#those were all the ones i could remember/find

[bobbertskeetz]

Hi! How are You? Hope u are good.

Can I request Spencer with a reader that had unsub parents? It can be female ir male

You can ignore this is You want! Thank u for hearing me

I'm so sorry for the delay on this request, I'm crap at trying to come up with unsub plot lines but I hope this somewhat lives up to the imagine you had envisioned my love !! Thanks a million for the request and I hope you enjoy <3

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇꜱ ꜱ.ʀ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: After half a decade, Spencer's worst fears are assumed to come true...

Themes/Warnings: gn!reader, pre-established relationship, mentions of kidnapping, unsub parents, angst, general themes and violence of the show. | PSA!! This imagine is loosely based on Mosely Lane |

You hated having your picture taken. The knowledge that you could never truly have control over what will be done with it haunts you even to this day.

The physical danger may be gone, but your memory, one which was shared with the many children who, unfortunately, found themselves locked away behind the dingy cellar door, forever remains.

Spencer knew of the horror stories. Of course he did. You made it your mission to tell him yourself before one of his FBI buddies could find out for themselves. However, hearing the admissions fall from your mouth did nothing to soothe Spencer's fear and anger. Fear, for your safety. Anger, for the knowledge that you lived in fear for the majority of your life. Anger, for the knowledge that the only thing separating you from your parents was a couple layers of cement and a cell door. He knew first hand just how ineffective prison can be for victims safety - if an unsub wanted to achieve something or other, all it took was speaking with the right person. He hated that he knew that.

Especially when he received a token in the mail.

A small parcel, barely the size of his palm. A little thin package addressed to Whom It May Concern. Assuming nothing of it, he opened it. You had already left for work, bidding him his goodbye kiss and promising a home cooked meal by the time he returned from the office. There was no sense in waiting until you were both home to open it, what if it was urgent?

And so he did.

And oh how he wished he never had.

There in his hand, sat a small polaroid of a child. At first, he didn't recognise you - for the ten years he had known you, and the five you spent living together, you have all but refused to dig up any childhood photographs. However, the longer he stared, the more he noticed your teary eyes. Your scrunched nose and furrowed brows. The same expression you wear to this day when you wake from a nightmare, when you watch a scary movie, and when you first told him of the horror house your parents ran. When you told him of the polaroids you were forced to take of your 'brothers' and 'sisters', and of your task of lugging those who disobeyed your mother to the crematorium.

Yet you'd failed to tell him that your picture was taken along with the other victims. That your little face had been a part of the morbid photo album which remained in the evidence case. Perhaps you didn't know? Did you even remember having this picture taken, you couldn't have been more than 7 years old. Spencer felt sick. Suddenly, it dawned on him what he was holding. How did he come to have this. Who had left this at your shared doorstep. They knew where you lived.

They knew where you lived.

He just about caught the bile in his throat before he felt his pocket buzz.

Struggling to pull his gaze from the omen in his hand, he reached for his phone and answered, failing to see the caller ID.

"Reid?"

"Yeah. Hotch I know, but I might be a bit late."

Before he could provide a half-assed excuse to buy himself some time - time to think on how he was to go about bringing this up to you and the team - Hotch beat him to it.

"Reid," His voice was solemn, yet calculated, "We've received a package. Well - JJ has."

"It's them Hotch."

The silence was pregnant. Deafening.

"I know."

--

Your foot shook, in a desperate attempt to self-soothe. The fluorescent glow of the BAU was straining your eyes, leaving a slight pound in your temples. However, the main focus of your stress induced headache remained on the ambiguity surrounding as to why David Rossi appeared at your work to escort you to Quantico. And why your boyfriend has locked himself and Aaron away in the conference room for the last forty minutes. You were scared. You couldn't let it show, you'd learnt that the hard way. But, in a room full of profilers, it was hard to hide - you were convinced that they could all genuinely smell fear.

In fact, your fear was so prominent, you failed to hear Morgan calling your name until he was crouched in front of you.

"How bout we go into Reid now, huh?" You met his eye only briefly.

Carefully, you chose your next words, "Will you all tell me what's going on?" Pleading with your eyes, Morgan felt his stomach twist.

"C'mon sweetheart."

You didn't take much convincing. All you wanted was Spencer, to curl up into him and forget all about this disruption to your day. Part of you began to wonder if you were being completely over dramatic and misreading the situation, maybe he had a surprise for you. A date? But you knew, in your gut you knew. They'd come back to haunt you. Why else would this dread be bubbling in your stomach?

Derek opened the door for you, leading you gently by the shoulder. There, you saw your boyfriend, bent over the table resting his hands on either side of what looked to me scraps of paper. His sleeves had been messily pushed up over his elbows, top button undone and his hair was tussled, a tell-tale sign that he had been pushing his hands through his curls. But for why? You still didn't truly know.

He looked up. His stomach dropped.

Wringing your fingers together, you stood before him with a sheepish look across your face. He knew you suspected something, something bad. And maybe you were right. It still didn't make telling you any easier.

"C'mere honey," He held his arm out to you, inviting you to slot into his chest, "Can you look at these with me? I'm right here."

You wished you'd stayed at work.

There on the table in front of you, sat three polaroids. One, you recognised to be Laney, the girl you had befriended for years. The photo, you had taken of her, as you had of all the others, to keep in an album. Why? You didn't know. Proof? Maybe a part of you knew that one day the horror would stop, and you'd need to show someone some day what had happened in your house. Someone had to remember all those who couldn't survive. Like your Laney.

The other two forced your head to bury itself into Spencer's chest; one, was of your bedroom, or rather your cell, and one of you. Little you. When it was taken, who had taken it? You weren't so sure. Laney? Your father? Everything was a fuzzy mess of guilt, shame and fear, so much so you couldn't remember the half of it.

The one thing you knew for certain, you remembered hating having that photo taken. For what reason? You couldn't place. But you did know that to this day, you still hated having your picture taken. That would never change.

"Where did you find these?" He almost missed your words completely, you spoke so softly, voice strained and distant.

A shaky breath left his lips.

"They found us angel, I'm so sorry."

Your heart lurched. Surely you had heard him wrong. You asked him, silently begging you had indeed misheard, but to your horror, that just was not the case.

Just then, JJ stepped forward, a small piece of paper outstretched to you, "Spence received the one of you at your home. We were sent the other two here, along with this note."

Shakily, you grasped for the paper, sparing Spencer a short glance before guiding your eyes to the words scrawled out in front of you.

Your old home address, a date and time. A demand for you to be there alone, or you would be 'collected' regardless of your showing up or not.

Your head spun, had it not been for Spencer's firm grasp around your waist, you were sure you'd have collapsed then and there.

Tears welled up as your eyes locked with his. His own frown matching the drop in your stomach.

They were back. You both knew it, and for once, Spencer didn't have all the answers.

[mcuamerica]

Cabin by the Lake | Azriel x Fem!Reader

Featuring: Protective Bat Boys

Summary: Azriel is in a meeting in Autumn, while his family is unprotected from malicious visitors... Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, misogyny, threat to child, not proofread

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

The sun was out in full force on the summer day, beating down on you and Callan, your babe. You decided instead of spending the day sweltering in the cabin, you would gather your things and bring Callan to the small lake. Not too far from your cabin, you could still see the roof from where you sat on the sandy beach. Cal sat up, watching as small fish raced around his fingers.

You sent the image down the bond to your mate, who wasn't with you because of some Court business that needed tending to. Since you couldn't find someone to watch Callan, you decided to stay back. After all, you weren't a trained warrior and didn't do very well as a courtier. You much preferred being a healer for the Court... and watching your handsome mate protect you. And now, all you wanted to be was a mother. You never got a response from Azriel, deeming that he had closed his end for the meeting.

So you read your book, legs spread out on a towel from the cabin. You kept one eye on Cal as you read, enjoying the breeze that swept through the forest. As you reached for one of the many fruits you brought along, you heard a few twigs snapping in the distance. You didn't think much of it, since there were plenty of friendly animals in the forest just outside of Velaris.

When you heard Cal babble, his wings fluttering behind his back, you glanced up. You smiled as he crawled his way over to you, reaching out to be held. You picked him up, smiling when he reached to tug on the small moon necklace that hung from your neck. You whispered to him, silently scolding him as he tugged on it. It was Azriel's first gift to you when the bond snapped, a promise that as long as the moon still lit up at night, he would be there for you.

You heard more twigs snap, this time closer. As you turned your head, you noticed three winged males stalking towards the trees. Your heart beat kicked up as you rose to your feet, praying they didn't see or hear you. No one was out in these woods normally, which is exactly why Azriel chose this spot to build the cabin for your family. So you would be out of harms way when he was gone.

You didn't recognize the males as they walked through the tree line. You hid behind a tree, slightly bouncing Cal to keep him entertained but quiet.

"Come on out, sweetheart... We know you're here." One of the males taunted, his voice deep and brutal. You shut your eyes for a moment, trying to remember something, anything that Azriel and your family had taught you about defending yourself. But with Cal in your arms, there was nothing you could do.

"We want to show the Shadowsinger what messing with our females gets him... See how he likes it when his female isn't under his control anymore." Another male said.

You breathed deeply, tugging on the bond like you haven't before, praying to the Mother that Azriel would feel it. You even lashed out your mind to Feyre and Rhys, hoping they would hear something.

All of the sudden, there was a male two trees away from you. Damn. He spotted you. "I found her boys... and she has a little one with her too. Look at those wings, so breakable."

You held back a whimper, slowly backing from the tree and running straight into one of the males. He was almost a head taller than you, and his wings towered behind him. Cal started to fuss, sensing that his mother was nervous.

"Maybe we can ruin his heir for him too... Since he's made it so easy for our females to take them and run from us." One of them said, the one that spoke first.

The male that stood behind you grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Nothing to say, sweetheart?" He asked, his breath too close to your neck.

"I-I don't know who you're talking about." You stuttered, hoping you were convincing.

He tsked. "Don't lie.. we've seen you on visits to Ironcrest. We know the Shadowsinger lives in these woods with his... healer wife. No big strong man to protect you know, huh?"

Then you heard a thud on the ground ahead of you. You and the man both looked towards the sound... and beheld the High Lord of the Night Court, seething.

"Take your hands off her." He growled, using what you knew to be his High Lord voice.

You were trembling as the man kept his grip on you, now feeling a blade against your side.

"I would chose your steps carefully, Rhysand. One wrong move and I might just let this knife slip right through this pretty little waist." He said, his voice right in your voice.

You felt the tears run down your cheeks. Why had you never learned to protect yourself? Why did you always have to decline it. If you knew anything... you wouldn't need your family to come in to save you. You wouldn't be fearing for the life of your babe right now.

"I'm doing you a courtesy of giving you a chose. Hands. Off. Now." He said. You heard another thud beside you, and saw Cassian standing there. He made quick work of incapacitating the other two males. You felt slightly better, but not completely. Where was your mate?

"I don't think you understand my reason for being here." He said. "You see-"

You felt a warm splatter of liquid hit the back of your head and side of your face and neck. You let out a scream, finally stepping out of the males grasp. You soon realized it was blood streaming down your hair now, and your mate was the one who slit that males throat.

You breathing quickened as you held onto Cal tightly, who was now reaching for his Uncle Rhys as him and Cassian approached. Once Azriel was in front of you, you let Rhys take Cal and collapsed into Azriel's arms. "I-I couldn't do anything. I-I'm so sorry. They could have hurt Cal a-and-"

Azriel pulled away, cupping your cheeks. "Hey, hey... Don't blame yourself. You are okay. Cal is okay. Breath. It's okay." He said, stroking your cheek as you calmed your breathing. The tears dried up in your eyes, now feeling the calming net of safety that your mate provided. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to protect you." He said, wiping some of the blood off of your cheek.

"Next time, you're going to come with us. Or you'll stay in the House of Wind. I won't leave you here again until it's properly warded." He said and glanced over to see Cal giggling in Rhys's arms at some gesture Cassian made. "I have to keep my promise, don't I?" He asked.

You gave him a small, gentle smile as you heard the giggles fall from Cal's lips. "You always keep your promise." You said, taking a final deep breath.

"And I will always protect you. And our family." Azriel said, leaning down to kiss your head. "Now let's get you cleaned up. I think I want to spend the day at the lake with you." He said, winking at you.

You nudged him and shook your head as the two of you made your way over to your son. "Too soon." You said, though a small fit of laughter fell from your lips.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed!

Main Masterlist

[ao3commentoftheday]

do you have any advice on what to do when you know your writing issues are connected to wanting a community, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t find a community? or you know that if you go ahead and write for the rarepair/fandom/character of your heart, you’ll have no one to write for and look like a total loser? there are some fandoms i want to write for so bad, but i know no one would ever read anything i write, and i can’t find a point in writing when that’s the case.

I really want to give you a hug, anon 💗 You're being so mean to yourself, and you really don't deserve it.

Why are you so sure that no one will read anything that you write? And why do you think you'd be a loser if that were the case?

Community is a really important part of creating for a lot of people. They draw energy and motivation from sharing ideas and getting excited about each other's art. They get inspired by talking to other people about their projects or about the source material or about a shared love of a trope.

But from what you wrote here (and I could be wrong, this is just one paragraph), it sounds like you need a community in order to find your self-worth. You are describing your success or failure, your value or lack thereof in terms of what other people think about you and whether they react to your work.

You are good and important and worth knowing whether other people read your fic or not ❤️❤️

When it comes to finding a community, I recommend starting with just one person. Find someone who's blog you like or whose writing or art you enjoy and reach out to them. Send an ask. Drop a comment. Try a DM. Whatever you're comfortable with, get to know them a little and see if you want to be friends. Once you've got one person, it's easier to find more.

But at the same time that you do that, try to change the way you talk to and about yourself. I know it's hard and it might even feel awkward, but it makes a difference if you can keep it up. It even stops being hard after a while.

Remember that no other person's opinion is more important than your own. You created your work and you understand it best. Your first audience is yourself, after all.

You'll never be able to control what other people do - whether they read your fic or comment on it, whether they like it or hate it or leave a kudos.

Instead of thinking about those things, think about what you can control. Choose what stories you write. Do the things you're passionate about. Celebrate goals like word count or completing a fic or writing a really great line. Those are all achievements too, and none of them depend on the opinions of others.

It is really hard to separate your desire for attention or approval from your desire to participate in a fandom, and it's going to take time to untangle them from each other. But we're all here cheering you on, anon, and we'd love to help you on your way.

[doeidawn]

☁︎ — helping hand

kyle was always a good friend to you, a shoulder to cry on and a hand to hold when times got rough. maybe it was a good thing that your biggest problem as of late was a (seemingly endless) cycle of bad boyfriends. but kyle can't stand to see you upset; not when he knows just how well he can help you. 5.4k

⟢ pairing: gaz x f!reader

⟢ tags: MDNI/18+; one-time fwb turns into two-times; reference to previous sexual encounters; technically hurt/comfort—reader has shitty ex-bfs; smoking; gaz is a tease; oral sex [f receiving]; fingering; couch sex; unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it); praise; slight possessive gaz if you squint; increasingly desperate sex; handjob; semi-awkward aftercare; i do not know how to end long fics sorry it's lame

It’s been a while since you and Kyle hooked up.

Eight months, to be exact. Nearly a year. Thankfully, everything was still okay between you two. He was a close friend—a good friend—and hooking up didn’t seem to change much about that. If anything, it only improved things; there was no lingering tension simmering in the air on late nights. No more wondering how his hands and lips would feel on your skin or yearning to hear him whisper filth in your ear. And even though it seemed surreal to remember the way he felt against you, it was over after that one time.

So you moved on. Even though your body begged for more and every fantasy seemed to circle back to him, you moved on.

In fact, Kyle was nothing but supportive of moving on. He was among the first to learn every time you started talking to someone new. He cared enough to vet the guys you met whenever he could, the major downside being that his criteria of “worthy of dating you” seemed very strict. So strict that none of them ever really fulfilled it. But you always assumed it was because Kyle cared about you and wanted you safe with a guy who knew your worth. Truthfully, he was the most supportive wingman you could’ve asked for.

It was a bittersweet feeling. You had to wonder if the night you shared replayed in his head as often as your own. He was the best you ever had, no doubt about it, but you knew it wasn’t in your best interest to yearn for your best friend. But, goddamn, was his embrace a hard one to find a replacement for.

Try as he may to keep you safe and prevent any heartbreak, it was, unfortunately, inevitable. Despite all of his efforts to keep you away from guys who were so clearly just using you, he couldn’t have known you were desperate enough to fill the void that you couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the promise of a warm body. It was never worth it in the end. Every time, without fail, you’d run back to Kyle to cry on his shoulder. It sucked. But he was always the greatest help.

And, as much as you hated yourself for it, that’s exactly where you found yourself again. Sat on his sofa while you blow snot into tissues and smoke through his cigarettes just to rant about your latest failure of a date. You felt no better than the subjects of whatever trashy television was playing on the screen; originally intended to laugh at for distraction, now only reminding you how pitiful you felt. 

Like always, Kyle had a reassuring hand rubbing your back, nice enough to nod along to your sputtering and curses, as nonsensical as they were. He was so nice, and it made you feel like shit whenever you came around with another sob story.

You run a hand over your puffy eyes, wiping away another stream of tears from your cheeks. “M’sorry, Kyle. I didn’t mean to come over n’ cause a scene.”

“You’re alright, love.” The reassurance was nice, and it felt genuine, but it didn’t necessarily change how you felt.

“No, I’m not. I’m a fuckin’ mess.” A self-deprecating laugh leaves your lips as you run another tissue over your raw and red nose. “You think I’d learn a thing or two by now.”

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault those guys don’t know a perfect woman when they’ve got her.”

You roll your eyes at that. “‘A perfect woman’.” The thought makes you scoff. You felt anything but perfect. “Do I look like a perfect woman right now?”

“‘Course you do.” Kyle brings his other hand close and, for a moment, you think he’s going to hold your hand. Instead, he plucks away the cigarette hanging lazily between your fingers. “Smoking’s not a good look, though.”

“They’re your cigarettes.”

“Ah, that’s neither here nor there.” He takes a puff of his own before leaning forward to stub out the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table. “Never said I was perfect, did I?”

“You seem to have your shit together better than me.” You throw your tissue towards a bin Kyle had brought near the sofa once your crying had started. “I’m an idiot for not listenin’ to you.”

“Well, beatin’ yourself up over it isn’t gonna solve anythin’.”

“But it’s true. You warn me all the time about these guys. It’s either one boring date or a hookup just for…mediocre sex. At best.” Kyle scoffs at that. “And…then it’s over.”

Leaning back against the sofa, you run your hands over your face again. Frustration gnaws at you, tugging at the back of your mind and filling you with some unnamed emotion that makes everything feel bitter. It wasn’t Kyle’s fault for not knowing why you were so hard on yourself. It’s not like he knew it was him you were trying to replace.

You huff an exasperated sigh. “I’m just…frustrated. I can’t remember the last time a guy made me feel…good. Made me feel wanted.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Kyle nods his head in thought like he’s debating his inner monologue. He settles back against the sofa next to you. 

“I can.”

Two simple words and yet they make your heart feel like it’ll jump out of your chest. Choking on your breath felt preferable to meeting his gaze. 

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh, but you aren’t sure it’s because you found it funny. 

His hand finds its way to your thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through your sweatpants. “You could have that again, you know. We could have that again.” You almost hate how hopeful he sounds.

