#(let me know if you want me to untag you i just wanted to give credit where it's due)

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

[cyberm4n]

alastor and lucifer sharing you pt 2!

(i tagged people who commented asking for part 2 but lmk if you want to be untagged)

pt1, pt3

tags: @lu-ferri12 @my-anime-garden @princessdreamss @polytheatrix

cw: explicit smut, not thoroughly proofread, lucifer has a daddy kink, still in a hinge type relationship, hints to radioapple if you squint

other: i wrote part of this while very high so if there's a random perspective change just know i was cooking so hard with writing that i forgot to write in 2nd person pov

■ let's be honest neither of them are particularly interested in the other halfs involvement in this equation

■ but it's incredibly hard to deny that they work well together with you in the bedroom

■ when they want to, of course.

■ so there's a silent agreement between them that they usually put their beef aside cause like. they have you atleast.

■ i think alastor would still want to be close though, so most often your head is laid in his lap or he's touching you somehow

■ but there is a VERY strict line of sight he follows because depending on what exactly is going on this position makes it far too easy for the two men to just be staring at each other and that is 100% a no go for them

■ which i mean, fair enough

■ lucifer does tend to get a little possessive on the rare occasion alastor decides he wants to participate a little

"oh sweetheart, daddy is making you feel so good, right?" he would coo at you as he bullies his cock into you again.

alastor, tilting your head back with his hand, claws scraping at the soft skin of your neck. a good portion of your upper body is laid out on him, his other hand pinning your arm down.

"eyes on me, darling" he'd say, only for lucifer to give a particularly rough thrust, trying to get your attention back.

the main ground rule you had set is that they were not allowed to bicker with each other during intimate moments, so after a whine escapes your throat the two set it aside. for now.

■ i feel like alastor is strictly a dom, especially considering most of the time he's not really physically participating

■ lucifer id say is more of a service top. he wants you to feel good and he wants to know how good you feel.

■ i think he'd bottom if you really wanted him too but like only if he gets to make you feel good yk

■ alastor does particularly enjoy watching lcuifer go down on you, seeing you writhe in pleasure and moan so sweetly is like music to his ears.

■ he'd love to broadcast this

■ there is sometimes alastor takes a complete backseat though

■ maybe he's not in the mood or just wanting a different angle

■ so that's how you ended up riding lucifer while alastor gleefully watches from a chair beside the bed

"s'ok princess, you can do it" lucifer would say, hands on your hips as he guides you down on his cock. you squirm and whimper as he stretches you open.

with his guidance you start gently grinding your hips down, and lucifer lulls his head back, sweet praises falling out of his mouth.

"fuck.. that's it. ride daddy's cock. you're such a good girl" he'd moan as he rubs your clit. it's not long before he gets impatient though, wanting to hear more moans coming out of his pretty girl, hands returning to your hips as he bucks into you.

"you like it when he watches?" lucifer practically growls, hips thrusting up harder now. "cmon baby, talk to me" he'd gently tut, slowing down to such a painfully slow pace.

you're practically reduced to nothing, giving a weak moan, both of their smiles growing wider. "such a good duckling, letting daddy get his fill. gonna fill you up princess" lucifer says as he pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, another thing lucifer loved to do.

■ alastor has never been a fan of the more personalized petnames lucifer calls you

■ "duckling" "ducky" "doll"

■ but he has some of his own

you're on your knees in alastors radio tower, the very rare occasion lucifer just isnt feeling up to it. he's never been a big fan of receiving head, and he's just not feeling it today, comfortably sat in a chair.

alastor on the other hand, his hands are wound tight into your hair as you suck him off. "oh my sweet doe, so desperate to please" alastor would purr, feeling your tongue swirl around his cock.

"i understand why you... indulge so often. our little pet is such a people pleaser, isn't she?" he'd chime to lucifer, who doesn't respond, not really atleast.

■ but aftercare

■ oh aftercare from these two is amazing

■ the only time they firmly agree with each other and leave everything else behind is during after care.

■ it doesn't matter which of them you want or what you want they're gonna make it happen

■ if you want both of them that's great! and they definitely won't get mildy possessive of you at all!!

■ lucifer is definitely a big cuddler

■ and i feel like alastor would be about praise and affirmations, especially after playing "bad cop" the whole time.

■ not that he minds that, mind you.

"darling you were amazing, im so proud of you" he'd say in a much gentler tone, stroking your hair as you lay on lucifers chest, whos pressing soft kisses across your face.

lucifers hands trace soft circles on your back as they both murmur affections to you, and when you finally slump your forehead to lucifers shoulder, they both breathe out a smile.

if he's feeling particularly charitable, lucifer will nod to alastor to take you, to cuddle with you. most of the time alastor declines respectfully, still not really prone to expose himself to touch.

but on the rare occasion he takes the offer, switching places as he cuddles into you, lucifer cracks a little smile.

they really do make a good team, don't they?

[alloftheimagines]

joel miller | complications

masterlist | tag list

words: 2.9k warnings: 18+ | angst, near death experience, blood, reader has a traumatic birth w/complications, PTSD naturally, joel reminded of sarah's death, newbown baby (yes they can be spooky! but this one is cute and safe), (please just somebody take that poor man's pain away) (or not because then what would we write about?) (also he and ellie are a little estranged like in tlou2) prompt: I was thinking maybe Jackson! Joel era and pregnant reader and then she almost dies while giving birth to the baby! Gives room for a lot of drama and angst, and potential comfort right at the end for our favorite old man. tags: (i know it's been a while since I last posted so let me know if you want to be untagged) @sweetbabygirlsworld @m4tthewmurd0ck @domaniquessidehoe @spideysimpossiblegirl note: you can read this as pedro's joel if you so wish, but i am in my game!joel feels rn

“I can’t do this, Joel.” Your face creased with pain as another contraction wracked through you. You’d known that labour would hurt, of course, but you hadn’t expected it to come on this quickly, and so strong. You hadn’t yet passed the eight-month mark, and you weren’t prepared. Not even a little. You hadn’t even sorted the nursery yet, or found a crib.

Joel held your hand on the floor of your living room, keeping you supported while you braced against the couch. He brushed the hair from your face, calm and unreadable as ever, but even you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled against your skin. “You got this, baby girl. I know you can.”

“Don’t think you have much of a choice.” Your doctor, one of the few midwives in town, lifted her head. She sat at your feet, peeling off her gloves after your examination. “You’re fully dilated. This baby is coming right now.”

