIS IDEA IS SO CUTEEE I absolutely loved every second of writing it! thank you for the request and I hope you like this! 🥞 breakfast has been served!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none, other than this is unedited and written humorously rather than seriously~

masterlist !

Gojo doesn’t know whether he’s lucky – or completely cursed – over the fact you’ve got no idea he’s so in love with you.

It’s a bright sunny morning, perfect for outdoor training, and he walks with you all the way to school with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You stretch your arms out in the sky to bask in the morning glow and warmth of the sun, sleeves pushed up to your forearms to “get that vitamin D.”

Satoru snickers at your statement, because you’d totally be getting a different kind of Vitamin D if only you’d notice him. Sometimes he wonders, if maybe you’d inherited the Six Eyes instead of him, would you finally be able to see him – or would you still remain unaware?

He doesn’t even know where it began. A year ago, Yaga introduced you as the newest staff member. You’d been so fidgety and nervous then, unsure of what to do and worried if maybe the kids wouldn’t love. They did, of course, how could they not. Not only were you extremely fun to be with, you’re also caring, fretting and even crying whenever one of the students got injured over a mission.

Shoko reminds you all the time that this should be normal for you by now, but you always cry every time, sobbing that they’re still only kids and should be out having fun.

Yeah, maybe that’s where it began. Your kindness struck a chord in Satoru’s heart, and before he knew it, he was falling for you. Hard. Next thing you know, he shows up five minutes before you leave for work, mock-saluting you before inviting you to breakfast. He does this every damn day, and you still don’t get a single thing.

“That café was really good,” you muse, fingers stretching outwards and giggling as the sun peeks through the spaces. Satoru sighs beside you, wanting nothing more than to slip his fingers through those softer ones. “We should go back there sometime. Maybe even take the kids with us this weekend so we can all have breakfast together!”

Satoru masks a snicker with a cough. It reminds him of the time Megumi called you mom and dad by accident, to which you happily responded with before tackling the boy in hugs, while the strongest jujutsu sorcerer only flushed in embarrassment.

Him being him though, Satoru played it off cool, flipping his hair before striking a pose. “Huh, a dad?” he smirks, “The only person who gets to call me daddy would be no one else but Y/N.”

The raven haired first year student immediately recoils in disgust. Meanwhile, the innuendo flies straight through you, and you peer up at him innocently with your head tilted to the side. “Daddy? Why would I call you my dad? My father is still alive and well, and I don’t see you marrying my mom or anything,” Just as Megumi nearly howls in laughter – another evidence that you’re really something else to get the usually stoic boy to lose his composure like that – you snap your fingers, the light bulb above your head practically shining. “Oh, I get it! You prefer younger women and you want them to call you that! Kind of like the hype for onii-chan nowadays.”

Hopeless, Satoru wants to say, you’re absolutely, utterly hopeless.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Satoru shrugs nonchalantly, sending a smirk your way. It usually drives everyone crazy, but you only smile back up at him in the same way you smile with everyone, and he tries his best to not show his shoulders are deflating. Nevertheless, he doesn’t give up. “How about you and I go out somewhere this weekend? The movies, perhaps?”

Say yes, say yes – please say yes.

Really though, he’s waiting for that ‘no’ already. Satoru knows you always go out of town during the weekends to visit your family in the countryside, only coming back on Monday the next week with a basket of fruits and traditional goods that isn’t so easy to find in the city.

But then you clasp your hands together in excitement, lashes fluttering delicately as you beam up at him. “Really? You’d like to go to the movies with me?”

“Of course I would,” Satoru tries not to stutter, hiding the fact that he’s completely taken aback. He’s the Gojo Satoru for heaven’s sake, he shouldn’t be this affected by anyone’s presence. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh, nothing, I just thought you were busy. This Saturday, then?”

Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap, it’s actually happening – his mind was barely functioning at this point, and he even slapped his cheeks to snap him back to life. “I thought there was a fly,” he lied with a chuckle, “But yeah, Saturday. I’ll pick you up?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Satoru wouldn’t stop smiling the whole way to the school. Even when Yuuji had face planted into the ground and Megumi sprained his ankle from training, he wasn’t able to get rid of the ridiculously big smile that stretched across his lips. He’s floating in cloud nine, flowers erupting from his ears and heart-shaped emojis bursting in his background.

“Well, you look creepy,” Shoko commented in the faculty room the moment you excused yourself, “Did you land a date with her or something?”

“That I did,” he stated proudly, even banging his fist on his chest like a deranged form of King Kong.

“I can only hope Y/N makes it out alive,” Nanami announces from behind the newspaper he’s reading, legs crossed over another before he peeks above the paper, narrowed eyes dead set on the blindfolded man. “Don’t be too wild with her, Satoru. She’s a gentle soul despite being a sorcerer – I humbly suggest you don’t mess with her feelings.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s the one messing with my feelings by being so fucking cute all the time!”

“Who’s cute?”

Shoko nearly spits out her coffee the moment you enter, glancing around the room and sitting down next to a shock-still Satoru. Nanami only huffs in his seat with a shake of his head. It doesn’t take long before Satoru regains his confidence and recovers from his shock – he’s turned to you with his torso completely facing your way.

You bask in the attention, mimicking the gesture until your faces are mere inches from one another. The fact you’re so responsive and attentive to him yet still painfully naïve strikes a mental war of himself debating whether he wants to kiss you or knock your head upside down. Satoru chooses neither options as he leans closer, his smile growing wider when you don’t pull away, and he doesn’t stop moving until his lips are right beside the shell of your ear.

“You’re cute.”

Shoko shudders at the same time Nanami just gives up on everything, folding his paper and lying that he’s got someplace to go with Ichiji. Satoru patiently waits for your reaction; for you to crumble this time around.

You’re silent for a moment, brows almost right across each other when you register his words. Satoru ends up holding his breath for your next words, wondering: is this it? will she finally understand what I feel for her now?

Even Shoko ends up sitting at the edge of her seat, silently watching the exchange with interest barely hidden in her sparkling eyes. Satoru watches as your lips open, his eyes transfixed on the way the soft flesh moves. They tilt upwards, revealing a set of a wide smile – the smile he can never get enough of. “Thank you!” you giggle at his compliment, “You and Shoko are very cute too! And the kids too, especially Toge! Not that I’m saying he’s my favourite—”

“He’s definitely your favourite student,” snorts Shoko who is ignoring the way Satoru turns completely gray beside you.

It turns out you still haven’t figured it out after all.

“The kids this – the kids that,” the tall, lanky man whines, his head falling back on the back of the leather couch. He looks so utterly defeated you can’t help but lean over him to check if he’s okay, but Satoru pouts and hides his face under his uniform instead. “Why can it never be just the two of us?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

This time, you’ve kneeled on the couch to hover him. You even pluck one side of his blindfold off to see how he’s doing, and suddenly thankful you can’t see the way his cheeks are absolutely flaming right now. 

“Nothing,” he assures, his smile hidden behind his shirt. You look absolutely adorable hovering over him like that – eyes wide and lips pouty – what he wouldn’t give to kiss those lips right now, but it isn’t the right time, and Satoru just needs to find a better way to tell you how he feels. “It’s nothing.”

It’s absolutely not nothing.

Saturday couldn’t come faster.

Satoru finds himself willing time to go faster. Once the awaited day finally comes, he wastes no time in choosing his best outfit; an oversized black shirt tucked into black skinny jeans before styling his hair up the way he likes.

He winks at his reflection in the mirror, going ooh and aah at how hot he looks. It’s another reason why he can’t comprehend why you don’t like him yet, when, uhm, he knows he looks damn good? He’s pretty funny too – and his strength and power is already a no-brainer. Satoru can’t wrap his head around any possible reason why you wouldn’t like him; it’s basically a life or death mission at this point.

With that end goal in his mind and a spritz of perfume later, Satoru sashays out his apartment. Even though it’s already dark outside and he spent the whole day walking back and forth in his room trying to come up with ways to confess to you, he acts coolly all the way to your apartment.

This time around, he’s more than confident. He’s going to have you wrapped around his pretty little finger, “Wow,” is the first thing he says, pulling his blindfold down just to look at you.

Satoru feels blessed in that exact moment to witness how the heavens took their time with you, creating only the best out of the best and birthing the most magnificent person ever. Suddenly, he grows an urge to run to the countryside and thank your parents for going funky one night and creating you, because you’re an absolutely magnificent gift and it really baffles him how you’re real.

“Wow,” he repeats again, and you chuckle when he shakes his head. “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you look him up and down, smiling in satisfaction. “You look very handsome yourself.”

Satoru’s been called handsome a million times before that it’s gotten too much in his head already, but hearing it come from your lips hits different. If he was excited before, it’s nothing compared to what he feels now when you loop your arm through his, dangling off his arm like you were a lover.

He knows it’s not real and this is probably just a friendly date for you – something he intends to clear up later – but it doesn’t stop him from puffing his chest up a bit, almost as if bragging to everyone around you that he was the one you’re with, and that he was the one you’re going to the movies with.

All your babbles about everything goes straight into one ear and out the other. He wants to listen to you, he really does, but he’s so intoxicated with your voice that he just ends up nodding at everything you say; his attention mostly on how sweet you sound and smell.

His feelings only intensify a hundred times more when you finally make it to the theatre. Not only is it dark, but you’re sitting right next to him, arms and thighs brushing against each other. He takes note of every little movement you make, smiling to himself when you don’t pull away from his thigh flush against yours.

In this close proximity, your perfume overwhelms his senses. He finds himself leaning closer just to get a little more taste of it, his arm resting on the armrest beside him and placing his cheek on his open palm.

He doesn’t even know what the movie is about. All he can see, hear, feel and recognize is you – nothing and no one but you. Just as he wanted, it’s just the two of you.

Satoru reaches out to the bowl of popcorn in his lap to distract himself from the need of kissing you already. He was so smug that he’s on this date with you; now he feels like the world is laughing and mocking at him because you’re so close yet so far away. The last thing he wants is to say something weird and have you running for the hills. It’s clear you don’t like him, after all.

You end up reaching for it the same time he does, making your fingers brush. It sends a jolt of electricity down his spine and he immediately retracts it.

Looking up at him with an apologetic smile, Satoru knows he’s messed up. “I’m sorry,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender with a nervous chuckle. “I should’ve gotten my own bowl instead.”

Satoru stares at you through his blindfold. You’re close enough that he can count your lashes – both top and bottom row – and he’s so stupefied at this point that he just says the first thing that comes to his mind; absolutely anything just to get your attention. “Cold,” he shows you his hand, “I’m cold.”

“Oh,” you nod and slip your fingers through his. Satoru nearly gasps at how electrifying the sensation is from having your smaller, softer fingers collide with his, your hands fitting perfectly in his bigger, calloused ones. Then, you close your intertwined hands and smush your cheek with it to transfer your heat – completely unaware that Satoru feels like he’s floating in his own Infinite Void right now. “Feel warmer now?”

“Yes,” he replies. “Extremely.”

Something beast-like wakes within him after that. Now that he knows you don’t mind touching him at all, Satoru can’t help but want to take out all his playing cards and just go fuck it. So he does – and he might regret, he might not – who cares? It’s just the two of you, and you’re the only one he ever cares about this much that he’d pretty much let you do anything at this point.

“You know,” Satoru begins, shifting until your joined hands are resting on top of his chest. His heart is just about ready to burst through its confines at this moment, but he holds back. It’s now or never. “Shoko and Nanami are annoyed that I talk about you all the time.”

Your eyes widen at his statement. “Really? Do you talk badly about me or something?”

“No,” he nearly groans in frustration, “You’re really pretty and cool. You’re amazing during missions, too, when you fight, it’s like I’m witnessing a warrior princess. So cool.”

This makes you laugh until the person sitting behind you rudely shushes you. You bow your head in apology, turning to Satoru with a softer smile this time; one that looks reserved and private compared to your big grins. “Oh, no,” he closes his eyes even behind his blindfold, “Don’t smile at me like that. I don’t think I’ll still be cool if I end up stuttering over my words.”

“Satoru!” you whisper-hiss, although your chest is filled with so much giddiness too that you’ve both forgotten about the movie; unaware that the entire theatre was crying over the main character’s friend’s death. “What are you going on about?”

He wants to laugh so damn hard. He thought confessing his feelings for you would end up in a pitiful heartbreak that you’d be weirded out and push him away. For a moment, he forgets it’s you, and that nothing is ever difficult or painful with you – other than, of course, you being oblivious, but that isn’t something he can’t fix. He’ll get you on the train one way or another.

“I have a confession.”

“Yeah?”

“I was practicing how to ask you out for a whole hour in the mirror,” Satoru whispers, careful to not ruin the melancholic mood of theatre. It doesn’t even surprise him that his world is filled with nothing but sunshine even if the world around you has descended into grief and loneliness. “I also called Nanami on first date tips.”

“Nanami?” you echo with a gasp, “Why Nanami?”

“Because he’s married, that’s why. Mans know some tips for sure.”

“Wait, so,” you chuckle nervously, and Satoru waits, waits for you to pull away or push him back – anything that would indicate discomfort. He’s patient the whole time, watching carefully as you only squeeze his hand and gesture to the both of you with your free one. “This is a date? Our first date?”

“Only if you want to be,” Satoru shrugs, grimacing afterwards at how sappy he sounds. “Well, I actually consider this our first date and I’ve been waiting for this for like forever now, so I sure as hell hope you want this too. I didn’t dress myself up today only to come back home crying.”

Satoru’s heart – if possible – only beats crazier and sings the syllables of your name when you start laughing harder to the point you have to muffle it by burying yourself in his bicep. He feels like his muscles and nerves could erupt at any moment. It’s crazy – absolutely insane – how you have him wrapped around your finger like this. He doesn’t complain though; he never will.

“I’m glad,” you mumble through his shirt, your erratic heartbeat matching kiss when you take the first tentative step of kissing his jaw.

Satoru stiffens underneath you, a low growl ripping from his throat. He’s feral, wild, drunk at the sight and scent of you. You make him feel like he’s fluctuating between dimensions, all the planets just crashing on one another until the stardust is left in your eyes because what else could be an explanation for what he’s feeling other than a supernova collision of hearts?

“You always make me feel so happy when you’re around that I still can’t believe you feel the same way. I was so worried that maybe you wouldn’t get my hints.”

Satoru groans, “What the hell? How long have you liked me?”

“I guess when you started bringing flowers to Megumi randomly just to piss him off.”

Satoru wants to rip his hair out. That was just a few weeks after you’ve started working with him, meaning you both have liked each other this whole time and he’s been suffering and feeling stupid just for nothing?

“God, Y/N,” he mutters to himself, “You really do know how to make a man go crazy, huh?”

That innocent smile on your face lets him know that as usual, you’re oblivious of everything. Satoru is right; he still can’t decide whether he wants to whack you in the head upside down. With a sigh, he ends up choosing the latter, nearly falling over his seat when you let out a surprised yelp at the feeling of his lips on yours.

It doesn’t take long before you grab onto his shirt and cling to dear life, laughter bubbling through your lips as you kiss. The sound is so precious he wants to bottle it up and keep it treasure for the rest of his life, but Satoru doesn’t rush anything.

With you and only with you is he ever capable of feeling like it’s just the two of you in a world filled with chaos and destruction.

[ameliora-j]

show me // rw x reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: smut, innocence kink, corruption kink, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering (f receiving)

a/n: maybe multi part if it doesn’t flop idk

to ron you were perfect. the picture of innocence. and everytime he looked at you… all he wanted was to have you on your knees for him, choking around his cock as he filled your throat and painted your body with his seed.

he felt bad for these thoughts, of course. you were innocent. you stopped in the middle of hogsmeade to look at the flowers. you helped people with their homework. the entire school had deigned you ‘the y/h princess’ for how perfectly innocent you were. wide, doe-like eyes, a pretty smile, and a seemingly permanent blush painted across your cheeks.

ron was your potions partner—and your crush for three years—and when you came to potions in the tight shirt and short skirt, he snapped. the skirt fell just below the curve of your bum, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, and the shirt showed just enough cleavage. you didn’t do it on purpose, of course… you hadn’t had anymore clean uniforms, forcing you to pull on your one from fifth year. it still fit, but your body had grown and curves accentuated since two years ago. when ron laid his eyes upon you, his pants tightened considerably around his crotch.

“hi ronnie,” you smiled as you sat beside him.

