#they always nearly push me off the bed and steal the blankets from me. sometimes even my pillow will get halfway stolen

[lunarsapphism]

.

[mlmxreader]

Mornings At Home | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Ghost with

31 “Y'know, I hate being a thousand miles away from you”

73 "Try and stop me from stealing your clothes, I dare you" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Ghost isn't used to being home, but he does have moments where he adores it.

: ̗̀➛ dissociative symptoms, trauma, swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Ghost grumbled as he yawned and turned onto his side, still not quite used to there being a dog at the foot of the bed or another person at his side; for months, he had been away on deployment, for months, he had gotten used to sleeping on dingy cots that were too small for him and harsh cold floors that made him shiver and shake something awful.

He was home now, but that didn't seem to change a damn thing. He still slept mostly on his back with his arms stiff at his sides. He still drank coffee black with no sugar, even though he always used to drink it with milk and two sugars. He still refused blankets at night, no matter how cold it was.

He still woke up sweating, screaming and panting heavily. His hands still shook when he looked at himself in the mirror, and although he rarely told you, he sometimes thought that he was in a film. Watching himself from a distance, He felt like that a lot. He never told anyone but Gaz about it.

Ghost told Gaz everything. Gaz told him everything in return. But he couldn't tell you.

You were… different.

Ghost never wanted you to panic, he never wanted you to become worried and anxious for him; he couldn't stomach the thought of such a thing. There were a lot of things that Ghost never told you, wanting to save you from the fact that he had been to Hell and back and had come out more than burned and charred.

Wanting to save you from himself. But as he turned over now, and he felt you squirm into him, fitting into his embrace as he lazily allowed his arm to flop over you, he couldn't help but to smile a little. There was no doubt in Ghost’s mind that he had already gotten a text from Gaz asking if he wanted to go for a morning run, or maybe one from Price asking if he would be down for going to the pub and playing a game of darts or snooker.

But he couldn't honestly find it in himself to care as he pressed his face to the back of your neck and inhaled the scent of your cologne, your shampoo and body wash, your conditioner; he grumbled softly, a weak protest when he felt you start to stir. Stretching and nearly breaking free from him.

“I need a hoodie…” you murmured. “I've gotta meet Hesh later…”

“Don't steal mine,” Ghost mumbled, pulling you tighter to him.

You laughed, the sound low and breathy as you relaxed, turning over and onto your side so you could get a good look at him. “Try and stop me from stealing your clothes, I dare you.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he moved to lay on top of you, his head on your chest as he grabbed the bedpost. Trapping you. “Consider it down.”

“That's not fair,” you huffed, squirming beneath him as you did your best not to laugh. The dog looked up, his ears perked up as he tilted his head to the side. “You woke the dog up.”

The dog in question was more yours than Ghost’s; a dark blue greyhound, he had golden eyes with one being slightly lighter than the other, and long thick black whiskers on his muzzle.

You had talked Ghost into getting him, insisting on getting a rescue greyhound instead of the retired military working dog that Ghost wanted. He caved after you showed him the skinny, beaten up, shell of a dog.

“You woke the dog up,” Ghost muttered, moving to kiss your neck sweetly. “You were the one squirming.”

You laughed, pushing him off of you and wheezing when the dog, thinking that Ghost wanted to play, pounced on him and started barking.

“Get him, Greywind! Go on!”

Ghost laughed as he gently pushed the dog aside, giving him a good pat on the shoulders to let him know he wasn't in any trouble before he turned to you. “Y'know, I hate being a thousand miles from you… ain't the same when I wake up without you.”

You smiled, daring to lean your head on his shoulder as you put your arm around him, gently running your hand up and down his bicep as you hummed softly. “Why do I always feel like there's something you're not telling me?”

He shrugged, swallowing thickly and frowning. “There's stuff I can't tell you. You know that.”

“I don't mean about work,” you sighed.

“I don't want you to worry,” he told you, shaking his head. “I can't tell you.”

“You promise if you're not alright, you'd tell me?” You asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Ghost lied with a curt nod. “Of course.”

“I'm still stealing your hoodie,” you told him softly. “I'm stealing your camo one, it's warmer.”

He rolled his eyes, but knew that he had lost that war; if there was any fight he was bound to lose, it would be over you asking for something. But then again, it had always been a war that he was happy to lose.

Seeing you smile made him feel less like he was utterly hopeless, and knowing that he was the reason behind it made him feel like he wasn't entirely too far gone.

Any war lost to you was a blessing.

Besides, as much as he didn't particularly like to admit it to anyone else except you and Gaz, there was nothing more that Ghost liked than to see you in his hoodies; knowing that you would smell like him, knowing that you would be infected by it and that everyone would be able to smell it on you.

He liked knowing that.

“Where are you and Hesh off to?” He asked curiously.

“We're gonna go to the museum,” you started, “and then we're gonna grab some food, then do some shopping… you're still welcome to come, y'know.”

“He's your friend,” Ghost hummed. “Not mine… I'm sure me and Greywind will be fine for a couple of hours without you… you deserve to have fun.”

Gently, you missed his cheek. “If you're lucky, I might just buy you a new hoodie.”

Rolling his eyes, Ghost grinned as he laughed.

[carolmunson]

He texted you ‘good morning’ at noon. You usually text him before he’s even awake; 6am, sometimes 5. But he knows you’re off today, thought it was about time you caught up on some sleep. Working twelve hour days, working on your side hustle at night, maybe three hours of sleep is what you allow yourself.

The nights he’s there he tries to coax you into bed earlier: ‘I’ll be there in ten.’ you always say. But you’ll say it like a broken record for hours before you do. He fears the nights he’s not there you might not go to sleep at all, pushing your mind and body far past — what he’d deem — an acceptable limit. 

He knows this. He calls you at one anyway; a little selfishly, a little worriedly.

You pick up from the sunken valley of your sofa. 

“Hm,” you hum, mid languid stretch. 

“Hey, trouble,” his voice deep, but light. You can hear the wind whipping, his keys jingling. “Did I wake you up?” he asks softly. He’s getting in his car, you hear a click and the rumble of his engine. 

“I haven’t really slept,” you tell him, voice horse. You’ve been in and out for hours, never longer than 20, maybe 30 minutes at a time. Awake for the same before you drift back off. The TV’s been on all night, all morning, afternoon. The show you were catching up with on Hulu is now a completely different unrelated show, half a season deep.

“Why don’t you get your pretty self up off the couch,” he guesses with a teasing lilt and you roll your eyes with what energy you can muster, “and take a shower for me? I’ll be there in, mmm, twenty minutes.”

When he lets himself into your apartment he hears the water running, hears you fighting with your nearly empty bottle of shampoo.

Your place is small, he can see almost everything from where he’s standing in the kitchen. Two blankets dragging on the floor from the couch, takeout containers on the coffee table, your work scattered about. Eddie puts away the small amount of groceries he grabbed on the way over and starts to pick your place up — folds your throw blankets, gathers the trash, puts your work up. He pulls closed your curtains, turns the AC a few degrees colder before he lights what’s left of the candle on your nightstand. 

When you emerge from the bathroom in your fluffy black robe and your hair twisted up in a towel, Eddie’s sat on the edge of your bed, fingers pulling through the lace of his boots. He looks up and offers a crooked smile, says, “Feel better after your shower?”

“I do.”

Eddie has this softness about him during the day; when his curls are freshly dried, black tee still unwrinkled, jaw smooth and shaved. The candle behind him flickers, his frizz haloed in an orange glow that casts down his jaw in a way that entices you to kiss it. 

Barefoot you pad over, a fatigued pout tugging at your bottom lip as you stand at his knees. He cranes his neck back and spreads his legs, hands reaching out to cup the back of your thighs; warm and scratchy, his. He pulls you closer until your knees hit the bed and you're so close his chin could rest against your sternum if he wanted. 

“You wanna eat? Or d’you wanna sleep?” he asks, eyes shining with a devotion no man has ever had for you before.  You push his fringe back, bend down to steal a gentle kiss — tastes like coffee and cigarettes. 

“I wanna sleep,” you tell him through you lip wobbling with exhaustion, with a desperation to get a few straight hours. It’s the kind of tired where your skin aches, tingles when Eddie’s big hands move forward and slide up the sides of your thighs beneath your robe and kneads at what he can.

Eddie tugs at the loose tie around your waist as he stands, the spice of his cologne is comforting enough to put you to sleep. But you know he’s got a plan of his own when he ducks into the juncture of your collar for a kiss, a bigger one on your neck, a smaller one at the hinge of your jaw. 

“My sleepy girl,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, his hair tickling your sensitive skin. The bass of his voice has you arching slightly into him, neck lolling to the side with your eyes closed when his hands push the fabric from your shoulders. Your robe collects at your feet, the cool air of your apartment pricks your heated skin, flesh pebbling in seconds. He kisses your jaw again, fingertips whispering down your sides, your hands curl into his shirt. “Lie down, f’me.”

Hair still twisted up, you crawl to the top of your bed, crisp sheets beneath you when you settle on your back. You watch your boyfriend strip from his shirt, his back and shoulders flex and stretch with his movement, black ink dancing in what little light bounces off of him. He kicks his boots under your bed, but it’s when he pulls his belt from their loops that your breath hitches in your throat with anticipation. But Eddie’s got other plans that don’t quite align with your salacious daydream — you realize when he reaches for the corner of your bed and picks up a container of what looks like your shea body butter.

You watch him as he comes to the side of the bed, your eyes unable to stop following the trail of dark hair that disappears into his Levi’s. He chuckles and your eyes snap up to his; he’s smiling with dimples, and it’s a curse because it only makes you want to glance back down. He’s so handsome — even when he’s being smug.

“What?” you giggle dumbly. 

“You’re too weak for all that, baby,” he rasps as he leans down. Your cheeks burn at the suggestion, you want to tell him that you kind of like that — but you don’t. His lips capture yours once more before he nods his head. “Turn over.” 

And so you do. 

You taught him a while back a small amount of body butter goes a long way, so he starts with a dollop, tries to warm it up between his palms before he touches the small of your back. He works his way up to your shoulders, it smells nutty and sweet, a little bit of vanilla. Eddie takes his time, he’s a ‘takes him time’ kinda guy with everything, and right now he’s really leaning into it. Long strokes, deep pressure working out your knots loosening any tightness you felt. 

The bed dips when he kneels at your side for better leverage. More weight, big hands that feel like they’re covering you entirely. The heel of his palms traverse down, fingertips splaying as he climbs over the hill of your ass and continues to the back of your knees. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, really. But he feels your body relax, you sink further into the bed and as quickly  as your skin absorbs the cream your soft snores are music to his ears.

He kisses you between your shoulder blades, an extra at the small of your back. But those were just for him.

When you wake up, it’s four SVU episodes later for Eddie. Your head is on Eddie’s chest, a little bit of drool pooling at the corner of your mouth, the towel on your head is hanging on to the last few inches of your hair. You feel refreshed, albeit, lazy. Eddie’s always so warm, sometimes so warm you can’t even bear touching him at night. But right now it’s welcomed, you drag your arm across his stomach and dig your fingers into his side to pull him closer. You both nuzzle, scoot closer. You feel his hand at the small of your back holding you against him. You hitch your leg up, smooth skin over denim. 

“It’s dinner time,” he whispers into the crown of your head. You hand slides down, fingers toying with the hem of his jeans. 

“Breakfast for dinner?” you ask hopefully.

“I grabbed eggs on the way over.”

xoxox, gossip girl

i will simply never recover from this @newlips

[elynnss]

you're too sweet for me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54366286

My coffee black in my bed at 3

You’re too sweet for me 

You’re too sweet for me

I take my whiskey neat

My coffee black in my bed at 3

You’re too sweet for me

James Potter had the singular talent to make his body burn and his skin itch. It’s really, truly maddening. 

For years, he’d thought it was hatred- rage at the boy who stole his brother. It was. It still was, a bit. Sometimes. 

But James Potter also had the singular talent of stealing the hearts of both Black brothers, whether Regulus liked it or not. The way that Sirius followed James around like a dog had disgusted him, unable to comprehend what was so fucking special about the boy. What could James possibly have that Regulus didn’t? 

It wasn’t until James had gotten to him that he understood. Decided one day that Regulus should be theirs- his- and didn’t back down until Regulus didn’t have an ounce of strength left to fight him off. Honey warm smiles and sappy lines, horribly coordinated confrontations. How dare he? Regulus used to seeth. Sirius wasn’t enough; he seeks to ruin us both. 

But space was cold and so horribly empty. Regulus was the smaller star, lacking the heat to warm himself. It was only a matter of time before he began to yearn for the sun. 

(He’d deny it, of course. Would cite James’ complete refusal to back down. Not the fact he’d been burning since he caught sight of those wild curls and ridiculous glasses during his first year.) 

It had taken James seconds to win Sirius over. For Regulus, it took years. 

Years of fire crackling under his skin at James’ glance, a brush of his touch- years of pride wrapping itself so tightly around his throat he could barely speak past it. Years of all-consuming, drowning, rage. 

Rage against the reins of his parents. Rage at the way Sirius had broken them, leaving him still bridled. Rage at the way he wanted, so very badly, for his brother’s attention, for James Potter’s love. 

Rage at the way that he still choked, saltwater and blood in his mouth, despite the fact he had it all. 

Their apartment was small, cozy. James’ had grown up surrounded by warmth- by worn throw blankets and couches meant for comfort and a million grinning pictures. Regulus had grown up without any of those things, and feared his sharp edges would rip all the downy pillows and comforters. But the fire and ice Regulus was made of was no match for the inferno of the sun; he’d always melt. Whether he wanted to or not. 

Hands skirted down his throat, over his shoulders and chest, pushing him down, down, down. He was so used to being cold that even now, after having James for so long, the heat still burned him. Hips against his, his legs spread and arms thrown over his face- movements so gentle they fucking stung, like walking in from a snowstorm and putting your hands up to the fire.

One of James’ hands found his hip, holding it in place as the other continued to stroke every inch of skin. He moved, thrusting slow and steady, so much and not enough all at once. 

“Good, love?” 

Regulus nodded, not trusting his voice. His eyes were already stinging. Some nights, he’d push James back, smirk and laugh and ride him as he pleased. Some nights, he’d shove back against Jame’s strength until they were both left covered in scratches and bites- that flavor of Regulus’ rage hadn’t scared him off, had never scared him. He knew how to wear it out of him. 

But some nights were like this- Regulus, pliant and panting, helpless to the way his throat closed and his legs went limp. Hot kisses trailed over his jaw, chest, stomach- like embers left smoldering on his skin. James’ leaned forward, that one free hand moving to the underside of his thigh and pushing it up until he was nearly folded in half, allowing him to thrust deeper than before. Regulus sobbed, tears finally spilling over, and he bit the meat of his palm. He felt nearly sick with it all. 

“Breathe, love.” 

Oh, how was he supposed to do that? A sharp thrust, just a bit harder than before, and he gasped. James yanked his hands from his face. “Breathe, Regulus.” 

He shifted, and Regulus’ vision whited out for a second. “James,” he cried. 

It was too hot. Even as he shivered, flexing his hands and feeling the coolness of his own fingers. Desperately trying to ground himself.  It’s too hot. 

Nights like this, where the proximity of James sent his stomach roiling, as if he’d had too much sugar. Where he’d toss his head in pleasure, catch sight of the charmed fairy lights lining the bedroom, the band posters and framed group pictures before his eyes rolled back, and it was just so much. 

So much, so goddamn much. It was addicting- terrifying in how much he loved it all. 

James leaned forward, his body covering Regulus’. One hand was still at his hip in a bruising grip- the other cupped his jaw, thumb pressing to the hinge and forcing him to open his mouth. “Where are you, love? Is it too much?” His pace was still steady, still just as nauseatingly sweet.  

He nodded, breath hiccuping. Yes. With you? Always. Always so much. 

James sucked a mark on his collar bone, on the side of his neck, right on the spot that had Regulus kicking his leg and moaning. He kissed him deeply, lips spit-slicked and drinking in his labored breaths. 

“Can you take a little more for me?” 

He really started crying then, overwhelmed. Again, he nodded. Yes, yes. Always, for you.

It was a supernova. James leaned back, pressed him to the mattress, and snapped his hips- far faster than before, unrelenting and deep. He stroked Regulus in time, hand twisting on the upstroke as their hips met, until Regulus was sobbing and shaking apart at the seams. 

“Can you come for me, love?” 

And what else was he to do, when the sun was beckoning him like that? Melting every inch of his skin, leaving his bones and viscera exposed. Sobs had overtaken him, borderline hyperventilating as he came hard across his stomach. Later, he  would be embarrassed about the noises he was making. 

James thrust once, twice more, and came deep inside him. Sweet, too sweet, like desert and over-indulgence and fire, fire, fire- 

He stilled, panting, twitching fingers still stroking delicately across his skin. He trailed them through the mess on Regulus’ stomach almost reverently. Regulus had to kick him away then, too overstimulated to bear the way it made his skin jump. 

James knew him. Knew to pull back as Regulus hid his face and tears once again, pulling his legs as if to cover himself. Sugar and spice and Merlin, would his skin ever feel normal again-

“Breathe, love,” James reminded once again. He was doing his best. Being with James was like drowning- capsized under all the love and rage that crashed down on him. “So good, love. You were so good.”  

He leaned into the hand at his hair, just barely stopping himself from whimpering. It took several more minutes of measured breathing and whispered praise before the buzzing under his skin subsided enough to be held- curling into James’ chest, pressing his face to his neck and mouthing sleepily at its juncture. They both smelled like sweat. 

“Okay, Reg?” James squeezed him, rubbing the back of his neck. 

His chest felt warm, sloppy, like melted chocolate, and his stomach threatened to turn. Being with James made him anything but okay- it was every flaming color of sunset, every gentle hue of sunrise. It was a tsunami, a forest fire. Always so, so much, clawing at his skin and tearing at his mind. 

But he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Perfect,” he replied. 

[jacksonroseroth]

~The Price~Chapter 28~

Moodboard made by @badwolf-in-the-impala none of the pictures are ours

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of murder

~

The next morning, Thatcher and Taddie woke late, the sun nearly halfway into the sky and shining across Thatcher’s bed and the couple. When she roused from her sleep, she soon registered the sunbeams that lit up her face, making her whine and bury her face in Thatcher’s chest. He inhaled, lightly, then yawned as he shifted, curling his arm around her as he turned his head to bury in her curls. He pressed a kiss, then another, then made his way down to her cheek.

“How did you sleep, kitten?” Thatcher whispered, his voice raspy and still laced with sleep. Taddie’s lips curled into a smile before she kissed over his chest, then lifted her head to meet him for a deep, slow kiss.

