#sorry 2 my very little followers my interests bounce around so quick i only have like two i’m constantly into and its nirvana and ed movies

[allagashed]

whenever i say “screaming crying throwing up” this is what i mean

[oneshot-wxnderland]

Lab Partners With Benefits Pt. 3 | Percy Jackson

Summary: Another week, another lab and Y/n and Percy are feeling a different kind of tension this time.

Category: fluff 

Part 1 | Part 2

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          Percy had been kicking himself all week. He had forgotten to ask you for your number before you left his place and now you probably thought he was just some asshole looking for a one-time hookup. And he didn’t want that. And he hoped you didn’t want that either. But he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. 

         It’d been a hot minute since Percy was in any kind of relationship and he wasn’t sure if he was even the relationship kind. Even if he did want to be, his life just didn’t lend itself to dating mortals. There was always some monster popping up that he’d have to fight, or quest he’d have to go on, or emergency at camp he’d have to run off to, and Percy was a shit liar. It’s what messed up the last time he’d tried to date somebody. He was constantly blowing off dates and rain-checking everything because the gods are needy attention seekers. 

          He’d seen superhero movies before and related a lot to when they had similar issues. Percy’s not saying he’s Spiderman or anything, but he does live in New York and save it from constant peril – so yeah, he’s Spiderman. 

          This time, however, he was really considering trying again. Trying with you. And Percy had a plan. 

          Sliding into his seat when there were only a few other people in the room yet, Percy felt pumped up. He woke up early, showered, had a FaceTime with the boys to discuss the game plan, and got to class ahead of you so that he was ready to give you his number the first chance he got before he lost his nerve. That was part of Jason’s advice: offer his number to you instead of asking for yours. He claimed it would make Percy come off more vulnerable and less pushy. Leo mostly just spouted different cheesy lines that Percy would never use. Frank didn’t say much but Hazel piped in every now and then when she took the phone from him. 

          “So, you’re lab partners,” Hazel started. “Do you talk outside of your lab?”

          “No, that’s why I need her number.”

          “But you said you did homework together at your place right? So how’d that go? Did she seem interested?”

          Percy paused. 

          “Yeah, it went... fine.”

          Hazel was blissfully unaware of the blush that was creeping up his neck but Jason didn’t miss it. Or the way he suddenly needed to roll up his sleeves and fiddle with them. 

          “Did you just do the homework?” Jason asked suspiciously. 

          “We uh... kissed...” 

          “Niiiiiicee, Percy!” Leo hollered. “That’s my boy!”

          Frank retook the phone from Hazel and hastily gave an excuse to go before leaving the call and cutting off Hazel’s confused protests.

          “I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jason shook his head. “This is way beyond my level now. Piper and Annabeth are nearby I’ll go get them-.”

          “No!” Percy cut him off. That’s the last thing he wanted. The girl’s won’t know or care what to do so they’d ask Piper’s siblings and then the entirety of camp would know. “It doesn’t really change anything. I’m going to give her my number and then the ball’s in her court and I don’t have to worry about it.”

          “But your balls were in her court, weren’t they Percy.” 

          “Leo I am going to kill you when I get back to camp and that is a threat.”

          Leo left the call.

          “I’m sure it’ll be fine, just don’t do your game-time face because it’ll scare her off,” Jason tried to get the conversation back on track.

          “What face? I don’t have a scary face?” Percy added another item to the list of things to not do when he saw her.

          “Yes you do. It’s when you’re charging into battle but this isn’t battle is it Percy?” 

          “You’re lucky,” Percy lamented while he grabbed his backpack. “You just woke up and were already with Piper. All the hard work done for you.” 

          “You got this man, just be yourself.” 

          Percy decided to throw that particular bit of garbage advice away. 

          Now he was sitting in his seat, got there early, and he was even wearing his nice t-shirt, so what could go wrong.

          As soon as you walked in the door all of his carefully curated bravado deflated inside of him. You walked towards your shared table and he had to expel childish nerves he hadn’t felt in years. He’s in college now, for Hades’ sake. He was a man.

          “Hey,” you greeted as you sat down.

          “Hi.” That was stupid. Men don’t say ‘hi’. He should’ve said ‘hey’ back.

          “You’re here early,” you commented and Percy just nodded like an idiot. 

          The plan was to giver you his number as soon as he saw you, but he couldn’t just blurt that out of nowhere. 

          “How’ve you been?” 

          There. Establishing a conversation and definitely not stalling.

          “I’ve been good.” The small amused smile on your face calmed him down a little. He’s got this.

          Class started before he could slip his number in casually but Percy wasn’t deterred. He wasn’t going to let geology get in his way.

                    While you were reading the data you had to chart on the graph, you noticed Percy’s usual fidgeting get even worse. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you saw him concentrating intensely on the paper and trying to contain his frustration. You recognized the signs since one of your friends has dyslexia, but you knew he wouldn’t ask for help.

          “So we have to plot the points on the graph and then draw the elevation lines, right?” You asked casually, looking over to him for confirmation. He nodded his head, but still continued to squint at the numbers which all were very small print and close to each other.

         Muttering the numbers as if to yourself but loud enough for him to hear, you got to work. 

          Percy sat back and smiled a little, knowing what you were doing. He looked over at you, from your furrowed brow to your crossed legs bouncing with your tapping foot. With a contented sigh, he recalled what it felt like to be in between those legs. Having them wrapped around his hips while you moaned his name. 

          His eyes trailed up your body, memories that were attached to each part flooding through him like a highlight reel of his deepest fantasies. Then he got to your bare arms and the goosebumps on the skin shook him out of it.

          “Cold?” he asked, interrupting you trying to help him which he really should have been listening to. 

          “Yeah, a little.” 

          “Here.” Percy shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you before pausing (and slightly panicking.)

          Hold up, is this weird? Am I being weird right now? Should giving her my hoodie come before or after we exchange numbers? I guess doing it before could be a good test of whether she would be interested in exchanging numbers. But this is couple stuff. Her wearing my hoodie. That usually comes after numbers. But she’s cold now and I can’t seem like an asshole withholding warmth unless she accepts or declines my number. 

           Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice his panic as you took the hoodie from him without hesitation and put it on. “Thanks.”

          He calmed down as he watched you roll up the sleeves so that your hands were free to work and he felt a different kind of warmth spread through him. He liked the way you looked in his hoodie. 

          You caught him watching you and it threw you off. This wasn’t the heated gaze that had made you melt before, this was... softer. But the moment was ruined when you glanced down and saw that he hadn’t drawn a single point yet.

          “Hey,” you tapped your pencil on his paper. “Focus.”

          “Sorry.”

          You worked well together for a while. The rhythm of plotting points distracted Percy from his nerves. That is until he felt your hand on his forearm.

          “What’s this?” You asked, finger tracing the SPQR of his tattoo and making him shiver.

          “Oh, it’s a band.” 

          “What band?”

          “The Super Popular... Cool Rockers.”

          “They spell Cool with a Q?”

          “That’s what makes it cool.”

          “Ah.”

          Percy went back to the worksheet, congratulating himself on his quick thinking when he saw you pull out your phone. 

          “What are you doing?” he asked, totally nonchalant. 

          “Looking up the Super Popular Qool Rockers.”

          Percy snatched your phone. 

          “Oh, you won’t find them.” He dodged your attempts to grab it. “They’re really underground.”

          “You’ll be really underground if you don’t give me my phone back.” Percy hastily returned your phone, as if the threat scared him. You tried to glare at him, but found it too hard to suppress your smile once his broke out. “Thank you. Now will you tell me what it really means?”

          “Maybe one day.” People started packing their things and leaving since class had flown by faster than Percy liked. Sensing his window of opportunity closing he decided to Hades with it. “Depends if you go on a date with me.”

          You took your time standing up and gathering your things while pretending to mull it over in your head. Which Percy really did not appreciate. 

          “Maybe one day,” you answered him with a coquettish smile and took a few steps towards the door. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

          Percy was too concentrated on restraining a fist pump to puzzle out your meaning. 

          “We didn’t get much work done today, so we better finish what we started at your place.” You winked at him and strided out the door.

          With a mischievous grin, Percy was quick to follow. 

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.2

A/N: Really wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction to pt.1 so thank you all so much for your likes, reblogs, kind words and support! I had a few requests to make a taglist so I’ve done it at the bottom - let me know if you’d like to be added! (and I hope I haven’t forgotten anyone) so - on with the show!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing

pt.1 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

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You startle when your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the sudden and abrupt noise of it quick to drag your attention away from the true crime documentary playing across your TV screen. You eye it from your spot on the couch, so far, yet only a mere reach away if you could be bothered to stretch the distance. Your eyes fall back to the TV, happy to just ignore it and address it when you eventually have to move from the cocoon of blankets and pillows you’ve surrounded yourself with, but when the reminder alert sounds two minutes after receiving it, a small voice in the back of your head pipes up, saying it could be something important and you sigh tiredly.

The effort to move pulls a low groan from you and you stretch out, snatching the device from the table and back into the warmth before you could tumble onto the floor and really have something to grumble about.

Hey Benny’s mystery girl, how’s your night going?

The text sends flutters through your stomach, your hands immediately clamming up with a brief wave of nerves. This was the guy that Benny was setting you up with – an apparent very close friend and someone who clearly meant a lot to him. Why did you feel so much pressure to make a good impression?

Blankets, cushions and crime show now forgotten, you straighten up and let your fingers hover over the keypad in contemplation.

Do you play it cool? Act like you have a brimming social life, full of fun and endless options, and are not currently sat at home on a Friday night in your pyjamas watching Netflix, eating an excessive amount of snacks? No. No, you shouldn’t put a false image out there. Honesty is the best policy.

Hey yourself mystery fish. It’s a nice and relaxed night on my end, how about yours?

You leave it at that, briefly wondering if you should quickly chuck your phone on airplane mode, delete the message before it could go through and start again.

Did it sound boring? Is that the kind of image you were throwing out there? Maybe you should’ve acted like you were at least doing something productive. But then… what if Benny was there to call you out on your bullshit, knowing you literally have nothing better to do? He’d gladly do it, too.

You roll your eyes at yourself, wondering why you even cared what this mystery man thought about you and your weekend rituals when you had literally never even met. You were who you were, and that was that. If he didn’t like it, then he could take his handsome face and pretty brown eyes elsewhere.

I’m jealous. Stuck out with the guys and all I can think about is sleeping.

Scratch that. Maybe he was a man after your own heart, after all. A picture of a tray of tequila shots and lemons wedges comes through, another text quickly following which had you giggling quietly to yourself –

I’m too old for this shit.

You grin at your screen, opening your camera and snapping a quick picture of your blanket covered legs, snack covered coffee table and bright TV screen before sending it with a little smirking emoji. You’re not disappointed when he replies almost immediately.

Now I’m really jealous – are those Doritos?

Nacho cheese!

The one and only acceptable flavour. Is that Forensic Files? I binged the shit out of that the other day!

OMG it’s so good!

-

Surprisingly, your eyes didn’t feel as heavy as you thought they would when your alarm drags you from sleep the next morning. You could even say you were looking forward to waking up, which was not how your Saturday mornings usually played out.

Immediately you reach over for your phone and unlock it, smiling like an idiot at the Home safe :) text waiting for you. You chew your lip as you scroll through the many bubbles of conversation, stomach twisting in delight as you re-read through the topics you managed to bounce through in the few hours of texting before you had to call it quits at 2:14am and send a final – Goodnight Frankie x

You had paced your apartment after that, ringing your hands together anxiously and eyeing the clock as the seconds ticked past, scowling at your reflection in the mirror as you took your worries out on your teeth, scrubbing them much harder than necessary. Was a kiss too much? Is it too early for that kind of thing? You had only literally just started talking. Should you quickly text and say it was an accident? It’s not like you can say you sent it to the wrong person – the message had his fucking name in it.

The sound you made when you got a – Sweet dreams mystery girl x – in return wasn’t even remotely human and the words swirled around your head long after you fell asleep.

The reservations you had originally developed on being set up, yet again, quickly dissipated the longer you and Frankie exchanged messages. There had been no awkward block of nothing between texts, no dragging up mediocre subjects to keep the conversation rolling… it had just flowed so effortlessly, so naturally – something which had never happened before with Benny’s previous candidates. The only other candidate that you had managed to have a comfortable conversation with was Will, and that was only after you had both agreed that there was no attraction between the two of you.

Over text, Frankie seemed funny – quick witted and sarcastic – and often had you snorting into your drink over a comment or joke made at his own or his friends’ expenses. No, you weren’t even remotely hesitant about this anymore. If anything, your evening of conversation just made you that much more eager to meet him.

It’s much later in the day when you finally message him, having kept the temptation to message him at bay while you tidied up, keeping it short and sweet with a, How’s the head? You chew your lip, eyes flicking over the message with thoughtful eyes before quickly tagging a little kiss on the end and pressing send. Not even two minutes later, your phone goes off on the coffee table and the clammy hands return tenfold when you read over the message a good fifteen times.

Can I call?

Shit. Shit. He wants to call? And like… talk? With voices? What if you stutter? Choke? Oh god, your throat’s dry. It’s dry – how can you talk with a dry throat? You can’t. Fuck. Fuck. Drink – you need a drink –

You quickly run to the kitchen, filling a glass of water and swallowing it down as quickly as you could, not at all caring that it half spills down your chin and onto your jumper. You gasp for air when you finish, slamming the glass down and catching the drips of water from your chin with the back of your hand. You slide across your floor as you run back out to your couch and grab your phone, typing a quick reply.

Yeah sure.

Too casual. Was that too casual? Should you have added a kiss? Shit – it’s already sent. It’s fine. It’s fine. He asked a short question, and he got a short answer. It makes sense. It’s fine. You yelp when your phone starts to vibrate in your hand, his contact name flashing across the screen.

Oh God.

Oh God.

He’s calling. He’s somewhere out there, phone to his ear, waiting for you to answer and you’re what – standing in your lounge and looking at your phone, watching it ring, like an idiot? What are you doing?

You inhale deeply, clearing your throat a little before swiping the green icon.

“Hi,”

Oh God, what was that? What was that tone?

“Hey. Sorry – looking at my phone screen and trying to reply was making my eyes feel like they’re exploding.”

His voice is deep, hoarse from his night of drinking, and overwhelmingly pleasant to listen to. It brings a flush of warmth across your cheeks, an electric tingle across your skin.

You laugh softly, “It’s alright. Tequila wasn’t a good idea, then?”

He grunts quietly and your stomach tightens, throat suddenly dry again at the suggestive sound.

“It never is.” He groans, melting into a long yawn and you start to feel a little guilty. Did your text wake him up?

“I’m sorry, I should let you sleep –”

“No! No, it’s fine. I uh – I really want to talk to you… if you’re not busy.” He adds onto the end, almost nervously. 

“I’m not busy,” you reassure quietly, smiling shyly down at your lap. “I’m all yours.”

He chuckles lowly, and the sound settles deep in your belly, “Good.”

You don’t understand how conversation could just be so... easy with someone you’ve never met. For a brief moment, you worry you might be talking too much, maybe boring him, but when he keeps asking questions, encourages you to continue, you think that maybe he doesn’t mind, maybe he actually is just interested in what you’re saying.

When dinner comes around, you’re in a fit of giggles as you prepare your food, listening to pots and pans bang and clash on the other end as Frankie prepares his own meal. You cook together, eat together, and then settle in front of Netflix together, debating back and forth on what to watch. The evening melts into night, one movie turns into two, and eventually conversation dies down.

Sometime in the night, you roll over, briefly waking to fix and fluff the pillow under your head when a sound makes you pause. Your head jerks up and you look around, finding yourself sprawled across the couch, and a blanket twisted around your legs.

Glancing over to your phone to check the time, you touch the screen and blink in surprise when you see your phone call is still connected with Frankie, who’s quiet on the other end. You move to press the red button but freeze when a soft snore sounds from the device, and a warm flood of affection grows in your heart and spreads throughout your chest.

He’s asleep.

You listen a moment longer, smiling tenderly when more quiet snores reach your ears. Instead of hanging up, you bring the phone closer, tucking it just beside your pillow before laying your head back down and closing your eyes, letting the quiet breathing soothe you back to sleep.

If the strong butterflies turning your stomach were anything to go by, you were in serious trouble.

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh​ @peterhollandkait​ @sara-alonso​ @starlightsearches​ @bookishofalder​ @empress-palpat1ne​ @shadowolf993​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @canyonmirrors​ @eoz-stuff​ @blackonemasie​ @layniapetrovnaaa​

[orphicrose]

The Only One

Rick x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : life is strange in the rick and morty universe, as we all know. But things get just that little bit weirder when Rick meets you. Something seems oddly familiar with you, but for once In his life he has no idea why. So he searches from reality to reality to try and see if he had met another version of you, only to realise there where none. You where the only one. That’s when it finally hit him…

This is inspired by a song from Rick and morty that I think is beautiful https://youtu.be/epiOcz3HXNo

I accidentally got carried away and wrote too much, so I will probably just do a part 2 so it’s not to much to read if anyone is interested <3

_________________꧁♥︎꧂_________________

Humans are such fragile creatures, always have been and always will be. You knew that, but you refused to surrender down to it. Not wanting to be included In whatever earth had to offer, so you ran away. And not like how a silly fourteen years old runs away from home, Hah… no.

You left the fucking planet, not leaving behind a single trail or speck of dust for someone to follow you with. Your intelligence and ambition was all you needed to carry yourself through life. Travelling the infinite void of space, soon making a name for yourself. For good and for bad. An ordinary person couldnt even dream nor comprehend the things you’ve experienced or seen. And that’s just how you liked it. Being different. It was truly a gift to be intelligent.

And then there was rick, high IQ and normally not happy about it. Seeing his intelligence as a curse. Rick hadn’t seen it all, it was impossible, but he thought he had seen enough to make a valid opinion on life.

It’s pointless.

Such a bitter man with a bitter view on everything, including himself. You see, when you have an overwhelming amount of knowledge weighing down on your mind, you can go two ways. The first being ricks way, not caring about anything since he has seen how big the universe is and doesn’t see a point.

Then there’s your way, feeling blessed to be able to see things that no one else can, and finding a new reason to live every single day.

You two where polar opposites, but also the same. You where both alone in a universe you felt didn’t need you anymore.

The day both of your worlds collided should have been written down in the history books. It was the day both of your beliefs where almost questioned. Wondering whether fate really does exist.

————————————————

Out of the many things you have done, you’ve never visited the same place twice. Making everyday an adventure, as much of a cliche as that sounds it’s true. Not only that, but you seem to have people after you almost everywhere. For your intelligence, or for revenge. But there is one particular spot you cannot get enough of. Finding yourself there when you lose yourself.

It’s an isolated planet in the middle of the andromeda galaxy. It’s a newly ‘emerging moon’ as you like to call it. In fact, you pretty much founded this planet, since its a recent creation. This also means there is no intelligent life yet evolved, so it is safe for you to do what you please.

You go there often, to watch the two suns set over its small horizon and the thousands of stars come into view. Giving you time to reflect on your life. To appreciate it, but not to regret anything. The stars are far to beautiful to bring your mind to anything negative. The planet itself seems to project the meaning of peace and tranquillity even without life. Maybe that’s why it’s so comforting.

Your thoughts where leaving your mind, as you held your eyes closed. Feeling the breeze brush through your hair gently. That beautiful, genuine smile found its way to your face without you noticing. You where to lost in the feeling of relaxation.

But that soon came to an end. That euphoric state was snapped out of you when you noticed a bright light coming towards you. Getting bigger and bigger in just seconds. Until it became more clear, it was a spacecraft of some sort. A poorly built one to say the least. You sat and watched, mesmerised, as the flames from the object slowly engulfed it. Burning in the atmosphere. Finally hitting the ground, you shook your head and sighed. Being brought back into reality.

The flames took a second to fade after the ship had crashed. And it was clearer to see, it was the stereotypical UFO. The type you’d see in cheesy ski-fi films. But it had encryptions written in English. Which was very unusual, especially for it to be in this part of the galaxy.

What was even stranger was that it didn’t have even the slightest burn mark to it’s metal. Your vision of it became clearer and clearer the closer you got, slowly creeping past the incredibly green trees towards it. But just before you got too close, a figure fell out of the vehicle. Swearing like a drunken sailor.

This is what really messed with you, it was a human. You gasped quietly, not being able to remember the last time you saw one. A mix of feelings rushed over you; confusion, fear, excitement? You couldn’t help but stare, his unique blue hair bounced as he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the dirt on his lab coat.

“Fuck! You fucking piece of shit spacecraft. You’ve really done it this time Rick you fucking…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he kicked the lump of metal. Screaming at the top of his voice.

“Fuck!”

You caught a small glimpse of his face, and recognised him. But you weren’t sure where from. You had met millions of people over the years so he could really be anyone. But there was something so compelling about his character. Something that felt like you where being pushed towards him. Or pulled, by a red string perhaps. Something that was just telling you to interact with him.

You stayed hidden behind a rather tall tree, still collecting your thoughts and questioning whether you should help him. Rick had slumped himself against the ship, putting his hands to his face and grunting. Pausing his breakdown for a second to take a sip from his flask, then proceeding to carry on.

He stayed like this for a good few minutes, before you had decided to approach him. Your curiosity and questions where burning at the edge of your mind. You just had to investigate. Keeping a hand on your weapon tucked neatly in a pocket behind your back. You slowly walked towards him, not even being able to speak before he noticed you.

A gun had been pulled to you, aiming directly between your eyes

“What do you want? I’m not in the mood so just tell me in advance if I should shoot you or not..” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at the hand tucked behind your back.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up in surrender. Just how you remembered humans to be. Aggressive and impulsive.

“Calm down, I saw your ship crash. Thought you where in need of some assistance. And put that gun down, god…” to your surprise, he did. With a loud grunt he put his gun back into his pocket and turned away. Usually, he probably would’ve shot on site. And who’s to say he still won’t, but right in this moment he is too preoccupied to care.

“God doesn’t fucking exist…” he mumbled “and I definitely don’t need any assistance!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him as he attempted to fix his broken ship. Opening the lid to the engine and being greeted by a storm of smoke. Now Seconds away from another breakdown.

“Are you… okay?” You hesitantly asked, daring to inch closer to him. Probably was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. He threw the wrench down at the engine as he exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. I lost my grandson, the entire galactic government is after me, I broke my portal gun and I just crashed my ship into a planet with no helpful resources to fix it.!” His speech sped up, and he went dead silent when he stopped talking. Clearly regretting telling you anything. He is usually good at keeping his mind together and keeping his problems to himself. But he had so much adrenaline pumping through his blood, he could barely concentrate.

“I’m, i’m sorry for your loss” is all you managed to get out

“What? Oh no, my grandsons not dead. I just left him somewhere and forgot exactly where…” he spoke slightly softer, still grunting as he tried to analyse his engine.

There was a small silence while you processed everything he had just said. Moving closer to get a look at his engine, you shook your head.

“You’ve burnt it out…”

“Yeah, no shit smart ass” he bit at you

You rolled your eyes and snatched the spanner from the place he had dropped it. Not using it to fix his engine, but you pulled out a small metal box from your pocket instead. Fixing a few pieces together. Rick stood there and watched with a puzzled look on his face. Moving his eyes from the gadget, then up to get a look at you.

His eyebrows softened as he took in your features, the creases in his forehead disappeared. A rush of a strange feeling replaced the adrenaline, not being able to pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like it. He could only describe it as his heart softening, and getting lost in a place that was familiar to him. Thats what he felt when he looked at your eyes, reflecting off of his.

“Hav-have we met before?” He said in a much calmer tone

You placed the gadget on the engine and pressed a small red button on the top, looking up at him.

“I don’t think so?” The box moved around the engine, like a shield. Fixing it effortlessly, Ricks eyes darted from you, to the engine, then back to you. Now with amazement written all over his face.

Deja vu was the only state good enough to describe what he was experiencing. You broke the silence by holding a hand out to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

It took a quick second for him to respond, still trying to process your face and remember how he knows you.