“hi dove,” you blushed at the nickname, a swarm of butterflies erupting in your tummy. he’d called you dove for as long as you can remember, but it never failed to make you swoon.

“hey ln! i dropped something, could you pick it up for me?” draco snarked behind you. ron turned to glare at the two slytherin boys as you reached for the book draco had dropped.

“he can get it himself dovey, he’s got hands,” ron snarled as he fixed the smirking boys with a hard glare. you just shrugged and returned to taking your notes.

all day continued on like this. boys throwing remarks at you and you were clueless as to what they meant. as you were walking by ron’s side out to the courtyard, mclaggen called “hey ln, mind if i take a turn after weasley there? i’ll let you tickle my pickle for a nickel!” teasingly across the hall.

you looked up at ron with slightly furrowed brows. “wha’s he talkin about ronnie?” you asked innocently.

“you really don’t know, do you dovey?” ron asked as he looked down at you, sympathetically. you shook your head as a pout crossed your features. ron offered you a small smile as he pushed your hair away from your face. “your skirts really short today, dove. he’s asking you to do something sexual for him,” ron informed you.

your eyes practically tripled in size. “didn’t know! promise i didn’t. didn’t have any clean uniforms. had to use one from fifth year,” your pout deepened.

“i know you didn’t, dove,” ron kissed your head gently. “mclaggen’s a jerk.”

“is that what everyone’s meant today? they want to do something sexual to me?” you asked and he nodded. “do… do you?” you asked shyly.

ron blushed slightly at the question. “do i want to do something sexual to you?” he asked and you nodded. “i respect you enough to not do anything, dove.” he kissed your nose.

“but have you ever… thought about it?” you asked.

“once or twice,” he answered casually.

“show me…” you whispered so lowly that ron almost didn’t hear you.

“what?” he gulped.

“show me… what you thought about doing,” as you looked up for him, asking him to do something dirty so casually, you were still the perfect picture of innocence. ron closed his eyes tightly and inwardly groaned as he thought about all the things he could do to you.

“are you sure dove?” he asked.

“positive ronnie. want it. please,” you told him. he took your hand gently and lead you up to his dorm. once he closed the door, he kissed you softly.

“gonna go slow, dove. don’t wanna do too much for your first time, okay?” you hummed softly as he returned his lips to your’s and kissed you dumb. “lay on the bed f’me,” you did as you were told and stared up at him.

he pulled the rings off his fingers and set them in your hand. “hold these f’me, yeah dove? keep ‘em safe.” you nodded and closed your hand around the silver circles in your palm as he kissed down your neck. he slowly unbuttoned your shirt as he continued to kiss down your body gently.

“gonna eat your pretty pussy, that okay dove?” he checked for your consent and you nodded. “words please,” he spoke gently.

“yes ron,” you murmured softly. “that’s okay,” you whispered softly.

he smirked as he pulled your panties up and found your cunt already slick with arousal. he left open-mouthed kisses up your thighs. you let soft moans escape your mouth as you closed your eyes. “has anyone ever touched you here, dove?” he asked, breath fanning over your clit.

“no,” you shook your head, whimpering softly as he left a small, open-mouthed kiss on your clit.

“have you ever touched yourself?” just the question made you blush and he smirked. chest swelling with pride at the fact that he got to be the first person to make you feel good. he reached up his hand and intertwined your fingers. “hold my hand, dove. gonna make you feel so good.” you nodded and squeezed his hand gently, moaning softly as you felt his tongue lick a stripe over your cunt.

once ron got his first taste, he ate you like a starved man. he moaned at the taste as he licked fervently at your cunt, reducing you to a moaning mess above him. you gasped and shuddered as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked gently. “please…” you whimpered. “p-please,” you repeated, not even sure what you were begging for at this point.

but somehow, ron knew exactly what you needed. he reached his free hand up and slowly circled your opening with his middle finger. you moaned loudly as he pushed his finger through the ring of muscles and began thrusting slowly. “more… please more,” you whimpered. he pushed in a second finger and curved them, causing you to moan again and buck your hips.

“gotta stay still for me dove,” ron whispered softly, before returning to eating your cunt like a wild animal.

“ronnie… ronnie my tummy feels weird,” you whimpered softly.

“gonna cum dovey. let it go,” he whispered. “cum on my tongue dove, wanna taste you.” you did as he said, feeling all of your muscles relax as your back careened off the mattress and you repeated please and whimpers mixed in with his name.

ron pulled his mouth away from your clit, using his fingers to fuck you through your first ever orgasm as his eyes locked on you. somehow, even stuffed full with his fingers you looked so… innocent. he pulled his fingers from you and sucked them clean before diving back in, cleaning you up.

you shrieked at the overstimulation as you squeezed his hand and bucked into his mouth. he fucked you with his tongue and circled your clit, latching his mouth to your cunt and sucking softly. ron was a god with his mouth, there was no denying that. it was mere minutes before he felt you cumming in his mouth again. you whimpered softly as he continued his soft licks up your slit to bring you down.

he placed one last open-mouthed kiss to your clit before kneeling up on the bed. “precious,” he whispered as he stared down at you. eyes blown, lips bitten red and swollen, cunt still slick with your own cum and arousal, chest rapidly rising and falling, and hair a mess. you smiled dazedly up at him as you squeezed his hand again.

“thank you ronnie,” you murmured softly.

“of course, dovie,” he smiled.

“wha’s that?” you asked as you pointed to the tent in his pants.

“i’ll teach you another time, yeah dove? let’s get you in the bath, okay?” you nodded, too tired to argue as he lifted your limp body in his arms and walked you into the bathroom. he set you on the porcelain bowl and allowed you to go as he readied your bath.

he was gently in cleaning you up, mindful of all your sensitive spots. once he was all done, he put you in a pair of his boxers and his quidditch sweatshirt, allowing you to curl into his chest and play with his fingers as you came down. “ronnie?” you asked softly.

“yes dove?” he asked.

“does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked him.

“if you want me to be,” he smiled at you. you nodded with a small smiled as you looked up at him. he leaned down and pressed his lips gently against your’s. “go to sleep dove, i’ll be right here, okay?”

“okay,” you whispered, allowing your exhaustion to overcome you.

tags: @i-love-scott-mccall @roonilwazlibswhore @bellatrixscurls @ronweasleylover1 @mollysolo @hogwartshomiehopper @missryerye @marrymetheonott @black-rose-29 @shrekboobies @mypainistemporary @vayeya11 @ivettt @gloryekaterina @biles-bilinskiii @ameliasbitvh

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[spencerspecifics]

HI HI HI PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE MOREID AT PRIDE AND SOME PINING AND SPENCER THINKS DEREK IS STRAIGHT BUT HE ISN'T AND THEY KIIIITTTTTHHHHH

I absolutely love your energy fuck yes!! I’m so sorry this took forever, ive got school, work and some other personal things happening so I appreciate your patience!

No TW, B u t, a creep hits on Spencer at pride, so if that is upsetting please note that! Thanks :)

———————————————————————

Pride

———————————————————————

Garcia had been pestering Spencer about going to pride for the past week now, and it was slowly driving him insane.

He used almost every excuse he could think of. When he first turned her down, he had simply said, “Sorry, I’m going to be busy that week.” And of course, Garcia being Garcia, she stole his calendar to see what he was busy with (spoiler alert: he had nothing. Except a reminder to go grocery shopping, and email some professors and research scientists back).

So, she persisted, and he came up with a dozen more excuses; “I was considering flying out to see my mom”, “The local museum has a new interactive archeology exhibit for adults, and I want to learn more about ancient structures”, “I have to do a presentation on thermodynamics”.

None of those excuses work, as she sniffed out every lie, “Spencer, you hate flying to Vegas last minute, that archaeology exhibit has been open for months, and your calendar is empty!”

So with her persistence, and legitimate bullying, Spencer found himself finally agreeing. “Fine, but come over to my apartment before we leave so you can help me.” After all, he wasn’t really familiar with pride parades, and what the scene was like there. He was going to be a fish out of water, he already knew that for certain.

~

True to her word, Garcia showed up an hour before the pride parade was set to start, carrying a coffee in each hand- how she possibly knocked on his apartment door, Spencer didn’t know.

“I brought you a pick me up, that way you have no excuse to be in a bad mood!” She spoke in her signature sing song voice as Spencer let her inside, she barreled in like a hurricane. God, Spencer wasn’t ready for this.

“Thanks..” Spencer decided to reply with that lame response, and not with what he was actually thinking. He took the coffee from her wordlessly as she stepped in further, going to sit down on his couch.

“You excited?” Garcia asked as she set her cup down on his cluttered coffee table. Reid just shrugged, “I don’t know. I don’t do great with crowds.”

“But you do great with disarming murderers?” “You know that’s different-” Spencer said, doing his best to argue, “Reid it is literally not. Both are anxiety inducing, but one is life or death, and it’s not pride. So you can do this.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to not arguing with Garcia. Because she was right, though at times her arguments sounded wild. He just had to get over this anxiety and show up at pride, he could do this, right?

~

Wrong. So, very, wrong. They had left his apartment with thirty minutes to spare, deciding to walk over to where pride was being held- as it was only a few blocks away in a public park.

And as soon as they got there, Spencer wanted out. There were so many people, more than he estimated (and his estimations were usually spot on.), and there was just chaos everywhere. Music, dancing, shouting, singing, drag queens running around happily. Spencer wasn’t sure what to do. He was out of his element.

Garcia seemed to sense that, though, as she dragged Spencer over to some stalls that sold pride flags, pins, and other miscellaneous pride related things.

“C’mon Reid, why don’t you look around and find something you like?” She offered up, something for him to do- something for him to stay busy with. He could do that. Spencer nodded simply, Garcia stayed by his side- looking at pride related wear for herself.

~

Spencer ended up deciding on a small pin that simply said; “love all”, planning to stick it on his messenger bag strap. Garcia bought a pin as well, but hers just had her pronouns on them; “she/her/hers”.

Looking at all the pride apparel was a good distraction for Spencer, he felt a lot more calmer now- though that didn’t stop him from feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s just not familiar with this world, and it’s awkward to suddenly be in the middle of it.

Spencer was in the middle of looking at another booth that sold flags, possibly considering buying himself a small one to stick in his pencil cup at work, because Garcia left him to go compliment a drag queen- when a voice broke through.

“Hey, pretty boy!”

That was a voice all too familiar, what on earth was Morgan doing here? Spencer looked up at him as he made his way towards him. “Hey,” Spencer spoke awkwardly. Not sure what to say.

Spencer was gay. He was fine with admitting he was gay, but he hadn’t really told the team. He thought they figured it out on their own. And they probably had, but still, having his coworker see him at a pride event- it was anxiety inducing.

“What’re- what’re you doing here?” Spencer asked, stumbling over his words as he dropped the small flag he was holding back onto the vendors table.

“Oh, well I’m on the local PFLAG committee. I’m just here to hand out flyers and stuff. But I’m glad to see you’re here, I’m guessing Garcia’s here too?” He asked Spencer casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Spencer.

He was on the PFLAG committee? Why? To help queer people, obviously, but that had to mean he was gay or something- Spencer couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with every possible answer to why Derek was on the committee.

Spencer just nodded in response, he moved himself back from the vendors table to get out of the way, so other customers could look at the flags being sold.

“Yeah, she’s- there.” Reid pointed her out, as if on cue she came out of the thick crowd that had started to gather back up, the parade portion of pride had concluded by now, and people were coming over to the vendors section.

“Hey, Babygirl!” Derek called over to her, and Garcia somehow lit up with a smile brighter than the one she was wearing before, “Well, hey!” She responded enthusiastically, walking up swiftly to give Derek a quick embrace, which he happily returned.

“I wasn’t sure how long you were staying for, but I’m glad I caught you!” Garcia started rambling to Derek, about how the drag queen she met was so nice; “Her name was Mysteria Hysteria. Isn’t that genius?”.

~

Spencer just stepped back from them both, not sure what to do, not sure if he fully belonged. Pride was a nice event, it was. But the longer he stood around, the more he felt like he should be leaving. Everyone was laughing and smiling, everyone was just happy. And Spencer couldn’t stop racking his brain. In the beginning, he couldn’t stop thinking because of his anxiety, but now he was searching his brain for a reason why Derek was here and what it meant.

Of course, a stupid large portion of Spencer’s mind went to “maybe Morgan likes men”, and then an even larger and stupider portion of his mind had the absurdity to think; “maybe he’s interested in me”. Which Spencer did not even want to remotely entertain, because if he fell down that rabbit hole, he’d never climb back out.

Because yes, he did like Derek. He liked him a lot, the start for his liking towards the man was innocuous enough- which is why it was a problem for Spencer. He didn’t realized he liked Morgan until it was too late. And now he had been battling these feelings for years. Spencer wasn’t ever going to act on them, he just had to live with them- which he had been doing, which he has been content with. But this new information, about Morgan being here, being part of PFLAG- it was going to make Reid’s mind implode in on itself.

~

Reid decided the best thing was to say; “I’m gonna get some water, I’ll be back.” To which Derek and Garcia both nodded to, and Spencer was off, away from the vendors stand and the only two people he knew at pride.

And while that was a good thing, it was simultaneously not so good. Because now he was alone, overwhelmed, and thinking too much. And now he had a task to do, find himself some water.

~

That task seemed to be more difficult than anticipated, as the prides layout was a confusing maze, spencer had to pass in front of a group of drag queens in order to get to the food trucks that were on site- but he eventually got there.

He walked up to the first food truck he saw, it didn’t matter what they sold, he wasn’t getting it.

“What can I get for you?” The cashier asked him, “Just a water, please.” He ordered, the cashier nodded and pulled a bottle out from a cooler that was nearby within the truck, handing it over to spencer as they told him his total, a dollar twenty five. Spencer paid quickly, stepping back and away from the food truck, as he wasn’t sure where else to go now. He didn’t want to go back towards Derek or Garcia, he honestly wanted to go home.

He just needed a minute, some space and time to breathe and relax. He was stressing himself out. And about what? Nothing of goddamn importance, just a stupid crush he had been living with for a while now.

~

Spencer had been leaning against the back the food truck for not long, only a couple of minutes as he was absorbed in thought as he fiddled with the cap on the water bottle.

He was doing his best to follow the grounding techniques he had learned, something to help him calm down, when suddenly- a stranger emerged out of the crowd.

“Hey there, handsome.” The man said confidently as he strode up to introduce himself Spencer. Spencer looked up to meet his eyes, the man in question was a fine looking guy, chiseled jawline, long shoulder length hair, a bit of facial stubble. He was handsome. “Hello,” Spencer answered hollowly in response. In an ordinary situation, he would try and seem more lively- but he wasn’t in a normal situation, not at all.

The anxiety of attending pride was stress enough on its own, but now knowing the guy he had been drooling over for years was here- and worked as a PFLAG volunteer? It was enough to make him lose his mind.

The man didn’t seem to notice Spencer’s empty response, however, as he answered suavely in response; “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the way. I’m Fabian,” Thankfully, the man- Fabian, didn’t stick his hand out for a handshake, instead casually pushing his hair back a bit.

“I’m Spencer,” Reid replied simply, knowing it was best to ride this odd social interaction out, rather than try and fight it. “That’s a lovely name,” Fabian complimented, “Is this your first time at pride, Spencer?” He asked him casually, taking a step forward, closer to Spencer. He was all too confident for Spencer, he too comfortable with invading Spencer’s space. If Spencer could’ve, he would’ve stepped back.

“Uh, yeah. My friend dragged me along.” Reid explained, twisting the bottle cap back onto his half empty water bottle. Fabian nodded, “Your boyfriend didn’t take you?” Fabian asked him. That was a leading question, Spencer had alarm bells ringing in his head the second he heard it. “No. He- um- he met up with us here.” Spencer replied unconvincingly, Fabian obviously did not believe a word he said.

“Well,” Fabian took another step forward, practically blocking Reid in against the back of the food truck, leaning in farther to whisper in Spencer’s ear; “I don’t see him around. So, why don’t you and I get out of here? Hm?”

Spencer wasn’t sure of what to do. He wanted to kick this guy in the crotch and just book it, but he wasn’t sure if his FBI status would protect him in this scenario. He wasn’t sure what could protect him in this scenario.

“Pretty boy! There you are!” A saving grace broke through, and suddenly Fabian was stepping back, and Morgan was walking up.

