#sorry to say I only have two brain cells to rub together these days

[jojo-schmo]

Don’t let him notice I blushed, don’t let him notice I blushed, don’t let him notice—

[mx-pastelwriting]

Cuddle Copy

John Price X GN! Reader

Summary: Having to wait out the enemies' transport, sleep was the only option. Lucky you have your teddy bear Price with you.

Warnings: Fluff, Established/Secret Relationship

-I heard Barry say that Price likes to read and I just had to write something.

Putting your gear down, your head snaps to John’s sighing, knowing he’ll have a hard time falling asleep. Always on guard on missions, never taking time to relax even at home, and dating for a year and a half, you’ve learned things about each other, like how he likes his tea and how you like to be cuddled.

All things cozy when you're home, but as soon as missions came, you had to be careful as he was your superior. You met outside the field but while in another unit before he had you transferred, making you both closer. Sometimes you talked that maybe Laswell could be open-minded enough, but never did you go through with it, but that didn’t stop your theory that she knew from the start.

Snapping from your thoughts, you came to watch John make his bed on the concert floor. Getting up, you started next to him, putting your water and light on as if it were your bedroom back home. Sitting down, you look over at his side; he had sat down before you already with a book in his hand that he’s read over a hundred times since you’ve been with him.

You put your radio in front of you, waiting for anything to come through. "I’ll take the first watch," he says, catching your attention as you look over at him, still in his book. "I’m not tired," you say before turning back and picking up the radio to tune it to the new channel.

"Come in Price and L/n" Laswell’s voice comes through with a bit of static: "Copy, Laswell, what do you have?" Your focus snaps as you feel John’s hand gently rub your back.

Your face feels hot as he moves under your shirt, touching your now-hot skin. "Transport is still on track; it’ll be there by morning. Make sure you two can still stand by then." As her words left the air, John’s hand stopped. She knew.

"H-How?" Was all you managed to say through your shock. Her laugh doesn’t make the room any less tense. "How could I not notice the way you two look at each other, there’s no doubt." You both were left dumbfounded, thinking you had hidden well. "Do the others know?"

"Doubt it; I don’t think they could put two brain cells together to figure you out." John huffed a laugh, agreeing with her. "You’re safe, you two; stay close; it’s going to be a cold night." Was all she said before it returned to static.

Turning to John with a smile, you commanded, "You heard her; open up." A smirk appears on his face as he opens his arm, letting you lay on his chest while he holds his book open with the other. Kissing your head before his warm arms cuddled you tighter.

His voice was a bit tired as he started to read to you, making your eyes heavy. John’s voice is leading you into sleep, your secret still safe.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[sleepysnk]

a/n: i really wanted to write something for hanma because i missed him a lot </3 so i hope you guys enjoy this!! i felt like something fluffy would work with him this time, so <3.

pairings: hanma shuji x fem!reader

warnings: some brief angst, fluff leading to smut, mentions of violence (not towards reader), established relationship, mentions of food, brief jealousy mentions, nsfw, vanilla sex, use of pet names (baby, babydoll, doll), light choking if you squint, breeding kink, creampie, after care, fluffy hanma.

synopsis: you and hanma had been together for two years. he never thought in a million years that you would both last this long, so he wanted to do something special for you on your special day. you deserved the world, and he was going to be the one to give you it. he had many ideas in mind, but the main one was showing you how much he loved you.

his always and forever ft. hanma shuji

Hanma Shuji was truly blessed to have someone like you in his life. Let alone having you as his girlfriend.

Today was your two year anniversary. It was a date that was imprinted on his brain from the moment you said yes to being his. He was so thrilled to have such a great woman in his life. You were like an angel sent from heaven itself to bless him with your love. You made him such a happier man, and your presence as a whole came at such a difficult moment in his life. In a way, he could say that you saved him from doing the worst to himself or even others.

Hanma had done plenty of bad things in his life. He had fought men who had a debt to the gang he was in, he often drank until his vision was completely blurred, and he even severed ties with family that tried their best to do good for him. He was truly lost before you came. He spent his days wandering his large apartment without a single person to occupy it with him. It was lonely and he despised that feeling more than he would like to admit. He desired someone to share his place with and have someone to come home to every night. Sure, he had hooked up with plenty of women beforehand. Some of them were great and even potential candidates for that lifestyle, but the others were only into him for a cash grab and that was it. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to be with a woman who only saw him as a piggy bank for whatever shopping spree they wanted to go on. Hanma wanted peace and one person he could rely on, but at the time, he knew that wouldn’t happen. He was a thug, a criminal, no one would want a man like him.

But then, everything changed the day he came across you.

Hanma had a very long day. He was exhausted with all he had to do, so he decided to make a stop at a cafe he had visited many times before. It was sort of busy for a late afternoon day, but that never really provoked the man that much. He paid for his coffee and waited patiently behind a few people. He became distracted by his cell phone because Kisaki had been in his messages for some reason asking about a recent incident that took place. Hanma was about to respond, but when piping hot coffee began to scald his chest that message was discarded.

He looked up, feeling furious about what had just gone down. However, those feelings had disappeared when he made eye contact with you. You were standing there with a very apologetic facial expression. The coffee you once held in your right hand was now splattered onto the floor, and some of it had gotten into Hanma’s plain white shirt. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment and you wanted to melt into the floor with how shitty you felt. He was a complete stranger, an intimidating one at that. He was taller than you by a few inches, and he honestly had a scary look in his eye that would send any man or woman running for their lives.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there! Oh, god.. let me help clean you up..”

Hanma was stunned at your beauty. He wasn’t even angry about his suit anymore. All his brain was fixated on was you and how your fingertips felt rubbing the thin napkins against his chest and his abdomen. You looked like you were about to burst into tears from how afraid you looked. He began to feel guilty for shooting you such a glare, because you genuinely seemed very sorry for such actions. 

“No worries.. thank you for your help, doll.”

When the pet name slipped from his lips you froze on the spot. Someone as attractive as him was calling you that? It felt almost hard to believe at the time, but you were instantly relieved to hear that he wasn’t angry with you over the accident you created. Hanma honestly began to feel bad for you, though. Your coffee was spilled all over the tiled floor, and many people were still staring at the two of you with these wide eyes that bored into both of your heads. He often hated attention like that. Some people just didn’t know how to mind their own business nowadays. It was a small mistake. It wasn’t like you had a breakdown in the middle of the cafe and threw your coffee at him.

“Let me buy you a new coffee..”

“What? N-No! That was my fault-“

“Doll, it’s fine. I have nowhere else to be and all I need is your order.”

To be honest, you hesitated at such a gesture from the mysterious man. Neither of you knew each other, but he was being so kind to you yet you almost burned his skin with the beverage you swore you were holding onto with all your strength. However, you agreed and gave him your coffee order. He simply went to the barista and paid for it, but you were a bit confused why he was taking so long to come back. You wondered about his motives, but when he grabbed his own coffee and waved as he passed you, you felt disappointed. You thought that maybe you would spark a conversation with him, but alas, that didn’t seem very likely.

Once your coffee was done, you walked past several customers and grabbed it off of the counter. Though, the cup wasn’t blank, and there was something written on the side of it.

“Call me sometime <3 let me buy you an actual drink- Hanma Shuji.”

That’s how your romance had blossomed to what it was today. Hanma wasn’t expecting you to call him that night after the whole incident at the cafe, but he was relieved to hear your voice. The two of you chatted all night about anything that came about in the conversation. Although you didn’t reach very personal levels, Hanma was very interested in knowing things about you. He asked about what you did for a living, if you had any siblings, what kind of food you liked, etc. Talking to you made him so happy and he was so excited to hear that you wanted to go on a date with him at some point. Hearing those words made sunlight shine into his heart, clearing the storm clouds that had surrounded it for such a long time. He knew moving at such a pace could result in some negative reactions, but you seemed different. He was well aware that it sounded cliché of him to say such a thing, but it was how he felt about you. He couldn’t deny that one bit.

Weeks turned to months and eventually two years later you were both still together.

You had zero regrets about saying yes to Hanma all those years ago. He treated you like a princess and spoiled you rotten with whatever you wanted. He was a bit reluctant to let you in at first, considering he had been abandoned many times before by different women, but you assured him that you were sticking around for the long run no matter what. You got to see the real Hanma Shuji, and it was honestly beautiful. He may have had some flaws, but you did too. You were both able to work through those things and be patient with one another. There may have been a few rough days and some fights, but even through that you both fell in love with each other. 

You were able to change Hanma for the better. He was so happy to have found you, and being by your side benefited him in so many ways. He couldn’t ever imagine himself being with another woman besides you. He was fully convinced that he had found his soulmate.

He couldn’t believe that two years had passed. He had so many things planned for the two of you that day, and he couldn’t wait to get started with you by his side. 

The morning began with Hanma making you some delicious breakfast in bed. He was not the greatest cook, but living on his own for almost ten years taught him a lot about cooking and having to rely on home meals rather than ordering take out from the nearest restaurant. He made you some eggs and some really fluffy pancakes with your favorite fruit on top. It was adorable and waking up to the aroma of food made you so happy. The breakfast was delicious and Hanma’s heart warmed when he saw your pretty smile flash when you began to eat your pancakes. He knew they were a favorite of yours. Sometimes you’d only eat his, nobody else’s. It made him feel proud as your boyfriend that he was able to make you happy with his food. 

“Happy Anniversary, babydoll. I love you..”

In the afternoon, he took you out for lunch. He even took you out shopping afterwards to splurge on whatever you wanted. It was adorable to see you walking around the many stores with different items in your hands. You often told Hanma that you didn’t need his money to make you happy, but he insisted that you use it. He made more than enough for all the bills to be paid, so it was no problem at all if he wanted to spoil you for a bit. Despite that, you rarely ever spent more than you needed. You did live a rather comfortable lifestyle, but there was that side of you that wanted to consider Hanma’s feelings as well. 

Once you both arrived home, Hanma was excited to make dinner for you both. There was a toss up between going out and eating at another restaurant somewhere downtown, but you told him you were fine with whatever he wanted to do. He took it upon himself to learn a new recipe for you. He worried he would totally light the kitchen on fire if he wasn’t careful with what he was doing, but it had all gone completely smoothly and he was proud of himself. You were also quite surprised to see that he had been successful in making your supper. Hanma hadn’t always been a fan of working in the kitchen, so seeing him do such a great job made you so happy. The food also smelled divine. Your mouth was watering the second you sat down at the table to eat it. Hanma was a bit worried that you may not like it or you would have a negative reaction to his cooking, but much to his surprise, your face lit up with happiness when the flavors reached your tongue. It was so great. Pride swelled inside his chest when you started smiling at him and looking at him with love in your eyes.

“This is so good, baby! You really outdid yourself with this!”

God, it was like he was falling in love with you all over again.

The feelings Hanma had for you were so overwhelming he could almost break down and cry from how intense it was. He never imagined he would be cooking a meal for a woman he had been dating for two years. He didn’t think the day would ever come that you would move in with him and sleep beside him in the same bed every single night. He felt so lucky to have found someone as great as you even though he had been surrounded with darkness for so long. You helped him escape and surrounded him with such light that the abyss he was once in seemed to be a forgotten memory. 

After dinner was finished, you both retired to your bedroom where Hanma found himself wanting to give you one more anniversary present. 

Himself.

Hanma was hovering above your naked body. His cock was splitting your cunt apart with every rut of his hips. You two had been at it for quite a bit. He had kept up with quite a slow and tender pace. Hanma told himself he wasn’t going to rush such an intimate moment with you on a day like that. He had plenty of time with you to make it nasty and rough, but right now, all he was focusing on was you. Your pretty voice called for him and made his cock twitch. He had sex with you many times prior to this moment, but you never failed to amaze him with your angelic beauty. Your delicate skin, gorgeous face, there was so much to love about you. He just couldn’t keep his eyes off of your form that was taking him so well. He could make love to you like that all day if he really wanted to. There was nothing to get bored of.

Your nails clawed into the skin of his shoulders. Marks covered his flesh, but he didn’t bat a single eye at that. You were in utter bliss underneath your boyfriend. He never failed to make you feel good. Hanma knew your body better than anybody else and he made you feel so much ecstasy. “Ah..! Hanma! So good..” you made eye contact with the man above you. Your eyes were somewhat blurry from the pleasure that he allowed to ripple through your body.

Hanma was sweating. A few strands of his dual colored hair clung to his forehead from the moisture that had collected itself on his skin. He loved whenever his name slipped off your tongue like he was a prayer. Hanma couldn’t hide the smirk that appeared on his features when he heard your whines for him. You were so beautiful and good for him. You deserved all the pleasure that was coming to you tonight. “Yeah, keep sayin’ my name, baby. Fuck.. I love you so much..” he placed his hand around the base of your throat, holding you in place so he could stare at your pretty face while he thrusted up into you. 

You let your jaw fall slack as the euphoria you felt increased with every movement. He reached spots inside of your pussy that made you see stars within your vision. Hanma couldn’t believe that a whole stupid coffee incident allowed him to meet someone like you. He always imagined that he would reach the end of his life alone without a single person to share himself with, but having you completely changed that outlook for him. Your presence alone lit up his life and allowed him to see things through a different perspective. You truly blessed him more than you realized, and he couldn’t believe that you didn’t leave him in those two years you’ve been together. Hanma sometimes thought he didn’t deserve you. He imagined at some point you would find someone better than him and you’d leave him, but you didn’t and he was so happy that you gave him a chance.

Sure, you had your ugly days, but even through that you both worked on those issues and continued loving one another without having a second thought about it.

Hanma’s free hand went to intertwine with your own. He leaned down to press his forehead against you and allowed eye contact to be connected between you both. His honey eyes were blown with lust and staring at you with such admiration you could melt from just one glance from him. You smiled when your eyes flickered around his handsome face. There was no one cuter than Hanma Shuji. He was perfect in every little aspect. 

He then kissed you, which took you by surprise. It was soft and gentle. His lips felt like you were kissing two soft pillows that you couldn’t pull away from. He was such a good kisser. It was one of the many things you loved about Hanma. His kisses could sweep you right off of your feet and you would grow weak in the knees whenever his lips brushed against yours. It was slow, but his tongue would occasionally brush against your bottom lip to try and gain access to your mouth. You obliged and allowed him in, deepening the kiss between you both. The pleasure was just too good. 

You gasped when he finally reached your g-spot, sending bolts of electricity along your belly. Hanma smirked in the kiss when that pretty noise escaped your lips. He had no problem discovering that delicious spot inside of you. He squeezed your throat slightly, but not hard enough to restrict your breathing. “Heh.. look at you, babydoll. You’re takin’ my cock so well..” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine from how hot his voice sounded in your ears. “Wanna cum, baby? You’re really fucking tight right now..”

Your orgasm was creeping upon you faster than you had expected, but nonetheless you craved it more than anything else. Your hands gripped Hanma’s shoulders tightly, fearing he might disappear from his spot between your legs. With every thrust, the pit in your belly grew larger and you became even more needy than before. “Y-Yes! Hanma, please..! ‘Need you!” you whined, sharply. 

Hanma fucking loved hearing how desperate you were for that release inside your gut. He then began to fuck you just a bit faster this time. It was nothing too aggressive or quick for your liking, but it was just enough to really wind you up. The noises slipping from your throat made him smirk and watch you with seduction. He loved you so much when you were like this. He realized that you were a goddess and nobody else would ever compare to you in any department. It didn’t matter if you left him at some point. Hanma Shuji would always be devoted to you at the end of the day. He was so deeply in love with you that it almost hurt him to not be by your side. 

You’d be the one he would come home to, always and forever.

Your eyes rolled behind your skull as your orgasm grew closer. You couldn’t help but arch upwards whenever he kissed at your g-spot with the tip of his cock. The moans that came from your mouth were neverendless and Hanma was living for how pretty you sounded under him. He grunted when he felt your walls tightening around him. He was close himself, but all he desired was seeing you reach your high. After several thrusts, your cunt clamped around his cock. Hanma couldn’t help but hiss at the sensation of your pussy squeezing the life out of his cock. Your moans were much higher as he fucked you through your orgasm. He loved hearing your voice like that. He could play it like his favorite song and never get tired of you. “Fuckkk, yeah.. where do you want my – shit! – my cum, babydoll? Talk to me.. fuck..” he nodded his head, gritting his teeth as the last curse slipped through his mouth. 

“I-Inside! Hanma, inside!” you then locked your ankles around his waist, keeping him nice and snug inside of your dripping cunt.

He couldn’t help but grin at that statement. He wasn’t against it whatsoever, but he was very excited to hear that. He then looked down at you and began to pick up his pace a little. His high was so fucking close he could practically taste the sensation. “Shit.. ‘gonna fill you good, baby. Give you a baby, yeah..? Pregnant with my baby..” he let his head fall backwards as the euphoria took over him.

Within seconds, Hanma reached his climax. Thick white ropes of his cum filled your pussy and reached your womb. Goosebumps littered your skin from the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim. He let out a groan at the affects of his high. It hit him pretty hard, which caused him to tremble a bit. 

After a few minutes, Hanma lied down beside you and pulled you towards him. Both of you were sweating and panting fairly heavily, but that soon calmed when the activities between you two had come to an end. Your ear pressed against his chest to hear his heart beating. It was quite rapid, but once he had you within his arms his beats began to slow down and calm themselves. There was nothing better than holding you after having sex with you. Your skin was so warm underneath his fingertips that you could melt. He didn’t care if you were both dripping with sweat and the smell of sex was lingering around the room. All that mattered was that you were here with him and you were safe in his arms.

He planted a kiss on the top of your head and rested his chin atop it. He couldn’t help but smile at the results of today. It was quite successful and you two had an amazing anniversary with one another. “I love you, doll..” he whispered, squeezing the flesh of your hips softly. “I love you so much.. don’t forget that.”

You grinned, letting your eyes fall shut. “I love you more, Hanma.”

[hotchs-bitch]

Fluffy Feb Day 28- Comfort Sex [Greg Montgomery]

Warnings: established relationship, praise kink, some dumbification, overstimulation, oral sex (both receiving), condescending Greg, p in v sex, comfort sex but make it a little kinky because February can be very tough and I know the girlies are struggling rn (I am one of the girlies)

Pairing: Greg Montgomery x blank slate Fem!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: big love to @greg-montgomery for reading it over, and inspiring me to write this, and to @doctorstethoscope for putting on this amazing event❤️ this is the first thing I’ve written for a non CM character, so please let me know what you think! Happy fluffy feb, folks. That’s a wrap

“Hi, honey!” The predictable kiss to your cheek when Greg sets his briefcase down should make you feel better, but the smile you force makes him pause. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The lie rolls off your tongue with ease. You’re fine. “How was your day?”

“It was Anderson’s last day, so Pete brought a few strippers into the office. Oh, and I finished up that divorce settlement that’s been dragging on.” Greg’s jacket comes off and he hangs it on the coat rack before moving toward the sofa. “My mother wants us to come over for dinner on Friday to discuss the charity luncheon. It’s for sick horses, or maybe women, I think; she either said ‘equestrian’ or ‘equality’, but the stripper music was really loud.”

“So a normal day, for you.” Your teasing falls a little flat, and he frowns as he sits down next to you on the sofa.

“I guess. Hey, what’s going on? Where’s that smile?” His coaxing doesn’t have the effect he’s looking for, you’re sure. Instead, your chin wobbles and you let out a huff of annoyance. “Talk to me. Come on.”

“Everyone’s just… everyone is an idiot,” you snap, catching yourself off-guard with the fury behind your words. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s just, I feel like I’m the only person at work who has a brain and knows how to use it, and I feel like I’m doing everything, and now my boss is mad at me because I’ve made a few mistakes because I’ve been doing everyone else’s job, and now we have this luncheon to worry about for your mother’s horses, and-”

“Hey.” His voice is sharp, and one hand encircles your wrist. “Just breathe. Don’t apologize to me. I want you to tell me this kind of stuff, honey, you know that. Is anything else bothering you?”

The laundry list of things that have been annoying you seems meagre when you actually have to say it out loud. “I got stuck on the way to work behind a car that didn’t use its turn signal,” you mumble. “And the diner was out of sandwiches when I went there for lunch because they didn’t make enough to last all day. It’s all dumb stuff, I’m just tired.”

“It’s not dumb. If it’s bothering you, it’s not dumb,” Greg promises. “What can I do to help? Just say the word.”

You huff again, ignoring the way his lips twitch at the sound. “I don’t know. I just feel like you and I are the only people in the world who have two brain cells to rub together, and I’m tired of it. I spend every single day thinking for everyone and fixing things they should fix, and doing things they should be doing.”

Greg puts one arm around your shoulders, pulling you in sideways. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dragging his lips against your cheek in a long kiss. “You know what I think?”

“That I should get promoted? Or at least, get in less trouble?” You grumble, allowing him to pull you close. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, yes,” he agrees after a second. “Of course. But I can’t do that. What I can do is, I can turn your pretty little brain off for a while.”