“There’s no time to get to the infirmary?” you questioned, voice rising in panic. The contractions had barely started an hour ago, and sure, you’d left it a little late before confessing that they were getting painful. Ellie had rushed out not fifteen minutes ago to call for your midwife’s help, and now…

Now, the baby was coming, and all you could think was that it wasn’t supposed to be like this. The pregnancy had been a shock to your system. You hadn’t even been sure that Joel would want to go through with it after everything he’d experienced before. But he’d held your hand through each ultrasound, felt your belly for the first kick, and even when you saw fear — dread, even — cross his features, you could easily reassure him that this time was different. This time, it was safe. You’d lived in Jackson for over a year now, and it was the security of the community that had made motherhood feel possible. 

The midwife shook her head. “I’m sorry. You need to start pushing on your next contraction.”

“Oh, god,” you whispered, teeth chattering as the weight of the situation hit you.

“Hey, look at me.” Joel tilted your chin gently. “It’s gonna be just fine, darlin’. You just breathe and push, okay? We’ll do the rest.” 

“Right, just breathe and push,” you muttered. “Of course, you forgot the part about shoving a small human out of my hoo-ha.” 

He smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Oh, right. That little detail.”

“I kinda hate you right now.” Just as you said it, another contraction hit, and your head fell back as you moaned. 

“Push now if you feel like you should!” your midwife reminded. Then, to Ellie: “Go get some clean towels, hon. Lots of ‘em.”

In the doorway, Ellie looked grateful to be given a job and scampered off. 

You did as instructed, dipping your chin into your chest as you pushed, pushed, pushed. A scream ripped through you at the pain it brought, each moment worse than the last. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. So good. She’s gonna be here so soon,” Joel whispered, his grip around you the only thing keeping you tethered to the here and now. 

Dizziness consumed you as your contraction finally eased. “Is she okay?”

“I’m seeing the head.” The midwife beamed. “Just a few more pushes, okay?”

Somehow, you breathed, and you pushed, and you felt your way through the pain as your body broke and mended and then broke again. Joel kept his grip on your hand tight, reassuring, but you saw him bite his lip toward the end and knew that he might have been just as terrified as you. 

The final push finally came, and you sunk back as the newborn's cry rang out.

“She’s here. You did it,” Joel murmured, kissing your clammy temple. He laughed into your skin, the sound of joy and disbelief sending a shiver through you. You tried to lift your head, to see your daughter, but everything felt wrong. Heavy. It still hurt, and black spots dotted your vision. 

“Le’ me see her.” Your words were slurred, your voice far away.

The last thing you heard was Joel calling your name, his voice raw and broken — terrified. 

***

“What’s wrong with her?” he demanded. 

“She’s bleeding too heavily. I need to get her to the infirmary.”  The midwife shook her head, handing him the screaming newborn. His screaming newborn. It had taken months to quell the panic of becoming a father again — not that he had ever truly stopped. Sarah had lived in his heart all these years, and Ellie was his daughter, even if she hated him for what he did. 

He made the mistake of looking at you, and the sight of the blood made him sick. So much of it. There was so damn much of it. He’d seen a lot of people bleed out, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this much. 

“Shit," he cursed.

He didn’t know when Ellie had returned, but she stood wan and she’ll shocked beside him now.

“Please, take her.” He shoved the baby into her arms before lowering back to his knees to grab your hand. “Don’t you dare do this to me, baby. Not now.” 

“Can you carry her to the infirmary?” the midwife asked desperately.

He didn’t think twice, slipping his arms under your limp body. 

“Joel! She’s gonna be alright, right?” Ellie stuttered, and he heard the panic in her voice, too, as she swayed the baby from side to side, swaddling her in blankets. You were the closest thing Ellie had to a mother. If either of them lost you…

He couldn’t even try to find an answer, as much as he wanted it to be yes.

He gritted his teeth, hauling you up on shaky legs. Thankfully, the infirmary was only a few blocks away, and nobody was there to slow him down so late at night. 

He couldn’t make sense of it. One minute, he’d been settling down for the night after a long patrol shift. The next, you were curled up in pain, claiming the baby was coming. 

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, fingers curling into your old sweater. His old sweater, if he was being particular, but you’d stolen it from him so long ago that it smelled completely of you now: soap and fresh air. Blood. 

He staggered into the infirmary with that smell still in his nostrils, dampness spreading across his hands, and he damn near passed out on the threshold. But he wouldn’t, couldn’t, leave you, even when flashes of him holding Sarah this exact way raced through his mind. Even when a broken sob stuck in his throat, because he was holding on, and you weren’t, and she wasn’t, and why did he always have to be the one to watch the life seep from them? To end the night with nothing but their blood on his hands?

He set you down on the first bed he came to, drawing the alarmed attention of the nurses, who had a moment ago been ready to dose off on their night shift. In such a small community, they weren’t often needed after dark.

Behind him, the midwife called out orders, wheeling you away into the surgery theatre. He watched you disappear into a white-walled room, a tiny thing that never would have sufficed in the old world. 

In the old world, you probably wouldn’t have given birth in a living room. In the old world, he wouldn’t be stiff with a fear he couldn’t control, frozen with memories that refused to ever leave him.

He spun around and felt unsettled to see Ellie cradling the baby, mouth agape with the same cluelessness he felt. His baby. His. He had to be a father now, but he didn’t know how when you weren’t here with him. He felt like that thing he was always losing in his dreams was finally gone for good. Ripped from him one last time.

He couldn’t look at the baby’s cherubic face. Couldn’t even look at Ellie.

He couldn’t remember why he’d been so relaxed just yesterday to think of the little life you’d both been impatiently waiting to begin. Couldn’t remember how he’d found the strength to sing a lullaby to your bump, laughing when a foot kicked his palm as though telling him to shut the hell up. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? She was so tiny and pink and new, wrapped in bloody blankets, and he…

“Go give her to one of the nurses,” he whispered. 

“Joel—” Ellie made to protest, but he couldn’t hear it. Wouldn't.

“Ellie,” he snapped. “Go give her to one of the damn nurses. I can’t.”

“Well, you don’t have a fucking choice, because she’s yours now.” Ellie shoved her into his hands without warning. He tensed with the new weight, bile rising in his stomach. No. No. No. Everything he held, he broke. 

But then the baby let out a gurgle, her feet kicking his palm just like the night before when she was still safe in your belly, and he couldn’t keep from looking down at her. Couldn’t keep from seeing you in all her innocent features. Eyes, nose, even the fine tuft of hair on her head. 