Thank god, thank fucking god, that’s all Spencer could manage to think as Derek came to stand beside him. “Hey, babe.” Spencer said, cringing at his voice, at what he just said. But that feeling only lasted for a moment as Fabian was still standing right there, staring them both down now.

Spencer could only throw his wish in the sky and hope Derek caught it coming down, ‘please catch along to why I’m calling you babe’ Reid was trying to say.

And Derek caught it, “Hey, baby, was worried about you. Who’s your friend?” He said in his smooth voice, a voice Spencer couldn’t forget. He especially couldn’t forget now, being called ‘baby’ was something Spencer especially could not forget.

“I’m Fabian, you’re Spencer’s boyfriend?” Fabian asked, as if them both calling each other ‘babe’ counted for nothing. “Yeah, I’m Derek.” Morgan responded simply, sliding his hand around Spencer’s waist as if to prove a point. Fabian just nodded, looking between Spencer and Derek one last time before talking; “Well, it was nice to meet you, I’ve gotta get going. See you.”

And then, he was off, fast walking away from Derek and Reid, escaping the terrible situation he had created. Fabian quickly disappeared into the thick crowd, and by then Spencer had his hand squeezing his water bottle all too tightly- as evident by the terrible crunch sound it made. He was too anxious to let go.

“Hey, are you okay?” Derek asked him softly, pulling his hand away from Spencer’s waist. “Can we find somewhere else- can we go sit down?” Spencer asked him quickly. Reid didn’t want to talk about it right this second, right where it had happened. He wanted to leave, he wanted to leave pride and never come back.

~

Derek didn’t ask a single follow up question as he led Reid away from the food trucks, taking him back towards the vendors stands, and then a bit further back, into the normal-not-so-pride-parade-filled park area. Somewhere less stressful, less scary.

“What did that guy want?” Derek asked Spencer casually as they made their way towards a bench that was sat under a large oak tree. Spencer didn’t speak right away, instead he waited until they were seated to start talking.

“He was trying to flirt, but then he wanted me to leave with him.” Spencer explained as he took a deep breath in, just being away from all the loud sounds and sights was helping him calm down. Derek rubbed Spencer’s back in slow, circular motions as Spencer kept talking.

“He was a classic example of a narcissistic personality, it just made me so uncomfortable- he invaded my space.”

“He was a creep, Reid. Simple as that,” Derek kept rubbing Spencer’s back slowly, Spencer nodded. “I know. Sorry, it shook me up.” Spencer attempted to apologized, and Derek was immediately having none of that.

“Reid, no. Don’t apologize for that, don’t you dare. He was a creep, I’m sorry you got caught up with him. It’s okay if you’re shaken up. We can stay here until you feel up to going back, or we can leave. But I’m not leaving you.”

~

And so they sat for a good amount of time on that park bench, at one point Derek stopped rubbing Spencer’s back, instead just keeping his arm stretched out against the back of the bench and against Spencer’s back. Spencer loved it, but he knew if he thought about it for too long he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking. That was his biggest problem, he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had to know, he decided, he couldn’t just wonder why Derek was on the committee for PFLAG. He wanted to know, he had to.

“Derek?” He spoke up softly, sounds of laughing and shouting and music were still heard in the distance, but they were safe from the sounds under the tree. “Mhm?” Derek hummed in response, looking up at the aforementioned tree that was providing shade for them.

His eyes were tracing the way the branches curved and bent around each other, it was something he did to pass the time. Spencer thought he was extraordinary for it, Derek loved to see where things went; he was curious- after all these years, and all the bad they had seen together, Derek still loved to search and find the beauty.

“Why are you on the PFLAG committee ?” Spencer asked him, it was thankfully an innocuous enough ask to not draw too much of Derek profilings side out to pry apart his question. Derek shrugged, and was quiet for a second before responding, “I know what it’s like to be a scared kid, unsure of his identity. If I can help someone through that, that’s all that matters. Same reason I’m in the BAU, to help people.”

Spencer stayed quiet, Derek’s reason was so sincere and so sweet and kind- and only driving him to think further. Was Derek still unsure of his identity? Was he an ally? Why did he have to make Spencer swoon so hard without even trying?

“So, you’re just an ally?” Spencer approached Derek carefully with that question, not wanting to impose or be rude- but just feign simple curiosity, praying Derek wasn’t using his profiling skills right now to decode Spencer’s fake motive.

Derek didn’t notice, thankfully, as he chuckled lowly in response; “No, pretty boy, I’m bisexual. I don’t really tell the team, but it’s not confidential information. Plus, Garcia found Grindr on my phone. Can’t hide anything from that girl.”

Spencer nodded, mumbling something in response about how Garcia had hacked his email to make sure he was free for pride. And then, the two fell into silence again. But it didn’t last for long, because Derek wanted to know just as much, why was Spencer here?

“What about you, Reid?” Derek asked him cautiously, the way you approach a puppy you find on the side of the road. Calm and slow, trying to get him to trust him bit by bit. “What about me?” Spencer asked, not wanting to answer anything about himself unless Derek was specific.

“Are you an ally?” Morgan asked him, leaving the question open ended. Spencer could say as little or as much as he wanted. This is how you get him to open up, Derek knew that for a fact. “Um.. yeah, I mean- who isn’t? I just- I have to be. I’m.. gay.” Spencer admitted all too awkwardly, not at all in a normal fashion. But nothing about Spencer was in normal fashion.

Derek nodded slowly, not responding as he stared back up, tracing his eyes over the tree branches yet again.

~

A few hours had passed, Spencer and Derek eventually left their peaceful bench under the large oak tree, and instead moved back towards the parking lot.

“Garcia’s got a ride home already- I think she got that drag queen to get her home.” Derek explained as they approached his truck, Spencer nodded as he followed Derek. “Anyways,” Derek continued speaking, “I can give you a ride home. Let’s get going.”

“You don’t have to-“ Spencer started, Derek immediately shut him down. “I want to, c’mon. It’s late, you’re tired. I know you are. Let me take you home.” Spencer just nodded in agreement, he couldn’t argue with Derek, even if he did try. Morgan was a stubborn man.

So, Spencer followed Derek into his truck, and they sat in comfortable silence as they started on their journey back to Spencer’s safe space, his apartment.

~

By the time Derek pulled his truck into the apartments parking lot, Spencer knew something was just the slightest bit wrong. Derek had barely spoken for the entire ride, and usually he loves to say something, to make Spencer smile or laugh, or even just nod and mumble in agreement. But he had done none of that on the way to Spencers.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, turning to face Derek as he put the vehicle in park. Derek didn’t meet his eyes, staring at the steering wheel instead as he spoke; “Yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?” Spencer pried, absentmindedly unbuckling his seatbelt as he spoke, “About today.” Derek said, not explaining further. “Was today bad?”

Derek shook his head, “No. It started weird, it’s ending pretty good, though. But I’m gonna regret today forever if I don’t do something right now.”

Now, Spencer was confused. Not sure at all what Derek could be talking about, “What do you mean?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

Derek said nothing as he unbuckled his own seatbelt, turning to face Spencer as well, and then he leaned in- closer than they had ever been before. Their noses were almost touching, and Spencer didn’t move. Instead, he watched Derek’s eyes expectantly.

Then, Derek broke through, they were no longer intersecting each other’s personal space- now they were fully destroying each other’s atmospheres. Derek’s lips were on Spencer’s, a chaste, soft, quick kiss- something Spencer would have wanted to go for a lot longer. But then, he pulled away just as fast.

“...That’s what I meant..” He mumbled after a second, looking back towards the steering wheel, looking away from Spencer- and more importantly, not seeing the smile on Spencer’s face.

Spencer couldn’t help it. He knew it was terrible to be smiling right now- he should jump and say something to fix what was happening. But he had to smile, he couldn’t believe that had actually just happened, his brain was still computing and re-circuiting, trying to savor the memory and not forget how Derek’s lips felt against his.

Spencer dragged himself out of his own head quickly, though. He did all he could think of to do in the moment, get Derek back. “Morgan.” Spencer said, tugging on Derek’s sleeve as he did so, forcing him to look back at Spencer and meet his eyes again.

But Spencer didn’t say anything, and he didn’t give Derek the chance to speak, either. Instead, he leant forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s. This is all he had wanted to know for the longest time, and now he had it.

~

Maybe pride wasn’t so bad after all, you just have to be with the right people for it to work out.

———————————————————————

[bittydragon]

The Ant King

Note: Huge thanks to Bittydragon for inspiring me to write this. I’ll be honest, this is the first fic I've ever actually written, as well as the only piece of creative fiction I've written in like two years so… fingers crossed it goes well hahaha.

TW: tight spaces, darkness, uh,,, bugs i guess. Near death experience

  There are things you have to know about ants when you get an ant farm. Basic fundamentals. What to feed them, how to keep them alive, what type of ants you have, etcetera. Even if your intentions were… torturous. After all, you need to know what makes something tick in order to make it stop.

One of the more common facts about ants is that every colony has a queen. She orders her ants to keep her alive so she can make more ants. Simple biology, the continuation of a species. Every nest has a queen, or it dies.

Apparently, this colony didn’t get the memo.

These thoughts buzzed in grumpy circles around Wilbur's’ head as he followed his ant companion, Tommy, deeper into the ant-farm. They had been wandering these tunnels for what felt like days now, in the center of the farm so there were no glass barriers to show the outside world. They were deep too. Almost at the bottom of the compound. Wilbur was not one to show fear, but even he was beginning to get claustrophobic.

Tommy, who up until now had been jabbering like a toddler the whole trip through the ant-farm had also gone uncharacteristically silent. The whole trip Wilbur had wanted nothing more than a few seconds of quiet from him, but now he missed the carefree noise.

They were on their way to see the ant King. A type of ant that, as far as Wilbur knew, didn’t exist. So either they were on a wild goose chase, or Will was way out of his depth.

The further they went, the more he was convinced it was the latter.

“Tommy do you-” Wilbur paused, his echoing voice in the tunnel almost felt like a taboo. An affront to the maddening silence that stalked them. He lowered his voice.

“Do you think… Will I ever get back to normal? Will the ant king change me back?” He hated that little quiver in his voice. He hated the uncertainty. The waiting.

Tommy continued to march forward silently, pondering the question.

“I dunno big man, I think you’ve changed heaps since you got here.” He turned his head to flash Wilbur a grin “Then you’ll be out there and all nice n shit. It’ll be poggers.”

The tunnel was dark, but not dark enough to hide the flash of uncertainty in Tommy’s eyes.

Wilbur's heart sank. “Thanks mate.” He mumbled, and they trekked on, once more in silence.

  By the time they saw light, it felt like they had been walking for days. Wilbur was almost glad he was about to meet possibly one of the most powerful ants in this colony. They rounded one last bend, and they were there.

Before them stood a huge double door set in the wall. Two vines with some kind of glowing fruit framed the door, shedding light on the small space. In front of the door, leaning on a spear made from a twig was another ant with a pair of large white rimmed goggles. 

“Well… This is it I guess.” Wilbur muttered. He cleared his throat “Hey, um. I-i’m here to have an audience with the King? If that's alright.”

The guard ant didn’t respond, continuing to stare at them with no discernible expression.

“H-hello?” Wilbur glanced at Tommy, who shrugged.

“Excuse me? Anyone home?” Wilbur snapped his fingers in front of the ant's face.

He seemed to startle slightly, before slumping down a bit and letting out a loud snore.

“What the fuck” Tommy said.

Before anyone could do much of anything, one of the massive double doors creaked open and a voice came through.

“George, I swear if you fell asleep again, I'm going to rip off your antenna and use them as- oh.”

Another ant entered the room, this one also carried a twig-spear and had a strip of white cloth tied around his forehead.  As soon as his gaze landed on Wilbur, his expression soured.

If looks could kill… Wilbur thought nervously

“It’s you” The new ant spat “Took your sweet time getting here Soot. Earthquake slow you down? Didja get a taste of your own medicine from your big pals out there?”

Wilbur pursed his lips, and the ant snorted. “Yeah. Thought so.” He walked forward and gave George a hard shove, sending the other ant sprawling with a startled yelp.

“Sapnap what the hell?!” He snapped, before spotting Wilbur and Tommy. “Oh hey. That guy is here.”

“Yeah he’s here, idiot.” Sapnap smacked George over the head with his spear “And we would have known a lot sooner if you hadn't fallen asleep on duty again!”

“OW! Sapnap stop! Get off me!”

Wilbur cleared his throat, drawing their attention “Sorry to interrupt, but me and my friend have been walking for a long, long time, so could we please have an audience with the King?”

Subpoena glared “Yeah. He’s waiting for you. Against my advice, he wants to see you.”

Oh. That… didn’t sound great.

Wilbur tried not to think about the implications of that statement as he approached the double doors. Tommy moved to follow, but was stopped by the guards.

“Hey!” He groused “Let me through dickheads!”

“I'm afraid the King only wants an audience with the great and powerful Wilbur Soot” Sapnap said with a smirk.

“But I want to go too! Let me in! You stupid ugly bitch ill fight you! You may have a fancy stick but just wait until I pull out my knife-gun!”

“Tommy its fine.” Wilbur interrupted “I’ll be fine mate, promise. Just wait here. I wont leave without saying goodbye.”

The last thing he saw was Tommy’s antenna drooping sadly, before the doors swung closed behind him.

  If Wilbur thought the tunnel was dark before, that was nothing compared to the room he was in now. The darkness was so thick, so absolute, that it made no difference if his eyes were open or closed.

“Hello?” Wilbur called “Uh… your majesty? I was told that you wanted to see me.”

His voice echoed slightly in the huge space, but there was no reply.

Wait. What was that? Something rasped ever so slowly across the opposite wall. Something big. As it moved, the moss where it had been standing glowed a dull green.

Bio-luminescence Wilbur reasoned. Trying to distract himself from the fear creeping up his spine. Touch activated, it seems.

He swallowed dryly “L-look, just tell me what you want. I’m not here to cause trouble”

The thing moved again, its raspy scuttle reverberated through the chamber.

“Wilbur Soot, not here to cause any trouble” A thoughtful voice hummed from the dark “Now that’s a first.”

The bio-luminescent moss was lighting up more of the room. If he squinted, Wilbur could make out a... leg. Probably.

Wilbur inches slowly to the side, the moss lighting up his own path. “Okay, I get it, I've done morally questionable things in the past, but I've learned a lot from my time here. I’m sorry.”

“For now” The voice replied. The thing was moving on the other side, matching him step for step. “What's to say you aren't faking remorse to get out of here? And maybe you really are sorry. How can I be sure you wont change your mind the second you're back to normal? It's too much of a risk.”

Wilbur continued to back away nervously “Your majesty-”

“Please, call me Dream. Everyone else does.”

“Right… Dream. I can say with 100% certainty that won't happen. I've seen people die in front of me. That’s enough to change anyone's stance on something.”

“And yet I'm still not convinced.” It was moving faster now, scuttling across the floor, walls and even across the ceiling. Wilbur's head spun with the motion. “And since we’re talking in hypotheticals, riddle me this: Whoever said I was going to let you out anyway? What if I just like to play with my food?”

Dream stopped suddenly, rearing over Wilbur, and with all of the lit up moss, he got his first proper look.

This ant was huge. Twice- no, at least three times the size of Wilbur himself. He looked a bit like a centaur, with a human torso connected to a pure white and thorax and abdomen.He also wore a strange white mask with a blank eyed smiley face drawn on.

Two huge claw arms- similar to those of a praying mantis- extended from Dreams waist and slammed into the dirt either side of Wilbur, startling him enough that he fell onto his ass. The king leaned forward with that lifeless grin, and Will closed his eyes, preparing for the end.

“But…” Dream said thoughtfully “A proper experiment should account and test for all variables, shouldn't it?”

“Y-yeah generally” Wilbur stuttered

“Oh good.” Dream hoisted him roughly to his feet. “I’m glad I asked you. After all, you know all about experiments, don’t you?”

Wilbur chose not to answer, glowering at Dream as the eyes on his mask briefly glowed a dull green.

A moment later, Sapnap and George marched in, dragging a cussing and struggling Tommy behind them.

“YOU STUPID MOTHEFUCKERS!!! Let me go or ill get married in rage!! Fuck you and-! Oh. wow that is a big fella.” Tommy stopped and stared in awe at Dream

“Sapnap, give Wilbur your spear.” Dream ordered.

A flicker of doubt crossed Sapnaps face but he obediently shoved the spear into Wilbur's hands.