Oh. That’s not what you were expecting to hear, but it sounds nice. “I just don’t want to think,” you mumble, playing with one of the buttons on his shirt. “It’s too much.”

“I know it is, baby. Come on, it’s okay,” he soothes. One of his hands slides down your side, seamlessly unbuttoning your pants. “Can I? Let me take care of you.”

That’s the magical sentence, the key to the kingdom, and you nod in answer. Your eyes start to flutter shut when his fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, but you force yourself to keep them open so you can look at him.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs again, leaning in to line your neck with kisses. “No need to think. You’re mine, remember? And I take good care of what’s mine.”

It’s true, he does, and you can already feel yourself going fuzzy around the edges when he circles your clit with one finger. “Mm…”

You feel his smile against your skin, that self-satisfied smirk he wears whenever he turns you to putty. “That’s it. Just take it, just like that. My good girl’s already getting so wet for me, so perfect.”

Greg won’t push a finger in until you’re dripping; you know that from experience. One of his fingers keeps circling your clit, and he uses his other hand to push down your shirt and bra, giving him access to thumb at your nipple.

“I’ll, I can take it off,” you offer, already thinking about sliding off your shirt and unclasping your bra, and Greg sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder in warning.

“I’ll take it off when I want it off,” he promises. “Stop trying so hard. You’re mine, I’m in charge here. You’re going to get what I give you, yeah? You’ve got a safeword. If you aren’t saying it, you’re taking what you get.”

“Y-yeah.” Your breath hitches through the word when he pinches your nipple, his finger rubbing you faster with more and more pressure as the seconds pass. 

His hand moves down slightly, and he groans into your ear when he swipes a finger through your folds to discover how wet you are. “That’s it. Is this turning you on, hm? You like it when I take good care of my princess?” One finger moves back to rub at your clit, lubricated with your arousal.

When he pulls his head away from your shoulder, you bury his face in his neck. It hardly muffles your moans, or your whines of, “Gonna, I need to, please,” against his skin.

“Come for me,” he coaxes. “You don’t have to ask, it’s okay. All over my hand, just like that, go ahead.”

The permission is like a release all on its own, and you moan unabashedly into him as you come, shaking and writhing against him as you grind down onto his hand. 

His finger stays steady against you, working you through your orgasm while you whimper into his neck. When he doesn’t stop playing with your clit, you pull back with a soft groan.

“Was good,” you sigh out, and Greg kisses you sweetly without his rhythm faltering. “I’m- oh, I’m good, baby, thank you.”

“Very good,” he agrees, his voice soft and husky against your lips. “I’ve got such a good girl. You can come again, good girl, I know you can.”

“Greg…” You squirm under him, pleasure mounting quickly as your first orgasm starts to build into your second without letting you come down first. 

He shushes you, kissing your neck again as you come undone on his fingers a second time, your orgasm cresting like a soft wave. “You can take it, just like that. So wet for me, sweetheart, so perfect.” The praise kisses your ears as he kisses you again, finally, blissfully withdrawing his hand as you take a deep breath.

Several deep breaths later, you start to return to yourself. The orgasms weren’t fireworks, or mind-blowing. They were good, of course, but they washed over you in a gentle wave of pleasure rather than making you cry out or making your eyes roll back in your head.

“Ready for more?” He asks with another slow kiss, and you pull back to blink at him.

“More?” You echo, and Greg chuckles at that.

Standing up off the couch, he offers you one hand and you take it. “Yes, more,” he promises, leading you toward the bedroom. “My girl hasn’t had enough yet. I want to hear you beg.”

The bed is soft beneath you when he lays you back, skimming both hands down your eyes before slowly- painfully slowly- tugging your pants and underwear down until they hit the floor. “I want to taste you,” you mumble, and he grins.

Something about sucking him off, having the most intimate part of him under your control, never fails to drive you crazy. Some days, he comes home to find you already on your knees because you crave the taste of him so badly. Although, ever since one incident where you’d nicked the head of his dick with one of your teeth, he has a new… approach.

“You think you can take it? Already, baby, but you need to be careful,” he warns. “Remember, my good girl knows how to listen. You can unzip me.”

His zipper comes down so fast that it’s almost comical, and when he gives permission you push his pants and boxers off while he discards his shirt. 

“I want it.” Your voice is breathless as you eye his hard cock, hard enough to be standing up when he lays back on the bed.

“I know you do,” he says, his voice equal parting soothing and husky. “Okay, greedy girl. You remember what to do?”

This part always frustrates you; the way he talks like you’ve never blown him before, like you’ve never had him whining for your touch. “I know,” you huff, and he wraps one hand in your hair to steady it against the back of your head.

He continues talking like he hasn’t heard you. “First, you can grip it. Stroke nice and slow, get me ready. Stick out your tongue, that’s it. Look how fast my girl is learning.”

You’re perched between his thighs, one hand gripping his hairy leg while you take his cock in your other hand and stroke it. Nice and slow, just like he said, and when you see a bead of pre-cum your tongue slides out of your open mouth of its own volition. 

“I’m ready,” you insist, and Greg twists his hand in your hair just tight enough to hurt. “I am! I’m ready, I can do it.”

“You can do it if you can follow instructions,” he corrects you. “Tap the head on your tongue, sweetheart. Let me feel that mouth.”

“Could feel more of my mouth,” you mumble, but he ‘tsk’s at that until you follow his direction.

“Not yet, I can’t,” he sighs while he watches you, sympathetic. “Now, maybe if my greedy girl weren’t a safety hazard, we could do this however you want. But for now, you’re listening to me.”

You want to complain about that, but then he’s got his free hand steadying your jaw. “Open up more,” he murmurs, and your jaw drops obediently. “Good girl. If I feel anything other than that tongue and those pretty lips, I’m going to edge you until you cry. And we don’t want that, do we?”

He uses the hand tangled in your hair to shake your head for you. “No, we don’t.” He answers his own question, then slowly pushes into your mouth. “Just like that, good girl,” he praises. “You can stroke the rest of it, for now. You feel so good, I don’t want to finish too soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to his instructions, bobbing your head only as much as he allows you to. Drool escapes your mouth, making the glide of your hand on his cock smoother, and you shift with excitement when you hear him sigh in pleasure.

You’re doing it. You’re being his good girl, following his instructions so perfectly, and if you could live out the rest of your days with your head between his thighs and his hands holding you in place, you surely would. It’s blissful, the familiar weight of him in your mouth, grounding you.

Time passes- how much, you can’t say- and Greg lets you get closer, take a little more of him. He even lets you suckle at his sac at one point before guiding you back up to his cock and thrusting shallowly; something he does so rarely that it feels like a reward for you when he does. He pumps into your mouth, once, twice, and you can feel him twitch against your tongue before he pulls out completely.

“Didn’t finish,” you complain, and he shuts you up by pulling you closer up on the bed with the hand in your hair and kissing you.

“I know, baby,” he soothes when you’ve broken apart, discarding your shirt and bra to the floor. “I know. But you got to taste, and now I can make my girl feel so good, can’t I?”

“Fuck me.” It’s half demand, half plea, and Greg is having none of it.

“Not yet.” He lays you back on the bed and gets between your thighs, kissing a line down your neck. When you whine with impatience, two of his fingers nudge your lips. “Suck on those, sweetheart. You can be good for a little longer.”

He’s right, you can be, so you eagerly suck the digits into your mouth as his lips caress your breasts, then your stomach, then your upper thighs while he slides down the bed. “Mm,” you protest around the fingers when you spread your legs for him, and he doesn’t immediately dive between them, instead pulling the fingers out of your mouth and tracing your nipple with saliva.

Sucking his cock has gotten you worked up again, and you’re ready for one of those mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasms that only he can give you. Luckily, he acquiesces after a long moment, wrapping his lips around your clit to suck. Hard.

His tongue pushes into you, curling and probing perfectly, and he pulls off after a minute just to murmur, “Come when you’re ready,” and then he’s back on you with fervour. When you do come, your back arches and you cry out and this time you definitely see fireworks, but he’s still not stopping. “Again,” he insists, panting into your skin as his tongue flicks against your clit and you moan.

Both of your hands are tangled in his hair by the time he pulls away, and by then you’ve got no idea how many times you’ve finished. Orgasm has blurred into orgasm, one continuous stream of pleasure that has you blinking away tears and breathing heavily when Greg comes up for air. His chin is wet, his eyes sinfully dark, and he’s still got a stupid smirk on his face, and if you could possibly come again you would probably do it just from looking at him.

“Just a few more,” he promises you, fisting his cock. It’s an angry purple, the bedsheet under him spotted with pre-cum, and you moan aloud at the idea of him enjoying eating you out so much that’s turning him on. His promise of ‘a few more’ doesn’t even register, at first. You’re drunk off the feel of his tongue, unable to form a sentence if you tried, and you need him inside you now.

“Please.” It’s a whine, and Greg grins at your needy pout while he kisses you. “Please, I need it.”

“I know you do,” he whispers. “Can you ride me? Can my princess handle that?”

You shake your head, no, you can’t handle it. Your legs are trembling and achy, you’ve come too many times, and you couldn’t move right now if you tried.

Instead of getting frustrated, Greg just chuckles while he pushes your legs back open. “No?” He teases, pressing the head of his cock against your hole. He pushes the head in slightly, then pulls it out just to hear your lewd moan at the loss. “Did I make my good girl so dumb she can’t even ride me? I’ve been so nice to you, sweetheart, and you can’t help your man out?”

Tears prick at your eyes as you nod furiously. “M sorry,” you gasp out, willing your legs to spread further for him. His thumb grazes your clit again and you flinch, overstimulated. “It’s, it’s too much, I can’t.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby.” His grin doesn’t falter as his thumb speeds up, pressing directly on the bundle of nerves until your eyes roll back and your back arches off the bed. “I’ll forgive you if you can come again, how’s that sound?”

It sounds impossible, but the way he’s giving you no reprieve is starting to make you shake under him all over again. “Can’t, I can’t, please!”

“I think you can.” He presses his cock into you again, hardly an inch. “You love it when I do this, you love being my dumb baby. You beg for it. Soak my cock, get it nice and wet so I can fuck you.”

Your whimper almost breaks the sound barrier, you swear. Greg’s thumb doesn’t slow down or break the rhythm at all when you try to squirm away, and he pins you down with one hand on your abdomen. “Please, please, please, please!”

It’s hard to tell what you’re begging for now, but he doesn’t care. His tongue pokes out in concentration, staring down at your pussy as you clench around the head of his cock. When his eyes dart up, connecting with yours, you shatter.

It’s like falling off a skyscraper, becoming a firework, a train of pleasure colliding with your body as you howl. Words escape you and your mouth falls open in a silent scream when he finally, blissfully, pushes in the rest of the way. You can’t focus on him or the way he cups your cheek or the words he mumbles, you can’t focus on anything except the slick drag of his cock inside you.

“Knew you could do it,” he pants, squeezing your jaw a little. “So pretty when you come for me, baby.”

“Greg, Greg, Greg-” You’re gasping out his name with each punctuated thrust, the only word in your brain now. You can’t even remember your own name, you’re so fuzzy.

“Did I get my girl all stupid?” He croons, grinning down at you with that sinisterly innocent smile. “Oh, I did. Look at those pretty eyes. All glazed over, not a single thought in there. You like my cock that much, princess? Hm?”

“Mhm, mm,” you moan behind closed lips, and you hear his chuckle.

“I thought so. You like it when I treat you good? When I rub that clit until you can’t breathe?” Your sharp inhale follows the sound of him spitting onto his hand, reaching down to roll circles around the swollen bud. “I know you need it, baby, you can do it.”

There are tears streaming down your face now, and you hardly know when they started. You’re too overwhelmed with pleasure, you can hardly stand it, you don’t know how much longer you can go. You don’t want to stop, that’s the only thing you know. He’s in charge, like he always tells you. He knows best, you’re his dumb baby, and you can take whatever he gives you, you can.

“That’s my good girl,” he coos when you don’t try to argue. “Just like that. I’m thinking for you, remember? You’re all mine. You’re going to let me keep playing with this pretty pussy, aren’t you?”

Swallowing a sob, you can only nod as he kisses you again. You let him invade your mouth as you grip his back, leaving scratches that are sure to burn but he only hisses in pleasure. You’re being so good that you’re almost dizzy with the thought of it, so good for him, he’s mumbling into your mouth that you’re so fucking perfect and it makes you shudder in pleasure. 

It can’t be possible for your body to come again, but it also shouldn’t be possible for one man to be so perfect, and you think that Greg can find a way to do anything. When you start to feel that familiar twist in your belly you whine, and he pulls his hand away, and you don’t know if you’re disappointed or relieved.

“Can I come?” He asks, breathless, just what you’ve been waiting for, and he places his hand on your stomach. “Right here, can I fill you up?”

The sigh of relief he lets out when you nod is orgasmic in its own right. He thrusts again, once, twice more, and then you can feel him flooding your insides like he promised, filling you up with him. “Good girl,” he gasps out as he ruts through it, crushing his lips to yours as you kiss back hazily, messily.

Instead of collapsing on the bed when he pulls out, he immediately moves back down your body and mouths at your hip. “I’m gonna clean you up,” he says, gazing up at you as his lips trail lower and he sucks a mark on your inner thigh. “One more, on my tongue. My good girl can do it.”

Truthfully, you don’t know if you can. You feel weighed down, boneless, and the idea of ever coming again sounds impossible. But you’re good for him, you’re his good girl, you’re his, so you just nod. 

“Eyes on me,” he whispers, and he keeps his gaze locked on you as- fuck, as his tongue pushes inside you and curls, lapping up the taste of himself before it can leak out of you. Greg moans against you, into you, and as soon as you can feel your arms again you place one hand in his hair. It’s damp with sweat, the locks sliding through your fingers, and when you tangle your fingers in it to keep a grip on him he only licks harder.

Your hips rock up off the bed to meet his mouth, and his nose bumps against your clit as he tries to get even closer to you. Once he’s satisfied with cleaning his cum out of you he pulls back, still holding eye contact with you, and you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You must have died, several orgasms ago. This must be heaven.

Greg latches back onto your clit in a frenzy, sucking hard as he rolls his tongue over the bud, and a fresh stream of tears escapes you when you sob, yanking his hair hard, chanting yes, yes, yes, and please, Greg, fuck, as you come undone on his tongue like you have so many times tonight.

His tongue laves over you as you come down, an unspoken apology to your overused pussy, and he pulls away after you whine softly. Your hands release his hair and he moves up the bed, kissing you gingerly.

This might be your favourite part; lying in his arms in the afterglow, with no need to do or say or think. “Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs once you’ve settled into him. “You did so well for me. How’s my best girl doing?”

Words haven’t returned to you yet; maybe they never will. When he wraps one arm around your shoulders, you roll over on your side to nestle your head in your favourite spot between his jaw and his collarbone and hum with contentment.

“So perfect,” he praises, and you turn your face into the crook of his neck. He loves to praise you, especially afterwards, and you both know how badly you want- no, need- to hear it, but it still gets you embarrassed sometimes. “You took me so well, sweet girl. I’m so proud of you.”

“Sorry.” Your voice is raspy, your throat dry, and your words are muffled against him. “Couldn’t ride you, Greg. ‘M sorry.”

“Hey,” he pulls back just enough to kiss the side of your head, “No apologizing. You could never let me down, angel. You’re so perfect for me, all the time.” When you relax back against him, he continues speaking, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Honestly, after all that, I’ll be impressed if you can even walk.”

There might be a challenge in his tone, or maybe you’re just imagining it, because when you hmph indignantly he lets out a tranquil sigh and starts stroking soothing lines down your back with the hand wrapped around you. “Alright, sweetheart, let’s not find out tonight. You deserve some rest. Do you need anything else?”

After a moment, you inhale deeply. You’re surrounded by the scent and feel and voice of the man you love. The taste of him is still in your mouth, and you’ve got a perfectly-captured image in your mind’s eye of the beautiful smile he gave you before he kissed you. You’ve got everything you need, and you shake your head to tell him that.

“Alright. You’ll let me know if you need anything, okay?” He waits for you to nod. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” you mumble. You want to hear more of him, you want him to speak until his is the only voice you recognize, so you ask the only thing you can think of short of asking him to read you the dictionary. “How was your day?”

A smile pulls at his lips, and you can see it in your head when you feel his jaw shift above you. It’s that lopsided smile that always makes you want to kiss him silly, you just know it is. “It was good. It was Anderson’s last day, and we had a party. How was your day, princess?”

You sigh against his skin, relaxing into his embrace like it’s a warm cloud you could sink into and never emerge from. “It was perfect.”

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[carrotcouple]

It had been simple.

Going through the motions, investigating things that Nahida asked him to, picking fights with arrogant scholars, reading as many books in the forbidden section as he wanted to, rejecting invitations to go drinking with Cyno and Kaveh, writing when he felt like it, teaching Collei how to read.

He'd pretty much moved on. And by 'moved on' he meant that he compartmentalized, putting past events into a box and throwing them into a corner of his mind that he never visited.

So he hadn't expected to be hit with reality quite like this.

"Are you alright?" Haypasia asked him.

The thing was that Fujin was in every sense, a fallen God. Had it been the days of the Archon War he might have even taken Nahida's place as Archon of the people of Sumeru, and Celestia itself would have acknowledged him.

And the one person who'd seen his very core and had become his one and only worshipper and follower now stood in front of him and she had no idea who he was. That was the price he paid for erasing himself from history. Not that he would want her to remember him anyways.

There couldn't be any world where she would have wanted to serve a pathetic failure of a God. She'd witnessed his short reign and then watched him fall.

"I'm fine," Fujin crossed his arms. "I don't see how I wouldn't be fine. Did you really think I'd be weak enough to get hurt from someone as small as you knocking into me?"

"Oh dear," she said, scratching the back of her head. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"Offend me?" Fujin laughed. His stomach was twisting into knots. She was important to him. So important to him that he felt it in his non-existent soul. The failed God in him desperately yearned for the devotion of its only devotee.

But he was nothing to her now. Not even a memory. He didn't even exist in a world before now. Not to her at least.

"If you offended me, little girl, I'd have thrown you out a window. Remember to watch where you're going." Fujin turned and started marching away. He couldn't even consider this as her betraying him. By erasing himself from history, he'd been the one to betray her, not the other way around.

"Wait a minute! I'm not-"

"Haypasia? Is that you? Getting confused and lost as usual then? Are you back after having eaten all the drugs the Forest Watchers could pump into your system?" Fujin heard another student call out to Haypasia and he stopped in his tracks.

"How dare you! I research a legitimate field! Also that was incredibly rude to the Forest Watchers! Watch your tongue!" Haypasia cried out.

"Everyone here knows that you and the Forest Watchers are in cahoots to get more fundi-"

Fujin grabbed the student's collar and swung them so they were dangling out of a window.

"How about you try finishing that sentence?" Fujin snarled. "I wonder how long it'll take for you to hit the roots of the Divine Tree of Wisdom? Plenty of time to reflect on the brainlessness of your actions, yes? They call the Akedimiya the center of all knowledge and wisdom in all of Tevyat but all I meet are buffoons who cannot rub two brain cells together but are riding on the esteem of their school. Tell me, how many things have you achieved? Surely you must be one of the top students of the Akedimiya if you are able to wag your tongue so freely?"

"Mercy!" The student cried out, gripping his hand tightly, eyes wide and fear all over their face. Their limbs were flailing, obviously not wanting to die.

"You talk about the Forest Watchers stealing funding they don't need. I should throw you into a Withering Zone and see how you fare. Then you can prove they don't need funding, yes? As long as you manage to get out alive, of course."

Everyone in the hall was staring at him, terrified.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It was rude of me to say-"

"Hat Guy!"

Fujin sighed. That stupid fucking name. He needed to bring this up to Nahida. He turned to see Tirzad, one of the older Vahumana scholars staring at him in scandalized horror.

"Put that student down this instant! This is a sacred institution! You cannot bring your uncouth bullying in-" Tirzad began.

"Well," Fujin said, "I'd like to see you do something about it then."

He was about to go back to threatening the student when he saw Haypasia again. She looked scared. Scared of him.

Ah.

She really didn't know who he was. She didn't know that she had seen everything. But she no longer knew him.

Fujin laughed a little.

He didn't know why he felt such a keen and aching sense of loss. He had known for five hundred years that he was destined to be alone and unloved. That was why everyone had either thrown him away, used him, or left him.

"Nahida will understand," Fujin told Tirzad whose jaw dropped at him using the Archon's name so flippantly and casually and then he let go of the student.

Several people including the student screamed as the student went plummeting towards the lower levels of Sumeru City. Fujin flipped everyone in the hallway off, glanced at Haypasia's face, and then jumped out the window.

He caught the student just before they hit the pavement. Then he gently lowered them to the ground where they collapsed in a heap.