“I can clean her down and check she’s doing okay,” a nurse offered, and suddenly, he was reluctant to let her go. 

And then he remembered you, the blood, your motionless body after so long spent screaming, Ellie’s hatred, Tess, Sarah, and he was glad for somebody else to take care of her. The further away that kid was, the better. He was a fucking curse, and she…

He scraped a hand over his face, pacing over to the surgery room. He didn’t dare march in, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“She’s going to be okay,” Ellie said from behind him gently. “She’s strong, and I’m sure shit like this happens all the time.” 

“I told her we’d be okay,” Joel rasped out, face crumpling finally. “I told her that it would turn out alright, that we could be… That we could make something good here.”

“And you will,” Ellie said. 

He shook his head. “I might as well have killed her my damn self.” He looked down at his bloodied hands as though they weren’t his. They shook more than they ever had before. 

“Stop it! She’s going to make it. She has to!” Ellie’s yell took him aback, piercing in such a quiet, echoey space. She jabbed a finger into Joel’s shoulder. “And you have to hold it together. I know it’s fucking hard, alright, but you don’t get to lose it now! You can’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in our lives, Joel! That’s not how it works!”

He swallowed down his own self-loathing, head bowed. “I can’t do it without her,” he whispered. 

The rawness in his voice must have been visceral, because Ellie paused, her eyes filling with tears. 

And then she hugged him, tight enough that he thought maybe she was trying to keep him in one piece. He let out a ragged breath and held her. And then he did what she asked. He tried to hold it together. 

***

You woke to whispers and gurgles and wondered for a moment if you were dreaming. Your lids were heavy, body distant, and you couldn’t quite remember where you were or who was supposed to be with you. 

Until you prised your eyes open and found IVs plugged into your veins. 

“There she is,” a voice said softly. 

You blinked, searching for the source, and found it in a bleary version of Joel. He sat in a chair beside your bed, a tiny baby in his arms. His smile was shaky, distorted, and you didn’t know why. Not until he leaned forward and brushed your hair from your face with his free arm.

“Thought you’d left me there for a second.” 

“Is she okay?” Your throat was hoarse. 

He nodded. “Right as rain. It’s you we were worried about.” 

You frowned, trying to remember. One minute, you were pushing as though your life depended on it, and then the next, you were just… gone. 

“You had a heavy bleed. Needed a transfusion,” Joel explained finally. “But they reckon you’re gonna be okay, thank god.” 

“But she’s okay?” You stared at the baby nestled against his chest, not quite sure how she was here. When had this being growing inside of you become a real, tangible thing? How much of her life had you already missed?

Joel sighed impatiently. “Yes, baby. She’s perfect. Takes after her mom in that department.”

He moved to perch beside you so that you could get a closer look. He was right, of course. She was a little smaller than most newborns, but she was perfect. Pink apple cheeks, wide eyes, tiny fingernails. Looking at her felt like everything had finally fallen into place. You tickled her chin and her lips twitched with something content. Something right.

“How’s it feel, being a daddy again?” you asked gently, looking up at him. 

“Right now, it feels like hell. You can’t go scaring me like that.” He wouldn’t look at you, frown set firmly on his daughter. “Thought I was gonna have a heart attack."

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been. After everything, you’d finally thought that danger, terror, was a thing of the past. You’d done a great job of ruining that, even if it wasn’t on purpose. Joel had lost too much before to deal with all this, and you had no idea how you’d cope in his shoes. 

He chuckled. “You’re sorry.” Shook his head. “I ain’t trying to make you apologise for almost dying, darlin’. You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“We said we could do this right,” you whispered. “I promised you it’d be different.” 

“Yeah, well… feels like things’ll never be different for me.” 

You snapped your head up. “What’s that mean?” 

“Nothin’.” He sighed, kissing your temple, and yet still, he wouldn’t meet your eye. “How about you get some rest? I’ll keep the little missus company.” 

“Joel.” You cupped his jaw, pleading now. Everything felt so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Even though the proof was right in front of you, it was hard to believe your baby was happy and healthy after all the trauma you’d faced. “We’re not gonna start her life this way. Tell me what you mean.”

He placed the baby down in the crib beside your bed before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I keep having to plan a life where I’m alone again, and honestly, I don’t know how I’d do it if I had to. Not this time.”

“But you’re not alone. I’m right here.”

“But you weren’t. For a minute there, I thought…” His voice grew thick, and he shook his head. “Sarah’s gone. Ellie hates me. Why the hell did I think it’d be third time lucky? She’s not even a day old, and she almost lost her mom! And there was nothing I could do. There’s never anything I can do.”

Your heart ached for him. One day, you prayed he wouldn’t hold the responsibility of every single person he loved on his shoulders. Maybe he was right. Maybe you’d been foolish to go into this thinking it could be better. The world would never be safe, not even here in Jackson, and the pain he must live with every day sure as hell wouldn’t ease now he had another daughter to raise. 

You felt hollow at the thought that maybe he’d leave. You wouldn’t blame him, not really. You were scared, too. But you’d only found the strength to do this because you were together, and you’d survived the odds so far. If that stopped feeling true… what then?

Devastation must have been written all over your face, because he pursed his lips. “Don’t listen to me, baby. I shouldn’t be sayin’ all this. You’re barely out of the woods.” 

“I don’t think we can keep doing this if you don’t let some of that guilt and blame go, Joel,” you admitted. “I think your daughter is gonna need a man who doesn’t hate himself for every single thing that’s wrong in the world. You’re right. There was nothing you could have done to stop this from happening. It was my body, and things like this happened even before the outbreak. I can’t imagine how scared you were, love, but fuck, you can’t keep making it your fault. It isn’t. It never was, especially not with Sarah. And this baby? She isn't Sarah." 

He winced at her name, as he often still did. Collapsing back in his chair, he took your hand. Slowly, his lower lip began to wobble as he finally met your gaze. “I love you too much to lose you. And her… How the hell am I gonna do this?” 

“I can’t answer that,” you said. “We knew it wouldn’t be easy.”

He snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.” Then, he bowed his head to press a kiss to the back of your hand. “Gonna try to be better. I promise. I'll hold it together."

“You don’t need to be better, and you don't need to hold it together. You’re already a good man, and talking about all this is important - for both of us. And for her.” You squeezed his fingers tightly. “I love you so much.” You teared up as you looked at the baby dozing in her crib. “And god, I love her. Can you believe we made her?” 