You aren’t sure what to say. It must show on your face, you figure, when you notice his smile from the corner of your eye.

It would be a total and utter lie to pretend you haven’t thought about the possibility a million times over. As if you haven’t had to remember the way his touch felt so you could get yourself off when every other man couldn’t. But every time, without fail, the nastiest guilt would purge those thoughts away, ashamed of yourself for thinking about something he never seemed to bother remembering. 

But now he was proposing to do it all over again. And you wanted to. You wanted to so badly.

“Kyle…” Your throat is dry when you finally manage to utter the words. “I thought you…I assumed it was just a one-time thing…”

“It doesn’t have t’be.”

Of course it does, you want to argue. It wasn’t fair the way his touch had you yearning for something you shouldn’t want. But the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to fight it. 

His soft voice fills the silence as his thumb brushes over your thigh. “It’s what you deserve; someone who can make you feel good. And wanted.”

“I thought you only did that because I was…frustrated.”

“Mm. And you’re frustrated now, aren’t you?” 

It’s a simple question, but his tone is dulcet and sweet like he’s trying to seduce you. Truthfully, you feared it was working. Goddamn tease.

“I…suppose you could say that.” You concede, almost fighting the smile forming on your lips.

Kyle’s hand slides off of your thigh before snaking behind you, slotting perfectly on your curves as his arm wraps around your waist. “It certainly seems that way to me.” He leans in closer and your heart leaps into your throat when the warmth of his breath hits your cheek. “I don’t mind helpin’ you out again.”

You hope he doesn’t notice how tense you are, how your lips quiver as you finally bring yourself to speak. “Are…are you serious..?”

A small laugh escapes him as he pulls you closer. His lips press small, gentle kisses on the underside of your jaw, each one sending a shiver down your spine. You can practically feel the blood pumping hurriedly through your veins. He didn’t have to say anything to tell you how serious he was.

Heat pools in your core when his other hand slides up your thigh. More insistent than the last time, his fingers rub and knead at the pliant flesh hidden beneath your clothes. Your nerves come alight, sensitive to every brush of his fingers as they move inward on your body.

You tilt your head enough to catch Kyle’s attention. Placing a hand on his cheek when his nose brushes yours, you impatiently close the gap between your mouths. It’s a gentle kiss, but there’s an undoubtable hunger in it. Almost instantly, you feel the tension leave your body, replaced by an insatiable need that gnaws at your core.

He completely bombarded your senses. His smell in your nostrils, his touch on your curves, his taste on your lips—everything about him had your head spinning. It’s too much and too little all at the same time.

The movement of your hips was an impulsive one; a plea for him to hurry up or give you more. The whine that left you was a pathetic sound that escaped your mouth and filled his.

You could feel Kyle smile against you, his grip on your waist tightening. “Christ, you’re really impatient, huh?”

“Shut up, Kyle,” you pant. He wasn’t wrong; your patience was worn thin at this point. It was almost torturous to feel so needy.

“Easy, baby,” he coos against your lips. As riled up as you were, calming down wasn’t a simple ask, but you willed yourself to listen. The way he spoke to you made your body want to obey his every command. “I know what you need.”

When his mouth meets yours for another series of hungry kisses, you could feel his hand move higher up your thigh. His touch was intentionally light, a tease to leave you wanting more. And it did. It took everything in your power to keep still when his fingertips brushed over the space between your thighs.

But you couldn’t stop yourself when his hand finally dipped beneath the waistband of your sweatpants. You could feel how slick and desperate you were before his fingertips brushed over your panties. He groans into your mouth when he finds the wetness seeping through the fabric, cupping your cunt to feel you squirm.

“Oh, you poor thing. You needed this so bad, didn’t you?” You can almost sense some sincerity in his tease. Almost. 

You’re moaning against his lips before you can form your own tease. Kyle’s touch grows more insistent, his fingers dragging up and down your wet panties until he starts gently circling your clit. Your nails dig into his arm, hips rocking into his makeshift rhythm. Already sensitive from being neglected, the rough and wet fabric against your clit leaves you whining and groaning pathetically under his touch.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so needy.” You could hear the smile in his voice. Your heavy eyes watch his gaze rake over your body to ogle the way your legs spread. 

“Don’t…don’t tease me, Ky…” You groan between broken breaths and gasps. Your hips roll eagerly, bucking against the steady pressure of his fingertips. “C’mon, touch me. Please.”

You don’t mean to whine when his hand slides out from underneath your clothes. “Really impatient, aren’t we?” He mutters under his breath like he hadn’t meant for you to hear him before settling his hand on your hip. “I told you, I know what you need.”

You don’t get the chance to ask him to hurry up before he’s pulling your hips along the sofa cushions, guiding your body until you’re laid out on the furniture. You trusted him—even when you weren’t ferociously horny for his touch, you trusted him—and knew he’d make the wait worth it.

His fingers hook on the hem of your sweatpants, tugging it and your panties down your outstretched legs. The cool air hits your wet flesh and sends goosebumps over your skin. Your clothes are discarded somewhere on the floor before Kyle settles between your legs, bent down and crunched on the sofa until his face is level with your cunt.

Arms wrapped around your thighs, he kisses along the soft skin, alternating sides and nipping occasionally to feel the muscle underneath tense. As impatient as you were, you watched with rapt attention as his eyes focused on your slick cunt, sensitive enough to twitch every time you felt his breath hit.

One of his hands runs over your thigh until his rough fingertips are spreading you open. He smiles, smirking as if proud of himself. “You missed me, huh?”

You didn’t know if that was a comment on your impatience or how wet you were. Maybe both. “Maybe…just a li’l…” You pant, shivering when his warm breath ghosts over your clit as he laughs.

“Oh, I know you did. You’re fuckin’ dripping, love.”

Kyle’s eyes meet yours before his head dips down and his tongue sticks out to lick a slow stripe up your slit. The wet friction takes your breath away, nails digging into the cushion beneath you to ground yourself. His tongue spreads you apart, lapping at your arousal and gliding over your most sensitive parts.

“You taste just as good as I remember.” His words are muffled against your cunt, almost immediately drowned out by his wet slurps and your moans.

The flat of his tongue circles around your clit before gently sucking it into his mouth. The pressure already has your legs twitching and tensing, shockwaves of pleasure shooting through every nerve. He guides one of your legs up, propped against the back cushion of the sofa, before running his hand down your thigh. 

Fingertips gently caress your cunt, gliding through the mess of your arousal and his saliva, teasing and circling your hole. Two thick digits push inside and the sudden stretch has your hands flying towards Kyle, fingers digging into his short curls, desperate for some part of him to hold on to.

It’s been far too long since you felt this good. Eight months too long. The attention was almost unfamiliar; something overwhelmingly delicious that only he seemed to give you. The way he sucks on your clit while his fingers pump and curl just right makes your head fall back against the armrest. You can feel yourself squeezing his fingers and throbbing against his tongue, that ache in the pit of your stomach already beginning to form.

Kyle groans before sliding his mouth off of you. “Easy, baby. Fuck, you’re grippin’ so tight…” A gentle kiss lands on the inside of your thigh as his fingers curl again. “None of your li’l boyfriends touched you like this, did they?”

If you were any more coherent, you might have said something about how jealous he sounded. But that wasn’t the point right now; right now all you were focused on was how deep his fingers hit, and how right he was.

You shake your head. “No…not like this. Not this good,” you manage to admit between moans.

“Not this good,” he echoes, proudly whispering to himself, before his head dips down again.

His lips latch around your clit again, suckling and running his tongue over it until your hips start to buck. The sounds are disgustingly lewd; wet squelches with every thrust of his fingers, the sloppy sounds of his mouth, and your wanton moans—it’s everything you’d been fantasizing about since the last time he had you. 

Your eyes flutter open as you lift your head off of the armrest. Seeing Kyle, barely fitting himself on the sofa just to ravage you, makes you tighten around his fingers. “Holy shit, Ky. I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum,” you warn, panting breathlessly. Your toes curl, thighs tensing at the mounting heat in your core.

“Already? Oh, that’s a good girl,” he growls against your cunt. “Cum f’me. C’mon, show me how much you missed me.”

The hunger in his eyes makes you shudder. You were already close to the edge, but with his encouragement, you completely fell apart. With another swirl of his tongue and a harsh thrust of his fingers, your body goes taut with pleasure. The ecstasy that you’ve denied yourself for far too long shoots through your veins until your thighs are shaking.

Kyle hums contentedly at the tightness surrounding his fingers before easing them out. He quickly replaces the emptiness with his tongue, spreading you apart and lapping at your slick cum. He doesn’t pull back until you start to whine. With heavy eyes and a heaving chest, you watch him settle back on his knees, noting the way his lips and chin glisten. 

That unmistakable hunger—desire and determination mixed—is still clear as day in his eyes. He leans over you, lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, and the taste and smell of yourself floods your senses. You reach out for him, twisting your fingers into his shirt to keep him close.

He groans into your mouth, the mess of tongue and teeth complimented by the sound. His hands find your waist, pushing your shirt up and sliding under layers until he can paw at your chest. You almost whine when one of his hands moves off of you until you hear the metallic jangle of his belt buckle coming undone.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you and your eyes immediately dart to his hand to watch him impatiently tug down his pants. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen his cock, but seeing it now—thick and heavy and warm as it brushes against your skin—makes all the memories from the first time flood your mind. And knowing how good he made you feel before only made you that much more eager.

Kyle wraps a hand around himself, giving his cock a few firm pumps before guiding it towards your wet slit. The head of his cock spreads your cunt and brushes against your sensitive clit with each roll of his hips. You can hear how wet you are, how you coat him in your slick with every movement, and you shudder when he groans.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you’re needy,” he sighs. His hand, still kneading your chest under your shirt, slides down to grip your waist firmly. “God, I could look at you like this all day.”

“C’mon…Don’t make me beg.” You coo, trying to coax him as your legs hook over his hips.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.”

“Kyle.”

“You had no problem waitin’ eight months. You can wait a bit longer, right?”

“I swear to God, Kyle, just fuck me—”

Your own shaky moan interrupts your speech, ripped from your throat as Kyle suddenly pushes the head of his cock past your entrance. He leans down to plant a chaste kiss on the side of your parted lips.

“Gotta work on your patience, love.”

You can feel every inch as he slowly eases his thick cock into you. With nails digging into the sofa cushions to ground you amidst the delicious stretch, both of you moan when he finally bottoms out. He stills long enough for you to feel the way your slick walls flutter around him.

Thumbs press gently into the dip of your hips in a reassuring squeeze. “You alright?” He asks, scanning your face for approval. A pathetic nod and an ‘uh-huh’ that sounds more like a whimper escapes your lips. “Nearly forgot how perfect you feel.”

Kyle leans back on his knees, straightening up with a devilish smirk and an even hungrier look in his eye. His pace is slow when he finally begins to rock his hips back and forth. He watches your body intently; ogling at the way your cunt swallows every inch of him, savoring the way you mold around him, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort. 

You moan on every downstroke as he fills you with every slow thrust, the head of his cock pushing just right against that sweet spot deep inside. Still so slick and sensitive from your recent orgasm, every nerve feels alight—addicted to the fullness and the way his cock twitches inside you. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine as your hands search him out, desperate to be even closer. You can feel his muscles tense when your hands run up his arms and hold onto him tightly. “God, you fill me so good…so fuckin’ deep.”

Kyle makes a sound at that, something between a laugh and a groan. “I know, baby,” he coos softly, encouraging your touch when he leans back to pull his shirt off over his head.

There’s no hiding the way you tighten around him when you see his bare skin. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, but something about watching his muscles tense with every push of his hips made your head spin. He leans closer, just enough for you to reach your hands out and splay your fingers over his chest.

“I needed you so fucking badly.�� The confession tumbles from your lips without thought, forced out alongside a moan that proves how true it was. “You make me feel so good. I never—shit—never should’ve looked for someone else.”

His jaw goes tight, a low grunt in the back of his throat his only reply to your admission. His gaze drops from your face to watch where his hips meet yours, but judging by the way his chest rises with heavier, deeper breaths, you aren’t so sure it’s because he’s uncomfortable. 

He’s holding back. 

The thought sends a shiver down your spine and your hips buck in his direction on the next agonizingly slow thrust. “I missed you so much, Kyle.” It wasn’t a lie—your body’s reaction to him was more than enough proof of that—but you wanted to see him let go, to stop being so gentle and kind like he always was. “C’mon, fuck me like you missed me too.”

That does the trick.

Kyle mutters a swear under his breath as his hands move to grab the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs towards your chest. Your hands fall to the sofa cushion at the sudden change in position. His hips slam against yours, one foot planted on the floor so he has complete control as he drives his cock all the way within you. There’s no more finesse, no more charm—just pure need.

Hearing the way you yelp and whine at his newfound desperation makes him curse under his breath again. “I missed you…so fuckin’ much,” he grunts, the words coming out as more of a growl. “Christ, I needed this. Been needin’ you all this time. I couldn’t stop…thinkin’ about you.”

That confession makes your head swim—you wonder if this is how he felt hearing your own admission of missing him. You’d thought about the last encounter countless times, but you never would’ve thought it meant as much to him as it did. The way he pounded into you now made you convinced that he craved this just as badly as you did.

“Yeah?” You whine, smiling pathetically at him. “Oh, God, me too. I needed this, needed you.”

When his eyes meet yours, you see nothing but determination behind his gaze, feral and hungry and needy. His hands dig into the plump skin of your thighs as he holds your legs in place. “Did you think of me when they fucked you? Huh? Did you have to think about my hands? My cock?”

All you can do is nod, frantic and hurried, as a pathetic “uh-huh” is forced from your lungs. Heat pools at the bottom of your stomach, tugging at your sensitive insides with every quick punch of his cock deep inside.

Kyle groans, a deep, guttural sound that makes your slick walls flutter around him. “Yeah, they didn’t make you feel this good, did they? No one can make you feel like I do. No one fills this pretty pussy like I do, huh?”

You can’t even form a proper response, your mind blanking. Your eyes roll back, head lying against the armrest, every muscle so tense yet malleable to his will. Your lack of a response was enough proof he was right; no one else stretched and filled you the way he did. 

You hear him curse again before he speaks through gritted teeth. “I would’ve given you this…any-fucking-time you wanted it. Whenever you needed me.”

Finally releasing the sofa cushion, your hands seek out the warmth of his skin, fingers curling against his arms. You could feel yourself tensing, your cunt hugging every inch of him as he slid in and out. “Ky, I’m…I’m gonna c-cum again—fuck.”

You could almost feel his stare boring through you when his grip tightens on the skin of your thighs. “That’s it, gimme one more. C’mon,” Kyle groans through his encouragement, “I’ve waited eight goddamn months. I need to feel you cum on my cock again.”

You bite your lip to hold back the pathetic moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. It was all wanton and needy—involuntary sounds pushed out of your lungs with every deep, rough thrust. The squelching of your cunt welcoming his cock fills your ears, his skin hitting yours with a satisfying slap each time.

“Let me hear you,” he coaxes, almost desperate. “I know you’re close, baby, you’re gettin’ so tight.”

It didn’t take his encouragement for another set of choked moans to slip past your lips. It was harder and harder to hold back, to fight off the mounting pressure in your core. “Fuck, Kyle, s’too much…”

“S’alright, I got you. Just cum one more time f’me, baby. Just one more.”

Maybe it was his encouragement, maybe it was the possessiveness underlying his tone, maybe it was the way his cock hit so perfectly deep, maybe it was because he was the first guy to make you feel good in months. Whatever the reason was, when you came for the second time, you felt that pleasure in every inch of your body.

Every muscle tenses, taut with pleasure as waves of ecstasy flow through you, flooding every nerve. Your nails dig into his skin and your toes curl until you’re left shaking. Your cunt hugs every inch of him, pulsing and milking him for all that he’s worth as he slowly fucks you through the high with stuttered thrusts.

“That’s it, there you go,” you hear him pant at one point. “Keep going, baby, give it to me.”

Kyle’s own sounds are barely audible as your moans fill the air, but he curses and groans as he watches your body tense and throb and twitch. The obscenely lewd sound of your squelching cunt is even more obvious now with the slick cum coating his cock. 

Just as the last tremors of your orgasm start to fade, he pulls out hastily with a groan. He releases your legs from his grip, and the ache you know you’ll feel soon is pushed to the back of your mind when he leans down to plant a kiss on your lips. 

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, at your flushed sweaty skin, to watch you pant and barely have the energy to look back up at him. “God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

Planting another kiss on your lips, you can feel Kyle shift to wrap a hand around himself. Stroking himself steadily between your legs, his breathing grows heavier between each kiss, the wet sound of his cock covered in your cum sliding against his palm hitting your ears. It’s not until you reach down into the space between your bodies that he stops.

You don’t stop kissing him as you nudge his hand off of his cock to replace his rough, calloused touch with your much softer one. He grunts almost immediately, hips bucking into your hand as it wraps snugly around him. You try to mimic the pace he had set, pumping the length of his cock, the slick of your cum making the movement fluid and easy. 

“Fuck, just like that…” His hands reach past you to grab the cushion beneath your body. You catch a glance of him, watching his eyebrows knit tight on his forehead, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

His breath hits your skin, warm and heavy, sending a shiver down your spine as he moans and grunts. His hips stutter as he bucks into your hand a final time, cock twitching as his cum hits your stomach. Your hand works out every drop until he's wincing and pulling his hips away. 

There are a few beats of silence, the only sound being the two sets of heavy breaths as you both come down from a much-needed high. Though your senses start to come back and your body grounds itself against the sofa cushions and his skin, it still doesn’t feel real somehow. But despite being an unbelievable act, you don’t feel any regret this time. 

Kyle’s the first one to move, eventually pulling back enough to look down at you. “Feel better?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Even through heavy eyes, you can’t miss the way he smiles. He sits back on his knees to tuck his softening cock back into his pants and you watch as his eyes study the mess on your stomach before you look at it yourself. Just the sight of his cum pooling on your skin sends warmth directly to your core. He leans over to the table, grabbing what few tissues were left after your earlier crying spells, to clean the mess he’d left on you.

Nothing but silence for a moment as Kyle carefully runs the tissue over your stomach as you bask in the afterglow. It’s all the reassurance about him that you need. There’s an unspoken desire in the warmth of his eyes, in the way he looks at you and caresses your skin like you’re worthy of worship. The way he makes you feel—wanted—has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You eventually break the silence with a sigh. “Thank you, Kyle. I…I do feel better. A lot better.”

“Good. That’s good.” He only looks up to throw the soiled tissues in the bin next to the sofa. “Sorry for, uh…Y’know, makin’ you a mess.” He gestures to the lower half of your body with a shrug.

You raise an eyebrow at that. “Wasn’t that your intention?”

That makes him smile. A shy, almost nervous smile that you aren’t sure you’ve ever seen him wear. “You got me.” One last swipe of the soft tissue against your skin to ensure you’re clean. “At least I’m cleanin’ you up afterward.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just a proper gentleman?”

Your sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed. “Hey, I bet those other blokes never bothered.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you roll your eyes at his sentiment. “That’s because those blokes never bothered to make me cum in the first place.” You have to smile at him, at the way he cringes at himself for bringing up your previous partners. “If you want reassurance, you’ve got it. They’ve got nothin’ on you, Garrick.”