"You should write a book," Fujin grinned. "'How to offend Hat Guy and Survive'. How does that sound?" He patted the student's shoulder and then decided to meander into the Grand Bazaar to maybe find Nilou and watch one of the theater's rehearsals before Nahida found him and scolded him for throwing people out of the windows again.

His mind wandered back to Haypasia.

He wondered if she had enough funding for her research. He had a stupid amount of mora and people were allowed to anonymously donate to students.

He hissed under his breath, trying to squash the failed God that lived in his hollow chest. Haypasia wasn't his anymore.

He crossed his arms and unhappily headed to the Grand Bazaar.

[george-weasleys-girl]

Chapter 24 - North Star

Warnings: a couple curse words

Summary: With summer vacation coming to a close and Y/N's impending departure looming, she and George create a binding spell

Start Here:

~•~

Hogwarts, Autumn 1995

George trudged outside, flexing his stiff hands, causing the wounds on his knuckles to bleed again. Grinding his teeth, he ignored the pain and turned toward the Black Lake, ruminating over the day's events. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together knew Malfoy got what he deserved. It'd been a long time coming, and today, he crossed a line. But, of course, Professor Umbridge didn't see it that way, and now George, Harry, and Fred were banned from Quidditch for life.

"Fucking pink toad," George muttered to himself.

The wind picked up, bringing with it the scent of rain. George heaved a sigh. He wouldn’t be out here braving the impending rainstorm if it weren't for Angelina. When he left, she and Fred were on the verge of breaking up. She was livid that they'd gotten banned and had no problem letting everyone, especially Fred, Harry, and himself know just how she felt.

So, he left. The last thing he needed was to be told repeatedly how stupid he was.

George plopped down on his and Y/N's favorite spot by the lake, all his energy draining away, leaving him empty and withdrawn. He missed Y/N terribly, especially in moments like this, when the world lay heavy on his shoulders. Her steadfast reassurance was what he needed most right now. She would know exactly what to say to calm his frayed nerves.

George reached for the next best thing and pulled out the silver locket that hung around his neck. He traced the engraved star with his thumb while a gentle warmth spread through him, dulling his heartache. For a brief moment, the faint scent of sandalwood and roses flooded his senses.

Bringing the talisman to his lips, he gave it a single kiss before tucking it back under his shirt and laying down in the grass to watch the storm clouds roll in.

~•~

Muggle London, Late July 1995

George and Y/N made their way through the bustling crowds. He'd convinced Fred to let him use a small amount of the winnings Harry gave them to buy Y/N a little something before she left.

"I can't believe Molly was ok with this," Y/N said, dodging a gaggle of muggle teenagers taking up half the sidewalk.

"She doesn't know."

"What?" Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, causing the man behind her to curse when he almost slammed into her.

"Sorry, so sorry," she apologized. The man muttered under his breath and hurried past her.

"C'mon, love." George said, taking Y/N's hand. "We're nearly there."

"Where is there?" she asked. Her boyfriend had been very secretive about the whole trip. And now, upon finding out that Mrs. Weasley had no idea what was going on, she began to worry. With Death Eaters lurking in the shadows, their little excursion wasn't entirely safe. "Please tell me Fred knows, at least?" She asked, hoping someone knew where they were going in case something happened.

"Of course he does, and so does Ginny. Sirius, too. He kept mum distracted so we could get out the door."

"Oh good," she said just before another thought occurred to her. "Wait, how are we supposed to get back in? Do we have a set time? You know she watches that door like a hawk."

George shrugged. "We'll already be done and back. What can she do? Yell at us?"

Y/N glared at him. Molly was already furious. Three days ago, she found out they were sleeping together and damn near blew the roof off the place. Even Kreacher ducked for cover. Then, George refusing to budge an inch on the matter, infuriated her even more. Discovering they'd snuck out would only make matters worse.

Y/N sighed. "George Weasley, you're going to be the death of me."

~•~

Ilvermorny - Autumn 1995

It had been a long day. Master Bellflower had kept her and the other two hemalurgy apprentices late, leaving her little time to shower and change before rushing to dinner, followed by the planning meeting for the senior prank.

It, too, ran late. Very late.

Y/N lay in bed, exhausted, but wide awake. She wasn't used to having the bed to herself anymore, having gotten used to sleeping next to George every night, even if he did hog the bed sometimes. When they weren't cuddling, her boyfriend seemed to liquify and spread out to fill up all available space. The memory brought a rueful smile to her face. Rolling onto her back, she pulled the locket from underneath her night shirt. It felt a little warmer than usual, but considering that she was under a mountain of blankets, she thought nothing of it. His comforting scent of gunpowder and caramel encompassed her. Closing her eyes, she pretended he was there beside her, and soon, she was fast asleep.

The sun was cresting the horizon when Y/N awoke with a start, feeling as though something was wrong. It took her a moment to realize her locket was no longer simply warm but almost hot. It'd never done that before. Throwing her blankets off, she tossed on her robe and slippers. Glancing at the clock, she had an hour before she needed to get ready for the day. Perfect. Just enough time to pen a letter to George and send it on its way.

~•~

12 Grimmauld Place, one week before Y/N's departure

George and Y/N sat on the bed facing each other. Between them lay a knife, a piece of parchment upon which was a spell they had written together, and on either side two silver lockets. The lockets were not the gifts he'd had in mind when he took her shopping, but the moment he saw them, he knew that's what they'd come for.

His mind drifted back to the night over spring break when he and Y/N lay outside at the Burrow, watching the stars.

"That's Venus," Y/N had pointed out. "The evening star. She shines first. She shines brightest. And she shines longest. Perhaps that's why she was named after the Goddess of Love. A hope that her light would shine down and bless all the loves of this world for all time."

George smiled and squeezed her hand.

"And that one is Polaris," she pointed out another sparkling point in the sky. "Also, known as the North Star. It moves in a very small circle around the North Pole, while all the other stars rotate around it. Because it appears stationary, muggle seafarers used to use it to find true North. So, if you're ever lost, look for Polaris. It will guide you home."

He was about to tell Y/N that she was his North Star, but then Harry joined them, and he completely forgot about it until he saw the matching lockets.

"Hey you." Y/N's soft touch and gentle voice brought him back to the present. "Ready?"

George nodded. As one, they rose, lighting the candles sunwise around the room before returning to the bed. Sitting side by side, both holding the parchment, they spoke in unison.

You are my North Star.

My compass points to you, guiding me home.

Together, we will build a bridge to one another,

in a place between Awake and Dreaming,

between Matter and Spirit,

between what was, what is, and what is to come.

Then, taking the knife, they cut a small lock from one another's hair and placed them inside each other's locket.

Holding the lockets in the palm of their hands, Y/N spoke first. "I am Y/N L/N, and this is now my link to George Weasley."

George followed, enunciating the words with great care. The moment he spoke the final syllable, something shifted. It wasn't showy like most magic. No flashing lights or loud bangs. It was an inner shift. Subtle and quiet. And yet they could feel the delicate string now connecting them to one another.

He leaned forward to kiss her when the door swung open, causing them both to jump. They'd forgotten to lock the door.

Molly tossed two letters at them before rolling her eyes at all the lit candles and slamming the door shut.

George and Y/N looked down at the letters. In their hands were two identical warnings against underage magic from the Ministery.

They looked at each other and giggled.

"Oops."

~•~

Next Chapter:

@milivanili99 @slytherclaw1978 @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ladylizzieofdarbyshire

[rcksmith]

Lust — Kaz Brekker

Gif by @kitsyoung

Request: “Hey. I really like your writing and I was wondering if you would consider writing a Kaz piece with the smut prompts 76, 1 & 33. Obviously with your au rules. If it’s too much I completely understand tho”

“7, 17, 36, and 73 from the smut list for Kaz Brekker please? If not, no worries! 💖 Thank you!”

“Holy shit that last kaz brekker smut- AMAZING. Was wondering if you could write another smut with smut prompt #6? Of course if this bothers you just ignore it. Thank you so much 🥰”

Smut prompts:

1. “You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat.”

6. “Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

17. “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”

33. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”

36. "If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.“

73. “You know, you look real pretty when you cry.”

76. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nsfw, jealous, mention of fight.

Word count: 5k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

Thank you so much for the requests and for all affection 💖 I decided to compile these requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. I hope you like it and good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

There is a theory that always, somewhere, there will be a person capable of making you lose your breath, and your reasoning, whenever he appears on the scene. Someone who robs you of your breath, your heartbeat, your ability to think clearly and your control to keep your hands not shaking.

And Kaz Brekker would always be that person for you.

From the first time you laid eyes on him, it's been a feeling of dying and going to heaven. Except that Heaven was, in reality, a hot, burning hell. Where your greatest punishment was being forced to watch his tall figure, who exuded masculinity by every inch, walking in front of you like a Renaissance painting very superb.

Nothing that Van Gogh, Da Vinci, and Picasso created has bordered on the personification of beauty that he was.

Kaz was beautiful in a very mysterious, dangerous and chilling way. You would describe his aura as the height of midnight in an enigmatic city, his hair the color of the core of sin and his features as lines that the god Ares would have drawn. Everything about him reeked of the fog of suspense stories, with a touch of lust.

All the looks he directed at you were caustic, flickering and intense as a candle flame, reverberating through your veins like angry eels and always make the room feeling charged with electricity, like the ground after the fall of a lightning. Everything between the two of you seemed to be filled with something fiery and arcane. From the gazes, the rubbing of shoulders, the times when the skins touched. Everything was a compilation of sensations that make you catch your breath whenever Kaz Brekker appeared.

He was your kryptonite. In all senses.

And that was exasperating in the extreme, at staggering levels. You felt your center of your sex vibrate whenever he directed you that voice whit baritone intonation and predatory looks, whenever the button-down shirts were tight enough for you to revel in the contours of his body, or sometimes when he wore the cane to signal or stopper something. This was the worst of them. His cane.

Have you lost count of how many times Kaz stopped you as counting money, by putting the tip of the cane over your hands, or stopped you from going somewhere by blocking your path with the cane, lifting the object horizontally in front of your belly. And every time you felt your legs tremble, your breath fade and a very dirty part of your brain whisper that you wanted him to use that object in you in more fun ways.

Your body was so responsive that there were times when you knew, with every fiber of your soul, that Kaz was able to read the paths in which your thoughts wandered. He lowered his gaze to you, in that breathless connection that promised to contain the most nefarious paths of sin, and maliciously curved the left corner of his lips in an arrogant, oblique expression. At such times, you could feel in your soul the words he did not say:

I know the perverted things that you are thinking.

And the truth was, he really knew. Kaz memorized every change in your breathing, every blush on your cheeks, every trembling of your hands, every your trembling look whit a frightened girl who had been caught thinking of something impure. He knew how your body was responsive, needy. And he himself had to control himself not to push you over the desk in his office and fuck you like an aggressive animal, bringing all your perverted thoughts to life.

It wasn't his physical reactions that kept him from taking action, but an even more visseral reaction than the pulsing desire he felt for you. Mine. The primal, determined, burning sensation of possession. That it ran through his veins like hot, bubbling lava. The desire was familiar, but this statement, not. Like the jealousy he felt for you, he quickly recognized the danger he was in.

If Kaz touched you…he knew he would never be able to let you go.

Mine. A statement that resonated spontaneously whenever he saw you, a testament to the reactions the two of you triggered in each other. However, not even the awareness of the dangerous game that was between you was able to dispel the climate of provocative sensuality that pulsed in the places whenever the two of you were together.

It was like playing with a powerful drug. One slip and he would be addicted forever.

On days like this, when Kaz had just come out of an exasperating meeting with Peka, a businessman and mobster who was always looking for ways to try and bring Kaz down, his already bad temper turned to terrible. He felt compelled to break something, drink a whole bottle of the best English whiskey in that club, and punch someone. Kaz felt the anger pulse through his veins, in a pure and perfect way.

He left the office, turning off his cell phone so he wouldn't be disturbed and descending the stairs to the center of his Crow Club, mind buzzing and anger seeping in his blood. He needed to unwind, maybe get into the car and head home. Maybe actually drink that whiskey bottle. Maybe both.

Kaz was about to take another step down, running a gloved hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes, when his gaze met your figure. And that was when the already terrible temper rose to the very badly.

Normally, a vision like that would have just bothered him, a compulsion to do something. But that day, Kaz was at the height of his angriest feelings. And seeing you, bold as a goddess in that little black dress, next to Jesper at the gambling table and flirting with a guy to your left, did things with every last bit of patience and self-control he had.

His eyes never left you as he took another step, running his hand through his hair again to contain the unruly strands. You were laughing, downing another drink and placing a card on the table. You turn back to the man to your left, your eyelashes fluttered gracefully in a promise to allow him to guide your rein tonight.

But there would be no goddamn rein for that fucking guy to guide.

Kaz gripped his cane tightly, descending the other short stairs and advancing toward your with dangerous, determined, and angry steps.

"...in this part of the year, criminal law cases drop a lot." The damn guy was telling you, his boring blond hair falling over his blue eyes in a way Kaz found annoying.

To fucking hell with that blond-haired Dande.

“Y/n, Jesper!” Kaz tapped the end of his cane on the table, stopping the cards under the polished wooden end.

Everyone at the table looked at him startled, their actions frozen. He saw you swallow hard, a soft tremor sigh in your shoulders.

Good!

“Shouldn't you be at the door?” Kaz turned to Jesper, his eyes sparks with annoyance.

“Right now, Boss.” He stood up, giving you a strained smile and heading towards the door.

“Kaz…” You started, voice softly intoxicated.

You knew you weren't supposed to be at the gambling table, let alone so late at night and drunk, even if Jesper was by your side. You had the ability to win every play, in any game, and that ended up not only driving the others away, but leaving the men, already drunk and irrational, aggressive and with an extremely bruised ego. And they almost always wanted to retaliate physically. As much as there were security guards and cameras everywhere to keep something bad from happening, Kaz couldn't stand the thought of someone hurting you. Not even blinking insultingly in your direction.

He sent you an icy, sharp, steady look. A clear warning for you to stop there any excuse you were about to give. To be careful with the next words you would say. You swallowed hard, looking away and getting up from the table. Slightly wobbly from the drink, you fished your coat from the chair next to you, giving a strained, apologetic smile to the guy you'd been flirting with so far.

“I better go home and call an uber and…” You started, but Kaz cut your sentence.

“I'll driver you.”

His tone exuded annoyance and impatience, giving no opening to any objections, demonstrating that he was in no mood for games. Much less defiance of his orders. You knew him too well to recognize that that night had pulled his nerves beyond what he could handle, the strain and irritation in his eyes told you something had happened beyond what you knew. His jaw, straight and strong as glass, was clenched tightly, his night-colored hair was disheveled in an overwhelmingly attractive way, and his black robes sinfully marred every line of his body.

You should have become wary of the dangerous energy that he exuded through every pore at that moment. However, to your inebriated and excited brain, Kaz Brekker has never looked so fucking hot! Your underbelly vibrated in response to the personification of sin that Kaz was, your heart racing at alarming levels as you followed him out, walking over to his car.

Like every piece of Brekker's clothing, his car was sleek black, with big black wheels, tinted glass and dark leather seats. Hades' chariot. You felt your breath catch when Kaz opened the passenger door for you, his eyes avoiding yours, his jaw still clenched and dangerous energy exhaling through every fiber of his tall, lean body.

Holy Mother of God, this man was a perdition!

Kaz contained an instinctive desire to go back inside and tell that aspiring Dande that you weren't available. Instead, he closed the door when you got in and turned around in the car, closing his own and squeezing the steering wheel harder than he would have liked.

Midnight height light streamed in through the darkened car windows and gently illuminated the curve of your cheek, highlighting your skin that Kaz might have named the color of the gods. So much attention was too seductive. Emotions and reactions still bubbled through each his vein like scandant water, mingling with months of frustrated desires and burning sexual tension.

At that moment, jealousy laced him. Mine. Amazing and at the same time propelled by dangerous strength, Kaz tried to trap that feeling back into the dungeon of his soul. He controlled his fury, yet he couldn't completely tame. Annoyance turned to anger. Starting driving the car forward, Kaz tried to think of anything but how you looked like the Goddess Aphrodite on that dark bench. Splendid as a heat ray in a winter day.

“Kaz…” You started, that gentle, repentant tone that stirred every spark in his soul.

He hated how his name on your lips sounded so sensual, so right and so delicious. He would give everything he had to hear you moan his name.

“Don't start” he warned, now not because of latent annoyance, but because he didn't know if he could stop himself if he heard your voice.

However, you didn't make things any easier for him.

"You don't have to be so angry." You go "I wasn't even using all my intellect on the game, I wasn't trying to win."

Kaz didn't even know if that was the core of the problem anymore. Was he angry that you went to a table where it was dangerous? Yes. But the waters were much deeper than that, much more dangerous. The way your smile, sweet and sensual, was directed at that guy, reeled in Kaz's mind, impregnated with the plague. He felt the blood burn in his veins just remembering how melted you looked for that man. And as much as he couldn't blame you, because you were free and single, the primal, irrational part of him screamed so much louder now.

Mine.

“This does not matter anymore.” It was the only thing he managed to say, the very sensations drowning him.

“And it wasn't even that dangerous.” But unlike him, you were obliterating the burning emotions that Kaz exuded. “There were only a few players drunker than a door, and Jesper was on my side, and also James, who was very charming and...”

Kaz almost lost direction, making the car bounce smoothly. He staked his eyes at you, puzzled and bubbling.

“James?”

“Yeah, the blond guy who…”

"I don't want to know, Y/n." He cut you off "I don't want to hear about the guys you allow to drool around you like mangy dogs."

The distilled rage was impossible to contain, and before Kaz knew it, the words were out. He turned forward again, his hands tighter on the steering wheel.

“Wait…” Your tone was slightly smug, and the way you rubbed one thigh against the other was impossible for Kaz to miss.

The grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“You are jealous?” Your intonation dropped to a low, sensual, provocative level.

Suddenly, Kaz's entire body became very aware of your body inches away. He could feel the heat that you radiated and the lyrical, sweet and sinful scent of your perfume flooded all his senses. The air grew thin, puffy and stuffy, and if it had been December cold outside, Kaz would still feel the height of summer in that car. Flashes of excitement and danger rippled through the car, and the brief silence grew even more charged with sexual tension and lustful anticipation that stirred every fiber of Kaz's being.

He made the mistake of looking at you again, and your softly mischievous smile that promised a lifetime of satisfied desires only served to incite his madness. Kaz had never understood how a man could want a woman so badly that he acted irrationally and carelessly. But now he understood. And when he realized you tried to stifle a sensual sigh from the way he was looking at you, his body won the fight against his mind and Kaz stopped abruptly the car at the red traffic light.

The sexual tension between you had become unbearable. In one moment, Kaz was fighting the series of overwhelming and disturbing emotions that dominated his entire being, and in the next moment, he had taken your mouth with his in a fiery, fierce, animal kiss. Stealing all the air from both of you, his thoughts, and his sanity.

He held your face firmly in his hands, his fingers going down to the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, turning everything into something more caustic and desperate. Yours hands went to his arms, moving up to his shoulders and cupping the sides of his neck, pulling him closer. Kaz's tongue inched into your mouth without waiting for permission, conquering and claiming every fiber of your body, of your soul, in a continued of kisses you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

The moan of satisfaction you let out gave him a lust and desire unlike anything Brekker had ever felt. Like hot, addictive honey down in his throat. He was still gripped by jealousy, annoyance and possessiveness. With the desire for you pulsing in his body just like his heartbeat.

Kaz pulled back millimetrically, his blue eyes overshadowed by the heat of the moment, his lips red and swollen from the sinful kisses he gave you. At that moment, Kaz Brekker looked like an angry young God, and you've never felt more attracted to someone in your life than you are now.

You looked at him, panting and needy, wishing with all your might that he repeat the same actions. And you knew he realized that. Perfectly. You saw the spark of male satisfaction ignite in his eyes as he absorbed your desire. He was so close... so very close, and you couldn't stand the enormous anxiety for a caress, a kiss, anything.

His cocky smile intensified as you put more pressure in your touch his skin, your fingers trailing down his neck and back to his shoulders, silently pleading for him to do something with you. Anything he wanted.

Kaz lowered his one gloved hand to your jaw, thumb and forefinger squeezing your chin and making you look at him directly, you staring into the deep, shrewd blue of his eyes. He pulled you closer by the grip on your chin, the husky, erotic words hitting your lips like a promise of sin as he said:

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don't forget who you belong to.”

It was impossible to control the loud, needy sigh that escaped, your center throbbing in despair and wetting the thin cloth of your panties. You wanted he to touch you more, pull your body against his until there was not a single sigh left, claim your soul and your body as his. You had parted your lips to say something, most likely a plea for him to continue, but the traffic light turned green and Kaz took his hands off you, straightening up on the bench and putting the car move.