“Good. Real good. I always sleep good with you, Patch.” Taddie said, brushing her nose against his before stealing another kiss. “Are we late for breakfast?”

“Probably. But it’s okay. Come on, Princess. Let’s get up.” He said, pressing another kiss to her lips before he sat up with a soft groan, rubbing his hands over his face and scratching at his chin. Taddie shifted behind him more as she sat up as well, kissing over his shoulder before wrapping her arm around it, looking at him with a bubbly smile as he cast his gaze back to her, with a smile of his own. As it lifted, he leaned closer, sealing his lips over hers, stealing several kisses before breaking from her, pressing his forehead to hers. “I love you, Taddie.”

Taddie blinked, pulling back, slightly. Thatcher’s brows drew together, briefly, then relaxed as he saw her lips lift into a soft, sweet smile as she nodded and said, “I know…” Her smile fell, slowly, and she bit her lip.

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to, Taddie. I don’t expect you to, unless you’re ready to say it back…If you’re ever so inclined…” Thatcher said, lifting his hand to brush his fingers across her cheek, lightly drawing his brows together. She bit her lip and shook her head with a light sigh as she said, “Thatcher, I-I don’t know--After-I said I’d never fall in love again…I didn’t know what it was then, h-how-how would I know what it is now? I just--”

Taddie chewed her lip and pulled away, tugging the blanket up to tuck it around herself. Thatcher turned to her, leaning back on his elbow as he looked at her with a sympathetic look. Pushing his hand over her thigh, he said, “You’ll know, Princess. You will…W-Whether it’s-it’s me or someone else…You’ll know. It-You’d do anything for that person, anything to make them happy, to see them smile. Sometimes, it feels like you can’t breathe if they aren’t around. They’re the first person you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of when you fall asleep. They brighten your day, just from a text, a 5 minute phone call…You’ll know, baby.”

“Then it definitely wasn’t that the first time…But, the thing is, I-I don’t know what that feels like? I’ve-I’ve never needed to be around someone so bad I felt sick-I never had anyone I felt that close to.” Taddie said, chewing her lip and looking away as she started to sound stupid to herself.

“It’s not about being close. It can happen, it can help. But it’s not about that. It’s on a much deeper level--People can die from a broken heart. It’s so much more than just being close to someone…Look, I-I’m not--I don’t want to pressure you or anything, okay? It-That’s-That’s the whole point of the challenge--You’re not supposed to fall in love with me…But I never said anything about me…” Thatcher said, biting his lip as he heard himself slipping away from the plot. He gave his head a shake, then pressed a kiss to her thigh, through the material, and said, softly, “Come on, Princess. Let’s get dressed.”

Taddie bit her lip and drew her brows together, watching him push away from her and slide off the bed. As he rounded it, going to his closet, Taddie got up and went to one of her suitcases, opening it and pulling out her undergarments, tugging them on, then kept fishing around. She grabbed a pair of fleece lined leggings and a red, plaid flannel, along with a black thermal. She tugged them both on then shoved her feet into socks and a pair of fur lined, tan sherpa boots before she went to the mirror to tie half her hair up and rearrange her curls. As she turned her head from side to side, making sure the part was even, Thatcher walked out in a red and black checkerboard flannel, black tank, black pants and his fur-lined, tan slippers.

The pair stopped when they saw each other, then burst into laughter as Thatcher went to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her, swinging her around a few times before lifting her, guiding her legs around his waist. He chuckled and pressed a deep kiss to her lips before he went to the door and opened it. He chuckled as he carried her out and down the stairs, Taddie beginning to wiggle around in his arms until he dropped her to her feet and pressed a kiss to her temple. Taking her hand, he led her through another portion of the house, to a small dining room, where the family sat waiting. Taddie’s smile fell and she chewed her lip, feeling guilty that they’d slept in. But it didn’t seem to be a problem when they walked in and Tristan and Theo began teasing him.

“Damn, Thatcher. You’d think bringing a girl home would make you on time for Christmas Eve breakfast for once.” Theo said with a snicker as Tristan smirk beside him. Thatcher made a mocking face at his brothers, pulling out Taddie’s chair and tucking it under her as she sat. She giggled softly and glanced up at him as he slipped into the chair beside her and said, “We’re both late sleepers, sue me. They always take longer for Tom’s breakfast and they should be out any second.”

Thomas mock laughed before shooting his brother a look, sitting beside him. Thatcher glanced at him and gave him a nudge as he snickered. Taddie furrowed her brows and narrowed her gaze, briefly, before she turned to Thatcher and asked, quietly, “Wait…His breakfast? What-Wh-?”

“Christmas Eve is a personally prepared breakfast. Everyone has their own menu-I already gave them yours when we got here on Friday.” Thatcher said, giving her a warm smile and chuckled as her eyes went wide for a moment.

“Wait-Wha-We-Well-What-What did you tell them? You didn’t make them do the egg bagel with strawberry cream cheese, did you?” Taddie asked, worried. Thatcher smirked and pressed a kiss to her temple before he said, “I did…But the bakers made croissants for the weekend. So, it’s your scrambled eggs and sausage, but it’s sausage patties?”

“That’s fine.” Taddie said, dismissively, wanting to hear the rest. He chuckled and said, “French toast, fruit, and a croissant, toasted with a homemade jam…Is that too much?”

“No, it-That sounds good, actually. I just hope they don’t give me a lot…” Taddie said, chewing her lip as her anxiety happily began eating away at her appetite. Thatcher cast his gaze across the table to his brothers, nodding at them. The twins nodded back, matching smirks crossing their faces as they exchanged looks. They quickly excused themselves and slipped out of the room, Taddie raising a brow and turning to look up at Thatcher.

“We do big breakfasts. But I think I have way to help…Come with me-” Thatcher said, quietly to her, taking her hand and the pair of them slipping out the same side door the twins had. She giggled as she gripped his hand, trying to keep up with him, then he stopped, catching her in his arms and pulling her through a side door, down a hallway and into a greenhouse, where Theo and Tristan already were. The twins turned and smirked, Tristan holding a joint, Theo holding a lighter.

Skidding to a stop, Taddie pulled her hand from Thatcher’s, giving him a look as she said, “Have you lost your mind?! I’m not getting high at your family’s house during-”

“We do this every year, Taddie.” Theo said with a soft laugh, taking the joint from his twin and sparking it up with a deep inhale.

“We’ve been doing it all weekend. We just hide it well.” Tristan said, taking the joint as Theo offered it to him. Taddie blinked and looked up at Thatcher as he chuckled and went to her, pulling her to him as he said, “You said you smoke to eat. If we get caught, I’ll take the blame…And this way, the sleigh ride will be a little more fun. Be a rebel with me, baby.”

“They don’t know you do this?” Taddie asked, letting Thatcher lead her over as she glanced at the twins, raising her brows. Thatcher slid his arm around Taddie’s waist, gently, taking the joint from Tristan as he passed it, blowing out his hit before he said, “Our father does. He’s come out a few times, usually after dinner, taken a few hits then gone back in. If Mother finds out, she’d kill him for doing it, us for doing it and giving it to him.”

“Oh, gee, that makes me feel better…” Taddie, pouted at him, making the twins snicker softly. She chewed her lip and shifted on her feet as she added, “Your mother scares the fuck out of me…Sh-She’s very proper, isn’t she?”

“She didn’t used to be. Her and my father used to be wild children, hellions. But then she got pregnant with Tom and settled down while my father let his rebellion run its course into taking over the family business.” Theo said, pulling another joint from his pocket for him and Tristan to share. Taddie turned the corners of her lips down and gave an understanding nod, then turned to Thatcher as he offered her the joint.

As she took it, he said, “I know you usually do gummies-”

“Oh, no, we smoke. We’ve just gravitated toward gummies because we usually end up hacking so hard we throw up and that-that-that’s not attractive or fun.” Taddie said, ashing the joint before sticking it between her lips, inhaling slowly. Thatcher bit his lip as he watched her, his lips curving in a smirk as he slid his fingers along her throat, taking her chin and turning it toward him as she pulled the joint away. She giggled as he sealed his lips to hers and she blew the smoke into his mouth as she kissed him back. Her cheeks burned as she broke the kiss and bit her lip as Thatcher blew out the remnants of smoke, the twins offering combined wolf whistles.

“Hey-ey--Fuck off.” Thatcher said, flipping off his brothers with a smirk, curling Taddie closer to him as she giggled, holding the joint away from them. She took another hit, holding it in as she passed the joint to Thatcher, then blew it out in a smooth line.

“Mmm-This is strong shit. Wow.” Taddie said with a light cough.

“We make a few day trips to Amsterdam and Germany every now and then. Keep ourselves stocked. You’re more than welcome to take some back with you. Consider it a Christmas gift. If Thatch gave us better notice, we’d have more for you.” Theo said, shooting his older brother a teasing smirk.

“Well, now you know she’s around. So I expect you to make it up to her every Sunday.” Thatcher teased back with a light laugh. Taddie shot him a look and quickly said, “Please don’t? I-I don’t need a bunch of shit. U-Um, but I-I may take you up on the weed offer? Ash would just die-Tris, you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not, and please let her know it was from me.” Tristan said with a laugh, passing the joint back and forth between his twin. Taddie nodded and giggled as she leaned against Thatcher, beginning to sway on her feet, slightly.

“Ooh-Okay, I think I’m good? I don’t want anymore or I’m gonna blow the whole operation.” Taddie said with a giggle. Thatcher snickered and took a final hit, handing the rest of the dying joint to Tristan and clapping hands with them both before he led Taddie back inside. She giggled and bit her lip as she followed him back down the hall, stopping him at the corner and glancing around before looking up at him with a playful smirk.

“Oohh-I forgot, we get touchy when we get stoned…It hit you that fast? Fuck.” Thatcher snickered as she pushed her hands up his arms then dragged them down his chest as she lifted on her toes and said, “Be nice to me…I could return the favor.”

“Mm-Yes, Princess…” Thatcher rumbled at her before sealing his lips to hers in a rough, heated kiss. Taddie let out a light moan then slowly guided his hands under her shirt, pushing them up as she deepened the kiss, inhaling sharply as she let her mouth drop open for his tongue to wrestle with hers. He groaned into the kiss, closing his fingers over her bra-clad breasts, squeezing gently. She let out a soft whimper before her fingers found the top buttons of his shirt, quickly undoing the first few to push her hands over his skin. “Fuuuck--Angel, we need to go. Later, Princess, I promise, ja?”

A defiant whimper slipped from her throat before she let out a light gasp then pulled away, taking a half step back as she panted, softly. Thatcher quickly closed the space between them, taking her hips and pressing a slow, soft kiss to her lips.

“Don’t get me wrong, angel-This surprised me and it was very hot…But it’s just bad timing.” Thatcher cooed against her lips, stealing another kiss before looking down at her. She sucked her lip into her mouth and nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting lightly. Her hands lifted and quickly did up his buttons before she lifted to press another kiss to his lips, then let him take her hand and guide her through the door, where one of the butlers stood with a tray, a number of bottles sitting on it. “You didn’t put on perfume before, right?”

“No. Why?-What is--Is all this perfume?” Taddie asked, picking up an ornate looking, pink glass bottle and removing the top. A long gold stick with a cotton tip was attached and she lifted it to her nose. The scent of roses and lilacs filled her nose and she quickly rubbed the pad on her inner wrists, then each to the sides of her neck.

“So, it’s not perfume…” Thatcher started, his smirk spread wildly and crooked across his face. Taddie shot him a glare and he let out a laugh as he said, “Alright-No jokes. You like that one?”

“It smells beautiful. I love it. Roses and lilacs?” Taddie asked, rubbing her wrists on each sleeve then inhaling deeply. He nodded and her smile widened as she said, “They’re two of my favorite scents. I like lemongrass and vanilla too, but I’ve never seen them in a perfume before.”

“I’ll find them for you, angel, don’t worry.” Thatcher said, snagging a bottle of cologne and spraying a mist before walking into it, then set the bottle back down. She took his hand as he offered it and gave him a coy smirk before she said, “I have to ask--Where’d angel come from? Not complaining, just curious.”

“Dunno. Just felt right. You want me to use it more?” He asked as they walked back toward the dining room. She shook her head and leaned against him as she said, “No, no. I like it when it just pops up.”

Thatcher dropped a kiss to her lips as they walked back into the room and retook their seats. Taddie was rather surprised no one questioned their absence, though Leah gave her a surprised look, then chuckled, wrinkling her nose, teasingly, at her. Taddie blushed and quickly picked up her water glass, taking a few slow sips before setting it down again. As she slid her hand over Thatcher’s thigh, leaning against him, Tristan and Theo came snickering into the room, their eyes tinted red and Taddie shook her head at them with a light giggle.

It wasn’t long after the twins’ return that another door swung open and the cooks walked out carrying plates and plates of food. They set each person’s order in front of them, then set additional plates of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast in the middle of the table. Taddie smiled as her plate was set in front of her; Two slices of French toast with syrup and powdered sugar beside a large helping of scrambled eggs, three sausage patties, a small bowl of fruit mix, then on a separate plate, two halves of a croissant that were toasted and slathered in a deep red jelly. She gave Thatcher’s thigh a squeeze as she giggled and looked up to him.

“Did I do good, baby?” He teased, pressing a kiss to her temple before she nodded and said, “It looks amazing-Yes, Patch, thank you.”

Before Taddie could so much as cut into her French Toast, Tora piped up with, “Taddie, I never got the chance to ask you yesterday--Did you get a tattoo as well when you two went to town? I noticed you had a few last night.”

Thatcher gave his mother a look before casting his gaze down to Taddie, as she looked up at the older woman and took a breath and said, “I did. I, um, started a cover up f-for a, uh, an old scar.”

“I see--And, now, forgive me in asking, but I’ve asked all my daughters when they joined our family-You have no children?” Tora asked, breezing past one touchy subject into another.

“Mother!” Thatcher cried, sitting back and rubbing his hand over his face with a sigh. Taddie flinched and quickly looked down as her sadness swelled inside her. She struggled to push it down but still sniffled a few times before she cleared her throat and said, “No…I, uhm-Actually, I-I can’t--I got tested a few years ago.”

“Mother.” Thatcher said in a warning tone.

“We have no secrets from each other in this family, Thatcher. I assume she already knows our dark secret? There’s no harm in exchanging a few more.” Tora said, her voice just as firm before she looked at Taddie and said, “Rest assured, Taddie, nothing you say here will ever be used against you, nor will you be judged. No one at this table is perfect or a saint. We’ve all done and seen things…You are in a safe space here, my girl.”

Taddie bit her lip to keep it from trembling before she looked up at Tora as she reached out to pat the back of Taddie’s hand, lightly. Taddie nodded and Tora gestured toward her plate and said, “Eat. We have a very busy day today--Do you do much baking?”

“Uhm, u-uh, some-sometimes, with my best friend, Ash. Yeah.” Taddie said, quickly wiping her face and clearing her throat. Tora gave her a smile and an approving nod before she said, “Wonderful. We have lots of sugar cookies to make for frosting. Leah wants to make chocolate pudding pie, Luna wants Swedish ginger cookies. Lara is making the apple pies and tarts.”

“Thatcher told me--I didn’t realize there would be so many sweets.” Taddie said with a light, awkward giggle that bubbled up. Tora raised a brow at her son as she took a bite of sausage and chewed. Thatcher smirked back at her as she said, “Did he? Spoiled the surprise. What else did he tell you?”

“Um, well, he said Christmas Eve was just, like, a day of traditions? Sleigh rides, lunch in the garden, ice skating? I-I asked. I wanted to know what to expect--I-I like to know what the plan is when I’m nervous and anxious…” Taddie said with a sheepish smile. Tyr chuckled from the other end of the table, turning their attention to him as he said, “Are you afraid of us, my girl?”

“Did I say afraid?” Taddie challenged, quickly regretting it, but she heard snickers from the brothers and soft laughs from the women as Tyr let out a light rumble of his own.

“What makes you nervous then, my dear?” Tyr asked in a genuine question. “You know none of us will harm you nor let it come to you.”

“I know. Thatcher has made that clear…Um, it-it’s just…Being around family-A boyfriend’s family-It-It just makes me nervous. I-I feel like I’m intruding, since you all didn’t know I was coming…” Taddie said, pushing her eggs around in the syrup before quickly scooping them into her mouth to shut herself up. Tyr raised a brow, exchanging a look with Thatcher, first, then with his wife.

“Not at all, Taddie. If you’re seeing my son-I hear you’re living together?-You’re more than welcome here. He seems very taken with you.” Tyr said, giving her a warm smile. Taddie’s cheeks heated and a smile sprang across her face before she could fight it, Thatcher pressing a kiss to her temple as he smiled down at her. Taddie glanced up at him with a sweet smile before she looked at Tyr and said, “We, uh, we are. We only just moved in, though--He’s…Very charming himself…When he wants to be.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling his mother for years.” Tyr teased his wife before kissing at her with a chuckle. He dug into his food as Tora wrinkled her nose at him with a giggle, then said, “It’s an affectionate charm, my love. You receive plenty from me as well--Have you never met your boyfriend’s parents before?”

Taddie’s fork froze as she stabbed at a piece of toast, taking a deep breath as she shook her head and said, “Um…No. My ex-He, uhm, I was w-with the kid for 8 years but h-he, uh, he didn’t think-didn’t think I should…Wasn’t good enough-”

“I’m sure that’s not why-”

“It was when he said it.” Taddie snapped, quickly setting her fork down and pulling her hands into her lap. Thatcher quickly swallowed his bite, wiping his mouth before sliding his arm around her shoulders as he whispered to her softly. She closed her eyes and shook her head with a sigh, then said, “I haven’t had the smoothest life and-and I have a lot of issues…So…I j-I just wanted…To put that out there…”

“My father shot my mother in a fit of rage when I was young in France. He was sent to jail and I was sent to New York to be raised by my verbally abusive aunt.” Lara piped up, staring down at her bowl of porridge, stirring it slowly. Taddie let out a soft gasp and looked down at her, Thomas quickly turning to his wife and drawing his brows together as he whispered to her in French. The comment caused a stunned reaction from everyone. Lara gave her husband a comforting response in kind, then looked at Taddie with a sympathetic smile.

“You are no intruder here, Taddie.” Tyr said with a smile as her gaze shifted to him. “You’re with family when you’re here, is that clear?”

Taddie gave him a smile and nodded as she said, “Yes, sir…Thank you.”