“I know, I know. I jus’ like to hear you say it.” Kyle leans down, meeting you halfway for a kiss that’s much softer yet holds the weight of the world behind. His hands skirt over your hips before trailing up your naked skin and resting on your waist. “You need a proper wash. C’mon.”

The ache in your muscles starts to set in as the bliss slowly fades. You groan at the stiffness in your knees when he pulls you up with him to stand on your feet. There’s sweat drying on your back, a familiar stickiness between your legs, and your feet feel unsteady.

But Kyle wraps an arm around you to keep you from stumbling and wobbling on your way to the restroom. His fingertips glided over your skin, tracing curves and dips with reverent ease. He held you like you were porcelain, even after you were in the water. 

Many things could be said about Kyle. Most of them circled back to his generosity, his willingness to help, even when you felt like an unwanted burden. But he gave you everything you could ever want. And maybe one day you’ll realize it’s because he needs your helping hands just as much as you need his. 

[biolumien]

Hi Hi! first time requesting like this and I just recently finished watching the latest episode of Kaiju number 8. I was wondering if your could write something for Vice Captain Hoshina.

I was thinking something along the lines of a reincarnation storyline? Maybe Reader is a renowned painter or something. And one day they come across a dream of Hoshina in their past life and they paint his face. And Hoshina is suddenly bombarded by a few officers/cadets a few days later about a sudden article blowing up online with a painting that had extremely similar structure to his face. And maybe they'd end up meeting because of it?

I love your writing. Particularly the one with the glasses reader that I read a few days back. You're free to change things as you see fit. And I'm sure whatever you come up with will be very nice. Sorry if my words are confusing. I don't speak english language that well. 😊👌 Thank you if you decide to write for this ask.

notes: ok the way i am. actually obsessed with this i hope you enjoy!!

every 'one line' drawn.

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader no warnings, i think wc: 1768

in your dreams, you always see the same face. red eyes watching your face, purple hair framed over his face and the feeling of a callused hand on your hand, on your cheek. and every time he leans into kiss you, you find yourself pressing your face closer to his, as if desperate, and then you wake up. 

and when you wake up, you always feel the telltale trickle of a tear down your face, the feeling of salt on your tongue. 

there’s no time to wonder what the dreams ever mean, what with your job as a painter. you lived commission to commission—and while your customers were always high brow and paid generously, still meant that you couldn’t be lost in daydreams forever. 

and in your studio, with the pungent smell of turpentine and linseed oil, with your hands inevitably smeared with oil paints, it was easy to forget the stranger whose hands felt rough and weary, and yet held your face with measured gentleness. it was easy to forget him—up until you went back to bed, and you’d always be back in the same dream. 

“i keep seeing you,” you murmur in your dream. “who are you?” 

the man laughs. 

he seems sad, for a second. 

“a dear friend,” he responds. you see it on his face, the way his lips twist at his words, that it’s not quite true. and he leans in again, watching your face. “it’s okay if you don’t remember me.” 

“but i do,” you say in protest. you think you remember this face. “i want to.” 

you must remember this face, surely—this face that, upon your words, looks sadder. and then you wonder if he’s even real—or if this is simply your subconscious, saddened that you can’t remember. saddened that your mind replays this moment, again and again, a repeated brushstroke pulling open the blank canvas underneath. 

“we all want things we can’t have, sometimes,” the man says. 

he leans into kiss you, 

and you jolt up out of bed, awakening to a phone call from your manager. 

“hello…?” you mumble into your phone, pressing it against your cheek as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “it’s rare you call me randomly like this…” 

“tis no random call,” your manager responds. “you’ve received a request to exhibit some of your works from a museum. will you do it? i hear the pay’s pretty good.”

“mmm… any specific theme?” you ask. 

“not really. they said to let your imagination go wild.” 

“hm.” 

you touch your lips, and when you close your eyes, you see a hint of those crimson eyes again. 

“alright. i think i’ve got a pretty good muse this time,” you say. 

[…]

hoshina wasn’t exactly someone who was very in the know about art. his job, for one, meant that it’s not like he would exactly be interested in art in general, and it’s not like he was even spending his days off on art museum trips or admiring the local art scene. 

so why was it that everyone seemed all abuzz about art today?

and why did it seem like there were more eyes on him than before? not that he particularly abhorred attention or anything, but the eyes seemed to be looking at his face specifically. 

his eyes flit to some of the new officer recruits—iharu, reno, kafka… fuck, even haruichi and aoi? what the hell was going on—huddled around a laptop. haruichi’s brow furrows as he stares at the illuminated screen, and then flits up to look at hoshina. when hoshina stares back, harder, haruichi’s gaze immediately ducks back to the laptop.  

okay. 

well, something was definitely up. 

hoshina strolls over to the recruits, who immediately seem to start panicking—the panic is written across kafka’s face more obviously than the others, and reno elbows kafka in the side. 

“what’s all this about? if you’ve got time to huddle you’ve got time to run laps—” hoshina starts, leaning over at the screen before—

“about that, vice captain,” iharu says. 

hoshina’s in stunned silence staring at the screen, because… isn’t that—

“holy shit,” hoshina says. 

“holy shit indeed,” haruichi says grimly. 

on haruichi’s laptop screen is a painting of— him. hoshina’s damned face, brows gentle and a softened smile on his face. it was a beautiful painting, and yet—there was something sad about the smile, the brows belying deep sorrow. 

“this painter’s pretty well-known, too, aren’t they?” kafka asks. “for like… the psychedelic stuff.” 

“no,” reno says. “they’re like our modern-day monet or something. impressionist paintings.” 

“impressi-what? how do you know this much about art, reno?” iharu asks, wrapping his arm around reno’s neck in a headlock. reno coughs, slapping iharu’s arm. 

“shut up,” reno chokes out, but even as the bickering picks up, hoshina’s gaze is still transfixed on the painting. 

it’s him. no doubt about it. 

“i’ve never talked to them before,” hoshina says after a moment. at once the arguments rattle to a halt, but in the empty relief of silence is the carved truth—that the painting is definitely of him, and its painter was a person who he’d never talked to before in his life. 

“the artist is going to be doing a panel about their exhibition soon,” haruichi says, glancing up at hoshina. “i think they can get me a ticket if i ask.” 

“… just don’t expect me to lighten your laps around the training course,” hoshina says with a chuckle. 

[…]

you hated speaking in front of an audience. cliche, of course, the introverted artist that squirrels away in in their studio—but that was often your reality. you liked to say you wanted your work to ‘speak for itself’, as it were, so you didn’t often make public appearances. 

but your most recent exhibition, featuring the painting of your mysterious dream visitor, created far more buzz than you could have asked for. suddenly everyone and anyone wanted an answer as for who your muse was, why he had a very striking resemblance to soshiro hoshina of the japan anti-kaiju defense force’s third division, and had you gotten permission from hoshina to do it? did you have a specific message surrounding your work?

“just stick to the script,” your manager says to you. “i talked it through with some of the reporters and i wrote some answers for you if you’re scared.” he hands you a slip of paper, and your eyes scan the page, and you swallow the lump in forming in your throat. 

“i shouldn’t have done the painting after all,” you say.

it was strange. in the days and weeks you’d worked on the painting, you hadn’t seen your muse in your dreams at all. you’d been forced to rely on only the memory of the dream–which only seemed to get fuzzier and fuzzier until it became barely a wisp. and now, in those ensuing weeks that the painting has been on exhibition, you almost felt embarrassed of the painting–its vague subject matter might have been charming and a little kitsch, but charming and a little kitsch wasn’t supposed to garner this much attention.

“nonsense,” your manager says. “it’s a wonderful painting.” he pushes you by the back, gently urging you forward. “they’re ready for you.”

you push past the door separating you from the reporters–and then are immediately flashbanged with cameras and lights, and jumbling, layered voices creating a discordant symphony that made you wince.

“um. thank you… for…” you wince as your grip fumbles on your microphone, nearly dropping it, the feedback screeching across speakers. “um. sorry. i’m not exactly the best public speaker–my repertoire of events… like this, isn’t many. but thank you for attending this panel… surrounding my exhibition of my latest work. i’ll answer… a few questions.”

the reporters looked like a jumbled blob for the most part–a thrumming organism of similar faces that melted together into one homogenous mess, a splotch of badly-mixed paint on the palette that you’d scrape away with a knife and discard. 

reciting your manager’s written responses wasn’t the hard part. as you continued to banter, your eyes swept across the crowd.

what were you even doing here?

you wanted to crawl back to your studio, already, and go back to painting. at least then the idea that you’d dreamed up some man who bore a striking resemblance to someone who already existed would fade away with time. and then your eyes found that telltale shade of crimson and purple–for just a moment. and you think his eyes meet yours, too–crimson eyes the exact shade as the one in your dreams. 

his eyes widen. 

“... as you were saying?” a reporter’s words float back to your ears, ephemeral, and you pause.

“can we… no more questions.” you shake your head, finding your vision swimming, blurring, and you raise a hand wiping tears from your face. “sorry. something just… came up–”

and you push into the crowd, trying to find the face from your dreams.

that had to be him, right? his face? it was like as soon as you saw him, the underpainting of your memories flowed back to you–a heartaching loss pounding in your chest. something was wrong. something was missing, because you’d forgotten–and now that you’d remembered it, it hurt. 

“i’m sorry,” you say. 

“you’ve nothing to be sorry for,” the man says to you, and leans in to kiss you. “i’ll find you again in the next life.”

“i’ll remember you,” you say. 

the man watches you, a somewhat sad look on his face.

you press your thumb to the corner of his lip.

“and when i do, i’ll do something big. to capture your attention. and then your eyes will be on me forever.”

you finally manage to catch the man in the crowd, and you realize you’ve seen him before. only once or twice, though–on a small poster or on television. soshiro hoshina, of the third division. you did know this man–but just barely.

he lets out a surprised noise as soon as you collide with him, and you gasp breathlessly. 

“i’m sorry,” you say, looking up at hoshina. ���i just… have we…”

“met?” hoshina answers your question, cocking his head, blinking down at you.

“yes,” you say. “i think… i think so. maybe. we… you look familiar.”

hoshina blinks, and then smiles.

it’s so different than the way he smiled at you in your dream. the corners of his lips quirk up, his eyebrows relax almost as he watches you. 

“i thought so too,” hoshina says, and you hear relief in his voice. “so… um. hi.”

“hi,” you respond, and he laughs.

[pwinkprincess]

hello!!! i hope ur having a lovely day! <3

i would like to request a nanami fic. maybe using the one bed trope??

thank you! XOXO

nanami has always preferred to do things alone. living, cooking, sleeping, organizing, everything needs to be done precisely and in his preferred way. working was also something he enjoyed doing on his lonesome. the way nanami moved was meticulous and it left no room for error. he enjoyed taking his time to learn his footwork and his abilities. as dreadful as being a sorcerer is, he has to find enjoyment in the littlest things.

“nami! i can’t open this!” you’re pouting and groaning in irritation while you struggle to open your can of cola. he glances to his side, you’re trying to use the tips of your fingers instead of your nails due to them being so long and squared.

“i told you to stop getting them so long.” he’s grumbling while taking one hand off of the steering wheel to open the can for you. once you hear the satisfying pop, a bright smile plays onto your pretty lips. 

“thank you, nami!” you smile excitedly while taking the can back.

he didn’t reply, only giving you a hum to let you know he heard you. you’re a nice girl, you remind him of something sweet. your personality is so bubbly and energizing, something nanami is completely polar of. even after months of working with you as both his partner and your mentor, he could never get used to you. you’re like a sweet slap in the face, he had stigmatized that the earth is cruel and evil years ago. and then here you go, prancing around all pink and glittery. 

when he first saw you, he thought you were a teenager, to give you some lead way; fresh out of high school. his eyebrows almost touched his hairline when he learned that you were actually well into your 20’s. you’re just a few years younger than him. he remembers complaining to yaga, to the higher ups, he was even so devastated that he found it in him to complain to gojo. 

“i’ve never needed a partner. i sure as hell don’t need one now.” he told gojo as he downed his fourth shot of whiskey. “and一and she’s just so fuckin’ opposite.” he complained. his pale cheeks were flushed red and there were small beads of sweat formed around his hairline.  

gojo has his infamous smirk on his lips as he listens to his ‘friend’ rant. “maybe that’s what you need, kento.” gojo tells him, honestly. “a reminder that you’re not even goddamn 30 yet. live a little.” 

if they wanted him to live a little they should’ve given him a vacation to the beach or something of that sort. that’s how nanami sees it, anyway. 

while you are just the sweetest thing, you sometimes are a lot to deal with. your attention span is too short, you become emotional when things don’t go your way, and you shut down too easily. nanami finds himself having to pick up the pieces alot when it comes to you. especially with you two being partners and the missions can sometimes be months long. something so delicate, hosts something so fiery inside. he’s seen you during battle. when a curse is taking too long to exterminate, when a mission drags on longer than told, when you accidentally break a nail from punching too hard. all those things tie together and create an absolute beast. he had almost felt foolish for doubting you the first time the two of you had gone on your first official mission together.

“nami.” your soft voice rings through his ears. he had a bad habit of zoning out, especially while driving. it’s become habitual to call out his name every now and then to make sure he’s actually focused. 

“i’m here.” those two words carry two meanings as he pulls into the hotel parking lot.

the two of you step out of the car. you stand beside nanami, watching as he pulls out his solid black duffel bag along with your hello kitty duffle bag. you continue mindlessly sipping on your coke even while he has to use his hip to close the door because his hands are full.

“you’re too good to carry your own bag?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

“yup.” you make sure to pop the p. he can only glare at you. with a bright, unaffected smile, you blissfully ignore his intense, piercing glare and walk towards the entrance of the hotel. you stride confidently, with nanami towing closely behind you.

you walk up to the front desk and begin talking to the receptionist. she appears noticeably young, perhaps younger than both of you. her face is dotted with a variety of moles, along with a few faint acne scars. her upturned hazel-green eyes are striking, despite the dark circles beneath them. the contrast between her youthful features and the weariness in her gaze has you intrigued. you were a complete sucker for pretty girls. 

“we do have one more room available, but there’s only one bed.” she tells you two. her eyes sweep between the two of you hesitantly as she breaks the news.

both you and nanami freeze at her. usually, you would both get your own rooms and meet back up in the morning. instantly, there’s a pout on your face. the cheerfulness and confidence you once walked into the lobby with is quickly gone.

“how far away is the next closest hotel?” you ask.

“about forty minutes.” she replies.

you look behind you, at nanami; who seems to be calculating something. “what are we gonna do, nami?” you’re frowning and your tone holds a silver of frustration.

“we’re going to take the room. i get the bed and you get the couch.” is all he says. he steps up to give her the money.

minutes later the both of you are walking to your designated hotel room. nanami holds a look of nonchalance while you’re all pouty and frowning. 

he ignores it, he’s gotten so used to it. he knows your little attitude won’t last forever. something else will soon take your attention and you’ll soon forget about how upset you were seconds ago. once the two of you make it to the door, he slots the keycard inside of the lock and watches the red light flash green. he allows you to walk in first and trails closely behind you.

the room is spacious and inviting, a large king bed lies in the middle of the room, draped in crisp, high thread count linens and a plush, oversized duvet. soft lighting creates a warm ambiance, while large windows offer a stunning view of the cityscape surroundings. in the far corner,  a plush, deep set couch padded in soft, rich fabric, inviting everyone to sink into its comfort. the couch is surrounded by a pair of stylish armchairs.

“this is the best room so far!” you’re excitedly bouncing around and touching everything. you can barely stay in one spot before you’re moving onto the next. you open a door that leads to the bathroom. you let out an excited squeal when you see how big the bathroom is. “they have those drop-in bathtub things!”

you skip to nanami and grab you duffel bag out of his hands. “i’m gonna go shower!” you tell nanami before running back inside the bathroom.

𓊆ྀི ❤︎ 𓊇ྀི

“nami! jus’ lay down! i’ll sleep at the headboard and you sleep at the foot of the bed.” you try to negotiate with the man. this has been going on for a few minutes and you were beginning to grow irritated.

“the couch is fine. it’s big enough and it looks quite comfortable.” he declines.

“i’m gonna cry.” you threaten him.

“are you really going to cry because i prefer the couch?” nanami asks with both amusement and frustration. he was growing tired and wanted nothing more than to lay down at the moment.

“this is a large bed! i won’t be able to forgive myself if you sleep on the couch.” you explain to him.

nanami just sighs and stares at you. you stand there with your arms crossed, not giving up on wanting him to sleep on the bed also.he’s sure that if just goes and lay down on the couch you’d follow him and complain until he caves in to get you to be quiet. 

“alright.. alright.” he mumbles as he goes to the foot of the bed, far away from where you’d be laying. 

the both of you climb into bed with your backs toward each other. you’re facing the now covered windows while he faces the door. 

“g’night, nami.” you tell him sleepily.

“goodnight.” he replies.

𓊆ྀི ❤︎ 𓊇ྀི

nanami should’ve known. his eyes sleepily flutter open, he could feel your body greedily rubbing against his. your leg is thrown over his so that your clothed cunt could rub against his hardening dick. you’re letting out gaspy moans every time your clit gets captured against the tip of his cock. your face rests in the crook of his neck, dribbles of spit escape past your lips and land on his neck only for you to lap it back up. 

“sweetheart..” nanami trails off tiredly. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good but you two had to get up extremely early and when you don’t have enough hours of sleep, you turn into a little demon.

“i-i know.” you whine. “‘s gonna be the last time, n-nami. i jus’ need you.” you sniffle. 

everytime is you two have sex you try to reassure nanami that it would be the last time. he knows you’re lying and he can’t tell if you say and genuinely mean it or if you say it to just quiet him down. he should’ve known when you begged him to sleep in the bed with you that you were up to something. 

“i need you!” you repeat stubbornly. 

he huffs to himself as his fingers slide down under your flimsy shorts. you thumb makes contact with your clit and you’re instantly bucking yourself against his hand instead. you’re so wet, you already have his fingers covered with your arousal. 

“don’t wan’ your fingers, nami. wan’ your cock!” you don’t wait for him to reply to your statement. your hands greedily dig into his sweatpants and fish for his cock. when your hands come in contact with his length, he shudders and lets out a low curse.

“greedy girl.” he tsks. he helps you shuffle his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to be freed. “no prep?” he asks in worry. you need it so bad that you’re shaking your head no. you continue to lap at his skin, leaving marks onto him. with shaky hands, nanami tugs your shorts off of your legs and slides your panties to the side. “look at me.”

you raise your head and search for his hardened eyes. the second you two make eye contact, his lips latch onto yours. he hungrily keeps his lips pressed against yours as he lines his thick cock up to your leaking hole. he slowly pushes himself into you, the both of you gasp and moan into each others mouths as you become one.

he doesn’t keep a steady rhythm for long, the second his pelvis slaps against your ass he speeds up. he’s serious about getting some amount of sleep so that you two could be well rested for tomorrow’s mission. he continues to thumb at your clit while he thrusts into you.

“mnghhh! s-shit.” you moan out once the two of you pull away. nanami’s eyes glance down at your spit glossed lips, you look so delicious like this. 

“pretty girls don’t curse.” he lectures you. 

you can’t think of an insult to throw at his way. all you can do is moan a weak ‘sorry’ and grab at his shoulder. nanami coos at how dumb you’re becoming for him. he uses his other arm to hook it under your leg and bring it up higher. even though the movement is subtle, the change is obvious.

nanami is barely holding up, himself. his skin is flushed red and his hair is sticking down to his head. he’s letting out huffs as he tries to control himself and not cum so fast. it’s hard not to when your pussy is gripping him so tightly. 

he looks down and watches as his dick appears and then disappears inside of you repeatedly. he could see strings of your arousal smeared all over both yourself and him.