“I’ll make you a deal, Wilbur Soot.” Dream purred, circling him. “I will let you go to your old life. You can do whatever you like; kill us, torment us, throw us away… it doesn't matter. All you have to do is kill one ant.” He gestured to Tommy.

“What?” Wilbur whispered.

“WHAT?!” Tommy roared “fuck you! I'm not your dumb-ass pawn, I'm going to kill you! Rrrrrrrrrrr!” he writhed, attempting to bite George who did a surprisingly good job of holding him still.

“Go on.” Dream cooed “It's just one insignificant ant standing between you and freedom. You've killed hundreds. What's one more?”

Spear in hand, Wilbur took a hesitant step forward.

Tommy's gaze snapped up “Wilby?” He asked, his struggling pausing for a moment.

Their eyes met, fear clashing with sorrow. Tommy seemed to see something in Wilbur's expression and hung his head in defeat. As if he had expected Wilbur to betray him.

Oh hell no. Fuck that. Wilbur angrily tossed the spear aside.

“No. I won't.”

“What?” Dream spat

Wilbur rounded on him “No! I won't kill him! Keep me here, kill me, hunt me for sport, whatever! Just leave him out of this! Tommy has been nothing but nice to me since I met him, even though it don't deserve it!” He rubbed his arm. “God knows I don't deserve it.”

“Hmm…” Dream hummed “Are you sure, even if it costs you your life?” One of Dream's massive claw arms grazed his side, a subtle threat.

Wilbur looked over at Tommy, who had a look of hope on his face.

“Yeah.” Will smiled, “I'm sure.”

I probably could have written more, but i wont. I hope you like this fic bitty! Thanks for reading :)

Edit: Fortune, this is amazing! Like, I hadn't really thought about this encounter in a lot of detail, but I honestly like this a lot! And Dream being a big boy since he's the king ant. Just yes. Thank you so much for this.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Sensate Focus

A bitch takes one Human Sexuality class and gets stuck on the fucking Sensate Focus bullshit then has to write a fic about it. Its me. I’m the bitch. 😂

Warnings: Geralt is self depriciating-whats new, insecure jask, insecure geralt, overwhelmed by touch, big vulnerability, they’re in couple’s therapy, so like, its a rocky relationship, we got some connection building and cuteness in the end too, its not all bad, mentions of sex, nudity but like not in a smutty way, for once I dont think i used a single swear word? I had big feels while writing it i really hope they translated lmao.

I am but a humble psych major, not an actual therapist, so plz don’t come at me if shit isn’t accurate. I tried my best.

Also this is under a cut for a reason, not just length. If you are easily triggered by touch starved type fics this is not for you. It gets emotionally heavy plz read with caution.  

____________________________

“You want us to what?” 

“Come on, Geralt. You said you’d try.”

“I- no. Just- why? What’s the point?”

Both Geralt and Jaskier turned to their therapist, each equally confused and a little scared. 

The tiny woman kept her face completely impassive and answered his question, “The exercise helps people get out of their heads and reacquaint themselves with, not only being open with their partner, but also slowing down and enjoying touch for touch sake. Without being so focused on the end goal of sex or pleasing a partner, people can begin to refocus on the connection attachment theorists claim is the underlying motivation for sex without reproduction in the first place.”

Geralt swallowed hard. This was for him and he knew it. He’d said it himself, he was fucking terrified of failure and rejection and that absolutely extended to Jaskier. His husband. Of five years. Who’d been with him for ten. Logically it made no fucking sense, but the woman with the PhD had told him this was rather normal for a child of divorce as if he’d said he didn’t like horseradish sauce. He didn’t see how being scared of your spouse secretly hating you was normal in the slightest. 

He glanced over at Jaskier who sat at the other end of the black leather sofa picking at his nails. When they’d gotten married they’d laze around all day just holding each other and talking. It was safe and sweet and Geralt couldn’t for the life of him remember how it was tainted.

“Alright,” he grunted, “What’re the rules again?”

-

The next afternoon they’d carved out an hour and a half with no distractions, no phones, not even any music to Jaskier’s dismay. Apparently that was against the ‘guidelines - not rules’. 

They stood in their bedroom, lights dimmed and curtains drawn, as much for the ambiance as for the privacy. Geralt felt his stomach flip flop as he stepped out of his clothes, feeling a bit ridiculous. It’s not as if this was the first time they’d seen each other naked, but it was the first time they were to spend ‘as much time as necessary’ -whatever that meant- touching each other, one at a time. 

Jaskier dropped his clothes in the laundry bin and stood with his arms crossed, almost like he was hiding, “Right. So… Do you want to go first? Maybe go over things again?”

“Do you want to go first?” Geralt asked, immediately drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to gnaw at the peeling skin. 

“I just want to know why you look so scared, to be honest,” Jaskier breathed. 

Geralt took a deep breath, reminding himself that he wasn’t the only one being vulnerable here, “Not scared. Just nervous.”

“Rules then?”

Geralt nodded, “No talking. No, uh, erogenous zones. No sex. No kissing. If you don’t like something or it’s a big turn on or it tickles, move the other person’s hand.” the weight in his chest lessened a little bit, this really was simple. Just touching Jask. Something he’d done a million times. Hell he might not even get anything out of it. He didn’t need to be so damned worried about things going wrong. 

“If you get overwhelmed think about temperature and texture and how it feels. Don’t think about what the other person is thinking or feeling. The only bit that matters is moving their hand,” Jaskier added, his posture relaxing ever so slightly as he rocked up on his toes and back down.

Geralt stepped a little closer, holding out his pinky finger, “We don’t stay still if we don’t like something.” He said it more to reassure Jaskier than anything. 

Jask hooked his pinky around Geralt’s and smiled, “No barreling through,” he agreed. 

“Can I, uhm… go first?” Geralt kept their pinkies hooked together as he let their hands hang between them. 

Jaskier looked surprised, but nodded fervently, “Of course!”

“Okay,” Geralt pulled his hand back and ran it through his hair before stepping a bit closer, hovering both of his hands over jaskier’s shoulders, “So I just-?”

Jaskier nodded and whispered, “No talking, love.” 

Geralt let out an amused huff, the irony of the words bringing a soft smile to his face. He took a deep breath in and slowly let it out as he placed his hands over Jaskier’s arms. 

Sensations. He could do this. He was doing this.

Jaskier’s arms were soft, both in texture and in feel, giving way to Geralt’s fingers ever so slightly when he squeezed. He trailed his hands down over Jaskier’s elbows, noting the patches of dry skin over the joints that Jask had been scandalized by in college. His forearms had more hair, but it was softer than Geralt’s, silky even, and nice to touch. Geralt trailed his fingers down Jaskier’s wrist and back up, watching as the little hairs stood on end but seemed to stick to the pads of his fingers as he moved past them. When he noticed the goosebumps he glanced up to Jaskier with mild panic in his eyes, worried he’d already fucked it up and made him uncomfortable. But his husband just nodded, a light smile on his lips. 

Temperature. Back to task.

Geralt picked up Jaskier’s hand, holding it in one of his as he skimmed his fingers over his knuckles and calluses. His palms were warmer than the back of his hand and it seemed every spot where his skin had built up from use was just a tad colder than the thinner skin next to it. 

He gently guided Jaskier’s hand back down and trailed his hand up his arm, ghosting his fingers over his collar bone. He thought about how much softer this skin was, and how it made the butterflies in his stomach go wild as he moved back and forth over the spot a few times. He liked the pleasant little pitfall of his stomach, not arousal but not unlike it, just a little higher in his abdomen and lighter. He moved his other hand to mirror his movement’s on Jaskier’s other shoulder, palms soon coming to rest over his chest almost on their own. 

Geralt was so aware of his hands they almost felt numb. It made him think of one of those motor skills brain maps where it showed how much of your brain was devoted to moving which part of your body. Those huge chunks devoted to his hands must have been screaming. 

Jaskier gasped as a bit of his chest hair got caught in Geralt’s ring as he swept his hands downward. Geralt gave him an apologetic look but just got a grin and slight shake of his head in return instead of the shock he expected. 

Geralt continued, moving his hands in slow circles over Jaskier’s abdomen and hips and flanks, marveling at the warmth he felt not only under his hands but spreading through his chest. He let his hands rest above Jaskier’s hips, just at the bottom of his ribs and watched as his hands slowly moved apart and back together in time with Jaskier’s breath. It looked like such a small movement, but when he closed his eyes he felt like he was throwing his arms wide open. He tried matching his breathing to Jaskier’s, but that was close to overwhelming, so he moved on, refocusing on the texture and thickness of his chest hair as he moved up to his neck. 

One of his hands stayed resting on Jaskier’s chest as his other brushed up the side of his neck with the backs of his fingers. Even with such light pressure he could feel the thick ropes of muscle and tendons under his skin. It was warmer over his pulse point and Geralt’s breath hitched when he felt the little thump of a heartbeat under his fingers. He closed his eyes for a moment, surprised to find himself taking a deep breath, not out of fear or frustration, but to sink into the feeling as much as he could. He counted the beats, making a note of how comforting the feeling was. The longer he held his fingers in place, the softer the beats became, until they leveled out to a soft and steady thrum. 

When Geralt opened his eyes the beats picked up, matching the strange look on Jaskier’s face. Geralt moved his hand over his jaw and back a few times. He could almost hear the ridges of his fingerprints catching on Jaskier’s stubble as he traced over his upper lip. 

He felt a soothing sense of familiarity when his fingers grazed along the outline of Jaskier’s lips. His body latched onto the feeling and he found himself starting to get watery eyes as he reacquainted himself with the thin pink skin. He remembered their first kiss and how much it scared him even though he craved it so completely. He remembered kissing Jaskier over and over and over when they’d finally said ‘i love you’ and dropped the casual pretense. He remembered their kiss at their wedding, soft, firm, and a little wet with happy tears. 

An annoying voice that sounded an awful lot like their therapist sounded off in his head, “This is what I was trying to tell you, asshat. Focus on the positive.” 

Geralt smiled despite the sharp tug behind his eyes that told him he might cry, and brushed his fingers up over the thin skin beneath Jaskier’s eyes, careful not to press hard enough to catch and pull at the blueish skin. He traced his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his cheekbones and hollows, his chin, and his cupid’s bow, all with that same surprisingly pleasant near-tears feeling in his chest. He watched Jaskier’s eyes watching him as he carded one hand through his hair. 

That was what did it, what made the tears start to dribble down his cheeks as his hands continued to gently comb through his husband’s hair. The look of wonder and relief he was met with was overwhelming. He felt a bit of guilt, sure. Guilt for letting things get as bad as they’d been, but he was overwhelmed by how much love he felt. It permeated his whole body and the air around him. He hadn’t even felt this in the beginning; this was a settled and sure feeling, not the frantic need he’d felt before. 

Geralt pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes, sending a fresh wave of tears over his cheeks as he brushed his hands over Jaskier’s back. He traced his spine, counted every rib, and outlined his shoulder blades with the tips of his fingers. 

Their fronts were pressed together, but technically it wasn’t against any rule, so neither of them moved back. Geralt’s hands moved to the dip in Jaskier’s hips, his thumbs brushing over the place where his skin creased when he sat and Jaskier wrapped his hands around his wrists. A warm puff of air washed over Geralt’s face as Jaskier breathed a small laugh and moved his hands up. Surprisingly enough, Geralt was only amused by being moved, filing the information away for later as he settled for measuring Jaskier’s breaths again, now leaning into the full body tingle he felt when they both exhaled. 

He wanted to stay right there for hours, but he suddenly wanted Jaskier to touch him. More than that, he wanted Jaskier to feel like him. He gave his sides a gentle squeeze as he straightened up and rocked back a bit, making the smallest bit of space between them.

“Switch,” he whispered, the soft sound coming out like crunching gravel in the charged silence. 

He let his hands fall to his sides as he opened his eyes, a little relieved to see he wasn’t the only one crying. 

Jaskier immediately reached up to cup Geralt’s cheeks and brush the tears away. It was odd, having to stay still when Jask was right there, when he could still feel the echoes of the sensations in his hands. But he stayed put, if for nothing else than the look of cautious excitement Jaskier was wearing. 

He wanted to tell him there was no need, that he would gladly spend the rest of the day standing in the dim light of their bedroom, silently taking turns softly caressing each other. But rules were rules.

Jaskier drew his hands a little closer together over his cheeks, making sure all the tears were smudged away with his thumbs as Geralt’s eyes fluttered shut. The warmth of his hands was soothing, especially when Jaskier slowly brushed his thumbs over Geralt’s eyelids. As Jaskier dragged his fingers over Geralt’s chin and brushed the backs of his fingers back up and over his cheeks, Geralt almost started to feel dizzy. He forced his eyes open and focused on watching Jaskier’s face. 

His tongue stuck out between his lips as his hands fluttered down his nose and to his lips. A wistful smile graced his features as he brushed over the chapped skin, pulling his bottom lip down just enough so when he let go it popped when it jumped back up to meet his top lip. Geralt tried not to smile, wanting him to do it again, but raised an eyebrow. Jaskier openly grinned and popped his lip a few more times before smoothing his thumb over it. He tucked some hair behind Geralt’s ear and cupped his hands around the base of his neck, gently pressing his thumbs into the tense muscles. 

A shiver ran down Geralt’s back as Jaskier brushed his hands out and over his shoulders, thumbing circles over the points where muscle just barely covered bone. Geralt watched his eyes, watched the little crows feet get deeper when he smiled and watched his brows lift up and together. 

It occurred to him then that Jaskier might have been just as lonely as he was, that the exuberant extrovert he’d married wanted this as badly as he did. It truly never crossed his mind until he saw it written plain as day on Jaskier’s face; he wasn’t the only one with insecurities in their relationship. 

Every bone in his body wanted to pick Jaskier up and crush him to his chest. The trails of goosebumps his fingers left over his skin made it even harder not to, but Jask was enjoying this. He’d even go so far as to say he was lost in it. Rules be damned, Geralt couldn’t take this away from him if he’d wanted to. 

When Jaskier’s hands ghosted over his navel he shivered and let his eyes flutter closed. If he wasn’t going to break and move he should at least lean into it.

However, being held without expectations, without needing, or even being allowed, to do or say anything in return was beginning to seem overwhelming. How had Jaskier just stood there and watched him? How could anyone just stand and constantly be told with the light brush of someone else’s knuckles over their cheek that they were desired and cherished? When the hands pressed to his chest told him over and over that he was loved, what kind of escape was there? 

One of Jaskier’s hands once again brushed his tears away and he leaned into it, lip trembling as he looked up at the ceiling trying to compose himself. Jaskier would have none of it, gently tilting his head down until their noses brushed and he was forced to look into his watery blue eyes. 

He needed this. Geralt was terrified but Jaskier’s expression spoke of a yearning that ran so deep even he probably couldn’t put a name to it. Geralt licked his lips and offered a watery smile, feeling warm relief when Jaskier smiled back and ran his hands down his arms to rest behind his elbows. He squeezed the meat behind his arms, the tops of his forearms, the tendons in his wrist, making his fingers involuntarily curl. Geralt didn’t move, he barely breathed, as Jaskier watched his own hands roam over Geralt’s like he’d never seen anything like it. 

When he stopped trying to run the sensation faded to a dull roar. Jaskier’s hands were warm and his breath across his skin was gentle. Geralt might even admit he felt a little bit worthy of the adoration in his husband’s eyes after a few minutes. 

Jaskier’s touches were light in some places, firm and grounding in others. Like when he circled his arms around Geralt and pressed his palms into the small of his back, resting his forehead where his collar bones met. Geralt had no idea how something so simple could make him feel so weak. He knew it wasn’t entirely true, but it felt like the only thing holding him up was Jaskier’s touch. When he rocked back, even if it was only an inch or so, Geralt had to fight not to follow him.

Jaskier rested his hands over his ribs, just above his elbows, and stared into his eyes. 

They’d agreed to say ‘end’ with their therapist. That’s what Geralt was waiting for. So when Jaskier whispered ‘enough’ and gave him a gentle squeeze it was all he could do to bite down on his lip and keep quiet. Of course he would say enough. The one word Geralt had struggled with from day one. Being enough always felt impossible, but he could begin to think of it as a bit more attainable standing in their dim bedroom without a sound in the world other than their breathing. 