“Now, let’s finish up so we can catch the ga-I mean, so we can go on a leisurely sleigh ride before our lovely women work hard to-”

“Shut up and eat your food, my darling.” Tora said with a laugh, slipping another sausage link into her mouth. Tyr snickered and continued eating as scattered conversations picked up and Taddie let out a deep breath. Thatcher kissed her temple and asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…I-I don’t mean to keep snapping--” Taddie started, looking up at him with guilt in her eyes. He shook his head and dropped a quick kiss to her lips before he said, “It’s okay. Just eat, Princess, ja?”

~

Let me know what you guys think! <3 If you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me a message! <3

Taglist: @badwolf-in-the-impala @sweetwombatpizza

[honeypiehotchner]

Satan’s Waterfall (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

I couldn’t think of a name for this to save my life, but Satan’s waterfall is literally what I call my period so... (Also this is 100% self-insert because my period was from actual HELL yesterday)

I wrote this instead of doing my homework. Enjoy xx

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: SMUT! period sex in the shower, “good girl” is said many times, Daddy kink (a lil), slight size kink (it’s inevitable with him), you and Hotch are newly married (I wrote “husband” organically and kept it)

It’s the second day of your period.

The first day is always the worst. The cramps are so severe that you’re nauseated (sometimes actually to the point of puking your guts out) and dizzy, freezing but somehow sweating, hungry but in too much pain to bring yourself to eat more than some crackers, and in desperate need of chocolate or coffee -- even though both of those things make everything else a thousand times worse.

You’re on birth control -- which was Aaron’s first question when he witnessed your period for the first time, completely on accident because you forgot you invited him over when your period was scheduled to hit. So, needless to say, it was maybe your fourth date night ever with your now-husband, and he had to hold your hair back as you puked. You had meant to reschedule that night, but you honestly weren’t feeling too bad until halfway through the movie the two of you decided to watch.

Regardless, birth control helps regulate your period and put it on a schedule, but so far it hasn’t done much to help the pain. Although, you used to pass out, and you don’t anymore, so maybe birth control has helped in a slight way.

Aaron doesn’t think it has at all. He still worries every single month, threatening to take time off of work (at least on the first day) to be with you, but you always tell him not to. You essentially threaten to become an unsub if he doesn’t take his ass to work, but he doesn’t find the joke as funny as you do.

Sometimes he’ll stay home because he’ll wake up and you’ll be in a shivering mess on the bathroom floor, or wide-awake next to him in bed (did anyone say period-induced insomnia?), or groaning to yourself quietly on the couch, having been there for hours so as not to disturb him.

Which is how yesterday went, actually, so that’s why he’s not home today because you told him if he stays home again to coddle you, you might become a fuming toddler.

Thankfully (but unfortunately for him), Chief Strauss called a meeting, so he had no choice but to go to work.

The second days aren’t even that bad. You’re still basically bed-ridden (or couch-ridden, at least, because the TV is in the living room), but you’re not puking and you’re not dizzy. You occasionally sweat like crazy when a wave of cramps comes, but nothing like yesterday.

You’ve showered, changed into new sweatpants and one of Aaron’s old t-shirts, had breakfast and lunch, and you’ve even done a load of laundry (mainly because you bled through the sheets last night). You’re having a much better day.

But, because it’s still that time of the month, it isn’t a great day because you’re still cramping. And lucky you, a bad wave hits right when Aaron walks in from work.

“I told you to let me stay today,” he says gently, pushing the hair back from your sweaty forehead.

“These are nothin’,” you whine, reaching out for his hand to hold anyway. “They’ll be gone soon.”

“You’re pale. Have you eaten?”

“Mhm, breakfast and lunch,” you nod, letting your eyes slip closed when the cramps ease. You feel your heating pad getting cold. It must’ve turned off. You start fumbling around for the controller, but Aaron beats you to it, turning it back on.

“That’s good,” he says. “What about water?”

“Oh, oops,” you chuckle. “I had one glass this morning.”

“And?”

“Anddd coffee.”

“Y/N…” He sighs. “What have I told you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I need to drink extra water when I’m like this. But here’s my thing: I’m suffering enough already, why make me suffer more by making me drink water?”

“Because it’s good for you,” he mutters, standing to fill a glass. “And you’re drinking more tonight. I don’t care if you’re up peeing all night--”

“I’ll wake you up every damn time I do.”

“Gladly,” he smirks, returning with the glass. “Come on, up. Drink.”

Begrudgingly, you sit up, muttering curses under your breath because now your back is cold which means you’re hurting more. Wordlessly, Aaron lifts the heating pad and holds it to your back while you drink some water.

“Good girl,” he says, taking the empty glass from you and sitting it on the coffee table.

“Don’t say that to me,” you grumble, already laying back down and grabbing a blanket, tucking it under your chin.

“Why not?” He asks, smoothing your hair again, smiling when you close your eyes.

“Because it gives me thoughts.”

“Thoughts?”

You open your eyes a little. “Thoughts.”

Aaron chuckles when you close your eyes again, effectively hiding from him. “Honey pie, you’re going to have to tell me what thoughts you’re talking about.”

“You know what thoughts I’m talking about,” you breathe. “Sexy thoughts.”

“Ahh, sexy thoughts,” he laughs.

“But I can’t have those right now.”

“Why not?”

“Hello?” You open your eyes, giving him a look. “It’s the time of Satan’s waterfall?”

“Satan’s-- Okay, just because you’re on your period, doesn’t mean we can’t have sex. It might make you feel better.”

“Oh, orgasms do, yes. I’ve had two today.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that look. My issue is, I want you inside me when you call me a good girl.”

“I still can be.”

You scrunch your nose. “Too messy. I just washed the sheets.”

“Not in bed,” Aaron squeezes your hand. “We have a shower.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Is my husband into period sex?”

He laughs loudly. “I’ve always thought about it, but you’re always in so much pain, I didn’t want to ask.”

“We’ve done worse things than have sex while I’m bleeding.”

“Yeah, but…” He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles. “I never want to hurt you.”

You can’t help but grab his face and kiss him then, too overcome with love for him to stop yourself. His care, his tenderness. You’ve asked him to throw you around like a literal ragdoll before, and yet he’s still worried about hurting you.

“You know I’ll tell you,” you whisper, stealing another kiss. “You never hurt me. At least not in ways I don’t like.”

He groans into your mouth. “Time for a shower.”

“Already?” You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He lifts you from the couch and guides your legs around his torso, all the while keeping his lips on yours. He digs his fingers into your thighs and you squeal, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You have no idea how he manages to get to the bathroom without knocking into anything, but you’re not questioning it.

He sets you down and you start ripping off your clothes, and he joins you after turning the shower on.

“Someone’s excited,” he chuckles, feeling your fingers on his belt. All you have on are your panties, but he’s still got pants on which is unfair.

“Hey, you suggested it, so I want it.”

“Okay, okay,” he tosses his belt out into the bedroom, laughing because you’re already unbuttoning and unzipping him. “You are eager.”

“I’m horny,” you correct him. “And it’s your fault.”

“I know, sweet girl,” he kisses your forehead. “But I’ll take care of it.”

“You better.”

While he’s busy finishing undressing, you kick your panties away and hop in the shower, adjusting the temperature.

Aaron steps in a moment later, a stupid grin on his face. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” you reply, relaxing under the hot water. “This feels good.”

His face softens. “Are you hurting again?”

“Not really,” you roll your shoulders. “Don’t get shy on me now.”

“I’m not,” he promises, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” you tug him closer, tilting your head to accept his kiss.

He starts slow, wanting to gauge your reactions before he does anything too drastic. He rubs your clit gently, waiting until he hears a moan before he continues. When his tongue slips into your mouth, one finger sinks into your core.

It’s different, that he’ll admit. You feel warmer and wetter, but you’re definitely not in any pain. Your moans are too loud for that.

He dips his head to your neck, suckling there, letting you thread your fingers in his hair while he slips a second finger into you. You gasp a little too loud and a little too suddenly, so he stops, but quickly starts again when your fingernails dig into his scalp in protest.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles against the hickey on your neck.

“More,” you whimper.

He scissors his fingers, wrapping his free arm around your waist to keep you steady. The added pressure of three of his fingers buried inside you nearly makes your knees buckle. Everything about him is so big and it makes you weak when you even as much as think about it.

He moves back to your lips, kissing you deeply, pausing only to ask, “How does that feel, little one?”

“M’gonna cum,” is your only reply, your eyes squeezed shut.

“Go ahead,” he whispers. “As much as you want, sweet girl. This is all about making you feel good. There you go.” He feels the first flutterings of your walls. He spreads his fingers slightly, knowing you love the stretch, when his fingers press right into your g-spot. “Come on, honey. Let go.” He moves his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles before spreading his fingers once more, shooting you over the edge.

You cling to his shoulders, nearly biting him from the force of it. Everything is so much more sensitive when you’re on your period and you knew that, but it’s different when it’s him. It always is.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, easing you to the ending waves of your orgasm. “How was that?”

“Amazing, do you even need to ask?” You laugh, kissing him. “Can you please get inside me?”

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy.” You bat your eyelashes for good measure, even though you know he wouldn’t tease you, not right now. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Of course,” he steals another kiss before finally taking his fingers from you. Wordlessly, he washes the blood away, and you should’ve known he wouldn’t give two shits about this.

And you’re right, he doesn’t. The sight of blood doesn’t phase him anymore, especially not your period because it’s natural. And right now he’s too worried about making you feel good to even bother pretending to be grossed out by it.

He’s already hard, so you can’t help but reach down and stroke him, grinning when he groans loudly.

Before you can blink, though, he has you up in his arms and against the wall, your legs already settling around his hips.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” he says again, looking into your eyes. “Okay?”

“Yes, I promise,” you assure him.

Accepting that answer, he drops his hand to guide himself inside of you, moving as slow as possible -- which you appreciate, even if you do want to be fucked. But you’ve never had sex on your period before, not even with previous partners, so you weren’t sure if having a dick inside you would actually feel good.

But damn it does.

You know part of it is because it’s Aaron, your husband, your best friend. His dick is good on a normal day, but when you’re sensitive from your period, it’s even better.

“Oh my fucking God.”

“What?” He stops moving, leaning his head back to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair again. “Nothing. It feels good.”

He smirks, rocking his hips slowly, letting you take more of him. “Feels good?” He asks, and you nod. “Is it wrong of me to enjoy this?” He whispers, going deeper. “You’re so warm.”

“Harder, please.”

He slams his hips forward, nipping at your neck when you whine loudly. “Are you gonna cum again?”

You nod your head lazily, locking your ankles behind his back, arching your back, forcing him deeper. A groan stutters in his throat when he feels his head teasing your cervix.

You like that normally, but his paranoia has him pulling back. “Are you--”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me.”

He doesn’t question you after that, especially not with the lethal look you had in your eyes.

With no more hesitations, Aaron finally gives in. Every thrust is deep, yet you still push your hips up, trying to take even more. He’s never seen you like this, this greedy and almost animalistic in the way you’re chasing your orgasm.

He lets you guide him, staying still when you pull him in as deep as he can go and hold him there. He nearly explodes a few times, having to stay still while your walls pulsate around him.

Soon you’re quite literally thrown into your second orgasm when Aaron’s thumb rubs your clit as he pushes in deep, staying there, letting you squirm until he tells you to let go, and you do.

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing your cheek lovingly. “That’s my good girl.”

Once your orgasm has settled down, he carefully lifts you off of him, setting you back on your feet. A puzzled look crosses your face.

“What?”

“You didn’t…”

He smiles. “I told you, I wanted to make you feel good.”

“And you did, but--”

“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He kisses your forehead once before turning to rinse off his dick, but you’re not giving up that easily.

You sneak your hands around his waist, resting your cheek on the middle of his back while you swat his hands out of the way.

“Little girl...what do you think you’re doing?”

“Making you feel good,” you murmur, gently stroking him.

It doesn’t take long for him to cum with a muffled cuss word under his breath. You sigh happily against his back, letting go of his dick to hug him instead.

Aaron turns around to gather you in his arms, moving forward slightly so your face isn’t directly under the water. “Is someone tired?”

You shake your head, even though you practically bury yourself in his chest. “Just content.”

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” you giggle. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

[wearywinchester]

Healing Hands

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: After returning from a hunt, you’re there to patch Dean up.

Requested by Anonymous: ““Let me bandage you up.” and “Let me see your scars…” are sooooo Dean omg”

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: injury, mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol, scars, fluff, kissing

The very moment your hand fell to the mattress, the spot empty and cold just to your left, a heavy sigh huffed past your lips. The old bedroom was dimly lit as the occasional glow of moonlight streamed through the sheer curtains, quickly covered by more rain clouds as the night ticked by, the room quiet save for the wind swaying the trees outside. On the nightstand to your right, the alarm clock read 12:07 in blaring red numbers, blurred from the drowsiness that hadn’t quite left yet.

He still hadn’t come to bed.

With a yawn, you push back the tattered flannel blanket sprawled over you, bare feet pressing to the cool hardwood floors of the small bedroom as you make your way to the door. You knew exactly where he’d be as you wandered through the hall and down the stairs, Bobby’s snoring still just as loud as it’s ever been. The carpet lining the staircase was worn away from years of the same foot traffic in the same spots, fraying at the edges and threadbare in some places. You wince at the creaky squeals they made even with the slightest pressure upon them, sneaking a glance at Sam still nestled comfortably on the couch. As comfortably as he could be with the way his feet hung ever so obviously over the arm of it and his fingertips nearly brushing against the floor.

One simple move and surely he’d fall off.

You stepped lightly through the room and around the heaps of lore books piled on the floor around the old coffee table, one laying face down and open atop Sam’s chest as he slept peacefully. You knew he’d been looking for a new case even though you just got back from a hunt mere hours earlier, but that’s just how Sam was.

The softest glow of light filtering out from the kitchen leads you in the right direction, the very same direction you’d been heading in anyway. When you rounded the corner your lips pursed immediately at the sight, one you knew you’d be seeing and you were right, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe as your arms crossed over your chest. You eyed the empty beer bottle on the counter, two bent bottle caps to accompany it and you heaved the softest of sighs.

Standing just paces away from you was your beau, the man you’d been in search of for no longer than a couple minutes as he stood with his back to you at the small kitchen sink. If you had to guess, he’d been gazing at the tree line on the very edge of Bobby’s property, his mind probably going a mile a minute otherwise he’d have been in bed already.

In a matter of moments he’d turned his head, the silhouette of his nose and angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the raise of his brow coming into view.

“I thought I told you not to wait up for me, sweetheart,” he said softly, voice gruff and mildly frustrated all the same.

You roll your eyes, head tilting to the side. “And I thought you knew better than to believe I’d ever listen.”

He chuckles then, half humorously and half not as he turns to face you and lean back against the counter. That was the problem, you hadn’t listened almost the entirety of that day and it brought you closer to danger than he ever would have liked you to be. Your independence was something he would always love about you, but sometimes he wishes you weren’t so fearless for just once.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks at you, lips pursing to match your own. That’s when you saw it. You saw the smudges of crimson still remaining on his cheek and that alone was telling that he had yet to touch the graze on the top of his shoulder. You should have known better than to take his word for it when he said he’d do it.

His brow quirks up all the more when you walk the few paces towards the cabinet with a less than pleased expression.

“What are you doing?” He asked, watching as you pulled out the first aid kit, taking a sip from his beer.

“Let me bandage you up.”

“‘M fine, Y/n.”

The look you give him is one that has a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, one that deepened the displeasure you held because you were absolutely not amused. Not even a little bit. But he takes a seat at the kitchen table with a huff anyway, his gaze on you as you set everything down on the worn surface.

“I thought you said you were gonna do this, Dean,” you sigh, exasperated, digging through the kit in search of a few cotton pads and a bandage for his shoulder, snagging a few strips for his face.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he argues quietly, swirling the beer around in its bottle before flashing you a smile.

“Yeah, that’s the last time I’ll take your word for it.”

It’s quiet for a few moments and you can feel his stare, stealing a glance to meet his gaze before you look back at the task at hand, grabbing what you need and pushing the kit off to the side and out of your way. It was obvious you weren’t all too happy with him, he could tell by the soft frown tugging downwards on your lips and the furrow of your brows, by the way you tense your jaw no matter how subtle it was.

“Y/n—”

“I’m serious, Dean. You always say you’re fine and you’re not. You still have blood on your face,” you say, refraining from raising your voice as the frustration simmered in your stomach.

He sighed, his own jaw clenching as he looked away for a moment. Taking care of himself as never the first of his priorities, especially after hunts. His priorities were always you, whether it was when you were his stubborn best friend who made it a point to prove to him you’ve got this whole hunting thing down, that you could handle things yourself, or if it’s now and you’re the love of his life who shaved years off of it each and every time you do your own thing the second he puts the car in park on a hunt. It’s you and it’ll always be you.

He brought his hand up, smoothing the crease between your brows with the pad of his thumb as his chin rests atop the glass bottle he held to the table. His hand drops a fraction to settle on your cheek, calloused and warm. He always knew just what to do to get your anger to melt, to get you to not be quite so mad at him and you hated to say it was working. It was working and he knew it. He knew it when you grabbed his wrist and tugged his hand away, shoving it lightly as the corner of your mouth quirks upwards just enough to have you rolling your eyes to hide it.

You always did that and he’s come to know exactly what it meant.

“That’s not gonna work on me forever, De,” you say, trying to sound matter of fact with your words.

He laughs softly, grinning up at you. “Yeah it will.”

You exhale a huff, giving up your efforts on stifling the softness of your smile because you knew he was right. You couldn’t when he looked at you the way he did with a certain fondness reserved just for you. With a shake of your head you gather your thoughts once more from before he’d gone and distracted you, ripping open an alcohol pad before unraveling it. He winced at the sting it caused when you swiped it over his skin, grazing over the scratch across his cheek that he’d neglected since you got back to Bobby’s for the night.

“Easy there, would you, sweetheart?” He grumbles, lips pursed and brows furrowed.

“Oh, shut up,” you murmur, smile widening when he nudged you with his knee in disapproval.

It was then that you dipped down, lips pressing gently to his own to soften the grumpy attitude that surely was brewing the more you tended to his wounds. In fact, you knew it was with the way he bounced his knee under the table. You felt his smile press into your kiss, his lips lingering over your own to steal another before you went and pulled away from him. You knew how to ease his anger just as much as he knew how to ease yours, his grin still apparent when you pull back enough to see it.

“Don’t start thinkin’ that’s gonna work on me forever,” he says, copying your earlier words.

You raise a brow in amusement, leaning down to hover mere centimeters over his lips. You felt his breath fan over your skin and his nose brush against your own as he leaned all the more closer.

“I’ll try and remember that.”