He hummed. “What the hell are we gonna call her?” 

“And where the hell are we gonna put her?” you added, worrying at your lip. “We never even found a crib.”

He shrugged, teasing. “I’m sure we’ll find a corner somewhere.” He leaned forward, tracing circles along your arm. “We’ll make do. Between the four of us, we’ll find a way. I’ll cut the damn trees down and build us a place from scratch myself if I have to.”

You smiled, peace finally flooding your exhausted body. You saw Ellie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, and knew Joel was right. Your family was complete now. It would be a little broken at times, as all things were, but you’d do everything in your power to keep it whole. 

Even if it meant reminding Joel every damn day that he had to be gentle with himself.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 15

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Okay. Back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You sit up as the faucet runs, the bathroom door slightly open. You look around, searching for your own shoes, not these annoying heels. As you get up, Bucky emerges, swiping his hands over his dark hair. You gulp and stop short. You gape at his shirtless torso. 

“You going somewhere, doll?” He asks. 

“Um, yeah, home,” you tear your eyes off of him. 

“Home? It’s late.” 

“I know but... my mom...” 

“I bet she’s asleep. She won’t know the difference, doll. I can’t let you go off into the night like that,” he insists as he comes closer. 

“But I...” you scour the room for your purse. You really don’t know how you’ll explain it all to your mom. You can’t go home in this dress and makeup. “I have to--” 

“Who say? You’re an adult, aren’t ya? You can stay.” He comes close and puts his hands on your shoulders, “you’re not gonna leave me all alone, are you?” 

“Bucky, I...” you chew your lip. “I had fun...” 

“But you can’t stay and snuggle. I get it. You’re a special girl, maybe I just don’t deserve ya,” he frowns. “And I’m not gonna make you stay but I can’t let you go off alone. So let me get dressed and I’ll drive you home.” 

You look at him. Your chest tweaks. He did all this for you. He’s already half undressed for the day and you can see the fatigue around his eyes. To be honest, you’re exhausted yourself. 

“No, I can’t-- I’ll stay,” you try to smile but you’re too nervous to do more than show your teeth. 

“You don’t gotta feel sorry for me,” he scoffs. 

“Sorry for you?” You pout, “no. How could I—what would I feel sorry for?” 

His throat bobs and he looks away, “you really are a sweet girl.” 

“Bucky,” you step closer, then stop yourself. You notice the muscles in his chest. He’s so strong and big. It’s distracting. “I’m just me. I... you—you own this whole place, why would I feel bad for you? It’s not... that. I’m just...” your lashes flick and your eyes drift down to his muscled stomach. You tear them away in shame, “nervous.” 

“Nervous,” he looks at you, almost bashfully as he keeps his chin tilted down. “About what?” 

“Well, er... everything. You. I... I’m just... it’s all so new, that’s all.” You twist your hand around your finger. “I didn’t mean to... hurt you.” 

He stares at you and takes a deep breath. He stands up straight and comes closer. “Aw, doll, no. Don’t give me that face. It makes me want you even more. To show you that you don’t need to be nervous. I wanna take care of ya. That’s the deal, isn’t it? I’m gonna give you everything you could ever dream of and all I’m asking is for you to keep being sweet to me.” 

He brings a hand up to cup your chin and you shiver. His thumb rubs along the line of your jaw as you peer up at him, “come on.” 

He gently urges you toward the bed. You put your hand on his wrist and stop him. You run your touch down his forearm. 

“I can’t sleep in this,” you look down at the dress. “Too tight.” 

“Ah, you want one of mine, doll?” He chuckles and reluctantly pulls his hand away. 

He turns and strides to the closet. To your surprise, there are clothes inside. Some of them you recognise from the racks of dresses you browsed earlier. He reaches inside and takes out a black button up. He comes back to you as he slips it off the hanger. 

He hands it over and you thank him. You feel the fabric, it’s soft. It’ll be nicer than the pinch of the seams. 

“Can I unzip ya?” He rasps. You sense the tension in his voice, as if he can barely get it out. 

“Oh, sure.” 

You turn your back to him, as much to hide your own burning blush as to hide from the heat roiling from him. You wince as his thumb brushes your skin and he slowly pulls down the tab of the zipper. You quiver out your breath and clutch the bodice of the dress as it slackens. You look at him from the corner of your eye. 

His fingertips trail up your spine and he steps closer. You brace yourself. He sniffs and pulls his hand away. 

“I’ll close my eyes,” he puts his hand over his face and turns on his heel. 

You don’t move right away. His presence is like a noose. You step away from him and put the shirt on the bed. You shimmy out of the dress and swipe it quickly off the floor. You put the shirt on and button it up. You unhook your bra and slide it off one arm at a time before pulling it through it free from beneath the fabric. 

You gather up the shirt and bra and clear your throat, “you can look now.” 

He accepts your invitation eagerly. He looks at you. Nowhere else but you. As you carry the clothing to rest on the dresser, he hums. Your legs tingle as they’re exposed to the room and him. They were before but now you feel even barer. 

As he approaches, you wrench back and face him. He stops to step out of his pants and you watch him in disbelief. He has only his dark briefs left. The twitch under the fabric gives you a start. You squeak and hurry for the bed. That’s not because of you... no, but... 

He follows. You climb up just ahead of him and his weight dips beside you. You push your legs under the covers as he reaches back to flip the light switch beside the headboard. The lamp goes out and he groans as he jostles closer. 

You lay down and just as quickly you’re locked in his embrace. His warm breath fans over your cheek as he nestles in close and brushes his nose along your cheek. His hand traces up and down your side and he clutches your hip. He pulls you flush to him. You can fill him—it—moving against your thigh. 

“Doll, ain’t this nice? Just us, just snuggling,” he purrs and tucks his hand under you, hooking a leg around yours. “I wish it could last forever.” You hum, unsure what to say. He kisses your cheek and hushes your silence, “sweet dreams. Don’t think I could sleep any better than next to you.” 

🃏

Sleep shrouds you in a shallow void. You can sense everything around you. Your mind won’t let go of your strange surroundings or the man next to you. Before you open your eyes, you try to convince yourself it was all a dream. 

You open your eyes to find the truth vivid before you. Bucky entwines himself in your as he snores into your hair. His arm is hooked around you and you’re not sure you’re okay about his hand being where it is. As you squirm, he kneads your ass. 