“I’m… Rick” he finally shook your hand.

“Rick Sanchez..”

That name was oddly familiar to you. Like you’d heard it in a dream. Or it was a loved ones name in a past life. You felt like you had heard it before, in a very distant memory. But no recollection of the connection.

“That seems…familiar” you tilted your head, squinting your eyes at the old man who gave you the same look.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew me. I am the smartest man In the universe”

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Six)

AN- Two chapters in one night... hope you like them! Soft Holmes Brothers scene at the end because, especially after the Eurus situation, the boys truly do love and care for each other! Not proof read either of these yet so apologies if there are mistakes!

Word Count- 4405

The younger brother's eyes had flicked over you both only momentarily, the tiniest flick up of his lips at the side of his mouth that disappeared so quickly it could have been misinterpreted for a twitch.

"Ever the delight, Sherlock." Mycroft spoke, standing straighter, his chin poking up a little higher. Sherlock glanced over his posture and rolled his eyes.

"Oh for God's sake don't start that Mycroft. Had I blamed you for everything I can assure you I wouldn't have bothered opening the door, don't make it so obvious that you care about my opinion of you- it's embarrassing for both of us." And with that he spun around and headed up the stairs to 221B, leaving the door to the flat wide open and disappearing into the bathroom.

"Well that was.."

"Easy? I told you that you shouldn't worry." You nudged Mycroft into the building before ascending the stairs.

"Sherlock Holmes, possibly the only man in the world to forgive somebody for nearly killing him in a heartbeat, but held a 6 month grudge when I took the last custard cream from the biscuit jar when I was 12.." Mycroft muttered, making his way into the flat and sitting beside you on the two seater sofa. John walked into the room from the kitchen shortly after, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand as he said his hellos.

"Figured I'd stick the kettle on when you said you were on your way.. Greg shouldn't be long now." He gave a smile, taking his place in his own armchair. "How have.." He glanced at Mycroft. "How have you been? He won't admit it, but Sherlock's been worried about you." Mycroft took a breath, sending a polite smile in the direction of the army doctor.

"Doctor Watson, I can assure you that I am fine and have been perfectly well looked after." His eyes flickered to you for a moment and then back to the doctor. "I presume the pair of you have held up well as I haven't heard any reports of gunfire towards the wall for a fair bit of time." John grinned, casting his eyes over to the smiley face on the wall that had thankfully been left alone.

"Good. Yeah, uh, things here have been.. good.. too." A blank stare matched with a more thoughtful raise of lips. ".. Very good, actually.."

"Catch." Sherlock came stalking into the room, a damp flannel thrown in Mycroft's general direction which he caught expertly, not allowing a single moist patch to appear on his clothing.

"And this is.."

"A flannel? Christ Mycroft has trauma affected your brain cells that much?" Sherlock quipped, flopping down into his armchair and lazily holding his hand out for his tea that was a mere few inches away from his fingers. John placed the mug in his hand without thought or argument, his fingers brushing over Sherlock's slightly before moving away. A biscuit soon followed, John holding out the digestive while Sherlock partly opened his lips, and shoving the food between them. It was your turn to raise your brow now, but you didn't say anything, instead just nudging Mycroft with your knee to make sure he had seen it too. Of course he had. "It's for your face, Y/N's lip balm is all round your mouth and it's making me feel a bit sick." John's eyes widened as he looked between the pair of you. You shrugged your shoulders and smiled, Mycroft simply sweeping away the slightly pink balm from underneath his lip and folding the wet cloth back up to place on the side. At least he hadn't picked up that you did it on purpose. Before anybody else could speak, the sound of someone bounding up the stairs filled the flat.

"Sorry I'm late, Ms Hudson let me in an- what did I miss?" Greg stood breathless at the door, satchel slung over his shoulder and a carrier bag in his other hand, staring at the apparent awkward glances shared between half the room. You stood from the sofa and headed over towards him, swiftly wrapping your arms around him and placing a small kiss on his cheek to say hello. He made his way into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa closest to Mycroft, casting another look at everybody when his question still hadn't been answered.

"Nothing of importance. Mycroft and Y/N have obviously decided to stop moping around each other like lovesick teenagers and finally admitted they've been infatuated with each other for years.. Now you're all caught up, can we get these papers sorted out so I can be more productive with my time?" Sherlock huffed.

"Nothing of importance? Don't be an arse Sherlock, that's excellent news." Greg clapped Mycroft on his shoulder and shot you a toothy grin. "Declaration in the park was it? Might be a good enough reason for me to not punch you for closing off St James'.." John's eyes widened more, if it were possible.

"You just.. closed off St James'? Can you even do-" The look Mycroft shot John made him cut his sentence short. "Right, yeah. British Government." He nodded, standing to go fetch Greg a coffee (yourself and Mycroft still held a shared judgement against Greg and his hatred for tea) and continuing to ask questions about your newly confirmed relationship. Mycroft sat awkwardly through the encounter- briefly talking about his emotions in front of you was one thing, a whole flat full of people was entirely different- so you gave his knee a quick squeeze and answered for him. "Who bit the bullet then?" John sat down. "Christ I know I mistook the pair of you being together when I met you, so surely these two have been waiting longer for you to get on with it." Greg grinned, nodding in agreement at John's assumption. Sherlock, on the other hand, stay lying on his chair completely unphased by the conversation going on around him.

"To cut a long story short, we were watching telly, I said Stephen Fry was a bit sexy, Mycroft informed me that he used to get told he had a slight resemblance to him, I realised I'd stuck my foot in it and had a ramble.. Went from there. Nothing too exciting, sorry." You left out the parts where the night before you had handled a broken Mycroft to the shower, how he had gripped onto you, how you held him as you slept. You also left out the way he had allowed himself to cry, how you held him while he wept- and, for that, Mycroft was incredibly thankful. Sherlock probably knew though, somehow, in his Sherlock way of knowing things- but he was either too kind to announce it to the room, or didn't care enough to waste his breath.. probably the latter.

"That's disappointing. You've mentioned about fancying Stephen Fry for years, this could have happened ages ago." John teased.

"Nothing compared to Hugh Laurie though. I'm pretty certain that I'm straight but I'd let him-"

"The papers!!" Sherlock's shout cut Greg's ramble off, making the silver haired man jump and grab his satchel, handing out the reports in a way that reminded you of a teacher with test papers.

"Right, yeah. Sorry. Basically the proper forms aren't ready for another week or so so these are just a few basic questions- nothing too in depth yet since I wanted to give you guys time to... yeah just basic for now." Mycroft chose to read through all the questions before answering them, whereas Sherlock  hastily scribbled his response to each question as he went along- the smaller details in the Holmes brothers' differences are always interesting to stumble upon. As he held the page in his hands, you carefully leant over to have a glance at the questions, your hand resting lightly on his shoulder and your cheek resting just against your fingers- blissfully unaware at the 2 sets of eyes openly staring at your movements, and the one set that watched from the side. Greg was right, in a way, the questions definitely weren't as overbearing as they could be- but that doesn't mean it was an easy task. The questions targeted Mycroft a lot more than it did John and Sherlock, asking things about scenarios and situations that had occured before they were taken, how long it had been since they had any contact with Eurus prior to that evening/ what they discussed, and a few basic questions about any incentives Eurus may have had, and anything that aided her into her plan. Of course the papers weren't labelled with the sister's name, they were generically printed and typically handed out to anybody involved in any kind of criminal behaviours, but that didn't make it seem any less like these were questions that targeted Mycroft in particular. Mycroft took a deep breath and laid the papers back onto the coffee table in front of him, pulling a pen out of his pocket and beginning to write. In this moment you had noticed the small bounce of his left leg, a movement only ever shown by him in times where he had a particularly stressful day at work, or a troubling encounter with his brother- it was a movement that let you know his brain was running a mile a minute and he felt a little more overwhelmed that usual. Without making a point of it, you move your right hand to rest on his mid thigh, allowing your thumb to rub small shapes into his leg to show your support.

Turning your gaze to the rest of the room, you noticed Greg's eyes on you, a grin on his face that practically stretched to his ears. You rolled your eyes at him, using your other hand to flip him off and smiled.

It had taken just under two hours in total for the boys to finish completely (well, an hour and twenty minutes for the Holmes siblings, an extra forty minutes for John whose brain simply didn't work as fast as theirs to convey the information on the paper). The time had passed fairly quickly, with yourself and Greg not wanting to disturb the silence and instead just drinking your hot drinks and stealing a couple of biscuits from the tray. You gave Mycroft's leg one last squeeze before sitting back against the sofa, stretching a little after finally getting out of that position.

"Thanks again for getting this done today." Greg spoke, taking the papers in and putting them in a plastic folder. "I'd better be off anyway, get these filed in." He stood, heading for the front door and tripping over the carrier bag he had brought in with him earlier. "Shit, yeah I almost forgot." He picked up the bag and handed it to you. "Got your coat, and I may have accidentally read your mind if you had been talking about Stephen and Hugh.." You dug through the bag and grinned as you pulled out the box at the bottom.

"You, Gregory Lestrade, are a bloody legend. God I could kiss you!" Your boxset of 'A Bit of Fry and Laurie' rested in your hands and you showed it to Mycroft, beaming at him. His lips raised at your reaction, showing a small glint in his eye, as you explained how now the pair of you would have to binge watch it since Mycroft had never got round to watching them before. Greg barked out a laugh.

"I wouldn't. I don't fancy being hunted by Mycroft's secret services." Mycroft let out a small laugh himself. And with that, Greg was gone and left the flat to the four of you once more.

***

You hadn't stayed at the flat long before you all made your way to Angelo's restaurant, even managing to convince Mycroft to just take a cab rather than bothering his chauffeur for a 5 minute journey.

"Ahhh Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson!" Angelo greeted, pulling the aforementioned men into an awkward half embrace, half headlock. "Back again so soon? I shall get your usual table set up, grab some candles. Anything for you!" The pair of men awkwardly shifted out of the hold and Sherlock offered a smile.

"Not today Angelo, we need a table for four if that suits your capacities here?" Sherlock peered round at the tables inside.

"Of course, a double date, very lovely to see! Come, come!" He led the four of you inside, you grinning at Mycroft at Angelo's casual mentionings of Sherlock and John's usual 'romantic' set up. You were all ushered inside of a small booth and handed menus, the benches were small but tolerable, your thigh just brushing against Mycroft's, him offering a shy smile at the close contact. "You stay here, I'll get to work on those candles. Just for you, Mr Holmes." Angelo spoke again, clapping Sherlock on his shoulder and disappearing into the back of the restaurant.

"He's.. uh.. a bit enthusiastic sometimes." John spoke, his cheeks burning a little at the memories of previous encounters here.

"Quite. Seems a pleasurable fellow." Came Mycroft's response, glancing over the menu. It had taken no time at all for the restaurant owner to appear back with a handful of small tealight candles in glass jars, and a single flower resting in a vase to lay on the table, taking everybody's orders and leaving once again. Then as the food turned up, Sherlock began to prod at the chips on his plate with his knife.

"What are you doing? Eat your bloody food, Sherlock." John quipped, elbowing the man to his side.

"Don't want it.. whoever decided that dessert was only customary after a meal? I'd much rather wait." John gave Sherlock a look and he spoke again. "Don't give me that look, this was your idea. Who even suggests 'late lunch' as a valid meal time? It's impractical. I didn't eat breakfast because we didn't get out of bed until well past the respected breakfast hour.." 'We'.. you didn't press. "So I had a sandwich at lunch which has ruined my appetite for this. Then I'll be hungry again later, but later than dinner time because of how late this lunch is." Sherlock childishly squashed his chip with his thumb. "It's just ridiculous.. they keep adding new names for new meals at new hours, I feel like we're becoming Bobbits."

"Hobbits, brother mine." Mycroft corrected, the faintest smile playing at the side of his mouth as Sherlock's words sounded alarmingly like the ones he had told you only this morning- it was nice when they just got along.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Bobbits."

"Boys!" John warned, and you broke out into a small fit of giggles.

"We really can't take you anywhere, can we?" You chimed in. Sherlock just huffed, stabbing a chip and eating it as John gave him a stern look. It was quite sweet, actually, watching them be all domestic. By the time you'd finished your meals, yours and John's plates were clear, Sherlock's leaving only a few chips and a mouthful of burger as he found, after starting to eat the food, that he really enjoyed it and wanted more. Mycroft, on the other hand, had managed to leave little over half of his spaghetti bolognese, making comments about the pasta being far too rubbery, or the sauce being too thin, crossing the cutlery over in the centre and making a dismissive comment about making something to eat when he got home- you all knew he wouldn't.

Sherlock had practically jumped for joy when Angelo came out with a tray of chocolate fudge cake, offering slices around the table which you all, bar Mycroft, accepted happily.

"I shan't spoil my appetite for when I get home." Was his small excuse, raising a hand to prevent Angelo from spouting his claims that he had the best cake in London and that he must have a piece, and instead asking for a coffee. Without words being spoken, John cast his eyes over to you and you offered a small sad smile. Nobody had told John of Mycroft's past, but he was a doctor and always knew when signs were displayed. You had taken an extra fork from Angelo just in case and took a small bite with your own fork, unable to let out the (embarrassingly erotic) moan that had escaped you.

"Christ he wasn't lying, this is incredible." You praised, taking another small piece on the second fork. "Mycroft please give it a try." You offered your hand out towards him, the sliver of cake resting on the tip of the fork's prongs. He looked over at it, his mind telling him to give it a go, at the very least because it had been offered by you, but the image of himself in the mirror this morning came back to mind. He declined the offer and you sighed. Mycroft truly did love cake, and any sweet things, so it was heartbreaking for you to see him turning it away because of the thoughts that ran through his brain. Sherlock had already cleared his plate by this point and stood up abruptly, hoisting his coat back over his shoulders.

"I'm going to go out for a cigarette, care to join me Mycroft?" He had asked, walking past the table. Mycroft creased his eyebrows into a frown.

"Sherlock, the pact? I haven't smoked for three years."

"Neither have I, let's go." Sherlock spoke back quickly, hoisting his brother from the booth and taking the pair of them outside. You raised a brow at John who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I stopped questioning the pair of them and their motives a long time ago." He reasoned, the pair of you turning your heads to see the two Holmes boys outside resting against the restaurant's window.

"I try my best to.. they just still fascinate me." You spoke back, your eyes lingering on Mycroft a little longer before turning back to the table.

"So.. you and Mycroft. Going well?" John asked, his mouth raising in that side smile he often displayed when he was teasing somebody. "I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen Mycroft Holmes smile in a non-threatening way, and over half of those were from since you walked into the flat earlier. I think I can only just about count on two hands times where he's pulled an expression that isn't stoic and emotionless."

"Yeah.. I didn't expect it to happen, if I'm completely honest with you. We've spent so many years just avoiding the subject, but after.. Eurus.. I don't know. It flicked something in Myc that made him regret not doing something about it sooner." John nodded, understanding where you were coming from. "You also don't give him enough credit. Everybody just assumes he's this 'iceman' persona, but it's all a front.. I've watched him laugh so hard that tears fall from his eyes, he's one of those people who throws their heads back and lets out an absolute belter of an infectious laugh. I've seen him get angry at the telly if I came over and some stupid reality show came on the telly.. He shouted at Kim Kardashian once on there for some reason or another. I've stayed up all night with him after he had gruelling days at work, him offering to do the same for me if I had a bad case and couldn't sleep. And then, very recently, I watched him cry." You continued on. "Mycroft Holmes is one of the most emotional, caring people I've ever known, he is just incredibly particular at who gets to see it. You're a doctor, John. You know how experiences in life can shape one's emotional stability, how it alters their mental health. Had you grown up without very many people being kind to you, you'd be scared to let somebody else in too." You finished.

"Sorry.. I didn't mean it to come out in a bad way.. I just meant.. It's nice. Seeing Mycroft acting like that, it's.. nice." He apologised. You waved it off. You knew John didn't mean any harm.

"Mycroft and I are old news anyway.. What about you and Sherlock? When did that surface?" You asked, beaming at the deep red John's face had become as he choked on a sip of his drink. "Oh come on, don't act like that. We've all been waiting for this one to happen since you moved in."

"I.. I don't know what you-" Glaring at him, he stopped himself. "Yeah fine, okay. When we got back to the flat that night we went into the front room and Sherlock lost it. I'd never seen him anything like it before, he just.. he just sobbed into a heap on the floor." He explained, the nervous tapping of his fingers against his glass trying to distract him from his eyes watering. "I didn't know what else to do, so I scooped him up and put him in his bed. He begged me to stay with him and I did. Then he apologised to me, for dragging me in all of that mess, for almost getting me killed and he just wouldn't stop apologising.. So I stole the stereotypical movie move and kissed him. Just kind of went from there. I think that night made us realise that beating around the bush all these years wasn't helping either of us, and the thought that we could have lost the other only a few hours beforehand woke us up." He coughed, his voice breaking slightly.

"God look at us.. All the people in the world and we've landed with the Holmes'" You grabbed John's hand from across the table and laughed. "Makes you feel quite special though, doesn't it? That, equally, there were all the people in the world and they chose us?" John grinned, giving your hand a squeeze.

"Could never tell them that though, their egos would go through the bloody roof."

***

"They're talking about us." Sherlock mused, breathing in the London air.

"It seems people do little else." Mycroft returned, casting his glance to you smiling with John at the table.

"She really does like you. I've spent years deducing everything about her to make sure she wasn't a secret Russian spy sent with the motive to kill you." The younger spoke playfully. "You could have eaten the cake."

"Hmm?"

"The cake. I know you wanted it, but you're going back to how you used to be. Now that you're together, you're nervous." Sherlock's voice was nonchalant, simple observations, which didn't ease his older brother at all. "It's pointless. She's entirely infatuated. I thought the childish doe eyes disappeared after being attracted to somebody for a few weeks, but she still looks at you like I look at a triple homicide."

"Resulting to similes now?"

"You need to stop that too. Dismissing it whenever somebody is trying to be... kind... to you. That's just annoying and not a good defence mechanism for insecurities, like a mask made of clingfilm, it's too obvious." Mycroft didn't speak in turn and Sherlock huffed. "She worries for you, she seeks for you to be comfortable in trialling situations, her eyes do that little light up thing every time you open your bloody mouth. Since standing here she's looked over 3 times and smiled to herself seeing you stand here with me without us arguing. I caught her 4 times on the way to the cab from the flat looking at your arse and your legs in that damned suit. You don't have to worry about anything with her- the way she looks at you is so lovesick it makes me queasy."

"And you know this how, Sherlock? Or is this another one of your cruel schemes to embarrass me?"

"Because, Mycroft, it's the same way you've looked at her for as long as I can remember you knowing her. Jesus, Mycroft, I haven't seen you smile this much since we were children.. before we did everything that led us to believe we were any better than anybody else, that we deserved more than sentiment. And it's the same way I.. the same way I look at him." Sherlock's eyes now locked onto John.

"Always did say there would be a happy announcement between the pair of you. Good to see I'm correct once again." Mycroft mused. He remained stoic, but his brother's words were whirring in his brain, leaving him in a state of shock at the curly haired man even displaying this form of kindness towards him.

"You told me once that caring isn't an advantage. But these last few days, no matter how short it has been, have already led me to believe that caring is perhaps the greatest advantage of them all. And I strongly believe you feel the same way, no matter what bull you make up to argue against it." The pair of them watched through the window once more, the image of you and John laughing at whatever joke had been shared between you. "We both have wasted many years fighting against this, and I don't want you to screw yours up. Y/N will remain by your side and feel the same way towards you, whether you wear a bin bag, lose your job, put on weight- she's in it for the long haul. She's spent so many years pining after you that she deserves the best from you and to be happy. And you, brother mine, have been through enough with not good people; you deserve the happiness too." Sherlock trailed the last sentence. It's incredibly rare for them to show it, but Sherlock and Mycroft would always have a particularly close bond, they've been through too much together not to- and so times like this were precious to them. Mycroft simply let out a small cough, reaching his arm over to rest on his younger brother's shoulder to give it a quick squeeze, before patting it twice and letting his arm rest back by his side.

"Sentiment appears to be dwelling well on you." Mycroft spoke, heading back to the door of the restaurant to head inside, holding it open for his brother.

"As it is on you, brother. As it is on you."

[let-them-read-fics]

Worth It

Requested By: You guys!

Pairing: Lisa x Fem!5thMember!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,543

Warnings / Misc. -- Fluff, Suggestive Themes

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! A bunch of you guys have been requesting a continuation to the previous Lisa fic I did, so I thought I'd provide for you 😌 I really hope you all enjoy this little addition ♡ Happy Reading ♡

Previous: Dancing In The Dark

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You should've known. It was all too good to be true -- too close to being a fairytale as it teetered on the edge of perfection, just waiting to fall off that mythic pedestal. 

Lisa's eyes meet yours the moment you walk through the front door, opening widely as she scrambles to collect herself -- she clearly hadn't expected to be caught. 

"Seriously, Lisa? Wow." Part of you is shocked, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't see this coming. The bags in your hands hang heavily, weighed down by everything YG sent home with you for review, and their plastic straps uncomfortably dig into your palms now. You don't put them down, though; they serve as a good distraction for what you're witnessing. 

"Y/N-- I can explain, I promise!" Lisa walks around the counter and tries to reach for you, but you're quick to step away before she can. 

"Don't," you say, glancing down at her outstretched hand. She gets the memo, giving a subtle nod as she obediently puts it back at her side to appease you. 

"I can't believe you."

"Baby I'll go pick up some more, any kind you want!" Her eyes are pleading now, scanning between yours with purpose as her brows furrow more and more. She's desperate to make it up to you. 

Her bargaining piques your interest, but you don't show it. She's not getting off the hook that easily. "How could you eat the last one?" Disappointed, you give her a hurt look. "You know I've been craving them and you still ate it! I didn't even get one!" 

"I'm sorry! I didn't realize that this was the only box of them we had." 

Your favorite donuts, all gone. And when you're on your period, no less. The audacity that your girlfriend possesses really blows you away sometimes. 

The pout on your face eventually fades a bit as you see the sincerity in her eyes, and with a small huff, you crack a smile. After stepping around her to place your bags on the counter, you turn around and wiggle a finger at her. "We're getting 2 boxes, and you're paying." 

"Of course, babe. You can get as many toppings as you want, too." She adds, her smile widening obnoxiously as she wraps her arms around you. 

"You're lucky you're cute, jerk." Your arms loop around her neck as she pulls you in, rubbing your back to soothe you. Despite joking around, she really does feel guilty -- she knows how bad your periods can get, and those sweet treats always seem to make things at least a little better. 

"Come on, let's go get them." She whispers against your temple.

You raise your head to look at her, eyes wide in shock. "Right now? I thought you meant we'd go tomorrow… it's getting late, Lis."

"Why would I miss out on an opportunity for a late night drive with my girl? Besides, it's still open for…" she glances at her watch before looking back into your eyes, "...2 more hours. I think that should be enough time for you to choose." She teases, narrowing her eyes at you playfully. You can be pretty indecisive at times, but a lot of that uncertainty seems to fade for you when you're hungry enough. 

"They have so many good options, though. You might have to help me pick." 

"Okay, but do me a favor? Remember this moment when you want to yell at me again for not getting enough of your favorite kind." She cracks up when she sees you hide your face behind your hands, laughing at yourself. 

"I do get pretty cranky sometimes, don't I?" You tilt your head to the side, looking at her with a soft smile.

"That's an understatement, but I'll let it slide. You're adorable." 

She plants a sweet kiss to your cheek before grabbing your hand and leading you out to the car. 

---

Where you go I follow

No matter how far

If life is a movie

Oh you're the best part, oh oh oh

You're the best part, oh oh oh

Best part

The windows of Lisa's car are rolled down, allowing the warm evening air of Seoul to flow in and gently ghost over your skin. Vibrant city lights pass by leisurely, blending together in the distance to create a breathtaking skyline, and Lisa has no desire to rush anything. She keeps the car at a cruising speed, enabling you to relax and enjoy the smooth ride. Her thumb strokes over your knuckles as she sings along with the song, both of you knowing who she's aiming the words at. Occasionally she brings your hand to her lips, laying soft kisses to your skin. 