You pull yourself away once more and the look on his face has you smiling, a laugh leaving your lips when he frowns, lips pursing till those dimples you love oh so much appear at the corners of his mouth. You reach behind you and grab the bandages you snagged from the kit, the cut on his cheek superficial enough to only require a couple of closure strips to heal as it needs to.

Next, you peel back the sleeve of his shirt, the soft gray material having been stained crimson on his shoulder, more than it probably would have been had he tended to it like he said he would. But you were too tired to argue over something so trivial, not after the day you’d had. What you weren’t too tired to do was flash him another displeased look at the sight of the scrape running red and irritated along his skin, some parts deeper than others. It wasn’t something that could just be let go, not with the way Dean gets bumps and bruises every other day.

He groaned when you grabbed the peroxide, something he hated each and every time you used it. He’s suffered some of the worst injuries, but he’s convinced it’s something as simple as an antiseptic that’ll kill him.

“Sweetheart,” he grumbles into his beer bottle, one you’re quick to swipe from him mid gulp and put it out of reach.

“It’s midnight, De,” you sigh.

He sits back in his chair with slumped shoulders, letting his eyes fall closed and allowing you to clean him up. You pressed a fresh hand towel you snagged from a cupboard and held it below the wound, careful as you poured some of the clear liquid over it. He tensed immediately, brows furrowing as he reached for his drink once more. He gives up when he can’t reach it, sitting back in his seat with that ever familiar frown again.

You cap the bottle and set it aside, gentle as you blot at his shoulder. His gaze bounces around from the window by the table to the clock hung a tad bit crookedly on the wall, it’s pendulum swinging lightly as the ticking filled the near quiet of the room. Then his gaze drops to the table, his fingers tapping against the scratched wood as he puckers his lips in thought. Something was going through that head of his and you knew it, knew by the way he bit the inside of his cheek. You knew it for a fact when you saw the smile appear on his lips the more he thought about it, even more so when the softest of laughs puffs out through his nose.

“Remember the first time you ever patched me up?” He asks, eyes lifting to meet yours.

Your own smile was instant, the thought quick to come to mind. You set down the towel in favor of grabbing the gauze and the half-used roll of bandage, turning back to him. “We were nineteen, and you just came back from a nasty hunt after playing tough guy with a wendigo.”

“I had it handled,” he defended, voice faltering as he recalled just what happened with a grin.

“You said that then too,” you counter, eyes rolling as you chuckle to yourself. You rest the gauze over the top of his shoulder before unraveling the roll of bandage. “You were sitting almost in this exact spot too.”

“Once a tough guy always a tough guy, huh sweetheart?”

If you roll your eyes another time they just might stay there, your head shaking and your smile widening. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

He’s beaming by this point. “I can’t be the handsome hero all the time.”

Your smile goes from teasing to soft, dipping down to press a kiss to his forehead, one that he very much got the utmost joy out of as he looked at you. “And remember what you said to me that night?”

“‘Let me see your scars’,” you said at the same time.

“But, out of all your hunting scars, you know which one is my favorite?” You hum, tucking in the end of the bandage once you finished wrapping it, tugging down his sleeve. “That one right above your knee when Sam accidentally knocked you off your bike when we were kids. Your dad didn’t let you see us for a week after that.”

“Because you were a troublemaker,” you jest.

“Was not.”

“Were too,” you argue, tone softening. “Still are. Ten years later you still are.”

Your words were backed when your eyes fell to his hand, catching a glimpse of the repercussions of getting worked up when a demon tries to get in even a word about you. Not to mention words that got Dean more than a little angry. He still didn’t master the ability to tune them out when they say things to work him up, that’s what they do. They can say all they want about him, but not you.

You brushed your thumb over his knuckles, sighing quietly as you looked at just how red and angry they looked, near purple and you knew his hand had to be sore. It was clear to see he’d at least cleaned them up but you knew it couldn’t have been anything more than the dish soap Bobby had under the kitchen sink. He was never really one to look after himself, especially after hunts. Unless he’d been seriously injured, he couldn’t care less about other things because he was too busy fussing over you. Even if you’d gotten something as simple as a scratch, he’d worry and he’d frown, he’d overdo it with the bandages and he’d grumble about it.

He watched as you ran your fingers over each knuckle, a delicate sweep along his skin and he knew it was because you were afraid of hurting him any more than that demon did. He heard your sigh and he saw the softest of frowns on your lips. Without a word he pulled you closer, sitting down on his lap.

“I would say I can’t believe you didn’t patch yourself up, but I can,” you say, watching the way his lips quirk into a smile.

“Maybe I just like when you do it,” he shrugs, his smile widening as he bumps your nose with his.

“You’re a dork,” you murmur with a sigh.

“I’ll take it,” he says softly, still smiling as his breath fans over your lips after he laughs quietly. “Now will you kiss me already? I’m dyin’ over here.”

Your smile is immediate as your lips brush over his, pressing fully as your grins mingle in the more than close proximity you had. His lips were warm and soft, his kiss tasting of beer and a bit of that apple pie he indulged in at the diner and maybe a hint of a burger. When you pulled away you weren’t quite ready, he wasn’t quite ready, kissing him once, twice, three more times with a promise that that probably wasn’t the last of the sweeter than sweet kisses to be shared that night. There were bound to be at least a few more before he finally crashes after the day you’ve all had.

“Thanks for patchin’ me up,” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

You hum softly in response, smiling like a fool just as much as he was. You’d always take care of him and he’d always take care of you. Even if you’ve both got the attitudes to rival each other, there isn’t a single hunt that will go by where you wouldn’t look after one another.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey

[fanfics4all]

Just One Hug

Request: Yes / No  can u do a draco x fem!reader smut pls.. literally anything idc Anon

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 2085

Warnings: Smut!

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

Draco has been acting so odd lately. He’s been glaring at me the whole train ride home, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why! Normally he would glare at me because he was jealous of someone I was with or some other stupid reason, but I was currently just sitting with Pansy. 

“Pansy, do you have any idea what’s up with Draco?” I whispered. She looked over and shrugged. 

“I have no bloody idea. Maybe it’s because you hugged Harry goodbye?” She suggested and I shook my head. 

“There is no bloody way he’s jealous over a hug! Even if it is Harry.” I said as I thought back to a few hours ago. 

“Harry’s hands were pretty low.” Pansy said and I furrowed my brow. 

“Were they?” I asked and she nodded. 

“I swear I thought he was going to grab your bum.” She said with a laugh. 

“Are you being serious?” I asked shocked. 

“How the hell did you not feel it?” She asked and I shrugged. 

“Suppose I wasn’t paying attention.” I said and she shook her head. 

“You’re a bloody idiot Y/N.” She laughed and I sighed. 

“So Draco is jealous of a damn hug.” I shook my head. 

“A very steamy looking hug.” She said and I glared at her. 

“Oh Merlin, I’m going to have a lot to deal with this vacation.” I sighed and she smirked. 

“Maybe it’ll work out in your favor.” She wiggled her brows and I shoved her. 

“Pansy!” I shrieked and she laughed. 

When the train finally stopped Draco grabbed my hand and pulled me along with him. We silently walked through the crowd and were met by one of his house elves. 

“Master Draco, your parents are on a short trip and sent me to receive you and Miss Y/L/N.” He said. 

“Take us home, now.” He ordered and the House elf obayed. We were instantly transported to Malfoy Manor and Draco wasted no time taking me to his room. 

“Sit.” He ordered and I sat down on his bed. He walked into his bathroom without another word and I didn’t dare move. I could tell where this was going. Draco returned after a few moments completely naked, I simply looked up at him. 

“Are you ready to be a good girl?” He asked brazenly. 

“Yes Sir.” I answered softly. 

“Are you going to be my slut and let me use you however I’d like?” He asked and I had to bite back my smile, he always no matter what, asked for consent before any play time. 

“Yes Sir.” I answered. 

“Are you going to do everything I command?” He asked. 

“Yes Sir.” I answered. 

“Who owns you?” He asked, his voice getting deeper. 

“You, Sir.” I answered and he smirked. 

“Take off your top.” He ordered. His eyes never left mine as I removed my shirt. 

“And now your bra.” He ordered. I reached behind me to unclasp my bra and it dropped down my arms onto my lap. Involuntarily I crossed my arms over my now naked breasts. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you are, whore.” He said, now completely in character. 

“Put your arms down.” He ordered, the last words sounded a little deeper in his throat. 

“Yes Sir.” I said and dropped my arms. 

“Stand up.” He ordered and I did as I was told. 

“Take off your skirt.” He said. I unzipped my skirt and bent down to push it down, but his hand grasped my hair, making me gasp. 

“Oh your knees.” He growled. I was forced down, his erect cock in front of my face. 

“Suck it like you need it.” He said. I lean forward, my tongue slipping past my lips. He pulled me back by my hair causing me to whine. 

“You suck it, lick it, and want it, whore or there’s a punishment waiting for you. Do you understand?” He asked. 

“Yes Sir.” I answered breathlessly. My head is forced down onto his cock this time. His size fills my mouth and the tip touches the back of my throat. I moaned as I gagged and choked on him. 

“Like that, or I’ll do it for you.” He said huskily as he released my hair. I nodded and moved to take him fully into my throat. I alternated between sucking and licking, sometimes taking him fully into my mouth so I could choke on him. It was just what he liked. His hand reached down and held my head, pushing me further. Tears began falling down my face as my breath escaped me, but I still moaned. 

“You really love my cock in your mouth, don’t you? You just love sucking my dick. What a cum slut you are.” He said with a smirk. I felt like I couldn’t take anymore, but luckily his hand wrapped in my hair and pulled me until I was standing. 

“Look at what a mess you are. Do you enjoy being a mess?” He asked. I nodded, feeling his strong hand starting to grip my throat. After a moment his hand left my throat and moved to my breasts, grabbing them roughly. I gasped at his touch. His hands grabbed them and twisted my nipples, making me moan. The pain is intense and runs through my body, making me gasp in pleasure. 

“You like being used by me, don’t you?” He asked, calmly. 

“Yes Sir.” I answered, just barely managing to get the words out. 

“You like being my whore, don’t you?” He asked, his voice getting deeper. 

“Yes Sir.” I whined as he pulled me towards him by grabbing my ass, still in my panties. He moved his mouth towards my breast. He started biting, sucking, leaving his mark on my breasts. I moaned loudly and arched my back. My pussy was wet and my hips reached for his body. I wanted him no, needed him. I needed him inside me.

“Turn around, slut.” He whispered as he grabbed my breasts roughly and spun me around. His arms wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my body as his other hand reached into my panties. I felt his fingers slide into my wetness. I moaned and moved back against his hard cock. 

“You’ll cum when I tell you you can, and not until I say you can. Understand?” He said huskily into my ear. I moaned deeply. 

“Yes Sir.” I whisper. His fingers continue their exploration inside me, circling my clit and pinching it. I started losing all  my thoughts except the one command he gave me. No cumming. My body was in agony as his fingers continued grabbing my clit and sliding into my soaking wet pussy. After what felt like a lifetime, he pulled away and let go of me. I felt him pull my hands behind my back, then muttering a spell. Ropes circled my wrists, binding them tightly. He grabbed me by the throat from behind and I felt his cock pressing against me. 

“No cumming until I allow it.” He reminded me. I nodded slightly, his strong fingers still around my windpipe. 

“Get on the bed.” He said letting go of me. I kneeled forward and clumsily kneeled on the bed. He grabbed my arms and laid me on my side. 

“Look at you with your sluttiest panties on.” His voice was deep with desire and slight mocking. He muttered another spell and suddenly my panties were off. 

“Look at me.” He ordered. I turned my head towards him and found him watching me with one hand holding my ass and the other held my panties. 

“Open your mouth.” He said. I opened without a word and he shoved them into my mouth, enough to muffle my moans. 

“Are you going to take it like the good little slut you are?” He asked, his hand roughly spreading my legs. He moved one under him and pushed the other towards my chest, exposing my wet pussy to him. He looked at me and reached over, grabbing my hair roughly. 

“Yes Sir.” He said, moving my head up and down. I moaned loudly as he started to slowly slide into me. He pulled back and I looked up at him with wide eyes. 

“No cumming. Only I decide when you can cum.” He growled and I tried to show him how much I needed it. He slid into me again, I moaned and squirmed. I shoved my face into his blanket, fighting against my need for release. He smiled as he pounded into me hard. He pulled out until only his tip was teasing the inside of me. I moaned loudly, a desperate attempt to show him how badly I needed to cum. 

“Is this what you like, slut?” He asked, the tip of his cock just barely stroking the inside of me. 

“Please!” I moaned, but it was muffled by my panties. He pushed deeply inside me for two strokes and then teased my pussy with the tip again. Two more times and I’m completely needy. My muscles tensed as I tried desperately to push myself onto his cock. My pleas grew louder and I thrashed my head widely, fighting for release. He pushed deep inside me and I cried out in pleasure. With every stroke he reminded me that I can’t cum. 

“Please, please, please, please!” I begged with tears streaming down my face. 

“You’re such a good little whore.” He said with a smirk in his voice. 

“Tell me who you belong to.” He growled as he started fucking me harder and harder. 

“You! I belong to you Draco!” I nearly screamed, well as much as I could gagged. 

“You may cum now.” He said as his hands grabbed my ass and pulled me roughly to him with every stroke. I cried out as I came and my body loosened as I felt the waves of relief wash over my body. It took no time for my pussy to tighten around him as I came hard on his cock. He continued riding me hard as I came. Once I was finished I felt him pull out. He pulled me up by my hair, my body shaking from the intense orgasm. He pulled the panties from my mouth and replaced them with his cock. He moved my head rhythmically on his cock. I slurped and slid over his wet dick. He moves my head as he needs to and I felt his body tighten as his cum fills my mouth. His cum slides down my throat as his cock throbs against my swollen lips. I swallow every drop with a content sigh. He released my hair and I looked up at him. He bends down and captures my lips in a deep kiss. He mumbled a spell and the ropes disappeared from my wrists. 

“Stay here.” He said softly. I watched him walk into his bathroom and heard his shower starting. He walked back into the room and took me by the hand, leading me into the hot shower. The warm water feels so good on my tired and sore body. Once I finished I got out and changed into the nightgown Draco left me. I walked into the room to find him reading and smiled. He looked over at me with a smile and opened his arms. I gladly crawled into bed and cuddled into him. His arms wrapped around me and I sighed happily as I laid on his chest. 

“Did I hurt you?” He asked and I shook my head. 

“My wrists and head are a little sore, but nothing horrible.” I answered with a smile. He kissed my head and held me a little tighter. 

“I’m sorry love, but I honestly can’t stand seeing Potter putting his hands anywhere near you.” He growled and I rolled my eyes. 

“So Pansy was right.” I said and he looked at me confused. 

“She said you were jealous because apparently Harry was pretty much grabbing my bum.” I said and he started at me shocked. 

“Apparently? He was a hundred percent grabbing your arse!” He said and I sighed. 

“I think you two are exaggerating.” I said and he shook his head. 

“Are you trying to be punished again?” He asked, but with a playful tone. 

“Possibly.” I smirked playfully back at him. 

“It’s going to be a long week for you Y/N.” He smirked and I pecked his lips.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @accio-rogers​ @sambucky8​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @answer-the-sirens​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @vanessa-kom-skaikru​ @dracoswhvre​

[karasuno-volley]

HAIKYUU BOYS + TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK ( ft. tsukki, oikawa, atsumu )

pairing: haikyuu boys + gn!reader

tw: sickness. nothing serious, just some cold symptoms. timeskip spoilers maybe?

a/n: i've been sick for the past few days and just can’t seem to shake it, so i’ve written something a bit more in-the-moment. shout-out to the “always sick during cold months” gang. reblogs / likes welcome, no reposting !! love, volley.

     You don’t cry in front of Tsukishima. Or, if you do, it’s exceedingly rare. You two worked so well together because of your personalities. Cut and dry humor and soft teasing is more of your couple style. However, when Kei finally stops by your house after school, knowing you’ve been sick, he’s not quite sure what he’s doing there. Standing outside of your door, he mumbles how much of an idiot he is. You told him specifically not to show up, but now, outside with some soup and other feel-good snacks, Kei wasn’t sure whether to knock or text you. In the end, he decides to call you. That in itself was also rare-- you didn’t enjoy talking on your phone, so many of your conversations, if not happening in person, were played out through texts. Also rarely, you answer it on the first ring. You don’t say anything, because Tsukki already hung up after the first disheartening sniffle. Opening the door to your house, he knows that neither your parents or siblings will be home this early. He makes his way up to your room, barely knocking before pushing the door slightly ajar. Tsukki is greeted by the sight of you, head in hands, tears of frustration running down your face.

     “Are you okay?” He asks, already reaching for the nearby tissues. You wave him off, sniffling once before choking up a response. “I’m fine.” When Tsukki approaches with the box of tissues, you try to steal a few to clean yourself up, but he pulls away, instead drying your tears himself. He settles himself next to you, quiet and reflective as you slowly stop crying. “Did something happen?” He asks. You haven’t really seen this side to him. He must think someone made you cry, because his eyes are dark and angered. “No, I just… My head, it hurts, and…” Oh, God, how could you ever explain to him that you were crying because of a headache? But to your surprise, Kei only nods, adjusting so that he’s sitting against your pillows. You watch, confusion muddling your features. “Well?” He mumbles, reaching for your hand. “Come on. Get some rest.” When you finally give in and lay against his chest, he carefully places some of your blankets on top of the pair of you. Before you knew it, you were comfortably asleep, breathy sighs escaping your lips. Tsukki runs his hand through your hair a few times, but soon enough, he also succumbs to sleep.

     It felt like each time you flew to Argentina to visit him, you always caught some sort of cold. Tooru would joke for the first week of your visit that the only reason you flew out to visit him was so that he could baby you. But now, two weeks into your visit, this damn head cold had yet to disappear. Tooru quickly becomes more concerned as each day passes and you’re still coughing and complaining of aches and chills. When he sees you out of bed in the morning, dragging your feet along the floor, he immediately turns to you. “And what do you think you’re doing out of bed?” He smirks, one hand on his hip. You’ve known that stance since high school-- the one where he isn’t going to let you just slide right past him. You raise your eyes to his, sighing. When you do speak, it’s rough and dry, a product of coughing for most of the night. “Tooru, don’t you have practice? What are you doing here still?” You sniffle, and then come to your surroundings a bit better. Some soup was simmering on the stove, a tea kettle steaming close by. “I took the day off.” He says, as if that’s an obvious thing.