You reach back to stop him and he growls. The sound makes your chest twinge and you arch your back as his fingers curl deeper into your soft flesh. You cling to him as he holds you close. 

“Mmm,” he drones groggily, “you’re so warm, baby.” 

He rocks his pelvis and you feel just what you did the night before. He’s hard. The realization freezes you. You gulp and put your other hand over his thigh, squeezing him through the blankets. 

“Bucky,” you squeak, “Bucky?” 

“So good,” he continues to tilt his hips in a lewd rhythm. 

You turn to look at him, pulling back to see him. You’re caught in his hold. His eyes are closed as he lays beside you. Is he asleep? 

He continues to roll into you. You don’t know what to do. You’re embarrassed and helpless. He keeps on as you babble and blink up at the hotel ceiling. He grunts and jerks, shakes, then stops altogether. You shudder. 

“Bucky,” you say louder as you writhe in his arm. 

“Mm, ugh, huh,” he mutters as you tap his shoulder frantically. “Doll, what’s--” 

You look down as you feel something wet seep through the shirt. He releases you as he leans back and lifts the blanket. He peeks down and quickly sits up. Before you can say a word, he swings his legs over the edge and stands. He storms into the bathroom and the door snaps behind him. 

You gape after him. When at last you can move, you drag the blanket away from the mattress. You look at the wet spot on your shirt and push yourself up. You’re not sure but you are sure. It can’t be anything else. You’ve heard of it happening to men in their sleep but you always thought it only happened to teens. 

The door opens and you pop your head up. Bucky comes out with a towel around his waist and his hand on his forehead, “doll. I’m so sorry. I was dreaming and...of you, of course, but I got carried away. I didn’t mean to—I didn’t realise...” he swallows and closes his eyes. He tilts his head and drops his arm, “I’m so embarrassed.” 

“Uh, oh, I... I... well, I guess it happens, right?” You can’t look at him.  

“Well, not really. I gotta be honest, I mean, after this, there’s no point lying but... this doesn’t happen to me. Not often. Not since... well, it was a while ago,” he explains. “I guess you just do that to me.” 

“Erm, oh, I... I’m sorry?” You say. 

“Sorry, doll,” he chuckles and nears the bed. “Baby,” his voice grits in his throat, “do you know the last time a woman made me feel anything? At all? You got me feeling all sort of ways,” he exhales with a quake and reaches for you. 

You look at him as he latches onto your arm. He pulls you to the edge of the bed, “come here.” 

“Bucky--” 

He forces you to your feet and wraps you up in a hug, “I mean it, doll, I’m crazy for ya. And I’m tryna be patient but... you can see, I’m struggling. Huh? Can I have a little? Please.” 

You bat your lashes and dare to look up at him. His blue eyes are blazing and his cheeks are slightly tinged pink. Your stomach is flip flopping. 

“I...” you push your lips together and swallow, “what... what exactly... um, what did you want?” 

He trembles as he brings his hand up your arm and over your shoulder. He cradles your head and lets out another purr, “can I taste it? Please?” 

“Taste?” You echo thinly. 

“Baby, you don’t gotta do nothing. Just lay back, right? It’s like kissing. Mhmm. I’ll just be doing it...” his eyes drift lower and his nose furrows as if he’s snarling, “down there.” 

“I... I never...” 

“Promise, I’ll be nice. I just wanna try it. Alright? You say stop, I’ll stop, but baby,” his nails graze your scalp, “I’m getting hard again. It hurts.” 

You stare up at him, speechless. What do you say? What can you say? You’re in this hotel with him. The reason you’re there and could just as easily be the reason you’re not. And he’s you’re only way home. 

All of this, the room, the casino, last night, it’s all because of him. He gives and gives and you don’t see how you can keep taking. You squeeze your thighs together as they tingle. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“Okay?” He twitches. 

You nod as your eyes flit back and forth, “er, what... what do I do?” 

He exhales and puts his hands on your shoulders as he parts. He guides you back to the bed until your thighs meet the side, “you just sit, doll.” He shoves you down until you’re on the mattress, “I’ll do the rest.” 

You keep your eyes straight. Your body’s all locked up. You can’t move. He gets on his knees and moves toward you. He reaches under the shirt and grabs onto your panties. He tugs. 

“Help me out, baby,” he growls. 

You lift yourself slightly, just until he gets them past your bottom. You fall back down heavily. You’re buzzing in disbelief. He rolls your panties down your legs and off your ankles. He flings them away. 

He pulls your knees apart and you squeak as cool air grazes along your exposed cunt. He bends forward and kisses your thigh. You squeal. 

“Baby, I promise, I’ll be nice,” he speaks against your skin, his warm sweat smearing up your leg, “just be good. Be good for me, baby.” 

He shoves his head under the shirt and you exclaim as his tongue swipes up your cunt. You slap your hand against his head and thrash. He reaches back to hold your hand against his hair and buries his face into you. He hums and flicks his tongue. It sends a thrill through you. 

Your toes curl and your muscles strain. He keeps his tongue moving, and you push your head back as you lean your pelvis into him. Oh, wow.  

[i-hate-peas]

The Old Guard Fic Recs

So I've been a long time lurker within the fandom without ever getting particularly involved, but I wanted to show some appreciation for some of the super talented people who go here, because I have read a lot of incredible TOG fic.

Most (probably all) of these authors have loads of other amazing fics, but I've tried to just chose one from each, to keep the list a vaguely reasonable length. Although then I cheated and did some honourable mentions.

** just a note to say I started this list year (s) ago and forgot about it until literally today when I saw fic recs going round. Any of these fics I haven’t put a description for it’s because I didn’t do it at the time, and if I go back to reread them all this would never be posted, not through any lack of affection or enjoyment **

If any writers want tagging/ untagging etc please let me know! (i knew/ could find some blogs more easily than others lol)

Within Canon

Old Olives by aeli_kindara

Garden of Gethsemane mention = instant tears

Death in Her Hands by superblackmarket

Nile's growing relationship with Joe and Nicky. All of their fics are so beautifully written, but I especially love Nile's relationship with the boys and her facing her own immortality.

Honourable mention: Station to Station

Between the Hour and the Age by hauntedjaeger (@hauntedfalcon)

Andy! Nile!

Ouroboros by CypressSunn (@cypresssunns)

Set after the film, literally just read it.

compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience by Jack_R

A pair of early days Joe Nicky fics that reminds me of 'my wife is a bitch and i love her so much'

let's give them something to talk about by lacecat

When The Cherries White With Blossoms, Be Ready & Be Brave by chapstickaddict

Unearthed by merle_p

I think this is one of the most kudosed fics in the AO3 tag, but it deserves the hype!