The heat radiating from your seat warmer fends off any possibility of a cramp, further putting you at ease. Today was a long day of rehearsal and interviews, only broken up by meetings that you didn't particularly enjoy sitting through. It drug on mercilessly, paying no mind to how exhausted you were or how eager you were to be home. Every time you'd sneak a glance at the clock, nodding along to whatever your manager was saying without actually listening, you'd find the time creeping by, the minute hand barely further than what it had been during your last check. It was boring and monotonous, but now you're here with Lisa and you couldn't be happier. 

The open sunroof allows for you to peek up at the stars, seeing them twinkle brightly for you, as if to say hello again. The sky surrounding them is rich; its velvety darkness serves as the perfect backdrop for them, making their colors pop in all the right ways. It's a gorgeous sight, and although you hate to admit it, maybe you're not too incredibly angry at Lisa for eating your donuts after all. 

"We missed you back at the dorm today," she says with a soft smile, her eyes still trained on the road as she lazily rubs her cheek against your intertwined hands. 

"Yeah?" You ask, turning your attention to her. "I missed you guys, too. I couldn't wait to get out of there; Jiyoung barely gave us a break, and we were practically buried in all the paperwork we had to go through. I've never signed so many things in my life." A grimace tugs at your features at the lame memory, and Lisa sports a very similar expression. 

"I'm so glad I'm not you," she says with an amused smile now, chuckling when you flick her. "We're so proud of you though, baby, and all of this work will be worth it. Your solo is gonna blow everyone away." The fleeting look she throws over her shoulder to you makes your heart swell with pride, and you're reminded of how far the two of you have come. 

Through trials and tribulations, hidden feelings and repressed desires, the two of you eventually found your way to each other in the end. You'll never forget the day that she asked you to be hers:

"Lisa, we can't get another cat right now! You know I love them just as much as you, but we don't have room." You try to reason, running a brush through your hair as you continue getting ready. 

"You're no fun," she groans, throwing herself back onto the bed like a frustrated toddler. In a perfect world, she'd have a house filled to the brim with little kitties scurrying around, rolling and playing with each other -- she doesn't understand why some people try to put a limit on how many she can have.

"Stop complaining or we'll be late," you warn, giving yourself a final once-over in the mirror before walking over to the bed. You stand between her parted legs, gazing down at her until she realizes you're there and opens her eyes to look at you.

For a moment, she doesn't say anything; she just takes in the sight of you before shaking her head. She's smiling like a giddy teenager, and you can't help but question her with a breathy laugh. 

"I'm so in love with you." 

She's implied that before -- her words usually accompanied by nervous fidgeting and an avoidance of eye contact -- but something about this time is different. Her gaze holds a softness that you've never quite seen from her, an added layer of tenderness and care behind her words. 

She's not afraid anymore, and, truthfully, neither are you. 

You've turned her into a more gentle person - one that thinks before she speaks and doesn't act so impulsively anymore - and a sense of accomplishment settles within your heart. It's not that you wanted to change her -- she just naturally adopted some of your mannerisms, shifting into a better version of herself. 

"I've never loved anybody like I love you, Lisa." You confess, a look of pure adoration on your face as you realize how true your own words are. She's evolved into a better person to be with you, knowing that she couldn't function as her old self any longer, and that alone makes her different from all the rest. 

You see her release a little nervous breath as she moves to sit further back on the bed, coaxing you into her lap. You have a sneaking suspicion of what's coming, but you bite back the smile that threatens to break out on your face and allow her to speak next.

"Well, then, I think it's only natural that I ask that question." She starts, referencing back to the night that you all made up. You're glad you didn't jump into anything then, when you were high on your emotions -- both of you needed time to grow individually first, but now the stars are finally aligned. You know the time is right now, and you're ready to be together.

"Go ahead," you nod with a smile, playing with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck as your arms rest against her shoulders. 

Part of you wants to mess with her and say no, but all of that goes out the window once she asks the words she's been dying to. 

"Jagi, will you be my girlfriend?" 

"I'd love to, Lili." 

Smiling like an idiot, she wraps her arms around you and lays back, falling onto the cushions with a soft bounce as she pulls you in for a kiss. She peppers your face with hundreds of tiny pecks, giggling when you squirm and squeal at her ministrations. 

You pull away slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and you grin. "Should we just cancel the reservation? I don't think we'll make it on time and I'm too happy right now to even leave." 

She agrees, deciding that eating takeout on the couch while Netflix plays in the background is a much more tempting offer, and reaches for the phone in your back pocket. 

She lets her hands wander, knowing exactly what she's doing to you, but you allow her to have her fun -- a fitting revenge plan is already being formulated in your mind anyway. 

The fingers of her unoccupied hand flirt with the hem of your shirt, sneaking up under the material to caress your side as she waits for her call to be answered. You brush the back of your hand over her cheek lovingly, reveling at how smooth her skin is. 

"Gorgeous," you whisper, tilting your head down to kiss along her jawline. She sighs as you continue, lulling back into that blissful state of happiness she enters anytime your lips are on her. 

Suddenly, the line picks up and a familiar greeting can be heard. "Hello, how may I help you?" A surprisingly pleasant voice asks, the smile evident in how her words come out. 

"Hi, I'm calling to cancel a reserva-- oh," Lisa starts off strong, only to get blindsided halfway through when she feels your lips against her neck. They tease the tender skin just the way she likes, strategically parted by your tongue every now and then to lick a heated path to your next target area. 

She has to pull the phone away from her mouth when you snake a hand down her body, allowing it to travel to all the places she wants you most. 

"Ma'am?" The hostess asks when the line remains silent, Lisa too busy moving her head to the side to give you more access to respond to her. 

"S-sorry about that," she lightly smacks the back of your head as punishment, but soon groans again when you nip at her pulse point. "Manoban. I need to cancel my reservation." 

The woman begins typing away at her keyboard, searching the list for Lisa's name. Your girlfriend's legs wrap around your waist, and she grinds her hips against you with a smirk on her lips. The little tease is loving this. 

You move away from her neck now, satisfied with the marks you left behind as you follow the path that your hand previously made. You leave no area unattended as you methodically work your way down, making it a point to give attention to all of her most sensitive spots in order to get a rise out of her.

You do, of course, in the form of quiet expletives and breathy mewls of your name in between the small talk she's having with the hostess. 

When you sit back on your knees, momentarily stilling your movements, Lisa's eyes flutter down to where your hands rest: right at the front of her jeans. She gulps at the mischievous look in your eye, but bites her lip nonetheless. 

"--Yes, okay Ms. Manoban, I see your reservation for 9PM? Is that correct?" 

You undo the first button.

"Yes, that's correct." 

You tease her, running your fingers along the material before popping the next one open. Her hips involuntarily buck up towards your hand when you brush it against her center, bringing a shade of blush to her cheeks. 

"And to ensure that we're meeting the needs of all of our customers, may I ask your reason for canceling?" 

You flick the last one open, glad that she's only wearing a semi-high waisted pair of pants -- that little game was fun, but her hushed moans have gotten you riled up. She covers her mouth, sinking her teeth into her palm to silence herself when you pull her pants past her hips and lay needy kisses to her upper thighs.

"Something just… came up. No fault on your part," she rushes out, wishing she could just hang up now and not care enough to be polite. 

Her eyes lock with yours when you push her shirt farther up, kissing across her toned stomach as you tug on the waistband of her lingerie. Its maroon lace is paired with accents of deep purple, contrasting with her skin gorgeously as jagged breaths ripple through her. You admire the bruising patches your lips have left behind that paint her stomach, splashes of darkness to accompany the material that leaves little to the imagination. 

"Ah, I see. Well we hope you'll come back and see us." 

Just as Lisa is about to say a hurried goodbye and hang up, the hostess asks, "Speaking of, would you like to book another now?" 

Lisa's head digs into the comforter, her eyes tightly closed in frustration… for multiple reasons. She tangles her fingers in your hair, her silent way of pleading for you to continue, and she does her best to sound stable as she responds.

"No, no. Thank you, though. Goodbye." The very second that she registers a parting word from the other end, she quickly hangs up and tosses the phone to another part of the bed. 

"That was cruel," she breathes out, though both of you know she isn't upset in the slightest. 

"You loved it," you say, self-assured as you smile against her hip bone. A slight tremble runs through her body, and it works to boost your confidence tenfold. 

"You drive me crazy, Y/N."

You're pulled from your pleasant reverie by the feeling of Lisa nudging your thigh with her hand. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes. 

"We're here, my love." She says, unbuckling herself. You let out a tired yawn before doing the same, and you thank her when she comes around to open your door for you. You settle against her side, and soon enough the two of you are filtering into the cozy little shop.

Rows of treats greet you, all tucked behind crystal clear walls of glass for protection from any stray kids that may try to snatch one of them when no one's looking. A shorter container sits beside the standing racks, stretching out to reveal an impressive array of ice cream and sorbet flavors. You wander around, studying the different options as if you don't already know them all by heart after being such a frequent customer for so long. 

"I'm debating on getting some ice cream, too. What do you think?" You ask Lisa, only to hear her let out an earth-shattering squeal in response. 

She clears her throat, amusingly composing herself, and acts like the inner 5 year old in her didn't just pop out. "We can get the Super-Ultra-Mega-Shareable Waffle Cone, if you want." 

"Sounds like a plan, babe." You laugh, seeing how ready she is to absolutely demolish some ice cream. You'll be lucky to even get a few bites in, you realize, though seeing her this happy is far more important. 

You spend the next few minutes deliberating with her like you're judges on some Food Network show, deciding on the perfect order as you rack the price up with every gourmet topping you add. Eventually satisfied with your choices, Lisa kisses your cheek and sends you off to find a seat while she pays. Upon scanning the entirety of the dining area, you spot a corner booth that's tucked away from the busy center of the store, and you smile at how intimate it is. It's perfect, and you begin making your way over to it. 

She follows behind you shortly after, shoving the change she just received down into her pocket. The large cone rests in her other hand, and she swipes her tongue along the top of it, gathering up a generous amount of whipped cream as she slides into the seat across from you.

You swear you can hear angels singing as you open one of the boxes, seeing the beautiful spread of yummy treats lined up together in neat little rows. Their delicious aromas waft up, making your mouth water in anticipation. So, deciding not to waste anymore time, you reach for the one that you've been dying to sink your teeth into all day and take your first, glorious bite.

It's made just the way you like it, with the perfect dough-to-glaze-to-topping ratio imaginable. The memory of Lisa specially requesting them to be made fresh warms your heart, and you open your eyes to look at her. 

"Oh mah gahd--" you say around your mouthful of food, attempting to not choke and die when you see how crazy she looks. Ice cream is already messily smeared across her face, reaching just about everywhere -- her cheeks, nose, mouth -- you name it; and her hair is haphazardly pulled back in a messy bun. 

Halfway through crunching on the tasty cone again, she looks up at you. "What?" She asks, sounding as if she genuinely has no clue as to the state she's in. You motion to her face, prompting her to grab her phone and look at her own reflection. Rather than getting embarrassed, she lets out a loud cackle, successfully throwing the two of you into a laughing fit. 

It's the good kind -- slapping the table, making no noise as you egg each other on, filling the shop with those joyous sounds -- kind of thing; and seeing her so carefree is priceless. Any trace of stress that stuck around from the long day you had quickly disappears completely, no longer deserving of the room it was taking up in your brain. This moment with her is perfect, and you're so glad to be sharing it. 

After things die down a bit, the two of you lean back in your chairs, tightly clutching your aching stomachs. Your cheeks hurt, too, but it's the kind of pain you're more than happy to welcome with open arms. 

Lisa reaches for your hand across the table as she looks at you with that special twinkle in her eye, her smile looking particularly swoon worthy. "I'm really happy I ate those donuts earlier." She's teasing, but it's the truth -- this night is a memory she'll keep forever, added to the list of things she never wants to forget. 

"Me too." You squeeze her hand and pull her in, grinning at the taste of ice cream on her lips. The next part (which you knew was coming) still makes you squeal: she nuzzles her face against yours, spreading the sticky sweetness all over you as well. 

"There. Now we're matching." She kisses you again, leaving you to attempt to hide the unwanted smile that parts your lips. 

[juletheghoul]

Mysticus Chapter 1

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while and after reading all of the AWESOME writing on this website and with some really lovely encouragement from some of my favourite people here I've decided to give it a go. Always open to constructive criticism!

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 1649K

Warnings: Language, tension? (Smut later on)

Literally my first fic, willing to tag if that's something you'd like!

Masterlist Chapter 2

--

“Stay away from Thomas”

The words were out of your mouth before your brain had a chance to stop you. Fuck. The girl you whose palm you held in your hands frowned.

“My date? Why?”

How. How did you always manage to shove your foot in it? You had been doing so well! A steady trickle of patrons to your admittedly shabby little stand. Okay, table with a glittery table cloth and a couple of folding chairs but nevermind that.

“Uhhh, yeah. I’m not sure why but I’m getting a really bad vibe. Is this your first date with him? Where is he?” You asked. You could feel the fear creeping in, like a drop of ice cold water that slides down your spine.

“It’s our first date, he’s grabbing us some food.” She responded, brow furrowed slightly, you could see she was having doubts about her safety.

“What kind of vibe are you getting?” The fact that she didn’t laugh you off right away let you know that she most likely wasn’t as comfortable as she should be on a date.

Your dog looked up at you from her place on the floor, seemingly interested in how you were going to explain yourself.

“Look, I don’t really know what to say I just feel like you should get away as fast as possible. I think you know what I mean, and I think you felt a little weird before you sat down.” You say plainly. You had broke your only rule. No bad news. You could feel her fear now, a wave of anxiety washing over the both of you all at once. In the corner of your peripheral you could see a handsome young man walking towards the both of you with food in both hands. Nothing particularly scary about him but you could feel the hackles raising on your normally silent dog. A low growl came from her direction and you put your hand on her head to calm her.

“There you a-“ he started but before he could say anything else the girl was up, dropping money on your table and hastily making a phone call.

“Sorry Thomas – my mom just called, there’s been an emergency and she’s on her way.”

He frowned. “I can drop you off-“

“No need, thanks for everything and hopefully we can do this again” she quickly called over her shoulder and then she was off.

He stood there for a few minutes dumbstruck. Then you saw something. A glint in his eye maybe? A trick of the lights flashing either from the rides or the games on the either side of your pathetic ‘booth’ and then it was gone. When he seemed to realize that you were sitting there, he gave you a smile and walked away. You shivered and noticed your dog was up and ready to pounce.

“It’s okay girl we’re good.” You reassured her and she once again took her place at your feet, but you noticed that she followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight. Fuck you really needed to work on thinking about what you said before you said it. At least she listened instead of telling you to fuck off, little victories.

“What do you say girl, think it’s time to go?” The dogs ears perked up as you scratched behind one, she responded by standing, her signal for yes. You grabbed the box you had stashed under the little table and started putting your makeshift booth away. The sign which read palm readings $5, the table cloth and the can with your earnings for the night. Slipping the end of the dogs leash around your wrist you folded up the table and chairs and stacked everything neatly and made your way to your Jeep. Tomorrow will be better.

Next day

Carnivals had always freaked you out. A lot of places that were supposed to be fun and whimsical freaked you out. You weren’t entirely sure what it was about these places but it made your skin crawl. The music playing gave you the creeps, the smiles of the people around you seemed wild rather than happy. There was a feeling of something bigger underneath it all, something hungry. Predatory. Patient.

It was a last resort in order to make some quick money with your palm readings, but it always seemed like you were walking into the jaws of some huge monster when entering the grounds.

The dog made you feel better. You had found her in a shelter a couple of years ago and had instantly bonded with her. The staff had told you that she��d been in there for a while since she was notoriously unfriendly but she seemed to tolerate you. You suited each other. What they took as unfriendly, you understood as selective, which was fine. You were selective too. You’d had to make a little sign saying please do not pet the dog but it was a small price to pay for her companionship. She - much like you - was an excellent judge of character.

You spotted a group of teenage girls eyeing your booth, and you perked up. Tried to turn on the charm as it were, usually teenage girls were your best customers. You were usually really good with them and these girls were just what you needed to reach your goal for the night. You smiled along and told them just what they wanted to hear, and seeing them walk away giggling with a spring in their step made you happy. That and the cash you were putting into your coffee can.

Just then you felt it. Something prickling at your skin, like static before a rainstorm. Blood rushed to your ears and it seemed like everything was somehow louder. Something in the pit of your stomach was roiling and you were afraid you might throw up when someone approached your table.

He smiled an easy smile but it held something in it, something that said he knew something secret and you weren’t in on it. You weren’t sure if it intrigued you or scared you. You looked over expecting the dog to growl but she was calm, sitting quietly by your feet. Okay. Weird. She usually didn’t like anyone except you and the occasional small child. She usually hated men in fact but no reaction. It was throwing you off a bit if you were honest but all of a sudden he was speaking to you and you felt like you could barely focus.

“Well birdie, seems like you’ve utterly captured my attention and I simply must know what knowledge you can ascertain from my palm.” He smiled and sat down.

You blinked. What the hell was going? Why did your skin feel feverish? Why wasn’t the dog freaking out like she usually did? Why aren’t you answering?

He patiently waited with his palm upturned and you tried to get your shit together as you slowly reached over and took his hand. He was handsome sure, but never had you been rendered so speechless by anyone before. His rich brown eyes bore into you as you traced the lines in his hand.

“You’re going to meet the love of your life.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Now that’s interesting, I don’t suppose you’d be able to go into specifics about how or when this fateful meeting is to occur?”

You watched his mouth as he spoke, and he noticed. Curling it into the same secret smile from earlier and you felt the blood rushing to your face. His eyes crinkled when his smile deepened it took everything in you not to smile back at him.

You noticed the blonde birthmark and for a moment you had the wild urge to run your fingers through it. You quickly suppressed that while clearing your throat.

“I don’t have a time and date for you but it’ll be real soon.” You looked back down at his palm and noticed something. There was a little mark. Nothing crazy but aside from yourself, you’d never met anyone else with the same mark on their palm. You tried very hard to keep your breathing in check.

“Is this a scar?” You asked as casually as you could manage.

“That particular mark as afflicted me since birth, curious is it not?” He asked with a tilt of his head. His drawl a little more pronounced. Is it getting hotter?

“Somewhat-“

“Has anyone ever had the privilege of reading the no doubt fantastic future in your palm birdie?”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that” you responded focusing on the pet name he’d given you.

“It suits you, I ask again- has anyone ever been fortunate enough to read your palm?”

“No.” You responded flatly, reluctantly releasing his hand and sitting back in your chair. He stated back at you and it felt as though he was looking through you, you felt curiously naked.

“As enchanted as I am basking in your presence, I unfortunately must depart. Will you be offering your palmistry services tomorrow night? I should like to see you again birdie.”

“Uhh.. yes, I’ll be back tomorrow.” You’re not even sure why you said that, you were planning on leaving town tonight.

“Wonderful, until we meet again birdie.” He rose smiling, he took your hand in his and pressed a light kiss to it. You stared up at him in shock, your skin prickling where his lips brushed it.

He smiled down at your dog and before you could even think to warn him he reached down and scratched behind her ear. Your jaw dropped as she happily licked his palm while he murmured something into her ear before promptly rising to his feet and striding off into the crowd.

You stared after him long after with the same dumbstruck look on your face. Who the hell was that?

-----------------------------------------

Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey thanks for being patient with me ladies, this ones for y'all <3 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando

[toomanyrobins2]

One Year: January

Summary: Clint Barton, college football star, has a new interest: Y/N Y/L/N. But with her father gone all of the time, a younger brother, and going to college, Y/N has no time for dating. Will Clint get the yes, or will life get in the way?

Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Content warning: nothing really yet, douchey dad, occasional cursing, mentions of drinking and sex later

Notes: eighteen thousand years later here is the next chapter 💛

december // masterlist // february

Three days after Christmas, Y/N and Asher’s father rolled into town to throw a New Year’s event at the house for some new investors. As soon as he reappeared, she immediately fell off the grid, ignoring every text and call from Clint. Two days before New Year's had called her and left a message:

“Hey, gorgeous. I haven’t heard from you in a few days and now I know you’re ignoring my calls. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I want you to know that I’m not running. Saying I’m falling or you would be a lie because I’ve already fallen. If anyone ever heard this message, I’d made fun of for being such a sap, but I don’t care. Call me or text me and let me know that you and Asher are at least okay.”

Y/N had broken down in tears when she heard the message and as soon as Asher was in bed, she called him back: “Hi.”

“Hey, gorgeous. What’s going on?”

She sniffled, “My dad’s back in town.”

“Shit, I’m coming over.”

“What, no! You don’t need to do that. It’s just hard on Asher, which makes it hard on me.”

“You gave me a key. I’m coming over.”

Before she could argue, Clint hung up and drove straight over to the house. He immediately walked up to Y/N’s room and found her curled up on the bed. They didn’t speak as he just curled around her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. It only took her a few seconds to start crying and Clint just held her tighter. Eventually, she fell asleep and from the dark circles, this was the first proper sleep she had had in days.

Clint had eventually followed behind Y/N and fell asleep. Around 2, a cry had him jolt out of bed. He felt her grumble next to him, but she was not fully awake. Another cry fully woke Clint up and he realized that it was storming outside and that it was Asher calling for Y/N. He got out of bed and hurried down the hall. When he got into the bedroom, the six-year-old threw himself into Clint’s arms. He wrapped his arms around the little boy and rubbed Asher’s back. “Did the storm scare you?”

He felt him nod against his neck. “Do you want to come to bed with Y/N and me? We could protect her from the storm together.”

“You protect me?”

“Always, buddy.” Clint carried Asher back into Y/N’s room and they crawled into the bed. She immediately pulled her brother close to her and Clint laid on the other side of him, his arm thrown across so that his hand was on her waist.

The next morning, the trio was in the kitchen making Mickey Mouse pancakes. Clint was determined to cheer up the Y/L/N siblings. Music was playing and laughter echoed through the room. Asher nearly fell off the stool with how hard he was laughing when Y/N flipped a pancake into Clint’s face. As soon as they heard the front door close, the air grew thick with tension.

Clint watched as Y/N’s whole demeanor hardened and she unconsciously moved to stand closer to Asher. He watched a handsome man with grey hair stumble into the kitchen in a wrinkled suit. “Late night?” Y/N’s voice was unrecognizable, hard, and unfeeling.

“Dinner with a client ran long so I just got a room at a hotel,” He looked past and zoned in on the unfamiliar man in the kitchen, “And you are?”

“That’s Clint,” Asher piped up, “He’s my friend and Y/N’s boyfriend.”

He took a deep breath and put one hand on the small of Y/N’s back and held the other out to shake, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Y/L/N.”

“Pleasure. I’m assuming you will be my daughter’s date to the party?”

“Party?”

“Yes,” the older man flashed a charming smile and Clint started to understand how this man got away with everything, “A party for my investors on New Year’s Eve.”

Clint squeezed Y/N’s waist in comfort, “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Y/N tried multiple times to convince Clint not to waste his time at the party, but he wouldn’t hear it. Even after he arrived with his garment bag thrown over his shoulder, she was trying to talk him out of this. She babbled away as she put on her makeup, “I‘m just saying that I know that Bucky is throwing a party. Nat told me. You shouldn’t have to miss out on a good time because of me.”

Clint had just pulled on his shirt and marched into the ensuite. He spun her around so that she was trapped against the counter, “You are not going to convince me to leave.”

“But--”

He slammed his lips against her, feeling her hands travel up his chest to curl around the unbuttoned shirt. Clint wrapped one around her, pulling her as close as possible to him.

“Ew.” The couple separated and turned to see Asher standing in the doorway to the ensuite.