In the absence of his warmth, his body, you felt cold, empty and frozen. As if Kaz were your sun and you were Icarus. Feeling the compulsion to need to get closer, complete its magnitude and bask in his rays. Every cell in your body begged for him, in needy and submissive requests, telling you to accept anything he told you, that he gave you, as long as it touched you.

“If I knew that to make you kiss me I would have to flirt with someone else, I would have done it a long time ago.” You teased, a satisfied, malicious smile on your lips.

Kaz looked at you in annoyance. In a clear warning that you should never more do that again.

"If you wanted me to kiss you like the brat you are, you just needed to have asked." He countered your game to the full.

"But if I want more than that?" But just as he knew how to play, so did you.

You swiped the tip of your tongue across your lips, kicking off your shoes and pulling your legs over the dashboard of the car, exposing your nearly bare thighs through the thin black fabric of your dress. Your actions instantly caught Kaz's eyes, and his grip on the steering wheel grew stronger and his breathing heavier.

The air inside the car became more ardent, burn, charged with eroticism and lust that left both of you breathless. An electrifying energy coursed through their bodies, as if they had been struck by a bolt of fire. You wanted him in a way you never thought you could want anyone.

Kaz took a deep breath, and looked at you with dangerous predator eyes as he said:

"If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

The words made your body tremble. But if Kaz was trying to dissuade you, that was the last thing he should have told you. Instead of taming the fire inside you, it threw gasoline into the aggressive fire. You pressed your thighs together, your body sensitive to his words filled with burning promise.

In five minutes of insane courage, you took your feet off the dashboard, leaned toward Kaz, and brushed his neck with your lips. In slow, burning, hot kisses, you traced a path to the pulse in his neck, opening your lips slightly to brush your tongue over that pulse point.

“Please.” You beg.

Kaz's moan was low, but loud enough in your mind. You were being his undoing and you knew it. Suddenly, the car veered to the right and came to an abrupt stop. You would have lost your balance if Kaz's hands hadn't clung to your waist, pulling you in one movement to his left thigh, pressing your soaked core into the black fabric of his pants.

You gasped loudly, or he, or both. And in the next moment, his mouth was on yours again. The kiss was more aggressive, possessive, angry and ardent. Kaz kissed you as if he wanted to decree you his, proclaim his possession. You didn't see when he removed his gloves, but the touch of his skin with on your thighs was all you could think of.

“Kaz…” You moaned into his mouth, and the grip on your thighs moved up to your hip, digging his fingers into your thin dress-covered skin with such force it was sure to leave marks tomorrow. "Please."

You knew what you were begging for, but the moment Kaz forced your waist to move against his thigh, rubbing your pulsing core against his thigh, you forgot even your own name. And Kaz knew it. Then, like dominant man who wanted to see you surrendered to him that he was, his mouth went to your ear as he whispered:

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Kaz wiggled his thigh against you, making your clit roll against the soggy fabric of your panties.

You moaned loudly, your hands tightening on his shirt, your face hiding in his chest as an overwhelming, aching pleasure invaded your system. It felt good, but unbearable for being so little, churning something in your belly that made you despair for more.

"Y-yes." You whimpered, rolling your hips on his thigh.

Kaz's bare hand crept up the slit between your thighs, your dress already balled up at the top of your waist, and dipped his fingers into the juncture of your pussy and his thigh, pulling your panties to the side and making you feel the fabric of his dark pants against your wet, hot flesh. You moaned louder, your grip on his shirt tighter and your hips rocked harder for have any friction.

“Do you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are? Is that what you've wanted all this time?” His words, husky and strong, in that intense, dominant intonation, sent all your self-control to hell.

"Yes." You sobbed. “I-I need you."

But his hand in your panties went up to your chin, and he forced you to look him in the eye once more. The electric intensity of that look turned you on even more, making you gasp as his thigh still rocked against your throbbing clit.

“After that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy” It was very hard to think with all the stimuli he was giving you, but the thunderous blue eyes warned you to pay attention to his words “Do you think you deserve me to fuck you?”

His gaze invaded you so deep and so warm and intense that you wondered if he was trying to leave a burning imprint on your soul. All over your body, overwhelming desires resonated, and you gave in to the compulsion to roll his thigh further, whimpering from the pressure on your clit.

"I'm s-so sorry." You whimpered, eyes pleading with he "It won't happen again."

"Won't happen what?" He tightened his grip on your chin, not painfully, but firmly to get your attention.

"It won't happen again, Sir."

The reward for your obedience came in an aggressive, hungry kiss, his hand in your chin dropping for your hip and wiggle his thigh at your needy pussy.

"Do you want to cum?" He teased you.

"Yes, S-sir."

"The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

Then, as if to reiterate his statement, his mouth clutte to yours once more, his thigh swayed with more vigor and his bare hands moved up to the neckline of your dress.

His warm palms and long fingers lowered the straps of your dress and released your braless breasts, your nipples hard with pleasure and your breasts swollen with arousal.

Your moan was muffled by Kaz's, and he just released your mouth to lower his lips to your left breast, capturing the innocent nipple with his mouth and rolling his tongue across your flesh. You moaned louder, your waist twisting desperately against his thigh as your hands tangled in the strands of his black hair.

Kaz delighted in every inch of you, his hands going back to your waist as his mouth attacked your other breast, leaving a trail of hot saliva on his tight, needy nipples. Brekker was consumed by a fierce hunger and need, so overpowering that he pressed his fingers to your skin as if you were his last meal. He'd wanted for so long to do all that, to dive into your body like a starving man, savoring every inch of your warm skin.

Letting out a loud, delighted moan, Kaz increased his thigh movements as he suckled on your nipple, feeling flung to hell heaven as you squealed softly and collapsed onto his thigh, smearing his black fabric with your hot cum. But Kaz couldn't care less about the fucking pants. His cock hard and rigid as a sword hilt throbbed desperately, commanding him to sink into the heat of your slippery walls.

"This is much better than I dreamin." You whimpered softly, your face still buried in his neck, your waist wiggling slyly in his thigh.

"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" He teased you, taking his hands to your panties away from the center of your pussy and pulling them between your legs, tucking them in his pants pocket.

You nodded, your mouth dipping into his neck in broken kisses as your hands went to his pants belt, trying to get rid of any barrier between the two of you as quickly as possible.

"Please, please." You begged, flustered as Kaz stopped your hip movements with his hands "I need to feel you inside me."

Your plea was sated with an arrogant kiss as Kaz reached for his pants, pulling the fabric of the boxer together and letting pop out his dick throbbing, pulsing and his swollen head, brushing in your pussy with lazy strides.

"S-sir!" You cried, trying to earn more.

"Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you."

The strong, long arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your chest against his chest as Kaz guided his dick to the entrance to your pussy, with one hand. He play whit you, pressing his head into your entrance just enough to make you feel the pressure, recoiling when you swayed frantically for more. The painful pleasure sent tears to your eyes, and you sobbed loudly as you were just toy in his hands.

A few hot tears ran down your face as you whimpered, helpless in his arms to get what you wanted.

"You know, you look real pretty when you cry." Kaz pressed his mouth to yours.

In that second, he completely sank his dick into you, swallowing your loud scream as the thickness of it widened you and hit the bottom of the well. The grip of his arm around you tightened, and Kaz lifted you and brought you let down badly, drown his dick even more deeply inside your hot, wet, desperate walls.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, his mouth leaving yours, but not pulling away enough and letting you feel his hard breath hit your lips.

You followed his thrusts, bouncing your waist up and down hard and letting his dick beat frantically inside you, robbing you of your breath and your ability to think. Your moans mingled with his, the pornographic sounds of their bodies crashing together were loud and you thanked God the car windows were black and the street was deserted.

"So fucking good slut!" Kaz growled against your lips, one hand leaving your body to snake down to your throat, maintaining a firm, dominant grip.

You moaned his name and his title between loud moans and broken sobs. Yours hands closed around the shirt off his shoulders and the waist shimmied between the thrusts, making sure his dick was completely inside you.

“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat!” Kaz tightened his grip on yoir neck, watching you tilt your head back and expose your entire body to the delight of his eyes.

He growled louder, spurred on by that sinful sight, and increased the rhythm that pounded inside you, filling every inch of you and sinking down as anatomically as possible. Kaz felt possessed by a wild beast, insatiable and euphoric, and each thrust he gave you was more force he inflicted on you, marking you as his.

Kaz pulled your neck to him, pressing your mouth to his as he growled against your lips: “Mine.”

You nodded frantically, the apex bursting in a burst of pleasure as his dick came out and sank in hard, desperate, urgent strokes.

“Yours”

You promised, kissing him urgently and swallowing a low cry as his dick shuddered inside you, flooding you with the hot liquid until your walls overflowed, giving you a feeling of being incredibly full. You whimpered into his mouth, exchanging a sloppy kiss as Kaz gave you a few more thrusts, making sure his cum would fill your every inch, not letting you dare waste a drop.

“Mine” he repeated through the kiss.

so, the weather??? HAHAHA, anyway friends, i hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget consult the rules if you want to request for some Kaz smut. Love u. O

[thesunicarusfellfor]

icarus my beloved, may i please request for a zombie apocalypse au (dsmp) and the characters haven’t seen you ever since the apocalypse started and they’ve been trying to find you for a long time, but once they finally find you, you’re already turned. basically how different dsmp characters would react to finding you turned as a zombie :> also i find your stuff ✨imaculate✨

and may i pls be ur 🌧anon?

I lovvvvveeeee Zombie apocalypse AUs. I'm very excited to write this. Also, thank you! I appreciate your compliment!

Yes, you can be! I'll eventually make an Anon list... Eventually.

In order of: Dream, Bad, Tommy (and Tubbo?), Ranboo, Ghostbur, Philza

Tommy's story is Bench Trio while Ranboo's story is more around Boreal Boys.

The Boreal Boys is set around the Antarctic Empire rather than the DSMP.

Edit: Trying to put a cut in. 50/50 on whether or not it worked.

DSMP Reacting to You Being Turned Into A Zombie (Multiple x GN!Reader)

They grunted, stepping over a fallen log as they yanked a crossbow bolt out of the skull of a fallen zombie, shoving it into their bag where other bolts and arrows were wrapped up. Ignoring the murmuring of their companion(s) as they looked over the faces of rotten flesh, thankfully none of them striking a familiar chord in their mind.

"They could still be alive..." They murmured softly under their breath as they walked back to the campsite that they and their companion(s) had originally set up. With a sigh, they plopped down in front of the crackling flame and adjusted the food that had been cooking before a horde of zombies had made their way through the makeshift barricade.

Ignoring the snores of their sleeping 'teammate(s) of survival', they eagerly dug into the food after it finished cooking before pausing mid-bite as they heard a crackling in the branches. Drawing their sword out from the sheath on their hip while they set their food down back into the pan, they spun around to face their possible attacker, silently hoping it was a wild animal they could use for meat, wool or feathers.

Glancing through the forest, they squinted as they saw movement but the firelight only spread so far which wasn't enough to shed light on the figure. With a sigh, they took a burning branch from the fire and lifted it, beginning to walk forward.

Judging by the guttural growls, groans, and scent of rotting flesh, it was definitely a zombie. Lifting the makeshift torch enough, they were able to see the undead being better and squinted, trying to recognize the creature before it turned around.

(H/c) hair... Albeit matted and overgrown, and torn clothing loosely hanging to their rotten skin... But when the zombie turned their head... They'd recognize them anywhere... Even after so long...

(Y/n).

Dream

His breath caught in his throat temporarily and he felt the torch slip from his hand, but it didn't fall.

Gritting his teeth together, he cringed and gripped onto the damaged smiling mask he usually wore.

"Fuck... (Y/n)... FUCK!" He took a few steps back to avoid the lame swipes you took at him.

He was thankful that your movement was hindered to the point where your steps were small shuffles.

"You promised..." He whispered, looking down at his trademark symbol.

It was a gift from you. Two years ago... You had promised... You promised that you would be okay...

And now here you were... Lifeless but alive... Groaning and gnashing your teeth at him...

He faintly heard the pounding footsteps of George and Sapnap behind him, likely having heard him yell.

"Dream?!" George yelled before the steps immediately came to a stop.

"Is that..."

"They promised..." He whined softly before pinching his eyes shut again as anger quickly overtook him. With a fierce battle cry, he swung his sword.

The strike was sloppy, filled with emotion and too much power. He had a feeling that if Technoblade was around still, he would be mocked to death for such a shitty swing.

But this was a brainless corpse. They couldn't rub two brain cells together to even think about dodging. This wasn't his smart, clever... Cunning... Alive... (Y/n)...

So it hit.

The gleaming diamond sword sliced through the rotten skin like a hot knife through butter, especially easier due to the Fire Aspect engraved into the sword.

He took a sharp intake of breath as he heard the horrible screeching noises that came from you as you sunk to the ground, desperately reaching out to him in one last attempt to get even a taste of his flesh.

He turned from your burning body and placed his mask on to cover his face before his friends saw the silver tears in the corners of his eyes, "Let's go."

"Dre-"

"I said, let's go."

They decided not to comment further.

Bad

He slowly felt the torch slip from his grasp and clatter to the ground, burning the dew-soaked grass it had landed on but it didn't matter.

Groaning and snarling at him, you lamely stumbled forward to grab at him, but he grabbed you first.

The Demon cringed slightly at the feel of rotten flesh beneath his fingers, but he held you back from walking forward.

He dodged the gnashing of your teeth as you tried to bite his arm, but he couldn't bring himself to bring the sword through your chest to finally end your suffering...

He glanced in the direction of the camp where Skeppy was still asleep, hopefully anyway...

Bad knew Skeppy would never agree to keep you around, even if you had once been someone very important to him.

Neither of them knew how zombie bites would affect Diamond Sprites or Demons, and weren't too eager to find out.

"(Y/n)... You muffin..." He put a hand on your chin, preventing you from chomping on his arms, "I wish... I wish I could've said goodbye..."

"Maybe I could've protected you..."

"Would you still be alive if I hadn't stormed out that day?"

He continued whispering questions to your mindless form, but his only responses were watery gurgles and the odd groan.

"Muffin... I'm so sorry..." He whispered, lowering his head to look down at you better, lava tears dripping down his cheeks and landing on your rotting away face, causing horrible screeches and snarls to escape from you, but you didn't yank away.

"Bad?!" Skeppy's voice came from the camp, and he looked over his shoulder to stare at the Diamond Sprite, "What... Why are you..."

"I-I... Skeppy... Do you think... If I had done anything different... They'd be alive?" He whispered, moving aside to let his small friend see his former friend.

The blue-skinned male sighed and loaded an arrow into his bow and grabbed onto the string, getting ready to pull it back, "Bad... You can't rewrite history... What's done is done, it's too late for them..."

"Can... Can you...? I don't think I can..." He whispered and finally let go of you, causing your balance to be set off.

The second he turned his back, he heard the stretching of a bowstring before releasing it. He shut his eyes tightly as he heard the familiar impact of a bow hitting mostly rotten but still solid flesh.

He didn't turn around, instead choosing to keep his head down as his friend brought him back to the camp.

"Goodbye, (Y/n)..."

Tommy (and Tubbo?)

He was frozen stiff, his grip tightening on his sword and the torch as he stared down the undead being.

Honestly, if anyone had asked him why he was still fighting through this damned apocalypse, he would say that he was fighting to survive.

No. He was fighting to make sure you were still alive...

Now, what was left?

"For fuck's sake! You were supposed to be alive!" He yelled, no doubt waking up the camp of other survivors.

"You were the only one- Dammit, (Y/n)!" He cried, ignoring the tears running down his cheeks as he threw a punch that connected to your jaw, cracking the weakened bone almost instantly and causing it to hang like an angered Enderman.

He continued to shout at your undead form and cry, ignoring the worried calls and frantic scrambling of his friends from back at the camp.

"You used to be such a great fighter, and you lost to FUCKING ZOMBIES!" He swung his arms around, his mind barely cluing into the fact that he dropped his sword and torch, "You almost beat Technoblade for fuck's sake! Technoblade! And-and..."

'No. No. Stay angry. They lost the fight. They- Don't mourn their stupidity...' He crumpled to the ground in despair, his tears dropping into his lap as he quickly grew deaf to the sound of shuffling feet.

Luckily, someone ran past him and shoved you to the ground with a shield, sending you rolling into a puddle of mud.

"Tommy!" Tubbo cried, setting down the shield as Ranboo quickly looked him over for any bite marks or injuries.

Once he found none, he gave a large sigh of relief and looked over at the corpse that Tubbo had shield bashed away from his friend, "Oh... Wait..." He frowned, struggling to remember the face that was struggling to crawl their way over to them through the mud.

"That's (Y/n)..." Tommy murmured, sounding rather numb, Tubbo and Ranboo noted, "They taught me and Tubbo to fight, back before we lost L'Manberg... They practically raised us... Despite being a similar age... They were so strong... and brave..."

Tubbo's breath hitched as he took another look at the growling creature desperate to feast on their flesh, "N-No... They're too strong to- I don't- No- No!"

"Guys... I know- I- No, I don't know... But we have to leave. They're going to call more zombies- And... We have to kill them..." Ranboo whispered, flinching a bit when Tubbo and Tommy whipped their heads in his direction, fire burning in their eyes.

Tommy's inner flame was the first to die out.

"I know..." He whispered, ignoring Tubbo's cries of protest as he picked up the diamond sword, twisting it in his hand and watching as the torchlight reflected off of it.

"You can't kill them, Tommy- They're like our older sibling-... Were... like... Our older sibling..." Tubbo corrected himself with hesitance and a sniffle as he looked away.

He turned back to your gurgling form and walked over, moving his feet away from your grabs at his ankles while raising his sword.

With a sharp intake of breath, tears continuing to drip down his cheeks as he rose his sword, "I'm sorry..." He whispered before bringing it down through your chest.

Ranboo

Sure, his memory was bad, but he could NEVER forget the face of the name that was scrawled through his memory book.

He stumbled backwards and tripped over a log with a small yelp, his sword and torch falling from his grip.

The water from the recent rain seeping through his torn clothing caused his skin to hiss, and a small whine tore from his throat as he scrambled backwards.

His noises of pain and distress failed to scare the zombie of his former best friend off, instead only persuaded them to lazily drag their feet towards him a little quicker.

Thankfully, although he was deaf to it amidst his panic and sobs, heavy footsteps and the ruffle of feathers echoed through the forest.

"Ranboo?! Mate, are you okay!?" Hands flew to his shoulders while a pink and red blur hopped the log he had tripped on to start a brawl with the zombie.

"DON'T HURT THEM!" He wailed to Techno, fighting against the hands that held his shoulders to reach out at the zombie.

"Heh?!" Techno used his shield to hold you back, dodging the swipes you took at him with your unkempt nails, "Ranboo! They're dead! A zombie!"

Ranboo sobbed louder, fighting the urge to cover his ears at the horrible words, "(Y/n) isn't dead... They aren't... They can't be! No... no...!"

Calloused hands carded through his black and white hair, which would've calmed him down on a normal day, but now... How could he feel anything but despair? His best friend was now a lifeless being...

They promised that they'd see him again, alive, not like THIS!

"Ranboo..." Phil murmured from behind him, likely having finished checking him for bites. The avian pulled him into his chest, allowing him to bawl his eyes out, the fabric muffling his desperate wails and preventing the tears from burning his skin too much.

"You- you said a gapple and a weakness potion could turn them back, right?!" Ranboo cried, looking up at the elder male, "C-can't we try it out on them?!"

Phil and Techno were silent, and the only sounds that were heard were the crackling fire back at the camp and the gurgles of his former best friend.

Perhaps he panicked himself into a light-headed state, or maybe his memory was worse than before because the next thing he knew Techno was dragging a chained and growling corpse while Philza was practically carrying the enderboy who was pretty much twice his height.

The next few days felt like a fever dream. He spent most of his time sitting in front of a cage where the corpse of his friend laid on the cold stone ground.

Phil had doused them in a splash potion of weakness and forced a golden apple down their throat a few hours after they caged them, now it was Ranboo's job to watch over them for any changes and write them down.

"Yeah then Me, Phil and Techno travelled out of the Tundra back on the DreamSMP, and we made our way to the Antarctic, back to the old Empire that they used to rule over..." He rambled onto your lifeless corpse, reading through his memory book to continue telling you stories, even if you were dead.

"Ran...Boo..."

"(Y-Y/n)?!" He threw the book aside and ran over to the cage, only to see the corpse had gained more of a human flesh tone rather than a sickening green, and formerly black, now (e/c) eyes were staring up at the stone bricks that made up the roof.

Ghostbur

He absolutely lit up with a happy squeal.

"(Y/n)! I knew you would make it through this whole apocalypse thing!" The ghost walked over and put his hand on your shoulder, brushing off the way that you didn't flinch away from the intense cold that radiated off of him.

You only continued walking...