Kidnapping for Dummies by Amiril

Similar to above, already very popular, but great and very funny!

The Last Man on Earth by Survivah (@optimismology)

I will admit I don't normally go for Booker/Nile, but this fic sold it to me. Looking at them and their developing relationship as the newer immortals.

Canon Divergent

Retrograde by Pinkninja

I mean this fic is the Big Bitch of the fandom for me, if you haven't already read this, where have you been? But also if you haven't already read this I am so jealous, read it and take your time with it and bawl your eyes out over it and appreciate the joy of reading it for the first time. The level of detail and planning in this fic is indescribable. It follows Nicky trapped in a Time Travellers Wife style life where he jumps back and forth throughout his own timeline, whilst Joe lives his life in chronological order. Exquisitely written.

If Never Again, If Every Day by gallifreyburning and takiki16 (@gallifreyburning, @takiki16)

Another absolute Titan of the genre. I know you’ve already been recommended this 500 times, what more can I say.

though I'm dying to (fall in love with you) by yusufsmoon (@babygirlyusuf)

Travellers from an Antique Land by kaydeefalls (@kaydeefalls)

Andy, not Quỳnh, trapped under the sea. I love all their fics.

AUs

Makes Me Want You More by Sixthlight (@sixth-light)

Perhaps not the typical favourite choice from Sixthlight, one of my absolute favourite TOG authors, but one that is funny and lovely and sweet that I keep coming back to. Shorter than many of theirs but perfectly formed.

pumpkin gnocci verse (series) by Liadan14 (@bewires)

I mean it's got estranged family, suspenseful chronological structure, cooking, spies, intimate and honest sex scenes, hilarious misunderstandings involving keeping halal, lovely found family moments, and the actual recipes used. What more do you want.

The Reality of Everything by Marbletopempire

One of the fics I desperately waited for each instalment for. Very funny, lots of sexual tension, plenty of Cate Blanchette spotting opportunities.

sine qua non by mellyflori (@werebearbearbar)

One of the first of their fics I read, with a very sweet build up of misunderstanding to friends to lovers, involving growing up, discovering sexuality, trying to be nice about your best friend's bad boyfriend, and a long suffering sofa.

The Brooklyn Verse (series) by GayLittleEarring, yusufsmoon, nicelytousled (@marwankenzarisgaylittleearring @babygirlyusuf @nicelytousled)

I saw the creation of this on Tumblr before it was a fic, and it lived up to every expectation. Very sweet and sincere, with lots of great discussions about art, whilst also very funny (Lamp the free loader, Joe sending thirst traps out of irritation) and hot. ItalianAmericanNickyfromBrooklyn and Joe my beloveds.

a good (eighth) impression by deaniker

I love a good hook-up to 'oh shit I have feelings' fic, and this is even more entertaining because Nicky is Lykon's ex, and Joe has very much seen him at his worst.

You do not have to be good by emjee (MerryHeart) (@emjee)

At one point a tumblr post about Joe the Professor and Nicky the Priest got very popular, and I'm not sure if this fic was inspired by that, but is one of the great fics with similar concepts. Such a lovely, gentle fic about love and also identity, featuring also Nile and a very sweet snail.

it's such an almighty sound (series) by raedear (@raedear)

A secret service AU that goes full enemies to lovers, with lots of tension, plotting, betrayal, frustration, and tenderness.

Honourable mention: take my hand (you got me rockin' and rollin')

fight 'til the day that i die 'verse by incurableromancer

Suspenseful, noir, super hero AU that has such a great writing style and is very atmospheric.

if you do take a thief by knoepfchen (@knoepfchen)

Cluedo style AU with lots of fun twists and slow building of backstories, with the whole gang.

Honourable mention: life is not the things that we do (it's who we're doing them with)

[hederasgarden]

🐸more Kraven?👀

All I have are extremely horny and unhinged thoughts, bestie. They are below the cut. NSFW. Untagged themes, read at your own risk.

I feel like Kraven would be very into marking you as his. This means everything from finger shaped bruises on your hips and wrists to biting. You think he’s just gonna give you a love bite but then the next thing you know he’s drawing blood. He may act sorry when he does it, but deep down he’s not.

Then there is another kind of marking he enjoys. The few times he doesn’t come inside you (because let’s be real, this man has a breeding/creampie kink), he loves rubbing his cum into your skin. Anywhere you’ll let him. He wants you to smell like him, to have his scent seep into your skin.

Bonus thot - Kraven loves to feel you squirm and fight to get out from under him while he’s deep inside you. He loves to remind you about his strength and how’s he’s gonna keep you exactly where he wants. Also, as much as he loves missionary because he loves to see your face when you come but he enjoys the prone bone too.

Send me a 🐸 with a character of your choosing, and I’ll give you a random headcanon for that character

[airbendertendou]

POV : thanks to mitsuya, draken finally gives you an insight to what he’s thinking live action actors used instead of the anime!

[PART ONE]

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♡——

liked by baji, mikey and 37 others!

name : too much chocolate? place your bets now!

view all 26 comments

draken : who’s hand is that? | name : just mitsuya !!

hinata : want. need. | takemichi : i have no money

chifuyu : have fun !!

mikey : im suddenly starving

——♡——

liked by mitsuya, chifuyu and 49 others!

name : my date for the day ♡

view all 21 comments

hinata : date? | name : pity date </3

mitsuya : we’re gonna have fun

mitsuya : don’t worry (:

kazutora : i could see it | hinata : YEAH | draken : see what?

draken : stay safe. make sure he drives slow.

——♡——

liked by toman.member, name and 63 others!

mikey : MY date for the day

view all 49 comments

name : why does he look so upset ): | mikey : hmmmMMMMM

kazutora : in his jealous era | baji : wat duz this meen

toman.member : Have a good time commander!

draken : didn’t let you post this | mikey : u let name post abt u !! ]:<

——♡——

liked by kazutora, takemichi and 47 others!

draken : name for you

view all 39 comments

hinata : 👀 | takemichi : no ideas pls

mitsuya : oh?

baji : IM RELLIGN | name : baji he literally tagged me .

chifuyu : me when. me and who.

——♡——

liked by mikey, chifuyu and 48 others!

mitsuya : my work here is done

view all 26 comments

name : TANKH YUO

name : ILL GIEV YOU A KISI | draken : you will not.

kazutora : cute (:

hinata : im going to scream ur both so cute | takemichi : we're cuter !!