He nodded and they both picked up their notepads and scribbled down the notes they were supposed to. Geralt’s was just a list of words but he didn’t care, he filled most of the page and chucked it on the bedside table before tugging on his sweats. 

When he looked up for Jaskier he found him staring at him, worry on his brow and pen hovering over what looked like a second nearly full page. 

“Do you, maybe want some tea while you write?”

He licked his lips and nodded, adjusting the blanket wrapped around his shoulders before going back to frantically scratching words onto his page. 

Geralt gently closed the door after him and took a deep shaky breath as he padded into their bright kitchen, running his hands through his hair. The kettle seemed to take forever with how fast his mind was racing, replaying every bit he could to lodge it in his memory. 

Jaskier was just closing his notebook and setting it on top of his laptop when he opened the door with his foot, careful not to spill any hot liquid on the carpet. 

“Thank you,” Jaskier whispered, taking his cup and sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Geralt joined him and draped an arm over his blanket wrapped shoulders, “Of course.”

They slurped at their mugs in silence until Geralt was able to take a full sip without scalding the roof of his mouth. 

Jaskier’s voice was soft as he spoke, the air from his words interrupting the steam drifting up from his mug, “Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” Geralt leaned in just a hair. 

“Why did you look up?” Jaskier rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder as he asked and it took Geralt a moment to remember he was supposed to answer.

“I…” he took a deep breath to pull his words together before he mis-stepped, “You stood still and watched me, and looked happy… and I wanted to do that for you… but I started crying again and I-hm. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t want to be there-here. Wherever.”

One of Jaskier’s hands drifted from his mug to Geralt’s thigh, “I was just worried.”

“Didn’t translate, huh?” Geralt asked, giving him a light squeeze. 

“Not quite,” Jaskier chirped, almost giggling. 

Geralt hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head, “I’m sorry.” 

“S’okay. Now I know.”

There were a few more moments of silence before Geralt chuckled, “I didn’t realize your hips were so ticklish.” 

Jaskier snorted, an attempt at sipping his tea absolutely aborted to save a spill, “I’ve never been ticklish, Geralt.”

Geralt set his tea on his knee and tilted Jaskier’s chin up to look at him, suddenly concerned, “What didn’t you like about me touching your hips?”

Jaskier’s goofy smile turned a little sly, “Absolutely nothing. In fact,” he started, taking both their half finished teas and setting them on the window sill before turning to envelop Geralt in the blanket with him, pulling him down onto the bed, “I liked it a bit too much.”

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost​ {message me to be added!}

[not-your-damsel]

Craving You

Word Count :: 4,994

A/N :: Go easy on me, my sweeties. This is my first full fic in the hottest of minutes.

This is just some soft, tender, Husband! Hitoshi Shinsou x Pregnant Fem! Reader missing each other dearly. We’re sticking with Keiid’s adult version of Toshi because that version of him has me absolutely fuckin’ weak 🥴

CW :: Minors DNI, NSFW, 🔞, Smut, Tender Loving Hours, Slight Choking. Pretty much it, I wanna say.

You will 100% be blocked if you’re a minor liking/re-blogging this work, or if your age isn’t in your bio and you’re liking/re-blogging this work. Simple as that!

You woke with a start, small hand darting out to feel for your husband only to feel his side of the bed not only empty, but cold. You sighed and attempted to sit up, holding your rounded stomach, feeling as your body ached. “Toshi?” You called out, silence answering back before sniffing for any hint of coffee in the air that he so loved to brew, strong enough to wake the dead. Nothing. Had he even been home at all last night? Being pregnant had done some weird things to not only your body, but your senses and sleeping habits. You noticed you’d sleep deeper than usual, something you hated. You wanted to be able to know when Hitoshi got home, when he hit the bed, anything. You wanted to be able to help should he need it. Take the other night for example. On his way home from being out on patrol he stumbled on a man who was robbing the local convenience store and though he caught the robber, he hadn’t escaped the ordeal without the guy putting up a surprisingly good fight. Toshi came home that night beaten to hell and you’d spent the better part of the evening with him on the toilet while you cleaned and patched him up. He didn’t want the help, wanted you to rest with your swollen ankles raised but you wouldn’t hear of it. When you were done, you carded your fingers through his short wild indigo locks, kissing his forehead while he caressed your stomach before wrapping his arms around you. You slipped your black cat slippers on, waddling from the loft down to the kitchen to grab a cup of black tea. Once you finished there, you made your way to the bathroom, turning shower on to your desired temperature. Your back was hurting and you wanted nothing more than to have hot water splashing against the painful spot as hot as you could bear. Carrying a whole other human inside you was hard work. You couldn’t wait to get back to work, kicking ass alongside your husband, the Shinsou’s back at it being a top hero power couple. You felt so out of shape and bloated and your breasts hurt when they were too full of milk, back and ankles on fire and swollen... you just seemed to be in perpetual pain these last 2 months. Not only that, you and Hitoshi’s sexual activities had to be put on hold and that was getting to you both and you knew it. You didn’t have to ask Toshi to know how much he was aching for you to the point of it making him at least a little crazy. As reserved as he was, gentle in his demeanor with you, and calm as a still lake, he was a human and he had needs. He’d never tell you, but he had to keep himself on more than one occasion from ripping your clothing off and bending you over the nearest surface to fuck you silly. Your dom and sub roles in the bedroom had to also be put on hold because Hitoshi could be a particularly rough man when it came to that, never truly knowing the full extent of his strength. He’d been absolutely terrified out of his wits of being rough once you started to show.

Great. Now you were sorely in pain and horny. “Stupid, stupid woman.” You seethed at yourself. You were so lost in thought that you hadn’t noticed the door to the shower open. It wasn’t until you felt the cool air hit your back that you felt a large set of hands slide from your hips to cradle around your stomach, your body tensing ever so briefly before relaxing. “Hitoshi, you scared the shit out of me.” You breathed, your shoulders relaxing. “I’m sorry, kitten. Are you ok?” He asked, hearing his voice was more gruff than usual had you turning to look at him. The normal bags under his eyes now looked like a set of luggage. He’d taken on more hours over the past several weeks to help build up some parental leave for when his daughter was due, he was busy doing so much and you felt bad. You cupped his cheeks before stepping forward on the balls of your feet with your lips poised for a kiss. He lent the rest of the way down to meet you, the water hitting his short wild tresses in the process, wetting it. “Toshi, thank you. You’re doing a lot and it shows. I wish you could rest already, we appreciate it and you so much.” You held the back of his neck, your thumbs rubbing lovingly along the sides behind his ears. He gave a tired, crooked grin, pecking your forehead then your nose before pulling away and looking at you with love, “It’s all for you guys, I love you with everything I am and I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” He joked with a chuckle.

Before you had a chance to protest, moving to swat him at his choice of words, he grabbed your wrist and held it to his chest, dipping again to kiss you passionately, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip for permission, but you were already opening for him to invade your wet cavern with his muscle. Hitoshi’s kiss was hungry, conveying all the pent up want and need he had for you, his wife. His large hands roamed down your back, thick fingers skimming the curve of your spine before they landed at your hips giving them a loving squeeze only to then rest on each cheek of your behind where he pulled you against him, allowing you feel how hard he was for you. Gasping in his mouth before continuing the kiss, you threaded your fingers through his hair again, tugging and earning you a groan of pleasure from deep within his chest. With your hand still held against his chest, you dragged your nails across the neat indigo chest hairs that lay there before sliding over to graze over his nipple, hardening it. Toshi was breathing harder through his nose now, his hips rolling of their own accord before pulling away. You whined, eyes lidded and drunk off his searing kiss. He grinned before looking around your spacious rainfall shower to the built in bench. “Do you trust me, kitten?” Hitoshi asked. You shook your head in confusion. “What kind of... you know I do, with my life.”

Hitoshi guided you to the bench to sit for a moment before he stepped out of the shower to grab a couple of things. “I-I’ll be right back,” he said with his hands held up, nonverbally telling you to stay put, where you smiled and nodded as he stepped out of the bathroom. You’d heard him faintly talking to himself before a loud bang sounded out followed by him swearing under his breath loudly. “Toshi? Are you alright?” You called, tilting your head from where you sat with a hand on your stomach rubbing it. “I’m ok, my love!” He called before turning up at the door a moment later with a couple things in hand, namely a towel and his hero weapon, the capture cloth. You were puzzled to say the least. “What are you doing, sweetie?” You asked him with your brow cocked and lips parted in wonder. “Well, I know we haven’t been able to get as intimate as we’d normally like due to me being so busy at work and you being... being... so pregnant,” ‘Nice choice of words, Hitoshi.’ He mentally slapped himself, “So I had an idea while I was on my way home. Care to try?” He asked you, purple tried eyes looking at you so hopeful it ached you to see. You’d nodded and began the monumental task of trying to stand until he stopped you. “No, no, let me set it up, ok?” Toshi nodded as he helped you to sit back down again.

You guys’ shower was rigged in a such a way that there were bare decorative pipes that were hanging from the ceiling with holes drilled in them that assisted in providing the rainfall effect. Toshi rigged his capture cloth expertly through those pipes and used the towel, folded, against a portion of it. Before you knew it, you were looking at a rigged swing made out of the two items. The towel was placed as a little padding for a seat of sorts and Hitoshi stood back to survey his handy work. He nodded, happy with the look of it before looking back at you with a lopsided grin. “What do you think, kitten?” He asked, reaching his hands out to help you up from the bench. “I think it’s really smart... and I think you’ve been thinking about this for much longer than on your way home.” You poked at his side with your nails, causing him to jump a little before he grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it. “Ok, ok. I’ve been thinking of what to do for a couple of weeks now, you got me.” Hitoshi admitted, pulling you close into his side. “I just... I just really, really miss you.” He said lowly. You looked into his beautiful, tired eyes, noting that they were lust blown. His purple orbs almost drowned out by dark, black pupils resembling voids. Drinking you in, full of want and need, his hand roamed your back, squeezing in a massaging manner that had your own eyes slipping shut. He felt how tight and knotted various places of your back were, frowning to himself. “I miss you so much, kitten. So fucking much.” Hitoshi was now pressed against the side of your face, gruff voice in one ear as he kneaded the skin of your sore back. “Toshi, I miss you so much too, I wish I can know about your safety the way I used to.” You were now pressed against his body, your arms around his neck while on your tippy toes to reach him better.

Hitoshi’s hands abandoned your back to glide down your hips, further below to start squeezing the backs of plush thighs as he lent down to kiss you passionately, his tongue in your mouth again, exploring every inch of it trying to memorize it even after all these years together. “I missed the way you feel against me. I absolutely crave the way you taste to the point that it’s all I think about, getting in the way of my work, do you know that, little kitten?” Toshi said against your neck before he bit down on your pulse point. Moaning, your fingers dipping into his hair where your nails grazed his scalp. “Tosh- ah!” You squeaked, Hitoshi lifting you off the shower floor as your legs and arms immediately wrapped around your hulking husband for support, swollen, large belly pressed against his chiseled abs suddenly had you feeling some type of way as you stared down at where you both pressed together. “I love you.” You said, looking up to him to find that he was already staring down at you, watching as you took in the roundness of your stomach, holding his and your baby inside you. Your eyes brimmed with tears as he walked both of you to his little set up. “I love you, too. Baby? Baby what’s wrong?” Hitoshi asked, unsure if this was something that had to do with pregnancy hormones or something he possibly did. You hugged him, warm tears falling onto his shoulder. He held his capture cloth in place as he set you down, perching you on a few bands he’d lined up to make a makeshift seat that was plush from the towel he set there. He backed up cautiously in case you’d tip in any single direction and he needed to grab at you. You went to wipe your eyes but Hitoshi was already doing it. His large hands cupping either side of your face, large enough to eclipse your delicate face easily. It would’ve looked comical in any other circumstance, but he loved the way you fit perfectly in his hands.

“Talk to me, baby girl.” He said, squatting down to be able to look at you better. His hands now at your thighs, rubbing soothingly up and down them while occasionally rubbing your belly. “I’m happy is all. I just... as a pain in the ass as it can be sometimes, I couldn’t be happier carrying our baby.” you said, another round of fat tears spilling from your face. “I’m sorry, I’m all over the place and I missed you, I’m so stupid an-“ “Hey.” Hitoshi’s tone was stern, shivers instantly running down your arms and legs so strongly that even he felt the goosebumps break out across the skin of your soft thighs. “I don’t want my kitty cat talking about herself that way,” his hands now skimmed over the tops of your thighs, slipping in between them and parting them. “I take offense when my wife is talked about in any sort of negative capacity,” he leaned in closer, you were so enraptured by what he was saying, having not been spoken to like that for what felt like forever that you weren’t even paying attention to his actions. “Even if it’s from my wife.” He licked a fat stripe up your core, able to cover more ground with his tongue flattened, a hiss of a gasp being drawn in as your feet swung from the sensation. “Toshi!” You threaded your fingers through his hair and balled your hand into a fist, pulling his hair, spurring him on as he licked more forcefully, tongue delving into your hole as he nudged himself deeper into your wetness. His hands closed around your hips and pulled you closer, the stubble of his beard rubbing against your skin deliciously as he worked like a man starved.

Toshi was giving all he had then, moaning into you, as he slurped and sucked, tasting what he longed for for weeks. His hand closed around your thigh, propping it up over his shoulder to delve deeper. Even with the shower running you could see the pre leaking from Hitoshi’s tip. Wiggling a little and masking it as movements to his actions, you take your free foot and gently rub it against his length causing him to pull away with a hiss before looking up at you through purple lashes. His eyes became lidded, grabbing that same leg and throwing it over his other shoulder before diving back in and licking with fervor. “Ah, fuck!!” You yelped, feeling as though you’d fall backwards but Hitoshi’s hands wrapped around your back and pulled you closer, anchoring you in place, assuring your safety. It was then that he started to tongue fuck you, his wet muscle delving in and out while intermittently swiping up to pay attention to your clit when his nose wasn’t bumping into it. Your moans got louder, soft thighs shaking around his head as you felt your first orgasm approaching fast.

Hitoshi wrapped one arm around your back as sturdily as he could so he could bring a free hand into the mix. Two thick fingers slid into your core, replacing his tongue as he began pumping at a brutal pace, crooking them just right. “Oh, oh God...” Your voice shook, one hand in his wet hair and the other latched onto his shoulder, nails leaving crescent moon indents into his flesh now that your legs were free. Toshi’s breathing was ragged, his mind on one goal and one only, the one thing he’d been envisioning his fingers do for the last 4 nights at the agency while he filed reports into the early morning hours. Your walls began to flutter, his lidded purple orbs flitting to yours as he came up for air, watching his wife get overtaken with pleasure. “I love you... I love you...!” Toshi panted into your pussy before you threw yourself back from the force of your orgasm, liquid gushing forward and coating his arm and then his face as he dove in to lap up what he could, instantly wrapping his arms around you again for stability so you wouldn’t fall backwards. He went from vigorous licks to kitten licks which melted into soft kisses. Kisses leading from your drenched core to your thighs and then your stomach as he rubbed loving circles into it with his thumbs, getting up from his position on the floor of the large shower, kissing the top of your head when he reached his full height. “You did so good for me, my beautiful kitten, you always do. I love you, sweetheart.” He cooed. “I love you, too.” You panted out.

He tipped your worn out, blushing face upwards to look at him, still catching your breath but not caring as you leaned forward to reach for Hitoshi’s cock before he grabbed your hands softly. “Baby, no need... w-wait till we’re done here, I’ll be raring to go again.” He smirked. In your post orgasmic haze, you didn’t even realize that from the sheer visuals and moans alone that you’d provided was enough to make him come, the water having washed away his mess. Toshi gathered both of your wash items, placing them closer on the bench in the shower before helping you down off the makeshift swing to stand before himself. He deposited some shampoo in his palm before massaging it in your scalp, washing your hair before running his hands through it to rinse it. He did the same with the conditioner, only leaving it in your hair as he washed your body lovingly. Admiring every curve and dip, no sexual drive behind his actions, just pure love before rinsing you off. When he was done, you gently guided him down on the bench so you could reach his head properly. Hitoshi stood at a whopping 6’ 1”. He was always on the taller side out of the many students at UA, coming in at 5’ 9” when you two met but as the years went on, he just kept sprouting. You were smaller compared to him, standing shorter in stature, you just reached above his shoulder when you and him stood side by side and you loved it. You loved climbing him like he was a mountain, latching onto him, your smaller frame melting and melding into his larger one, and it was one of your most favorite things in the world when he was spooning you.