Clint kissed Y/N’s nose, “Nothing you say will change my mind. So get on board, gorgeous.” She just nodded dumbly, still reeling from the kiss. He went over to Asher and helped him up on the bed, “I have a surprise for you.” He pulled two ties out that were the team colors.

“We can match?” Asher was bouncing up and down.

“We can match.” Y/N watched from the doorway as Clint showed her little brother how to tie a tie. Emotions whirled through her. She hated that their father wasn’t the one having these little moments with Asher. However, she was in deep with Clint as he didn’t just tolerate Asher, but went out of his way to care and love the young boy. Y/N didn’t know how it had snuck up on her but in the last three months, she had fallen in love with the dorky blonde football player who she swore she wasn’t going to give the time of day. She shut the door to the bathroom and pulled on her gown.

When she opened the door, the two boys were taking selfies in the floor-length mirror. They turned to look at her and both their eyes widened. Asher was the first to speak, “You look so pretty, Y/N.”

She grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek, “And you look so handsome. I’ve got two good-looking dates tonight.” Clint was still staring and moved closer, swooping in for a kiss. Y/N could have cried with laughter at how affronted he looked when helping up a hand to stop him, “I’m wearing lipstick.”

“I don’t care,” he kissed her until she was breathless.

The happiness and ease that they felt in her bedroom were dashed as soon as they walked down the stairs and were enveloped by the party. Y/N was trying to keep her composure as her father used Asher as a performing seal. Clint’s hand gripped her tightly, trying to keep her calm, but she was dying inside as she watched her little brother try to make their sperm donor proud. It was late into the night at this point and she could see that the young boy was struggling to keep his eyes open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer and wiggled her hand out of Clint’s. “Gorgeous…”

“I’ll be okay. Go see Tony and Pepper.” She made her way over and smiled charmingly at the guests, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but it’s gotten very late. Dad, it is way past Asher’s bedtime.

He waved his eldest child away, “Oh it’s fine, he’s having a good time.”

“He actually has a playdate tomorrow and needs to be rested. So, he should really start his bedtime routine.

Her father’s eyes hardened, “I’m the parent and I’ve decided he’s okay to stay up a little while longer.” She scoffed and her father tried to shoot her a look. Asher started to well up at the tension and Y/N pulled him into her arms. They walked away from the group and she shot her father a glare as he followed them, “He should’ve been in bed over two hours ago. Don’t claim to be his parent when you haven’t done a damn thing. I’m the only mother he’s ever known. I’m the only parent he’s known in the past 6 years.”

“Not right now. This is not behavior for in front of guests. Why don’t we step into the study for this discussion.” He was gripping her arm and that’s what brought Clint back over to their side.

Y/N quickly passed the half-asleep Asher to him, “Would you mind taking him just for a few moments. I’ll be there soon, but I need to have a quick word with my father.”

Clint gripped her waist tight, “Are you okay?”

“No, but I need to be,” she kissed both of their cheeks, “I’ll be up soon. He’s going to need a bath since he’s covered in frosting.”

Y/N didn’t look back even though she felt Clint’s gaze on her as she walked away. The minute the door shut her father exploded, “How dare you! You don’t behave like that when we have guests over. It isn’t proper.”

“Screw proper behavior! I’ve been proper every day for nearly my whole life. Ever since mom got sick. You haven’t been around to try and now you claim that Asher is the product of anything you’ve done. That kid is amazing because he’s done everything without you. I did the midnight feeds and diaper changings. I’m the one that went to the library and checked out parenting books. When he fell off his bike, I helped him up, cleaned his cuts, and told him to try again and not to give up. I’ve done his back-to-school shopping, got his Halloween costumes every year. I helped him with his homework and I got a car so that someone could be there to pick him up every damn day. I’ve been to every concert and sports game. You don’t get to suddenly reappear randomly and use us as a pretty family in front of your friends and investors. You just a sperm donor.”

“I think you forget your place, young lady.”

“Ha. Don’t try to parent me. You’re not a parent!” Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to get herself under control, “If you were, you’d know the bare minimum isn’t good enough. Money isn’t enough. Your children deserve love and support. Asher deserves someone who shows up and that’s not you. Never again will you be allowed to use him for your business. I will make sure that he has a sleepover or appointment to take up his every hour when you’re in town. You are a stranger that happens to live under the same roof as us a couple nights a year. We’ve just been along for the ride. You’ve missed every birthday party and every Christmas morning for too many years. That’s over 20 birthdays so far. That’s 6 years of Christmas shopping I’ve done alone. That’s decorating Christmas trees without you. That’s late nights making birthday cakes. That’s the first steps, award ceremonies, and graduations. That kid is my life and I am his. You haven’t been around. Do you know how many nights I spent with him and he would ask why you weren’t there? Eventually, he just gave up hope. I’m glad your business is thriving but in the process of making this all happen, you forget something so much more important. You forgot your kids. Well, guess what, I never forgot. Not for a second. I’ve missed so much of my life for Asher and I won’t regret a second of it. He’s not your kid. He’s mine. And if you excuse me, I need to put him to bed.” She left the study, head held high, and headed straight for Asher’s room.

When she didn’t find them there, she hurried into her room and found Clint reading a book, with the six-year-old conked out on his shoulder. Y/N decided to take a moment and walked down the hallway and sat on the window seat, listening to the party still raging below. She rested her head on the window, feeling the cool January chill on her forehead. Silent tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks. She heard a throat clear and turned to see Clint standing a few feet away. He didn’t say anything, instead, he just let her curl up against him. He picked her up, carrying her to her room. He knelt down and slipped her heels off. Her breathing was shallow, as the argument played over and over in her mind. He pulled the dress down her shoulders and replaced it with one of his shirts that she’d claimed. He toed his shoes off and climbed into bed, pulling her down. They one curled around Asher and Clint looked at her, “You don’t need to talk tonight. You don’t even need to talk tomorrow. Just know that when we do have this conversation, it won’t scare me away. I’m in this for the long haul, whatever that means. I love you.”

It wasn't perfect, at that moment it wasn't even good, but the ball had dropped and it was January 1st. A new year and Y/N was going to make sure that life was better than ever before.

********************************

@be-patient-be-good

@spntiel

@mycosmicparadise

@itsnottilly

[dadolorian]

Diamonds and Daddies Ch 2 Whiskey X F!Reader

A/N: Thank you again to @oloreaa​ for being my Beta reader despite not liking this Yeehonk bitch XD  And thanks to @talesfromtheguild​ for the name idea and letting me bounce ideas for this story in general off of you

Fandom: Kingsman the golden circle Ship: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Cis F!reader Warning/tags: Kink and consent discussion, Possessive (consensual) language, spanking, slight choking, Daddy kink/ DD/LG/BDSM style relationship, aftercare, fingering, P/V (protected) sex, dirty talk,  reaffirming consent/ checking in with safe word, Jack being possessive/controlling but has readers enthusiastic consent on it. 

Word count: 6K + 

AO3 LINK - coming soon

Summary: Whiskey tries Tinder, and when that doesn’t work discovers a Sugar Baby app that has him most intrigued. Jack gives his Babygirl her first punishment. 

Soft light filtered through sheer curtains, you stretched out lazily, feeling your joints pop and click. Idly, your foggy brain wondered just when your bed became this big and soft. 

You fought to drift back off to sleep as memories of last night slowly came back to you, 

          Cracking an eye open to confirm that yes, you had gone home with the sexy Daddy who wined and dined you last night. You couldn’t contain the smile on your face as you remembered everything that had happened, the slight ache between your legs reminding you of the best part. 

You turned over to snuggle up to your cowboy Daddy, only to find he wasn’t there. You sat up, disappointed and confused, looking around the expansive room for him,  reaching to his side you deduced he had been gone only a short while by the lukewarm heat left on the sheets, you listened carefully, trying to figure out just where he was. 

There was muffled shuffling outside of the room, coming from downstairs, and the delicious smell that was wafting into the room made your stomach growl.

You slid out of the covers to go explore, picking up Jack’s discarded dress shirt off the floor and throwing it on before heading off in search of him.  As you left the bedroom you heard him softly humming, a familiar country tune you couldn’t quite place. Softly padding your way down the stairs there you found him, in his open kitchen, wearing a stetson, jeans and nothing else. His back was facing you, you watched the muscles there ripple as he poured batter into the waffle iron beside him, cursing when hot batter splashed back onto his bare stomach. “Careful Daddy,” you teased, as you leaned against an island counter, making him jump slightly. 

He turned to face you with a soft smile, wiping the batter off of his front with a rag. 

“Morning Honey Bee. Did I wake you?” he asked, rounding the island to give you a gentle kiss.

You hummed at the name, it was the same one you had used on the Sugar baby App, which you still needed to delete for him. 

“Not at all, Cowboy,” you teased, flicking his stetson playfully. 

“I was hoping to give you breakfast in bed,” he drawled, playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing absentmindedly. His other hand went to the small of your back, gently holding you to his front as he rocked the two of you slowly, dancing in place to music that wasn’t there. 

“Seems that plans out the window now, you hungry?” 

You nodded your head. “Starving. I worked up quite an appetite last night,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him and resting your chin on his soft front, looking up at him with a giddy smile. 

He chuckled,and bent forward to place a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“That you did, I guess riding takes a lot out of you huh?” he teased with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes at the joke, but your smile confirmed to him you liked it either way.

              He was content holding you just like that, swaying gently together as if you were the only two people in existence, the only thing pulling him away from your embrace was the smell of burning batter.

“Shit, shit!” he cursed, untangling himself from your arms, trying to save what he could of the breakfast. “Damn!”

He unplugged the iron and wafted away the faint smoke with his stetson, trying to thin it out enough to avoid the smoke alarm going off. 

“Sorry, Darlin, I was trying to be all romantic and make you breakfast,” he coughed, scraping burnt batter out of the machine. “But it seems my cooking skills ain't up to par.”

“I’m just flattered that you went through the effort for me,” you smiled, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around him again, kissing his bare shoulder blades. 

“Of course, gotta take care of my girl,” he moved the waffle iron to the side and cleaned up the mess on the bench.

“How bout we just order something Darl? Since i’ve made such a mess of this?” He suggested, turning in your embrace and resting his large hands on your hips. 

“Sounds delightful” you hummed, standing on your tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss. 

“Here,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and passing it to you.

“You open that ‘uber’ app and pick whatever you’re fancying Princess.” 

You took the phone and browsed through the app as he cleaned up what he could, deciding on the safe bet of waffle house, since Jack had seemed so insistent on making them for you to begin with. 

With the food ordered and on its way, you relaxed on the couch, waiting for him to finish cleaning up. You lay on your stomach, making sure his shirt was only just covering your ass as you flipped through a TV magazine he had laying around.

The rummaging in the kitchen eventually grew silent, shortly followed by warm fingers gently caressing up the back of your thigh to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. 

You hummed, pleased as you felt his weight join you, blanketing himself over you carefully, making sure he didn’t crush you. 

You giggled as you felt his mustache tickle your neck, where he peppered many hot kisses across your skin. 

“D-Daddy,” you giggled, wiggling in his grasp as he continued to tickle you with his facial hair. “Food will be here soon.” 

He growled, not too pleased at the idea of having to cut his playtime short before it had even had a chance to get started. 

“You’re right, Baby, we’ll have to have some fun later,” he sighed, burying his face into your neck for soft snuggles rather than the heated kisses, a change you had no complaint about either way.  “Don’t need to get all worked up before heading to the lobby. Might give a poor delivery driver a heart attack if I answer the door full mast,” he snickered into your neck. 

You rolled your eyes again at his immature humor but you were once more unable to keep your own smile off of your face. 

“We can play after breakfast though. Right Daddy?” You asked, running your foot over this strong calves teasingly.

“Mmhhhh, of course Baby, “ he said, placing another kiss on your neck. “You only have to ask and Daddy will play with you whenever you want. Unless you’re being a brat for me.” 

You hummed in appreciation at the implication.  Past Daddies had never been very...successful at the whole punishment and reward aspect of your usual relationship dynamic. Your string of bad luck when it came to your relationships didn’t just translate to the relationships with your Daddies failing, but also to how skilled they were with mixing the punishments and pleasures you hungered for. You had never been left completely satisfied in a relationship before. 

But, since meeting him, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that Jack’s ability to take care of you, to punish and pleasure you in the way you had been craving for years, would finally scratch that itch. To satisfy your hunger. You weren’t just a sugar Baby for the money after all. 

“I’ll be good for you,” you teased, breathlessly lifting your ass up into his hips, causing him to groan. 

“Teasing's not what a good girl does, Honey Bee,” he warned, using your moniker again. It was like he was reminding you of your place, something that should have been a red flag in any other type of relationship, but with Jack, it only served to turn you on more. 

“What happened to not answering the door at full mast?” You continued to tease. 

“Half mast...different story,” Jack joked, snatching his phone up with one hand to check on the progress of the food. 

“It’s on its way,” he hummed, getting up off of you carefully, gently patting your ass as he straightened up. “Should probably go put a shirt on then.” 

“Awww,” you pouted, flipping over to watch him walk over to the stairs.

“I’ll take my shirt back off when I get back with the food baby, but only if you take yours off first, Honey Bee,” he winked playfully at you before heading upstairs.

He returned from his room, now wearing a plain white T-shirt which showed off his biceps deliciously, and some fancy looking cowboy boots to complete his casual country look.  “I’ll be back with the food in just a minute Darlin,” he said, coming over to you and giving you a slow, deep kiss. “Be good.” 

You batted your eyelashes up at him, playing innocent as he took off, grabbing his keys and leaving you alone in his apartment. 

Bored without his attention and curious about him, you took the opportunity alone to explore. You hopped up off the couch and started to inspect his apartment. Upstairs you found an additional two bedrooms and bathroom , they were of little interest to you outside of their stunning views of the city, the interesting parts of his apartment were all downstairs, you discovered.  A private gym, a balcony with views of central park and his own pool! You were half tempted to jump in and wait for him to return but you didn’t want to get in trouble with him, at least not yet.  You headed back inside and were about to inspect the last room of the house when you spied through the glass door a heavy wooden desk and laptop sitting on top of it, it was his office. Remembering his warning, you loosened your grip on the handle, backing away slowly. 

“What did I tell you bout my office, Babygirl?” his deep baritone startled you, you hadn’t heard him return.    He stood in the open lounge behind you, one hand on his hip, the other holding the takeout boxes, quirking an eyebrow at you questioningly.  His question was a clear warning to you. 

“You said I can't go in there, and I remembered!” You explained as you turned to face him fully. “I didn’t go in, I stopped as soon as I realized it was your office Daddy, I promise.”

 He regarded you for a moment, searching your eyes. He believed you it seemed. “Good,” he purred, putting the boxes on the coffee table. He grabbed two plates and cutlery from the adjacent kitchen and returned to flop onto the couch with as much grace a man his age could muster.

 “Come here Baby,” Jack beckoned you with his finger, before he sat down and toed off his boots, kicking them underneath the coffee table. 

He held out his arm in invitation of a cuddle which you happily accepted, tucking your knees under yourself as you curled up to his side. He gave you a tender kiss to your forehead then served up the food onto the plates. 

“There you go, Baby,” he smiled, handing you a plate. “Wish i could have made it myself, but this will have to do for now. One day I'll make you a romantic breakfast in bed.” 

“I like that idea Daddy,” you hummed, digging into your food quite happily. “But i’m certainly not complaining about this either.”

You both sat, lazily cuddling as you ate your breakfast together, not in any particular rush to get on with the rest of the day. You finished first, putting your plate on the coffee table in front of you while you waited for him. “You might finish it quicker if you let go of me Daddy,” you teased, causing him to cock an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you had just grown two heads. “Now why would I want to do that, Babygirl?” He asked, the arm around you squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh. 

“I wasn’t complaining Daddy, I just thought it might have been easier.”

“I know Baby,” he kissed your cheek. “But i much prefer this.” When he had finally finished his food he stacked his plate on top of yours, picked up a blank notepad off the glass top then pulled you up onto his lap. 

“Now, Baby,” he murmured, playing with the top button of the shirt you were wearing, his shirt. 

“What do you say we get that little ‘contract’ sorted? Should be something we get out of the way before we have anymore fun together, don’cha think? I don't want to overstep any boundaries with you.” You nodded in agreement, looping your arms around his neck as he began writing. 

You found it really cute the way his brow would furrow as he wrote, trying his best to balance the notepad between the two of you and not get distracted by your close proximity. When he was done, he re-read the whole page, giving it a nod of approval before flipping it for you to read. 

You made sure to read it properly, to make sure everything was covered. It was a detailed list of all the rules you had both agreed to the previous night, with the important ones underlined for emphasis, safeword, exclusivity, communication. You smiled, giving him your approval. He then flipped to another page, writing down a list, you tried your best to read it upside down, curious as to what else he could be writing. Figuring out a few of the words you realized he was writing a list of kinks. 

He gave it another once over before showing you. 

“Like I said Princess, I don’t want to cross any boundaries with you, I need to know beforehand if you’ll be just as enthusiastic for these as I am,” he said, rubbing your thigh as you took the list and read it. “It's all fun and games talking punishment and rewards until I get to it and find out you don’t like what I'm doing to ya.” 

You took the pen from his hand, crossing out the hard no’s, leaving only your favorites on his expansive list.

Over stimulation Choking Bondage/restraints Throat fucking Spanking Slapping Riding crop Public sex Collars Toys- Plugs, vibrators, Dildos- others Orgasm denial Cock warming Roleplay - costumes Rough sex Ice Candle wax Degradation/name calling  Fisting Anal Spitting

“Perfect” you purred, handing it back to him so he could confirm what you had approved off. He grinned widely as he read it, his eyes growing dark from lust. You were just the same, already feeling the familiar sensation of your arousal pooling.

“Hooo, Honey Bee,” he growled contentedly, reading your amendments. “You left all my favorites on here.” He tossed the notepad onto a side table, discarding it and leaving his full attention on you. “Now keep in mind, those kinks are just for punishments and rewards...We can add more if we want to later, and we can explore other kinks any other time...I just need to know what you want when Daddy punishes you.” You nodded, agreeing with his words. You were exceptionally grateful at just how serious he was taking his role and control over you, making sure you would be comfortable and feel safe with everything he wanted to do with you, confirming to both of you he had your enthusiastic consent for some of the more...extreme elements of your growing relationship. 

“Mind answering a question for me, Darlin?” He asked, gently undoing the top button of your shirt.

“Of course not Daddy, ask away.”

“Got any toys at home?” His hands continued popping buttons of the shirt you were wearing, his voice was curious, with that hungry growl still hidden beneath it.

“Y-yes, i have toys,” you admitted truthfully.

“Get rid of them,” he ordered firmly, staring at your chest as his calloused hand slipped underneath your now unbuttoned shirt, pushing the shirt off of your shoulders, exposing you to him.

“B-but Daddy, they were expensive,” you whined, gripping his shoulders as his large, rough hands moved to cup your breasts.

He dragged his gaze away from your tits to look you in the eyes.

“What was that? You answering back to me already, baby?” He growled, giving your breasts a harsh squeeze in warning, making you gasp. “Your pleasure belongs to me now, remember? I decide when you get to feel good…And no toy is going to do my job for you.” He began rolling your nipples in his fingers, causing your head to fall back in pleasure. He gave you a growl in warning, a wordless command of eyes on me, and you dragged your gaze back to him, whimpering at his touches. You had started to get wet as you read his Kink list, just the idea of exploring them had started to work you up, but now, with his deft fingers and possessive words, you feel yourself getting wetter. 

“When you get home, you’re going to throw all those toys you have in the trash,” he squeezed your breasts together, still toying with your nipples. “Then you’re going to send Daddy a photo to prove it….And then, when i think you’ve earned it, we’re going shopping for some new, special toys we get to use together. For when you’ve been a good girl for Daddy…or a Bad girl.”

You bit your lip to hide the whimper at the implications, unsuccessfully. Once again he was proving just how capable he was at his Daddy role for you. He chuckled at how helpless you sounded, dragging one of his hands down your front to slip between your legs, fingers quickly becoming covered in your slick. “You’re very naughty baby, forgetting to put your panties on this morning...Only bad girls go about with no underwear,” he teased, pushing one, long finger inside you slowly. “B-But...You weren't wearing underwear last night!” You gasped, opening your legs wider to give him better access. The hand still on your tit squeezed harder. 

“Answering back again?” he growled, shoving another finger inside of you. His other hand let go of your breast and looped around you, pulling you tight up against his front, holding you in place so he could attack your neck with his mouth.  He kissed and licked, running his teeth over the sensitive skin there before growling right into your ear.  “Don’t you dare go around thinking that you can answer back to me, Honey Bee, or that what Daddy says don’t matter.” 

Your moniker, again, reminding you just what you were to him, what he was to you.

One simple name you had heard many times before, but coming from his mouth, his husky voice, it held so much power and control over you. 

The two fingers inside you pushed in as deep as they could go, curling back and forth to tease at your sweet spot. You tried to wiggle in his grasp, either to get away from the stimulation or get closer, you weren’t sure, but his grip on you held fast.

“If I say something makes you a bad girl, then you best listen...Don’t matter if Daddy does it too, you do as I say, not as I do...You’re not a big enough girl to behave like that…” he teased you, gently curling his fingers one minute then thrusting his hand into you harshly the next, fingering you as fast as he could in the position. “Thought you wanted to be my good girl?” he rasped, chuckling darkly when you began writhing in his hold, whining and arching your back, holding onto him for dear life, your manicured nails digging into his biceps as the obscene wet slaps of his hand thrusting into you joined your whines. 

His words and deft fingers had brought you quicker to the edge than you had ever been in your life. Something about the way he became so possessive and controlling over you turned you on so easily, you felt your core tighten up and more arousal seep down your thighs. 

Gripping his shoulders you whimpered out a warning that you were going to cum. He sped his hand up, thumb rubbing quick circles into your clit for one teasing moment, and right before you flew over the edge, he pulled his fingers free from you. “W-wha?” you asked befuddled, straightening back up to look at him. “Daddy why?” 

He stood up, tossing you onto the couch on your back before bringing his fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tasted your essence still coating them. “I’ll tell you why, Baby,” he said, pulling his fingers free and licking his lips as if he had just eaten the finest dessert. “You talked back to Daddy,” he leant over top of you so his nose brushed yours. “And then I find out you’re being a filthy little girl by not wearing panties…” He slapped your thigh hard enough to sting. “And then you had the gall to talk back to me, again.” 

He shoved his mouth against yours for a deep, domineering kiss. It was bruising. You could taste the faint flavor of the syrup from the waffles you shared, combined with your own juices, on his tongue. He cupped your jaw to deepen the kiss, then pulling away only when you had become lost to the sensation, driving you insane once again by denying you just as it got really heated. “Now, we’re both new to this...It’s going to take a while for us both to learn all the rules,” he said, straightening up and pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, forgotten. He was back on you, kneeling between your legs before you could even admire his soft tummy again.  “But if I let this one slide, Baby, I fear you won’t learn the rules...If I let you get away with answering back to me, and being filthy now...Well you won’t learn your lesson, will ya?”

One hand slid back between your legs, ghosting over your soaked folds teasingly. You whimpered again, listing your hips for more contact, batting your eyes up at him in hopes to soften him up 

“But since this is a first offence,” Jack chuckled, gently pinching your clit between two fingers, “I’ll go easy on you. But don’t think those pretty eyes will work on me all the time, baby.” 

“Daddy” you whined, feeling completely helpless underneath him and loving it. “Hmmm? Now what do we think is an appropriate punishment for a first time offence?” He asked, pushing one finger back inside you, thrusting it in and out agonizingly slowly while his thumb circled your clit with feather light passes. Touching you and filling you up, but not enough to satisfy the burning need in you. He watched intently as you tried to seek out more stimulation, raising your hips up into his hand, but he put a stop to that quickly, holding your hips down with his free hand.  “Stay still,” he growled. “You take what I give you, Honey bee, don’t be greedy.”  He watched you with his head cocked, as he decided on your punishment.  “I think we’ll keep it simple,” he continued. “A spanking seems appropriate...Don’t you agree?”