     You’ve never known him to miss anything when it came to volleyball, so you raise your eyebrows, doubtful. “Did you?” “Yes.” He looks to you, a stupid, goofy grin on his face. Then, his tone a bit more serious: “Now go back to bed. Or at least lay down on the couch. I’m making you some stuff to help you feel better.” He shuffles you away with a hand on your lower back, comforting and protective. You settle yourself in on the couch, whiny but not strong enough to do anything about it. You cross your arms until Tooru once again appears in front of you, cradling a cup of tea. He hands it to you gently, and you take a few sips. Then, there’s a spoon coming to your mouth, airplane-style. “Oikawa--,” you start, but before you can reprimand him for treating you like a child, he takes the opportunity to put the spoonful of soup into your mouth. You choke it down, half laughing. “What the hell, Oikawa? I’m not a child, I can feed myself.” He only laughs, handing you the bowl. “See? You’re feeling better already! And I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” You take in a few more sips of liquid, nearly tipping the bowl over when a coughing fit attacks. He immediately steals the soup away, and with an agility only learned through the sport he loves, carefully places it on the coffee table without spilling a single drop. Tooru turns back to you, a hand brushing your hair away from your forehead. “Maybe I need to take care of you better.” He hums, a kiss placed to your heated skin. A fever? A blush? You’re unsure, but Oikawa smiles all the same. Soon enough, you’re wrapped around him in a blanket, easily curled into his arms. He rests his chin on your head, and the day drags on, slowly, sweetly.

     He feels horribly about getting you sick. Really, he does. He tries to shower you in affection to make up for it, a kiss here, a hug there, but you’re having none of it, squirreling out of his grasp as best you can. “‘Tsumu! Stop! I don’t want you to get sick again.” You huff, retrieving a tissue to blow your nose. Your boyfriend frowns, watching you dejectedly. “But I wanna make up for it. I know it was me that got you like this.” He whines, and you lean back against the kitchen counter. “If you wanna make up for it, maybe you can take care of dinner tonight? I don’t care what it is-- it’s not like I can taste anything anyways.” You watch Atsumu think it over. He’s not much of a cook, but then his eyes light up. “I’ll call Osamu!” He runs off like a child, excited for the opportunity to take care of you for once, when it was often the other way around. It’s not like Atsumu would forget to shower or anything, but often you would greet him with breakfast, dinner. Remind him to eat during the day, replenish the energy he’d spent while playing volleyball.

     An hour later, there’s a knock on the door, and it’s Osamu, holding out a to-go bag. “It’s special, not on the menu stuff.” He nods, and Atsumu grins, thanking his brother ten times over. He offers him money, but Osamu simply waves him off, glancing behind him to view your coughing figure on the couch. “Maybe save it, ‘Tsumu? Buy her some cough medicine?” When Atsumu finally joins you on the couch, you’re greeted by some onigiri, a few different teas and soups, and a few desserts. “I told Osamu whatever he felt like you could need, and I guess he doesn’t know what you like.” He says, offering you up a small plate of food. You eat some, but you honestly didn’t have much of an appetite. Atsumu tries to force at least some liquids into you, but by the end of half an hour, you’re pushing him away slightly each time he tries to put another bowl or cup to your lips. Finally, it’s a spoon that catches your attention. You open your eyes, not realizing you had been half asleep. “C’mon, Y/N. Don’t push this one away, it’s medicine.” Atsumu offers it to you once more, and you take the spoonful of the pink liquid, choking it down with some water. When you lean back against the couch cushion, Atsumu is already there, as if anticipating your next action. Sometimes, your boyfriend is wildly perceptive. Your head lolls to his shoulder, too tired to really care about going to bed at all. You don’t wake as Atsumu carefully picks you up, head to his shoulder, before placing you lovingly in your shared bed, pulling the covers over you. Now, it’s his turn to take care of you.

[violetarks]

Hello!! I saw you were asking for fictif requests and was wondering if you haven't already, may I have some general fluffy headcanons for Felix? I hope you have a wonderful day💕

General Fluff Headcanons

Game: Fictif

Character: Felix Iskander Escellun

Most definitely craves physical contact

But its that kind of thing where he thinks the more he desires it and stares at you, the more of a chance the universe will tell you to walk over and hug him

It takes you a while until you turn your head, bc you feel like someone is burning holes into your head :))

But all you see is felix flipping the page of his book

Felix: "is something wrong?"

You: "do you... need something?"

Felix: "pardon? no, i dont need anything."

But you know better

He's blushing, embarrassed that you caught him or nearly did

And you can see it as he adjusts his glasses, clearing his throat

Anyway, you do hold his hand, hug and kiss him if he feels comfortable

You hold his hand through portals and in market, bc he doesnt want to be separated from you

Kissing him in public is fORBiddEN bc he'll get all flustered and not be able to function right, resulting in glaring your way and pouting

Hugging him is okay, as long as you dont see his face, so youre usually hugging from behind or digging your face into his shoulder

Speaking if which, it takes a while for him to get used to it all

The first time you grabbed his hand out of the blue, he jolted and squeezed your hand really hard, making you pull away

He apologised over and over again as anisa looked over your hand to check for any injuries (none)

Anisa only did that bc of how much felix was overreacting

He felt so bad that he avoided you for some time

After that, you walked up to him and held his hand again, just casually and this time he didnt freak out, just staring at you

Love :)))

Calls you darling or dear, bc he's old timey like that

But that only happens every once in a while

He'll be distracted or so relaxed that he doesn't notice, but everyone else does

First time, went like

Felix: "love, are you finished with my spellbook?"

You: "i... uh..."

Anisa: "what did you say, felix?"

Felix: "hm? I asked about the spellbook y/n borrowed from me."

Sage: "oh my goodness, you're so bold, felix. i supposed youre different behind closed doors, huh?"

He's so confused??

And you just hand him the book and dont talk about it until after dinner

He's blushing wildly before announcing his return to bed and hiding under the covers

His sarcasm is limited to sage and anisa, and only sometimes you

Bc he usually uses his sarcasm to show how annoyed he was

But with you, its more or a joking matter

Sage gets sad bc you get some privileges over him :((

You two do get up to some mischief tho

Like you both go ahead and make felix blush owo

But sage once convinced you to steal felix's giant coat, and you two ran around the building just playing around

Anisa and felix found you two on top of on of the highest balconies, trying to see if sage's spell for making objects levitate would work on just felix's jacket

Felix: "what do you think you two are doing???"

You, standing on top of the railing as Sage is about to push you off with only Felix's coat above your head like a blanket: "nothing"

Felix then cast a spell where sage becomes invisible to you and you cohldnt hear him at all

Anisa told felix to rake the spell away since sage was weeping in the corner

Sleepy felix :(((

He's at his desk and doing stuff when he falls asleep

You either drag him to bed or pull up a chair to sleep next to him

Although he is a night owl, he goes three days without sleeping and passes out for nine hours

Felix likes to sit next to you at dinner

Sometimes you use your magic to prank or tease felix

But it really never works since he's taught you all you know

He'll be looking for his spellbook and then sigh,, looking your way and just raising a brow

Felix: "drop it this instant, my darling."

You: "fiiiiiine..."

The book drops from the ceiling, right into his palm

Another thing

Felix feels the need to return the gestures

So he will kiss you on your forehead when you get giddy for completing your spell just right

And then look away hastily

Or he'll grab your hand and pull you away when youre about to bump into something

And he just wont let go

Sleeps next to you and once he knows youre asleep for sure, he kisses your palm or kisses your cheek

There are times when he doesnt know what to do

Like when youre upset

Maybe you felt extra sad this morning, or you were feeling homesick, or just not that great at all

Felix does not know how to deal with other people's emotions

The best you'll get is

Felix: "are you feeling well, my dear?"

You: "oh, yeah. i'm fine, felix."

Felix: "alright."

And he's screaming inside bc he cant ask you again now, he's embarrassed to

He knows for sure that something is dead wrong when you go to bed

Maybe your grip on him is too loose, or youre not holding him at all

And he's just thinking about what he can do

Sometimes you start crying and felix cant take it anymore

He turns around and digs his face into your shoulder, arms around your torso and pulling you close

He's holding you so tight that he thinks you'll break if he lets go

You slowly hug him back, crying into his hair

Felix: "... i dont know of what has happened, but you are free to tell me whatever it is that is bothering you, my darling. i... i can help, in some way..."

You: "thanks, felix. i appreciate it."

N e way :))

The most common thing to happen between you two is probably for felix to brush against you a lot

He's trying not to be suspicious so you dont see it, but its when he doesnt watch where he's going that he messed up

Felix, hitting his hip on the corner of the table in an attempt to step closer to you: "my lord, oh my goodness..."

You: "felix, you can just ask me to stand next to you."

Felix: "... i dont know what youre talking about."

Out of everyone in the group, he probably trusts anisa to take care of you the best when he's away

Sage and you almost always get into trouble and he can not handle the energy you two bring out to open

Anisa keeps you contained and helps felix feel at ease bc she can definitely beat a bitch or two

Felix likes having your head on his lap when he's reading

Its one of the only ways you can be close together like this once someone is busy

He's running fingers through your hair and up and down your arm, other hand holding his book as he reads through it

Felix: "are you already asleep, my darling?"

When you don't respond

Felix: "I love you..."

...

You: "I love you too, Felix"

Felix: "i knew it"

You play with his glasses sometimes

He'll be looking for another book or something and you steal his glasses from his desk and just play with them

Or if they're around his neck and you're sitting in front of him

You'll tug him from the chain of his glasses to give him a quick kiss

He burns red and then pulls his glasses on to continue reading

Wrapping your arms around his torso makes him putty in your hands

He immediately leans into you

Kiss him when he's annoyed

Just a quick smooch on his cheek

He' calm down and just dig his head into his hands

You're so warm and so kind to him

He feels like he doesnt deserve it but you assure him that he does, he deserves the world :))

[asingleheart-shapedbraincell]

Obey Me! Brothers as Werewolves

Lucifer

Gonna remind everyone now that alpha theory was disproven and actual wolf packs act as family units

That being said - alpha, clearly

Not because he's the strongest (though he is) but because he's the most nurturing

Considers all his brothers (and you) to be his responsibility and under his care

Second biggest in wolf form (next to Beel)

Thick, dark fur, great in winter but in summer hates how hot and itchy it gets. Shedding his winter coat is an EVENT. Scratch him and fluff just falls out by the handfuls

Hates how patchy he looks when shedding, very grumpy when its happening

Refuses to ask for help when it comes to brushing out his coat, but if you're somewhere private he is very happy to just lie there whilst you brush out all that itchy loose fluff

Also just very nice to pet in general, but rarely let's you outside of softer moments :/

Not outwardly aggressive - when correcting his brothers behaviour hes more likely to just growl softly instead of going for a full snarl. If he actually shows his teeth then things are serious and you might want to have some final words with your jugular

Isn't very affectionate in public, but is very protective - wherever you go, if hes in his wolf form hes by your side, or at the very least is keeping an eye on you

If anyone he doesnt like the look of approaches you, he calmly places himself between the two of you. If that isn't enough trust me, a staring contest with those eyes isn't going to last long

Mammon

Pretty boyyo

White fur thats not nearly as thick and long as Lucifer's but still has a substantial ruff

Uses his wolf form to run away from loan sharks a lot (hey, four legs are quicker than two, right?)

Also loves the attention he gets from girls - he knows he's handsome in both forms, but girls say it more when they think he can't understand them

Sheds the least of all the brothers, but since his coat is so pale his hair is more noticeable so he still gets flack for getting it on the furniture

Hes still needy as a wolf

You know those videos of huskies throwing massive tantrums??? Yeah, hes on that level, his dramatics only kept in check by his tsundere nature

Loves it when you pet him. He'll pretend he doesn't, but the second you stop hes gonna start whining

(Doesn't) hate it when you baby-talk him

Not generally aggressive within the pack, just prickly - maybe a growl or a huff here and there, maybe a snap if someone's really pushing his buttons

He is possessive tho

Will physically put himself between you and other people to get your attention. If the other person doesn't take the hint, then he's showing teeth

If you don't let him sleep in the room with you, you'll open your bedroom door the next day and find him curled up outside

Definitely wants to put his head in you lap and have you stroke him til he falls asleep but refuses to admit it

Gets jealous if you're petting another brother at the same time as him and will throw a tantrum and try to shove them away from you

He was your first pact, which means he has first dibs on all cuddles!!!! What do ya mean that's not a rule??? Thats totally a rule!!!!

Leviathan

'Hes not dog friendly'

Spends very little time in his wolf form (its hard to game without opposable thumbs)

Does sometimes shift out of shock tho

Like, if you kiss him unexpectedly, poof! There's a wolf infront of you, who's blushing lobster red underneath all that fur

Will hide under the bed

✨separation anxiety✨

Glued to your side in wolf form, because he doesn't like or trust other people or wolves (and definitely NOT because he likes your company and wants you to maybe pet him 😳😳😳)

Kinda likes that you can't see him blushing when he's in wolf form

Will lie next to you and wait for you to initiate pets. Especially loves it when you scratch him behind the ears.

Because hes a shut in and doesn't spend a lot of time in his wolf form, his fur is the messiest - patchy winter coat, small tangles, really just needs a good brush (but only if you do it)

Not really aggressive to others, just not friendly. Maybe a growl every now and then, and sometimes a tantrum gets thrown, but thats it

Satan

Still quite cat-like

Hes not going to be throwing any loud husky-like tantrums

Doesn't like that he can't read books in wolf form (difficult to turn pages without hands) but does enjoy the emotional release for his anger when it comes to hunting Hell-Hinds and other demonic deer.

Fur is short, sleek, a lovely pale gold and well-kept (when it isn't bloodied by his most recent hunt)

When he isn't hunting he does enjoy stretching out infront of a fireplace and warming his fur

Is unopposed to being brushed when he's in the position, and may even allow you to pet his head gently, but thats it

Might lay his head in your lap tho

Sheds the least of all the brothers

Still tries to control his temper in wolf form, but you better hope he maintains it because those teeth can issue you a one-way ticket to the afterlife

Sometimes snaps or growls at his brothers, but is more likely to just leave the room if they're annoying him. If they're in his room then they're getting chased out with their tail between their legs (except Lucifer who wouldn't invade his space like that)

Asmodeus

Who's a pretty boy???? Who is???

Its him!!!!!!

Friendliest of all the brothers, if only because he loves the attention people give him

Will walk up to you and just wait for the compliments (not unusual, tbf)

Doesn't love the hunting side of being a wolf - mud???? Blood??? Sweat???? In MY fur??????? I don't think so

Only really partakes when necessary, or if he's decided to go for a roguishly disheveled look that day

Uses his wolf form as an excuse to get affection that would be less appropriate in his human form - belly rubs, giving you puppy-dog eyes to be let up onto the bed, getting you to give him a bath - stuff that Lucifer would be more likely to reprimand him for when he wasn't a wolf

Softest fur of all the brothers - sleek, silky and always throughly brushed out, even when shedding. Plus, loves being pet so long as you don't mess up his fur too much.

Beelzebub

GOOD BOY GRANDE

The biggest of boys, the goodest of boys

Loves being in wolf form because its even easier to get food from people

You think his puppy eyes are bad NOW??? WAIT UNTIL HES AN ACTUAL PUPPY

Very comfortable in his wolf form, spends the most time out of all the brothers like that

Has absolutely no shame begging food from people's tables, no matter where you are. Also has no shame stealing food from people's tables, but will whine and act ashamed if they yell at him

Dont yell at him. He's baby.

Incredibly fluffy red coat, that and the amount of muscle underneath makes him the biggest wolf in the pack by far

Big doggy grin that could melt any heart

So tall that when he wags his tail you have to make sure it doesn't sweep everything off the table

Also loves being pet and doesn't mind baby talk at all. You can treat him like an actual dog and he won't get mad - he'll play fetch with you if you really want, but as a warning, the stick might end up more than a little chewed

Will, however, also go digging through people's bins

Also kinda slobbery

Is pretty much never aggressive, but then again, who would be stupid enough to provoke something with that much muscle and teeth???

If you scritch the right spot behind his ear his leg kicks out. He's not ashamed. More scritches pls.

But his favourite spot for scritches are under his jaw and his chin

WHAT ARE YOU EATING??? HEY!!! NO!!!! WHAT IS IN YOUR MOUTH???? BEEL YOU CANT EAT CHOCOLATE WHEN YOURE A WOLF!!!!! DROP IT!!!! DROP IT!!!!

Belphagor

Smallest of the wolves

Enjoys sleeping in wolf form because the fur adds an extra level of cosiness

You will just find him curled up in a nest of pillows with his nose tucked under his tail. Or flopped across a sofa, until Lucifer yells at him to get off the furniture

Has that intense stink-eye that some huskies are capable of.

Sometimes forgets to shift, or can't be bothered and will just wander around attempting to do people things until he realises hes in the wrong body - you ever gone to brush your teeth and then realised you need hands for that???

Definitely walks around holding his cow pillow in his mouth, or sometimes a plushie

Or dragging a blanket

Honestly its very cute

Does enjoy being gently pet as his drifts of to sleep

Which is good because his fur is always mussed up from his last nap

But if he falls asleep on you???? You're not moving. Sorry not sorry. This is your life now.

Little wolf bleps when he sleeps ➖👅➖

Has definitely vomited in Lucifers shoes as a wolf at least once, simply out of spite

Thick fur, but not long. Sheds a lot, but his fur is so dark you don't see it as much.

Lets out little muffled woofs and yips when he sleeps, and twitches when he dreams of running

If you scratch the right spot when hes sleeping, his leg will kick out the same as Beels, but if you do it when hes awake he'll get embarrassed and either leave, or give you a warning nip

The most aggressive with other pack members - hes just kinda bratty. Huffs a lot and is quick to give out little nips when he isn't happy, though he isn't much of a growler and never goes farther than that

Won't play fetch like Beel, but if you're REALLY lucky, he'll bring you a plushie of your own when he joins you for a nap

(Also, im relatively new to the game, I know there was a vampire event, if there was a werewolf event im unaware of it atm, but this is just for fun anyway)

[sugako]

c+k: hinata

hinata x f!reader

sum: a long day of many dates with hinata 

cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, lots of fluff, mentions of food/eating, fingering, slight exhibition, outside, implied sex, established relationship, l-bombs

wc: 2.2k

a/n: am i posting this 30 minutes before the end of valentines for c+k..yes,,

February 14th with Hinata was always a full day, so it came as no surprise when he shook you from your sleep early in the morning. Even though it was a yearly event you never grew tired of the special moments created each time. You had barely stirred an hour or so ago when he had silently risen to go for a run before the long day ahead. 

“Wake up, cutie, I made breakfast.” He kept his voice low to not disturb you too much, but the excitement was still evident in his tone. Sleep pushed aside you used his strong arms to help yourself sit up and stretch before slinking out of bed. 