“fuck.” he mumbles before diving for your lips once again. as much as he wants to finish as soon as possible with how wet and needy you are, he knows you two will be going at it for hours. 

[poppy-metal]

dad’s best friend!patrick letting you stay at his apartment when you get into a fight with art…. i’m thinking you snuck out and returned to find art sitting on the couch, waiting for you to come back. just screaming and yelling at each other, you’re throwing things at him. he calls you reckless and a child and idiotic. all things he’s called patrick before. banging on patrick’s door after you drove your car 20 miles over the speed limit from your house to his apartment building. he opens the door all angry because who the fuck is banging his door down at one in the morning. he’s less angry when he sees it’s you but he still says “why are you here????” in that gruff just woke up voice. when you stutter and look up with him with those big wet eyes and say “i just… i need you right now” he can’t find it in himself to be angry anymore, just pulling you into this apartment and wrapping you up in his arms when you cry into his shoulder. the same arms that held you like this when you scrapped your knee when you were eight, the same arms that held you on his shoulder at one of your dad‘s matches when you were six. just so familiar and comforting and warm. crying and saying that art just “doesn’t understand me.” he “doesn’t get me.” but patrick does. you may be his best friend’s daughter but he sees you and he gets you. he’ll hide you in his apartment for as long as you want, saying that you’re not there when art inevitably knocks on his door a day later.

anyway.

- ⭐️

he really is just a sap for you :((( can't turn you away even when its the one thing he should do - should call art right away, because he'd be worried sick by now but. he sees himself in you, he remembers being called immature and reckless and all sorts of stuff by people who just didn't understand that he wanted to live life to the fullest - because what was the point of feeling all that shitty stuff, of slowing down just to appease other people and stop you from doing what you wanted - yeah, he was more responsible now, but still. at your age, it should be all about impulsivity and the rush of being alive.

and then there's the worse part of him that cant turn you away because you're just..... you came to him. you had to have a bunch of other friends you could go to that would be better, but it was him you turned to. it was him you looked up to. admired. it was inappropriate and wrong, the way you felt about him, but fuck. it felt good. it felt good to be needed.

he lets you stay. puts up less of a fuss about it than you thought he would, but that's probably because of the tears. he makes you a spot on the couch and when you pout and say its ungentlemenly for him not to give up his bed he just looks at you. says, "we both know you want to be in my bed for alot more reasons than comfort.", and well. he's not wrong. you definitely would have touched yourself if you had slept there. humped one of his pillows.

still, you manage to haggle one of his shirts from him - claiming your clothes were to uncomfortable to sleep in - and he'd tossed you one of his old tennis academy shirts. the fabric stretched out and worn. it dwarfs you when you slip it on, reaching your knees. its not as good being in his bed would have been, but you still drag the fabric over your nose in the middle of the night and inhale his scent while you touch through your wet slit - stroking and petting. you suck the fabric into your mouth too, imagining he just wore it and you could suck his sweat from it - pull it into your mouth. you imagine him in his bed just a couple doors down from you - sleeping on his stomach in just his boxers - fuck, maybe naked? - the strong expanse of his back, the thickness of his thighs. you imagine how he'd react to catching you masturbating in his shirt - if he'd get angry and call you a bad little girl. would he flip you over his knee, beat some sense into you? would cant stop from pulling the shirt completely over your head as you drench your fingers, pumping them in and out of your wet pussy as you think about being completely covered by patrick - pressed down and pinned with nothing to do but take in his musk and let him inside your tight body -

you cum sticky and wet all over your fingers. the bottom of his shirt damp with your juices. the apartment is quiet. you wonder how long you can take being around patrick zweig and not break - you feel like if he doesn't fuck you soon, it'll kill you.

[grind-pantera]

Chimp Mosh Pit. ( Noa x Human! Reader. ) Part 10.

*Bad Ape voice* ohhhhh noooooo.

Title: Chimp Mosh Pit. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, weapons used, Ape Aggression, mentions of blood, intense moments of being on deaths door step. Good luck. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 7.1K+ Summary: Remember when you said Death brought new beginnings? READ THE SERIES HERE.

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There was one thing that was clearer than the river Noa and you enjoyed time and time again as a peaceful offering between Echo and Ape. Something that ran through the land like splitting opinions, slicing its torrent edges against an already weak sediment, taking advantage of the submission of dirt and claiming it as their own with a flush of moisture; a fighter in its own way that was never known to either of you as you thought it to be tame, soothing and gentle like the Clan itself. The Eagle Clan were not combative. Surely, there was the juxtaposition that they inherently were from being Apes, more powerful in countless other aspects than just strength to their Echo counterparts. 

But Noa knew --- at least he tried to convince his racing mind, the tenderizing of his flesh from another fist ghosting over his rib cage for a moment as if the male Ape were lost in the time that floated between then and now, scattering memories of your gazes, your hands near his own, the red seeping from his nose, the snarling of teeth flushed with his gargling saliva and iron-tasting blood…  Noa needed to remember how it felt to be pulverized in order to learn, in order to garner attention from you, sending a spiral of fear to radiate down his entire spine, down to his legs where he told himself he needed to keep standing and to not run away. 

What… If he never did? What if he never got you to look at him with those eyes that said more than anything that was ever said before? 

Your scent was still powerful, rising and falling into his nose like you were basking in front of him on a hot day, your chest wildly adorned with sweat as he watched a few droplets fall beneath the bridge of your breast, obscured by fabric as you flashed him a smile that was undetectable, your eyes knowing that he had been watching the delectation of moisture build up against your skin, feeling so envious that it got to caress you in the ways that he wanted to, how Noa yearned to leave a trail of his own spit morbidly against any crevice you would let him sink into.

The Clan seemed such a tack-note to him, shame rising at the idea that he’d let them burn it down now if it meant he could run towards you, to find where Soona had taken you, just to bargain against your unconscious, emotionless face… Wake up for me, please… I let you go once, I will never do it again… 

All you need to do…

Was.

Wake.

Up.

For me.

From his travels with Raka and the other Echo he had experienced, having to defending himself against the likes of a Bonobo who had many more years of experience, having to stand up for his Clan who considered him not worthy of the title Master of the Birds, it was clear in the way they looked at him compared to his Father, Noa needed to remember. How often he wondered if he’d ever set a standard like that with his own hands, with his own mind but it seemed impenetrable until he came out victorious once and he was suddenly engorged with power he didn't know how to yield, and having fought a Tyrant King only to burden a crown twice as heavy.

But, he thought back to it and looked at Anaya next to him, sharing an all knowing glance of self-preservation, knowing they were both on the same wavelength, a sure fire way to know that they were born within a blazing sunset, they shared their feelings without having to verbalize, they emoted their consciousness by sharing a stare, nothing more, green digging into more green that in itself, held the answer to everything, held the fire that was needed to come out victorious. In unison, they both looked back towards the threat. 

This was a fight intended for two Apes and a group of six Echo, their weapons unknown but surely tucked away, disguised and waiting, bloodthirsty for the moment where they got to taste flesh and bone. Anything - Noa’s eyes flickered against the horse, anything there, tied to the rear of the animal in the bags it carried heavily against it side sadistically, the dangling of a dagger against the female Echo in the forefront for his vision, it was placed on her chest, wrapped around her neck like a piece of ceremonious jewelry, flashing Noa to think of the necklaces his Father wore, so mild in their design, but so powerful and spoke words that did not need to be spoke. His stomach turned.

Anything could be used against them, Noa knew but was his mind able to comprehend such details in the midst of a fight? Would his instincts finally rest themselves against his diaphragm so he could fight to defend what was his?

Noa felt a subversive and uncomfortable notion resting inside of him, something that consecutively played against his greatest weakness and years of self-deprecating comparisons to his Father - He felt confident. Something that made the bile rise in the back of his throat, and no amount of swallowing was going to get it to go away so he opted to growl towards the male in a display of power, in a way that told him that he was going to adversely rip the very emotions off his face and hold them in his hand as a victory, blood spearing against Noa and marking him a capable Leader of the finest order, a monster in all regards, tongue sweeping over sharpened canines as he’d beam at the crunch the Echo body would make upon impact on the ground. 

Such gruesome thoughts flashing before him that he couldn’t get out of the forefront of his vision--- Your eyes swollen shut, mouth ajar with bloodied saliva falling from it, the fragile bob of your head, Noa wanting nothing more than to take it into his hands, flashing him back in time to the moments when you complained about your neck being sore after sleeping weird --

Such thoughts tangling with the aggression in his beating skull were all he needed. He knew Anaya could do this, there was no lack of confidence in his friend being more agile and a bit of a showoff at times and he was aware that it was a brilliant tactic to use in a fight against already intelligent Echo’s who probably had their own aberrant plan of what they were going do. 

Noa was an intellectual fighter, using things available to him instead of brute strength, something that rested uneasily in the taut muscles of his body, not fully used to the potential he wanted but that was more due to strength never needing to be used extensively in hand-to-hand combat.

He had--- His leafy gaze caught eyes with the female and he felt his mouth drop at the pure malice that dripped from her darkened irises as she stared right back at him, like a black queen on her throne she pierced down at him from the saddle of her horse. Noa had played his nature as an Ape once before, something that should make him a good fighter along the tree of life, and it cost his Fathers life and half the village, the countless that were lost then and then more that were lost in the aquatics when Mae blew up the dam holding back water.

Chimps… Could not swim, his hands grazing against bodies in the water as he tried to fight for the rest of them, knowing he had caused deaths in himself and in others. He’d lost Raka to the same force of nature, he had lost many of his Clan, and he was bargaining now inside of his mind how many could be lost by another element as he caught wind of the smoke blowing from the torches the Echo’s held, getting a mouth full of a disgusting tweed from the hut that had already been set on fire. 

Once again, he thought to himself and drew a hard breath in through his nose, the Eagle Clan were peaceful Apes - They never had a reason to fight other Apes, let alone an Echo pack. He was smart - that was the only confidence that was seeping from his pores, the rest of the notions were all superficial and ungrazed, unused and made Noa want to hunch in on himself near his Fathers grave and apologize once more for not being able to stop the infliction of destruction.

Dilated green eyes, eclipsed like the moon that beckoned in on a scheduled basis in the sky, sank into the male and tracing any lines of intellect that he was able to detect. There was nothing for him to analyze there, his mind racing at the prospect that were were some Echo’s whose eyes were unreadable - Unlike.. Noa’s hand balled into a fist before relaxing again at his side, waiting to sign to Anaya that it was time. 

Unlike your eyes. 

Noa’s hackles rose upon his shoulders at the scope of them captivating his own in a wild dance that he didn't know the steps to, breathing more rapid fire than before as he prepared his body, the muscles rippling from the aspect that he was more than likely going to get hit, leaving an undertone of uncomfort to lift in his mind along with the fur of his body. Noa’s fingers flexed at his side. 

‘Go.’

Anaya was the first to lunge forward, all four appendages ripping at the ground below and tearing Earth a few inches into the air before it collapsed back down, sad against its comrades as it had been destroyed. Tearing through the resistance of the air without a reserve, teeth bared and a large growl. Noa - Stagnant for a moment watched, entranced, envious that Anaya was… Not scared. 

So many times he was even scared at a ladybug that once crawled onto his forehead and fluttered its tiny wings against his leathery skin. Absolutely carnage, he managed to take down the female Echo’s horse with such ease kicking the legs out from under its weight with a skid against the dirt, Anaya’s fur delicately traced with sediment now on one side from the audacity of the action itself. The animal itself pained and Noa felt a shred of empathy for them as they hit the ground, straggling along with the Echo that went down with it. Without reserve, the provisions on the back of her horse, strapped so tightly, were scattered, a testament to just how hard his friend had hit. 

The animalistic abomination Anaya had in her hair has his long fingers tangled in, giving way into leverage as he began dragging her through the dirt, her hands reaching up to struggle against it as her feet splayed outwards in some desperate way to get him to stop, skirting the heels of her worn boots into the dirt that was imprinting her scraped body, bloody screams taking hold into the air as Noa sensed Soona’s return as she began the proper evacuations of the Eagle Clan with assistance from his Mother as the flames of the one hut tore itself against the flush field around the Colony and had its set gaze on the large embankment of huts that surrounded the Eagle Enclosure and the towering nests of the families.

Noa tired to focus on the situation at hand, knowing that the two female Apes would do what they could to get everyone out in time with the help of the Elders. He couldn’t find it in himself to worry about that in the middle of a fight. Noa turned his focus to Anaya once more and felt salivation hit his tongue at the primal intent that the Ape was displaying. It was like there was utmost satisfaction paid towards Anaya’s curiosity to the extreme of what it felt like to hold such power. Hard to bring down other Apes, easy to take down Echo’s and all their fragility. 

Noa snapped out of his self-doubt at that moment when he touched base on… That’s how it must have been for you, struggling to fight against a beast whose strength was going to tear you apart, the twigs that ended up in your hair, smearing blood and dirt into the finer details of your face and hair, your screams… Wondering when it was going to end, when the blunted weapon that knocked you unconscious would take your last breath.

Noa… Hated himself that you ended up like that, gargling on your own blood, your eyes unable to see what was happening to you as you scraped your hands in front of you in a last ditch effort to save yourself from being killed. 

He’d kill them just for looking at you, that thought radiating and taking hold of all of his senses, the tips of his fingers tickling himself in excitement, his breathing hard and fast through his nose as Noa yearned to do nothing more than to bare his teeth. The Ape would wait for that - Until this man was under his foot, pressing him down into the depths of the Earth itself, to burn under Noa’s weight as he crushed his rib cage first, hoping the bones would fall inwards and puncture his lungs. Only then… Would he smile at them. Give them the satisfaction of knowing that they had played a game against an Ape who wanted an eye for life. Not an eye for an eye, otherwise Noa would just beat them to a bloody pulp and let them leave.

 He was going to kill the Echo just to seek some revenge, knowing that the guilt of letting you leave in the first place was more of the reason he was fighting. For every cry you gave, he imagined some towards Noa himself, some towards the heavens as you begged for it to end, to be over so you could fall asleep and never recollect the terror you had been through. No one, Noa growled, his chest broadening in strict possession and acute aggravation. No one would lay a hand on you again, no one would make you cry out of anything other than exhalation or pleasure, those only reserved for Noa. He twisted his neck, the muscles primed for him and he peered at the prospect in front of him.

The large Chimp, primed to look bigger than usual by the swagger of his shoulders in conjecture with the muscles of his biceps, took a step forward, toes digging hard into the ground as he began to drive himself forward with intense and scrutinizing leverage, staring straight at the male in front of him, knowing now that he was not going to take the same route as Anaya by taking down the fragile horse first. Noa was going to go straight for the source of the problem itself.

Yes, this female Echo, thrown against the side of another hut out of the corner of Noa’s vision as Anaya brought his fist down directly onto her sternum, had to have been what happened, he was sure of it, falling onto all fours, the Echo male touching the holster on the right side of his body in anticipation. He may think he was fast, but was he faster than Noa? The question tickled the back of his mind and he wanted nothing more than to get that answer to soothe that intent of knowledge. 

The lunge he took forward was disgusting in all descriptions of the word, Noa felt like his teeth were going to shatter themselves into tiny shards inside of his mouth and he’d be forced to swallow them all in a nice grit. The shout - It was something that Noa himself found terrifying, not recognizable to his own ears as it tore through the entire Clan, captivating a few other Apes in their escape, including Anaya who looked over at him for just a split second, blood now falling from his mouth as he had torn into the female Echo he was working on, directly into her throat and tore it clean out of her body, the muscles being spit out and discarded wildly to now be coated with dirt as it rolled onto the ground.

Licking at it, he looked down at her with vicious intent, praised at himself and sought his next target, the other female, who having seen what happened to her fellow Echo, only peered in fear as Anaya drew closer, the color leaving her body as she went to grab a blunted iron staff from the hold it had against her back.

Noa’s body slammed against the male Echo without reserve, taking him down to the ground below and kissed the palm of his hand in a smear as Noa’s hand forced him down eat dirt, trying to control the struggle the horse found as they were knocked off balance, legs flailing and Noa wanted to break them all in a way to get the unabashed movement to stop under him. He relented that control, feeling the sick twist of Echo skin under his calloused touch as the male he had his fingernails dug into grunted, but did not fight back.

Noa shouted at them, right into their ear in a bid to get them to do something against him. Where was the satisfaction in killing an Echo when they did not fight back? Flurried eye contact was made with the other male a few meters away, Noa crushing the skull of one and peering right in front of him at the other, canines showing themselves only once now in a warning to him. He’d kill him if he came any closer.

He’d rip that beating jugular right out in the name of the Eagle Clan itself. No one hurt him, no one hurt his Echo, no one hurt his Clan, his people and sanctuary. Coming down harder, his entire weight pressed down on the male he had under him and Noa skirted him enough away from the horse, the male's feet mimicking the actions of the horse almost down to the tee to completely render the flailing useless as they managed to get onto their feet and run off. 

Thunder hit the male Apes ears, Anaya frenzied from his tussle with the female looking up at the sound he had only heard once before in his life. Noa’s eyes glancing up at the completely clear sky, save from the dancing twinkles of the stars as they joined the moon on their nightly ventures. No clouds… Noa grunted, collapsing first onto his knees as he tried to salvage his balance but found himself unable as if gravity itself were failing the very concepts that held items to Mother Earth. He fell forward, hard as a bellow of dirt encapsulated him, drifting downwards onto his fur. With his face pressing into the ground, Noa ripped a growl straight from the depths of his throat, mimicking that same noise he had heard only moments ago in a display of fevered intensity, swallowed whole by agony pilling itself in the forefront of his mind. 

His eyes almost admired the way that his blood, slick in nature by the saliva that was coating the redness itself, dribbled off his chin and onto the ground below, creating a mixture of concrete from the only hit that Echo managed to get onto his face on the way down from the toppling horse, not even noticeable in the moment to the Ape as adrenaline tore away at his pain receptors. Where Noa landed was hard and cold as the night that encased the trees of the landscape and instinctually, he was quick to get himself up before but faltered and collapsed again. Dirt ran into his mouth and stuck grossly to his tongue, trying to swallow it down was pained in itself. 

There was something lodged in his shoulder blade, near the tendon itself that felt like it was ricocheting to the left and right at a quickened pace, breathing with the air that he was taking into his lungs and Noa convinced himself to slow that down before the very muscles of his shoulder came into the open air as it felt that they were going to snap themselves apart and counteract upwards. Specifically the right shoulder as inflicted, rendering it mildly useless in the scape of things. What was an Ape without their most valuable weapons, fists? 

Noa hadn’t seen what hit him, and when he looked towards the spot on his shoulder inflicted with panic setting into his chest, causing his breathing to pick up as he shouted out, there was nothing there other than the seeping of his blood, mixing into the already darkened nature of his fur, trickling down through the finer parts closer to his skin, down his bicep and soon to encase his outer forearm. His arm shattered as he attempted to put in weight on it, yelping in defenselessness as he crashed onto the ground once again.