Jack paused, and you realized he was waiting for a response, an approval and consent over his chosen punishment.  “Y-yes...a spanking seems fair Daddy,” you pouted, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Good” he rumbled, scooping you up and gently laying you across his lap. You could feel his erection pressed up against your belly.

You wanted it inside you, but you knew you had to earn it. One of his arms looped around your middle, keeping you still while the other was gently massaging your ass and rubbing your pussy. “Listen up, Girl,” he said, voice firm. “You are to say “red” if this gets too much, you understand?” he asked, waiting for your verbal affirmation before continuing. “Good, after each spank, I want you to say ‘I will not talk back to Daddy’. Can you repeat that for me?” “I- I will not talk back to Daddy,” you moaned, wiggling your hips to get more friction up against your pussy. “Good,” he praised again, rewarding you with more friction just where you wanted it, his palm rubbing up and down over your folds. 

“You’re going to get ten spanks...And then Daddy's going to give you a reward afterwards, if you’re good for me.”

You nodded, letting him know you understood. “I want you to count them out too,” was his final instruction as he raised his hand, bringing it back down against your ass with a hard SLAP! “O-one!” You yelped. “I will not talk back to Daddy!” He hummed in approval, you felt his erection brush up against your stomach again, twitching in the confines of his pants. SLAP! “Two!” I will now talk back to Daddy!” 

It continued, you tried your hardest to keep still with each slap, to stop rubbing your thighs together, but each slap only seemed to make you wetter, to make you want him more. Slap after slap after slap, you remained his good little girl. “T-Ten! I- I will not talk back to Daddy!”  you cried, tears from the pain running down your face. You were left sore and sensitive, but despite the pain you felt burning pleasure fill your whole body. Jack really was living up to your dream expectations as your Daddy, you were reminded one again just how perfect he was for you.

He proved himself more with how he treated you after a punishment.  

His hand began massaging your ass again, soothing the sting. Jack nuzzled the side of your face affectionately as he stroked the hand shaped welts forming on your ass gently. 

“Whats your color, Babygirl?” he asked softly, kissing your cheek. 

“G-green,” you panted, calming your breath and racing heart down. “Good, good,” he praised, carefully helping you stand on your feet, back facing him. Your legs felt like jelly, you were ready to collapse but his hands on your waist kept you standing. “You took your punishment so well, baby, Daddy is so proud of you!” He kissed the growing welts, praising you. “What a good girl you are, taking Daddys punishment. And look at this,” one of his hands pushed between your legs, coating his fingers once again in your arousal. “You’re even wetter than before...I’m not sure it's much of a punishment if you liked it that much, but a promise is a promise, you took your punishment and behaved...My little girl deserves her reward now, don’t you think?” You moaned and nodded, pushing back against his hand despite how sore you were. “Hmmmm, and I know you’re sore baby, but damn if you didn’t make Daddy as hard as a fucking rock through out all of that. Think you’ll be able to take my cock?” 

He chuckled when you nodded eagerly. 

“Course you can, you’re fucking soaked.” He stood up and gently laid you down on your stomach on the couch. You watched over your shoulder as he pulled a condom out of his pocket and began unbuckling his belt, shoving his pants down his hips. 

Once again, he wasn’t wearing underwear, the hypocrite, but you held your tongue. 

Daddy had just taught you a lesson about answering back, you weren't willing to give up your reward after all that delicious torture. “You’re ass looks fucking gorgeous covered in my hand prints,” he rasped, kicking his pants away and ripping the packet open with his teeth.  “I just want to stare at those pretty welts as I fuck you with my cock, might get a little sore again, baby...Tell me to stop and I will.” 

You nodded, letting him know you understood as he positioned himself behind you, he rolled the condom on, briefly wiping up the precum that had gathered at his tip onto his hand, he held his fingers to your mouth for you to taste. 

He groaned as you swirled your tongue around them, coating his fingers in your saliva and tasting the proof of his arousal. With the condom in place, Jack held himself at his base, rubbing his tip up against your soaked folds, back and forth. “Tell me you’ll be a good girl for me from now on,” he teased, you could hear that arrogant smile in his voice. You whined, frustrated he was holding your reward over your head so to speak. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Daddy...I won't answer back like that again!” you moaned into one of the throw pillows on the couch, holding it against your chest and face, anchoring yourself to something as you tried not to scream from frustration at his teasing. “Yeah? You’ll be a good girl and listen to Daddy too? Keeping still when I tell you to? Not arguing if I deem your behavior naughty?” 

At this point you were sure he was just trying to torture you further. “Yes! Yes Daddy! Please! I swear I'll be good, just please!” you begged. “I’ve been a good girl! Please, I just want your cock!” You didn’t care how pathetic or desperate you sounded as you begged him to fill you, he had manhandled you and spanked you deliciously, in a way no Daddy ever had before and if this was just a ‘mild’ punishment, it excited you further to think how he would handle something more extreme in the future. 

You had never been more aroused in your entire life. 

“Good girls don’t speak like that” he warned, you feared another punishment when you were this close to your pleasure that you actually sobbed into the pillow. “But I'll forgive you, you have been a good girl for me, taking your punishment so well....” he trailed off, distracted by the sight of his aching tip poking at your folds that were framed by his growing marks. He was so close to just...pushing in. It was agonizing having him so close to filling you up and you let him know. Pleading and sobbing harder into the pillow. Taking mercy on you, he pushed forward excruciatingly slow, making you sob in relief, satisfying your burning need, if only for a moment.   “You’re just so desperate for Daddy’s cock,” he rasped, enraptured by his effect on you. 

You moaned and continued sobbing into the pillow, overwhelmed to be finally filled with him. 

His guttural moan joined yours as he bottomed out, sinfully loud.The stretch of his was slightly painful, given he did not take the time to prepare you as carefully as he did the night before. But the way he split you open, was divine. He wasn’t wrong in saying you were desperate for his cock,  and who could blame you when he filled you up so good?

“Jesus, fuck, I don’t think I ever been inside a hole this wet before, Baby,” he grated, rocking his hips into you slowly.  “I can feel it, coating down our legs...Didn’t realize you were such a whore for punishment and Daddy's cock.”  It sounded like an insult, but the wicked grin you heard in his voice told you otherwise. He was delighted at the discovery of just how needy he could make you. 

You were about to comment back when he slowly pulled out of you and then thrust back in, hard, making you scream at the devastating pleasure of him stretching and filling you and the deliciously painful sensation of his hips slapping up against your sore ass. 

Jack chuckled again, beginning a steady, fast and deep pace thrusting into you. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up enough so your face wasn’t buried in the throw pillow. “I want to hear your screams, baby,” he snarled, punctuating his sentence with a devastatingly harsh thrust.  He laughed at you, mockingly, as you screamed again. 

“Fuck, I love hearing your noises, baby, you sound so hot, makes Daddy even harder.”  You felt him twitch inside you as he said it, making you whimper. 

You had no words left, only able to focus on the way he filled you up and rammed against your deepest spot. The burning sting of your ass each time his hips met yours drove you wild. He moaned and growled in approval at the noises you were making, but you were so lost that you weren't even aware you were making them or what you were saying. He rambled on behind you, his raspy voice praising how tight you were, how good you felt around him. You could barely focus on his words.

“Rub your clit baby,” he ordered, the hand not gripping your neck rubbing your ass as he admired your marks. “Daddy wants you to cum on his cock...You’ve earned it” 

You did as you were told, reaching beneath you to rub yourself with a trembling arm. You could feel his balls slap against your fingers with earth thrust. And he was right, you were soaked, your fingers were able to glide smoothly over your bud, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body like electricity.  You felt your core clamping down on him instantly, making him moan. 

“Fuck, just when I think you can’t get any tighter,” he rumbled. “You’re close, aren't cha Honey Bee? I can feel it,you’re such a perfect little cock whore for me, come on..cum for Daddy, fucking soak me even more.” You whimpered, rubbing your clit faster at his words.

“Cum for Daddy, right fucking now!” You obeyed, you felt like you were being hit by a freight train. 

His teasing and leaving you right as you reached your peak earlier, mixed with the unbearable arousal he had caused with his spanking and dirty words resulted in the most powerful orgasm you had ever felt in your entire life. You felt the wind being knocked out of you as your core clamped down around him almost painfully and milk him for all he was worth.  Your entire body contorted with pleasure, your legs shook violently as you tried to cling to anything to ride out the powerful waves.            You heard him curse behind you, slamming into you harder, painfully so given how tender your ass was but it only added to the pleasure.  He growled out his release, gripping your neck harder.  “Jesus fuck baby that’s it! Yes! Yes! Fuuuucccck!”  His desperate bucking as he chased his own pleasure as you milked him dry simply intensified your orgasm, leaving you a breathless, panting, sweaty mess as your body shook and came down from your high.  “Perfect fucking pussy.”

Even when you were done, as you began winding down from your high, every slight movement of him behind you made your walls flutter more, making you whimper from the over stimulation. 

He groaned deeply behind you as he pulled out, cooing gently at you as you whined. “There we go baby, shhhh now,” came Jack's soothing words. 

You melted into the couch, feeling like a heap of boneless jelly as your eyes started to rift close. He got up off the couch and you heard him walk to the kitchen, disposing of his condom you assumed, you were too tired to even care. You were surprised when he came back and rolled you over gently, picking you up bridal style. You let you a whimper of pain and confusion. “Shhh baby, Daddy’s just taking care of you,” he consoled, kissing the crown of your head. “Rest, let me do all the work.” He carried you upstairs, to his room, gently putting you back on ‘your’ side.

You closed your eyes, ready to drift off as you heard him rummage about in his ensuite. He came back, and you felt him gently begin cleaning you up with another warm washcloth. “Look at my baby...so beautiful,” he murmured tenderly, wiping up and down your thighs, throwing the wash cloth to the side to clean up later once your slick had been cleaned up. “You did so well, took Daddy's punishment and cock so well...What a lucky man I am.” He continued to praise you as he gently rolled you onto your front. You whimpered, your body aching and protesting but you let him manhandle you more. You heard something else rustle, then a zipper. There was a pop of a cap followed by the soothing sensation of his hands rubbing cream into your abused skin.           You whined, the cream too cold for your burning skin but he soothed you with gentle kisses peppered along your shoulder blades. “Let Daddy take care of you, it will be done soon,” he promised. With your welts thoroughly coated you sighed in content, already feeling the stinging sensation start to fade away. “There we go,” he praised, packing up what you now knew to be the first aid kit. He went to put it away and wash his hands before he returned. He moved to lay next to you, fidgeting a bit, wanting to pull you up against him but not willing to agitate your sore ass. He contented himself by laying on his side,  watching you as one hand resting on your back, stroking it affectionately and limbs intertwined  with yours. He kissed everywhere he could reach, just as he had last night, he spoke to you gently, letting you focus on his words rather than on how sore you were. “Rest Baby, when you wake up, we’ll have a lot of work to do,” he hummed. “Gonna get'cha all cleaned up, put a nice meal in your belly, make sure you’re all taken care of.” You snuggled deeper into the plush pillow you were laying on, a smile forming on your lips at his soft promises. “Then Daddy's going to have to get ya home, gonna need to get your allowance sorted, and see you get your appointment for your implant...Daddy wants you without a condom as soon as possible.” he teased, his fingers dancing on your back gently, making the flesh jump.

You whined at the ticklish sensation and he chuckled. “Go to sleep baby, i’ll be here when you wake up this time,” he murmured the promise into your ear as you finally drifted off. 

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Taglist: 

@thats-one-tender-foot​  @luminescentlily​ @nuttybeardetective​ @ishqinbbc​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @calamity-queen​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @talesfromtheguild​

[nightshade-minho]

-The Ritual-

-Incubus!Minho + BestFriend!Jeongin x fem!Reader-

Warnings: themes of jealousy, occults and demons, unprotected sex, minho has a huge cock, face fucking, sir kink, cunnilingus, 69, anal penetration, creampie, a little cumplay, a little overstimulation, a lil finger blood for ze ritual~ etc.

Word Count: 5.2k (I got a little carried away...this is the smuttiest thing I’ve written in a while hhhhhh-)

Disclaimer: This scene is entirely consensual. Minho’s powers do have the ability to make you incredibly aroused, but it can’t force you to do anything against your wishes. 

"Have you got everything?" You whispered, making the boy next to you jump in shock.

"Y/n! For God's sake, you scared the fuck out of me-"

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes at Jeongin, who went back to perusing the library shelf with a small huff. 

"Did you get everything?" You repeated insistently, following as Jeongin moved away from you, walking over to another shelf. He glared at you, sighing.

"Did you-"

"Shut up!" He scowled, looking away from you to grab another book from the shelf. 

A few seconds of prolonged silence passed as Jeongin turned to look at you, sighing when he saw your bottom lip quivering.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled.

"Y/n- no, it's okay. Next time, don't sneak up on me like that..." he sighed. "I've just got so much work on my plate. It's so frustrating...and I took that frustration out on you. Sorry."

You pressed your lips together, nodding and looking away. He sighed, moving a little closer, hand hovering over your shoulder before hesitantly coming down.

"I'll come over at 10, okay? We'll do this." He said, trying to feign enthusiasm. You shoved his hand off your shoulder, shaking your head. 

"I know you're not as into this as I am. I just thought...as my best friend, you'd want to do something fun with me. But if you'd much rather spend the night with your nose buried in a textbook, I won't stop you."

Jeongin smiled, that wide smile of his that affected you in a way you couldn't quite describe.

"Summoning a demon in your college dorm at midnight isn't exactly what the average individual would call fun, Y/N."

"You've always known I'm not the average individual." You winked. "Right...I'm going to let you study now. See you tonight! Don't forget-"

"Candles, rose petals and wine. Got it."

You grinned, waving as you walked away, a slight bounce in your step. Jeongin watched as you left, fondly shaking his head as he turned back to the shelf.

***

As the doorbell rang, you jumped off your bed and rushed to the door, opening it with a wide smile. "Jeonginnieee!~ Did you bring snacks?"

He nodded, struggling with the amount of packages he was holding. "Yes, along with the things for the ritual- shit, can I have some help here?"

You giggled, grabbing the plastic bag and one of the packages from his hand. You stared at the wine bottle in his hand pointedly.

"One of my friends got this for me. Don't ask who. It's a super cheap brand and I think it's half drunk already but-"

"It'll do." You interrupted, smiling as you suddenly pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Jeongin's grip on the bottle tightened as his brain filled with sparks- the contact of your lips against his skin sending electricity shooting through his chest.

"You're the best best friend I could ask for. Thank you for getting everything."

Jeongin nodded nonchalantly, scratching his neck as he set the bottle and another package on the counter.

"Hey, the ritual needs to take place at midnight. We have like, 2 hours till then. Wanna watch a movie or something?"

"Why else do you think I brought snacks?" He laughed, opening the plastic bag and throwing a large packet of chips to you, that you caught with ease. Grabbing two cans of soda and a bag of candy, the two of you made your way to the couch. 

"Let's watch a horror movie? To get us in the spirit?"

"Sure." Jeongin commented, ripping open the packet as he sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. You smiled, popping a CD into the DVD player and crawling back over to Jeongin, cuddling close to him.

Jeongin gulped as you wrapped your arms around him. Your proximity was making him sweat, and he discreetly wiped away a drop of perspiration from his forehead. Over the years, you'd think that he would get used to your touchiness...but he just never did.

Nearly an hour later, you fell asleep halfway through the movie. Jeongin sighed, patting your hair as you slept, watching the rest of the horrid movie by himself. When a particularly silly scene came on screen, he wished you were awake so he could criticize it with you. His eyes drifted to the clock, eyes widening as he realized the time.

He poked your shoulder insistently. "Fuck, Y/n, get up...the ritual needs to take place soon, and we haven't set everything up yet-"

You blinked slowly, looking at him in confusion. "Hmm? Oh-"

You pushed him away, jumping up to your feet. "Shit, let's get the things ready, quick-" 

He sighed, standing up slowly as you ran to the packages on the counter, unwrapping everything. He watched as you jumped around in your hurry, chuckling to himself. 

Man, she's really into this.

Jeongin thought about it for a few seconds, sighing as he decided to show a little more enthusiasm...after all, you were his best friend...you always listened so patiently whenever he talked about his interests. 

He made up his mind. He'd put a little more effort into-

"What are you standing there for? Help!!"

He smiled at you, shaking his head, moving closer and helping you take out the things you needed.

***

Jeongin sat on your bed, watching as you tweaked some final touches here and there.

The silk had been laid out on the floor, all the lights were off. The room was illuminated in a warm, ochre glow, thanks to the numerous candles that had been lit and placed everywhere in the room. 

You made sure the rose petals were scattered properly, pouring just a little more wine into the single glass in the middle of the pentagram you'd made with the red yarn you'd found on sale in the crafts shop. 

Sitting up, you rubbed your forehead as you went over to the windowsill, relighting one of the candles that had snuffed out.

"15 minutes." Jeongin reminded as you nodded. "Okay...we're ready."

You sat down in front of the pentagram, breathing heavily in anticipation. Jeongin watched from his perch on your bed...He knew nothing out of the ordinary was going to happen tonight...unless a candle knocked over and set fire to the whole building. However, as he watched you bite your bottom lip in worry, he almost hoped you wouldn't be disappointed...that something out of the blue would happen.

Oh, if only he knew.

"So...say we do manage to summon a demon. Exactly how would this benefit us?"

"Good question." You pointed to the big book in front of you. You'd bought the huge tome from an occults shop down the block...it had been expensive, and you'd gone a few days without breakfast...but it was worth it.

You read out the paragraph to Jeongin, and he nodded, chewing on his lip as he listened. When you were done, he sighed, moving onto the floor next to you. 

"So, basically...like a genie? The demon will give us 3 wishes?"

"Eh. Genies don't exist. Also...they're not exactly wishes, more like...favours? I think? He'll ask us to repay them at a later date."

Jeongin rolled his eyes. "And nothing sounds fishy about that? Nothing? I'm not sure I want to be indebted to a demon..."

"Eh, it'll be fine. We've got to start. Okay, everything's ready...now, it says that the person who conducts the ritual needs to mix in a drop of their blood with the wine, and then drink it."

Jeongin wrinkled his nose. "Eww. Y/n, come on..." 

"What? It says it right here in on the book. It's just a tiny drop of blood, Jeongin. No big deal." 

"Are you sure...?"

"Yep. Okay so after that, we just need to chant this phrase three times, blow out the innermost circle of candles and voila! Our very own demon, here to do our bidding."

"F-fine."

You smiled at him, glancing up at the clock on the wall and swearing under your breath. "Fuck, it's time...Okay, let's begin." 

You scrambled around with one hand, finding the pocket knife and hovering it over your fingertip. Biting your lip, you slowly sliced your skin open, letting a tiny drop of blood fall into the wine glass below. Jeongin quickly got up, grabbing a box of band-aids from the bedside table and handing it to you. You glared at him for interrupting you, but sighed and let him wrap your finger up anyway.

Wrenching your hand away once he was done, you glanced at the clock once again before lifting the glass to your lips.

The wine flowed down your throat, the taste bitter and potent. You coughed once as you set it down, your eyes going over to the paragraph.

"Recipienti pignori obligo animam meam, et non sunt daemonium...et quod summoneret eum cum sanguine." 

You repeated it thirteen times, and then glanced at the clock again. One more second...

12:00.

You blew out the candles quickly, the entire circle snuffed out before it became 12:01.

You sat back, panting as the plumes of smoke danced around in the air. A minute passed by, then two.

Nothing happened.

A small sigh left you. You turned to Jeongin. The boy gave you a sympathetic smile, pulling you into his side and patting your shoulder. "It's o-"

He was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. The two of you turned around so fast you almost got whiplash...but there was nothing. Just smoke.

Wait...a lot of smoke. You frowned slowly as the candles kept releasing more and more of it, until there was far too much. The curlicues of smoke twirled in the air, fogging your vision as it slowly started forming into a figure. 

A figure with horns.

You quickly buried your face into Jeongin's chest, your heart beating fast. No way. No way it actually worked. This had to be a dream...right?

The way Jeongin shivered slightly beneath you proved otherwise. No. It all felt too real.

You looked up slowly, swallowing. 

He was still there.

A man...he was clad in a suit, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled up and shirt unbuttoned all the way to his torso. His black hair was slicked back, exposing his forehead, and his nose was sharp...

Perhaps the most notable of it all were his eyes. They were almost catlike and shone with a crimson glow. 

Oh...that and the horns. Huge, blood-red horns that jutted out from his head.

His gaze was filled with scrutiny as he coolly stood there with his hands in his pockets, raising an eyebrow at the two of you, cowering on the floor.

"Did the pretty one here summon me?" He asked after a few minutes of silence, a small smirk on his face as his eyes roved over the silk and rose petals on the floor.

You gulped, pulling away from Jeongin a little more, but the boy didn't relax his grip on you. "Y-yes."

He nodded. "Thought so. I was actually extremely busy...but I could sense you were a cute one. I don't mind bending the rules a little for mortals like you." You noticed how he was only looking at you, completely ignoring Jeongin.

He looked around, going over to the armchair next to your bed and reclining on it, his stance reminiscent of a king's as he placed his chin on his hand, looking down at the two of you.

"Hmm, go on with it then. Why are you still fully clothed?" He asked, hand coming down over the straining bulge in his pants. 

Jeongin frowned, looking over at you in confusion that mirrored yours. What the fuck?

"I'm s-sorry? I thought...it doesn't mention that I have to be naked in the book here-"

He rolled his eyes, still palming himself. "Whatever. If you prefer being clothed, that's fine. Let's just get this over with, okay doll? Come here." 

"I'm c-confused-"

He tilted his head. "Why? You want your wishes granted, right?"

"Yeah-"

"Exactly. There are certain things I require as payment for those, you know." He meaningfully looked down at his bulge, and then back up at you again.

Your eyes slowly widened in outrage. "Wait...what the fuck??" Jeongin's mouth slowly opened in disbelief as you shook your head vehemently. "No. Nope. No way. I'm not going to let a demon fuck m-'

He shook his head, chuckling. "Darling, how else would an incubus such as myself grant your wish?"

"Pardon!?"

"We draw our powers from sexual energy-"

"I never-" You looked back at the book, scanning the paragraph over and over again. "I- it says nothing here about incubuses-"

"Incubi. And of course it doesn't. It's common knowledge that all wish-granting demons are incubi."

Jeongin shook his head, deciding he'd heard enough. He worked up his courage, trying to pretend like he wasn't intimidated by the actual demon that was in his best friend's bedroom.

"Look here, Sir- you can't just have sex with her. We must have missed the part where it said you were an...an incubus. Just go back where you came from."

The demon frowned slowly, his eyes finally landing on Jeongin. There was a questioning look in his eyes.

"Oh. I hadn't noticed the boy here." He sniffed the air, shaking his head. "His blood isn't involved in the ritual...must be why I couldn't see him properly till now." He mused, almost to himself as you looked at Jeongin, the two of you sharing a look filled with fear and bafflement. 

"It doesn't work that way, unfortunately, boy. I came here...and sadly, I cannot leave Earth until my purpose is satisfied and 3 boons are granted."

You shivered, wondering what the hell you had gotten into. The demon noticed your discomfort and sighed, inspecting his fingernails. 

"Look. I don't care if you have sex with me or not, although it wouldn't hurt to have my way with a pretty little kitten like you. All I need is sexual energy, so just fuck your friend here. I don't care."

It took a minute for the two of you to process what he had just said. He felt embarrassment fill him from head to toe as he buried his head in his hands, unable to look you in the eye.

However...you were starting to feel something quite different. The air was heavy and thick with a scent that was melting your inhibitions away, one by one. You felt arousal grow in your core, amplifying to the point where you let out a soft whimper, unable to control yourself anymore. 

You looked up slowly, gulping as you noticed the demon's eyes on you. He was smirking, a malicious one that was trained on you. His aura was driving itself into your brain, making you weaker and weaker in his presence.