“Thanks, Shoyo, I love you.” You clear the sleep from your throat and wrap your arms around him. With your head resting against his chest, still trying to blink the sleep away, you can’t see how big he’s beaming. He holds you close, rubbing away the tension and stress from your back and shoulders. After a long, quiet moment, you pull away and kiss him tightly on the cheek. “Let me brush my teeth and I’ll out, mmkay?” 

“Of course! Just hurry so it doesn’t get cold.” He urges with those perfect puppy dog eyes. You wouldn’t dream of dawdling around or taking your sweet time when you had such a perfect, hardworking boyfriend who obviously put far more effort into everything he did than maybe he should.

He pushed himself in all aspects of life. You hadn’t known him in high school, but he told you stories of his time playing volleyball with the Karasuno team, the first time they lost, all the times they won, and when they went to Nationals his first year. Some of the stories broke your heart to hear. He was hard on himself, something he covered up by his bright demeanor, but you always saw it. 

Sometimes your relationship was just as much of an effort for him as volleyball. He went over the top, pushing himself just a little too far, but it always worked out in the end even if he did stress you out every now and then. So you brushed your teeth a little too quickly and rushed out to the tiny dining area you shared. 

The small spread of your favorite breakfast food, most shaped or cut into messy little hearts. He was sitting, a little impatiently, absentmindedly typing on his phone. A warm smile lit up your face as you made your way over and sat across from him. Before you could even ask who he might be talking to, he threw his phone face down and spoke up. 

“Kenma.” He answered your unspoken question. “Was asking him about something I wasn’t sure about.” 

You nodded, taking a sip of the drink he had set out for you. The two of you dug in, mostly in silence until Hinata spoke up again.

“After this, we can go to the park to walk. If you want.” He half-asked and half-said through a bite.

“That sounds perfect, but can I give you my present now if we’re going out?” You stepped away from your finished plate before he had a chance to answer. 

“Yeah, sure!” He nodded quickly. 

You nearly jogged to the guest room where you had hidden his present, hoping that maybe this time he hadn’t snooped. Every year it was more of a game to hide his presents than it was to pick something out for him. This time when you found his gift the careful stack of odds and ends you had placed around it was completely intact and not a thing was out of place. Excited to see him genuinely surprised this time, you quickly shuffled back down the hallway.

You plopped beside him on the floor and handed over the medium-sized box, wrapped up as best you could in your favorite paper. 

“I forgot a card,” you explained as he ripped the paper back, “but I hope that’s okay.” 

His smile nearly dropped when he saw the outside. 

“These...How did you?” He sputtered out, throwing the paper to the side and tearing open the slick cardboard of the shoe box. Under the soft light of your house, his pretty, amber eyes grew glassy and his smile twisted up. “These are sold out everywhere and they were so limited. I don’t… I don’t understand…” 

They were pretty simple sneakers even if they were incredibly nice. He had picked them out forever ago, but they sold out in minutes and after that were near impossible to find. Thankfully, you had been one of the people who got them in the brief seconds they were available. According to the description, they were everything he was looking for in terms of shape, support, function, and even style. 

“I got lucky. Ordered them the second they dropped because I knew you wanted them and it was too late for Christmas and I couldn’t wait for your birthday.” You watched as he pulled them out and carefully inspected every little detail. 

“They’re perfect. They’re so perfect. I could have never imagined… I mean just growing up…” he cut himself off with a small shake of the head and threw himself around you before he got any more choked up. Hot tears stained the shoulder of your shirt as he let himself silently cry it out. He took a big, deep sigh to catch his breath and held you back at an arm’s length to admire you for a moment before pressing a long deep kiss against your lips. Cheeks still damp brushed against yours sweetly. “Thank you. I love you.” He finally said when you pulled away, brushing a stray tear from his cheekbone. 

“You’re welcome, I love you too.” 

...

The walk in the park was short and sweet. Really, he was just taking you to a little spot hidden by some trees and bushes so he could lay out a couple of thick blankets. It hadn’t been quite long enough since your breakfast for a full lunch for you at least, but he was happy to dig into the array of snacks he had packed.

After a second, much longer and slower walk around you found yourself in front of a movie theater. The only thing not sold out was a rough-looking action movie, but it didn’t matter much to either of you. Sitting through the movie, Hinata started stealing little kisses every now and then. Although he was the one who planned these long dates, he found himself wanting to just go home and growing impatient about halfway through every time.

His muscled hand kneaded and toyed with the soft flesh on the inside of your thigh. It wasn’t too distracting at first, but you practically choked on your water when his pinky slipped up and brushed against your clothed center. With a small smirk, he pulled his hand away and opted to lace his fingers with yours instead to hold himself back. 

As soon as the movie ended he rushed you out of the theater and back toward your home. You struggled to keep up with his pace, nearly tripping over your own feet. 

“Sho!” You giggled as he dragged you along behind him. “Sho, slow down, why are we running?!” 

“You’ll see! We have to be on time though.” He grinned back at you, not giving up his speed. 

When you got home he dragged you into the bedroom and made you cover your eyes - asking multiple times and, you assumed, checking to see if you were peeking. 

“Really, I promise. My eyes are closed.” You whined as he helped you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Okay, okay. One second!”

Staying true to your word, you kept your lids shut, listening to him shuffle across the room. You hummed in confusion when you heard him fiddling in the closet before he headed back to stand before you. In your head, you carded through every possibility, but even though what happened next made so much sense, you were still a little surprised.

“Now open!” He commanded. You moved your hands away and blinked your eyes open, smiling as soon as you saw what he had displayed in his hands. 

“Shoyo…” Held up for you was the prettiest dress you had seen. It was far more expensive looking and far more eloquent than anything you currently own. “Thanks,” you said at last taking the slick fabric into your arms, “but why? I don’t even know where I would wear this.”

He rocked on his heels, trying to hold back a grin. “We had to hurry home because I got reservations at a really nice restaurant. I hope you like it, I didn’t think you had anything to wear, and I wanted to actually get you something real too so it felt right.” 

“How long until we need to leave?” You’re already shucking off your clothes to throw the dress on. Hinata tried to tear his eyes away from your bare chest and body in order to answer you, but it felt impossible. When you shimmied your panties off under the dress, going to the dresser to get different ones, he nearly came undone. “Shoyo?” You asked again, sitting down at the vanity and rushing to get ready. 

“Oh, yeah, uh like twenty minutes.” He managed to squeeze the words out, heading toward the closet for his suit. 

...

You thought dinner might be the end of the night, but you were mistaken. Hinata insisted that he drive home even though you had driven to the restaurant. As soon as he turned out of the parking lot you realized you weren’t going home. 

“Where are we going?” You asked a couple of minutes into the ride. 

“You’ll see, it’s not far. Just to the top of the hill.” 

“The overlook?!” You pipe up excitedly. He knows you love to sit out and look at the stars, especially with him by your side. 

“No, maybe, stop guessing.” He grumbles, putting a hand over your knee. 

The feeling of his rough fingers through the soft fabric of your dress, rubbing little circles into your skin, distracts you from ruining his last portion of the day. A little tired from the day, the two of you remain mostly silent for the rest of the short ride up the hill. 

It was exactly as you expected. Thankfully, the sky was completely clear, and away from the bright city lights, it was much easier to see the stars up here. They glistened and sparkled like little gems against black velvet. Hinata laid out the same blankets from earlier, grabbing out a third to combat the cool night air. 

You snuggled next to him under the plush quilt, pushing your cold fingers under his neatly tucked dress shirt and against his warm, toned stomach. He squirmed under your touch but didn’t make any move to make you stop. 

“C’mere if you’re cold.” He mumbled out, pulling you closer. His hands settled under the swell of your breasts, distracting you from the pretty constellations. Fingers tapped against your skin and fiddled with the fabric of the dress until your breathing was uneven. No one was around, but you couldn’t help feeling a little ashamed that you were panting in his arms out in the open. 

“Sho…” You sigh when he hikes up the skirt around your hips and slides a finger against your clothed slit. 

“You’re really wet, what were you thinking about, hmm?” He groaned, pushing the thin fabric to the side. 

You let out a little gasp when you heard the quiet squelch from between your thighs. The roughened tips of his fingers slipped up and down, spreading the slick around your lips. Not bothering to tease you, he focused in on your clit. Along with putting an amazing amount of effort into the romantic part of your relationship, he did the same with the sexual parts as well. It wasn’t really a bother that he wanted to ‘practice’ that part so much. 

Keening against him, you felt yourself growing closer to the edge. Your pants were coming out louder and whinier now, echoing in the silent night. He eased two fingers in, making sure to press his palm against your throbbing bud. They expertly curled and pumped inside of you, hitting every spot you couldn’t quite get on your own. 

“Come on,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, “cum on my fingers.” 

His words were the last thing you needed to push you just over. When your cunt clenched and pulsed around his fingers he accidentally let out a low moan, imagining how your pretty pussy would feel around his cock. Hips twitched against his hand as he slowed his motions, easing you off your high. You called out his name in a hoarse whisper, grabbing onto the fabric of his pants to steady yourself. 

As you caught your breath, he helped to smooth your dress back out. You rolled over to press a messy kiss against his neck and loosely hold him. 

“Did you have a good time?” He asked quietly, sitting up and helping you with him. The question was sincere, but you could tell he couldn’t wait to get home to finish what you had started. 

“Amazing.” 

[onisamu]

couch surfing

toxic Hanamaki Takahiro x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

18+, all characters university aged

warnings: dubcon, stealthing, toxic/manipulative behavior

It wasn’t uncommon for you to walk in your living room to find Makki, nearly always stinking of alcohol or weed, crashing on your couch. You’d complained countless times to your landlord about your broken window, but he always brushed you off since you were on the fourth floor. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you shoved his arm from covering his face. “What are you doing?”

“Mm,” Makki blindly tried pushing your hand away. 

“Makki,” you snapped, ripping the pillow from under his head. 

The back of his skull hit the hard armrest of your couch with a thump. “Fuck, Y/n! What does it look like I’m doing.”

“It looks like you broke into my apartment for the third time this week, why?” You dropped the pillow on his face. 

“Mattsun has another girl over,” he yawned and positioned the pillow back under his head. 

“If you keep doing this I’m gonna start making you pay rent,” you scowled, moving to the kitchen to continue your morning routine. “And you better be fucking gone by the time I’m back from work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved you off. 

“I’m serious, Makki.” 

“Sure you are,” he mumbled, rolling over. “Turn off the lights.”

You flipped two more on. 

“Hey, what kinda pizza do you like?” He asked. 

You poured two cups of coffee before answering. “Why?”

“Just answer the question.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Veggie, now sit up.”

“Aww, you remember how I like my coffee,” Makki crooned, grinning up at you. 

You stuck your tongue out at him, kicking his feet. “Move.”

“Fine, fine,” he sat up slowly, pink hair sticking every which way. 

Cute, you thought momentarily, before frowning and shaking your head. Scumbag. Makki was a useless, mooching scumbag who flitted in and out of your life, sleeping with you whenever he needed a place to stay. 

“I’m serious about being gone.” 

“You always are,” he smirked into his cup. “Can I at least shower before I leave?”

It was tempting to tell him no, just to have some control over the situation, but you were always weak when it came it him. He knew it, just like he knew your window would always be broken. 

“Yeah,” you sighed. 

__

Predictably, he was still sitting on your couch munching on a slice of pizza. 

“You’re back!” He sat up. “I got veggie.”

“And you were also supposed to be gone.”

“Aww, don’t be like that. Mattsun still has that loud ass chick over,” he held out a slice temptingly. 

“Maybe you should try setting boundaries with him. Since, you know, you both fuckin’ live there.” You dropped your bags and accepted the slice. 

“He’d do the same thing if I brought a girl home,” Makki shrugged, eyeing you shamelessly from where he lounged comfortably. “I like that little business woman look. You look good in a pencil skirt.”

You shot him a dirty look. “Don’t.”

“Whaaat?” He slid closer to you, now bumping shoulders. “C’mon, you always end up sayin’ yes. Isn’t it exhausting puttin’ this front every time?”

“I’m serious, Makki. Finish your food and leave.”

“Sure,” he smiled, sipping his beer. “How was work?”

You debated answering for a long moment. He knew exactly what he was doing. Buying you food, acting like he cared, all just to get in your pants. He was good at it, and sometimes you’d let yourself believe he actually cared in his own fucked up way. 

“Fine.”

“Your boss still being an asshole?” Makki opened another beer and offered it to you. 

You accepted it, taking a large sip. “Always.”

“Been sayin’ you just need to quit,” he frowned sympathetically. 

“And do what? Smoke weed, couch surf, and drink beer all day?” 

“Ohh, so mean,” he pouted. “At least my soul isn’t getting sucked out by a stagnant nine to five.”

Not bothering to respond, you finished off your beer and stood up. “Whatever. I’m going to shower.”

Makki watched you leave, his irritating little smile practically mocking you. 

He was poking around your room when you walked in, just a towel wrapped around your body. 

“If you’re looking for cash to steal, I don’t carry it anymore,” you said, picking out a large shirt and panties.

“Do you really think I’m still a shitty little teenager?” He frowned. 

“Yes,” your eyes dropped to his ‘Thrasher’ t-shirt. 

He rolled his eyes. “Borrowed it from Mattsun.” 

“Sure,” you started to leave. 

“Hey,” he caught you by your bicep. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“So?” You glared, shaking his arm off. 

“Can you stop being a bitch for five fucking seconds?” He asked. 

“I’m being a bitch?” You asked, then laughed. “I’m sorry, but if me setting boundaries with you is bitchy, you’ve clearly never had someone tell you no.”

“Jesus Christ,” he grabbed your arm again, this time hauling you over to the bed. “I think you just like pissing me off.”

“Hey- stop,” you stumbled into the edge of the bed. 

Makki’s lips met yours in a bruising kiss, his fingers yanking your towel down. “Stop being obstinate.”

Rough fingers caressed your ribs, any protests disappearing with your soft shivers. “Makki.”

“Shut up,” he crushed his lips to yours and pushed you back until you were flat on your back. 

“Wait,” you pushed on his shoulders. “Condom?”

He held up a foil packet, tossing it next to you. “Open it.”

While you fiddled with the wrapper, he quickly stripped naked. Impatient, he snatched it from you and ripped it open, putting it on in one fluid motion. You took the brief break to reluctantly admire him. His broad shoulders tapered into a narrow waist, and lean muscles flickered in movement under his pale skin. His cock was long and flushed, not as thick as some but enough to need foreplay. 

“You’re cuter when you’re quiet,” he grinned, two fingers pushing at your entrance. 

You squirmed at the slight burn as he pressed in. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You like it,” he curved his fingers, cooing when you moaned. “Yeahh you do.”

“I’ll kick you out,” you said, an obviously empty threat.

He ignored you in favor of pressing his thumb to your clit as he scissored his fingers. You grabbed at his shoulders, biting back moans. 

“Don’t do that,” he pulled your lip from your teeth. “Wanna hear you.”

He pushed deep, eyes on your face as he found you sweet spot with ease. Within minutes you were dripping down his knuckles, teetering on the edge of an orgasm that he purposefully kept just out of reach. 

“I hate you,” you moaned, tugging at his hair. “Fuck me already.”

“Aww, whats that? Are you sure you don’t want me to leave still?” He pulled back teasingly. 

You glared up at him, grabbing the back of his neck to stop him. 

“Say it,” he tilted his chin up. “Say ‘please fuck me, Hiro.’”

His thumb pushed expectantly at your lips. 

You swallowed down the last bit of your pride. “Please fuck me, Hiro.”

A sickeningly satisfied grin spread across his face. “Aww, so needy. I guess I will.”

“Hey, you’re the one who came here beg-“

Makki easily flipped you onto your stomach, slapping your thigh sharply. He nudged your legs apart with a knee before climbing up the bed and straddling your thighs. He dragged the tip of his cock through your slick, watching you closely. You were too desperate, wiggling your thighs needfully, to notice he slipped off the condom and tossed it under the bed. He was pretty sure you were on birth control anyways. He pressed in slowly, grunting as you eagerly clenched around him. 

Reaching up, he placed his hand on the back of your neck for leverage, enjoying the way your face looked smushed into the covers. He didn’t bother letting you adjust, fucking you so roughly your bed frame knocked into the wall. Without a doubt you’d be receiving another noise complaint.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he hissed, leaning down to bite your shoulder. “Acting like you don’t want me.”

“H-hiro,” you moaned into the sheets, drool smeared messily around your lips. You arched your back into his thrusts, eyes rolling as his tip relentlessly met your cervix with sharp bursts of pain. 

He littered your shoulders and neck with dark hickeys, and yours hips with marks from his fingers. He wanted you to think of him every time you saw them. He liked stringing you along like this, indulged in the hopeful looks you’d send him when he was occasionally nice to you. It was cute, in some fucked up way he didn’t feel like lingering on.

He could tell you were close, your body wracked with twitches. Normally he wouldn’t care whether or not you came, but he’d recently become addicted to the way you would tighten up around him and how your walls would flutter periodically for a while after. He reached under you, two fingers rubbing your clit arrhythmically until you squealed and creamed on his cock. 

“That’s it, yes,” he grunted, watching your ass jiggle each time his hips met yours with slippery noises. 

He drooped himself over your back as he came, grinding against your ass until his cock was achy with overstimulation. He sighed belatedly, kissing your shoulder.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

He barely caught your elbow from smashing his nose. “Hey, hey! What the fuck?”

“You better have plan b money,” you kicked at him until he rolled off of you. “You fucking prick!”

 “Yeah, of course I do,” he tugged a blanket loose, pushing you down to wrap you up in it so you couldn’t hit him. “Fucking calm down.”

You glowered at him, relaxing warily against his chest. Despite being a raging douchebag, he did give good post sex cuddles. 

[cashmeremars]

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 || 𝐬.𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shawn mendes x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you spend a lazy sunday with shawn in your shared penthouse

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, kind of slow-burnish, shawn making you breakfast, slow dancing at midnight, shawn being cute

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k+

𝐚/𝐧: this was written like 2 whole years ago lmaooo

A heavy loom of sleep clouded the room as soft breaths left the unwavering bodies laid side by side, unaware of their surroundings as they succumbed to slumber. The rain poured relentlessly outside, occasionally laying kisses on the window pane as the couple slipped further into their sleep. As the morning sky was painted a soft grey, and the sheer curtains danced with the wind, the bustling traffic had begun to calm itself. A blaring honk in the distance had caused a body to stir under the warm blanket. 