"Oh? Do you know of any shelter? Lead the way then!" He chirped, pulling on the lead that was hooked up to the blue sheep he knew as Friend.

The two of you walked through the forests, Ghostbur blabbering away about memories he had involving you both, but he had a tight grasp on something blue the entire time.

You never responded to him, other than the odd groan or gurgle, but the ghost never found anything wrong with it.

Inside, he knew that you were an animated corpse. He knew that you would never be able to lose your three canon lives, and become a ghost.

Instead, you were stuck as a corpse that would perpetually come back to life over and over again until your body completely got destroyed.

Every time he looked at your growling form, he wanted to feel happy, you were back travelling with him! But... You weren't the same person...

"Wil- Ghostbur!" A voice came from behind him, and he saw the father of Aliverbur standing in front of him, sword at the ready.

"Phil!" He chirped, moving beside you and holding your shoulder, so you didn't run towards Philza, "Hey, how's it going man?" He smiled widely.

The flightless avian put his hand on his hat as he watched you reach towards him uselessly, being held back by the ghost of his son, "Ghostbur... That's not..."

"(Y/n)? Yes, it is!" He continued to smile, although it seemed a little forced, "It's just been a while, don't be so negative, Philza Minecraft!"

He sighed heavily, "Wil, that is not (Y/n) anymore. They are a senseless mob!" He reached for his sword, only to blink when Ghostbur quickly ran in front of you.

"No, no! It is! It is them!" He sobbed, his tears burning his transparent skin as his body shook with horrible coughs. "Please... It is... It is..."

"Okay, okay." He put his sword in the sheath and held up his hands in surrender to make Ghostbur stop crying, "It is, it's (Y/n)... Go say hi to Techno and get some food for Friend... I'm going to talk to them."

Ghostbur wiped his eyes with his sweater and eagerly nodded, "Okay! I haven't spoken to Techno in so long, I hope he's been doing okay..." He continued to ramble as he walked to the attached cabins next to the mountain, dragging Friend along.

Philza turned back to you and drew his sword, watching as you dragged your feet through the snow to reach him, "I'm sorry, (Y/n)... He just... Doesn't understand that you're stuck suffering..."

"Philzaaaa!" Ghostbur skipped out the door, pulling his blue sheep along as Philza sheathed his netherite sword, "Where did (Y/n) go?"

The avian folded his wings to his back under his cape as he looked over his shoulder, "Oh, they were going towards the portal. They said they would be back soon."

"Oh, they finally spoke? I'm so proud of them! I'll wait for them here!" Ghostbur smiled widely, completely unaware of the burning corpse hidden behind the trees.

Philza

Maybe he should've felt something more...?

Then again... He was the Angel of Death, he caused and attracted death like a magnet with a knife.

He swung his sword simply, watching as the corpse burned and crumpled to the ground before him with desperate wails and growls.

First Wilbur... Then Tommy... Now (Y/n)... Who was next, Ranboo or Techno?

He sighed, turning away from yet another person who had meant the world to him but was now nothing but rotting burnt flesh on the stark white snow.

"Phil!" Ranboo gave a chirping noise, a static-filled deformed mimic of one of the noises he often made due to his avian genetics, "Are you alright? One of the traps went off an-"

He wanted to smile, he did. He wanted to tell the boy who was practically shaking with worry as he checked him for bites that he was alright.

"It... Was (Y/n)..." He murmured softly, feeling... Oddly calm about the situation... Or was that empty? It was like how he felt after he killed his son...

Ranboo's bi-coloured eyes slowly rose up to meet Phil's blue ones and almost cringed as he saw that he was practically looking through him, "You... Mean, your..."

"Yeah... That's them. B-But it's okay-" He went to say but Ranboo gave an upset growl sort of noise as his monochrome tail wrapped around one of his lanky and abnormally long legs.

"Okay?! Phil, you just killed one of the most important people in your life... You- You aren't okay! You're numb!" The Enderman grabbed his shoulders... And the feeling of floating that he hadn't even noticed came to a sudden halt.

Oh. He was numb... That's why he didn't feel it...

Wait when did Ranboo bring him inside?

He slowly glanced out the window to see the sun had set long ago, and the fire in the fireplace had practically died out. Ranboo was curled up on the couch on the other side of him, and Techno was nowhere to be seen.

'I killed them... Without a second thought...' His mind caught up with the situation much slower than his body had, and he slouched against the arm of the couch he was propped up against.

'I killed them like I killed Wilbur...'

'Terrible person... Horrible...'

'I kill everyone I love...'

'Techno and Ranboo are left... They're in danger from you too...'

"Phil?" A hand grabbed one of the ones that were entangled in his long golden locks, "Hey, hey... I want you to listen to my voice, okay? You're okay... Follow my breathing..."

When did he start crying?

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Stolen Stamps

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Stolen Passport Oneshot

“You took me on a trip just to break up with me so I stole your passport” - Prompt from @dailyau

I don't know where this came from, it just kinda happened, enjoy! Minor Chaolaena, Rowaelin endgame

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2494 words

*******

The faint hum of the air condition filled the meticulously organized room in the back of the post office.

“Ms. Galathynius,” A deep, accented voice addressed her.

Her gaze on the tall bookshelf in the corner jerked back to the man sitting across from her behind his desk. His hands were crossed, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows, exposing part of a tattoo that wrapped around his muscular arm. She tried not to watch as the muscles shifted as he leaned forward when he spoke to her.

“Can you please explain to me why you were trying to mail a very,” He paused, glancing at the messily-wrapped bundle on the center of his desk, “suspicious-looking package to the Adarlan embassy in Antica?”

Aelin opened her mouth to try to explain, but no words came out.

He raised a silver eyebrow and waited.

She sighed, “I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”

***

The cab ride to the airport was a blur. So was the flight, and the ride to her hotel. It wasn’t until Aelin locked the door of her hotel room and set down her bags, that the events of the day finally hit her.

Whether it was adrenaline or shock or relief, she couldn’t be sure. Aelin fell back onto the bed and rubbed her face, groaning. She thought back to that morning when everything had been fine.

Fine, not great, just fine. That’s how things always felt with Chaol, just fine.

Her brain was still working through what happened when she jolted up from the bed, eyes wide.

“Shit. What did I do?”

Aelin scrambled towards her purse and rummaged through it. She couldn’t find it; maybe she didn't take it. She turned the bag upside down over the bed and watched as her things fell out. She pushed aside her little paperback mystery novel, her lipstick, her boarding pass, she moved aside a wrinkled coupon and froze.

“Fuck.”

***

After wearing a track into the carpet with her pacing, Aelin decided to call Lysandra. It was going about as well as she expected.

“Lysandra, I did a bad thing.”

Aelin chewed her fingernail between her teeth, a bad habit she couldn’t kick when she was stressed, as she tried to tell her best friend what just happened. She was standing on the small balcony of her hotel hoping the fresh air would help clear her mind. So far, it wasn't doing a great job.

“Aelin,” Lysandra’s voice sounded amused through her phone, “This is you were talking about, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin ran a hand through her hair. “I did a petty, horrible, impulsive, really bad thing.”

There was a long pause as Lysandra seemed to realize how serious Aelin sounded.

“Okay. Now I’m getting worried.” Then a sharp gasp, “Was it illegal? Have you been arrested? Are you calling me from a foreign prison?”

“Lys—” Aelin tried cutting in, she wanted to stop the hysterics before her friend’s imagination got out of hand.

“When you told me you were going on a trip with Chaol I thought you’d be spending time on the beach, not using me as your one phone call from a dirty jail cell hundreds of miles away!”

“Lysandra!”

“And where’s Chaol? Is he there with you?”

“Lysandra, stop! I haven’t been arrested, I’m not in prison, I’m fine. Actually, I’m great.” Aelin closed her eyes and sighed, trying to scrounge up some guilt but failing. “Actually, it's because I’m feeling great that makes what I did so much worse, because I don’t really feel bad about it.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” Her friend's voice echoed in her ear. “If you’re fine, then tell me what happened and tell me why you’re calling me at,” she paused and groaned, “six in the morning.”

“Sorry,” Aelin winced, “I’m still on a different time frame.”

“Still? Where are you now? Are you not in Antica anymore?”

“Slow down, Lys.” Aelin loosed a breath and ran a hand through her hair, “I’m back in Terrasen.”

“What? When did you get back?” Lysandra sounded confused, and Aelin couldn't blame her, after all, she was supposed to be in Antica for four more days.

“Today. Less than an hour ago. I’m at a hotel, I just needed to clear my head.”

After a moment of silence, Lysandra asked again, “Where’s Chaol? Have you talked to him about whatever this is? Not that he’d help much “Lysandra muttered the last part, but Aelin still heard.

Here we go, Aelin thought, “No. We broke up.”

“What?” Lysandra was definitely awake now. “Really? Oh, honey, I’m sorry if you’re hurting, but good for you, I never really liked him.”

“Yeah, I know.” Aelin barked a wry laugh, “He dumped me, actually.”

“He dumped you?”

Aelin barked another laugh, getting angry as she told Lysandra the rest, “Get this, that bastard invited me on this trip specifically to break up with me”

“What the actual fuck?”

“Yeah, and honestly?” Aelin took a deep breath, feeling a mess of emotions as she explained. “I can’t blame him.” She amended herself quickly at Lysandra's sound of protest, “I don’t mean about taking me on a trip to do it, because that’s fucked up, but I mean the actual breaking up part. I knew it was going to happen sooner or later, it was more about who would pull the trigger first. Come on, Lys, you knew I was more excited to spend a week on the beach than to spend a week with him.”

Lysandra snorted, “Yeah, Ace, I knew that. I was hoping you realized that, too.”

“Well, I did. So, I left. I’m back in Terrasen, there was no way I was staying there with him any longer, that would’ve been too weird.”

Aelin could hear Lysandra’s coffee machine buzz to life through the phone and suddenly wished she had a cup of coffee. Once she figured this mess out, she’d go find a cafe.

“Right. Okay,” The brunette’s voice rang out, “let me get this straight, Chaol took you on a trip solely to break up with you, and now you’re back in Terrasen while he’s still on the Southern Continent. I’m still not seeing what exactly you did that’s making you freak out.”

At that, Aelin flopped back onto the bed and flung an arm over her face, groaning.

“I know breaking up with Chaol is for the best, Hellas, I feel relieved. But at that moment, I was so angry. I was furious that he’d take me on this trip instead of just doing it at home like a normal-fucking-person—I mean, who takes a break-up vacation? Anyways, when I was packing my things to leave, I, kinda, sorta, took something of his.”

“Aelin…what did you do?”

Aelin looked at the foot of the bed where the remains of her purse were strewn over the blanket. Her eyes caught on two matching little booklets with gold seals on them.

“I stole his passport.”

***

“Ms. Galathynius—”

“Aelin, please.” She cut off the silver-haired man behind the desk.

The only change in his stoic demeanor was a small twitch of his lips. “Aelin. Can you explain what exactly you’re trying to mail, that looks like that—”

‘That’ being the layers of spare newspaper she found tucked away in her hotel room haphazardly wrapped and tied with the thread from the complimentary sewing kit, also from her hotel room. She hadn’t been able to find any tape. Aelin thought if she brought it to the post office then she could re-package it with actual materials, but she’d chosen not to unwrap it before getting there. An obvious mistake.

“—to an official, protected, government Embassy?” His voice was stern and his green eyes steady.

This looked bad. Aelin could easily admit that this looked really bad.

She placed her hands on his desk and watched as his eyes tracked the movement. “I can explain. It's definitely not as bad as I’m sure you think it is.”

He remained silent, watching her expectantly.

She caught sight of the nameplate on the side of his desk. “Mr. Whitethorn—”

“Rowan, please.”

Did he sound amused?

Taking confidence from that, she sat up a little straighter and said, “Rowan,”

His mouth quirked a little higher as she said his name.

Clearing her throat, she started again, “Rowan, you can open the package, I assure you it's nothing bad. It’s just a passport.”

One of his eyebrows rose skeptically, “A passport?” He asked doubtfully.

“Yes, a passport. That’s why I was trying to send it to the embassy. It belongs to my b—ex.” She stumbled over the last word, still unused to Chaol’s new title.

He—Rowan—looked even more intrigued.

“You’re mailing your ex their passport, but decided to wrap it in the most suspicious, threatening way possible?”

Aelin winced. “I didn’t have many options.” She chuckled, remembering trying to tie the string together in the hotel bathroom’s fluorescent lights. “I thought I could fix it once I got here, but I didn’t even have a chance to ask for materials before being escorted in here.” She waved a hand vaguely and looked around his office.

Rowan was fully smirking now. He leaned back in his chair and watched her for a long moment. “It is my job to confiscate suspect packages. Especially when those packages are being sent to, say, a government building.”

Leaning forward slightly she smiled and told him, “Well, you seem to be very good at your job.”

Gods, was she flirting? She and Chaol literally just broke up. But she couldn’t deny she was attracted to Rowan. Not with the way his pine-green eyes lit up with amusement or the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he shifted in his chair. Not to mention that tattoo; she was a sucker for tattoos—and she’d never told him this, but it always disappointed Aelin that Chaol never even considered getting any ink.

Good gods, she was flirting. And not very well.

Still smirking, Rowan leaned forward and asked, “Care to tell me why you’re sending your ex their passport?”

Was it her imagination or did he say ‘ex’ like it was the most interesting word in his question.

She couldn't stop the small smile twisting her lips. “I don't see how the ‘why’ of it is any of your business.”

Rowan surveyed her and Aelin tried not to blush under his gaze. She couldn't stop herself from comparing him to Chaol, he never made her feel this flustered with just a stare. Rowan's eyes tracked her face, tracked the way her cheeks heated, and she tried with all her might to fight the blush.

She wasn’t a teenager with a crush, she was a woman who knew how good she looked and was very attracted to the man whose eyes had not stopped roaming over her. She fought down the blush and flipped her hair over her shoulder, smiling charmingly at him.

He seemed to like it and his grin widened before putting on a faux stern face.

“I try to be as thorough as possible, Aelin,” Gods, the way he said her name made her toes curl. “It would make things easier if you explained why. I could finish my paperwork quicker, get this thing sent off, and we’d both be free of this passport and your ex.”

Wow, he wasn't beating around the bush. She liked it.

He sent her a slow grin, “I’d be able to take my break at nine, and go for a cup of coffee.”

The way he said the last part left no room for guessing what he meant. He wanted to take her out for coffee.

A small part of her hesitated, she had just broken up with Chaol. But on the other hand, he took her on a fucking breakup vacation, so screw him and she could do whatever the hell she wanted. And she wanted Rowan. She wanted to go get coffee with Rowan.

So she smiled, winked at him, and said, “I’m mailing it back to him because I stole it from him.”

Rowan’s smile faltered and he blinked.

“You what?”

“I stole it from him.”

He stared at her another moment before a chuckle escaped his lips and he was shaking his head but smirking.

“You stole his passport.” He sounded very amused as he wrote a note down, most likely for the report he’d have to file.

“Yup,” Aelin’s grin turned feline, “He took me on vacation to break up with me, so I stole his passport and left him there.”

Rowan stopped writing and looked at her with raised eyebrows, “He’s still there? You have his passport, and now he’s stuck,” Rowan glanced at his notes, “in Antica?”

Aelin laughed; a loud, cheerful, sound that filled the office and pulled a small grin onto Rowan’s lips.

“Okay, I’m sure you think I’m a bit crazy,” Her grin didn't falter, “but it was impulsive and as soon as I realized what I actually did, you know, kinda leaving him stranded there, I tried to send it back to him. I couldn't remember what the hotel was, so I figured the embassy would be a good choice given it's a passport, and he is from Adarlan.”

“He’s from Adarlan, you’re not?” Rowan asked.

Aelin smirked, “That’s what you got from what I said?”

He matched her smirk, “That's what I want to know.”

“No,” Aelin shook her head and glanced out the window in his office, “I’m from here, Terrasen is in my blood.”

It seemed like that was the answer Rowan was looking for. He smiled, wrote down a final note, and looked back at her.

“I think that’s all I need right now, Aelin,” Again, the way he said her name sent butterflies flitting around her stomach.

He stood up and she did the same, pulling her purse back over her shoulder. He walked around his desk and opened the door for her.

“Aelin,” Rowan’s voice made her pause as she stood in the open doorway.

“Yes, Rowan?” she looked up at him expectantly with a small smile.

“I take my break in half an hour, there's a coffee shop just down the block, if you want to hang around or come back then, I'd like to take you out for coffee.”

Aelin smiled brightly at him and nodded, “I’d like that. I’ll come back in half an hour.”

He grinned and held her gaze another moment before she turned to leave.

“Oh, and Rowan?” She turned back to look at him but saw he already—or still—had his eyes on her.

“Yeah?”

“You don't have to use express shipping on that, it's fine if it takes a couple days.”

The sound of Rowan’s deep laughter followed her through the doors.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog

[calcifermovesthecastle]

S/o that asks for affection unconsciously when they wake up without even noticing (nsfw?), how would the Bucci gang + josuke + young joseph+ giorno react? :>

So I don’t age up characters for NSFW, so I’ll just do fluff for Narancia, Josuke, Fugo, Giorno and Trish, but I will add some Adult Characters with NSFW for your troubles. :) I’ll add a cut for the NSFW as well so anyone can read before the cut, but only 18+ after please!

Warnings: Language

Bucciarati (Fluff):

-He’s surprised when you hug him from behind when just standing around, or when you slip your hand in his just sitting, or stand behind him while he’s sitting and scratch his back (BLEASE DO THIS FOR HIM he will on god love you forever) 

-So when you two decide to move in, he’s also surprised to find that this carries over into sleeping. 

-He’ll wake up with you literally splayed out on top of him, And he blushes so hard. He’ll try to gently push you off of him back onto the bed, because surely you can’t be comfortable like that.

-Will immediately stop when you tighten your grip and stir, instead allowing his hands to rest on your back.

-He’s honestly not used to it but he will indulge you because god you’re so warm, and so soft and so beautiful in his arms. 

-You’ll notice when you’re awake that he’ll start to return your touches, leaning into your back scratches, squeezing your hand when you slip yours into his, Place his hands over your arms when you hug him from behind. 

-Will never say why, though. It’s his secret. 

Abbacchio (Fluff):

-You may not notice, but god, does he.

-He Panic. You’re half awake, and you just reach out and pull yourself closer to him, nuzzling your face into his chest, Your breath evening out. 

-Oh god what does he do with his hands are you even comfortable there’s no way you’re comfortable jesus what the hell

-He opts to push you away, but you tighten your hold, babbling something out in your sleep about being warm. 

-(He do be warm tho ngl) 

-It takes everything, and I mean, E v e r y t h i n g in him to give in and rest his arms around you, but once he does, and you snuggle even closer? God he’s in love. You’re literally the most precious thing to him. 

-When you’re awake tho he will absolutely push you off the bed without remorse. (Expect a top of the head kiss from him though he’s soft.) 

Mista (Fluff):

-He’s laying awake, tracing his finger along the wall, making damn sure the sex pistols don’t wake you. 

-In his distraction, you reach out, grasping his arm and hugging it. 

-(Arcana reference but Julian laugh) Oh ho ho!

-He takes note that you’re still asleep, and pulls you on top of him, securing his arms around you so that you don’t slip off. 

-Instead of tracing the wall, he will now be trailing his fingers up and down your arms and back, and through your hair. 

-His heart is melting you’re so god damn cute. He’ll tighten his grip, just gazing down at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. 

-He will tease the everloving shit out of you when you wake up. Like he will not stfu about it. 

-He will also be a million times more physically affectionate with you during the day lol it’s sickening

-He is NOT stinky JFC

Fugo: 

-Whaaaaat are you doing?

-Oh, you’re asleep.

-WHAAATTT ARE YOU DOIIINNNGGGGG

-He’ll stiffen up, but oh no you’re sleeping he cant just...push you away... he’s not heartless....

-He is confused to say the least, and a lil bit uncomfy, but he trusts you. 

-Watches as your features relax as your face presses into the crook of his neck and your arm tightens around his middle. Oh fuck you’re cute

-you’ve won him over. 

-He’ll wrap an arm around your waist, (So you don’t fall dsjdsjdsj) and let you be close to him. He enjoys it too, if he’s being honest. You’re so cute. 

-When you wake up, he’s much kinder and softer towards you. He’ll make any excuse to gently bump knees while you’re sitting or to brush his hand against yours while reaching for something. 

-Only because you asked for it tho

Narancia:

-Nani in tarnation is goin on?

-He’s completely taken by surprise. You’re asleep? And you want him? To hold you? ???? ?????? *Windows start up sounds* 

-He literally doesn’t know what to do He’s so soft and so confused with his negative brain cells (I do hate him but I will admit he does have a big heart he is a sweetie) 

-He will, a little too eagerly, hug you back. His tenacity may or may not wake you up. (It does. Sorry.) 

-You wake up to a surprise hug though so win win?