The Echo… in front of him. Noa bared his teeth against the ground. He had a weapon. Something Echo. Something… His green eyes forced themselves to drag upwards, only catching the gleam of something metallic and black in the Echo’s hand before it was put back into the side pouch against his skinny hip. 

There was no way that he’d miss an arrow or even a spear. Too big, the momentum would have been torn to shreds by the vision that was granted to him in the sake of defense. Noa cried out, yelling at himself to get up as more of his blood seeped onto the ground below his usually broad body, torn into itself in this moment as a thrust of agony ran through his entire right side, all the way down to the elongated nature of his spaced out toes.

The disgusting smell of his own blood hit his senses, cascading around the back of his mind in a relentless call to pick himself up and to continue fighting. He--- Noa cried, pressing his forehead into the dirt and giving himself a ceremonious kiss to the Earth in a bid for her to help him stand. He couldn’t…

Teeth gritted together, the sound dulling out the screams of the Eagle Clan as another flame tore through their trenches. He closed his eyes for only a moment before reopening them to find Anaya. Anaya… Noa wanted to whimper and get himself up enough to crawl over to his friend, unconscious having taken a blunt hit to the side of his head from the female as she was now rising to her feet, wiping her mouth of blood and looked at Noa directly, admiring the wound on his shoulder that glimmered wetness.

Noa wanted to grasp him, to pull him closer and to tell him that he was sorry, that this was all of his fault… The demise of their clan, years of generations, years of culture and traditions, were now soaring free in the sky as their Eagles took off from the Enclosure in search of sanctuary elsewhere. Some followed their owners, others cried in desperation as their owners were unable to be detected in the absolute frenzy. Green irises finally rested against fire as it brought its flames upon the perch of the Eagle Enclosure. The wood, sap and rudimentary but sophisticated building was engulfed without remorse, a strangled cry raked his entire body. No… No… Noa tried to move forward, slumping his body in an unnatural contort as his feet pushed his upper half against the dirt, now mixing with the soot and ash of devastation. Not again. NOT AGAIN! His forehead pressed against the ground as he began shaking, his muscles falling in on themselves and without warning, Noa’s back was crushed downwards, stopping all his movements by the male he had begun this fight with. 

All breath left Noa’s chest as he felt the back of his ribcage explode with misery as it was pressed beyond its abilities. There was a sharp snap as he took another breath in, the entire weight of the Echo being placed, a boot imprint leaving itself on the back of his fur as the male finally relented and sought to crouch down next to Noa. 

“Can’t even fight like a damn Ape,” He spat, reaching around Noa’s forearm, upwards to his bicep and tore the band that laid there right off, hopeful that maybe there’d be some fur that was with it as a trophy. Another one destroyed, another step in the right direction. Noa wheezed, unable to breath but managed himself to look towards the man who began playfully sipping Noa’s arm band on his pointer finger while the other raised up and wiped under his nose, taking in the adornment of red against his flesh.

“You got a few good hits, gotta give it to you.” Rations of liquid seeped into Noa’s lung the moment he was kicked onto his side, the pressure of the movement rounding his entire being into a state of pure shock. “Watch your little town, Ape. Watch it burn to the ground and know that we’re gonna take back this godforsaken planet by any means necessary. And your little pet? She’s still alive somewhere in the woods. I think I’ll find ‘er.” Noa’s eyes widened as tears began physically falling from his eyes. Rare for a Chimp, but not impossible. You--- No…

He grunted to say something but nothing but a gurgle took hold in his throat as he spat out a bit of blood. 

“Make sure she knows I destroyed everything she fought to hide from me, her poor little cries. Wouldn’t tell me where you were, she’s quite a fighter.” A smirk. 

Eyes twitched in a desperate plea to fight more but Noa was unable to tangle himself into any sort of stance other than the sweeping of his gaze against the village, Soona looking at him from across the field, before tearing her sight on Anaya who was still unconscious. She was panicked, it was evident and she didn't know which to go after. Anaya, or Noa.

Growling, she handed a baby Bonobo to Dar as they were still evacuating into the woods and chose Anaya. Drag him away, get him to safety and return to help Noa. Her feet were fastened, she needed to be quicker than the breeze that ran through the desolate Eagles in the sky before Noa was killed. Noa understood - He’d have done the same thing, he thought pensively and let his eyes shut. 

“I really tortured her to get her to just tell us where your lil’ monkey clan was, should have heard her scream.” Swiping his teeth with his tongue, he held his hand out as the other male came forward and handed him that same metallic and black weapon. Noa’s eyes widened in recognition. He had no name for it now, he couldn’t recall in the moment if Mae ever told him what it was, if he was ever told what it was by anyone in the village. The stocky and short shaft of the item pressed against Noa’s head, cold.

He’d seen what it did to one of Proximus’ followers. Whatever projectile this flung out was stuck in his shoulder. Whatever was inside was going to throw Noa into the darkness where he was going to remain.

“Such a waste of screams, honestly. If she had just told us where you were, she’d probably be more alive than she is now, my friends here really did a number on her when she tried to get onto her horse to warn you.”

Squeezing his eyes shut now, Noa heard Eagle Sun's distinctive cry coming from above. He was ready. You were out there, teetering on the line and would succumb, Echo’s were a lot more fragile and the hits he knew, without proper care immediately, were going to cause extensive damage and you’d give up despite being stubborn beyond belief. With his actions, the whole of the Eagle Clan would be lost. With his last breath, just a whisper to the Eagles above and to the Apes in the surrounding forest. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Noa reached out a hand and let his eyelids flutter open for a moment and he felt your grazing fingertips against his palm. He reacted as such, bringing his fingers in slowly to hold onto you. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to protect you. 

Thunder. Multiple splits like the sky were opening up for his departure from the Earth.

Noa drew a deep breath in and expected to open them to nothing but a wilderness of white as he was torn away from his conscious body into oblivion. Something, something… Slowly, eyes opened to peek at what was beyond death. Was he going to see his Father? Koro? 

He sobbed lightly at that, flooding his vision with tears. He wanted to… He wanted to apologize to him for all of this, for being so weak and for… Not being the Son that the Master of Birds deserved. Noa wanted the embrace of his Father’s hands against his face as they were brought together to kiss foreheads and he wanted him to know that he fought with all he had, how was he meant to be predestined to win against the ardent use of unfair warfare used by Echo’s who saw them as nothing but threats?

Noa sobbed again, this time harder when there was weight suddenly thrusted on top of him, harder than he needed and crushed his ribs even further into his body. 

Noa swore to the heavens now that… He’d heard your voice. Soothing and calling for him. You were there! In the deep midnight and you were telling him to come join. That you’d forgive him if he just opened his eyes and looked at you. The weight was taken off of him, the last adornment before the sweet kiss of death, an Eagle perched atop him, came in with intent to take him under their wing. Yes… He wanted nothing more than your hands against him, his back falling flat onto the ground as he peered into the night sky, the stars drawing him in through the rush of moisture in his eyes that obscured the finer details. Take me. My Echo… My… Beautiful screaming Echo.

“Noa, you ne-need to look at me.” Ah, your voice again and he found himself tilting his head into the caress that your hands suddenly had on his head, blood drawing his line of vision for a moment as you smeared it against his cheeks, a bid to get him to keep his head straight instead of lulling to the side in defeat. 

 “NOA!” Digging your knees into the ground, you tried to ignore the sensation of absolute ripping coming from your calves that you had managed to tie into a tourniquet to get the bleeding to subside with the dull leather of the belt you had. Grime was dug deeply into your fingernails, a silent prayer to the landscape that you just transferred your body against, at least fifty meters of terrain, hard and unforgiving under your weight. A want to defend what was yours to the bitter end. If you fell on the way there as death knocked on you, then fine, so be it, as long as you made an effort to try.

You had woken up alone after hearing the vaguest of ‘sorry’ from Soona as your head was delicately placed against the ground. Not that you could blame her once realization and horror dawned on you at the sight of a dim fire consuming the woods near you, you’d have done the same thing. Gone to protect your own people instead of a lifeless Echo who meant nothing. 

Your hands had torn the male you had shot away from Noa, watching as the bodies of the other Humans lay bare in rapid succession as you impressed yourself with your remarkable aim with swollen eyes, only able to get yourself planted on the ground long enough to actually pull the trigger of the gun that was thrown against the ground as soon as the bullets were spent.

Had they been paying attention, you beamed at yourself for just a moment as you collapsed back down and made your way towards Noa, using your forearms to scoot yourself as your legs were ultimately rendered useless now after trying to stand on such a sustained injury, you had taken one of their primal weapons and tucked it into the waistband of your pants when they had attacked you before.

Stupid Echo, you joked and let a chortled cry radiate through you as you tried to garner Noa’s eyes into your own, your hands caressing the sides of his face, sweeping over the indentation of the bullet into his shoulder.  It was like he was in your own head saying it now as you cried, your tears falling onto his face into a mixture of salt and iron. 

Stupid Echo always leave most vulnerable spots open. 

How you hated that he was right… Fingertips trailed against the fine wrinkles around his nose that were less prominent than they usually were as he was not holding himself conscious. “Noa, you need to wake up, I can-can’t carry you on my own, I don-don’t know where Soona went or where Anaya is, I can---” You tapered as a cry hit your throat at the idea that you were too late and that he was going to be unable to come to, unable to help you. 

Glancing down at your mangled calves, you came to terms that you were going to need to use the torn apart muscles there to get him dragged away from the fires that were rapidly consuming around you. Please, please… You told your legs, please just give me enough to do this and you can take me to death's door step after… Please… 

“I need to save him…” You verbalized, words thrown in on themselves with agnostic punches of air as you were unable to find it in yourself to calm the rapid rise and fall of your shoulders. 

Noa reached up, grasping your forearm for only a second before it dropped onto his chest. You scrambled, gasping as he finally coughed under you, his eyes trying to bring themselves into focus, you dug your hands into the fur lining his face and brought your forehead in towards his own, kissing only for a second in a flurry. He was alive, you brought your eyes to squeeze shut and force the tears away as they were now mixing disgustingly with the mud on your face. “Noa, you need to get up.” That was said against his lips, your face so near in proximity that you appeared cross-eyed. “Echo.” “I know, they---” You brought your face down and pressed it into his chest above where his arm now rested, only pulling back once he winced at the sensation of you being so close to him. I-- Couldn… Couldn’t… Stop them… They…”

Noa’s eyes finally fluttered fully open as he coughed aggressively, blood slipping out of the corner of his mouth that you wiped away without hesitation to cup the side of his face once you pulled yourself from his chest, tucking an arm under his neck to keep him leveraged so he wouldn’t drown on himself. “This… all my fault, the Clan… Yo.. You’re so hurt… I tried they…” 

“(Name).” The sound of your name from him rocketed your senses back to reality instead of pitiful groveling like you had been. His eyes were no longer open.

“Yes, it’s me…” You whispered, your fingers drawing themselves against the wrinkles of his face once again as you braced him against you, slickness smearing itself onto your clothing without reserve and in some sick twisted way, with his blood now seeping into your skin, this was the closest you had ever been to him. You always wanted to touch them, touch his face, but not like this.

Early morning after he took you for the first time would have been the preference, your hands lightly tracing what you had wanted to seek for so long… Something in you hoped that your touch alone was going to revive him but you knew that to be wishful thinking but it persisted when you dragged your fingers down towards his mouth and traced the lines of his lips. Say my name for me, say anything for me…

You tried to hold his head just a bit more, “Noa you need to get up, we need to get out of here before the fire comes. I--- I won’t leave you here again, but you need to help me.” A promise was made in that moment as he willed himself to try, his shoulders moving rather loosely as you tangled yourself into him, prepared to take the full force of his weight against your shins. 

“Soona---” “I th-think she’s-helping the Clan---” Noa let out a thunderous roar this time, regretting it immediately once it left his body as he slumped back once again and you were forced to catch him before he racketed onto the ground again. “SOONA!”

It felt like moments later, she was there; Soona’s eyes frantic as she looked at you, amazement clearly there that you were not dead where she had left you. Only a moment of an apologetic glance as you whispered to her, “I-I can’t lift him on my own, he’s--- I need to get him away from here to get the bullet out of his shoulder otherwise he’s going to die.” 

You were remarked on your ability to speak so clearly, chalking it up to the fact that you were face to face with death anyway and the adrenaline was causing the muscles of your jugular to pound crazily, your heart running itself away from the idea that he could die from the wounds inflicted on him. “Please.” You needn’t bother with formalities, Soona wanted to tell you as she dropped herself next to you, fixating on your legs and their physical state. “I know you can’t carry both of us. Get him out of here, don’t worry about me anymore. I-I’ll get myself out of here, I’m quite a crawler.”  It was a joke meant to lighten the mood as you felt the heat of flames against your back, “Crawled all the way over here by myself.” To say goodbye.

Letting your hand rest on Noa’s head, you petted the fur backwards and admired the scar that Eagle Sun had left him. The Ape accepted the affection unabashedly and tilted into it, your eyes staring down at him for only a moment thinking of what could have been if the circumstances were different. Both could have been happy… The pleasure of knowing what Noa felt like against you, not in a moment of death, but in a moment of ecstasy, your mouth drifting over his own as you told him how much you… You loved him.

Stumbling over yourself, you choked on your own self-pity thinking about the first time you had admitted that you loved him, the first time the idea sprung in the back of your head. Just another day where something lit inside of you, Noa giving you only one glance that lasted longer than any of the others, lips piling themselves into a small smile just for you…

“Will send someone to come get you.” Soona’s voice was rushed with reassurance as she moved to get Noa, taking him from your grasp and leaving you only with the imprint of his body left against your shirt, pants and hands. “Promised To Noa… keep His Echo… safe.” There was a twinge in your heart at that as your fingers left him as she rose to stand. Your hands dangled in the air for a moment before you dropped them slowly. “Thank you….” Voice barely a touch above a whisper, you smiled slightly at her which she returned with a softened gaze before it hardened in focus to hike Noa up with her. 

You hoped Soona was right that someone would come get you, your legs were numb and you were tired from pulling yourself to see him. So tired… Your eyelids felt so heavy, the blurring of the fire behind you deeply entrancing just to roll into. So… tired… The same feeling rushed into your chest like when you were first found by Noa, Soona and Anaya. Acceptance… No more bargaining, as you were ready to see your friends again, ready to meet Koro and tell him how amazing his Son truly was.  

You smiled to yourself with a huff, feeling the cut on your lip split open with one more lingering thought. He was going to be a great Leader, and he was going to rebuild and prosper, with or without you. Who needed a pesky little Echo?

Falling onto your knees as best you could, you tried to scramble yourself to stand but to no avail and drooled onto the ground as you came to rest on your stomach, face down in the dirt as Noa had been when you arrived.  It was a choice you were making, knowing that Soona was only able to carry one of you safely without risking the other to more injuries or even death and Noa was falling into a state of unconsciousness.

Your bit about getting the bullet out earlier was only telling Soona what she needed to do once he was safe, nothing more. Your fingers would no longer touch him. She wanted to speak on it, but you had accepted that this was the way things were meant to be as flames hit your cheeks from a few meters away. She needed to help Noa, their leader, and not what Noa’s interests were.

Death, you thought, always brought new beginnings and you hoped that to be true with all your might as you watched Soona carry Noa once your head tilted in that direction, the last action you felt you were able to bring yourself to do. Need… To look at him, see him one more time… You told the reaper above you, just give me that, please… His feet staggering against the ground, hard and rough as Soona herself struggled to keep him situated against her own body. You’d have always died for him, you felt like it was destined.

One way or another, somewhere in the multitude of the universe, you being nothing more than a speck to anyone else, were an entire world for an Ape. A Chimpanzee. Your heart, you wished you'd protected it a bit more but still... At the end of the day that was more than okay to perish in flame for.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

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[minswriting]

hi dear, I just saw that you sre taking requests and just ran here 🥹🥹🙏🏻 could you maybe do a aaron hotchner x reader, where he just confesses his love for her? maybe in a tense situation or something? thanks 🥹🥹🩵

note: this may be really bad because i’m not good with non smut related things lol. but i tried my best pookie

warnings: hostage situation (unsub kidnapped hotch and reader), love confessions, emotions, angst, general criminal minds related issues, etc.

you woke up with a throbbing pain in your head as you opened your eyes to a dark room. your eyesight was blurry, probably from a concussion you likely had. you could feel it. as you tried to move your wrists, you realized they were bound.

the last thing you remembered was walking into the abandoned storage house with hotch and next thing you knew, you were waking up in a dark room. and then it clicked that you had been kidnapped. you looked around, desperately trying to see if aaron was in the room as well. and that’s when you felt movement against your back.

the two of you were tied up together, your backs against one another.

“hotch-“ you whispered only to be shushed by him.

“be very quiet,” he whispered back. “we’ve been taken. i’m not sure how long it’ll be until the others find us.”

you nodded your head though you knew he couldn’t see it. how you saw it was that this was a highly dangerous situation. the unsub you guys were close to catching was a man who wanted to make a name for himself, having a personal vendetta against the BAU and causing the most gruesome murders. to be tied up in his warehouse, well it wasn’t a positive situation. and you knew aaron was scared too.

“what do we do?” you whispered. your hands were tied behind your back but you tried your best to reach for aaron’s fingers, seeking to comfort him and yourself.

“there isn’t much we can do,” aaron said, squeezing your fingers. “except try to talk him down. but we profiled that he wouldn’t go down easily and that he would likely go down with suicide by cop. he will not listen to reason.”

you bit your lip, swallowing. the situation didn’t seem to have a positive outcome regardless of how you looked at it. either you and aaron were dying or the unsub will die trying. to say you weren’t ready was an understatement.

and without thinking, you simply said “i love you,” very quietly. thinking that you were going to die really puts a stop to anxieties towards admitting your feelings. perhaps that’s why a lot of people admit to things when on their deathbeds.

aaron tensed for a moment before swallowing. your words had made him tear up as he heard the rawness in your tone. “i love you too,” he said back to you.

those words alone provided a comfort to you. that even if you were to die, you’d die knowing the man you loved indeed loved you back. and that’s all we need right? to know that we are loved in death just as much as we are in life.

[raainberry]

fire to warmth (compliments to the chef epilogue)

Momo x gn!reader

synopsis - five months after her first compliments, you find yourself chasing them. (read the original here)

wordcount - like 900

A/N - kinda chaebol!momo - chef!reader - mentions of food and smoke - you don’t hate each other anymore - literally just pure fluff - that's all i can think of, tell me if i missed anything

Momo in your shirt, sitting on the counter in her bright kitchen. Her laughter resonating in the open space, contrasting with the quiet and shy compliments you exchanged as you cooked breakfast for her.

A sweet scene, right? Unreal. Not even your imagination had come up with it when you were busy figuring her out through the rifts. Yet it was your reality.

On a random Sunday morning.

“You should cook for me more often.”

You glanced at Momo, and the sight of her in your t-shirt made her question vanish from your mind for a hot second. The way it fell on her shoulders, baggy and reaching slightly too high on her thighs, revealing just enough of the cute shorts underneath to make your heart skip a beat.

“I feel like I do that a decent amount already,” you teased, referring to your place back at the restaurant.

“I literally pay you for that, how dare you complain?”

“I’m not,” you grinned, leaning in for a kiss. She hesitated for a moment but ultimately gave in, granting you that small peck you’d grown addicted to as days went by. “I’ll cook breakfast for you any day, you just need to wake up before noon for that.”

Well. She knew she shouldn’t have given in that easily. Her foot found your butt quite fast, delivering a gentle kick as a reminder to watch your mouth.