You shifted towards the edge of the bed, sitting cross legged as the blanket lay faint on your body, goosebumps formed as streams of wind kissed your exposed skin. With the window sat right in front of the bed, you slowly pawed at the curtains before pushing them open. You squinted softly as dim light filtered through the room. You leaned in further as you peered out of the window and watched cars driving through the narrow roads. Sighing sleepily as you reached a hand towards the window, shivering slightly as you allowed the cold air of the glass to settle on your palm. As you continued to gaze out of the window, a body shifted from behind. A deep sigh was heard as the blankets continued to shift until a warm body found its way right behind you.

“Good morning, Shawn” you whispered softly as a subtle smile graced your face. He didn’t reply as he slowly wrapped an arm around your waist, giving it a firm squeeze before letting his legs fall off the side of the bed, each leg on either side of yours. He mumbled a small ‘Good Morning’ as he nosed at your neck while his other hand began twirling a piece of your hair. You slowly sunk further into his chest with a soft huff.

“Are you doing anything today?” Shawn breathed out softly against your neck as you wrapped your arms around his arm that was currently holding your waist.

“No. Why?” You asked quietly as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Just wanna stay in bed with you” He smiled softly as you turned your head towards him, eyes dripped with honey as you gazed at each other.

“I’d want nothing more” you smiled before turning your head back towards the busy street.

“How long have you been awake for?” Shawn asked as he grabbed the blanket from behind him and wrapped your bodies around it, trapping you further in his warmth.

“Not that long. I’ve just been watching the rain” You answered as your fingers began to dance on the window pane.

“What’s up with you and your weird fascination with the rain?” Shawn chuckled quietly as he started to trail subtle kisses along the expanse of your neck.

“It’s just peaceful.” Shawn hummed quietly at your answer. Squinting slightly as he watched the rain hitting the buildings right across your view.

“Speaking of rain, I should shower” you shifted to get up from the bed and mess of blankets.

“Rain and shower water are two completely different things” Shawn whispered as his grip on your waist tightened slightly while he nuzzled his head further into your neck.

“Well, they both have to do with water, don’t they?” you quipped

“I guess” Shawn chuckled quietly as he continued to play with your hair. You once again moved to push Shawn’s arms off of your waist, but you were met with a whine and a firm squeeze to your waist.

“Shawn.” You huffed sternly, turning to look at him. His face held a soft pout and you had remained silent as your eyes met his. There was always something so beautiful about the way Shawn looked in the morning. His cheeks flushed and dusted with faint hues of pink, and his hair had always fluttered right above his eyes. Shawn in the mornings was so gorgeous and ethereal as he basked in somnolence. 

“Let go of me, please” you returned a pout as Shawn sighed. He placed a soft kiss right under your jaw before releasing his arms from your hair and waist, allowing you to make your way out of the bed and towards the bathroom. 

As you stood up from the bed, you turned your body towards Shawn and placed your hands gently on his shoulders. “Have I ever told you how cute you look in the mornings?” you gently rubbed at his bare shoulders with a tame smile.

He chuckled as his cheeks flushed pink before turning his head and placing a kiss on your hand resting on his shoulder. “Nothing could compare to how angelic you are in the mornings” He winked before you walked away. Shawn watched as you padded your feet on the floor, rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms. He smiled to himself before lying back down on the bed with a huff. The light from the bathroom dimly lit the bedroom as Shawn stared up at the ceiling. The cars gliding through puddles and the pittering of the rain soothed him back into a light sleep. 

***

Your bones shook with a shiver as the bottoms of your feet padded against the frigid living room floor. You walked through the kitchen threshold with a smile as you spotted Shawn preparing breakfast for the two of you. 

“How was your shower?” Shawn asked as he gazed up at you slowly with a slight smile.

“It was fine, like any other shower. What are you making?” you asked as you finally reached the boy, wrapping your arms gently around his waist, you slowly leaned your head on his back.

“Omelettes, pancakes, fruits. Nothing special” Shawn shrugged as he flipped some pancakes hastily. You laughed quietly as Shawn nearly dropped a pancake, and he nudged you softly in retaliation.

“Well, I really appreciate you doing this. You’re ridiculously sweet” you spoke gently before placing a soft kiss on his back. You slowly moved away from him and made your way to a seat on the kitchen island. You sighed softly as you sat, before redirecting your attention to Shawn. You hadn’t noticed that there was music playing quietly throughout the kitchen until Shawn had begun to hum along. It was always interesting watching him get lost in his own world. His eyes sparkled in a way that only occurred when he was indulged in anything related to music. Whether song-writing, singing, or talking about his new favourite artist, It meant everything to him and it showed. His head was bopping subtly to the music as his free hand began to tap on the counter. He brushed a curl from his line of sight before looking up at you with a squint.

“You’re staring” He spoke with a smirk, startling you from your bout of admiration. You felt your face heat up slightly as you met his gaze.

“You’re being adorable, I can’t help it” you spoke quietly before tilting your head slightly.

Shawn grabbed a pair of plates and strategically placed your pancakes, omelettes, and fruits on the plate. He smiled to himself as he created little hearts with the strawberries. He handed you your plate and gave you a soft peck before he pulled away. You pat his cheek tenderly with a smile before he moved to sit next to you. You squeezed his hand lightly as he sat before you turned your attention to your breakfast, making sure to praise him with every bite, appreciating his hard work, and the delicious food.

“Hey” Shawn spoke quietly, grabbing your attention after a while.

“Yeah?” You replied, placing your fork on your plate as you turned to look at him.

“This might seem a bit lame I guess” Shawn spoke as he rubbed the back of his neck while keeping his gaze fixated on his plate “But, I really enjoy spending time with you. These days where we can just be alone together are so rare, but they’re so special to me. We get to be stuck in our own little world without having to worry about anything but us. I’m kind of rambling but I really do just love you and whatever time we have to be together. Touring and performing can be so stressful, and having to keep up with my image can be so draining sometimes, but with you, I don’t feel any of that. With you, I just get to be.. me. Without anyone projecting some idealized version of myself on me. I love you.” Shawn continued “A lot.” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

“Shawn” you cooed, “You’re gonna make me cry” you exclaimed before laying your head on his shoulder. Your head shook lightly as Shawn laughed at your melodramatic dilemma.

“If you cry, I’ll cry” Shawn replied, stroking the top of your head gently before replacing his hands with a small kiss.

You pulled away from Shawn before looking up at him in silence. He offered you a small smile before he leaned into you. Your eyes fluttered shut as he sweetly captured your lips in his as you smiled into the kiss. He huffed out slightly as he began to smile too. You both pulled away, still keeping your eyes on one another as he booped your nose with his finger before turning back to your respective meals. 

The rest of the morning was spent nestled up next to one another, playing with loose strands of hair, stealing heart-struck kisses, gazing upon Shawn’s cheeks adorned in pink, strumming guitars, and talking about everything and nothing as the rain and the outside world continued to pass you by. 

***

Just as it was in the morning, the only sounds fluttering throughout the room were the soft breaths of the content couple as they sat in a comfortable silence. The feeling of warmth buzzed from their toes to the tops of their heads as they sat in front of the fireplace wrapped in an abundant amount of blankets, holding one another in an embrace dripped in solace. Shawn’s fingers softly traced the lines on your palm as he gently leaned his head on yours. He traced a heart on your hand before slowly dragging his finger to the middle of your palm, tickling it slightly. Shawn chuckled as you let out a slight squeal.

“You’re cute” Shawn spoke as he nudged his nose against your cheek with a delicate smile. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes with a smile, whispering a soft “You’re very warm.”

The pair looked at each other with nothing but love; just how it had always been. You could feel his breath lightly fanning your face as he slowly moved his hand from your palm to brush a piece of hair from your face before resting his hand on the side of your neck. He slowly leaned in before delicately capturing your lips in his. The familiarity of the kiss had presented itself in ways unique to just the two of you. It was like the beach on an early morning, waves crashing gently across the sand as a cold gust of wind danced through the air. It was like the first snow of the year, fresh snowflakes twirling onto rooftops and sidewalks like a blanket of serenity.  

“You taste like pancake syrup, Shawn” You laughed softly before pulling away, your nose still slightly brushing against his. Shawn’s lips curled into a smile as he kept his eyes on your lips.

“Shhh” Shawn hushed with a soft chuckle as he leaned towards you once again, tilting his head slightly to mold his lips to yours.

You two had stayed that way for what felt like hours. Lost in a spiral of docile romance as the flames of the fireplace beamed mildly on your faces, illuminating the already warm atmosphere with an orange hue. Your breaths continued to mingle as your quiet proclamations of love persisted. 

“Doll” Shawn whispered out, leaning his head onto yours. You met his gaze with a raised brow, signalling for him to continue.

“You wanna dance?” Shawn asked with wide eyes

“Dance? No offense, Shawn, but you have the worst sense of rhythm. Like, ever.” You joked. Shawn playfully rolled his eyes before standing up with your hand in his, pulling you up with him.

You stood still, with your toes wiggling softly through the cushioned rug below you. Shawn hastily started to rummage through the vinyl collection sitting in a storage box on the floor. 

“Ah, here it is” Shawn exclaimed before he pulled out a record from the box. He stood up, holding the vinyl out as if he were admiring a baby. You could hear the smile in his voice before he quickly moved towards the record player sitting on the coffee table. Shawn rummaged around for a bit before a dreamy melody began to flutter through the air. He turned to you and playfully wiggled his shoulders, pulling a laugh from you. 

“What are you doing?” you attempted to speak through laughter. 

“I’m dancing” Shawn remarked as he made his way towards you, still shaking his shoulders.

“That’s hardly dancing, Shawn” You rolled your eyes at his antics

He held out a hand towards you before speaking, “Come on, dance.” He continued.

You made your way towards him, allowing your hand to fall into his as he pulled you into him. He wrapped a warm hand around your waist as his other hand stayed tangled with yours. You both began to sway back and forth as he leaned his head onto yours. You allowed yourself to be engulfed in his embrace as the music continue to play. It was like a scene in a movie. Your bodies were swaying in tune with one another in the dark living room, as the fire crackled luminously, and the thunder began to die down as the moon presented itself. 

“I went to a record store on tour, and I bought this album as soon as I heard it.” Shawn spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. You didn’t say anything as the two of you continued to dance throughout the living room. “This song reminds me of you” Shawn spoke, gently while rubbing your back with his hand.

“I love that you think of me when I’m not around” You replied quietly, your words slightly muffled as your cheek was pressed against his chest.

“I’m always thinking of you.” 

Your bodies were unwavering, much like your love. The music continued to flitter through the air, wrapping your bodies in a mellifluous melody. Soon, the morning would come, and you’d be separated once again. But as the wind howled and the rain trickled while your hearts continued to bloom, the inevitable departure was far from your thoughts. 

You were looped in a dreamscape when with Shawn. It had always been that way.

***

a/n: wanted to make the ending as dreamy as possible hopefully it worked

masterlist

read before requesting

to do list

[tossawary]

Chapter 27: “The First Day” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

-

Right now, deep into the safety of darkness, Shang Qinghua thinks about how he never actually expected to be lying in his bed with Mobei-Jun. No, there’s a reason his sofa is comfortable enough to sleep on! That was by design too! Sure, Shang Qinghua had lots and lots of bed-related fantasies, but he had no expectations of those fantasies ever coming true. He didn’t dare to have expectations.

It’s kind of weird, lying in bed with Mobei-Jun. It’s definitely weird lying in his bed partially on top of Mobei-Jun. With the way things were headed, Shang Qinghua was admittedly fostering some hopes about those bed-related fantasies, but he still didn’t think to mentally prepare himself for the practical details. He really wasn’t mentally prepared for the softness of Mobei-Jun’s hair, for the thickness and the weight of the man’s arms, or for the coolness of his skin against the warmth of the blankets.

Fuck, now there is no way that Shang Qinghua is going to be able to see Mobei-Jun with a plunging neckline without thinking about touching the man’s bare chest. It’s a nice chest! It feels great underneath Shang Qinghua’s hands now.

He can feel a steady heartbeat beneath his fingers.

He can feel the gentle rise and fall of it with the man’s slow breaths, as the man’s eyes have fallen comfortably closed.

Shang Qinghua has never seen Mobei-Jun this relaxed.

-

AN: Moshang in bed together is very good. I loved writing Moshang cuddles. I think it’s really nice when they’re allowed to be soft and relaxed, and everything is understood between them. Mobei-Jun at this point has learned to treat Shang Qinghua like a particularly anxious cat sometimes - if he just stays still and relaxed, eventually Shang Qinghua will calm down and chill with him. 

Shout out to Mobei-Jun and all those years he spent trying to get some hint as to how human social everything worked, only to get nearly no help from Shang Qinghua. In this fic, part of the idea is that Shang Qinghua has been a slightly better communicator. Mobei-Jun can be a good listener when he doesn’t feel hideously embarrassed over his fuck-ups. 

-

“I had made plans to speak with you at some point about… this,” Mobei-Jun agrees. “But that was not why I had come to see you that day.”

“Ah, what… what was it, then?”

Mobei-Jun sighs. “I had come from a gathering of demon lords, hosted by my father at their request. They have loosely agreed to each contribute to an attack on the next conference of human cultivators,” he explains, apparently annoyed at just having to recollect this event. “My uncle encourages my father to force my involvement. He must have trouble planned… or see an opportunity for it.”

Shang Qinghua processes this, then sits bolt upright in bed. “What?!”

Mobei-Jun frowns up at him.

“There’s a demonic alliance to attack the next Immortal Alliance Conference?!” Shang Qinghua demands, leaning over the demon lord beside him.

“Yes.”

“And you waited to tell me this?!”

“There are years left before this event,” Mobei-Jun points out.

Shang Qinghua stares at him.

Sure! But he feels like he should start planning now! He already knew that there was going to be a demon attack of some kind - the seal on Luo Binghe’s powers has to be broken - but demon lords getting involved is bad news! Multiple demon lords who are important enough to be socializing with Mobei-Jun’s father is worse news! Demon lords potentially including Mobei-Jun’s shitty father and shitty uncle is the worst news of all!

“You should warn your people,” Mobei-Jun says, dryly.

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun doesn’t care about the sects, but he cares that Shang Qinghua cares. Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua really are villainous in SVSSS. Shang Qinghua just so happens to sometimes be on the protagonist’s (Shen Yuan’s) side and Shen Yuan has romanced a budding tyrant who has MBJ as a loyal minion. But, oof, I didn’t want to go that route with this fic. 

I mean, I considered it! I considered having Shang Qinghua be forced to bring a demon invasion down on the sect he’s come to care about and his own nephew, but that felt a little too angsty for me. It totally could have been good, I was just like, “I can’t handle that.” Plus, with the world update, it felt fitting to jazz things up a little bit - to up the ante by inviting more demon lords and also have a little role reversal by letting Mobei-Jun be the spy. This way, I think, it really feels like Mobei-Jun is on Shang Qinghua’s side. 

Shang Qinghua isn’t on the demons’ side. Mobei-Jun isn’t really on the humans’ side. But they are on each other’s side. They’re a team! 

Again, what’s more romantic than your demon boyfriend actually doing the work of growth on his own? Moshang can be a little rough and with a lot of sharp edges (on both sides, they’re both kind of mean people) sometimes, so it’s sometimes nice to remember that they can support each other too. 

Also, I’ve always been kind of curious about what Mobei-Jun’s family thinks of his relationship with a human. Mobei-Jun’s father is still alive throughout SVSSS, so it’s fun to think about ice demon politics, power and influence and loyalty in that court, and whether that factored at all into Mobei-Jun’s extremely slow-moving courting timeline of a human. 

-

The person at the door knocks a third time, and Shang Qinghua feels the person beside him stir. He can feel a not insignificant amount of weight shifting, a low and unhappy grumble, and cool skin brushing against his own as that person makes to get up. Possibly to handle the person at the door? Shang Qinghua here abruptly remembers many important details about his current situation that make the sect potentially being on fire seem like a not-so-bad emergency.

 “Demon invasion,” Shang Qinghua finds himself thinking. “Mobei-Jun. Fuck.”

“No, no, no! Don’t get up! I’ll get it!” Shang Qinghua cries, throwing off tangled blankets and flying out of bed. “I’ll handle it, my king! Sorry! Ahhh, sorry! I’ll take care of it, you can just stay where you are-”

Shang Qinghua, now on his feet, pushes firmly down against Mobei-Jun’s chest. He’s not expecting the man - a very, very strong and very, very stubborn demon lord - to go back down under his hand without any resistance at all. This easy obedience, this willingly being pushed down, leads to a surprised Shang Qinghua overbalancing and catching himself hard on Mobei-Jun’s chest and shoulders.

As though Shang Qinghua is actually pinning the man down.

Mobei-Jun stares up at him, eyes low-lidded, and raises his eyebrows.

Ah.

Wow.

Shang Qinghua is going to… well, he’s going to think about this for the rest of his life, probably.

-

AN: Mobei-Jun is so self-conscious in SVSSS that it’s kind of hilarious. So it’s fun to let him be a little more confident (rather than arrogant and lashing out defensively). Mobei-Jun probably thought to himself here, “You know what’ll be funny here? If I just go down now.” I feel it in my heart that Mobei-Jun is a teaser, especially when he’s relaxed and happy. 

- 

Shang Qinghua takes the time to fix up his appearance a little more - to get rid of the “I slept with a demon” smell - because if the asshole at his door has kept it up this long, they can wait a little longer. It turns out that he didn’t really need to bother, because it’s his fellow transmigrator and most dogged critic, Peerless Cucumber.

“Bro,” Shang Qinghua says seriously. “Do you have a deathwish?”

Peerless Cucumber - Shen Yuan, Shang Qinghua has to remember to call the kid by his real name - lowers his hand with a scowl. “...One of your disciples told me to knock on your door and keep knocking until you answered,” the other transmigrator says defensively. “After I said you said to meet you in the morning.”

“...Which one?”

“Wen Shufen, I think?”

“Ah, just for that prank, Sticky Fingers is going to be hauling fertilizer for Long Sheng Peak for a month,” Shang Qinghua says tiredly. “Bro, do not believe half the things your martial siblings here tell you. They’re pretty much all liars, cheats, and thieves.”

“Then why keep them around?”

“Ah, well, sometimes you need someone to lie, cheat, or steal.”

“...It’s nearly not morning anymore, you know.”

“Eh, I guess you get a pass this time, since I did tell you we’d have a nice long talk about things tomorrow morning. Come on in.”

- 

AN: I don’t know if this vibe is coming across, but Shen Yuan feels a little ignored and neglected. They just got back from a mission and Shen Yuan has already been shooed off like twice. Shang Qinghua is so busy. Shang Qinghua is so experienced and so established here. Shen Yuan has latched onto SQH as his lifeline, though he’s trying very, very hard to be independent, and yet Shang Qinghua kind of has SY on the back burner most of the time. 