"What...what are you doing to m-me?" You choked out, trailing off into a moan as you felt another sharp burst of pleasure.

"Hm? I'm not doing anything, little kitty. I'm just here, existing."

You felt your brain grow mushy as your neediness grew. 

He was an incubus, and you were chained to him with a blood link, thanks to the ritual. His pure sexual energy was merely too much for your human brain, and as the seconds passed by, you were closer to giving up.

Jeongin watched with horror in his eyes as you closed your eyes tightly, trying not to breathe in the contaminated air. However, as you felt another ribbon of ecstatic pleasure shoot through you, you finally snapped.

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, you crawled across the floor as the demon spread his thighs to accommodate you. He smirked at your needy form that looked up at him with wide, blown-out eyes, on your knees.

"Good girl." He ruffled your hair, chuckling as you ate up the praise, scrambling to unzip his pants. You managed to take his cock out finally, after a few minutes of fumbling.

He was big. Too big. His cock was redder than a human's, and almost angry looking.

Mouth-watering.

"What are you waiting for? Cat got your tongue?" He cooed, grabbing a handful of your hair as he held his cock with his other hand. 

You moaned, opening your mouth and staring up at him. He groaned, the innocence on your face entrancing him as he shoved you onto his length, your tiny mouth engulfed with his huge cock.

Spluttering, you felt tears spring to your eyes as he slid impossibly far down your throat. He groaned and threw his head back. The sight of you with your mouth stuffed full, your throat bulging with his cock...it was threatening to drive him insane.

Meanwhile, Jeongin could hardly believe what he was witnessing. He was frozen in place, unable to move even an inch as the shock filled every inch of his brain. The demon looked up at him, his grip on your hair relentless as he slowly started fucking your throat, so deep you could barely breathe.

"Like what you see, boy? Your girl's little throat mercilessly fucked by a demon? Tsk. How spineless." 

Jeongin felt the slightest bit of anger rush into him. Somehow, the demon's presence was amplifying his feelings, making him even angrier as he continued using your throat as a fucktoy. 

"S-stop."

"Hm? Why should I?" He paused, pulling you off his cock roughly, your mouth dripping with saliva and pre-cum. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, Sir. Please, please use me!" You begged, eagerly moving forward to take him into your mouth again. 

The demon looked back up at Jeongin, evil grin reappearing. 

Jeongin clenched his fists, hating how weak he felt. The sight of you on your knees, sucking off this, this impossibly hot demonic man, was putting a bad taste in his mouth. 

"Sir, just...you have to, stop-"

The demon wrinkled his lips, shaking his head. "My name is Minho, boy. I don't own you, so I don't expect you to treat me with respect...although you will, if you know what's good for you." He tutted, looking down at you again and holding you down on him harshly, your nose pressed to his skin.

"This kitten here does, though. The little ritual she did binds her to me for life."

"You can't- you can't just do that. You can't just take ownership of someone against their will-"

"It's not against her will. She's the one who carried out the ritual, may I remind you. I'm not forcing her to do anything." He lifted a finger in the air lazily, and somehow you found your body changing position, hands slipping off his lap and settling on the floor. Now you were on all fours, lips still wrapped around him as he bucked his hips up.

"The air stinks of jealousy. May I remind you that Envy is one of the deadly sins, little boy?" 

Jeongin didn't know what to say any more. He felt utterly helpless, out of place. His feelings were all muddled, and he didn't feel like himself. Sweat was gathering on his brow as Minho eased his grip on your hair, slowing down a little and letting you control the pace. He lifted his finger again, waving it in a tight circle...The energy in the room shifted even more as your skirt slowly lifted up, exposing your ass to Jeongin's eyes.

It was becoming harder to hide the straining bulge in his pants. 

You whined softly as Minho pulled out of you, fingers holding your chin as he observed your wrecked face carefully. "What a good kitten. Now, I think this little boyfriend of yours is enjoying the show too much." Minho looked up, his gaze directed at Jeongin's bulge.

"Wouldn't it be mean to make him watch and leave him out of this, kitty?" He asked, mock sympathy on his face as he waved his finger again, making your panties and shirt disappear in less than a millisecond.

You let out a soft yelp, feeling slightly humiliated. It turned you on more, as you realized you were now completely naked except for your skirt and socks. "Yeah, Sir, whatever you say." You let out a sigh and rested your chin on his thigh. "Want Jeonginnie to join too~" you mumbled.

Jeongin gulped, hating the way even more blood rushed south at the sight of you half-naked and on all fours. Now, he had a clear view of your glistening pussy as well as your puckered rim. He licked his lips subtly, all his emotions conflicted as he found himself moving closer. 

"Y/n...you really want this?" He asked softly, stopping a few centimetres away.

You turned around to look at him. "Yeah...please..." You pouted. The expression on your face was so needy that Jeongin couldn't help but cave. Besides, now that he was closer to Minho, the aura he was emitting was starting to affect him as well. And that meant he could feel his arousal grow at a fast rate, his cock painfully caged in his pants.

Minho leaned down a little to pick you off the floor. His suit jacket and shirt disappeared, leaving him shirtless as he settled you on his lap, facing Jeongin as he spread your legs.

Hands on your waist, Minho nosed at the back of your neck as he lined your entrance up with his tip. Your eyes were focused on Jeongin, senses clogged with ardor as Minho slowly lowered you onto his cock. The wetness gushing out of you made it a little easier for him to slip in, however his size was still stretching you out to the point where it was borderline painful. 

You felt the tears flow down your face freely, as Minho finally managed to push the last few inches in, his entire girth sheathed in you. He was as thick as he was long, and your pussy accommodated him desperately, aching.

He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Too fuck- fucking tight, princess-" He groaned, starting to fuck you on his cock slowly, his strokes roughly trying to open up your pussy.

Jeongin couldn't remember exactly when he'd taken his cock out...but his hands were wrapped around it, stroking slowly as his hooded eyes watched you bounce on the demon's cock. Minho used one hand to gather your skirt up, exposing the spot where you two were connected to Jeongin.

Jealousy, arousal, fear, shock and anger...it all melted together in his brain as he let his dark side take over, slowly. He knew it was because he was in close quarters with an incubus- the raw sexual energy was too much for his human brain to process healthily...it still felt so wrong.

"You want to fuck her, don't you? What are you standing there for, then?" Minho groaned, as he continued plunging his cock into you.

You whined loudly as Minho's tip hit your sweet spot roughly. "Jeongin- want jeong-" You tripped over your words as Minho fucked you dumb.

"P-please, Jeonginnieeee~ Want you in me!" You begged, one arm reaching behind you to wrap around Minho's neck as his hands came up to cup your boobs.

Minho looked up from kissing your neck, red eyes trained on the boy. "You heard her."

He sure did. As the last shred of apprehension faded away, Jeongin couldn't bring himself to care any more. In a few long strides, he was right in front of you.

He let go of you, as Jeongin pulled you downward, so that your face was level with his cock. Minho's grip on your hips was tight, making sure you didn't fall as you tried to steady yourself by placing your hands on Jeongin's thighs.

His thumb swiped across your bottom lip as he stared at you with hungry eyes, before he slipped it in. You started sucking on it eagerly, making the boy above you chuckle. 

He pulled his thumb out, prompting a whine from you- but quickly, it was replaced with the head of his cock as he pressed it against your parted lips, taking him in.

Jeongin's cock, despite being much smaller than Minho's, was above average for a human, and it still filled up your mouth deliciously. You felt him dive deep into your throat as he tangled both of his hands in your hair, using that as leverage to fuck into your mouth harder. 

"Good boy..."

"Don't call me that." Jeongin spat, his anger building up. He took out his frustration on you, fucking your mouth harsher than Minho had. The combination of two cocks in you turned you on more than ever, and soon enough, you came as you blubbered incoherencies, clenching tightly around Minho.

A few thrusts later, Jeongin felt his high approach. Not wanting to cum yet, he pulled out quickly. You looked up at him, looking so fucked out, absolutely heavenly. How ironic.

He needed you. He'd never felt any emotion this intense before. Gritting his teeth, Jeongin pulled you off Minho, throwing you onto the bed with a grunt. You stared up at him in shock, looking to the right at Minho. 

The demon let out a low chuckle, settling himself comfortably in his chair as he propped his chin up with one hand, the other jerking himself off.

Jeongin couldn't look at you. He avoided eye contact, knowing he'd go completely insane if he looked at you.

Roughly spreading your thighs, he leaned down to take your clit between his teeth. You let out a moan, throwing your head back as he shoved his tongue between your folds, groaning at the taste. He kissed and sucked all over your pussy, heart beating a little too fast. His fingers came up to rub at your clit as he shallowly fucked his tongue into your entrance.

Minho slowly stood up, tired of standing to the side. Gently, he shoved Jeongin to the side. The latter growled in frustration, but stopped as Minho lay down on the bed. You quickly understood, his power influencing you to comprehend what he wanted you to do.

You climbed onto Minho backwards, his cock in front of your face. You kissed up his length immediately, lips wrapping around his tip as you felt him grab your ass, pulling you so your pussy made contact with his tongue. 

He pulled away for a second. "Go ahead and fuck her ass, it's a lot tighter than her pussy." He said, knowing how roughly he'd fucked you just a while ago.

Jeongin couldn't care less. He just wanted to be in you, as quick as possible. As he led his cock to your ass, he gulped. This was not how he'd expected the night to go. 

He spat on your winking pucker, pushing in shortly after. You were so consumed with passion that it barely hurt, even when he started thrusting roughly. The pleasure set you ablaze, the combination of Minho's lips wrapped around your clit and Jeongin's dick deep inside your ass tantalizingly unreal. You couldn't think straight. 

Minho put his hands under you, spreading your ass cheeks, making Jeongin groan. You felt his tongue making its way into your pussy, making you moan around his cock. 

The room was filled with sounds of skin slapping skin, as well as the groans of the two men fucking you.

Jeongin had imagined having sex with you before. This was definitely not how he'd ever expected it to go. He'd thought of asking you out, taking you on dates, kissing your face and lips softly...yet here he was now, fucking your ass demonically. 

You purred as you felt his cock twitch inside you, starting to suck on Minho's cock harder. He tasted so different, almost addicting. You were driven with an intense need to taste his cum, kitten-licking his slit to try and get him to orgasm. 

You whined as Minho used his grip on your ass to drag your pussy over his mouth. The sound was so beautiful, driving Jeongin closer to his high. Before he knew it, he was fucking into you faster than before, intent on filling you up. In seconds, he came with a grunt, filling you up perfectly with his seed.

As he came down from his high, he regained some of his sensibility. He felt self-loathing fill him, hating what he'd just done. 

Jeongin watched as Minho ate you out roughly, his grip so tight on your ass that it was sure to leave future bruises.

As the demon sucked on your clit, you felt yourself shake, whimpering around his length as another orgasm washed over you, clenching around Jeongin's cock that was still inside you. The overstimulation made him bite his lip and pull out, watching as a drop of his cum leaked out of you. Using his finger, he gathered it up and pushed it back into your hole gently. 

Your continuous moans were sending vibrations down Minho's length, and soon he was fucking up into your mouth, chasing his high. He came after a particularly rough thrust, filling up your mouth with so much cum that it leaked out of the corners of your mouth.

Jeongin sat back as Minho pushed you off of him slowly, propping you up on the bed. Weakly, you closed your eyes, collapsing against the pillow. All the strength had been zapped out of you, and you fell asleep quickly.

Minho noticed Jeongin's worried expression, chuckling. "She just got fucked by a demon and her best friend. She'll be okay after some rest." He said, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"I...don't like this. She's never going to look at me the same way ever again. I've failed her as a best friend-"

"Woah, stop right there. She wanted it. She was practically begging for you."

"Well our friendship's never going to be the same after this, and I blame you." He said, glaring at the demon, who put up his hands in defense. 

"Look. You two summoned me, I came, I did my job." 

Minho lazily leaned back next to you, as you slumped, resting your head in his lap as you snored. He chuckled, and stroked your hair as if you were a cat.

"I could get used to living here." 

"What?!"

"Once I'm on Earth, I can't leave until I've satisfied my client's wishes. And I can tell the two of you are going to be...hard to satisfy. I'm going to be here for a while." He smirked. 

Jeongin tried not to let the jealousy show on his face. He hated the idea.

"You're in love with her...aren't you?"

Jeongin's eyes widened as he stared up at the demon whose eyes had softened. 

"I see the way you look at her. How protective you were of her." He sighed. "I'm a sex demon...love isn't my specialty. But...I know a few things about passion. You can't give up."

"That's easy for you to say." Jeongin groaned. Here he was, taking advice from a hellsent demon. What had his life come to?

"Anyway, I'll be spending a lot of time around here, so you'd better get used to this, boy."

"Jeongin." He looked up. "That's my name." 

Minho grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

He sighed, looking at you as you exhaled in your sleep, heart clenching with fondness. He couldn't believe the situation you'd gotten the both of them into...but somewhere deep down inside, he didn't regret anything that had happened.

Sometimes, being the responsible, mature one in your friendship was a challenging job..but he wouldn't trade it for the world.

[ayellowcurtain]

this was one of the best reads ever will you please think about writing a part 2 where they finally kiss the tension and instant connection is too much

Part 1

Sander takes another sip of his beer, using the motion to quietly look at Robbe, smiling to nothing while looking around the party. They haven’t separated in hours since those photos. Sander is not complaining at all because he knows his friends and he knows he won’t have to explain anything to them.

He wonders who are Robbe’s friends - he talked about them but Sander didn’t care to look around and search the guys Robbe had just described to him - and what they’re going to say after Robbe left them for the rest of the night.

Some people are already leaving but it’s not late enough for that, they’re probably going elsewhere because these types of teenage parties are only over or with the police or with the sun up high in the sky already. Sander doesn’t have that patience for that anymore - a year in college can make you feel really adult - but he’ll gladly stay with Robbe for as long as the boy wants him to.

The plan of getting drunk is almost impossible at this point because they talked too much and so there was very little time to search for actual beverages that can get you drunk. This beer won’t do it, Sander thinks as he finishes his bottle, putting it on the kitchen counter.

Robbe looks at what he’s doing, cleaning his lips from the beer with his lips, looking at Sander when he finally looks back at Robbe, knowing the boy was looking.

“Do you want more beer?”

Sander shakes his head, lifting his eyebrows.

“Do you want more beer? I think I’m good.” He looks around, finding the fridge, walking back so Robbe doesn’t get the wrong idea that Sander wants to stop looking at him already. He opens the fridge, and grabs two Cokes for them, showing one to Robbe and he nods his head.

“I guess you’re choosing for me.” Robbe laughs, moving to stand closer to the island, watching Sander open their sodas.

“Sorry. I can get you a beer.”

“No, relax.” He looks up at Sander with those puppy, baby eyes, and Sander smiles at him so he doesn’t just reach and kiss him instead. “I was kidding.”

Robbe carefully puts his long fingers around the can, pulling it closer to him.

“Should we toast?”

Sander nods his head, grabbing his can too. “Yes, of course, to what?”

“To us! Obviously.” Robbe pushes his closer to Sander’s and he clicks the bottom of their cans, staring into Robbe’s eyes as he drinks a little bit.

“Oh, I don’t know if it’s the ten warm beers that I drank but this Coke tastes perfect!”

Sander snorts shyly, walking around the island to meet Robbe again.

“It’s really good, you’re right. And I didn’t drink ten beers, so…”

“How are you feeling? Not even a tiny bit tipsy?”

Sander purrs, and thankfully the music is still too loud for Robbe to hear it. Robbe is clearly a little bit past the tipsy stage. They’ve spent enough hours glued together for Sander to notice how Robbe’s sunburned cheeks are even redder now, probably warm too. He’s tanned, and it looks like he came straight from a road trip. His eyes are tired since earlier but they’re getting heavy now, Robbe blinks slowly, his a little too dry lips keep being moisturized by his tongue, making them shiny - and tempting - and he’s clearly a little more loose, more talkative, and definitely more flirty.

“I feel my eyes getting tired but that might very well be that it's almost four in the morning and I’m still awake, a good car ride from home, and my bed, listening to this shitty music melt my brain. The beers might be helping with the brain melting part.”

Robbe follows his whole speech carefully, and his smiles, and laughs at the end, and Sander has to drink more of his soda to keep his mouth and brain and hands busy with something.

“Yeah, I get what you mean.”

“How much longer until your friends decide to leave?” Sander lifts his eyebrows to the crowd, even though he doesn't know to whom he’s pointing. Robbe looks around, and doesn’t find his familiar faces. So he looks back at Sander, a little worried.

“They’re the type to clean the bowls, to drink the last beers…Do you want to leave?”

Yes, Sander very much would like to leave, but with Robbe, even if just to walk him somewhere else.

“Yeah, it would be nice to breathe some fresh air…”

“I can walk you home.” Robbe decides, finishing his soda in one long gulp so they can leave already. Sander is surprised with his decision to leave his friends behind.

“Are you sure? And your friends?”

Robbe rolls his eyes, leaving his empty can inside an empty cup.

“I’m pretty sure they left already or found someone…” Robbe lifts his eyebrows, and Sander nods his head, pressing his lips together. Sander would be lying if he said the thought didn’t cross his mind. But his plan of a New Year’s Eve fun sounds too short for Robbe. Sander would like to have him until the next New Year’s Eve and the next, and the next.

“Do you live around here?”

Robbe nods his head in that way he does where his loose curls sort of bounce around his face.

“Five minutes walk, maybe ten if we walk slowly.”

Sander smiles, finishing his soda too, leaving it close to Robbe’s.

“I would give us half an hour.”

Robbe smiles at him, and they just stand there, looking at each other with no shame for a moment.

“That sounds good.”

“Yeah.”

Sander nods his head to the front door, and starts walking slowly so Robbe will follow. He leads them through the way too sweaty crowd, a bunch of people are with no shame making out in the middle of other strangers talking. It’s late so Sander gets the lack of shame or interest to move somewhere more private.

He opens the front door and stands in the way, letting Robbe walk right next to him, looking and laughing because well, Sander could have held the door open without standing in the way against it, but where would the fun be in there?

“Left or right?”

Robbe points left. “Left, always.”

Sander laughs, walking next to him.

“And your friends? You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I’ll text them later, but they knew I was leaving at some point…”

“They did? How?”

Sander thinks about how to say it because they've been talking for at least 6 hours now. Robbe is tipsy and clearly not very familiar with flirting so openly - maybe because Sander is a guy - but he’s not that naive. He’s been flirting right back.

“Because they dragged me to the party. I just broke up with my girlfriend and they wanted to find me a rebound.”

“Oh.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes, and Robbe is actually bothered by what he said, his whole attitude, body language starts to close off, get more serious, and Sander panics, thinking he was way too forward or left too much space for misunderstanding. He lets Robbe think for a minute, for the silence to get less weird.

“But that was their plan, not mine, clearly.”

Sander looks at Robbe more purposely and he looks at Sander, confused, but happily surprised, maybe. It makes Sander wonder, based on how open his facial expressions are, if that’s because of the drinks or if that’s just how Robbe is.

“I think you lost me.”

Robbe stops, and looks back, and Sander assumes they’re at his place so he stops too, turning to stand in front of Robbe.

“They wanted me to just get it out of my system with a random stranger so I could move on but then I found you, and wanted to spend the rest of the night with you, talking or having sex, didn’t really matter which one.”

Sander snorts, hoping Robbe doesn’t get offended by his bluntness. He could give him more details but it feels like a lot of information at once already.

“Wow.” Robbe finally exhales his laughter, looking down for half a second, meeting Sander’s eyes again right after. “Okay, now I get it.”

“Still upset at me?” Sander lifts his eyebrows, hoping he can make the puppy eyes as effectively as Robbe does.

“No. I wasn’t mad at you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Sander.”

“Okay, good.” He takes a big step forward, entering Robbe’s personal space but giving him a second to push Sander back if that’s what he feels like doing.

He doesn’t so Sander finally reaches, putting his hand on the back of Robbe’s neck, massaging it quietly, noticing how Robbe relaxes and closes his eyes for a second, and Sander smiles, finally kissing him.

It’s the best kiss he ever had. It’s slow, and sexy, a little too bitter because of all the beers, but Robbe melts into him, and Sander holds him tighter, putting his other hand on Robbe’s ribs to pull him closer and he could do this for the rest of his life.

Robbe is the one to stop the kiss, moaning softly as Sander sucks his bottom lip as he moves his head slightly up.

They smile at each other and Robbe moves his head, brushing their noses together before he takes a tiny step back.

“You wanna come in?”

Sander looks at him, no need to think about it but it’s just that Robbe is so beautiful, blushing again, with shiny, mesmerizing lips, messy hair and so relaxed that Sander wants to sleep holding him in his arms.

“Yeah, of course. Is that okay?”

Robbe nods his head, looking at Sander’s lips, and then back to his eyes.

“I just...never done this before.”

“This…?” Sander lifts his eyebrows even though he’s pretty sure he knows what Robbe is talking about but he doesn’t want to assume out loud.

“Sex.”

“...With anyone?”

Robbe shakes his head to the sides. Sander can’t help but want to go inside even more.

“And you want it to be with me?”

Robbe laughs shyly. “Yes, and we don’t need to make it more awkward now.”

“Okay! Okay…” Sander pulls him closer for a quick peck on his lips and they finally move inside holding hands.

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay chapter 14, Seeing Ghosts (part 2)

Part 1 - https://remmushound.tumblr.com/post/659856430715764736/chapter-14-seeing-ghosts-part-1-part-2

Summary: The rest of the return home and they meet someone new

Tags: @ilo-artistry @brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @digitl-art-monstr

Content warning: Swears

“I heard it!” Mikey said, waving his hands around in a wide motion, “It was like BANG. Er. Hm…” Just mouthing the sound effects did not do the point justice, so Mikey stood up and wobbled over to the closest thing that looked metal, banging on it a few times to show the resounding CLANK! “Like this!”

Raph’s eyes furrowed, and then shot wide. A breath hissed through his teeth and he shook his head back and forth with a slow pace. The reaction didn't go unnoticed.

“What’s up, Big Red? You seeing ghosts too?” Leonardo asked.

Raph gave another hiss, hands coming up to scratch at his head. He bit his toothpick in half and spat both halves separately onto the floor.

Donatello followed Raph’s spit and split toothpick all the way to the floor. “I just mopped in here.”

“Yeah. I might’ve.” Raph swiped his tongue over his lips.

“This is news to me.” Leo put his hands on his hips.

Raph eyed his brother with an ‘are you serious’ look. “No the fuck it ain’t. I told you an’ dad both that sommat weird was happenin’ right before Don and Mike came home. That something was in the bathroom with me!”

Michelangelo gasped softly. “It’s a pervert ghost.”

“I knew that chastity belt would come in handy!” Donatello exclaimed. “Ain’t no pervert ghost taking my turtle-hood. Not without a fight!”

“Donnie, please stop talking.” Leonardo said quickly, and in the same breath addressed Mikey and Raph. “If he saw something, and he saw something, then… they saw something.”

“Yes, that’s how seeing things tend to work.” Donnie agreed.

“What I’m saying is that Mikey, apparently, wasn’t there when Raph had his prevent ghost encounter, and Raph wasn’t here when Mikey had his. Raph, did you tell Mikey about what you saw?”

“Nah.” Raph shook his head. “He was all… you know… seizing.”

“Then how could Mikey know about it and give the exact same account? And it’s not even in the same place! Something is here, and something is following you guys.”

“Seems like a stretch to me.” Leo crossed his arms, and though he tried to show nothing but confidence, his voice wavered as uncertainty latched upon him. 

“Your voice says otherwise.” Leonardo waved a finger.

“With all do respect, Leo, you are in our world.” Raphael said, “It doesn’t work the same as yours. Something could have gone through or…”

“I would have noticed it.” Leo flashed his teeth, “I would have senses something-- Donatello’s alarms would have picked it up!”

“Mystic stuff isn’t always so easy to detect, you know.” Donatello said, “It’s possible his tech wasn’t advanced enough to pick up on mystic traces.”