-The more you subconsciously ask, the more he gives, until you two are literally glued together. (Social distancing whomst? We don’t know her.) 

-Expect sloppy kisses everywhere. On the other hand, funnily enough, you will have to initiate the hugging. He’s so scared. What if he hugs you too tight? What if he wakes you up again? What if he suffocates you? What if you don’t like his hugs

-Hug him jfc he needs reassurance that you want to be held. 

-Sleepy morning hugs where you two are just breathing in sync and there’s not a care in the world are his favorite

Giorno-

-He is a light sleeper. I know I’ve said this before, but he is a very, very, very light sleeper. 

-So when you reach out and grasp at any piece of him you can reach, trying to close the gap between you (It’s a cold winter morning, come on) 

-He’ll startle awake and look over at you to check and see if you’re okay. 

-Oh, you are okay. Oh, you just want held? Alright. He’s up for that. Oh. You’re asleep? He’ll have to be especially careful to not wake you. 

-He will pull you close and rub circles into your back, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. He might even fall back asleep. If you stir, it’s not for long. His warmth and soothing movements lull you back to sleep in the safety of his arms. 

-When you’re awake, he’ll definitely be more affectionate, pressing tiny flowers into your hands, brushing your hair back, k i s s i n g y o u r k n u c k l e s (Im so fucking soft) 

-But seriously imagine Giorno getting down on one knee, taking your hand, and brushing his lips against your knuckles while looking up at you with literally nothing but love and affection in his eyes im going to cry

-Anything he does will have you a blushing mess

Trish:

-Who tf is waking her up? 

-oh, it’s you

-Oh, you’re hugging her

-OH, You’re still asleep.

-O H, you’re fucking cute!

-She’ll study you for a minute, before reaching up to lightly cup your cheek in her hand, careful not to wake you up. Her fingers will flutter over your face, tracing your features. She absolutely adores how precious you look snuggled up against her. 

-When you wake up, expect to have your hand held all day. Trish is the queen of hand holding. She will also take your face in her hands and kiss the corners of your lips, and rest her head on your shoulder when you two are sitting next to each other.  

-She’ll have this smug look on her face the whole time too dsjdsjdsjdsjds 

-Will absolutely do the disgusting feeding each other thing. “Babe, try this!” *Proceeds to hold forkful of food in front of your mouth. “Oh, that looks good, can I have some?” *Lets you do the same* 

-It’s revolting and I love it. 

Joseph (Fluff):

-He’s already awake. He’s got to get up early and train (Viva reverie reference: “With these tall hat guys for a looooong time!”)  But oops, you just so happened to burrow against him, and your arm seems to have found its way across his stomach. What a predicament, you’re still asleep! He can’t wake you!

-He decides that he just doesn’t have the heart to move you, and wraps his arms around you to pull you even closer. What if you get cold? He’s warm, you’ll be warm next to him!

-He will hold you against him until you wake up, no matter how late it makes him. Punishments be damned. You’re way too cute and this opportunity is way too good to pass up. 

-In all honesty though he’s elated that you want him to hold you. This carries over into you being awake. He’ll be hanging off of you. Hell, He’ll carry you around if you give the okay. He will absolutely kneel so he can carry you around on his shoulders. 

-He’s very handsy, so rip to your personal space. You asked for it, after all. You wanna sit in that chair over there? Aww, that’s too bad. He’s your chair now. 

-Are you complaining tho? He’s got some thicc thighs, you’ll be pretty comfy. 

-Psst his hands are gonna be like twice your size compare hand sizes he will love it

Josuke:

-He’s already cuddly bb

-But if on the rarest of rare occasions he either 1.) wakes up before you or 2.) Isnt already holding you, and you press closer to him in your sleep, just maybe ball his shirt up in your fists as you clutch at him, yearning for the affection you’re too scared to ask for when you’re awake

-Oh god he cry

-He cry so hard

-He is the (Parker James’ Steven Voice) CEO of bear hugs. Especially if someone as adorable as you is cuddling up against him.

-He will pull you up against him and bury his face in your hair, maybe even falling back asleep himself. (good luck getting out of his embrace when he’s asleep lol There’s no chance.) 

-it is always a nice surprise to wake up cocooned in his arms, his entire body wrapped around you. 

-When you’re both awake, He’ll do lots of little things for you. Absentmindedly rub your back and shoulders, sling an arm around your shoulders, link pinkies, hold hands, forehead kisses

-He will lift you up and spin you around and kiss you but shh don’t tell anyone

-He is

-so GOD damn soft I love him 

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

18+ ONLY

BUCCIARATI:

-He’s in the midst of registering being awake, getting prepared for the day, when he notices that you’re uh

-he can’t help his erection when he sees you bury your face in his neck and grind your hips against him. You’re still asleep, what could you possibly be dreaming about? 

-Oh god if he hears you whimper his name it’s all over for you. 

-Shakes your shoulder, peering into your sleep-gripped eyes and smiles nervously. 

-”Tesoro, would you mind if I made love to you before I left for work?” 

-Your lips on his are answer enough. He’ll thrust into you at a slow, sensual speed, showering you in praises, leaving soft kisses all over your body. Never marking, but always making sure the feeling of his mouth lingers on your skin. 

-He will speak only in italian during this time, so unless you know italian, don’t count on understanding anything he says. (You’ll have a pretty good Idea of what he means tho 👀)

-He will absolutely make sure you won’t be getting out of bed for the rest of the day. He definitely has a way of making your body melt under his touch. He’s never rough. He’s so, so gentle with you, and you’d be surprised how quickly he can have you cumming because of it. 

-If you ask nicely, he’ll stay in bed with you for a little longer afterwards, pressing kisses into your hair and telling you how much he cherishes you

-”You don’t have to be afraid, dolcezza. My arms are always open for you. You’ll find in them nothing but home.” 

ABBACCHIO: 

-Did you just grab his tiddies?

-He’s in the middle of telling you off when he sees that you’re asleep, mumbling about how you want him to take you, grinding against him. 

-Something feral awakens in him at the sight of you, unknowingly begging for him, and he grabs your wrists, flipping you fast, waking you, and leaning over you, his breath hot against your ear. 

-”Dolcezza, Is it okay if I fuck you?” 

-The answer is yesssssssss

-Oh bby he is R o u g h. He’ll use his stand to hold your arms above your head and push your legs up so far that your thighs will be pressed against your chest, and he will pound into you with a speed and force that’s almost inhuman

-He will kiss you hard, and long, so that when he pulls away, you’re gasping for air, your lips bruised, your eyes rolled into the back of your head. 

-Any qualms he has about being this close to you are out the door. You’ll have deep handprints in your legs from where he was holding them, and the darker the bruise he leaves with his mouth, the happier he is. He doesn’t care where he leaves them, either. Expect some on your chin, your neck, your chest, anywhere he can reach, honestly. But if your lips are bruised, that’s what satisfies him the most. 

-You’ll definitely cum more than once, and once he cums, it’s hard, and he’ll pull you flush against him, breathing heavily, burying his face in your shoulder. Tell him it’s okay, because once he’s come down from his high, his fear that he hurt you is overwhelming. He loves you, after all. Reassure him. Hold him close, and don’t let go. 

MISTA: 

-(Once again Julian laugh) Oh ho ho! 

-He’s gonna watch for a minute, but wake you up if the pressure becomes too much for him. He’ll give you a moment to wake up, and then ask you to fuck. 

-(Yes yes yes) 

-He’s like a mix of Abbacchio and Bucciarati. Rough and kinky, but will literally shower you in praise and affection. 

-He likes tugging your hair while taking you from behind (If you have hair. If not, his hands will grip your waist, or reach around to rub your clit/stroke your cock depending. 

-He will kiss down your back while leaning over you, making sure to leave little marks that’ll last, but not long 

-Definitely makes you cum before he does, but if he can, really enjoys cumming together. To him, it adds to the intimacy of the moment. 

-”Oh, Bombolone, do you need me so much that You want me even in your dreams? I’ll wake you each time, I need you more than you know. You are so perfect. You are so wonderful, and adorable, and I love you so much.” 

-He will literally not shut the fuck up during sex but it’s okay because it’s all sweet and loving. 

JOSEPH: 

-Oh jesus christ stroke his ego why dontcha

-if you’ve discussed it beforehand, and you’re into Somnophilia, he’ll fuck you right there. But if not, He’ll take the time to wake you, his ears burning red. 

-”Oi, babe, You were holding onto me kinda tight and grinding your hips against my leg. If you want me that bad, say something.”  

-He will destroy you. Something about seeing you want him when you’re not even aware of what you’re doing? OOF. 

-He also has a bad case of not shutting the fuck up during sex. 

-The best remedy to this is to just pull him down into a kiss while he’s snapping his hips against yours. Hold it for as long as possible. It’ll make his heart happy if you’re bold enough to initiate a kiss as well. 

-He cums before you but will help you cum as well, whether it be eating you out/blowjob or fingering you/handjob. (If you’re AMAB then he’ll let you return the favor tbh) 

-Will shamelessly ask you for a blowjob. If you indulge him, he’s on cloud nine, His hands weaved into your hair, watching your every move as your mouth closes around his cock and your tongue swirls around him. It takes all of his self control not to throat fuck you. 

-Once you’ve reached your limit, he’ll help you into the shower and massage wherever’s sore, washing you off with a gentleness that’s a stark contrast to his movements prior. 

BONUS GYRO

-When did you end up in his sleeping bag? 

-He’s awake before you or Johnny, and he notices you’ve burrowed yourself close to him. You’re also

-Nyo-ho. Oh are you also. 

-He’ll shake your shoulder, and once you’re awake, he’ll flash his grill and lean in, whispering in your ear

-”D’you wanna fuck me that bad that you’re doing it in your sleep, doll?” 

-Who cares if johnny’s sleeping right over there, with your consent, he’s inside of you faster than anything. He’ll give you a moment to adjust to him, and then start off slow, massaging your hips and thighs, whispering how amazing you are. 

-He goes slow, but makes sure he’s down to his full length with every thrust, pressing his lips into the corners of your mouth, then crashing them directly against your lips, not letting you come up for air until your legs are trembling around him. 

-He won’t change things up until he hears a “Please” 

-That’s his favorite word. If you groan out a “Please, Gyro,” And your voice cracks, oh, are you in for a t r e a t. 

-He’ll make you see stars, but shh, don’t get too loud, doll. Johnny’s asleep. If you’re being too loud, he’ll cover your mouth with his hand. 

-Please hold onto him. Wrap your arms and legs around him while he fucks you. He loves it so much. 

-Once you’ve cum, he tumbles not long after, blurting out something in italian that you can only hope to understand if you don’t speak it. (Hint: It’s praises for you and your body.) 

-Once he’s done, he falls back down next to you, pulling you close and pressing his lips to your forehead, deciding that It can be a later start than usual today. Besides, you look so cute curled up against him like that, doll. 

[peachyysugaa]

sloth and sheep

― yang jungwon x gn!reader

your best friend is acting weird, what seems to be the cause?

genre: fluff, school au, best friends to lovers

warnings: some teasing but it's jungwon what do you expect

wc: 1.3k

a/n: done with my last final! as a gift for being so patient, i wrote this while i was studying and to give myself motivation LOL i'll return with blood castle soon!! ^^

♞──────────────────────────♞

the scribbling of pencils hurriedly rushing to finish their last markings is all you can hear as your teacher counts down. everyone is quickly trying to jot down their final words for the essay.

"3... 2... 1... and stop!" your teacher shouts. some students groan at their inability to finish whereas some let out a sigh of relief. "pencils down, pass your papers to the front please. after that, you're free to go! have a nice summer, everyone!"

you pass your paper to your classmate kim sunoo in front of you. a smile graces his face as he takes it and continues passing the stack. you're packing up your supplies with a steady heartbeat before you hear footsteps approaching. you don't need to look up to know who it is.

"hurry up, y/n!" best friend!yang jungwon whines. you simply roll your eyes at him. the zipper of your pouch is followed by the shuffling of your satchel and the tapping of his feet.

"yah, yang jungwon, don't rush me," you scold.

"i wouldn't have to rush you if you weren't so slow," he continues whining, drawing out the vowels in "so" and "slow."

sighing, you get up and throw your bag over your shoulder.

"finally! i thought i was going to have to leave you!" the brown-haired teenager teases.

"you would never, wonie," you say as you stick your tongue out at him.

"watch me!" jungwon shouts before bolting towards the door and taking off. "last one to get there has to pay for the winner!"

"h-hey!! no fair, you got a head start!" you tell after him, scrambling your feet.

going at his own pace, sunoo shakes his head at the pair of best friends. "ugh, they're so in love it's almost cute."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

you're not able to keep up with jungwon, who could literally run a marathon from his rigorous taekwondo training, so when you reach the shop, you're almost breathless and lucky that the shop is close by the school. the chime of the doorbell welcomes you as you push the door open, the staff greeting you with warm welcomes.

jungwon is already ordering his chocolate ice cream and another one while you hurriedly find your wallet. surprisingly though, he nonchalantly hands a cone over to you with your favorite ice cream flavor and pays for it himself.

"but i thought you said...?" you stiffly mumble out.

"your ice cream is melting, slowpoke," he simply states. your eyes widen as you quickly go to lick the sugary liquid before it can drip onto your hand. he's calmly watching you in amusement while enjoying his own dessert. "let's walk back, yeah?"

you're curious as to where his energy went, he's usually more playful with you, but you follow him out the store nonetheless. "sure, just tell me why you're acting so weird, wonie."

as the two of you start walking back on the road home, it's oddly silent. usually your way home (a/n: haha txt song) is filled with laughter and inside jokes, so the silence is extremely uncomfortable and feels much longer than the 3 minutes it actually is.

"alright, yang jungwon, you've been way too quiet. what are you planning, you sneaky bunny?" you give in, making a stop in your tracks. the streets are quiet as the sun begins to set and the once-in-a-while car whooshes past. he turns around with his wide doe eyes staring back at you rather earnestly.

"wh-why are you looking at me like that?" you unconsciously stammer out. jungwon suddenly takes a few steps closer, making you walk backwards into a wall. his hand come forward and encases you between the wall and his body. you can't help but take in the scent of detergent that surrounds you when he traps you, his brown hair that reminds you of a chocoball, and his eyes staring back at you. "w-what—"

you're cut off by a pair of fingers flicking your forehead before you're holding it in response to the pain. "ow! what was that for?!"

"you're keeping us from getting home! i want to watch movies, but you're being slow, y/n," he states before releasing you and walking briskly towards your shared street. "hurry up, or you're not sleeping over tonight."

"h-hey! you can't do that! it's our tradition to do ice cream and movies on the last day of finals!" you scold, rushing after him. when you catch up, you latch onto his back, jungwon's reflexes immediately kicking in and catching you and your legs as your limbs wrap around him. "if you're going to call me slow, i'll just hang on you like a sloth!"

the teenage boy laughs joyfully. "you already were one! sloth y/n, sloth y/n," he chants.

"i'll approve of this sloth y/n agenda only because you're carrying me like you're my moving branch."

"sure, sure. that's my new contact name for you, by the way."

"huh? what was it before?" you ask. you tilt your head forward to rest on his shoulder. the scent of coconut from his conditioner fills your nose as you do so.

"just dummy," he replies coolly. "what's yours for me?"

"first of all, i'm not a dummy," you pout. "second, remember that time you dressed up as a sheep for student council?"

"nooo!" he groans out as if he knows what's coming.

"yess! it's sheep garden to match your contact picture," you tease.

"then i'll dress you like a sloth to match your nickname."

"i thought you had most of our shared brain cells, wonie. sloths are too hairy to dress up as."

"not my problem, get hairy then." you slap his back as his reply. "yah! i'll file best friend abuse against you!"

"go ahead, no one else will deal with your whiny heinie."

"i'm dropping you because you said that."

you gasp. "you wouldn't."

a smirk appears on his face before he says, "try me." and he does it, making you yelp as he lets you fall to your butt on the grassy lawn of his house. "who's a whiny heinie now? pay the uber fees, sloth."

"yea, i'll pay alright," you mumble.

he doesn't catch it and looks at you curiously. "sorry, what d—whoa!!"

as he's talking, you pull his arm and cause him to come down to the ground with you, except the plan didn't end much like how you intended. you definitely didn't intend to be in a compromising position with jungwon hovering over you and trapping you like he had done earlier.

once again, your eyes are locked with his seas of dark brown, searching for some kind of sign, some kind of reason to act on the skyrocketing pulse of your heartbeat. you're too caught up in your thoughts that you don't hear him say, "you know what? screw it."

when his lips press against yours, you only have a few moments to realize and return the press before he's pulling away.

"wonie..." you breathe out. breathless is all that can describe you as your brain wraps around the fact that not only did you have your first kiss, but your first kiss was with yang jungwon, your best friend and crush. the two of you start to sit up, not really saying anything else with your legs intertwined.

it's him who breaks the silence. "i like you, y/n."

and it's you who reached forward to pull him into a hug. he's frozen as your arms take place around his neck and your lips go towards his ear to whisper, "i like you too, jungwonie."

his cheerful giggles that you've come to love and adore erupt out as he wraps his arms around you. knowing the two of you liked each other didn't change the way you acted together, but it made the time you two spent together even more special, now that you can hold hands and rub circles or cuddle while watching movies: doing the same traditions felt brand new.

[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."

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 18:

“That’s pretty much all I got from him,” You sighed, picking at your fingernails. “That he doesn’t want me to know because other people talk bad about him.”

“That’s...” Selene trailed off, seemingly just as lost for words as you were.

Your best friend was making tea for the both of you, bustling around her kitchen as you spoke. Truthfully, you were thankful she invited you over. You didn’t think you could process this information by yourself.

You’d been going back and forth over it all day, trying to decide whether or not it was your place to share what you knew with Selene. You wanted to keep sacred the trust Bakugou had in you, but on the other hand, the longer you thought about his words the more worried you became. Deliberating on it further wouldn’t help you, but maybe talking about it would?

Either way, you just decided to cut your losses. Maybe a stronger woman could’ve kept this too herself and been fine, but you simply weren’t her.

“Yeah. I know.” You responded, falling back against her couch, and slumping into the armrest. “I have no idea what to do with that. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I can’t come up with any scenario that’s good.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” She nods, bringing your mug over to you.

“It’s just- I can only think of two reasons why that’d upset him so much, right?” You sip your tea. “One- he’s just being overly dramatic about it, but honestly, considering Bakugou’s reactions, that doesn’t seem to be the case. And two...”

You wrung your hands nervously. Selene only sat down next to you, a hand on your shoulder urging you to continue.

“Or h-he’s a bad guy. A really bad guy.” You spoke, suddenly sick to your stomach. “Like, a criminal or something. I mean, that’s the only way right? He said people talked about him, a lot, using his name, and then said I could look him up and find bad things, so that has to mean he’s like comitting crimes right? That he’s probably not good, and he’s got a record, because why else would anyone talk that badly about him, so much to the point where it’s synonymous with his name, if he didn’t do something horrific?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, curling your arms protectively around them. Saying all of this out loud made you feel sick, but you truly couldn’t think of another explanation.

“Maybe...” Selene tried, but she seemed to be coming to your same conclusions as well. “Yeah. That’s- I can’t think of another reason either.”

“Yep.” You admitted defeatedly.

Silence fell over the room as you sipped from your mug. You tea was piping hot, nearly boiling, but it didn’t make you feel any warmer. You were cold, and you couldn’t stop your fingers from trembling.

You wanted to believe he was good, and you still sort of did from your personal interactions with Bakugou- But if looking up his name would show you a record of all his past actions, and if he was ashamed of them? Then how good could your soulmate really be?

It made you sick to think about. You’d wanted to save people and help them and do good your entire life- you didn’t think you’d be able to handle learning that your soulmate didn’t feel the same. That he hurt people instead.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Selene slug an arm around you, pulling you into her side. “Maybe- maybe it’s a misunderstanding, you know? Have you tried talking to him again about it?”

“No. Can’t.” You pull your phone from your back pocket, opening your messages to him. “Look what he sent me this morning.”

“He sent that at 5? In the morning?” Selene asks. “That’s.....”

“Suspicious.” You huffed, grabbing your phone from her and turning it off. “You don’t have to tell me. I know.”

“Y/n,” Selene lays her head on yours, squeezing you close to her. “I’m sorry. I-I know you were excited about him.”

“Yep. I was.” You wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “You know what’s even worse though?”

“What?”

“I-I think I meant it when I told him I’d like him anyway.” You confessed quietly. “Even if I did find out he was bad, I-I’m not sure I’d stop talking to him.”

Selene didn’t say anything, only pulling you even closer as you sniffled.

If thinking about Bakugou’s words made you feel sick, your own feelings made you downright nauseous. You truly didn’t think you’d be able to stop talking to him- you were already far too attached.

You couldn’t explain it either: why you already felt so, so, tied to him.