Not only is Shang Qinghua the author of this world, but he’s also an important figure in this world. Shang Qinghua really lives here and if the plot wasn’t looming over them, SQH would be very happy here. This place feels 100% like Shang Qinghua’s | Airplane’s world and brand new transmigrator Shen Yuan feels like an unwanted intruder. SY is still lonely and scared. 

- 

“...Are you going to try to activate it now?” Shen Yuan asks.

“Hmmm… no, not right now,” Shang Qinghua decides, standing up off the dusty stool he was sitting on. “Cucumber, bro, I’m just not awake enough for tackling anything serious right now. Let me get a few texts and tools together first to test this thing properly, alright? Some safety equipment! Aprons and face shields! Thick, fireproof gloves! I’m still trying to figure out how to safely ask Duan Tianyu what he knows about this map the System apparently made him send me, when he might not even know what the fuck I’m talking about! Maybe he can give us some hints.”

“Who?”

“One of my Huan Hua not-disciples,” Shang Qinghua answers. “I picked up some extras a few deadly missions back. They’re good kids. All grown up now! Less naïve than they used to be! Duan Tianyu is teaching back at Huan Hua Palace now, so maybe I’ll have to be the one to wander over there on some pretense.”

Shen Yuan agrees that getting as much information as possible is probably the better course of action. Shang Qinghua ushers the kid out of his secret basement and his fellow transmigrator goes easily enough. Shang Qinghua complains about his shitty, no-good System on the way up for forcing them to do all the work by themselves.

“It must think everything is more ‘authentic’ if I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” Shang Qinghua suggests, removing his spiritual seal and causing the door to the secret basement to vanish. “Ah, I’ll admit that’s kind of cool to watch.”

-

AN: Throughout this conversation, SY is kind of reaching out, giving himself or Airplane excuses to let him stay. It’s not that he doesn’t want to cultivate, but SQH represents a sort of safety and familiarity SY doesn’t have right now. 

In SVSSS, Airplane was always pretty direct with Shen Yuan, from what I remember, but he wasn’t necessarily open. He was direct about some potentially vulnerable or personal topics, like Luo Binghe’s insanity or his own general fear of his character’s planned death, but that’s not the same as actually being vulnerable. They snap at each other, they’re pretty direct about their personal goals, but they don’t actually get vulnerable with each other by confessing their personal fears and new relationship developments. 

So I’ve tried to adopt that here, while making Shang Qinghua a little kinder and slightly more vulnerable, thanks to the efforts of Luo Jiahui. But Shang Qinghua still isn’t necessarily open here and neither is Shen Yuan. He’s just like, “Hey, it’s shit and I don’t like it either, but what can you do?” He’s not actually seriously talking about his breakdown or just how scared he is of his own plot. 

For some people, there’s a certain kind of openness in confessing things to a stranger, so it’s kind of like that too. Shang Qinghua and Shen Yuan have fallen into kind of familiar dynamics, because there’s nothing else to really do, and they are kind of acquaintances, but they’re still not friends yet. 

I think I want to have SY and SQH actually address this soon. SY feels that SQH has been kind of dropping the ball when it comes to honestly helping his fellow transmigrator, though SY, being SY, can’t quite put his finger on the lack of emotional intimacy and affection that he’s starved for right now. 

- 

The day-in-day-out of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect can’t get him down today! He feels kind of like he’s walking on air! Sure, the work never stops and there are some fucking terrifying things ahead, but he just had a very successful mission overall! He just had a really, really successful conversation with Mobei-Jun! He and Mobei-Jun are romantically entwined and Mobei-Jun was very explicit about the fact that he expects them to be romantically entwined… pretty much indefinitely!

“There is no one else,” Mobei-Jun had said. “There will be no one else.”

Shang Qinghua fostered a lot of hopes over the years! More hopes than he felt that he should have reasonably fostered! And to have those hopes unexpectedly fulfilled like this is… really something! It’s really, really something! Mobei-Jun really isn’t the type of character to say that - to say any of the things he said, and wow, he said a lot of things back there - without meaning it completely.

Shang Qinghua doesn’t really know what to do with that.

Forever is a long time.

He understands, of course, that some things really do last an impossibly long time. He used to be pretty certain that all love matches faded eventually - that people were genuinely wildly in love… that people were sincerely in love with each other, sure… up until they inevitably weren’t anymore - but now he can’t really imagine Liu Qingge or Luo Jiahui ever getting tired of each other. Liu Qingge keeps bringing Luo Jiahui new recipes to try and rare ingredients to interest her, so she can make dishes for the two of them or her family as a whole, and Shang Qinghua can easily imagine the two of them doing that pretty much indefinitely.

Shang Qinghua can’t think about this for long, before he has to focus on greeting his disciples (it’s just Peng Hongpeng and Chen Xuan in here at the moment) and getting to work. “Good things last while they last!” he decides for now, because thinking about things not lasting kind of makes him feel like he’s dying.

-

AN: Shang Qinghua can’t quite bring himself to believe in a relationship lasting forever right now. Part of it is his commitment issues, but another part of it is his persisting inability to see past the looming plot. He’s still worried about Luo Binghe and the Eternal Abyss, so he’s having difficulty seeing past that hurdle, even though things like Luo Jiahui’s marriage and his new relationship with Mobei-Jun are forcing him to confront the fact that there’s still a life outside of and beyond the plot. 

For Shang Qinghua, it’s kind of a “I’ll think about that later if we all survive” thing when it comes to him and Mobei-Jun. 

- 

“He made a mistake with good intentions and got a small injury for it,” Shang Qinghua says, as reassuringly as he can. “He’s fine! He’s in trouble with his shizun for it, though, but I’ll see what I can do about bringing you up to meet him or bringing him down here as soon as possible. I’ll do my best to make it happen!”

Luo Jiahui leans into Shang Qinghua’s side and admits, “I miss him.”

“He misses you.”

“I miss you too,” Luo Jiahui adds.

“...Ah, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” his sister-in-law says warmly. “I’d miss you even if you visited every day.”

Shang Qinghua is holding her hands, but it feels like she’s got an extra one wrapped around his heart. “Where’s that husband of yours? Doesn’t he come down the mountain every day? Should I be telling him off? Sorry I ran off with him for a little bit!”

“What does Qingge have to do with you and me?” Luo Jiahui demands. “It doesn’t matter how often I see everyone else, I still miss you and Binghe the most.”

“Hm, that’s a point! That’s a point.”

What else can Shang Qinghua do but admit that he misses her the most too?

-

AN: It was fun to follow up Shang Qinghua’s romantic developments with a return to his most important and longest relationship: the one he has with his “fake” sister. Luo Jiahui is and always will be important to Shang Qinghua and who he’s become. They have such a lovely relaxed feeling that’s nice to revisit. I’ve missed Luo Jiahui these past few chapters, as things get twisted up more and more in sect business. 

It would feel dishonest to the rest of the fic if Shang Qinghua’s other relationships disappeared in favor of his new romantic relationship. They all have their own importance. Mobei-Jun and Liu Qingge don’t make Shang Qinghua and Luo Jiahui any less important to each other. 

I am looking forward to making Mobei-Jun and Luo Jiahui meet again, and tackling some of Mobei-Jun’s thoughts on Shang Qinghua’s relationship with his family. Mobei-Jun has a really shitty family, so it’s interesting thinking about what family means to him and how loyalty/love plays into it. 

- 

While he's busy plotting around the plot, there’s a hum of power behind him, the cool whoosh and crackle of a portal opening, the faint hair-rising warning of demonic energy. Shang Qinghua finishes tapping at his own face in thought, looks up at the looming shadow standing behind him, and smiles. He kind of feels like he should run away, but it's too late for that now. He held on long enough that he made it too late for himself.

“Hello,” he says.

- 

AN: I took this almost exactly from the first chapter of Part 3 of this fic. I can’t remember the chapter number, but it was the one titled “The Inevitable Plot”. 

Parts 3 and 4 of this fic blend together a little. Part 3 of this fic kind of ends here, but I have a couple more chapters that I want to tackle before I feel that I can say we’re for sure in Part 4? I have some things I want to accomplish before we go into a slight time skip towards the Immortal Alliance Conference. 

[lucif5er]

AssassinKatsuki x PrinceIzuku

Katsuki doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting in this cell. Was it weeks? Months? He can’t tell anymore. Days and nights have merged together to turn into one big blur. Finally, a guard arrives and tells him he’s been bought, by the prince of course. The prince he’s meant to kill.

He was hired to kill the prince, soon to be crowned king of Musutafu. They offered him a hefty sum, enough for his family to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. It was an offer Katsuki couldn’t refuse.

Izuku Midoriya was rumored to purchase prisoners and turn them into his slaves. Apparently, the bastard went through a new slave every month then they disappeared. Everyone around the kingdom has heard the rumors of the prince who kills his slaves once they were no longer useful to him. He was nicknamed Deku, fitting for a useless prince.

Getting imprisoned was the perfect way to infiltrate. The guard, a tall man with duo-colored hair and a scar on his eye walked him to a small room. “You must shower before meeting the prince. Everything you might need is in there.”

Katsuki could only scoff at the smug bastard. Once he was finished and changed the guard was already waiting for him at the door. He escorted him to what must have been the prince's room but stopped before the doors.

“Your majesty is waiting for you.” the guard says.

Katsuki pushes the door open and he spots a small man sitting on the bed. If this is the prince he’s definitely not what he was expecting.

Wild green curls sprout from his head which is filled with freckles that seem to be never-ending. When he turns to look at him, Katsukis breath catches in his throat. Big green eyes stare at him and he smiles so brightly at him Katsuki has to keep himself from looking away.

“H-hi um I’m Izuku but you probably already knew that uum so you’ll be working as my attendant so um well” the man starts mumbling while his cheeks and ears slowly turn pink “and well please take care of me,” he says as he bows.

“Are /you/ the prince they call Deku?” Katsuki asks and he can’t help the distaste in his voice.

The smaller man looks down as if ashamed and nods. “That's just a nickname b-but if that’s what you’d like to call me it’s no problem.” He says as he scratches his arm.

“Okay, Deku what is it that you would have me do? Will I get some type of training?”

Deku looks up and he's smiling again. “Oh well, you sort of j-just need to keep me company.”

“Tch so what am I like your fucking call boy or something?” and Katsuki feels disgusted at the words. Never would he have thought the prince stooped so low as to taking advantage of his servants before killing them.

Deku flinches at the words but takes a few steps closer to Katsuki anyways. “N-no of course not. I-I would never. Y-you will just be like a friend.”

Katsuki barks out a laugh that echoes through the room and when he turns to look at Deku he’s red all over and looks like a strawberry.

After a week of being Dekus “friend”, he learns that the prince is a nerd. He reads countless books and talks Katsuki’s ear off every day, from sunrise to sundown.

On the 7th day, one of the other servants disappears and Katsuki remembers he can’t be swayed by this monster in disguise, he has a job to do after all.

But on his way back to his servant quarters he hears one of the other servants talking about the one who disappeared.

“Prince Izuku took her back home last night. She was so happy. I’m going to miss her so much.” the servant girl says.

“I know Ochako but soon you’ll get to go too. You know we have to give the prince some time or we’ll get caught.” Katsuki recognizes Iida's voice right away. He’s the servant who helps Deku with his studies.

“I know I know Tenya. The prince is too kind for his own good.” Ochako says.

Katsuki didn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t believe what he’s hearing. Deku took the servant girl home? He freed her? There's no fucking way. So Katsuki stalks his way to Deku's room and doesn’t even bother knocking.

When he swings the doors open he sees Deku standing in front of his mirror, shirtless. His torso and back are covered in bruises but his arms...Katsuki is shocked at the scars on Deku's arms, they looked old but his skin looked mangled as if his skin was chewed up until the point of no repair.

Katsuki sucks in a breath and Deku turns holding a blanket to his body.

“Waacchan. Y-you scared me. I thought you were going to bed” Deku says with a look of mortification.

“The fuck happened to you Deku?” Katsuki asks as he moves to grab Dekus' blouse, holding it up for him to put his arms through it.

“O-oh it’s nothing I was just training with my father,” he says as he hisses at Katsuki’s light touch

“This seems like a little extreme don’t you think nerd?”

“Father says it’s character building for the future king”

Katsuki simply humms at his response.

As days turn into weeks Katsuki learns of Deku's garden which he tends to every day. Of his secret spot in the library that holds his favorite books. He learns of the constant abuse that is inflicted on him by his father.

But the kindness in his voice when he speaks to his servants or ‘friends’ as he calls them never leaves. He learns that in secret Deku sends provisions to the villages whom his father steals from. He learns that he is far too kind and gentle for his own good and Katsuki can’t help but grow angrier because how will he fulfill his job like this?

And every 7th day of the week Katsuki waits for him in his chambers with healing tools for his never ending cuts and bruises and burns. And he waits for Deku to break down because he can’t fathom a life like his but it never comes.

Deku only sits with his head held high and a shy look on his face as Katsuki tends to his wounds with the lightest of touches.

“Kacchan do you miss your family?” Deku asks him one night. This night Deku's wounds are the worst he’s ever seen them and Katsuki can’t help the rage that fills him.

“Why do you care?”

“H-huh oh I was jus-“

“I know that you free your servants” Katsuki doesn’t mean to sound so angry but he can’t help it. “I know you fake their death and send them away. Are you going to send me away too?” and it comes out as a whisper.

Deku just sighs. A look of indignation on his face. “My father is a cruel man, Kacchan” and Deku looks so sad, so fucking sad that Katsuki wishes he could kill every fucker that put this look on his face.

“Soon Kacchan will be home. I promise” and for the first time, Katsuki sees tears. They stream down freckled cheeks.

“Oi nerd whats with the tears”

“It's because it hurts Kacchan” Deku says with a small smile on his face

“Hah?! You get beatings on the daily and this is what hurts? The beatings getting to your head now?” Katsuki says with a grin.

“Ah, I really just wanted to see Kacchans smile.”

As Katsuki wipes a stray tear away and rests his forehead on Deku's he realizes that he may love this man, because the scent of bell orchids that he can smell when he’s near him, he very selfishly hopes that he’s the only one who ever smells his scent. Only him.

Katsuki’s love is slow, but even hearts of stone can long for something more. So it is, that Deku and he gradually move closer to one another as the days wore on, tiny fractions of an inch at the time, so slowly that even someone who was paying attention wouldn’t notice.

And when Katsuki starts feeling impatient, sometimes when the waiting is unbearable he finds himself moving entire inches at a time and he takes and takes and takes. Takes from Deku because he is always willing to give. He gives everything to Katsuki, bending to his touch.

—————————

“Lets leave this place Deku”

Deku pauses his watering and turns to look at Katsuki. “Leave?”

“Yes. Somewhere far away. Where no one can find us”

They stood there for a long time under the light blue sky until Deku finally spoke.

“We can’t leave my mother and-and our friends”

“They’re not your friends they’re your servants Deku”

“Maybe” Deku says with a sad smile “but Kacchan is my friend right?”

Katsuki sighs and takes Dekus hand and presses a soft kiss to it. “Yeah Deku but only me okay?”

“Of course. I love Kacchan the most.” Deku beams at him and in this moment Katsuki exists for a while in a state of blissful glow but the pressure of all this light is crushing his bones into powder. It’s too much.

Katsuki always believed that there was no such thing as too much love that it’s warmth was a comfort from which we never tire but when love turns to obsession it consumes itself. The flame that nourished becomes angry, merciless, an all consuming blaze that now leaves him confused by the chill in the air and the hate left behind.

——————

“The king has requested your presence” the guard whom he now knows is named Todoroki says.

Katsuki rises from his cot and walks out the door. “I can get there myself half’n’half” he says without turning.

When he arrives to the throne room /he/ is sitting there. But Katsuki does not see a king, no. He sees a tyrant, a murderer, an abuser. Hisashi Midoriya, the devil incarnate.

“It has been nearly 4 months and you have yet to complete your job Bakugou” the king says.

“I changed my mind. Keep your gold” Katsuki spits out.

“Oh? Then maybe you need a better incentive” he says nonchalantly.

Katsuki sneers at him. “I won’t do it you bastard. I’m leaving.”

“Tell me, do you think you can get there before your village burns to the ground?”

Katsuki’s eyes widen and he grits his teeth “You wouldn’t!”

“Are you willing to sacrifice hundreds for one person?”

“You fucking bastard I’ll kill you”

“Maybe one village isn’t enough. Well. There are always more villages.” And he laughs. The bastard has the audacity to fucking laugh. “You may go now but make sure you think about it. The coronation is coming soon.”

Katsuki leaves the throne room unbeknownst to the man standing just outside the door.

Please, God, Katsuki thinks, and then realizes that he had no idea what he was asking for. Please what? Please don’t let what happened happen? Please don’t let him take Deku away? Please don’t let me feel this way anymore?

Please take away this awful thing inside me.

——————

“You asked me if I missed my family” Katsuki says as he wraps yet another cut on Dekus arm.

Deku looks up at him with wide eyes then they turn sad but filled with understanding and already shiny with unshed tears but his soft smile doesn’t leave his face “Is Kacchan ready to go home now?”

He looks away, willing his own tears to go away but Deku sweeps him out of his chair and dances him around the room while Deku laughs in his arms, his movements smooth and graceful as ever.

Katsuki hugs him tight and the pressure on Dekus cuts must be hurting him because he whimpers but yet he doesn’t pull away.

“I can’t take you with me Deku”

“I know you can’t love”

“I’m sorry”

“Me too Kacchan” Deku says at his shoulder, but Katsuki hardly hears him. With one sudden movement he reaches out and thrusts the blade in his back.

“I will always love Kacchan the most” Deku breaths.

He just holds him there as Dekus body grows limp. When Katsuki dares to look at his eyes again they are no longer green, and he realizes that he didn't have a word for the color they were anymore. The color was bleeding and leaking out of his world in mere seconds.

And suddenly he hears it, in the heavy stillness of that wretched palace, the heavy pounding of boots through the corridors and the echoes of the shrieks, all running towards the direction of the training room.

“THE KING HAS BEEN MURDERED”

Katsuki wails.

He weeps until he can only lay next to him, motionless, with his lips almost touching Dekus, he closes his eyes and breaths. Wishes he could’ve told him that he was the closest thing to true love he had ever known.

But maybe he just wasn’t close enough, not this time, not this way. Maybe next time around, the universe will be kinder to them and Katsuki won’t be a monster and Deku won’t fall in love with him.