“Okay, now I’m offended.” Donnie crossed his arms.

“I speak only the truth.” Donatello stuck up his large nose.

“Guys, stop fighting!” Mikey whined.

“Who’s fighting?” Leo asked, “We’re not fighting!”

“You’re fighting with me right now!”

“No I’m not!”

“Can we not do this?” Michelangelo frowned, starting to shrink into his shell.

“I know what I saw.” Raph snarled.

“I thought it was what you didn't see.” Leo retorted.

“Heard, then!” Raph got in Leo’s face, “And Mike heard it too!”

All the arguing and shouting and pleading mixed into one near-unintelligible screaming match where just enough of each argument got through for the opposing party to make a new comeback. Through the cacophony of voices, there came a soft voice that couldn’t placed to anyone. 

“Please stop fighting…”

The barely audible words were heard even past the screaming, and it put an immediate end to all arguments. Some of the turtles were left with their mouths still hanging open, mouthing the words they were about to say except without volume. Eyes widened and one by one turned to seek the source of the voice that had spoken.

The small origin of the small voice couldn’t have stood more than three feet in height. His body was a sleek one with rounded edges and an oversized head; if there was a single pointed edge on his entire body, none of the turtles could see it. His eyes were wide, owl-like screens with white pupils rimmed in green sliding around, impossibly expressive for something clearly inorganic.

Everyone stepped back, and it came naturally to all of them that the smaller brothers were pressed back deeper into fold while the bigger brothers stood in front, eyes locked on the robot. A whirl joined every fluid motion he made looking between all of them, from Raph to Donnie to Leo to Raphael to Mikey. No one could find the breath to respond, and when the stranger took a step forward, everyone else took a step back.

“I’m terribly sorry.” The voice was the most polite voice one could imagine; he folded his hands together as he kept looking between the turtles. “I did not intend to make you fight. Or to startle you just now. I only wanted to stop the yelling.”

Still no words could be said, for they were all speechless.

“I am speaking the right language…” The robot said slowly, “I heard you all speaking it just a second ago. OH! Is my accent weird…?”

Donatello was the first one to break out of his silence, the stunned look on his face quickly shifting back to his normal, uncaring expression as he turned to look at his brothers.

“Wait, why are we stunned again? We’ve seen way weirder.”

Michelangelo let his shock fade away. “Oh yeah.”

“What’s your name?” Raphael asked politely.

The robot seemed overjoyed, giving a bounce of pure happiness. “Hello! My name is Professor Zayton Honeycutt and I am a man of science! Both literally and metaphorically.”

“I… you…” Donnie stumbled over his words as they all fought to get out at once. Though the stunned shine in his eyes remained, astonishment and excitement slowly grew to join. “You’re a robot!”

“Yes!” Said Honeycutt.

“You’re… tiny.” Raph scrutinized.

“Yes!” Said Honeycutt.

“You’re the ghost?” Leo gawked.

“Yes!” Said Honeycutt.

“You’re so cuuuuute!” Mikey ran forward to get a closer look, falling to the ground to ever so tenderly shift Honeycutt around.

“Yes!” Honeycutt said, “I am Professor Zayton Honeycutt, and I am a man of science! Both literally and metaphorically!”

“You eh… said that already.” Raphael pointed out.

“Ah. Apologies. As a robot, I do tend to make a habit of redundancy.” 

“Right…” Leo said slowly, then cleared his throat, “Well, I suppose you need our names…”

“Nope!” Said Honeycutt, “You’re Leonardo, you’re Donatello, you’re Raphael, and you’re Michelangelo!” He seemed very proud of himself, turning next to the Hamato brothers, “And you’re Leonardo, you’re Donatello, you’re Raphael, and You’re Michelangelo. Easy pattern to follow!” 

“Exactly how long have you been following us…?” Raph’s words were slow as he lumbered forward to join Mikey in looking over the robot, though without touching him.

“Oh, not that long!” Honeycutt beeped, “Only a week…”

Leo’s eyes went wide. “A WEEK?!”

“Yes!” Honeycutt said, “Seven days! Eight if you count today!”

“I…” Leo was lost for words and when they finally escaped his lips, there was very little force behind them, “How did I not know…?”

“Do not feel sad, Leonardo, I was in hiding! Not even the Triceraton Prime Leader himself could have found me!”

Raph blinked. “The what?”

“The Prime Leader!” Honeycutt repeated.

“Yeah… w-what is that?” Leo asked. He kneeled down to try and get more level with Honeycutt, but even then was two heads too big.

“That’s the name for the triceraton leader.” The answer came from Mikey, not from Honeycutt. Mikey was proud as first, beaming so wide his eyes were squinted shut. Then his smile faded and he blinked as joy was replaced with utter confusion.

“That’s correct!” Honeycutt praised.

“Mike…?” Donnie asked in his soft voice, “How’d you know that?”

“I… I dunno…” Mikey shrugged. His panicked eyes confirmed his words true. He turned to his brothers as the fear took seed in every aspect of his being. “It— it just slipped out!”

“Oh, what joy!” Honeycutt declared with a clap of his hands.

“No, no, not joy!” Mikey’s voice had grown into a higher pitch.

Honeycut tilted his head and his face panel shifted to one of confusion. “Why not joy? Knowledge is such a wondrous thing to achieve! Wouldn’t you agree, Donatello and Donatello?”

Neither of the purple ninja seemed particularly interested to respond to the robot’s query. Like a stubborn child who couldn’t take a hint that he was unwanted in the situation, Honeycutt remained patiently waiting on the tips of his feet, screen bright. To put an end to the awkward staring contest that they had unwillingly entered, Donnie cleared his throat.

“Yeah. I… I guess so…” He was extremely uncomfortable, shoulders bunched and head drawn deeper into his shell.

Honeycutt, seeming satisfied with the answer, beeped his agreement, “Yes! There is no guessing required! It is an unchanging fact of life on all planets, especially earth!”

“Wait…” Leonardo said, taking a step forward to point at Honeycutt, “You’re the andoroido, aren’t you? The android that bought all of Monroe’s rifts. Are you the one who took Don’s stuff too?”

From bright excitement to somber shyness, Honeycutt’s face screen shifted dark. “Yes. I apologize, but the Splinterson’s may not return home…”

Raph huffed hot air out of his nostrils. “Who you think you are, a free elf?”

Leonardo sputtered, and then broke down into laughter. Raph’s smile widened as his joke was acknowledged, but he was quick to clear his throat and straighten his posture to save face. Leo had enough of Leonardo’s laughter quickly, and before he could stop himself, he reacted the same way he would have if it had been Mikey laughing.

“This is a serious matter,” Leo said, “Not a laughing one.”

Leonardo made a point to laugh directly in Leo’s face, crossing his arms as he leaned so close his beak almost touched Leo’s. “Sounds like a job for mister serious then. Go on.”

“Don’t think I won’t.” Leo snorted, then turned to Honeycutt, “Zayton, I demand you give Donatello his stuff back now and give us those rifts you bought.”

“No.” Came Honeycutt’s simple answer.

“Uh.” Leo didn't know how to react at first. He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna give you until the count of three to return that stuff!”

“Oh! Okay!” Said Honeycutt chipperly.

Leo, all confidence now down the drain, began to count down. “One…”

Honeycutt’s face was still just as happy and joyful, fingers intertwined as he listened.

“T-two…” Leo’s voice stuttered.

“Oh boy, I can’t wait to find out what comes after two!” Honeycutt was excited.

“T… two and a half. Two and three quarters…”

Honeycutt still had yet to react.

“Three…”

“Yay! Good job!” Honeycutt clapped an applause, “You made it all the way to three!”

Leo’s shoulders slumped. Even without turning around, he could hear the snickers and snorts of his brothers trying their damndest not to laugh, except for Mikey and Leonardo, who were practically falling over with the force of his guffaws. Raphael cleared his throat and laid an oversized hand on Leo’s shoulder. Leo turned around to look at him.

“Why not let us have a go at him, eh?”

Leo, with no other option, agreed.

[kaaytea]

Yaku Morisuke x reader

Summary: Yaku insisted that he didn't need your help, but the sound of glass breaking over the phone said otherwise.

Warnings: none

A/n: Yaku canonically has 2 little brothers now🥰 this is basically a gift for bug anon and @hikari-writes​ anyways enjoy mwah!!💖

----------------------------------------------------------

"Hi baby!" You happily chirped into the phone, "I'm excited for our date! It's been a while since we've gone on one."

There was a pause on the other end, you could hear shuffling and a few muffled giggles.

"Stop it you two! I'm sorry (y/n) but we're gonna have to postpone our date, my Aunt fell ill so my parents asked me to watch Yuji and Shiori While they go look after her. I'm really sorry I know how excited you were"

You let out a small laugh and shifted your phone to your other ear as you went to pick up your bag, "It's ok Mori, we can just reschedule for next weekend. How about I come over anyway? It sounds like you'll need the help."

"Ah you don't have to do that, I can usually handle them and I don't want you to-"

Yaku was cut off by the sound of a glass breaking followed by two voices

"ooooo Oniisan is gonna kill yooooou"

"No! He's gonna kill you because I didn't do it!"

Mori let out a tired sigh, "On second thought some help would be greatly appreciated."

"I'll be over in ten minutes, sit tight sweetie!"

<< --------------------------------------------------- >>

The Yaku family home wasn't too far from yours, being only a little over an eight-minute walk away. You'd been there plenty of times throughout the years after befriending Morisuke in junior high; your younger self would probably explode if they knew you'd end up dating that cute boy with pretty eyes and wavy, toffee hair who walked home the same way you did. The Yaku's basically became your second home at this point so helping Mori watch his little brothers wasn't that rare of an event.

You hopped up the steps to the humble house and knocked on the door, which swang open a few seconds after revealing a flustered Yaku Morisuke.

"Thank you for helping (y/n), I’m sorry.. this isn't exactly what I had in mind for us today," he said as you walked in, pressing a kiss to your cheek in the process.

"I don't mind helping you out Mori, sure it's not the same as a dinner date but we always have fun when watching the boys," you offered him a smile, which he returned, and followed him into the main room where you were immediately tackled by his brothers.

"(Y/n)-chan!" Yuji jumped up from his seat, abandoning the gaming controller he was holding leaving Shiori to win the game they were currently playing, and bounced over to you to hug your waist. Shiori followed closely behind his older brother and latched on to your waist as well.

"Hey you two!" You wrapped an arm around both boys and hugged them back, both of them looked up at you with big smiles.

They were looking more and more like Morisuke each time you saw them -which was understandable seeing as they're all brothers.

Yuji, the older of the two, shared the same toffee hair as his elder brother but Shiori's, while similar, was a few shades darker than Mori's. All three of them had the same chocolate-colored eyes and delicate freckles dusted on their cheeks though.

"Alright get off them, this might surprise you two but they need to do this thing called breathing," Yaku said from where he was leaning against the couch.

Both boys pulled away, Shiori lingering a little longer, and then dragged you over to the couch to play videogames with you.

Videogames were the most popular form of entertainment whenever you came to watch them. Yuji was scary good at games and almost always won when the four of you played; he could honestly rival Kenma's abilities.

Because there were only three controllers Shiori always sat on your lap so the both of you could take turns, but you had a sneaking suspicion it was because he was a little more attached to you and liked to be near you.

"Are you sure you don't want to play (y/n)-chan?" Shiori looked up at you from his spot on your lap with an innocent look.

"I'm sure Shi, I'm having much more fun watching you play," you leaned closer to him and whispered," Plus, I can help you beat your brothers this way."

He grinned at you and looked forward again to the tv. It seemed as though today's game of choice was Smash Bros Ultimate.

The three brothers started the game with Yuji instantly knocking Mori off the map resulting in him to yell out in frustration. Yaku could be very petty when he wanted so he spent most of the game targeting Yuji, leaving Shiori to sit safely on the sidelines. The game was coming to a close with Mori and Yuji both having one life left. Mori took a wild chance and ended up hitting Yuji off the map making the younger boy cry out in shock. That's when you guided Shiori over to Mori's character and won the match.

"No fair! (y/n)-chan helped you Shiori!" Yuji whined.

"I have no idea what you mean Yuji," you gave him a smile as he pouted at you; he took gaming very seriously.

"Ok ok, stop attacking (y/n) and Shi, why don't we go outside for a bit? The both of you have been in here playing games all day," Yaku got up and turned off the gaming console and tv then turned back to look at the two boys.

"Oooook," they both said before racing to the door. They pushed at each other in attempts to sabotage the other causing you to laugh at their antics. You were so engrossed in the younger boys race that you didn't notice Yaku standing in front of you until he flicked your head.

"You totally helped him win, didn't you" Mori stated with a playful glare.

You got up and pressed a kiss to his nose, "Maybe I did maybe I didn't. Why? Do you want me to help you win next time?" Mori blushed at your response then teasingly hit your shoulder.

<< --------------------------------------------------- >>

You and Yaku sat on the wooden porch together watching the younger boys kick around a soccer ball. Mori's arm was around your waist, his thumb occasionally rubbing soft circles into your hip.

"Niisan?" Shiori had diverged from Yuji and now stood in front of Mori and you, nervously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"What's up bud?"

"Can...can you teach me how to play volleyball?"

Mori honestly looked like he could cry when the words 'teach me to play volleyball' left his little brother’s mouth. He'd been hoping that at least one of his brothers would become interested in the sport and it seemed quiet Shiori would be the one.

Mori stood up with a grin on his face, "Sure Shi! Come on, we'll teach you how to receive first."

You smiled watching Shiori run after Morisuke; Yuji and Shiori really looked up to him, it's like they think he hung the stars in the sky himself.

"Yuji!" You called out. The boy looked up from where he was kicking around the soccer ball, "Wanna come help me make dinner?"

"Yeah!"

Yuji happily trailed after you to the kitchen, hopping around from foot to foot as he blabbered on about a Tv show.

You honestly didn't know where he got all his energy from, everyone else in his family was significantly less hyper; though, his cheery attitude was one of your favorite things about him.

"Alright Yuji, what should we make?"

He stopped his bouncing and brought a hand to his chin, his face scrunching up as he pondered his options.

"Ramen!"

You gave him a nod and searched through the cabinets for the noodle packets you were, oh so familiar with. You pulled out enough for four people, placing them on the counter. You then moved to the refrigerator -just eating the packaged noodles wouldn't be the healthiest, so you decided to put your own spin on it. After a quick once over of the fridge you pulled out some carrots, spinach, and a few eggs.

"Ok Kiddo, I'm giving you a really important job. I want you to wash the carrots and spinach, think you can do that for me?"

"Yep!" Yuji gathered the vegetables in his arms and brought them over to the sink to start his job. Once you were sure he was safe, you started looking around for a pot and cutting board. You'd been to this house so many times but if there was one room you weren't familiar with it was the kitchen. Yaku's mother always insisted that she had everything handled and for you to go enjoy your time with Morisuke.

"(y/n)-chan I'm done!" Yuji called over his shoulder. He had perfect timing as you had just found a pot big enough to cook the noodles in.

You walked over to the sink, pot in hand, and gave Yuji a pat on the head -he was absolutely beaming at your approval.

"looks good, I'm gonna start cutting the carrots, fill this pot a little over halfway and then we can start making the noodles," Yuji nodded up at you and started filled the pot while you started cutting the veggies.

You were fully concentrated on your task, you didn't even hear the backdoor open.

"Careful!" You looked over your shoulder to find Mori taking the filled pot from Yuji, the latter had a slight pout spread over his face.

Yaku placed the pot on the stove top and turned back to the younger boy, "Don't do that next time, alright? You could have gotten hurt...it's ok to ask for help when you need it."

Yuji nodded pitifully, he's eyes down casted on the floor in a mix of shame and embarrassment. Mori huffed and ruffled Yuji's hair making him perk up a bit, "I think (y/n) and I've get it handled from here buddy. Go play with Shi, we'll call you both when the foods done."

"Ok!" All previous sadness had left Yuji as he instantly reverted back to his happy self, he bounced out of the kitchen and in the direction of he and Shiori's shared room.

"Thank you for helping Yuji!" You called out. His head popped out from the side of the doorway with a large smile on his face.

"you're welcome (y/n)-chan!"

<< --------------------------------------------------- >>

After dinner and a few more rounds of Smash, Mori and you had tucked both boys into bed for the night.

You stretched your arms high into the air with a hum, "I should probably start walking home."

You felt Yaku latch onto your back, his chin resting on your shoulder and his strong arms pulling you into his chest.

"Nope you're staying here, I don't want you walking home this late."

You chuckled at him and leaned into his hold, he's always looking out for you.

"Ok...that means we're gonna go cuddle in your room, right?"

"Duh"

Being curled up with Mori was one of the best things on earth. Everything about the action was soft and warm; the embodiment of comfort.

"I love your brothers but they really are a handful."

"Try living with them," Yaku responded dryly.

You slapped his shoulder lightly causing him to chuckle at you.

You sighed, enjoying the feeling of Mori tracing random shapes on your back, and nuzzled further into his chest.

"How did Volleyball with Shiori go?"

"It was fun. He's not that bad of a receiver, though I think he'd make a better setter than a libero."

You hummed and placed a kiss on his jaw, "He does have the aspects of a good setter in him, liberos need to be a bit aggressive and crazy to throw themselves around and receive."

"Wow thanks babe," he deadpanned causing you to giggle at him.

"I loooove you~"

"Yeah, whatever you say," Yaku rolled his eyes then tickled your sides changing your giggles to full-on laughter. You shifted and twitch in feeble attempts to escape Yaku's grasp.

"OK OK IM SORRY, Y-YOU MADE YOUR POINT!!"

He stopped his attack and watched you with a soft look as you calmed down. That's when a sliver of light cut through the room like a knife making both You and Mori look towards the door.

"Oniisan...we heard a scary noise outside," Yuji stood in the doorway with Shiori behind him clinging to the back of his shirt.

Mori sat up, he may complain that his baby brothers were annoying but he still loved them with all his heart and couldn't stand to see them upset.

"Do you guys wanna stay with us tonight? (Y/n)-chan and I will make sure nothing scary comes to snatch you away"

Both boys nodded and rushed over to Yaku's bed; their brother was like a beacon of light and the bed a safe house, the childlike fear of standing in the dark room unprotected lapped at their minds.

You all had to squeeze to fit onto the bed but eventually, everyone got situated and relaxed. Both kids laid between you and Mori; Shiori was clinging to your waist with his face pressed into your stomach and Yuji was facing Mori hugging his arm.

Both Yuji and Shiori fell asleep instantly once in the comfort of You and Yaku.

You ran a hand through Shiori's wavy hair, you looked up to find Yaku watching you; he looked starstruck, an almost loopy smile on his face and a warm glow in his eyes. He reached over Yuji and Shiori and grabbed onto your free hand, his thumb ran up and down the back of it prompting you to close your eyes and start to drift off.

Everything was warm and cozy, nothing but the distant chirps of crickets and the soft breathing of the two sleeping boys filled your senses; the feeling of safety and protection evident in the air.

This single moment in time was better than any date Yaku could take you on.

[willgrahymn]

Crushing Fear

wow can you believe I’m posting one of my fics on tumblr? me neither.

Tags: prinxiety, love confessions, some point close after FWSA, flower language, some swearing, and light angst but mostly fluff (oh and I throw shade at Janus).

Summary: Virgil didn't even remember how long he had spent repressing his dumb crush, but with Thomas falling in love, it felt harder to ignore the feelings welling up in his chest. All he knew was that he couldn't admit it out loud. Luckily for him, Roman was a romantic who couldn't stand to let a chance at love go uninvited, even if he didn't always feel deserving of it. 

Word count: 3334

I’ll reblog with ao3 link since I know tumblr is dumb about it :)

There were a lot of things Virgil loved about Roman. He loved the way Roman would push back his hair whenever he caught a glimpse of himself or felt nervous and he loved the way it always fell in his face again. He loved the way his eyes lit up when Virgil asked about a show or a musical he knew the prince liked. To be honest, it was hard to think of something he didn't love. Even things he once thought were annoying had become endearing to him.

It didn’t matter. He had a reputation to at least try to maintain, he’d already gone so damn soft around the others since the light sides and Thomas came to get him back and Roman made that sweet little speech in the darkness of his room.

“You make us better.” It was like a song he played on repeat. At the time, Roman was the last person he expected to convince him that this could be his home – his family – but somehow he did. He may have been a jerk early on, but maybe, Virgil thought, he really was a knight in shining armor. Roman was more like him than he once thought; using fake confidence to cover up insecurities was nothing new.

And now, years later, here he was lying in bed like a yearning gay fool with music that wasn’t loud enough to block out his thoughts. He figured his little crush would be something that he could just hide away until it wasn’t even there. That plan was failing horribly though, especially when Roman could steal his breath by just looking at him. He didn't know how to handle feelings that felt bigger than himself.

Would it be smart to try something now? Probably not. What would he even do? Roman always talked of big, grand gestures that could literally and figuratively sweep one off their feet. Virgil didn’t consider himself good at plenty of things, and wooing someone like he was in a movie happened to be on the list. The farthest he'd gotten with confrontation was making Thomas talk to Nico, all because he couldn't stand to see Roman so heartbroken. He could feel the darkness below his eyes lighten to that embarrassingly glittery purple at the memory of how proud Roman was.

But Roman was Creativity and had his own little kingdom in the imagination. Virgil was sure that if he wanted a boyfriend he could just make the man of his dreams who would do anything and everything for him without the slightest hesitation. It seemed existence wasn’t fair like that.

He could just barely hear a knock sounding at the door, Virgil's eyes immediately darting over to where the sound had come. He debated whether or not he should respond. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like his friends, but his same old avoidant tendencies from before never went away.

“Virgil?” Roman asked. His voice making Virgil freeze and want to melt away at the same time. “Are you awake?”

Fuck, shit, some other words Patton would disapprove of. What time was it? 1:30? He couldn’t blame Roman for assuming he was still out, especially since it was the truth not too long ago. He almost felt sorry for his sleep schedule, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. No matter how hard Logan tried to help he always found himself digging through the kitchen at 5 in the morning, and not because he was an early riser. He paused his music, hanging his headphones on his headboard. Listening to Sally’s Song for the 17th time could wait for later.

He heard Roman laugh, and it felt like roses.

“That’s alright. If anyone here knows anything about beauty sleep, it’s me. The glasses gays are insisting that I awaken the beast though, so you better at least have something on before I barge in.”

Virgil wasn’t sure if Roman was talking to himself or knew he was being heard. He just burrowed deeper under his covers. He didn't want Roman to find him awake and think he was ignoring him, even if it was kind of the truth.

The door creaked. It sounded like something from a shitty horror movie. The heavy footsteps didn’t make it any more calming either. Roman was never this quiet. He refused to open his eyes, even as his blanket was pulled away from his face. He couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as he felt cool air shock his skin.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m the actor here. Your eyes were closed too tight, for one thing,”

Virgil sighed, opening his eyes and squinting at the light. “I thought you were here to wake me up, not give me acting lessons.”

“Good morning to you too, Mourning Glory. It’s not my fault if you want to hide away all day, I’m just giving tips on being more realistic.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, biting the inside of his lip to resist smiling. Wanting to stay calm as if he knew what he was doing.

“You’ve teased me about being a vampire before. Can’t I play the part?”

“Oh, trust me, you’re perfect for the role. Sadly for you, there are two very insistent Sides saying you have to be a real functioning part of the mind, so unless you want me to carry you out there and make a whole scene, you better come down on your own.”

Virgil sighed, rolling onto his back as his eyes adjusted to the light. The two stared at each other. Testing each other. Not getting out of bed never sounded more tempting.

He gave in, rambling. “Sure, okay, whatever.” He sighed, reaching out and taking hold of Roman’s hand, letting the prince pull him upright. Whether it was he or Roman who ended up bringing them so close was something he could stay up late thinking about later. Now wasn’t the time to focus on rough palms or scarred skin that he once bandaged up while cursing out the ever-so-reckless Roman for sneaking out on quests, leaving Virgil to hunt him down with nothing but adrenaline and a certain level of knowingness in his dread.