You looked back at her at the contact, finding her eyes and locking them with yours. “Do it again.”

Her eyes rolled. It was a reflex at this point. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her, as always.

“Only for you,” you said, flipping a pancake.

“That’s exactly the problem,” she pointed out, making you laugh.

You loved these moments—seeing Momo so relaxed and happy, away from the pressures of work. If only you could go back in time, tell yourself everything you’d learn to like about her… Just to see your own face. It’d be worth the round-trip.

That smile she gave you when you handed her the pancakes on a plate was only one of many.

“Thank you, darling,” she said, taking a bite. “These are amazing.”

“Really? Still no ‘chef’?” you replied, leaning against the counter across from her.

Momo paused for a second, confused, before remembering the night you’d decided to give a chance to this chaos-inducing attraction. She chuckled, swallowing her bite as she shook her head no.

“But you really do make the best breakfast.”

“I’ll take the compliment.”

You stood there, a stupid smile on your face as you watched her take another bite. Some of her hair slipped into her mouth, pulling a soft chuckle out of you.

Momo quickly grew obsessed with having you around, she could barely understand why she’d ever wished you’d leave her perimeter. Especially when you took such good care of her, reaching for her hair and pushing the loose strand away from her lips.

That blush on her cheeks was faint, but it was still there. Something she didn’t necessarily like, but you did. It exposed her feelings a little too much in her opinion, something you were oh so glad about.

“Do you want anything on those pancakes or are you just gonna eat them plain?” You smiled, already reaching for the syrup you knew she’d request.

“They’re just as good like this.” She said in between bites. “I don’t know what you put in them, but please never change the recipe.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you set the syrup bottle down next to her. They soon approached her ear, and you lowered your voice, just to be dramatic. “My love for you, that’s what I put in them.”

She just chuckled, shook her head and pushed you away; a normal reaction from her. Just as normal as the way she tapped the empty spot next to her, inviting you to come sit with her.

You hopped up to comply with her wishes, the same ones you used to defy like your life depended on it.

“Let’s eat together.” She smiled. Another request you fully accepted and welcomed with open arms. Much like the bite she offered as soon as your shoulder touched hers.

The rich vanilla flavor melted along with the fluffy texture on your tongue. The combination was light and airy, with a hint of sweetness. The syrup, which she had drizzled on despite her earlier claims, brought a perfect balance to it all.

“I really am good at cooking, huh.”

Momo rolled her eyes once more, “Technically this is baking.”

The comment had you sending her a playful glare that she wasted no time on taming with a soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m just kidding, baby, you’re good,” she assured, leaning in closer to rest her head on your shoulder as she continued to eat. “Just don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late.” You sighed, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her even closer. “And you have a lot to do with it.”

You felt her shake lightly as she giggled, her laughter vibrating through you.

“Pretty sure it’s the compliments at work. I think I’m gonna ban them.”

“As long as you keep them coming.”

A small silence followed, filled with nothing but warmth and tranquility. Something in you had to stir it. It was still too hard to resist.

“I kind of want to go smoke,” you said, the subtle sound of your smirk breaking the quiet.

“Don’t,”she replied instantly. There it was, that firm tone. You’d missed it, although it was a little different from your early days. A little more affection softening her edge.

“Are you sure? I might look good doing it.”

You weren’t looking to argue anymore. Only hear her laugh.

And you succeeded.

[deathbecomesthem]

Cry Baby

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, discussion of sex, unrequited feelings, drug use

Summary: You take Eddie to a crybaby bridge a week before you leave for college.

---

“Do you have it?” Your hand is deep in your handbag brushing around the dirt and tobacco dust. It’s in here somewhere, you remember dropping it in your bag before rushing out of your front door. The sound of the horn from the old rust bucket of a van was loud enough to wake the neighbors, and he wasn’t going to let up until your ass was sitting firmly in the passenger seat.

“Just – fuck – give me a second,” he’s so annoying sometimes, too eager. You’re anxious to get moving, too, but you’re not willing to risk life and limb. Without even moonlight filtering in, the woods were pitch black this time of night. You let your frustration out in the form of a dig, “I have it, Eddie, can you just back the fuck off for a minute. Christ, why couldn’t you bring your own flashlight?”

His frustrated groan just puts you more on edge. It’s been like this with him lately. What used to be simple fun has felt like a chore. You know why. It’s because of her, but that’s not his fault. He’s allowed to have a girlfriend. You’re allowed to feel sad about it. You’re not allowed to take those feelings out on one of your best friends. He’s not a mind reader, and you’ve never given him a hint of a reason to believe the two of you could be anything more than what you are.

“Ha! There it is!” The flashlight, a tiny penlight your grandpa bought for your graduation, was hiding behind a tube of lip gloss in the bottom corner of your bag. “You ready to go find some ghosts, Ed, or are you too scared?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he’s already out of the van, swinging the door shut. He’s extra amped up because, despite his protests, he’s terrified. When you asked him to join you, he couldn’t say no, he couldn’t risk your mocking. But he hates this shit. Why bother looking for trouble when it finds him either way. And he happens to believe in ghosts.

“We don’t have to do this together, I can come back alone tomorrow night.” He knows this, and he knows he’s not going to let you tromp around in these woods by yourself to look for the old stone bridge. He also knows that he’s not going to miss a single second he gets to spend with you before you leave him.

“If you don’t get your ass out of that van, I’ll assume you’re the one that’s chickenshit. Let’s go!” It was his idea for both of you to dress in all black. Not exactly a far cry from the norm for either of you, but you felt a little ridiculous wearing your brother’s oversized black sweatshirt. All of yours have some sort of logo, and Eddie insisted you’d both be picked up for trespassing if the cops could see you. You’re waiting for the perfect moment to point out that his bright white knees are showing through the holes in his faded black jeans.

You consider your bag and decide it has to stay. You grab your smokes, your lighter, your pepper spray, and the baggie with a couple of pre rolled joints before hopping out of the van. He’s already got a cigarette lit, his hands move agitatedly from like he’s trying to shake out his nerves. It’s enough to make you feel a little guilty.

“Let’s go, Ed. The sooner we get out there, the sooner I’ll smoke you out to calm your ass down.” You lead the way, setting a quick gait. Eddie is on your heels, and you know from experience, he’ll be that way through the entire trek. A little less than a mile, but in the dark it will feel longer.

Normally, Laura would come out on an adventure like this. Your best friend for years, and Eddie’s new girlfriend. The three of you do, or did, everything together. Until a little more than a month ago when you walked in on them making out on Eddie’s bed. The pain, you masked as disgust that night, has turned sour. A bitter taste on the tip of your tongue that twists your words and makes them a little harsher than they should be. To Eddie and Laura. Your two most important people.

So, Laura passed, telling Eddie the two of you need some alone time. She really just can’t be around you right now, because she knows how you feel about Eddie. And it’s killing both of you. It’s too hard to be with them together, pretending that it doesn’t hurt. You want them to be happy, and that’s what they are. Perfect and happy. You’ll be gone in a week, anyway.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you hiss out when his chest connects to your back for the third time, “why don’t you just go wait in the van or whatever?” Your tone is mean and biting. You immediately regret it.

“What’s your problem? When did you get so fucking mean?” The fear is gone, replaced with anger. You’ve known this was coming for a while now, but hoped you could leave for school before the shit hit the fan with him. “You’ve been nothing but a grade A bitch to me lately,” he lets out a mean little laugh before adding, “not just to me, to Laura too.”

It’s like a slap in the face. Eddie has never gotten involved in anything between you and Laura. Never taken sides when the two of you fight. You feel like the ground under your feet has lost its firmness. Like it might break open and swallow you up. He’s right, but it hurts.

“Yeah, well, your girlfriend can take of herself, Ed, or did you fucking forget that now that you spend your weekend balls deep in her cunt?” The tip of the finger you have pushed into his chest is white with the effort. You want to hit him, you want to cry, you want to say something so cruel he’ll never want to speak to you again. “This is so fucking stupid, why are you even out here with me? You should be with your little plaything?”

“You know,” he slaps your hand away from him, “Laura said she thinks you’re jealous, and that’s why you’ve been acting like this.”

“Oh, did she come to that conclusion when she had your dick down her throat?” You hate yourself for it, but it’s been the only thing you’ve been able to think about. The two of them together in all of the ways you’ve been wanting him. You are jealous, and you can’t deny it. You can’t lie to Eddie. It’s pointless. He can always tell.

“I can’t do this, let’s fucking forget it. Please.” Even in the pitch dark of the woods, you can see his big stupid eyes shining at you. “Let’s go find your ghosts. C’mon.”

This is what he’s good at. Diffusing the bomb inside of you just as it’s about to explode. You always have that rage sitting close to the surface. He’s known you long enough to know you’ll do anything – anything – to push him away when you’re feeling hurt. He won’t let that happen when your time left together is so short.

So, you spin your body around. It’s easier when you don’t have your eyes on his face. It’s the face you’ve seen every day for the last 3 years. It’s the face you think about when you fall asleep at night. It’s the face you see in your dreams. It’s killing you.

The fear must be back, because Eddie’s thick fingers are gripping your bicep like his life depends on it. The light of the flashlight bounces across the leaf covered path, and you catch sight of what you’ve been looking for. A stone foundation, and the stone bridge beyond it.

Beer cans are littered around, a testament to the spot’s popularity. Someone had a fire there recently, you can see the remains of burned logs just off the path. It’s not technically a historic spot, but the rumors persist. The witch’s house and the bridge where she left her baby to die. So the legend goes. It’s bullshit, of course.

“You ok back there, tough guy?” Somehow, the grip on your arm is tighter, and Eddie is practically climbing your back with how close he is. A warm feeling of fondness spreads through you at the feeling. He wears his leather armor, but he’s so soft underneath. The only time he went to a haunted house with you, he made you lead him through it while he walked with his eyes closed. He screamed every time anyone brushed up next to him.

“I’m fine,” his voice is quiet and shaky, “can we please do whatever it is you want to do and get out of here? We can go get a six pack and watch a movie or something.”

“I don’t want to do anything. I just want to smoke a little and see if we see anything.” You shrug his hand off your arm and head to the bridge. The trees open up enough here for the moonlight to shine down creating an eerie atmosphere that contributes to the area’s reputation.

You’re laughing while you watch Eddie’s panicky jog to catch up with you. You’re holding up a joint in triumph and wiggling it at him like an owner offering a treat to their dog for doing a trick.

“You know, I sold this to you, I could smoke my own stash at home.” He grumbles to you, but still accepts your offering. The flash of flame from his lighter makes his face glow. He’s so pretty, all of the time, and it breaks your heart to see. But you push that shit back down as he hands the joint back to you.

You take the joint and grab his hand. His calloused fingers cupping your hand back while you lead him to a spot in the middle of the bridge and sit. You pat the ground next to you in invitation, and he accepts that offering as well. You let your head rest on his shoulder, a thing you’ve done countless times before, but the first time since that night you saw him with Laura.

You watch a cloud pass across the moon, it’s nearly full and you feel so glad to see it like this with him. It almost feels right. It almost feels like you could angle your head up to look at him, but you won’t do that. It feels wrong when the only thing you want is for him to look back and see what you’ve been hiding from him.

“You know,” it’s been quiet for a while, and of course Eddie’s the first one to break, “if I had known –“ you reach your hand up to cover his mouth before he can say anything else.

“Don’t do that,” you whisper out, barely loud enough for him to hear, “just don’t.”

He doesn’t. He lets you have this, let’s you be with him in this spot. Forgetting for a few minutes that when you leave it, he’ll find her. He’ll kiss her, he’ll tell her he missed her. He should do those things, because they’re right and true.

“I’m gonna miss you so fucking much.” His kiss to the top of your head is what finally does it. The dam broken, tears spill down your cheeks. “This is a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Thank you.”

[minbells]

Megumi who doesn’t think there’s anything more breathtaking than the sight of you in this very moment. And yet, there’s nothing too extravagant nor inappropriately enticing about what you’re doing. You’re just, there. And that’s enough for his heart to start racing.

"Can’t sleep?" he attempts a greeting, and you turn your head towards him, surprised to see him up and on the same roof as you in the late hours of night. You have a book on your lap and your fluffy blanket is loose around your shoulders. As he gets closer he can spot goosebumps on your skin. You sleepily smile up at him, your legs dangling on the side of the rooftop and he almost wants to scold you from sitting too close to the edge. Instead his heart just melts because you look absolutely adorable and he wants to kiss you.

"Yeah, it’s just harder to fall asleep some nights," you hum, and you catch an understanding nod from him as he settles next to you. You stay silent for a little bit, book forgotten, and you both stare at the leaves rustling with the wind, appreciating how quiet and secluded Jujutsu Tech is, especially at night. The moon peaks through heavy clouds and your features are enhanced by the gentle glow — Megumi has to slightly shake his head to suppress the lovesick smile that threatens to appear on his lips. Lord, why does he only lose his cool around you?

"We should do something tomorrow," you suddenly blurt out after a long yawn, and it immediately triggers a blush on his cheeks. "You know, we never really hang out just the two of us."

"We’re hanging out right now," he responds before he could stop himself, and you smile sheepishly, turning towards him in an attempt to catch the look on his face. Dread is what you see, because why the hell did he say that? He almost wants to slap himself for his smart ass comment, but you just smile gently at him and all thoughts leave his head at the sight.

"I know, but I mean we should do something when we’re less sleep deprived and stores are actually open. We could go that arcade Yuuji always talks about, win tons of plushies and get into a food coma," your eyes sparkle slightly at the idea — you are so cute — but then you seem to come to your senses. "I mean, we could also do something more, uh, mature I guess, like taking a walk or something, I don’t know… do your demon dogs like to be walked?," you ramble and he finds it so endearing he almost doesn’t realize that you just asked him out.

Wait, did you just asked him out? And then he blurts it out; "Are you asking me out?," and part of him wants to jump off that roof because why is he so awkward about those things meanwhile you’re an absolute angel. There’s a few seconds of silent where your eyes just widen at him and you pull the blanket closer to your body, feeling slightly smaller under the pressure of his question.

"I- I mean," you trail off, avoiding his intense stare at all cost and finding a sudden interest in picking at the dirt under your nails. But then you remember that it’s Megumi, one of the most practical and calculated guy you know, always so unbothered — unless it comes to you, although you’re unaware of the effect you have on him — and you have a feeling that if you’re not completely clear about what you want he’s probably never going to do anything about it.

And so you find enough confidence in yourself to say what you really want to say. "Yes, I’m asking you out. On a date."

Again, the silence is heavy. You wonder if you came on too strong, if you’ve misread the connection that you’ve always felt with him. This wasn’t your first late night talk, and usually you would always train together. You were always close, and you definitely thought that there was something more that the two of you could share together. Meanwhile, he wonders if you’re joking, or maybe you’re sleepwalking and that’s why you ended up on the roof telling him things he would only dream about.

"You don’t have to, you know…" you try not to sound too disappointed.

"I would love to," he responds immediately, almost eagerly, and he scrambles for anything more coherent to say, but your whole face just lights up and you smile so bright at him that all his worries and awkwardness just melts away at the sight of your happiness. Your smile is exactly what he needed to boost his confidence.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven after training, at your dorm," he says right before he loses his cool demeanour again, not realizing that his cheeks are pink and the tip of his ears red, heart pounding and hands suddenly sweaty — yeah he’s definitely not unbothered by you.

You happily lean in and kiss his cheek, only adding to the fire that’s already raging in his soul. "I can’t wait! What should I wear? I’ll ask Nobara… see you tomorrow, Megumi," you stand and leave, almost with a skip in your step, and he’s dumbfounded, completely lost in the moment, staring ahead with nothing but the sound of your lovely voice echoing in his head, saying his first name for the first time.

He’s left smiling so bright his cheeks hurt.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Past Life Reading

Hey fellas! Please please please donate to my CashApp or interact with my post so I can do this full time! If you can't donate please interact with this post. We made it to 200 followers and I can't thank you all enough. Also if y'all wanna suggest readings go ahead and dump those recommendations in my ask box!

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Decks used are the Archetype Oracle, the Anime Tarot, and the Starseed Oracle.

This reading will go over one of your Past Lives and how it affects your current incarnation. Remember reincarnation isn't linear and there are other planets with life on them. HAPPY FULL MOON IN CAPRICORN!! Take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences!

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PILE ONE

Astrology: Taurus, Cancer, Scorpio

Past Life Song: Pale Blue Dot by TWRP

Current Life Song: 3 Strange Days by School Of Fish

Vibes: Black, white, ocean blue, pearl, moldavite, coral reef, seagulls, gold rings, gray hair, globe, strong aura, childlike wonder, peanuts, almonds, sunflower seeds, Zues, Posideon

Cards: The Fool, The Hierophant, Queen of Cups, Justice, The One, The Seed, Perspective, Child of the Cosmos

Welcome, pile one! I am feeling some kind of royalty from this previous life. I think you were a spiritual leader in this life too or you were very involved with spirituality. I think you were probably really superstitious and trusted the divine more than you trusted humans. You had a strong faith in tradition and routine. I see this is a huge contrast to your current life. In this previous life, you were very connected with your guides. I see you could probably communicate with them easily and often. You have many sea spirits that look after you that you connected to in this past life. They followed you because of how much spiritual work you did in this past life. I see in this life you were guided by your living ancestors into the role you took. You had to learn that walking a path for the sake of the collective is a high honor and it is not a role for the weak. You had to give up a lot of opportunities that would have been for selfish gain for the sake of others. You have lots of built-up anger from this past life of sacrifice. You were extremely noble in this past life. In your current life, this behavior still pops up from time to time. You are learning how to serve yourself over serving others. I see you have some people-pleaser tendencies that leak into this life. You are still meant to be spiritual but you are also meant to learn about your own opinions/morals and hold them above the beliefs of the many. I see in this life you are finding your own moral compass. I see you have been betrayed by mentors you thought you could trust with everything. They withheld information that would have been extremely helpful if you had known ahead of time. I see that your parents were not kind to you. Despite these hardships' you still have a pure heart. Except now you are more capable of ruthlessness. Be ruthless in your morals. Serve justice out on a silver plater so your enemies look at their reflection while they face your wrath. In this life, you will release the anger you held from the last. You must be selfish. You must harness your wrath. Seek truth. Do not follow without knowing why you follow.

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PILE TWO

Astrology: Libra, Aquarius, Leo

Past Life Song: Run Boy Run by Woodkid

Current Life Song: Being Real is the New Fake by Toni Jones

Vibes: Mint green, lavender, pink, gold, painting, flower crown, lightning, Celtic knots, ribbon, modesty, alchemy, museums, strawberry, smoking, drinking, dive bars, Hermes, Persephone

Cards: The Empress, The World, Death, 2 of Swords, The Creator, The Riddle, You're Not Alone, Cracked Open

Hello, pile two! I see you were a traveler in this specific past life. I see you traveled in style and luxury. You didn't start in luxury though. You earned it. You worked hard for the opportunities you gained. I see you had to jump many obstacles that didn't make much sense, in the moment. Some of them were difficult for you to pass but others were a breeze. I think you were a pilot for the military. You earned many awards while in service. You saw the most beautiful sights in situations that didn't allow you to appreciate them. You lost so many friends to a nasty war. This made you feel really alone. After you finished serving in the military, I think you became an airline pilot. This allowed you to be in the sky and make more friends along the way. I see you enjoying tourism and seeing the sights. You got to experience so many different cultures and learned to love every part of the planet for its different aspects. I see you took many lovers in your travels but never settled down. You picked up a creative hobby in your travels. I see maybe a martial art also became a hobby of yours in this life. You learned in that life that humans can be scary and life can be hell but you also learned that humans are wonderfully creative and life can be heaven. You had the pleasure of seeing every part of what it is like to be alive. The good and the bad. In your current life, I see you still are quite creative. You pull a lot of inspiration from other cultures. I feel you miss the sky a lot. You might create lots of art relating to the sky. In this life, you are learning how to connect with your fellow humans. You traveled so much in your past life, this definitely made it hard to make permanent connections. Now you must adjust to stay grounded and learn to live in mostly one spot. Don't fret though. You will still travel spiritually. Your soul is a free one and needs to see the stars once more.