A large palm came to rest against your stomach as you worked the lather in his hair, pulling you from your thoughts. “What are you thinking about, kitten?” Hitoshi asked, feeling as his unborn baby would push against wherever he’d touch. “You.” You hummed to yourself as you rinsed his hair free of the conditioner, bending to pour some body wash on his washcloth. No loofahs for Hitoshi Shinsou in your house, ‘Too damned girly’ was how he’d put it and you giggled at the thought. “What’s so funny, hm?” He grinned lopsidedly, bending to kiss your stomach with his eyes closed, lips brushing across your skin. It was moments like this that you wanted to snapshot and put away forever for you to cherish, observing the endless beauty he never seemed to know he has. At least until the silent admiration was interrupted by him pulling away and holding his chin exaggeratedly. You laughed, as you rubbed the cloth over his neck muscles to loosen him up. “She’s gonna pack a wallop, huh?” He joked, rubbing his jaw as you nodded with a smile. Hitoshi sighed as you kept working the washcloth over his upper body, his back, pressing as hard as you could which earned you some relieved of grunts. “Up, sweetie.” You stepped back a bit as Toshi stood, willing the jelly feeling you’d imparted on him out of his body. Bringing the washcloth to his abs, you rubbed, the scent of his body wash filling your senses as you got drunk off it. Your husband always smelled so nice, so warm and comforting. Like a cozy cabin tucked away in the woods on a cold winter night, it brought you comfort and safety. He watched you work, noting how you’d pause every now and again to deeply inhale his scent and with every open of your eyes, the more they lidded. When you got to his member, it was semi erect. You looked up at him and he smiled with a wink, “I told you. Gimme that, I think we’re done here.” He said as he finished up the rest of his body in record time, you giggling at his quickness as you put the items away before he tossed the washcloth back in its spot, and swooped you into his arms.

You squealed out with a laugh, Toshi minding where your stomach landed, his broad shoulders between your breasts and stomach, pushing the door open and draping a large towel over your body before bringing the both of you to your bedroom where he gently plopped you onto your large bed. He hovered over your laughing frame, watching as water dripped down from his hair onto the bed above your own head. Your laughing slowed as you noticed his silence, smiling at him and bringing a hand to his scruffy cheek to thumb gently at a scar he had over the left side of his lips leading into his chin. He turned his head and kissed inside your palm, his hand wrapped around your delicate wrist as he held it against his lips. “Turn around, kitten.” He gruffed. Hitoshi was helping you maneuver, perching onto the bed himself as he molded the front of himself to your back, his fully hardened cock prodding at your ass cheek leaving a smear of pre along your skin. Kissing along your neck and shoulders, Toshi ran a large hand from your stomach to your thigh, grabbing and propping it against his own leg which he used to open you up. Your breathing was already uneven, knowing what was coming yet not getting to you fast enough, your hips already rocking back into him for stimulation only he could provide. Hitoshi chuckled against your ear, “Does my kitty want it that bad?” He teased, reaching his hand between the two of you to pump his cock in his fist, teasing your already wet entrance. “God, you’re already soaked, baby, fuck.” He gritted out. “Toshi, stop acting like you’re not dying too and make love to me already,” you whined. “You’re always so coc- HAH!!” Your hand flung upward to latch onto the back of Hitoshi’s head which was buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder, biting into the soft skin that lay there as he jutted his hips forward and sheathed into you in one fluid movement. He gave you time to adjust, running his hand up your body, softly squeezing your breasts and lovingly rubbing your belly as he pressed more kisses into your shoulder and neck, sucking hard enough at your pulse point to leave an immediate blooming bruise.

“To- Toshi please. Please, please I need you...” You begged him as he pressed more kisses into your damp hair, his hips starting to move to create that hot friction you both craved. It seemed he was panting like a dog within seconds, thick fingers pinching your nipples as gently as he could, breast milk dribbling down the tips as he rolled them between his tips. “Fuck, kitten!” Toshi was now snapping his hips faster into you, the bed creaking with each brutal thrust. The second the headboard hit the wall for the first time, it acted as fuel for Hitoshi to go even faster. Hips rutting into you from behind so hard it hurt in the best way. He could already feel your gummy walls twitch and clamp down on him, knowing that you were getting closer with each thrust. “Fuck, baby, the way you’re taking me so -shit!- so greedily, so fuckin’ well, you really missed my cock, huh? Answer me!” He almost barked out, feeling you clamp down on him particularly hard when he did. “Fuck your cock, I missed y-you, Hitoshi!” You moaned, your nails digging into his neck. He groaned lowly, breathily whispering out, “Oh my fucking God!” before his hand came down on the swell of your ass, the sharp sting causing you to clamp down on him again a little harder. The slap didn’t pack the usual punch it did with Hitoshi’s heavy hands, but it was enough and you both noticed.

You rolled your hips into him, meeting his thrusts with your own as that wonderful feeling of a taut invisible string began to fray inside your stomach. “So good, so -y-yeah!- s-so fucking good, Toshi I- I, Godfuckinghell!! Ugh, missed you, I missed you, I-“ a broken moan tore from your throat at the feel of Hitoshi rubbing circles against your clit, his thrusts reaching inside you deeper, the prominent vein that ran along his cock sliding against your walls. His breath was coming out in puffs against your neck and cheek, groans and moans sounding out from him just the way you loved. “Mmm, kitty cat, fuck, you’re gonna cum! C’mon now, c’mon, I wanna feel you cream all over this cock, your cock, this cock belongs to you, all yours...” he reached his other hand around, gripping your throat, getting lost in the pleasure as he railed into you, watching your face for any changes in discomfort, keeping mind of the baby. Once your eyebrows slightly furrowed, he loosened his hold, allowing you to catch your breath for a few beats before starting the process again. “Cum, cum because I fucking can’t hold on much longer you’re sucking me in so goddamn good!” Toshi growled in your ear, his hand abandoning your clit for a moment to spit on his fingers just to go back to rubbing it faster than before. As your smaller hand gripped his forearm for dear life, you came undone. “Toshi, fuck!!” Hitoshi felt his thrusting cock get wetter, slipperier, as he slowed his rubbing fingers through your orgasm having released your throat long ago.

Now he began driving into you with reckless abandon, seeking his own release which wasn’t far behind in the first place. The hand that was at your throat now wrapped around your shoulder, while the one that left your clit reached up to grab at your free hand, threading his large fingers through your own. “O-oh my God, oh my God I’m gonna cum, kitten, fuck, I’m gonna cum...” sloppy hips faltered even more before he gave one last strong thrust, stilling inside you spilling his warmth in thick spurts, giving 2 more soft slow thrusts before coming to a stop. The both of you were breathing heavily, Toshi’s head dropped onto your own before he bent down a bit to kiss your shoulder, his stubble scratching at the softness of your cheek. His hair was now dry, being short, it drooped down onto his forehead. There was a fresh sheen of sweat over both of your bodies, especially on his chest and your back. “I love you.” You said, your breaths coming out fast but not as harsh as before. Hitoshi wrapped his arms around you, pressing you into his almost too warm body, nuzzling in your semi damp hair inhaling deeply, “I love you, too. So fucking much, don’t ever forget it. I’m sorry I’ve been away so much, I just...” You shook your head, opening your eyes halfway. “No. I know why you do it. I can’t ever convey how much it means to me that you’re working your ass off for proper time with me and little Anzu once she gets here. Do I miss you? Of course I miss you, I miss you terribly. I also miss working with you. I never realized how spoiled I truly am until it came time for me to stay home from work. Getting to see you every single day, work alongside you, be out in the public eye with you... I never realized that I spend every moment with you. And now that I can’t, it has me a bit out of sorts I guess you could say.” You confessed, your eyes heavily lidded with sleepiness, voice soft and gentle.

The bed suddenly shifted, Hitoshi launching himself over your body and plopping next to you to face you causing you to squeak out in shock. He cupped your cheeks and brought you in for a slow, passionate kiss. Your smaller hands planted against his chest, fingers rubbing lovingly before scooting closer to him where he wrapped his arms around you instinctively. “I’m almost done, sweetheart. Just one more week, maybe even sooner if Anzu comes before then. And hey, if you want, I can help you train up again my agile, telekinetic kitten. Would you like that?” He asked into your hair at the top of your head. You hummed softly and he looked down having felt your hand slip off his chest and go limp, joining your other arm pressed against him and the bed. You were fast asleep, your breathing slow and deep as Toshi took a moment to look at you, large hand caressing from your head to your shoulder, only to glide down your back where he grabbed the blanket and draped it over the both of you, snuggling your body closer to his. “And I thought I was the one who got into people’s minds. I don’t deserve you, baby girl.” He whispered in your ear, kissing the side of your mouth before perching his head atop yours and falling asleep just as quick. You woke with a start, small hand darting out to feel for your husband only to feel his hand grasp yours and pull it to his lips, “I’m here, baby. I’m still here.” Hitoshi said as he cradled it in his own, pressed against his chest, a small smile gracing your lips before slipping back into the warmth of his embrace.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 4- You Cannot Cage A Wolf

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: Fuck the police and Ironman for that matter, now how the hell are you and Bucky going to manage getting out of this mess?

Warning: violence no duh, bucky going through it, bit o angst, things getting hectic

Masterlist

To say you were pissed would be the understatement of the century, again, you were locked in a cage of steel and glass. Surrounded by enemies who’d rather see you dead, but maybe you deserved it. 

Maybe.

The Romanian combat police had locked you and Bucky into separate concealed glass confinements before loading the two of you into one long metal truck. Purposely facing the tiny prisons face to face with one another so that you would have full access to witnessing the discomfort and irritation on each other’s faces while armed officers sat to either side.

Well you’re not sure if it was exactly intentional, but still, at least you could make sure Bucky was okay and him you.

Your hands and legs are guarded by thick metal as your shoulders and upper arms keep firmly held by a small cage of steel; your body forced to sit for hours on end as the security trucks drive you both all the way to Berlin, Germany. A fucking 18 hour field trip by vehicle, at least you got some pee breaks.

Staring angrily at Bucky’s hand, you wish nothing more then to break out of here and fucking gut the assholes responsible for your unlawful imprisonments, Bucky did absolutely nothing to T’Challa and why the hell would they think you’re involved with his fathers death? It doesn’t make any sense. Not at all.

Why would anyone want the two of you for that matter?

Suddenly the truck jostles and stirs before stopping completely as you start to feel the shift of the vehicle reversing into something, your eyes immediately look up to find Bucky who’s already focused on you. His eyes are sad and full of pain for how they’ve treated you like an animal, caged you like a wild cat, more so then what they’ve done to himself. He never wanted you to deal with any shit like this again, not after the traumatic history Hydra had befallen on you for so many years. You don’t deserve this.

Returning a small smile, you give him a playful wink of reassurance before your glass and metal prison is rolled backwards and away from Bucky. Your fists clench in vexation and enmity for the current shit situation you happen to be sucked into, you feel like a beast at a goddamn freak show. Soon you’re rolled into a yawning chasmal underground parking garage of sorts, as flashing emergency lights from police cruisers blink annoyingly from your left while their riders park. 

This must be some government building here in Berlin, you think, eyes wandering around at the secured cavernous glass and metal interior. Sliding clear doors make the entrance way to your far left wall, while further into the spacious room is a large wall of cement, more doors in various areas and a large staircase ascending into a giant balcony onto the next floor up.

Bucky’s cell is placed next to yours by another forklift as he glances at Steve drearily, while you throw nothing but an irritated scowl at the back of Steve just as Sam and T’Challa exit the black security van. Guards dressed in black attire close by. They soon make a swift yet cautious admission over to greet some short salt and peppered haired man in a dull grey suit, a blonde woman also with an equal amount of security by his side. Three armed guards in the back and three behind Steve. 

What the hell are these people so afraid of? And why is any of this happening?

You can’t quit tell what’s being said from the concealed limitation of your moveable prison to where these assumingly high end important government officials are placed. It’s incredibly frustrating that you could just about scream, but now where would that get you? Probably smacked by some electrical shocking stick, those bastards, you think bitterly.

Soon the group appears to make some agreement before the shorter grey haired man nods an approval of invitation and with that does Steve, Sam, and T’Challa follow the short man and blonde woman farther away. All you or Bucky are able to witness before the doors to the new hallway you’re currently being pushed into closes, is the group walking for some glass doors that show a long hallway.

Then the giant metal doors slam shut in your face. 

——

The forklift holding onto your portable prison cell ascends down the hallway as armed guards keep watch from both sides, walking in step with the pace of the lift as a set of eight in total surround yours and Bucky’s confinements. A minute later they bring your steel box into a windowless cement room, turning you to face the exit, your cells are rolled separately across some caution tape before all comes to a halt. Finally.

Your eyes follow the movements of regular security guards as they take long thick wires from the side of the stone walls, plugging them into your prisons as the lights inside flicker for a brief moment, stabilizing in a second. One guard gives you a wary yet curious glance before snapping his head down when your fearsome glare just about smacks him in the face, quickly after that, everyone leaves before shutting the sliding metal doors that hide you both from the outside world.

Waiting a moment, your eyes dance suspiciously across the room, “Y/N.” Calls Bucky, causing you to snap your attention over to him.

“What?” You mumble somberly, gaze trailing all over his stoically pensive expression, he’s without a doubt not pleased to be here. Though having you next to him makes things more bearable. 

“Can you breath alright?” He asks worriedly, due to the thick plastic half face mask that prevents you from properly communicating with anyone, guess the Romanian police didn’t appreciate you calling them bastards. Among other things.

“Yeah.” You mumble out once again before pulling up on the metal clasps to no avail, what is this even made out of, “They got us pretty good, Buck. This might be a bit of a challenge to get out of...”

“You think we’re getting out of these things?”

“Well.......I’m being optimistic....so, uh.....there’s always a chance.”

The smallest of smile reveals itself for a flash of a second as Bucky forgets where you are and just welcomes your never ending humor, “You think they’re watching us?”

“Without a doubt. If I could flip them off I would.” You chuckle as your eyes trail up to the tiny dark sphere in your prison, yeah that’s definitely a camera. “Dickheads.” You mutter to whoever is listening.

“What do you think they’re going to do to us?” Wonders Bucky after a long moment of silence.

Taking a heavy breath you lean your head back, “Oh I don’t know. They’ll probably put me down like an old dog and then you’ll get broken out of jail by the Captain America himself.......you’ll probably be fine.”

Shaking his head, he looks over at your relatively bored face, “What if we’re not.”

Sensing his growing anxiety for your future placement, you turn to face him, “Then I’ll......uh........break us out of here?” You muse with an unsure shrug, well the best you can with the steel hugging your shoulders.

“Not all of us can take multiple bullets and survive.” Deadpans Bucky as you frown, he’s got you there.

“Okay uh.....let me think for a second.......uh, alright I got it..” You chirp enthusiastically before your face falls just as quickly as you let out a defeated, “...fuck never mind I don’t want murder charges.”

Bucky could have laughed, “I think we’d need to be more stealthy, and anyways there’s to many cameras.”

“Yeah.” You mutter dully, “Too many goddamn cameras.”

After about twenty minutes of mindlessly sitting in your cell while Bucky sits equally as bored from his own space a couple feet next to you, a man of relative height and stature walks into the large windowless cement room, a black book shaped travel bag hanging from his shoulder. He smiles in greeting at the two of you, though you can tell behind those glasses of his it’s anything but friendly. It’s strange, the way that his dark eyes reveal no true form of kindness or pleasantries. 

Who the hell is this now?

The dark blondes beady umber irises flicker curiously from Bucky to you and back to Bucky again, a sort of childlike wonder flashing through them as he steps closer to the nearby desk.

“Hello, Mr. Barnes.” Nods the man in an almost Sokovian like accent, kinda sounds like you, greeting set on Bucky before he sends you a devious grin, “Miss. Valerious.” He nods, inquisitive eyes studying your stoic face of pure daggers as you breath steadily in your muzzle, “I’ve been sent by the United Nations to evaluate your partner here, so you needn’t worry, your time is not with me. But I ask if you please give me my time with him, that is all.” Assures the strange man as he focuses his attention back on Bucky again; eh, not like you have much of a choice.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Asks the dark eyed man as Bucky simply stares, suspicious and bored out of his mind; you naturally roll your scrutinizing leer as the man seats himself next to a table farther away in front of you two.