——♡—— a much asked for part two !! mitsuya is a real one <3 if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♡

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @straysugzhpe ♥︎ @star2fishmeg ♥︎

also tagging : @hellkaiserinphoenix @obaebarbs @animesllut666

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[citruswriter]

Relinquish

An alternative ending to Escape

Listen with me! ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

A/N: Pls, pls, PLSSSSSS go read the original written by @fried-milkfish! It's sooooooo good! The writing is done so beautifully and definitely deserves much more love. Unfortunately for the world, I'm a sucker for Darling's finally giving in. So I decided to make an alternative ending. 😉 (Pls lemme know if you want me to untag you milkfish, or private this if ur uncomfortable with me writing an alternative ending).

Warnings: Yandere Donnie, blood, smidge of copy and paste (but it's very little), Donnie is an egotistical bastard whom I love, fluff closer to the end.

How stupid of you to think you could escape. Of course he found you. Of course he had multiple trackers in you. Of course. He was always three steps ahead of you.

Donnie crouched down to your level, reaching a hand forward. You flinched away from him, screwing your eyes shut as your heart rate picked up from fear, awaiting whatever pain he was about to deliver. But you were surprised when he gently cradled your face instead.

"I wish you would just give up and give in to me..." he muttered as a thumb gently brushed against your cheek. You slowly cracked your eyes open. His touch felt warm... welcoming... Memories of times before flashed through your mind. Hanging out in the lab with him as he chided you for touching things you weren't supposed to. Late nights where the two of you would softly laugh at shared jokes. His tender touch as he first became comfortable with hugging you or rubbing your shoulders.

Donnie had almost expected you to snap and fight against him like you had all those countless times before, but as he watched your gaze soften, he realized that your resolve was weakening. He just needed to...

"(Y/N)?" His voice came as he moved his hand to tilt your chin up and force eye contact. You were still tense, still in fight or flight mode. He watched as confusion and conflict battled within your gaze. "Are you ok?"

His question came as a shock to you. You pressed your lips into a line. When was the last time you had let yourself be held? Be comforted? When was the last time you had let somebody wipe your tears? Better yet, when was the last time you had let yourself be vulnerable? A small voice in the back of your head screamed at you, disgusted at your weakening resolve. Were you really going to give up now? How could you?

But you were tired. Just so fucking tired. You were just exhausted on all levels. Mentally, emotionally, physically. He was being so gentle with you. Maybe if you behaved, he'd stay gentle with you.

You choked on a sob as tears spilled out of your eyes. You were just so tired. Shaking, you reached your arms out, clutching onto him and sobbing into him. It hurt, everything hurt. Your body, your heart, your soul. You couldn't see the smirk plastered on Donnie's face as he gently shushed you, one hand on the back of your head and the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you just cried everything out.

"I'm so tired, Donnie". You sobbed out, nuzzling into his neck. "Just so fucking exhausted." Donnie pulled back from your still shaking form. He cradled your face and you closed your eyes, welcoming the warmth his hands brought.

"Then let's go back home, yeah? I'll patch you up and then you can rest for however long you want. Sound good?" He cooed and you looked up at him with watery eyes, cheeks stained with your tears. You nodded and just went "mhm" unable to say much else.

Donnie easily picked you up and you nuzzled into his plastron, closing your eyes from exhaustion but not able to fall asleep due to the pain in your arm and leg. You couldn't see Donnie's darkened expression of victory as he stared down at your beautiful figure.

You barely moved as he cleaned and patched you up. Didn't struggle against his hold as he laid you down into bed and tucked you in. Didn't jerk back in disgust and anger as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

You gently gazed up at him with soft eyes. He could see your guilt and self disgust swirling through your eyes. But you didn't recoil when he crouched down to your level once more, fingers rubbing the base of your neck. "You made the right decision". Was all he said before chancing a kiss on your plush lips.

You didn't push him away but you didn't fully reciprocate either. That was ok. He knew you needed to take baby steps. As you drifted off to sleep, he watched over you with an egotistical grin for a few moments before returning to his desk.

You were finally his.

Anyways uh. Hope ya'll like this. Hope milkfish likes it. Ya'll better read the original or I'm coming for you in yo sleep. Give milkfish some freakin love. And uh, see ya next time. :p

[whatdoeseverybodywant]

All I Want Is You (Jey Uso x Ex-Girlfriend!)

Part 1

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤ 

Janelle is played by Justine Skye

Taglist: @christinabae @southerngirl41 @reci24 @jeyusos-girl @jeyusosgirl @melaninsugababy @baconeggndcheez @bemybabiibish

I USED THE SAME TAGS FROM 'YOU'RE THE ONLY GIRL FOR ME' LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA BE UNTAGGED FROM THIS.

PART 2

Friday August 4th 

Josh walked into the arena holding hands with his 4 year old son. He had a camera crew following him for some type of vlog that was being shown on the WWE’s Youtube channel. The camera crew was filming him walking past a trailer that had Joe’s face on it. He said some snarky remark about looking better than Joe when his son tugged on his hand. 

“Dad, look.” His son said. Josh looked to where his son was pointing and felt his heart skip a beat. He didn’t know she was going to be there. He knew he would probably see her at SummerSlam since it was an event for both shows but he wasn’t mentally prepared to see her tonight.  “Can I go say Hi?” His son asked using his best puppy dog eyes.  Josh nodded and let go of his hand. 

Janelle was talking to Michael Cole when she felt someone wrapping their tiny arms around her legs. 

“Hi J!” He smiled up at her, his two front teeth missing. She smiled and bent down to pick him up.

“Hey bud. How you been?” She asked, melting a little when he wrapped his arms around her neck. 

“Good. I missed you.” He said still not letting go of her neck. 

“I missed you too bud.” Josh felt his palms sweat when he got closer to Janelle, he prayed that he didn’t say anything stupid with the cameras on him. She arched her eyebrow at him when she noticed the camera crew but didn’t say anything about it.. 

“Come on. Let's go get some food.” He said to his son trying to pry him off of Janelle. With them and the camera crew laughing when his son just wrapped his arms and legs around Janelle tighter. 

“No dad, I wanna stay with Nelle.” His son said, turning around and pouting at his dad. 

“You guys know each other?” The cameraman asked, causing Josh to stutter before Janelle rolled her eyes and answered for him. 