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PILE THREE

Astrology: Sagittarius, Virgo, Pisces

Past Life Song: Sunday Candy by Nico Segal

Current Life Song: Live Your Life by MIKA

Vibes: Cyan, periwinkle, peach, orange, butterflies, Jupiter, Saturn, tigers-eye, winter, sports, yen coins, peregrine falcon, feminity, Hestia, Hera

Cards: Page of Wands, 10 of Cups, 5 of Pentacles, 4 of Swords, Agape, Gnosis, You're Not For Everyone, The Void

Hey there, pile three! Welcome to your reading. I see in this past life you were a romantic. You were perhaps a mother in this life or you took the role of one to your community. You had an abundance of love that you handed out like candy. I see you were very spiritual and read many religious texts in your spare time but this wasn't something you shared like your love. You supported many youngins in their dreams but never got to fulfill your own. You were too busy making food for your children and community. You were planning events and hosting parties for your family reunions. You were the glue that held together your loved ones. I see you went under-appreciated a lot of the time but you were immensely respected by everyone you knew. Even when you grew old you still had the heart of a spry little one. It surprised everyone how active of a person you were. I see you lived a loooooong life. You learned how to lead and how to see the love everywhere you went. In this life, you are meant to fulfill the dreams you couldn't in the last one. I see you seeking knowledge. Maybe you are a student. I see you putting aside your studies to help teach others. Old habits die hard I guess. Make sure you are spending your current life on yourself. Your community was assisted enough in your previous life. You definitely reincarnated into the same family. I see you have both a grand trine or a grand square in your astral chart. Allow yourself to learn for the sake of you. Learn that selfishness isn't as evil as people say it is. I hope you find the information you are looking for in this life. Your soul is determined to gain knowledge so allow it to learn. Allow yourself to be an oddity. Allow yourself to be the black sheep that isn't understood. You don't have to take the same role you took in your last life. You can serve yourself. You should be your priority.

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PILE FOUR

Astrology: Capricorn, Aries, Gemini

Past Life Song: Discovery Album by Daft Punk (yes the whole album)

Current Life Song: Me@U by Middle Milk

Vibes: Soft pink, rainbows, yellow, owl, pyramid, egg, horns, mountains, quartz, karma, star clusters, long hair, short bangs, malachite, copper, Sirius, mental health issues, Iris, Apollo

Cards: The Devil, Queen of Swords, Ace of Pentacles, 8 of Wands, The Vision, The Starborn, Messenger, Star Ancestors

Hey there, pile four. Welcome to your past life reading! You had it pretty rough in your past life. You spent a lot of it seeing weird visions and remembering other worlds. I see you could have been suffering from intense mental health issues. You were most likely hospitalized for a lot of your previous life. Your body was chained to earth but your mind was elsewhere. Your soul was being pulled into the astral realm by your guides and ancestors. Meanwhile, your body was facing incarceration. You could have other past lives on other planets and your last life consisted mostly of your soul adjusting to Earth's energy. Your soul is not new at all but it is semi-new to Earth. You were learning how wild Earth can be. You had to acclimate to the lower vibrations. There is nothing wrong with low vibrations by the way. They were just different than what you were used to. I see in this life you still have crazy dreams and visions. You are really attuned to the spirit realm. You are just now experiencing Earth for the first time consciously. You are meant to be a seer on earth while simultaneously learning all you can about what it is like to be human. You serve as a messenger for those who don't have the skill to hear the spirit realm as well as you do. You are learning very fast that it is rough out here. You are just starting to feel the weight of karmic connections. You will be learning a lot here but your main mission is to bring as much harmony and balance as possible to Earth. You understand how sick Earth is right now and it hurts you to think about but you have the wisdom to help her feel better. You have the wisdom to assist humans. It is hidden in your soul, friend. This is an opportunity to heal her and her citizens. I know it is tough out here and I'm really sorry that it is. I wish you could have had a warmer welcome but this is a fantastic opportunity.

[sehtoast]

Rebirth (Homelander x OC)

18+ | heavy descriptions of gore, s4 e4 spoilers, the bad room, mentions of sexual abuse/trauma, torture, they're making each other worse in this one actually and homie deserves that kind of ride or die vibe | Fic Directory

“So, how do you feel?”  

Such a simple question for such a… gruesome task.  Benjamin had gone with Homelander to his moment of reconciliation.  Even helped him pipe sloppy icing writing onto that ugly little Carvel cake.

He knew everything.  Long ago, after busting into Stan Edgar’s personal terminal, Ben found the tapes and files on Homelander’s childhood.  Watching them had been sickening at best, but hearing the personal account as described to him by his lover over the years?

Even the do-no-harm bug himself couldn’t find a reason to prevent Homelander from following through.  He’d found John crying in front of that shattered mirror and pulled him out of his stupor once the banter ended.  Benjamin held him on the couch as he sobbed as he often did after run ins with the different facets of his psyche.  Used to be that there was no one to hold him at all, but the bug changed that.

Homelander would crash, but he would have somewhere safe to burn.

He thought about John’s various accounts of his childhood on the flight to the compound.  The incinerator, the bad room, how on edge he always was under the all seeing eye of big brother.

Usually the violent details emerged after nightmares.  Babbled words and cries for mercy as he tossed and turned until he’d shoot up in bed with his eyes primed to protect himself from his own memories.  Benjamin always held him afterward and listened.

“Sometimes I can still feel it,”  John would say, eyes glassy as he’d fight to keep those little shakes from turning into sobs.  No signs of weakness, no reaction.  Part of his conditioning– he cannot let the world know it hurts.  He cannot be a disappointment.

Ben would all but beg him to let it free anyway.  “You don’t have to be strong with me, pumpkin,”  he would always whisper.  “I love you even when you’re not.  Promise.” 

“But I– I have to be,”  Homelander would reply.

Benjamin always asked why.

John could never give an answer.

The worst were the more… intimate details.  Benjamin knew less about these, but there’d always been a sneaking suspicion that things along the lines of that happened.

Homelander spilled the beans after a panic attack during foreplay.  Stuttered out the details of masturbating during the security guard’s breaks. Doing what young boys do, he’d said.  Failing to finish in time and finding himself subject to mockery day in and out.

The resulting body image and self confidence issues, and the occasional difficulty with performance were all the consequence of some jackass further torturing the boy who never had a safe moment to feel what he described as the only good he could find in that awful room.  

Each time, Ben held him.  Promised him he was safe.  There’s no judgment, no mockery, no humiliation, and certainly no name-calling.  With kisses pressed to John’s knuckles, the two would talk it out until the world became steady again.

It’s why Benjamin doesn’t mind watching John laser that piece of shit’s dick clean off.  He doesn’t bat an eye to any of it.  The torture they face is but a fraction of what they’d done to that little boy– a drop in the lake of the things they swear up and down they don’t recall.

The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.

After listening in on Barbara’s account of Homelander’s conditioned obedience and the nature of his birth, he finds he has no problem holding her steady as his love slaughters the rest of them before her eyes.  

Bit by bit, he dismembers them.  Split them in two and paints the room with their remains.  He laughs and laughs, grinning wide and proud as he pries a man’s jaw open until his neck splits just to rip the tongue from his gullet and chuck it at her face.  He doesn’t stop until they’re no more than unrecognizable piles of flesh and viscera. 

True to their perfected teamwork, Ben webs Barbara to the wall to feast her eyes upon Homelander’s good work, and John?

Well, lasering the door and melting it forever shut was ingenious.

She will die in there, nice and slow. It’s no less than she deserves.

It’s heartbreaking to see how little it did to soothe Homelander’s pain.  Revenge, as Benjamin had told him many times, never quite worked out the way people wanted it to.  It’s potent for as long as it takes for the elevator to reach the surface.  It simmers during the flight.  Fades by the time they touch down at the tower.

And then turns to deep, lurching sobs as they shower it all away.

Release, yes… but not enough.  

It could never be enough.

“Johnny–”

“Homelander,” he chokes through tears. He’d been correcting people all day about his name.  “I’m– I just–”

Ben shushes him softly, thumbs swiping away the odd gooeyness of blood and tears.

“H-Homelander… just–” he tries again.  “Just for now… please…” 

Because Homelander was safe.  Homelander had the strength to overcome.  Homelander was the ideal and the power to protect himself.

The arms around Ben’s abdomen pull him impossibly closer.

“Homelander,” Benjamin murmurs, still stroking softly at his love’s face.  “I love you.”

Maybe not the best thing to say to the man claiming to be casting off the shackles of love, but certainly something always worth reminding him of while he crumbles.  There’s a million promises behind those three little words.

I love you when it hurts.  I love you when it doesn’t.

When it is ugly.

When it is beautiful.

As long as it is you.

His love succumbs to more cries, but Homelander knows, deep down, that it’s okay.

He is safe.

He is loved.

There will be no mockery. No humiliation.

Here, in the arms of his little spider, he need not be strong.  Here, he may simply be.

[avonne-writes]

happy b-day! 🍰

from the prompts: [ TUG ] receiver, trying to get ready for the day, is pulled back into bed by sender

Thank you, dear anon! 💕 Have some silly HS AU fluff. Set in the summer between Year 10 and 11, so they’re 16. Harding and Georgia have just started seriously dating.

~

Gale wakes up to the rumble of a motorcycle outside the window. Half-asleep, it takes his brain a moment to register the sensations around him. The stuffy air of Bucky’s room, hot and humid from the late morning sunshine that pushes the summer heat inside despite the drawn blinds. The warmth of an arm around his waist, sweat gathering where skin meets skin. His bare legs, tangled with Bucky’s, the ticklish feeling of hair catching on hair. Bucky’s peaceful breathing against his neck, where Gale knows a giant hickey blooms. They were going to steal a bit of make-up from Georgia to cover it up, but he doesn’t think they will get a chance now.

Gale’s eyes snap open in horror. She came home early!

“Fuck!” He swears and scrambles to get up. At the last moment, he remembers his nakedness, and feels the rush of blood to his cheeks at the realization. He’s not wearing anything. Not. A single. Thing. And neither does Bucky. This was the first time that they actually slept like this, and of course, of course this is the one time when she comes home before she said she would. Gale allows himself a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and purse his lips in that dreadful feeling of dismay that follows. He should’ve known!

Cursing in panic in his mind, he looks around the room. He’s too self-conscious to just stand up and search for his underwear like this, so he pulls the thin summer blanket around his waist as a cover. But he’s too slow - all the jostling around woke Bucky up too and, predictably, the first thing he does is wrapping his long arms around Gale’s middle and pulling him back down.

The way Gale lands on his back with his hair splayed on the pillow feels like defeat.

“Good morning, baby.” Bucky purrs, blinking at him lazily, unperturbed by the wide-eyed look Gale shoots him.

“Your mom’s home.”

“So?” Bucky rubs their noses together. “Not like she’s gonna come in here. Let’s cuddle for a few more minutes.” His voice ends on a whine.

“She’s so gonna come in.” Gale hisses at him, moving to stand up again, but Bucky holds him tighter in his embrace and starts kissing his cheek and neck. The way it makes Gale shiver and go boneless when those lips touch the hickey is super embarrassing, but he can’t help it. It’s so thrilling, so new, and his limbs seem to melt from the fluttering kisses, entirely out of his control. He lays his palm on Bucky’s biceps and gets lost in it for a moment, until he hears the engine shut off, then a man’s laugh from outside.

His blood runs cold in fear.

“Is that the guy?” He whispers as if Georgia’s boyfriend was standing just outside the door. “Bucky, is that the guy?”

“Geez, Buck, relax.” Bucky rubs Gale’s chest over Gale’s frantically pounding heart. “He’s not scary at all.”

Not scary, not scary. What does Bucky know about that? Gale grouches pettily in his own head but doesn’t say anything out loud. He knows that Bucky hasn’t had a male figure in his life since middle school, and even then, it’s not like his dad was ever around enough to show him how quickly a friendly hand could turn into a weapon.

“I need to get dressed.”

Bucky lets him extricate himself from the embrace, but he makes no move to follow him, not even when Gale steals the blanket to look for his clothes. He just sprawls there on his stomach, pale ass on display, without a care in the world. Gale avoids looking at him altogether. The clothes he wore yesterday are too wrinkled to be presentable and not exactly fresh-smelling, so he opens Bucky’s closet and rummages around until he finds the stuff he left here over the past couple of weeks, washed clean and smelling like the floral detergent Georgia uses. He puts them on, feeling better already as they cover his bare skin. He goes to throw the blanket on Bucky, but he doesn’t account for Bucky’s long-ass arms and his habit of pouncing on Gale out of pure affection. Before he knows it, his arms are grabbed, and he’s yanked back down on the mattress.

Despite himself, Gale laughs as he and Bucky wrestle, and then they're kissing, just like that. Gale is so into it that he completely forgets about everything else the moment Bucky presses him down and licks between his parted lips. He cups Bucky’s face and strokes his cheeks with his thumbs as they make out, pushing his chin up to take more, to get him closer. It’s been so intense lately, even painful sometimes because nothing feels like enough, and Gale is burning up with it. The past month has been nothing short of an inferno. He didn’t realize that having sex would affect everything else too. He didn’t know.

Downstairs, the front door opens.

“John.” Gale breaks away from Bucky's mouth with a sticky sound and a gasp. He rarely calls Bucky by his first name because it feels too serious, but when they're like this, in each other's arms, something in him longs to connect to him like that. “What if he comes inside?”

Bucky combs his fingers through Gale's messy hair, catching on a few knots and making Gale wince by accident. “His name is Chick.”

“Chick?” Gale makes a face. “You can’t call him Chick.”

“Why not?” Bucky grins, cocky in a way that's entirely for Gale’s entertainment. “That’s his biker name.”

Gale snorts a laugh. Biker name. Right. He can tell that Bucky’s already hooked on the cool persona this guy displays, regardless of how much of it is true. Something protective flares to life in Gale's stomach at the thought. It makes him braver. He doesn’t want Bucky to get attached to some asshole replacement of his father and have his heart broken all over again. “What does your mom call him?”

Bucky lays his head on Gale’s chest and cuddles him again. “Neil.”

Gale knows he shouldn't stay like this. He should try to sort out the tangle of his hair and come up with a solution to hide the love bite before Georgia sits them down to give them the Talk. He shudders just thinking about it. He knows that Bucky already got it once, last year when Gale stayed the night for the first time. Bucky claims it was the most embarrassing moment of his life, and although there's tough competition for that title, Gale is inclined to believe it.

But the weight of Bucky's head and arm feels so comforting that he can’t help but close his eyes again, smiling at the ceiling in contentment. He pets at Bucky's hair and marvels at the shape of his curls under his palm.

The front door closes and, to Gale's relief, the motorbike roars to life again and rides away.

"Johnny, I’m home!" Georgia calls out downstairs. Normally, Bucky would already be there, nosing around in her bags to see if she bought any food, but not today.

Instead, he groans, ducks lower in bed and attempts to wriggle under Gale’s armpit, between his side and the bed. Gale shifts to get up again, but Bucky continues clinging to him, and they laugh and push at each other too loudly to hear the stairs creak.

Next thing they know, there's a knock on the door.

Gale jumps up as if burned and takes a few steps away from the bed, but there’s nowhere to run or hide. His hair is a mess, there are clothes strewn over the floor, even the fucking lube is on the bedside table, he realizes with utter, blinding panic. But there’s nothing he can do about it - the door handle moves, and all they have time for is for Gale to slap a hand over the side of his neck and Bucky to drape the blanket fully over himself. A split second later, Georgia takes a step inside the room.

The moment her soft brown eyes land on Gale, she lights up. "Oh, hi sweetheart, I didn’t know you stayed the night."

Gale's face is aflame. Frozen in place like an idiot, he probably looks even more awkward than he feels. "Um, yeah. Hi Georgia."

"Is your neck all right?" She asks in concern.

"Yeah, just a crick." He laughs, too breathy not to give away the lie, but it’s overshadowed by the cry that comes from Bucky at the same time.

"Mom, go away!"

"I'm going!" She raises her hands apologetically, but her lips are wobbling into a smile. "Just wanted to check on you, darling."

"I'm not five!" Bucky exclaims again, holding his head with both hands in mortification.

"All right, all right!" Georgia gives Gale a fondly amused look, then shuts the door and walks down the hall to her own bedroom.

Gale grabs a random piece of clothing from the floor and throws it at Bucky's back. "I told you."

Bucky groans into his pillow.

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐬

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: HAN X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: HOGWARTS(? IT’S MORE OF A COLLEGE THAN JUST HOW IT ORIGINALLY WAS. I JUST WANTED THE HOUSES)!AU, IDIOTS TO LOVERS, READER IS IN SLYTHERIN, HAND KINK, FINGERING, CLIT PLAY, PUBLIC SETTING, TEASING, UNPROTECTED SEX, BOOB PLAY, PULL OUT METHOD, PET NAMES (BABY) ☾ ━━━ WC: 4.2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Han Jisung was annoying to Y/n. His personality, his little pranks around campus, how he challenged everything she said, and his good looks. The last part she hated the most. Since their year hit puberty, Jisung was one of the guys people from every house tried asking out or had a crush on. She, unfortunately, was no better. But she refused to let it fester.

     “If you keep staring at him, he’s gonna find out you like him,” Seungmin scared her out of her thoughts.

     “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” Y/n scolded him and punched his shoulder.

     “I’m just saying,” He chuckled and rubbed his shoulder, “You should stop reading all those enemies to love books in the library. It’s starting to influence your love life.”

     “You’re just trying to get hit today,” Y/n challenged him.

     Jisung watched the two’s interaction from across the courtyard. He had been listening to Minho and Chan talk till he caught a glimpse of Y/n over the yard. Now playfully arguing with her housemate.

     “Jisung!” Minho yelled at him.

     “Yeah?!” He answered, scared

     “What do you think?” His friend asked

     “No, yeah. Totally,” Jisung tried to sound like he was paying attention but Minho and Chan both knew better.

     “Alright. I’ll ask Y/n out after class then,” He deadpanned his friend

     “Huh?!”

     “He’s not asking Y/n out, relax,” Chan reassured him, “Just trying to get your attention for this weekend.”

     “What’s this weekend?” Jisung asked, eyes still on Y/n as he watched her and Seungmin walk away.

     “Hogsmeade…” Chan reminded him

     “What about it?”

     “If you weren’t busy daydreaming, you would know,” Minho retorted.

     “Ji, what do we do every Hogsmeade visit?”

     “Oh! Pub! Got it!” Jisung remembered, “I’ve got to get to class. Later.”

     Jisung bolted up and grabbed his things and quickly left the two.