He tried to bite back a yawn. His eyes widening at the warm feeling of a hand pressed to his face, of a thumb brushing lightly over his cheekbone. It wasn’t unwelcome, to be honest, he could probably fall back asleep just like this. He’d be okay waking up every morning if they were like this. If the romantic side offered it. If Virgil would allow himself to accept and experience it.

“How long have you been up?”

“Anywhere between 20 minutes to 2 hours. I don’t really know.”

Roman smiled, betraying the worried look in his eyes. It was probably just the effect of his room, that’s what Virgil hoped it was anyway. He tried not to show any disappointment when Roman’s hand fell to the bed.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Virgil continued, “just let me take care of my makeup first.”

Roman’s eyes trailed him as he got up and moved over towards his desk in the corner of the room, flicking on the light as he went by. Why is he fucking staring?

“While I’m here, I was wondering if you’d care to join me for a quest this evening? Or maybe we could throw a ball for the mind palace? I know it’s not your thing, but I thought it might be fun? Or y’know, something else more low-key.”

“Uh, yeah you know I’m not big on big things,” Virgil replied, looking over to the prince picking at a loose thread on the cuffs of his sleeves. “You know if you want to hang out you can just ask, you don't need some extravagant event going on to get me alone with you.”

Roman nodded, not seeming any calmer than before. Virgil's brows furrowed, worries flowed through him as if it were his blood. He didn't want to make Roman talk if he didn't want to, but god was it nerve-racking.

At the very least, it seemed like he wouldn't be putting on any more black eyeshadow to try and hide its changes.

Roman, on the other hand, decided not to question why the Side no longer seemed interested in putting his makeup on, and being grateful for the fact Virgil took advantage of the fact they could conjure themselves into different outfits rather than changing right then and there.

The two stayed there, an awkward silence taking over the room before a crash sounded from the living room.

“We should probably go.”

Virgil simply nodded, pulling his jacket tighter around as he followed Roman out of the room.

Luckily, the crash had only come from Patton knocking over a stack of DVDs, CDs, and a few other things. Another lost-glasses incident. It was a miracle nothing got broken.

The day itself would have felt completely normal if not for the fact Roman kept looking at him. Starting off as unsure as they did in his room, and slowly brightening like he had finally figured out a plothole in one of his stories. It was even more unsettling when he realized Roman was no longer there, vanished off to do god knows what.

So Virgil spent the next couple of hours trying to ignore the feeling of his fears eating him from the inside out like a moth to a sweater. He wouldn’t mind the holes if they didn’t leave him so uncomfortable. But then again, maybe that was fitting for his aesthetic. Torn-up shirts and jeans to pair with his torn-up emotions. At least he found solace in the darkness of his outfits.

It didn’t take long to get bored of the mundane mind palace.

Maybe I should take Roman up on that quest idea. He thought, his foot bounced, hanging over the side of the couch. Even if it wasn’t in his list of Shit Virgil Can Do Without Fucking Up, it was better than sitting around and waiting for nothing.

Virgil got up silently, giving a quick two-finger salute to Logan who had started reading some new detective novel before he sunk out. Appearing again before Roman’s door. Maybe he was just self-conscious, but it looked bigger than it was. Like behind it would be some hidden treasure that he finally reached.

It wasn’t entirely wrong. Roman was certainly someone to be treasured, even if he made mistakes. He just wished the other Sides would help him understand it.

He held his breath as he knocked, jolting back when it swung open almost instantly.

“You’re here!” Roman exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“Uh, yeah. I thought I’d take you up on your offer from earlier… if it’s still up, anyway.”

“Oh! Yeah, totally!” The prince tugged at his collar, not making eye contact. Virgil couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prince's giddiness. “I was just working on something if you’d care to see it?”

“You know I wanna see whatever you come up with, even if it’s some rewrite of Frozen.”

Roman bounced again, holding his hands out, palms up. He looked at Virgil with an emotion he couldn’t name, but it made him feel anxious in a good kind of way. Not anything like the dread he was used to. He placed his hands on Roman’s, and it wasn’t till they were sinking out and into the imagination that he realized it was the same kind of feeling from when Nico first texted Thomas about meeting up again. He held Roman’s hands a little tighter.

When he opened his eyes, they were surrounded by flowers.

“Woah…”

“Do you like it? I had to sneak into Logan’s room and borrow a few of his books.”

“I– yeah. It’s beautiful. And don’t worry, I won’t snitch.” He stepped away, wandering the circular little garden. He could only recognize so many. “Didn’t know you had a thing for landscaping.”

“I try my best. Honestly, I’m just happy neither of us has allergies.”

“Gosh, you’re such a dork.” Virgil laughed, petting the petals of a rose. Not paying attention to the way Roman watched him and shifted his weight every so often nor how warm his cheeks had become. “Do you know what any of them mean?”

“I do, but I think if I tell you, you’ll realize how predictable I am.”

“Go for it.”

“Well, roses are pretty well known. The red ones are anyway. Love, passion, romance, and courage. Things like that.” Roman said, walking closer. His boots clicking against the walkway’s pavement.

He stood close by yet just far enough for Virgil not to feel like he was being dissected under his gaze. It was an unreasonable thing to think after all the time they had spent becoming friends, he knew that. Yet part of him continued to scream that one day Roman would look at him and find out how horrible he thought himself to be and never want to be around him again. Maybe that was why he refused to confess just how much he liked Roman. It was a weight that crushed his chest every day yet made him feel dizzyingly light.

It was all too complicated.

“What about the purple ones?”

“It kind of varies by shade, but most of the time it’s about love at first sight or enchantment. A lot of the flowers here have to do with that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, should’ve been able to figure that one out myself.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s no matter, I just want to make sure you understand what they mean.” He looked to Virgil, again with that unnamed emotion. “You do get what I’m trying to say, right?”

For a moment, he hoped he did.

“Uh, yeah? Princey, I get it, you’re a hopeless romantic. You don’t have to spell it out for me.” He bit the inside of his lip, then asked. “What are they for?”

Roman looked at him with what he could only see as sympathy.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really do think you need it spelled out.”

Virgil scoffed, going to argue before he was cut off.

“First,” Roman began, reaching for Virgil’s hand, “You take him by the hand. That’s as far as you got before we both started screaming, anyway. So I suppose I’ll just have to wing it from here. I know I haven’t always been the best to you. I know I still make mistakes, and I really don’t want this to be one of them.”

“Roman–”

“I’m not finished. Virgil, out of all the other’s, you’re always the one who notices when I’m upset. You’re always the one who lets me bitch about Deceit without saying I was wrong for trusting him and then wrong for not. Really, you’re the only one I can bitch about the dark sides to, period. Logan is so reserved about it, and Patton is, well, he’s Patton. He tries to see the good in everyone.”

Roman paused, catching his breath. Virgil thought it best not to speak. He didn’t think he’d even be able to if he wanted.

“What I’m getting is that I trust you. I trust you because you’re my best friend and you listen to what I say even if it’s dumb. Because when I don’t feel like talking you're always down to just watch classic Disney movies and fill in coloring books. I know you don't realize it, but you do a hell of a lot more good than you believe, and I love you for that. You don’t have to say it back or even feel the same, I know you’re pretty reluctant about it. I just need you to know.”

Virgil stared at him, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of love. Roman had said ‘I love you’ before, but not like this. What the fuck do you even do when your crush confesses they like you, more so, that you aren’t obligated to like them back? Complicated, and now surreal.

“You really mean it? All of it??”

“Of course I do, my Columbine Cutie! I could never lie to someone about love, I hope you know that.” Roman replied. Waving his hand as he conjured a mix of red and purple columbines, tucking them gently behind Virgil’s ear. Both knowing it was the truth, that Roman wouldn’t subject someone to such a thing because he knew how it felt.

But he still trusted Virgil with his love all the same. Trusted that it wouldn’t be taken advantage of or used against him.

“How long have you known?”

“You know, I think I fell for you far before I knew it.”

Virgil huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I uh… I think it was the same for me. Falling for you, that is.” God, it felt so weird to say it. Good, too. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to say. I never thought I’d end up here. I care about you too. I love you, I mean.”

And Roman… Roman just started to beam, shining like the sun as Virgil tripped over his words. He bounced, hands waving as he did. Despite his lingering fear, Virgil couldn’t stop the excitement Roman radiated and the wonder of it all from seeping in under his skin, a feeling like vibrations that he could only try to shake out. And there were hands cupping his face and there were words he didn’t hear. He still knew what they asked. “Fucking yes.” was all he could bring himself to give as a response before Roman’s lips were on his.

Strawberry chapstick and the faint scent of cherry blossom perfume were all that went through his head, it was the only thing that really could. He held onto Roman’s uniform like if he let go it would all disappear. Another dream reminding him of what he thought he couldn’t have.

When Roman pulled away and Virgil opened his eyes, he was still there.

He was real. Everything that had happened was real. He couldn’t help but giggle at how fantastical it was.

Roman brushed his bangs away, just enough to fully show his eyes. “Your eyeshadow changed again,” he announced, bouncing on his heels once again. Virgil groaned, turning away. “It’s a good look for you. Especially with how much you blush, my Lavender Love.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s adorable.”

Virgil knew from the grin on Roman’s face that it had only intensified.

“Whatever. I just– for what it’s worth– I appreciate it. All of this. I’d probably die never telling you shit about how I felt if you didn’t do it first.”

Roman softened, “Maybe, or maybe you’d end up pushing yourself like you did to Thomas. Either way, I’m happy with it if you are.”

Virgil nodded, the two going silent. Roman rocked back and forth still quietly bouncing, probably thinking of what to say next.

Slowly, Virgil opened his arms, smiling nervously to his crush– lover– whatever they were. He wasn’t all that open to touch, but Roman was so far off from everything else it didn’t matter. The prince smiled, pulling Virgil close to him and pressing a kiss to his magenta-colored hair.

“I’m happy to be your knight as long as you want me to be. Whatever it is that gets thrown our way, I’ll fight for you as you have for me. You deserve to shine every day like you are now.”

“Jesus, Princey. You already made your dramatic love declaration, but... thank you. I want you to be happy too.”

The two held each other, and for the moment, everything was okay. No dark sides, no fear, no challenging life debates. It was unescapable, of course, but it didn’t matter. They could survive and fight this hell of a world. They could make the other realize how lovable they were. Because they had each other.

[scone-lover]

Happy Birthday to Holding Out For a Hero!!! ❤️

art by @subparselkie

I published the first chapter of my longest and most popular fic just about a year ago! And I bet you always wanted to see some shitty outlines. Right? Just giving the people what they want. My brain is chaos and now you all have to be subject to it. Strap in, boys. 😂 Everything’s below the cut!

Read Holding Out for a Hero on AO3

This fic was born because I saw a tumblr post about a hero and villain who are roommates and I just had to Snowbazzify it. I had so many random ideas in my brain, and I’d been engaging with fan content for the CO fandom for a few months now.

So I started off by opening a blank document and writing the Prologue, featuring Shep. I had a few basic facts in mind: Shepard’s a reporter, Simon’s a hero, Baz is a villain, Mage is an evil mayor. And that’s. Literally it. I made it up as I went along. I actually still do that with fics, even though I do try to outline in more detail now—I have to write a scene or two that’s been bouncing around in my head to get a feel for the story, then I can give it a direction.

The document is 337 pages on google docs, LOL. 

Here’s the first ever set of notes I had. I wrote this on March 29, 2020, directly after typing out the Prologue! 

Like I said, absolute chaos. The third Simon bullet point originally said something like “also I’m a superhero and only Penny knows,” then the following day I changed it to “but he’s so handsome? what do???” 

I didn’t publish the prologue until writing 5-6 additional chapters, but I think the only major change was going from Baz being “The Vampire” to just “Vampire.”

Chapter 1 was originally called “not a bloody avenger” before I decided to do the rhyming thing. I actually decided that because I wrote “counter spray and earl grey” down for chapter 2, unintentionally rhyming it, and then @ashspren-writes was like, “you should make them all rhyme”... so I did. 😂 For 25 more chapters.

I have a section labeled “quickie backgrounds” in which I finally sat down halfway through writing Chapter 2 (the blade/vamp fight) and said to myself, okay, maybe they should have backstories or something. Or like, reasons for being the hero and villain. Right, yeah, those would be good to make this into a coherent story. In the first version of that, Simon was a sports coach on the side, not a baker, and Baz was an English teacher. LOL. 

Once I had all that, I literally just wrote for four days. There’s a weird kind of magic to your first-ever fic for a fandom. All your ideas and thoughts and wishes for these characters comes to a head as you suddenly have an outlet for the first time. It’s why I think people’s first works are often their best or most creative or most profound. The first couple chapters took some time and a couple 1am epiphanies, but once I got into a rhythm it was quick going. I wrote a lot of it in a linear manner, but after writing the first Simon/Baz scene (watching the news together in the flat), I doubled back and added Simon going to Penny’s house after meeting the Mage so that I could work her in as a character earlier.

Fast forward to April 5, I had 5-ish chapters written? I thought this fic would have like... 10 total. And be less than 20k. Haha. Ha. I asked @ashspren-writes to beta read for me - I’d been bouncing ideas off her since the beginning - and then I started brainstorming titles. 

The list actually started with that second one. It took a whole 24 hours to decide on the final title. 😂 I thought it might be too cheesy. But hey, it worked out -- now I can’t open AO3 without the damn song getting stuck in my head. 

I worked a LOT with my friend @ashspren-writes on this fic - we were friends long before fandom, and she was the only person I knew at the time who had read CO and was involved in the fandom. I didn’t even have a tumblr at this point, I interacted mostly through Instagram and AO3!

On April 6, right before I posted, I realized that if I was going to actually put this on AO3 I should probably know where the story was going. So I made sure Chapters 1-6 were complete, then I wrote one bullet point per chapter up until 12 or so -- you can read those below.

Then I texted ashspren THIS mess:

Some silly notes:

Then I have a section that says “Why do they even have roommates?” because it was a few chapters in and I hadn’t justified richboy Baz and superhero Simon... living together. Cool cool cool

I also did this cool little writing experiment I want to share. Remember that line in Fangirl that’s like—“Once Cath wrote what she thought was a swordfight, and Wren turned it into a love scene.” (Or maybe it was the other way around? LOL.) Anyway, there’s swordfights in this, AND love scenes, so I wanted to do a play on that for two alternate ways Simon might figure it out.

I have a huge Deleted Section in which I wrote an alternate version of Simon and Baz finding out about their secret identities. I have one version where Baz figures it out first—it’s a very tropey yet angsty scene where Simon comes home totally wrecked from a fight, and Baz realizes as he’s helping with the wounds that he caused them. I actually like it a lot, but it ended up not quite fitting with the vibe of the fic (and I rather like them finding out through kissing better). :) I also had an idea where Simon figures it out because Vampire smells like cedar and bergamot, but it really just wasn’t interesting enough. 😂

Now onto... Outlines. 

I say that hesitantly because I think these are literally a disgrace to outlines everywhere. These are the baby ones I wrote on April 6 right before posting. Some are more detailed than others, clearly...

Gotta live up to my username somehow. 

We do love to see it. ​

I love this next one: 😂 CHAOS, SCONEY.

THEN, I wrote this as a very long text to ashspren, when I realized no sconey, this is not going to be under 20k words. LOL. 

And then I did A Dumb Thing and I put it on AO3, having absolutely NO CLUE WHERE THE STORY WAS GOING. 😂 

This is my favorite heading on the document.

Another one of my favorite notes in there.

This next part wasn’t even divided into chapters yet, it’s just a word vomit. I’m so sorry you have to read this mess.

Hahaha, once upon a time there was angst in this story. 😂 

And then I realized my true calling: bakery fluff.

Then and only then, I actually decided to divide into those things called Chapters. This is the point where I made the admission to mr scone (boyfriend, not husband lol, we just call him that) that I write gay fanfiction, whoops, and can he please help me because he’s a HUGE DC comics fan and knows everything. And of course, he was super chill about it, and he did. He really did. He’s the genius behind Egghead!!! And also the entire Mage-Humdrum-Supercomputer/Politics plot. I’m serious. I did none of that.

I can’t even say I’m trying anymore. “Flort”??? I AM LITERALLY NOT TRYING.

Why yes sconey, so very specific. 😂 

This is what qualifies as a “good” outline for me, that heading was just for my betas. Isn’t it fabulous to see that some of this actually made it in and I’m capable of planning in advance? 😂 

Get ready for the shock of your life, though -- I actually have a SUUUUPER detailed outline for the two finale chapters. Because, well, it’s the finale. Wrapping up loose ends does actually require planning, WHO KNEW. Also I’d been writing and posting for a couple months at this point and it had been several more weeks in quarantine so maybe I’d regained some sense of reality? It’s like two pages but still shittily written, so I’ll just share a couple tidibits.

That bullet point is extraordinarily cracky BUT actually, Baz shooting up from the cloud like an awesome fucking hot dramatic person was one of the very first scenes I envisioned for this fic :D 

I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my writing brain! It’s a terrifying place. I love all of you that say Holding Out For a Hero is a well-crafted masterpiece, but respectfully, no ❤️ 

(Though I swear I AM super, super happy with how it turned out - it’s still my favorite thing I’ve ever written. Read it here!!!)

[hawkeyedflame]

#2: "Don't look down", with your favorite Roy/Riza? :3

#2: "Don't look down" with Royai Rating: K | Words: 1,340 AO3

It's not like it was weird.

Formal events call for dancing, and as Roy skimmed his eyes across the floor he saw mingling of ranks at every level; to his right, Hughes swept Lieutenant Ross in a wide circle that flared the skirts of her dress, the two of them laughing as Armstrong spun Gracia with surprising deftness, boasting a gracefulness that belied his size. On his other side, General Grumman pulled a young woman Roy recognized as 2nd Lieutenant Rebecca Catalina in his wake, the former appearing rather devious while the Lieutenant herself seemed aggrieved.

"Ask her to dance, Mustang," Grumman whispered slyly in Roy's ear as he waltzed by. He leant away before Roy could react, but on his next pass he paused, hovering at Roy's shoulder. "It's not a good look for our prodigious lady-killer, now is it Colonel Mustang, to be at a gala unaccompanied? Even I've got the young Lieutenant here." Roy scowled and Grumman laughed heartily. Catalina caught his eye and raised a brow, smirking slightly. And then they were gone, whisked away into the sea of dancing soldiers.

Roy looked to the ceiling, said a quick prayer for grace, and craned his neck for his own men. There was 2nd Lieutenant Havoc, abandoning his customary cigarette for a chewed-up toothpick as he leaned in close to a pretty blonde, talking animatedly. And over there 2nd Lieutenant Breda sat with an elbow on the table and drink in hand, engrossed in some sort of banter with an officer Roy didn't recognize.

Finally, his eyes found Lieutenant Hawkeye, and far from the first time tonight, his breath caught at the sight of her. She leant casually against one of the tables, her long black dress slit just so at the thigh. The neckline plunged but one hand clung tightly to the cardigan draped about her shoulders, and Roy knew from the tension in her fingers that the back of the dress must be low-cut as well. Her golden hair spilled across her back and shoulders, soft curls bouncing as she talked. She seemed very interested in her conversation, but Roy was loath to stand around waiting for the general to mock him further, so he took a deep breath and crossed the room.

She saw him coming from the corner of her eye and turned her head towards him a fraction, but continued speaking. As he drew closer she sipped from her wine glass before placing it on the table behind her, and pushed herself off from her resting spot to greet him properly.

"Sir," she said, not saluting but maintaining her clipped professional tone of voice. Beside her, Roy was surprised to see she had been speaking to Fullmetal.

"Hawkeye," he greeted with a nod. "Fullmetal, I didn't see you there."

"Just stopping in Colonel," Edward replied warily, apparently too out of his element to rise to Roy's taunt. "Al said I should come for awhile but this sort of thing really isn't my gig."

"Well in that case, I hope you don't mind if I steal my subordinate for a dance?" Roy saw the lieutenant's head snap in his direction, but he kept his eyes trained on Edward's. The boy appraised him, his arched brows slowly flattening as a small smirk crossed his face.

"Sure, Colonel, you can have her." The words were laced with smugness, and Fullmetal raised his gloved automail hand dismissively as he turned away. "Try not to crush her toes. I'll see you around, Lieutenant." He walked off, leaving Roy's indignant retort to wither before it could leave his mouth. He watched as Edward disappeared into the crowd. You can have her.

Finally, Roy turned to his adjutant. She contemplated him silently, head tilted to meet his eyes, her expression carefully impassive. One hand still twisted in the fabric of her cardigan, while the other had come to grip her elbow, betraying her nerves as they shared a long gaze.

Roy broke the silence. "I know it's been a long time since we shared a dance, Lieutenant, but please don't tell me you've forgotten the steps."

"I'm afraid so, sir," she chuckled lightly, but tension rose in her shoulders at the admission.

"That's okay, I'll just show you again," Roy replied smoothly, offering his hand. She took it without hesitation, but her steps faltered as she followed him onto the dancefloor.

Roy turned towards her, guiding her hand to his shoulder before sliding his own down to settle at her waist. His other hand found hers and he twined their fingers, pulling her closer but maintaining a chaste distance. He took a step and she mirrored him hesitantly, her eyes darting to the floor.

"Don't look down," Roy commanded. "Keep your eyes on me." Her head came up sharply and he met her stare somewhat breathlessly. But she obeyed, and they soon fell into a comfortable cadence, her body slipping a little closer with every step until they brushed with impropriety. Still, Roy held her gaze, glancing away only to steer them from other couples. Neither of them noticed that they had caught the attention of half the room.

She was close, so close and Roy could smell her rose-scented soap and the undertone of gunpowder that never washed away, he could see every long eyelash, feel the heat from her chest where it pressed against his. He studied her face intently and she closed her eyes, allowing him to guide her through their dance, a soft smile touching the corners of her lips. He could kiss her. He could--

Too quickly the music shifted to something livelier, and Riza opened her eyes, dropping her hand from where it had come to curl around the back of his neck. She splayed it across his chest, pushing lightly until Roy took a step back. Boldly, he lifted their twined hands and kissed hers lightly before letting go.

"Thank you for the dance, Roy," she murmured in a low voice, words meant only for him. She bit her lip lightly, staring at her hand on his chest.

"My pleasure, Lieutenant," he whispered back, watching wistfully as the curtain of professionalism fell back across her features at his warning. They broke apart when Rebecca Catalina stepped between them, her brown ringlets filling Roy's vision.

Rebecca grabbed her fellow lieutenant by the wrist. "Sorry Colonel, but this next dance is mine!" she chirped, turning to give Roy a wicked smirk. Before he could reply, she had dragged Hawkeye away and grabbed her by the face, pressing their foreheads together and speaking quickly.

Bewildered, Roy turned to find a seat and a drink, nearly leaping out of his skin when Hughes' voice cracked his left ear. "That was not very subtle, Roy," he chided without heat.

"God, don't sneak up on me like that," Roy yelped, rubbing his ear indignantly.

"When are you going to marry her?" Hughes pressed.

Roy rolled his eyes and walked away, knowing his friend was following without looking back. "You know that's not how things work around here," he said.

"It could be. Your state alchemist pay is enough that there's no need for her to work. She doesn't have to be your subordinate you know." Hughes was talking a little too loudly for comfort.

Roy stopped, closing his eyes in a prayer for patience. "It's not about money," he growled.

"Well, what is it then?" His best friend was quickly beginning to grate on already-raw emotions, and Roy gritted his teeth in irritation.

"Mind your own business, Hughes," he said, more forcefully than he intended. Hughes stared him down with narrowed green eyes for a long moment before smirking.

"For now," he agreed easily. "But just be careful, Roy. You two looked hopelessly in love out there."

Roy stared across the room, catching a glimpse of his lieutenant still trapped in her best friend's arms. She met his eye for a moment and his chest ached. With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I know."