Guess he’s not leaving anytime soon.

“You’re first name is James?” Wonders the man though you can tell he already knows the answer; with pursed lips does he shrug innocently, “I’m not here to judge you. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know where you are James?”

Bucky keeps silent, and all you want to do is smack that annoying blondes glasses right off of his face, “I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.” Begrudgingly mumbles your irritated companion, while your brows set hard in puzzlement for where this conversation is going.

Writing something down in his notes, the man nods, “Tell me something Bucky. You’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?”

Bucky glares, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You fear that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop.” Mutters the blonde man as you scoff, his dark eyes instantly snap over to you.

“Come over here and I’ll show you something terrifying.” You threaten, though your voice is mumbled and husky through the damn mask covering your mouth from properly speaking. He hands you a fake smile in reply, appearing to enjoy your menacing presage nonetheless.

Dark eyes set back onto Bucky, he hums, “Don’t worry. We only have to talk about one.” You watch in curiosity as he looks down at his touchpad screen, a satisfied little grin appearing onto his thin lips when suddenly the lights go dark, sending the room into pitch blackness. 

Though your sight shifts to dull grays and blues to counter this with your enhanced vision. A second later the dim emergency lights glow from up above giving the room a dull blue tint. While a red one blinks off and on repetitively in the shadowed room. The fuck?

“What the hell is this?” Grumbles Bucky as your eyes trail warily and alert over to the man as he draws his chair back to stand, though he remains seated. 

“Why don’t we discuss your home? Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no.” Taking a faded red book out of his traveling bag, your eyes squint in suspicion as you notice a large black star printed on the front while he continues, “Your real home.”

oh, fuck

Turning to face Bucky, you’re alarmed to witness as his face appears conflicted and anxious; he’s afraid, soon the man rises to his feet before opening up the book and begins walking towards Bucky’s cell. A smile on his face as he begins speaking in Russian, “Longing.”

“No.” Mutters your lover as he blinks hard before staring hopelessly up at the ceiling.

“Rusted.”

“Stop.” Protests Bucky as he turns to throw you a pleading look, you frown, not sure what’s happening but you know it can’t be good. Hydra never did anything like this to you, no trigger words, just good old childhood manipulation and the occasional beating if you didn’t comply.

“Seventeen.” Speaks the man as Bucky’s face darkens with anger.

“Stop.” He growls furiously as heavy breaths push at his chest with building adrenaline.

“Daybreak.” A frustrated ragged scream emits from Bucky’s lips as his fists clench and muscles tighten, the man smirks as he gets closer to Bucky’s cage.

“Stop it!” You cry desperately while Bucky yells before ripping the metal from his left hand and breaking the metal clasp on his right, an animalistic growl sounding from deep within his throat as panic sets rooted into your stomach, “Fuck off!” You scream frantically, “I’ll gut you like a goddamn fish!”

Giving a pernicious grin, he ignores you, “Furnace.”

You watch in horror as Bucky emits a roaring cry of desperate anger as he begins pounding furiously against the glass. Coming back to your senses you ignore the mess happening next to you as your muscles contract and strain against the tight metal clasps caging your forearms, shoulders, and legs to the chair.

“Nine.”

You listen to more heavy pounding on glass as a hopeless ragged cry of futile rage rips forth from your throat in an anguished attempt at breaking free. Pulling your arms upward, your flesh strains viciously against the tough metal clasps while you struggle to free yourself. A moment later the metal clasps begin to groan and creak as they loosen accordingly, your strength forcing them into compliance.

“Benign.”

A thin sheet of sweat emits from the side of your face while you yell in frustration at the weight of the locks against your wrists, Bucky pounds furiously, soon metal fist starts cracking though thick glass as you finally rip the metal clasps from off of your right arm, “Fuck off!” You roar threateningly, eyes wild and raging like a bursting dragons flame unto a hopeless stick village, the man simply shifts his gaze back down to the book.

“Homecoming.”

He ignores you; heart beating a mile a minute, you unsheathe your right claws only to free your left hand from the abrasive metal lock as he continues to pound his fist against the slowly breaking glass door. Raising your hands to the back of your lower head, you forcefully rip the thick plastic muzzle from off of your face with a distinctive cracking sound emitting from the strong material.

“Nine.” Speaks the dark eyed blonde as he walks in between the two of your cells, appearing unafraid of your threats from earlier even as he witnesses you breaking free from the steel clasps on your legs now.

“Freight car.”

Crash! 

Instantly your head snaps up to watch as Bucky’s glass door flies violently across the room and onto the harsh ground below; your breath hitches as all goes silent. The mans back is to you as he calmly walks over to Bucky who’s crouched onto the floor like a predator ready to strike, a second later he slowly rises to his feet. Though all life is gone from his dark pools of inky blue, he’s not your Bucky anymore.

“Soldier?” Whispers the dark eyed man in wonder, confident that his plan has effectively worked, whatever the fuck kind of plan in question.

Eyes wide, you swallow thickly as Bucky stares at the door, face noticeably covered in sweat, his eyes stare forward like a beast waiting to kill. He’s nothing but a vessel for chaotic destruction.

Breathing heavily, Bucky speaks in Russian, “Ready to comply.”

Suddenly the frustration in you boils over into pure animalistic rage for what this fucker has done to him, screaming bitterly, you punch the glass, slicing three thin lines straight through the material. The blonde one gives you a wary glance before addressing the Winter Soldier, “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

“Bucky, don’t tell him shit!” You cry frantically in Russian, hoping that the Winter Soldier consuming him might hear something familiar in your desperation; whatever this man wants, you know full well what happened that night which means his motives are anything but friendly. If that wasn’t already apparent.

Bucky blinks, eyes shifting to the new ringmaster in control.

It’s no use, he’s not there, it’s what Hydra had made of him and now he must obey; Bucky ignores as you pound and scream for him to stop, to shut the hell up and come back to you but it’s all in vain. He tells the bastard everything in a matter of seconds as your face falls.

Heart pounding with adrenaline, you slash a clean line that rips right through the bolts of the door in wild fury, it sparks against your Adamantuim claws while creaking in protest as you finally kick it open. The huge door clatters and clashes to the ground as you step out of the glass prison and onto the cement flooring of the large windowless room. Red emergency lights flashing behind you as they make your tense form appear as sort of a clawed beast rising from straight out of hell.

The dark eyed man warily turns to you, when a sudden childlike excitement dances across his features as he takes a cautious step back, a small thrilled smirk pulling at his lips. The mans obsidian pools flicker over to Bucky who keeps a steady death stare with the wall ahead, the man nods in approval for his painstaking work before trailing his eyes over to you, “Soldier. Kill the Hellcat.” Smirks the man as your eyes shift reluctantly from himself to Bucky. 

oh shit, you think miserably as your heart feels like its just sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Swallowing thickly, tears threaten to spill as your body shakes with racing adrenaline, your breaths noticeably heavier as you willingly begin retracting your claws. 

The familiar metal sinks painfully back into your skin as you stare them down distastefully. Frowning deeply, you slowly pull your hands up into fists, readying your stance for the fight that’s inevitably about to come.

Making a sickened face, you swallow nervously as Bucky takes a step forward with eyes set like a wolf to his prey. Reluctantly your feet move an apprehensive step closer, “Fuck.” You mutter under your breath as Bucky makes the first move. 

——

God why does your head hurt so damn much? Is the room spinning?

When you come to, the lights are still blinking an obnoxious red as you lay sprawled out across the cement floor, a puddle of blood trailing in a couple of dark-red thin lines from beneath your head to the yellow hazard stickers placed on the ground.

The air smells of blood and sweat as you suck in a deep breath before moving to sit up, at least the headache is gone, your eyes trail warily across the empty room as you touch the back of your head to get an understanding of what the hell happened here.

You can’t remember a thing.

A warm wetness greets your finger tips to no surprise, pulling them away, you study the murky crimson liquid staining your fingertips before your mind heals completely, your brain matter fusing back accordingly. Bits of the missing puzzle pieces soon form a coherent picture as you sit back in shock from the violent happenings that resulted in you bloody on the ground. 

 The man commanded Bucky to kill you.

The two of you indeed fought, but knowing that if you wanted to win you’d have to kill him yourself; Bucky kept his life as you let the Winter Soldier end yours. After dodging fist after fist thrown at you by Bucky, you finally gave in and let him pin you to the ground before he grabbed your face with his metal hand, smashing your skull against the cement floor in one dangerous deafening blow. Then it was over and...

Where even is he?

Picking yourself up, you quickly wander into the nearest opening only to be greeted by a multitude of unconscious guards, walking further down, you furrow your brows at the heavily dented elevator door where it appears that someone had been forced through. Touching the bent metal you sniff the air, it smells of Bucky and Steve. They couldn’t have been here less then thirty seconds ago.

Shifting to the right, you book it down the hallway to the sounds of strained grunts and fists hitting flesh. Soon you’ve found yourself at the edge of a large excessively windowed room, presumably the food court of sorts in this excessively ginormous place.

In the center is Bucky who’s absolutely beating the shit out of everyone making frugal attempts at stopping him. Your eyes observe Tony who’s positioned a good distance away as he breaths heavily from the floor, eyes wide in shock while he cradles one of his arms. The blonde haired woman from earlier appears in pain as she lays on her back, a broken table underneath her as the Black Widow squeezes Bucky’s neck with her thighs.

Natasha uses her elbows as a battering ram against his skull while he walks with her over to the closest table before slamming her roughly against the metal; he glares fiercely down at the Black Widow before using his titanium fist to choke the life out of her as she struggles against his weight.

Stepping into the huge room, your boots pound against the flooring as you deliver a powerful kick to Bucky’s strong waist, he tumbles across the thin carpeting before jumping to his feet in an instant. Natasha regains her lungs in a choked gasp as you throw a fist at Bucky’s chest, deflecting it, you use this new side lined momentum to duck under his approaching blow as you slide on the flooring, missing a fatal hit to your face by mere inches.

No more face shots please.

He whips around from the near miss, charging you once again; preparing for the worst of the Winter Soldier, your shoulders line up with his approaching body as your eyes calculate his next move. But when he readies his arm to punch, you slide to the side before swiftly twisting your body around to face him once more, all done within less then two seconds.

Watching his head turn left in confusion, you kick his back harshly onto the ground with the power enough to rival that of a lioness before huffing in frustration as he surges to his feet; you immediately halt in your tracks when out of nowhere T’Challa kicks Bucky across the floor. Soon the two men dance like two skilled warriors before Bucky takes the upper hand and whips the prince over the carpeted floor.

Blinking in bewilderment, you watch as he races up the stairs; the Winter Soldier doing his absolute best to get the fuck out of there, knowing he’s outnumbered by two and wary of getting his shit rocked by you again. Though he’s not even fully aware why you’re attacking him since his mind is back at Hydra and last he remembers you where on their side, and presumably bleeding out in another room.

Breathing heavily, you turn to share an awkward moment of uncertain eye contact with the prince of Wakanda before he throws you a half restrained dirty look, sprinting up the stairs after Bucky.

You’re able to take one step before a raspy voice snaps your attention over to a table, it’s Natasha, “Y/N.” She gasps through strained breaths.

Clenching your fists you leave those two to work it out as you swiftly approach the ex-assassin, “What?!” You snap.

Forcing herself into a seated position, she gingerly touches her bruising throat, “Guess you where right.” She chuckles painfully.

“Right about what?” You bark with a frown, eyes flickering over to Bucky and T’Challa as they throw jabs on the stairway landing.

“Last we met. You said I’d be lucky if we never met again. Guess you where right.”

“You’re an ex-assassin how lucky did you really expect to be?” You retort before taking a step for the ascending stairs when a hand takes your wrist.

“You have to stop him.” Urges Natasha, “No one here’s an equal force, you’re the Hellcat Y/N, you have to stop him no matter the cost.”

Throwing her an irritated glare at hearing your Hydra code name yet again, you growl like a wounded beast, “I’m not killing anyone!”

“You might not have a choice.” Challenges the red head with a pleading yet stern display, understanding that Bucky means more to you then just simple companionship.

“There’s always a choice!” You grumble angrily, heart pounding a mile a minute as you huff before turning for the stairs only to meet a disheveled and deeply confused prince, he’s sweating and looks rather conflicted as his dark eyes scan frantically around the room for any sign of Bucky.

Suddenly his eyes land on you, freezing in place, your mind swirls with what to do next; you’re a wanted criminal in plain sight and for some reason this prince wants Bucky and presumably you, dead.

Shifting your panicked gaze over to Nat, you shake your head before turning to T’Challa as you scowl like an angry brute, “If you touch me, I’ll gut you.” And with that heavy threat do you swiftly turn on your heels and race out the closest door and into the nearest hallway. Leaving Natasha and prince T’Challa with their lives.

Now where did Bucky go?

Running past door after door while the emergency lights annoyingly scream their bright red colors in caution of extreme danger, though you and Bucky are technically the “extreme danger”. Soon you take a hard right turn and immediately slam into the firm chest of Steve as he books it down the hallway for some door hanging open at the far end.

Falling into the closest wall, you don’t have time to wait on the pain emitting from your arm as he mutters a quick apology as the six foot two American hauls ass for the exit door. Recovering in no time, you press a bloody handprint against the wall before turning after Steve. Funny, you don’t ever remember cutting yourself on anything. Doesn’t matter.

Bursting open the cracked door, bright blinding rays of sunlight glare annoyingly in your eyes while your pupils adjust to the new terrain, soon your eyes catch the dramatic scene unfolding in front of you farther down on the helicopter landing area.

Perplexed, you stand in astonishment as Bucky attempts to take off in the chopper while Steve fruitfully leaps mid-air before tightly grasping onto the aircraft’s landing skids.

He pulls down hard, face straining in intense efforts to keep Bucky from escaping and heading into God-knows-where. Legs moving quickly, you race up the small flight of stairs leading onto the huge landing pad as Steve struggles fiercely to hold it down.

But before you’re able to aid in putting an end to Bucky’s fruitful efforts, he slams the chopper into the cement; causing you to leap backwards for fear of getting your guts sliced open by the blades. You’re helpless to watch as Steve narrowly misses becoming a decapitated corpse as the blades crash violently against the ground.

Chunks of stone and steel go flying in all directions as you shield your face from the debris. But as the dust settles, you peer from over your forearm to watch as Bucky’s metal arm bursts through the glass only to immediately grasp around Steve’s neck.

“Fuck.” Slips silently from out of your lips as you take a couple cautious steps forward while moving reluctantly towards the shit show; how has the last 20 hours gone so goddamn terribly?

Creeeek. Sounds the destroyed helicopter as it suddenly begins a slow ascend over the platform edge, where a large river awaits with open arms to presumably swallow whole the broken aircraft. Now in a panicked sprint, you race over the rubble as the last of the chopper, Bucky, and Steve are seen before they plummet to the waters below.

“No!” You cry helplessly as you reach the peak of the landing, nothing beneath you except for the broken tail of the chopper and a plethora of air bubbles.

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes​ @iamasimpingh0e

[lifenodaijobu]

Just a little list of my soft Draco obsession

For  @vemodalensx

Theres a few here but I’ve left some out since the list was getting a bit long. I might make another list with more.

The list separated between cute Draco and vulnerable Draco just so you can choose whether or not you want a bit of sadness with your softness ^3^

Oh and ofc it goes without saying that the whole list is Bottom Draco hehe

Cute Soft Draco

Flower Crowns (2.4k words)

It started with a single flower 🥀 Draco makes flower crowns for Harry and that is how the whole school finds out about them. A happy dose of Harry with flowers in his hair, and a smitten Draco.

Dreaming of you (21k words)

Harry has nightmares, he wishes for a night when he can sleep without nightmares. What happens when he starts dreaming of Draco Malfoy? Draco left the wizarding world after the war, he's a librarian and lives peacefully in muggle London, what happens when Harry fucking Potter shows up at his work place?

Honey (

Harry is sick of Draco's oh-so-adorable endearments.

The Care and Management of Volatile Veelas 

Harry adopts a Veela. He really didn’t mean to.

Quidditch Wife (Part 2)

Theres no real summary for this except for  It's got all my favourite guilty pleasures, like protective!Harry and vulnerable!Draco, with a side of jealous!Harry and SportyQuidditch!Harry (and I think the top!Harry rather goes without saying).

All our pieces....fall right into places series

The first story:  Draco had had a crush for a while and now that he had Harry in his bed...He was everything that Draco needed.