     “His next one is with Y/n, isn’t it?” Chan asked

     “Yep.” Minho popped the ‘p’ and the two sighed. Opting to go to their classes.

     Jisung spent the majority of his class with Y/n stealing glances at her. Both of them sat in the back so he found it easy to look across the room and see her concentrating on the lesson. Not aware she was doing the same thing. 

     Every class, he tried to work up his courage to ask her out but she was always out the door before he could. Y/n had caught his glances a few times and did not want to find out what they were about at the end of the day so she’d left as quick as she could. Didn’t help they shared all their classes. So even though she wanted to see him, she didn’t at the same time. 

     Jisung just had to wait another time and would complain to his friends during the weekend. 

     “Why don’t you just send her a letter?” Hyunjin suggested when Jisung brought up his problem. 

     “Yeah. Then you don’t have to do it face-to-face,” Changbin agreed

     “Yes, get rejected over mail.” Jisung said, “Chan, you guys are in the same house.”

     “And I have zero clue about what she says about you,” Chan added

     Jisung laid his head on the table. Chan patted his back to reassure him it’d be okay. Minho eyes drifting towards the door. “Felix probably knows,” he said, seeing the blond walk in with the girl they were talking about and their two other friends— Seungmin and Jeongin.

     “Okay, but he’s always at quidditch practice so how am I—” Jisung had to stop midsentance when he lifted his head and saw the group. 

     “Well,” Minho instigated

     Jisung just slid down in their booth. Hoping not to be spotted, just for Changbin to kick his shin. “Owe!”

     “Sit up!” Changbin said

     “Don’t fight,” Chan reminded as they watched the group take a table on the side of the room.

     “Well,” Minho said

     “Someone cast an invisibility spell and go over there,” Jisung said

     “You need a charm for that,” Chan stated

     “Just rip the bandaid off and tell her you like her,” Hyunjin argued

     “It’s not that easy!” Jisung exclaimed

     “You haven’t tried,” Hyunjin argued

     “Min, where are you going?” Chan asked as the second oldest was getting up

     “Refill,” Minho said, holding up his empty glass.

     “Get me some more too,” Changbin said, holding his almost empty glass up.

     Minho rolled his eyes but agreed anyway. Walking up to the bar and ordering two more drinks. Not his full intention, but he needed an excuse. He felt the need to give his friend a push, even if it meant pissing him up a little bit. 

     Y/n had gotten up from her friend group and gone to the bathroom. Coming out and accidentally bumping into Minho. The male quickly grabbed her to stabilize her before she fell back, even if she wasn’t going to.

     “Sorry Minho. I wasn’t paying attention,” Y/n apologized as she took a step back.

     “It’s okay,” Minho smiled “Got a lot on your mind, you look out of it.”

     “Kind of,” Y/n shrugged

     “Wanna talk about it over a drink?” He offered

     “Maybe another time? I’m here with friends,” Y/n suggested

     “How about next weekend?” 

     Y/n blinked at him for a minute, “Sure,” she finally answered

     “It’s a date then,” Minho smiled as his drinks were handed to him and he walked away. 

     Y/n watched him walk back to his table, handing a drink to Changbin, and noticed the group. Chan, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung.

     Y/n didn’t know how to feel about the last staring at her as she just went back to her friend group.

     “That took a while,” Jeongin commented as she sat in their booth.

     “Accidently bumped into Minho,” she sighed, “He asked me on a date. I think?”

     “Huh?!” Felix exclaimed.

     “It can’t be a coincidence we were talking about your crush then his best friend asked you on a date,” Seungmin laughed

     “It might be,” Y/n defended, “They’re on the other side of the room, there’s no way they heard us.”

     “Either way, I still think you should stop avoiding Jisung and give him a chance,” Felix brought the conversation back to their previous one— her crush on Jisung that she refused to talk about.

     “Nope,” Y/n said

     “Y/n,” Felix sighed

     “You know he’s probably got a crush on you too,” Jeongin said

     “No way,” Y/n denied

     “Now that you mention it—” Felix started

     “No! Don’t mention it,” Y/n interrupted

     “I did notice him staring at you the other day in the courtyard,” Seungmin said.

     “This is not what I wanted to come here for,” Y/n groaned, hanging her head low and covering her ears.

     “The sooner you admit it the sooner it stops,” Jeongin said next to her, pulling a hand away from her ear.

     “Lix,” Y/n whined, looking at the Hufflepuff for support.

     “They have a point,” he shrugged

     “I hate you all,” Y/n groaned

     She absolutely hated how right the three were. She crashed onto her bed as soon as she and Seungmin made it back to the Slytherin dorms. The male followed her up to check in on her. 

     “Hey,” he said, sitting next to her, “We didn't mean to push you back there.”

     “I know, just doubt he returns my feelings,” Y/n groaned, “Feels like I'm just getting my hopes up.”

     “Maybe stop looking away from him when you think he's about to catch you staring and you’ll see what the rest of us see,” Seungmin patted her back before getting off the bed and leaving the dorm room. 

     “Min,” Jisung whined for the umpteenth time, trying to coax his friend into telling him what he had talked to his crush about 

     “We just caught up a bit after she bumped into me,” Minho answered. The same answer he had been giving Jisung since they got back to the Gryffindor dorms. 

     “She didn’t say anything about me?” Jisung questioned 

     “No. You didn’t come up in conversation,” yet.

     “Promise?” 

     “Yeah.” Minho agreed. Getting the boy off his back for now. 

     Didn’t stop him from asking the rest of the week. In between his staring at the girl in question. Getting caught a few times during their lectures by her which ended in a couple of odd staring contests till she rolled her pretty eyes and turned back to the lesson. 

     Jisung laid his head down in defeat and picked himself back up when they were dismissed. 

     “Where’s Min?” Jisung asked as the four out of five in their group slid into their normal booth. 

     “Said he had a date,” Hyunjin answered 

     The group shrugged and let it go. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Minho to go on a date. Their chatter continued as they caught up on classes and their other activities. Specifically the quidditch match at the end of next week. Gryffindor vs Slytherin. This meant Chan playing against Changbin and Minho, which the group always found fun to watch. 

     “No way,” Hyunjin said out of the blue, making the other three look where he was looking. 

     Seeing their friend walk in with Y/n before the two made their way to the opposite end of the room. 

     “I thought he was joking about asking her out,” Chan said in disbelief 

     “Since when has he ever joked about doing something like that?” Changbin asked, “I understand why he did. It is Y/n.”

     “Not helping,” Chan said, motioning to Jisung, still staring at the two. 

     “Stop staring,” Hyunjin said, turning the boy’s attention to the group. 

     “We’ll ask him what it was about later. Just relax for now,” Chan said

     The four did wait it out, not very long thankfully. It was an hour and a half of sneaking peeks at the table before the two got up and Y/n left the pub and Minho joined them.

     “How was your date?” Changbin smirked

     “Eh, not a date. Mostly gave her an ear to vent a problem too.” Minho shrugged and took a seat

     “Would you like to share with the class?” Hyunjin said, leaning forward.

     “She’s got a crush,” Minho said

     “Who?” Jisung asked

     “Didn’t say. Just talked about her issue with it and her friends trying to convince her to talk to him.     “What house?” Jisung asked

     “Didn’t say. He’s not in Slytherin.”

     “Are you gonna fight the guy?” Changbin asked

     “Yes,” Jisung said without hesitation.

     The four looked at each other before just letting it go, at least until Jisung left the table.

     “Are they two blind idiots in love with each other?” Changbin asked

     “A hundred percent,” Minho confirmed

     Jisung spent all week trying to figure out who he was going to fight. Anyone without the black and green robe was under his suspicion. The only ones he had ruled out were Felix and Jeongin. 

     “Are we not addressing Jisung just sticking way closer than usual?” Jeongin asked as the four sat in the courtyard

     “I ignore it,” Y/n shrugged

     “Until he’s not looking at you,” Felix remarked

     “Then she’s daydreaming,” Seungmin smirked, making a kissy face at her to tease her

     “Stop it,” Y/n said, almost hitting him with her divination textbook, the boy effectively dodging it.

     “At this point, it’s going to be Seungmin that exposes your crush,” Jeongin said

     “If she didn’t tell Minho on their date,” Seungmin retorted

     “Why would I tell him? They’re friends.”

     The clock tower rang, signaling the hour. The four got up to head to class and Jisung headed to his own class as well. Potions, one of the many he had with Y/n. Luck managed to be on his side today as their teacher paired everyone up— pairing him and Y/n up.

     Letting everyone get to their stations before further explaining the mixture of the day. Jisung barely paid attention, looking towards the professor but mostly looking at her.

     “Jisung,” Y/n snapped him out of his trance, snapping her fingers at him

     “Huh?” He asked

     “Were you paying attention?” She asked

     “Partially…?”

     Y/n rolled her eyes, “Can you go grab the ingredients?” She asked, showing him the list from her textbook

     “Yeah,” He nodded, grabbing his own and flipping to the page. Getting up to grab what they needed. 

     Y/n let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She should get an award for acting like catching him staring at her didn't affect her. Until Jeongin walked by her table. She forgot for a moment she had him in this class too. 

     The Ravenclaw said nothing. Just gave her a knowing look. Y/n glared at him before Jisung came back to their station. Basket of ingredients in hand. 

     Y/n regained her composure and the two got to work. At least she did. Jisung helped here and there but mostly watched her. Watching every little move; rolling up her sleeves, rereading a step before she did it to make sure she was doing it right to how she tucked her hair behind her ears. The tips of them slightly tinted

     “You feel okay?” he asked 

     “Huh?” she turned to look at him. Confused and cheeks tinted slightly as well. 

     “You feel okay? You look flushed.”

     ‘You would too if you could feel your crush staring at you as you work,’ she thought, “Fine. Just a little warm.”

     “Let me do some of the work. You can read off the instructions,” Jisung offered

     Y/n didn't have time to respond before he took over. Y/n cleared her throat and read him the instructions from the textbook. Trying not to look at him for too long. Even if she couldn't help herself side-eyeing him a bit— eyes lingering a little too long on his hands. 

     ‘I wonder how they would feel in—”

     “Y/n,” Jisung snapped her out of her thoughts. 

     “Sorry,” Y/n said, ignoring whatever he was going to say, and gave him the next instruction. 

     Y/n walked him through finishing the potion. Calling their professor over to check their work. Gladly passed the two of them and had them write a report before they were dismissed. Y/n all but booked her way out of the classroom before Jisung or god forbid Jeongin said anything. 

     Booking it down the hall to the library. Thankful she had a free period and could calm down a bit in the library, study for classes. Hiding as far as she could from thd door and diving into her textbooks, cautiously peering up at the door every so often. 

     Twenty minutes into her studying, she had barely any clue Jisung was a few tables away from her. Pretending to study. It wasn’t till she set her quill down to stretch that she locked eyes with the Gryffindor. 

     Both refused to look away until Jisung looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/n looked back at her book and picked up her quill. Resting her forehead in her hand, her attempt at not looking at him. 

     Jisung originally did come to try and study but now was completely distracted. Keeping his eyes on Y/n as she worked. 

     ‘How can she be so hot while studying?’ Jisung thought. 

     He wasn’t getting any work done, that was for sure. He should pack up and leave but he didn’t feel like it. Rather he leaned back and mentally beat himself up. Maybe he should confess. Just get it off his chest, handle the rejection. Maybe not face to face though. His eyes landed on his textbook. Portal spell. 

     Y/n managed to lose herself in her studies again until she felt a poke on her thigh. She jumped a bit before looking under the table, moving her leg to the side. Looking at the small portal, a hand sticking out with a piece of paper. Jisung’s hand.

     Y/n looked up at him and he just smiled at her. Y/n glared at him before grabbing the folded paper from his hand. 

     ‘I’m sorry for staring in class and just now. I know you find me annoying but I’ve had the biggest crush on you for years now’

     Y/n looked up at him, finding the boy blushing. Judging by how warm her face was, she probably was too. She shifted in the chair a bit and accidentally brushed her thigh against his hand. His hand was warm and it made her shiver a bit. 

     Jisung looked up and watched her reaction. He ran his hand along her thigh again. Hearing a small moan come from the portal he had made under his table and watched her cover her mouth with a fist. 

     “Heard that,” he whispered and watched her eyes go wide, “Feel good?”

     Y/n nodded and tried composing here again. 

     “Can make you feel better. Just gotta spread those pretty legs.”

     “We're in the library, are you crazy?” Y/n whispered 

     “For you.”

     Y/n glared at him from her table. “It's your fault if we're caught.”

     Jisung smiled as he looked down and watched her thighs part. He was impressed with how he managed to open the portal in perfect view of her pussy.

     Y/n scooted her chair in a bit and slouched a bit, giving him a bit of better access as she tried to look like she was still working. Jisung moved his hand forward and ran two fingers up and down her clothed pussy. Not missing the building wet spot he felt, especially when he added a bit more pressure on her clit. 

     Y/n gripped her quill tighter, trying not to focus too much on Jisung playing with her pussy. But it was getting harder as he was moving her panties to the side. Y/n glanced around the area. No one else was in the back with them. She set her quill down, pulled the fabric down her legs and caught Jisung's wide eyes. She slipped the fabric off her feet and sat back. 

     “Let me hold them,” Jisung whispered 

     “What?!”

     “I’ll give the back. Or do you want someone to see you holding them?”

     Y/n handed him the fabric and watched his hand retract from the portal before reappearing. His hand disappeared under her skirt and she could feel the hands she’d been staring at last period. 

     Two of his fingers ran through her wet folds as his thumb slowly circled her clit. Jisung watched her cover up her moans and bury her nose in her textbook. Jisung pressed a little bit more on her clit and dipped the tips of his fingers into her hole. Watching as her head dipped down and she bit her lip. 

     “I’ve barely done anything to you and you look like you’re about to cum,” Jisung chuckled, curling his fingers up into her, “Saw you looking at my hands in class. Get turned on thinking about them inside you?”

     “Yes,” Y/n whined 

     “Can have ‘em whenever you want, baby. Just got to ask.”

     Y/n covered her mouth again and glanced between her book and him. Mind focused on his fingers and the damn near primal look in his eyes. ‘Fuck that’s hot’ 

     Her walls clenched around his fingers. Thumb picked up its pace and brought her closer to her release. Slowly grinding against him as best she could. 

     “‘M close,” Y/n whined 

     “Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers?” Jisung teased

     “Mhmm.”

     Jisung brought her closer and closer before he pulled away from her. Y/n quickly looked up at him, catching his smirk before he looked down.

     “Look at that pretty pussy,” Jisung’s voice came through the portal. Watching her twitch in her seat. 

     “Jisung,” Y/n whined, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his gaze

     “Can’t wait to taste it.” Jisung’s fingers were in her again and picked up right where he left off— same pace and all. 

     She didn’t know how long Jisung sat and edged her. Every time she was about to cum he would take it away from her. The torture only stopped when the library door opened. Jisung pulled his fingers out of her and closed the small portal. 

     Eyes didn’t leave hers as he licked his fingers clean. Y/n sat up and quickly packed her things before making her way over to his table. Jisung watched her walk over and slowly packed his things. “Come on,” Y/n said. 

     “Where?” Jisung smirked as he stood and grabbed his bag

     “Please, just follow me.” Y/n grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the door 

     “Wait,” Jisung said as he tugged her into him

     “What?”

     “Be my girlfriend?”

     “After you just fingered me through a portal for how long?” Y/n smiled, grabbing his tie and pulling his lips to hers. Enjoying the way he moaned helplessly against her lips in contrast to the confidence he had moments ago. 

     Jisung pulled her closer before she pulled away, “That’s a yes, right?” He confirmed

     “Yes, idiot. I’ve had a crush on you for a while too,” Y/n said

     “Really?!” he said a bit too loud 

     Y/n shushed him before dragging him out of the library.

     “I was who you liked?” He asked as they got into the hallway.

     “Were you trying to figure out who I liked?” Y/n asked him, almost dragging him down the halls

     “Maybe…”

     “Why?”

     “Wasn’t going to fight them to impress you.”

     “Guess you’re fighting yourself,” Y/n smiled

     “I’ll win,” Jisung smiled as they made their way down the hallways, down to the basement.

     “I know Chan’s brought me into the Slytherin house before but I don’t think it’s going to go well if you bring me into your dorm,” Jisung said

     “It’s why we’re not going to my dorm,” Y/n smirked as she dragged him further into the dungeons.

     Jisung— confused— followed till she pulled him into an old cell, setting her bag down and pulling him back into a kiss. Jisung dropped his bag and happily returned it with the same intense vigor she had as he pushed her toward the closet wall. Y/n moaned as he pressed her flush against the wall. His hands slipped under her skirt and held her hips.

     “Think we should skip the quidditch match this weekend,” Jisung mumbled against her lips as she pushed his house robe off his shoulders.

     “Yeah? And do what?” Y/n asked as he moved his lips onto her neck

     “Have our own match, in bed,” Jisung smirked, moving one hand to loosen her ties and unbutton her shirt a bit 

     “You better start round one right now,” Y/n told him

     “Don’t want me to edge you again?” 

     “Please Ji,” Y/n whined as his hands gripped her ass

     “Fuck you sound so good.”

     Jisung took his hands off her ass and unbuckled his belt and pants. Y/n smiled as his dick was free from the confines of the uniform. He lifted one of her legs and lined himself with her wet hole, all thanks to his teasing in the library. He was glad he hadn’t given her her underwear back either.

     Slowly he pushed into her, listening to her moans right next to his ear as her walls parted for him. He pushed her top and vest up over her chest. Y/n shuddered as the  cold air of the dungeon hit her skin. Quickly warmed up by Jisung’s lips while he bottomed out. 

     “Fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” Jisung groaned, taking a moment to collect himself before he came to early. He was painfully hard from the library too. 

     Y/n tangled her fingers in his hair as he busied himself kissing her boobs. Moving the fabric of her bra down to get more of her. Y/n whined, getting impatient with him staying still inside her as he wrapped his lips around her nipple. “Move Ji.”

     Jisung groaned in response and slowly pulled out and thrusted back into her. Y/n gripped his roots and bit her lip, trying to stop her moans from echoing off the walls. 

     “Fuck,” Y/n whined 

     “Still sensitive from the library?” Jisung teased, one hand moving between them so his thumb could rub her abused clit again. 

     “Yes,” Y/n moaned and clenched around him. 

     “Shit,” Jisung whined. Circling her clit faster just to feel her clench around him again. 

     Y/n tilted her head back against the brick wall. Feeling her high coming on quickly. Stomach tightening with each thrust and circle on her clit. Walls clamped around him till she finally got her long awaited release. Walls pulsing around him as she shook from her high. 

     Jisung followed not too far behind. The pulsing of her walls sent him over the edge. Quickly pulling out once he felt himself about to cum, pumping himself a few times till his load shot onto the wall behind them. Resting his head in her neck as they caught their breath, coming down from their highs.

     “Were you really going to fight someone for me?” Y/n asked

     “Yeah,” Jisung said, lifting his head

     “Don’t think I could of been in love with anyone else, especially after hearing that,” Y/n smiled and pulled him back to her lips.

     Jisung let her leg down as he wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss. “Skip the match with me then?” He asked

     “Don’t want to watch your house lose to mine?” Y/n joked

     “Think it’s the other way around baby.”

     “Guess we’ll just have to skip and fight about it on our own.”

     “Yeah we will.”

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