All you knew was you’d been waiting your entire life to be as happy as Bakugou made you. All you knew was that the sound of his voice made your heart jump and settle at the same time. All you knew is that your soul was finally being completed- and, selfishly, so, so, selfishly you weren’t sure you could ever give that up.

Selene leaned forward, grabbing her TV remote off the coffee table in front of you.

“Don’t. Please.” You sighed. “I love you, but I really don’t want to watch your trashy reality shows right now.” 

“I’m not, I’m not, don’t worry,” She knocks her shoulders lightly into yours. “Just local news for background noise.”

You groaned.

“What?” She asked, looking at you a little strangely. “Did Bakugou give you a problem with the news now, too?” 

“No, this- it’s not about him.” You rubbed at your eyes tiredly. “I still have that project remember? I usually watch the news for inspiration, so it just reminded me of it ‘sall.” 

“Oh, okay. You want me to turn it off?”

“No, it’s fine- it’s already on.” You curled into yourself just a bit more, voice tired and depressed as you felt. “Might as well just watch the hero stuff just incase I suddenly, like, get divine inspiration or something.”

“Oh my- you make it sound like you’re doomed!” She nudged you playfully. “C’mon, Y/n we can watch it together. You never know, maybe both of our single brain cells can think of something.” 

You just huffed a laugh, taking another sip of your tea and focusing on the TV.

On screen was another disaster scene, except this time in Jaku City. The city was decimated- buildings were turned sideways, smoke and fire were billowing, and loud explosions could be heard. There was another tar monster, but this time it was a lot larger than the one in Hosu. It was a black, twitching, fluid mass of poison that sucked up everything in it’s path, and seemed to be resistant to almost all attacks. 

There were multiple heroes on the scene, but it was all the same top pros you’d been seeing for what felt like years now. You recognized Deku, Shoto, and Uravity all working together, attacking and regrouping in the fray. It didn’t seem like they were making any progress, though. 

“Top pros have been working to stop the threat for hours now, but almost no progress has been made,” A reporter suddenly stepped into the frame, face visibly anxious. “They’ve been at it since early in the morning, but there has been virtually no change since they first infiltrated the hideout....”

You zoned out. You didn’t know who you were kidding, you couldn’t get anything done. Your brain just couldn’t seem to focus on anything but your soulmate. 

—/—

Bakugou still hadn’t texted you, and it’d been three days. You’d check your phone almost constantly, hoping and praying for even a single buzz, but it never made a difference.

On the fourth day, you texted him.

You don’t know what made you send the last two texts. You couldn’t explain it, even to yourself- but something just felt wrong. 

Bakugou hadn’t missed a single text from you since the very first day you contacted him. He might’ve been angry, and harsh, and volatile, but he was consistent. Even if he’d complain the entire time, he’d answer you, he always did. And if you didn’t contact him first, then he reached out to you. Either way, he was always around for you.

But not this time. 

Days went by and your texts stayed unread. There was a pit in your stomach, one that was steadily growing by the hour, and by the end of that week you felt like you were gonna cry. Every second was spent worrying, you couldn’t focus, and your school work was suffering. Nothing seemed to make you feel better. You weren’t sure when you let him burrow so far into your heart, but he was there now, and there was no use denying it. 

Your earlier questions about who he was, and whether or not he was good, seemed to fade entirely. You just wanted to hear his voice again. You just missed him. The ache you carried with you became a solid thing- sitting cold and heavy on top of a heart that had just learned how to be warm and weightless. You hurt, everywhere, and all you wanted was for him to be okay. 

Your phone was never far away, in your hands or pocket every second of the day- even when you fell asleep. But it didn’t matter. You phone never rang no matter how much you willed it to.

-/---

lmao this is kinda short,, but the original draft was wAY too long so i had to split it ahaha

[tsukiihime]

Heartbreak Chapter 4 (Shinsou x Fem!Reader, Bakugou X Fem!Reader)

I am on the fence if I should do an ending for each character, but I'll mull it over a bit more before making the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Drinking, Angst

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

This isn’t how you imagined you would be spending your weekend.

You’ve spent the night flipping through channels, ordering Chinese takeout as you sit cross-legged on Shinsou’s couch in your favorite tank top and shorts staring blankly at the television screen. You’ve kept your phone by you all this time in hopes of receiving a call that hasn’t come yet, and at this point you’re pretty sure it won’t come at all. You’ve been mulling over it for hours - do you call Bakugou? Let your pride take a backseat to your longing and put an end to your uncertainty? Or do you wait for him to break first?

‘Who am I kidding’, you scoff to yourself, ‘Bakugou doesn’t apologize or bow down to anyone. I’ll probably die before I get him to make the first move.’ You scratch your neck, looking out of the corner of your eye at your cell phone sitting inconspicuously on the coffee table. If you’re being honest with yourself, you want some form of closure with Bakugou. There’s so many unanswered questions between the two of you: Whose underwear was that in your shared bedroom? Are Bakugou and Camie romantically involved? Why did he call you that night?

You want - no, you need answers before you drive yourself crazy with what ifs - so you decide that tonight you’re going to take the plunge and call your ex-boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou.

At least that was the plan, but all you’ve been doing for the past thirty minutes has been nervously pacing back and forth in Shinsou’s bedroom. You pick up your phone only to throw it back down in anxiety - what if you make a fool out of yourself? What if he really did call you on accident and you’re just getting your hopes up?

It takes another thirty-four minutes before you’ve calmed your nerves enough to dial his number and not feel like vomiting. You decided against drinking some alcohol to get some liquid courage - you needed to be sober for this conversation as much as it pained you. The phone line on the other side rings, and you’ve never been more afraid of what’s going to happen next than you have been your entire life. You bite your lip in anticipation, pulling at the bottom of your shorts to distract you from what seems like endless ringing in your ear.

All too soon, the ringing stops and you are greeted with a rough ‘hello’. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

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

Bakugou feels like his soul has left his body when he sees your name flash across his screen - you’re calling him. He’s wished for this moment for weeks: every single missed call, unread text and late night thought about you has now culminated in this moment. You’re finally giving him a chance to speak to you and you’re even making the first move! But he feels a strange new emotion well up inside him as his finger hovers over the ‘answer’ button.

Hesitation.

It’s a new feeling to the Explosion Hero - he’s always been a doer and not a thinker, action before thought. He’s always thought of himself as the best, the cream of the crop in every aspect of his life. But the vibrating cherry red phone in his hand makes his confidence waver. He’s hesitating to answer you, even if he’s missed you for so long. That’s right: the great Katsuki Bakugou is afraid.

He’s afraid to answer the phone, to get his hopes up that you’re calling because you miss him, when you could be just calling him by accident. You probably meant to call Shinsou, or maybe you’re calling to say that you left something at his house and want it back.

But this fear is quickly dispelled - this may be his last chance to tell you how he feels. How he truly feels, without his agency or anyone else getting in the way. He now knows that Shinsou is in love with you and he still loves you with every fiber of his being - if he’s going to have a rival in romance he needs to put everything on the table. He needs you to know how he feels so that he can have no regrets, no matter what happens between the two of you in the future.

His train of thought is interrupted by his brain urging him to swipe right and answer the phone before the call is missed. Bakugou steadies himself, leans against the railing and puts his cell up to his ear. He answers gruffly: “Hello?”

“Hey Bakugou.” He takes notice of your use of his last name - he was expecting you to call him ‘Katsuki’, just as you’ve always done. His eyebrows knit together in disappointment.

“I don’t mean to call so late,” he can hear shuffling on your end, it sounds like you’re pacing around the house, “I know you’re always asleep at this time but I just had to do it before my nerves got the best of me.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck as you smile to yourself softly. “I saw you called me around a week ago and I just wanted to see what you wanted? There was no voicemail or text, so I assumed that you maybe called by mistake? It’s okay if you did, I just wanted to double check you know?” You’re talking a mile a minute, rambling on and on as your nerves are set aflame by your embarrassment and fear. You’ve walked around Shinsou’s bedroom countless times, your heart racing in absolute dread at your decision. Why did you do this? Why did you call late at night? Why did you call him? You laugh uneasily, waiting for an answer and preparing for the worst.

“I called ‘cause I missed you.” You almost drop your phone in sheer shock, but you manage to compose yourself before your voice betrays your surprise.

You remain silent and he sucks in a breath, trying his best to calm himself down as he waits for you to answer. His palms won’t stop sweating, covering his cracked cell phone in glycerin laced sweat as he paces back and forth the rooftop from one end to the next. He feels like throwing up, and a small voice in his head urges him to hang up the phone before he makes more of a fool out of himself. But he stands his ground - he’s not leaving this call until you know how he feels. He hates opening up to others but you’re different, you’re special to him and by God he’s going to prove it to you.

“I’m sorry?” You ask for confirmation, not wanting to misunderstand. You hear a small ‘tch’ in response.

“Haaah? You not listening? I said,” he puts extra emphasis on the last part and he’s speaking so close to the phone that it’s almost like he’s next to you speaking directly into your ear, “that I missed you.” You both grow silent, listening to the sound of the other’s breathing for what seems like an eternity. The air is still rife with tension, but you smile - wide and beaming in total joy. Bakugou missed you. Just like you missed him. You feel comfortable being a little more familiar with him now that he’s confirmed for you that he’s not messing with you and you’re relieved that you’re able to keep your pride intact after you hang up the phone.

“I’m going to be perfectly honest. I wasn’t expecting that, Bakugou.” You give a small giggle and he smiles without realizing it. He’s missed your laugh, and he can imagine the way your nose crinkles slightly when you chuckle, how your eyes used to shine when he would make you laugh. “I’m surprised though - the great Katsuki Bakugou missing ‘lil ole me?”

“What, am I not allowed to be upfront ‘bout it? ‘M not gonna lie and say that I didn’t.” He huffs, slightly annoyed at your reaction. Your tone is teasing and half of him hates it while the other half is grateful for your reaction.

“I missed you too, Katsuki.” You say it, and it’s true. It comes out so naturally that it makes you smile with content. You do miss Bakugou. He closes his eyes and replays it in his mind.

‘I missed you too, Katsuki.’ He loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, sweet and soft just like he remembers. He can envision you lying next to him in bed, your legs entangled in the cream colored sheets as you drift in and out of sleep, running your fingers through flaxen spikes, his arms wrapped around your waist as he snores softly laying his head down on your chest. He’s indescribably happy that you missed him too.

“Look I-”

“So I wanted to-” You both speak at the same time, cutting the other off. You giggle softly. “You can go first Katsuki. Tell me: why have you been calling me?” He inhales deeply, preparing to pour his heart out to you under the starry sky. You lie back on Shinsou’s bed, the cool sheets meeting with your warm skin as you wait for the blonde man to answer.

“I wanted to hear your voice. I honestly thought you wouldn’t pick up or return my calls, so I was content with thinking I’d just hear your voicemail message. I had been trying to call you for days. I know you’re mad and you have every right to be, but I just...I want to talk to you. I want to talk about what happened, ‘bout us. I miss you,” he says without hesitation causing you to take in a breath in surprise, “so much. I didn’t think I’d miss someone like I miss you. I want to talk about what happened, what I did, and make it up to you. I want you back in my life, even if it’s not how we used to be before.”

You can hardly believe that you’re talking to Bakugou - prideful, arrogant, ruthless Bakugou who never opens his heart to anyone, not even you. He’s selfish in everything: with work, with love, and with you. He cares so much about being the number one Hero that it consumes him. You haven’t forgotten the cancelled dates when he stays in late at work to get another case wrapped up so it would boost his ratings, or the nights where you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home when he would work late. Nor have you forgiven the days when you would cook him dinner only to find it untouched when you return home, or when he spends his days off training or hanging out with the Bakusquad rather than staying in with you.

But this Bakugou in front of you? He’s vulnerable, baring his heart and soul to you as he lets you know exactly how he feels. Instantly, the bad times leave your mind and you instead look back at all the good memories he’s given you over the two years you’ve known him: His amazing cooking on nights he wants to spoil you for working hard, the scent of caramel he leaves behind after he works out in the living room, the fierce kisses he left you with before he heads off to work. The way he lets you hold him gently, the way he lets you see him in his most unguarded state. The way he made you feel so loved, so cared for.

However, that doesn’t make you forget what he’s put you through the past month.

You still remember the way your heart shattered when you found that unknown lingerie set in your bedroom, and the way your heart ached when you saw Bakugou with his arm around Camie’s waist. Your grip tightens on your phone and you breathe in deep. You love Bakugou, but he needs to atone for what he’s done if he wants to be in your life again. You sit up on Shinsou’s bed, hugging your knees close to your chest.

“Listen Bakugou - I want to forgive you, I really do. But some of the things you did,” you feel a dull pang in your chest as you envision him holding another woman, “really hurt me. And it’s made me believe that I can’t trust you.” He grimaces, imagining how you must have looked seeing him at the award ceremony with another woman. He cards a hand through his blonde locks, scarlet eyes half lidded in disappointment. “But…” you trail off, and he perks up slightly.

“I don’t want to lose you. You’ve been a big part of my life, and I care about you. I’m willing to talk things out with you if you promise that you’ll take my concerns seriously, okay?” There’s no hesitation this time.

“I promise. Baby, I don’t want to lose you again.” Your eyes widen in shock, and Bakugou quickly coughs to distract you. “Er, sorry.” You giggle and he swells with pride at the noise, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“S’okay. I’ll let it slide this time since you’re so cute.” Bakugou is beside himself in a cocktail of emotions: are you flirting with him? You can’t help but tease him, imagining him turning beet red in embarrassment. Your heart leaps with happiness at how he calls you ‘baby’, but your pride and dignity stop you before you get ahead of yourself: Bakugou has much making up to you before you even think of jumping back into a relationship with him.

“But I think we should have this conversation in person, it’ll be easier. I’m gonna be pretty busy for the next few weeks or so, work and school’s been crazy and I’ve been looking for a new apartment.”

“Eye Bags told me you were looking for a new place to live.”

“Oh, you saw ‘Toshi? Hope he didn’t give you too much trouble. He can be a bit, ah, protective at times.” Katsuki scoffs to himself. ‘Yeah, he’s protective of you ‘cause he’s in love with you’ he thinks, but doesn’t say anything out loud. He may not exactly like Shinsou, but he’s not about to share his secret with you. “Anyways, how about I give you a call when I’m free? We can get together when I’m not swamped with responsibilities.”

“I’d like that.” This call has gone a lot better than he could’ve possibly hoped, and the promise of seeing you again, in person makes his heart soar. He can’t stop himself from beaming, happiness exuding from every pore.

“Alright then, it’s a date. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Have a good night Katsuki.” He gives his goodbyes and hangs up the phone, turning to overlook the cityscape. He can’t stop smiling - you’re really giving him a chance. He’s going to work his hardest to make you feel loved, to make up for everything he’s done and to win your heart again. He won’t lose.

He feels his phone vibrate in his hand, and it’s a message from you.

From: Y/N

Hey Katsuki! It was nice talking to you again. I’m glad we had this little talk...I think I’ll be free two weeks from now on that Friday. Can you meet me then? I’ll let you pick a place to eat, but it better not be too spicy or I won’t be able to eat anything. Let me know, okay?

He quickly responds.

To: Y/N

Got a place in mind. Has mild stuff too. I’m free that day, text me your new address and I’ll pick you up.

He sees the three dots appear and stops typing, waiting for your response.

From: Y/N

Sounds good! Make sure to drive safe kay? Last time I thought I was going to die being in the car with you.

Katsuki smiles as he types up a quick response and makes his way back to his friends downstairs - he spends the rest of the night texting you about anything and everything. He can’t wait to see you again.

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

Shinsou is so grateful that Todoroki is rich - he’s currently drowning in his sorrows at the bar in the luxurious apartment that Shoto calls home. He doesn’t want to see anyone else and he wants to go home, but home is where you are and he doesn’t want to see you either. How can he after coming to the realization he did tonight?

He’s in love with his best friend.

And not only is he in love with you, but he knows that you’re still in love with Bakugou. In his mind, he can’t hold a candle to the Explosion Hero - Bakugou is a high ranking, high paid Hero with legions of fans. He is good looking and even though Shinsou thinks his personality is ass, you seem to be perfectly fine with it. On the other hand, Shinsou is a relatively unknown moderately paid Hero with confidence issues. He hates this part of himself - you always tell him to be kinder to himself and to believe in his abilities but he just can’t help it. He feels so inadequate compared to Bakugou. How can he even think of confessing to you when he can’t even keep you happy?

‘What’s the point of telling her’ he thinks to himself ‘when she won’t ever see me as more than a friend?” The thorns of self doubt dig into Shinsou’s heart and mind. He would rather pine for you for eternity than lose you - you’ve always been there for him as his rock, his pillar of support. If he loses you, he crumbles. But at the same time, how can he live with this secret? Will he spend the rest of his life looking for you in other women, imagining it's your hands he’s holding, your lips he’s kissing, your body that is sleeping next to him in bed? Will he walk you down the aisle at your wedding to Bakugou, seeing how beautiful you look in your white gown while he wishes he could be your groom?

So here lies the dilemma of Hitoshi Shinsou: confess to his best friend that he is utterly head over heels in love with her and risk losing her all together or say nothing and watch her fall in love with someone else.

He doesn’t know what to do or think, and that’s why he downs shot after shot of tequila, feeling the burn of alcohol down his throat and the pleasurable buzz in his fingertips. His phone vibrates and he sees it’s a message from you.

From: Y/N

Hey ‘Toshi! Are you okay? Need me to come rescue you from social interaction yet? :)

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to hear from you or speak to you. You’ll just make his problem worse. A part of him fills up with anger - why can’t you tell that he’s in love with you? The things you two do together is way past the point of being friends: the cuddling, the forehead kisses, the hugs, the sleeping in the same bed - do you truly not see how he feels?

He knows it’s selfish of him to say, and it’s wrong of him to feel this way. You still see those actions as friendly because you’ve always been that way with Shinsou. He’s the one who has twisted it into something romantic, longing for you with every touch. Aching for your presence in his life, wondering what your lips would feel like on his. He responds back in resentment, alcohol fueling his discontent.

To: Y/N

Don’t need you to come. Staying night at Shoto’s. Don’t wait up.

The message is curt and short. He feels so incompetent - he loathes this feeling of not being good enough. ‘It’s no wonder she loves Bakugou - why would she love you? You have a villain’s quirk, a meager apartment, a moderate paycheck. Why would she choose you when she has a better option?’ He thinks to himself, self-hatred poisoning his mind. His phone dings, and as expected, you’re texting him back.

From: Y/N

What’s wrong ‘Toshi? You seem off thru text...are you okay?

To: Y/N

I told you, I’m fine. Leave me alone for the night, don’t wanna talk to you.

He sends his final message and sees you immediately start typing back - but he’s through with this conversation. He puts his phone on do not disturb and leaves it on the bar countertop, grabs his beer and makes his way to Izuku, Uraraka, Tsuyu and the others. As soon as he leaves, his phone flashes with a missed call from you.

[sunaswife]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖎𝖒

Shigaraki X f! Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, brainwashed/ programmed reader, implied kidnapping, Dom/sub, use of the word ‘pet’ and ‘master’, first time sex, uh..does this count as yandere..? Idk lol

🔪: this is like my second time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s bad 🙇‍♀️ plz don’t spank me. N E Wayz I dedicate this fic to @aoi-turtle 🖤 and Any other shiggy whores out there

Edit: I FORGOT TO TAG @dinablossom and @toworuu IM SO SORRY BSVAKAGSJA

Summary: Imagine being programmed to be the leagues healer but also Shigaraki’s little cum bucket

♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎

“Master what is the meaning of this.” Shigaraki looked at the television screen as he scratched his neck. “I took her quirk and made it a thousand times better.” He said simply. “Tomura shigaraki where should I place her?” Kurogiri asked. “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just don’t understand why you brought a stupid hero here.” He said annoyed.

“Now now—“ “Shut up and put her somewhere out of my sight!” Tomura demanded and Kurogiri sighed and carried your body to the spare room by shigaraki’s private quarters. You looked dead, you were exhausted, traumatized, in shock.

You were frozen. Your eyes stayed open, unblinking as you stared at the ceiling. It looked as if you were dead. But your body is warm and you were breathing, you’re alive and you’ll recover quick. Thanks to the quirk All for One fixed for you.

Dabi smirked at your ruined form. Spinner hid his rosy cheeks, you were a cute one. Toga was excited to have another girl in the league she talked with Twice about all the fun things you two could do together. Whether it be painting your nails, doing your hair, torturing someone, or making them bleed. She was excited.

“What’s so good about her quirk that you needed it.” Shigaraki asked. “It’s come to my attention that the league has been missing an important puzzle piece.” He started off. “Yeah? What’s that?” The light blue haired man asked. He was beyond ticked off to have a hero here. “She’s not a hero. She was training under UA’s school nurse. But she fell into the hero course for recovery and first aid training.” He said and everyone stayed silent and patiently listened to the brain behind the league.