Trick or Treat

Harry had no idea that he was such a fetishist - a fact which he discovers on Halloween.

Pretty

Harry finds a pair of stockings in the back of their dresser.

The Sweater

After being forced to room together in 8th year, Draco and Harry become friends and decide to continue their living arrangements post Hogwarts. The only problem is, Draco can't seem to stop stealing Harry's clothes.

1095 Roses for a life time

Being woken up by the lips of your boyfriend is always a nice surprise, especially on the morning of yours third anniversary of dating, which leads to hot and passionate morning activity. But all this is just to indulge in themselves, Harry's surprise includes roses and a promise for a lifetime. Will they be the right choice?

Get your kinks out

Harry plays seeker for the Magpies, and he discovers that one of his teammates secretly wears lace panties. What begins as a sexual relationship becomes increasingly complicated by Harry’s fame, Draco’s family, and Harry’s ambivalent feelings about dominating Draco.

Can’t say no

Draco really has the worst friends. When they put a spell on him that he has to say no to everything Harry says.....things don't turn out well.

OR

That time when Harry proposes and gets turned down because of his horrible friends.

What Draco wants

Out of anything a petty fight with Harry Potter could have led to, Draco Malfoy least expected it to end with him bent over a table, questioning his relationship and feelings for Potter, and having the best sex of his life.

Criminal

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit? 

Things Change

Harry and Draco's friends notice something different about them when they fight. See what they find out when they walk down an empty hallway. 

Whats a little veritasium between two sworn enemies?

Draco Malfoy has a nasty habit of always coming across such bad luck no matter where circumstance presents itself and unfortunately that doesn't seem to change when his bloody nemesis Harry Potter over hears him talking about Veritaserum potions in the hallways past curfew. ( It was Pansy fault really)

Harry wants to know what the Slytherin boy is up to, especially with how nervous Malfoy is, but is that ALL Harry wants to know?

Mr Right Now - side note: Cedric/Draco

What do you do when you're feeling down about your ex? Make him jealous! Story features Cedric Diggory and Draco Malfoy trying to win back their loves, but somehow end up falling into each other's arms

For the love a kitten 

With Voldemort Dead, life is not easy for Harry as Old friends become enemies and old enemies become friend. With the return of three Slytherins, Harry life is turned upside down.

How to prepare for a wedding night

I have a neighbour. He is stuck in a loveless relationship and an arranged marriage. He has zero experience in bed. He needs my help so that his love life won't suck for the next few decades. He needs a sex teacher. Oh... and the neighbour happens to be Draco freaking Malfoy. And I might be a little tiny bit in love with the git...

Draco's Scent

In which Harry can't be around Draco for long without the boy's stupid smell messing with his mind, and he really, really hates that.

Turn The Heat Up

Wonky Cooling Charms result in interesting revelations

Flirt

Draco and Hermione make a devastating duo at the Ministry as the respective Department Heads of Wizarding Culture Preservation and Muggle Relations. When Harry Potter gets involved in their latest joint project, Draco can’t seem to stop himself from constantly flirting with him even when it doesn’t seem to affect the golden boy at all. He’s wrong. Harry is most definitely affected. Includes Slytherin shenanigans, Draco sucking at quidditch, and Harry trying not to be charmed. Draco POV.

Angsty/Vulnerable Soft Draco

The Draco Malfoy incident - side note: I cried big time

Draco Malfoy is best friends with a Hufflepuff. A HUFFLEPUFF! He's also partnered with a redhead git, trying to hide from an obsessive green-eyed saviour and has become overly fond with sunrises. It's exhausting. Can't a man plan an assassination in peace around here?

I’m not in your dreams

Draco has dreamt with Harry's voice since he was fourteen, so there's no doubt for him about who his soulmate is. Now, in their Eighth Year, Harry has finally dreamt with his soulmate's voice too. The problem is that Draco was born mute.

Yours for the taking

Draco was raised to be the perfect Omega, but there are things even he cannot endure. When he discovers just what Tom Riddle's plans for him are once he's claimed him he is confronted with an impossible decision. Only one thing remains clear: he will never be able to go back home.

Luckily, Harry Potter is there to save the day

Rough on you - side note: Dark Harry. This is more vulnerable Draco than soft Draco so please read the tags before you start the story :) I was unsure whether I wanted to add this here but hey-ho

"I'm the only one that can give you want you really want." Harry spun Draco around and held his arms at his side and he pressed against his back, whispering against his throat. "That can force you, that can humiliate you… that can hurt you, and you want it. You want me."

Harry is having a bad day. Draco just cannot learn to keep his mouth shut. Neither of them would have predicted it would lead to this.

But who guards the dragon?

This is an expansion of my one-shot, It'll be Okay. You don't have to read it first, it will be in the story. Requested. DMHP Sub/Dom relationship. Slash. Don't like, don't read. Harry thinks a few thinks through, then comes into his creature inheritance. He finds out that he is the dominant mate to one Draco Malfoy. But things are never easy for the boy who lived

Taken For Granted

Having pined for Harry for long enough, Draco decided that it was time to give up and move on. What happens when Harry realizes too late what he's lost?

Mourning

Harry returns to school to complete his NEWTs. There he finds a much changed Draco Malfoy and surprisingly subdued Professor Snape.

In your arms, rests my world

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Inside your mind

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

"I'll Protect You," and you can seal that with an Unbreakable Vow

His friends may tease but Harry doesn't feel bad for keeping a close eye on the Slytherin boy of one Draco Malfoy, after all someone has to do it. So when Harry secretly follows the pure-blood boy out past the courtyard, there's nothing strange or unusual about it; nor is it wrong.

Unfortunately the same can not be said for the scenario Harry accidentally stumbles upon as he can't help but stare in horror. It's not just wrong. It's absolutely despicable and Harry, well, Harry just has to do something about it.

A Big Black Sky

Draco shifts his head as he turns to look at Scorpius, his cheek touching the pillow. "Did you know that…" He pauses, his throat convulsing, and it sounds audible in the silence, besides Michael's steady, even breathing from the other bedroom.

Scorpius is staring back at him, in wait of something new to learn, a beautiful and intelligent child. He has Draco's mind. He has Draco's eyes and nose and mouth and hair. He is his. All his. All he has of Michael are his wild curls and the green of his eyes, and sometimes he looks into them and imagines that they aren't Michael's, but someone else's.

Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky."

Song To Say Goodbye

Draco should have remembered that life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. Somewhere along the way he forgot to always be careful and was left with nothing. It was hard enough getting himself together the first time, can he do it again?

Small spoiler for Song to Say Goodbye below

Its not Drarry Endgame: he ends up with a OMC cuz Harrys a big dickhead

[lovee-infected]

hello! may i please request NSFW headcanons of Lilia, Rook, Chenya (if you write for him), and Floyd dating a f!mc who is a brat in bed? thank you! (ps, i love your work so much, you deserve more attention and love!!!💖💖💖💖💖)

Feeling spicy tonight, aren't we?~

Warning(s): Nsfw, Bdsm, Orgasm denial, Dirty talk, Cum play

Spice will remain undercut!

He loves to have you explore his body. You little koebi sure are pretty curious, aren't you? He's a brat all the time nonetheless of how you're going to play, but watching your enthusiasm to challenge him and his big dick energy in bed makes him wants to take a step back and watch how far you may go.

He can pin you down within a second but if you wanna top, go on. It's your chance to show him how entertaining you can be, though it won't last all night. He'd just lend your body for you to play until you no longer can. But in case that you'd prefer to have him top you instead he won't be as kind.

Floyd has literally got no mercy when he tops, and having you continuing to tease him although you're well aware of what his immense thirst can do to you can only have one meaning: You want more. You look so cute when you get nasty in bed, so adorable. He loves in so much when you, his naughty baby, squirm under his rough touch like a tiny fish begging for water.

You won't need to tell him to go any harder or faster, he already knows how to turn the bed into a jungle. All he needs is you going along with his rough pace and driving him even crazier than usual.

Be careful not to go too far though, he's got his own limits. You're free to do whatever you want as long as he hasn't reached his orgasm but note that if you keep on teasing him afterwards even Floyd can be bothered. Better slow down with a slower pace or softer actions like kisses on tip of his cock or softly licking him so he can enjoy his orgasm.

Instead of getting to the point of causing him too much pain or making him ask you to stop, try teasing him. If he ejaculates in your mouth, instead of immediately swallowing it, keep it in your mouth and play with it. He'd surely be turned on even more if you go kinkier, you can open your mouth and use your fingers to play with his warm, sticky load. Making satisfying sounds or just gently humming "Mmmmm" as if you're so hungry for him to feed you his seed is another way of making it more erotic for both of you.

Go as kinky as you want to, but don't be fascinated if he decides to punish you when you're done. He'll force you to wear your underwear without cleaning after sex so you'll have to keep his seed on all the time. No need to mention that he'd probably leave a mess of markings and bites on you especially on places that are hard to hide, even your cheek.

You may be a brat in bed but remember that Floyd would continue to be a brat even after you're done, so when you're playing around in bed, better be prepared for the consequences coming after wards.

You know what they say: “Treat her like a Queen, fuck her like a whore.” Doesn't matter how much of a gentleman Rook is in the daylight, when the night comes, he's just the animal and you're the pray, watch him eat you.

Not that Rook is always one to go that wild during sex since he's still pretty considering toward his darling's emotions and limitations; he doesn't want to be the one enjoying your lovely time after all. He is more into love making than just having sex for fun, but he'd prefer it with more, well, excitement.

Why of course he doesn't mind you being a brat at all since it's nothing different from receiving your permission to go wild. Wanna play? Let's play.

You may end up being the one topping him at first because he is probably... intrigued. He likes to see whether your actions are as tough as your words when you ride him or not. Remember: He's got the stamina. He'll patiently wait until you can't take it anymore then pin you back and have his own turn. See how the tables are turned-? He can go for long, tiring rounds all night leaving you both in a mess of sweat and each other's juices as you'd still have to take in his huge cock.

When he tops, there's no stop until he makes you scream. He'd love to see how you'd go from a insubordinate brat to a helpless bottom hoe begging for mercy. So pittyful and needy, isn't that just beautiful?

Though he's quite the opposite as a bottom. He can see your growing excitement and nasty thoughts through your eyes so he doesn't mind giving you the chance to take advantage of him. He'll give his body to you with pleasure so you can play with him as you wish.

Other than getting to have his perfectly masculine body and sexy abs, remember etter that that soft, thicc and squishy butt of this man is an absolute treasure on its own so you better not lose the chance of getting to eat mister Hunt. You can get him to lie on his chest while still on knees so he is pushing his ass into the air, giving you the best advantage to have your meal.

You can do whatever you'd like to then, show how much you can do with that mouth of yours. Even give him a rim job in case you're into it. Use lots of saliva to make more enjoyable as you kiss or lick, he'd absolutely love it. Best part would be... biting. That squishy flesh of ass of his is softer than you'd ever imagine so better take the chance to eat him. In contrast to many men Rook doesn't mind you leaving some of those savage markings on his ass and you'd even get to hear him letting out some deep, sensual moans to the pillow when you're having his butt. It'd surely drown him in pleasure.

Got a kink you wanna try? Go on and throw it at him. He doesn't mind trying new things on you but often decides to let you be the one choosing them. Mostly because of the high possibility of his choices being too much for you, he doesn't want it to be that merciless. Be careful not to give him too much power though, try not to bring in any dangerous kinks otherwise it cannot be guaranteed if Rook can hold himself back or not.

Beware, Rook is a gentleman who knows when not to be gentle...

Oh lord, is he being underestimated? No matter how much of a brat you are, when Vanrouge's in the mood it's far beyond your limits to have a chance against a this pink gremlin in bed.

Better be into bdsm: Chains? Whips? Collars? Gags? Ropes? Butt plugs? Bring it on baby!

He actually does already keep quite a few of bdsm toys and matetials in his room, somewhere no one else can find but him of course. He allows you to choose your favorite color what he's going to use on you and when it's the time, he allows you to choose them for him.

Tie him up and make him your bottom slave, he doesn't mind at all~ People are quite predictable and uninteresting these days so, he likes to see how you may surprise him. Go nasty, go feral, go wild. Make him seriously cum after all these years with his uncool sleeping mates.

He may not seem to but he's quite hard to satisfy, especially as a bottom. Doesn't matter how much he's enjoying himself between your legs, it isn't going to hold him back from trying to piss you off.

"My my, Is that all you've got...? And I thought you were going to bring me some fun..."

He has a thing for humiliating you and watch how far you can go to prove him wrong. Top brat x bottom rat= Ultimate freaky cycle.

Regardless of how much of a bottom he can be, better be prepared for the times he tops. Both of you are freaks in bed but there's a difference: He's got the power. He'll definitely make you cry even if he has to use another of those orgasm spells on you.

As a top he'd want total dominance over his darling but he sure does want it to be hard to achieve. He wants to have to push you back in bed. Tease him so he can tease you even more, that's how it works.

Is into into inflicting pain through both physical side( Biting, chewing, nailing) and the erotic side. Leaving Markings behind and bloodplay may be his simplest kinks but he's also got a thing for playing with your body and mind.

Misbehave and you'd be punished; he can easily dig his long fingers inside you and have his long nail mercilessly crumb your walls before pulling out right as you're about to cum, leaving you in a painful mess inside your stomach wanting to cum so badly.

He's such a freak ass for edging, he'd get you to the brink of orgasm then backs off. He'd repeat this over and over as long as he likes to play before giving you an explosive orgasm. To bring you even more pain, he'd come up with one of his secret orgasmic spells to make you even needier that'll make you cry in pain. Ah yes, he is being a bitch and he doesn't mind at all. You would often end up screaming as you beg Lilia to let you cum, as if he's going to give in this easily. He's going to make sure that you'd learn your lesson.

"N-gah sugar. You gotta be punished for your veeeerrry poor manners tonight. My pet must learn to behave,"

Were you looking for that one pink neko who also happens to be a bottom bitch? Here he is! So get on top of him and kitty-play with him all night because it's all both you and him are asking for.

He isn't even going to fight back, things are much easier and better when someone else is in charge of the game, he can just lay back and enjoy the show. You have no idea how much fun you bring him everytime you pin him to the bed and tell him what a fuckable furry he is.

Chenya as well has got a little bratty side in him which can also be seen in bed; but it usually won't go any further than either make specific parts of his body invisible right at the moment you aren't expecting him to (Especially when you're giving him a hand job / blow job and suddenly his cock fades away-) or giving you nicknames. He isn't really into cursing or calling his partner names in bed but sure does have a thing for them having nicknames; especially those that radiate top energy. He'd actually come up with lots of fancy nicknames for you: Poison cookie, Marsh Mallow, Juicy lips, Majesty, Mama, Sexy witch,...

He's lowkey into bdsm as well so go get him some pink collars and gags, maybe some ropes tie him to bed as well- Note that he really enjoys getting o your nerves and having you punish him after wards. The harder, the better.

Chenya is more than ready to be your pet in bed so don't be surprised when he calls you mama; he's your pink naughty bitch so go on and would love it if you punish him for being such a nasty kitten.

He literally wants you to treat him like your bitch so the brattier you get, the more he'll love it. One of his favorites would be when yo give him one of those wild rides as you savagely pull the chain connecting to the tight collar you've put around his neck, lowkey choking him everytime you pull it up.

He loves watching you play with his cock, even thinking about that seductive sight between his legs as you take his length in makes him want to cum.

As he leaves most of the play-thing and decisions to his darling you won't get to see him doing much more than breathlessly smirking through his moans and dirty talking, telling you to either discipline him like a slut or keep him tied up forever and use him as your personal sex toy.

In case that you want to use him even more, know that he's an absolutely cute one to be pegged, his ass is more than ready for you to make him cry.

Feel free to sit oon his face cause he'd gladly command your order. While being a bottom hoe, he still knows how to put that mouth of his into use to satisfy his owner. his long togue would sharpy dance through your clit making you all wet in your magical juice like heck, he's really got something speak in that filthy tongue that'll make you want to force him to eat you out over and over.

He'd be recklessly laughing through his moans as if he's mistaken having sex with a free visit to the circus. He sometimes rambles nonsense as well; asking you unrelated questions using fancy nicknames he has given you. He mainly means to get on your nerves through it so you'd go even wilder.

See he loves having you punish him, bad kitties need a lesson.