“Her quirk is pyrokinetic regeneration. She manipulates fire with the energy of the person who needs healing and together she heals with so called fire. Her quirk was small, only a few cuts a bruises here and there could she heal. But I added cell regeneration so she can even fix up deep wounds that could need surgery in a matter of days instead of months.”

“Sounds amazing! No she could use her fire against us!” Twice said and Toga nodded. “She won’t. Her fire doesn’t burn unless you’re hurt.” Kurogiri returned. “But she’s still a hero brat so wouldn’t she try to resist?” Dabi asked. “I don’t know but let me try and see!” Toga giggled and pulled out a knife she easily slit her wrist and skipped her way to your new room.

Out of curiosity the other members followed suit. Shigaraki first, he wanted to see if you were truly useful if not then he’d disintegrate you right here and now. “Hi hi new friend! My name is Toga!” The psychotic girl giggle as her blood dripped all over the floor. You looked up slowly from your spot on the bed. “H-hi...T-toga..” your voice was low. “Kurogiri Can you bring her some water?” Toga asked and he left and came back in the blink of an eye.

Your hands were shaking for the cup of water but Toga held it back, away from you. “If you want the water then heal my wrist first.” She said sweetly with a giggle. “Heal your wrist?” You whispered and she nodded. “O-okay..” you stuttered and you slowly removed the blanket from your lap. You stood up with wobbly legs to go to the girl but you fell. The chain on your ankle pulled you back. You winced and looked at her, pleading for her to come to you. She asked if you were okay and when you responded she shoved her bloody arm to your face. “Take a deep breath. This may sting...” you started and a small green flame came upon your hand. You rubbed the flame over both of your hands like you were putting on lotion, finally when the flames covered both hands you pressed hard on her wrist. She winced, “ow ow ow.” She whimpered, you removed your hands and everyone stared at the flame around her whole wrist. “Give it thirty seconds....or not...” you said as you stared wide eyed at her already healed cut. It was barley a touch and it’s gone now. “Wow. No scar!” She giggled and turned to show the guys. “Wow stab me next, please don’t or else I’ll bite ya!” Twice said and you reached for the water. “Interesting.” Shigaraki mumbled with a small squint. Kurogiri looked over and hoped he wouldn’t do anything bad to you.

“Shows over. She needs her rest.” Kurogiri said and everyone left one by one. Toga gave her a hug and wished for you both to be the best of friends and she skipped away. “Tomura Shigaraki. What are you thinking?” Kurogiri asked as Shigaraki began to walk into your room. “Nothing that concerns you.” He spat and slammed the door. Kurogiri sighed but returned to the bar nonetheless.

“Do you know who I am?” Shigaraki asked, “Yes you’re the leader of the league of villains, You’re name is Tomura Shigaraki and your quirk is decay—“ “that’s enough!” He raised his voice and looked at you with wide eyes.

You looked so sad and you glanced down at your cup. “Mr. shigaraki I know I don’t usually talk this much. I’ve always been the quiet type. I think whoever kidnapped me gave me a huge sense of knowledge. I know the league is bad but I don’t care about the heroes anymore and I don’t know why. I know everything about you guys, your true identity, your quirks, your past. And when I see you I—“ you quickly stopped yourself.

Shigaraki raised a brow. “You what?” He asked curiously. “N-nothing. Just forget it.” You answered and he growled. “Answer me now before I kill you.” He said and your legs subconsciously clenched together. You stayed quiet and your chest rose and fell a little more quickly. Why was this feeling in your chest when this killer, this man child looked at you? What exactly did the man he calls master do to you?

Before you knew it he gripped your chin and lifted it harshly so you could look at his wrinkly red eyes. Even though he looks like a bum he smelled nice and clean. A hand was covering his face and you slowly lifted your hand to touch it and his other hand grabbed your wrist. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish you fucking idiot?” He growled and you gulped. “C-can i see your face?” You asked and he tilted his head confused.

“No. Answer my question-“ before you both knew it, as if your body had a mind of its own you tackled shigaraki down and you snatched the hand off his face. His hand quickly wrapped around your neck and arm and you pressed your lips against his. He halted his finger from pressing against your neck. He was beyond confused.

“If only tomura finished listening to what i had to say.” All for one chuckled loudly. You both were able to faintly hear the television from down the hall. “He would know that I managed to change y/N’s desires and whole way of thinking. She’s now with the league of Villains and she’s in love with its leader, Tomura Shigaraki. Consider it a present and motivation for the future of the league.” You both heard and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.” You said lowly. He stood there stunned and silent.

He slowly sat up and looked at your figure. “So you were brainwashed like my Nomu.” He hummed and took a few steps back. He noticed how you crawled closer to him but the chain was keeping you away.

“Who do you love?”

“You.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Who’s your master?”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

You said and he smirked. He was gonna have fun with you. “At least master was kind enough to give me a beauty.” He said as he held on to the chains. “Don’t freak out.” He warned and you nodded. He disintegrated the chain around your ankle and he pulled you by the arm. You were wearing an ugly hospital gown and you were barefoot. You couldn’t help but shiver. He went next door to his room and he shoved you in and slammed the door. You nearly tripped over the mess and you turned to look at shiggy. “Why are you just standing there?” He asked, “You haven’t given me orders.” You deadpanned. “You can’t think for yourself?” He questioned. “No i can but I Don’t want to upset you.” You replied.

“Fine then clean this shit up.” He referred to his very very messy room. You nodded and began to lift up a piece of trash but he pulled you away. “Change first.” He said and handed you a black hoodie. “Do you have a bathroom?” You asked. “No change here.” He said and you nodded. You turned so your back was facing him and carefully began to take off the gown, leaving you completely bare and Shigaraki couldn’t help but look.

Your skin was so beautiful and looked so soft. He saw as you carefully put on his hoodie and it completely engulfed you. It reached to your mid thigh. You slowly turned to look at him with rosy cheeks. The hoodie smelled just like him. “Tomura—“ “It’s master to you.” He Interrupted and you nodded, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together once more. “Sorry...m-master.” You said and played with the hem of his hoodie.

“Master..can I have some underwear too...? I feel weird, when I’m bare underneath..” you asked. “No, continue cleaning my room.” He answered coldly and sat on his gaming chair. He turned on his console and began playing whatever game he had.

You sighed and you couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous yet scarred face and his beautiful long fingers. In an instant he can kill you, but if you’re good..then he might even reward you. If you were to die, I’d rather be in the hands of your master than anyone else.

You quickly began you pick up the instant ramen bowls and bags of chips. You separated recycling and trash. You even managed to pick up all his dirty clothes and put it in the hamper in less than an hour. Tomura was stunned, one minute he can barley walk in, the next It’s almost spotless. He saw you from the corner of his eye, you were folding his clothes that practically had the same color scheme.

“Can i go through your drawers to put your clothes away..?” You finally spoke up. “Yeah it’s whatever. I don’t care.” He mumbled and returned to the screen. “Ugh stupid game!” He huffed and began pressing the controller more furiously. You chuckled and thought that it was so cute and adorable when he was frustrated.

You went to his California king sized bed and began to fix the sheets and make his bed. Since it was so huge, you had to climb on to properly fix it. You were completely in your own world when Shigaraki turned and saw your wet cunt on display in all it’s glory. Ever since he saw you he couldn’t help but feel that urge to take you. His resistance was getting to him and now he wanted to give in to his urges even more. He was too distracted that he lost the fucking game and he growled and disintegrated the controller. That was his own form of rage quitting.

You heard his sound of frustration so when you turned you expected him to be in the same chair uttering bullshit, but you were shocked when you felt your hips being pulled back. Your cunt was touching his pants, but you can feel his bulge. “Um..master..I—“

“Shut up.” He said and reached for your neck. He pulled you back to him and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hovering your aching clit. “This is whats gonna happen.” He started off and you nodded. “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to like it. Okay?”

“I understand.” You said softly, you felt his hands slowly lift up the hoodie just a bit to get a better view of your ass. You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. “I know I’m probably not your dream girl but I promise to be a good girl, master..” your voice shook. He tilted his head, were you getting insecure?

“No pet, you’re perfect to me.” He assured and you could hear his belt jingle as he took it off. “You seem pretty wet already, pet. Since how long have you been like this?” He asked as he got out of his jeans. He slowly open your cheeks to reveal your little pussy clenching around nothing, how cute. “Since I saw you..” you mumbled. He smirked and leaned down. He immediately began to eat out your cunt causing you to gasp in shock and grip the sheets. Your chest layed roughly against the bed as your ass stood proud in the air for the leader of the league of villains to enjoy.

“Fuck—“ you moaned and you felt a slap on your ass. You slightly jumped released a small yelp. “Watch your language.” He growled from your pussy. “Yes master.” You whimpered and he slowly began to rub his thumb on your other hole. Your small moans filled the room and he easily slipped his middle finger in you. You squeezed around him so deliciously, he couldn’t help but wished his cock was inside.

This has never happened to him before, this feeling in his chest. Someone that loves him and will obey his every command. You’re so beautiful as well, and your sounds. Your moans and whimpers, in all honesty he jut wanted to get himself off. But after hearing you and seeing you. He wants to make sure you have pleasure as well.

He continued pumping his finger in and out of your slick walls and your voice started getting slightly higher. “Master...I—I’m gonna cum...”you panted and your toes began to curl. “It’s okay, cum for me, pet. You’ve been a good girl.” He said softly and he felt you clench around his finger. When you came he slowly removed his finger and examined it. You must be new to is if you could get off with just one of his long fingers.

You layed on the bed a bit tired, not paying attention to your master who had tasted your cum on his finger. It was delicious and he wanted another taste. When you felt a lick on your cunt again you immediately shivered and clenched your thighs. “Hold still I just wanna taste some cum.” Shigaraki huffed and he pulled your thighs apart. You were pretty sensitive but you obeyed nonetheless.

You moans began to fill the room once more and before you could finish and cum again he pulled away. You automatically whimpered and turned to give your master puppy dog eyes. “I would let you cum again, but my cock is so fucking hard I don’t think I can wait another minute.” he said and began to pull down his boxers.

Before you could get back in position, which freaking hurt, he flipped you over on your back and you made a small oof noise. You looked up to See shigaraki focused on his cock, he was rubbing himself up and down your slit to use your cum as lube. “Alright I’m going in.” He announced and slowly pushed his rather large member inside your tint cunt. You immediately yelped and held on to his biceps. “M-master wait—it hurts..” you pleaded and Tomura finally looked up at your face.

He loves inflicting pain, he loves watching people’s painful expressions when they’re hurt or when they’re gonna die. Chisaki’s face was so amusing. But when he saw yours, his heart shattered and he didn’t want to hurt you at all. You’ve been nothing but good to him, he doesn’t want to hurt his little toy. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “it’s okay..” you sniffled. After a minute of him being patient you gave him a nod and he continued to slowly bottom out.

You both released a moan when he was all the way in. You both have never felt anything like this before. “Can I start moving?” Shigaraki asked you as he brushed way the hair from your face. You nodded and he pulled almost all the way out and he slammed back in. Your little gasps and moans came back which made shigaraki feel at ease. You can clearly hear your slick with every thrust and it was music to his ears.

“I’ve been neglecting these.” He grunted and lifted his hoodie over your chest. Finally he was able to see your beautiful soft breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He moaned and immediately lowered his mouth to one of your nipples. You squealed and your back arched and he pushed you down. “Master...” you moaned softly. His tongue swirled around your hardened bud and your fingers tangled in his light blue hair. Two of his fingers pinched your other nipple and he lightly bit the nipple in his mouth.

“I think I-I’m close—“ you gasped and he removed his mouth. His thrusts decreased in speed but they became harder. He had a stupid smirk on his face and your eyes widened when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Hold it until I say so.” He demanded and you muttered a weak yes. He felt how your gummy walls squeezed against his large dick, he was getting close too. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He groaned with his head tilted back and your mouth watered at the sight. Why is he so fucking handsome?

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax so he rubbed his thumb on you clit while increasing his pace once more, causing you to be even louder than before. Everyone in the bar could hear and a certain fire villian grumbled in annoyance. “Master I can’t hold it anymore!” You screamed. “Then cum my stupid little pet. Cum all over my cock like a good girl.” He grunted and bit his lip at the sight of your sweaty body. Your bouncing breasts, crazy hair, your adorable ahego face, your twitching legs and finally your grip on his biceps. You were so prefect and so good to him and only him.

When you came you felt his cum shoot inside you as well causing you to gasp at the delicious feeling. Tomura rested his head on your shoulder and tried catching his breath. You couldn’t help but smile and blush at the closeness. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and you gave his shoulder a kiss causing him to freeze. “I love you master, thank you for making me feel good.” You said softly. He chuckled and pulled you closer, “I love you too.”

I wanna write a part 2 of Shiggy finding out his little toy is being used by a certain fire boy 👀

[icefire149]

30 and destiel?

Hi Sam! Thank you soooooooooo much for this one. This was incredibly fun to write. It ended up a bit longer than I planned, but I hope you enjoy it <3

#30 - Too quick, mumbled into your scarf

“Dean, you really should come inside. It’s too cold.” Cas stopped at the nose of the impala. He rested a light hand right above the driver’s side headlight.

Sighing, Dean turned his attention away from the night sky. He’d been leaning against baby’s door for a while, watching the clouds roll in. “That’s a bold statement from someone who doesn’t get cold.”

Cas rolled his shoulders back a bit, standing up straighter. His head tilted questioningly. “I still remember vividly what being too cold felt like.”

Dean visibly winced at that. “Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender, but his fingers felt wrong.

“What’s wrong?” Cas closed the distance between them. His eyebrows pinched together.

“Nothing, just got too cold….I think.”

He wrapped his hands around Dean’s. “Hence, why I suggested you come inside in the first place.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean rolled his eyes with a huff. He could feel Cas’ grace flowing through every atom of his being, shielding him from the cold. “You’re always right. Thanks mom.”

Exasperated, Cas shook his head, but he pulled their hands an inch closer. He gently turned Dean’s hands over like he was inspecting every cell of skin. A soft smile tugged at the corners of Cas’ lips. “Jokes aside, much like your mother I did build this body with my own….well, more than two hands, but you get my point.”

Dean curiously leaned forward. “Dude, how many hands do angels normally have?”

“That’s not important.” Cas lowered their hands so they rested at their sides, but he still didn’t let go. He gave Dean’s hands a squeeze instead. “My point is that it would be a shame to ruin my hard work with frostbite.”

And then, Cas withdrew his hands and the chill of the autumn night flooded into Dean’s bones like a broken dam. His brain felt momentarily scrambled, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Cas’ words or the absence of his touch. Before he knew it, Dean was ushered inside the motel room.

The lock clicked behind them and Jack sat up. He’d been laying in the center of the bed farthest from the door. “Sam called. He said that him and Eileen are aiming to meet us tomorrow if the weather isn’t too bad. Did it start to snow yet?”

“No,” Dean shook his head disappointed. “Soon though. I could feel it in the air.”

“I’m surprised you could feel anything at all,” Cas mumbled while he crossed the room to sit on the corner of Jack’s bed.

“Enough already.” Dean kicked off his boots and flopped onto the other bed in their double. He knew that he needed a shower to ideally warm himself up, but for now this was nice. “How much snow do you think we’re gonna get?”

“I can look that up right now,” Jack answered eagerly. He reached for his phone on the nightstand.

“You don’t have to,” Dean said, staring up at the ugly, stained ceiling tile. “What’s your gut instinct? I’m thinking 3 or 4 inches. Nothing too much, but enough to blanket everything in white when we wake up.”

Jack put his phone down on his lap. “Oh, this is a game.” He turned to his dad. “Castiel, what do think?”

“I-uh, I don’t know.” He stood up and walked over to the window. Everything still looked the same, but he wouldn’t be shocked if it did start to snow any minute now. “I’m hoping it’ll be a dusting. Neither of you packed for snow.”

“Well ya win some and ya lose some. It happens, and besides Jack’s too much angel to let a little snow stop him.”

“Thanks,” Jack smiled. He picked his phone back up and laid back down on the bed.

Dean rolled to his side to face Cas. He raised an eyebrow. “See. No big deal.”

“You really should pack for these kinds of situations. At the very least you should keep some hats, gloves, and scarves in the trunk.”

A small chuckle escaped Dean. “No one’s bundled me up that much since...well, my mom.”

The volume of his voice lessened enough that Cas stepped forward and cautiously sat on the bed’s side. “Do you still remember much of it?”

Dean shook his head, and then rolled onto his back. He couldn’t look at Cas while he searched his memory. “I’m not even sure if it’s real….or a dream I latched onto as a kid.” His voice fell to a hushed tone.

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s not much.” Dean closed his eyes. Mostly he could see her smile. It was like she held their whole family’s supply of happiness in that smile. “I remember seeing so much white that I wasn’t sure if I could remember green anymore.”

There was a light chuckle above him. Dean cracked an eye open and caught the fond smile hooked on Cas’ face. The angel darted his gaze away, and Dean snapped his eyes shut again. His skin started prickling with heat.

“Mostly,” Dean continued after clearing his throat. “I remember her winding a big scarf around my neck and then my face. And then….how nice it was to keep my face hidden from the cold.”

“It was like she was wrapping you up in her love,” Jack mused out loud.

Dean’s whole body stiffened. Somehow he’d forgotten his presence. Slowly, he turned to peek over at Jack.

He wasn’t looking at anyone in particular. Jack’s eyebrows were furrowed. “I don’t have….I, um...do you think my mom would’ve done the same?”

Something tightened in Dean’s chest. It was hard to remember sometimes that Jack was still just a little kid. Hell, he was probably the same age as Dean in the memory he was recalling. His bottom lip twitched. “Yeah, kid. Of course.”

-

“Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean, wake up.”

He opened his eyes to see Jack staring out the motel window. “Whaaat?”

With a wide grin, Jack looked at him over his shoulder. “It snowed. Come look!”

Dean kicked the blanket off and pulled himself out of bed. Stiffly, he stopped next to Jack and saw the entire parking lot buried under a few inches of snow. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you think it’s enough to build a snowman?”

“No,” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck. He went back over to his bed and sat down. “I mean, maybe. Don’t know if it’s the right kind of snow.”

Jack turned to face him. He frowned.

“When we’re back at the bunker, you can build a whole army if you want. Okay?”

And just like that, Jack was beaming. He went back over to his side of the room and busied himself with his phone.

Dean glanced around the room. His head still felt fuzzy from sleeping. “Where’s Cas?”

“I don’t know,” Jack answered, not looking up from his phone. “He left a note saying to wait inside until he got back.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean got ready for the day. He was tying his boots when the motel door opened, letting an icy gust into the room.

“Sorry, that took longer than I expected.”

Cas stopped in the center of the room. Dean’s eye couldn’t help but stare at the single plastic bag in the angel’s hand. His eye then trailed up to the new piece of clothing around Cas’ neck: a scarf. It was orange and red with ugly, giant pom-poms at either end.

Jack excitedly flew out of the bathroom at the sound of Cas’ voice. “Where did you go?”

With a soft smile, Cas handed the bag to Jack. “I thought I’d pick something up for you.”

“Thank you,” Jack answered running his hands across the scarf he pulled out of the bag.

It was red and purple, and Dean couldn’t look at them a second longer. Clenching his jaw, he exited the room and regretted it immediately. The air was cold, and his hands were already sore thinking about all the ice he was gonna have to scrape off of baby.

He’d just gotten the brush out of the trunk when he heard the crunching of footsteps approaching.

“You left far too quickly.”

Dean tried to smile, but his mouth felt wrong. He shrugged. “Felt like you and the kid were having a moment. Besides I really need to get baby ready to go.”

Cas sighed, and his head tilted to the side. “I know, but….” He started to unwrap the scarf from himself. His eyes didn’t leave Dean’s for a second. “you didn’t wait for me to give you this.”

“You don’t need to give me your scarf, Cas.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth pulled until the faint glimpse of white could be seen. Blinding, like all the snow and ice surrounding them. “This isn’t mine. I bought it for you.”

Dean blinked.

“Luckily, I had a feeling-” Cas began. He looped It around Dean’s neck. “that you’d be out here digging the car out-” He carefully wrapped it again, and again. “before I got back. So-”

Cas adjusted the fabric in places so Dean could squish his face deeper into the fabric for warmth.

Already, only Dean's eyes and the top of his head was uncovered. He could smell the familiar scent of Cas' favorite coffee order as he breathed in.

“I figured that I’d warm it up for you.”

Dean felt unable to speak. Like his tongue wasn’t made for making sounds anymore. The scarf’s warmth sank into his skin and the only thought coming to mind was that: Jack was right. He was never more grateful than he was in that moment for that scarf obscuring the shape of the next three words his mouth took.

Ask me more writing prompts (I’m using these as warm ups so can’t guarantee the speed I post in)