“We used to date.” She said 

“Used too?” The cameraman laughed when Josh and Janelle turned their faces up at him. “My bad just asking.” 

“Yeah used too, Mr. Nosey.” She said, rolling her eyes. Her expression softened when she brought her attention back to Josh’s son. “You don’t wanna go eat with daddy?” She asked, making Josh suck in a breath that hopefully the camera’s didn’t pick up. He loved when she called him that. When Xavier shook his head no Janelle turned her attention to Josh who was already looking at her. “He can stay with me until he’s ready to go with you.” 

Josh nodded his head. “My cousin was going to sit at Ringside with him during the show, I'll let you know when she gets here.” Janelle nodded and walked off with Xavier leaving Josh with the camera crew. “Yall not gonna cut that out huh?” He asked, seeing the smirk on the cameraman's face.

“Why do you have my nephew?” Joe Anoa’i asked as he walked down the hallway seeing Janelle with Xavier. 

“Because he likes me better than his dad.” Letting out a laugh when Xavier nodded his head in agreement. Joe took Xavier from Janelle. 

“You actually talked to Josh?” He asked his eyes widening when she nodded her head. “It wasn’t awkward?” 

“No gossip girl. I think we’re both over the break up.” Arching an eyebrow when Joe just gave her a ‘yeah okay’ look. “What's with the look?” She asked, taking Xavier back when he reached for her. 

“I mean,” He paused and shrugged. “Y’alls breakup tore up a friend group.” Holding his hands up in defense when Janelle narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m just saying we all used to hang out then yall broke up and I hardly see you or Tati anymore.” Janelle rolled her eyes. 

“Well, Tatianna is pregnant, so she’s not on the road anymore and I’m on Raw now.” 

“Yeah well you would still be on Smackdown if you didn’t ask to get traded.”  Janelle rolled her eyes. 

“I didn’t ask to be traded” 

“That’s not what I heard.” Janelle narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t understand where people were getting the rumor of her asking to be drafted over to RAW was coming from, but it was pissing her off. 

“I’m going to walk away now.” She said, turning her back to him and walking away, not giving him a chance to respond. 

“Damn I aint know Janelle was back on Smackdown.” Joe said as he sat down next to Josh in catering. Josh looked over at him. 

“Tell me about it, X traded on me as soon as he saw her.” He said picking up his fork to continue eating. 

“So how did it feel to see her again?” Joe asked. 

“Damn Uce, what you a reporter now?” Joe laughed. 

“Nah, I'm just wondering, I know things ended badly between y’all.” Josh nodded his head and swallowed his food before answering. 

“Yeah, but I think we’re both over it. It was months ago.” Josh looked at his phone when it beeped with a notification. It was Janelle telling him that Xavier had fallen asleep and she needed somewhen quiet to put him. He told her to meet him at catering so he could take Xavier back to his dressing room. 

“I’ll see you later Uce.” Josh said, standing up, throwing his trash away and walking out of catering to wait for Janelle. 

“Hey.” Josh turned and smiled at her, taking Xavier’s sleeping body from her. 

“Thank you,” He said to her. “For taking Xavier when he wanted to go with you. You didn’t have to take him.” He finished when she arched her eyebrow at him. 

“It was no problem.” She said rocking on her heels, when they lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. “I’m gonna..” She started pointing behind her. 

“He nodded his head. “It was nice to see you Janelle.” 

“You too Josh, good luck tonight and tomorrow.” She said before turning around and walking away. 

Janelle didn’t see Xavier or Josh for the rest of the show. After meeting with Paul and confirming that she was definitely moving back to the blue brand. She headed to the parking lot stopping when she heard Xavier throwing a tantrum.  

“No!.” The 4-year old yelled out. “I wanna go see Nelle.” Josh looked around desperately. 

“ I don’t think she’s here anymore X. Come on we can get McDonald’s” Xavier wasn’t trying to hear that though. He started crying and kicking his legs harder. Janelle walked over to them. 

“Xavier. What’s wrong?” Xavier broke free from Josh’s grip and ran over to Janelle. 

“I wanna stay with you.” He cried into her leg. Janelle felt her heart break, she didn’t know that her and Josh’s breakup had this type of effect on Xavier. Josh crouched down so he was eye level with Xavier. 

“Xav, come on we talked about this daddy and Nelle don’t share a room anymore.” Him saying that only caused Xavier to cry harder. He looked up her. 

“Help me.” He mouthed to her. She cleared her throat and pried Xavier off of her legs and picked him up. 

“Okay. How about your daddy go and get the food and me and you can go back to the hotel and watch movies. I’ll stay until you go to sleep.”

“Promise.” He asked, pouting at her. She nodded. 

“I promise..” She looked back at Josh. “You wanna take my rental and I’ll take yours?” He nodded and gave her the keys and his keycard. 

“Room 3310, Jon is there.” Janelle groaned and nodded her head putting Xavier into the car seat. “Whatchu want to eat?” He asked her, holding the driver's door open for her.  She shrugged. 

“You know what I like.” She said before shutting the door and starting the car.” She looked in the rear view mirror at Xavier who was smiling at her and she could help but smile back.  Starting the car with a sigh, she started driving to the hotel

Xavier talked her head off the whole journey up to the hotel room. Janelle didn’t mind though. She missed being around him. They finally made it to the room, opening the door Janelle let out a surprised shriek when she saw Jon standing in his underwear. 

“Ayo, whatchu doin?!” He yelled as he ran into his room. She laughed and placed Xavier on the couch, crouching down to take off his shoes. 

“Do your boxers have frogs on them?” She said laughing when he came out of the room and threw a pillow at her. 

“Shut up, my mom gave them to me.” That caused Janelle to laugh even harder. “Why are you here?” He said walking over to his nephew and giving him a pound. 

“Me and Xavi having a movie night.” She said untying the laces on her heels and slipping them off her feet. Jon arched an eyebrow and her. 

“Just you and X?” He looked over to his nephew who was cuddled up against Janelle. Normally he would be ripping and running around the whole hotel room, tearing shit up. But now he looked so content with just being close to Janelle. 

“No Josh too.”  He looked over at her. “What? We broke up months ago. I’m over it, I'm pretty sure he’s over it and I’m doing it for Xavier. He had a whole tantrum at the arena.” 

“You might be over it, but I know my brother, he aint over it.” Janelle ignored his statement and turned her attention to the cartoon that Xavier was watching. 

Josh didn’t immediately pull off from the arena. He sat in the car for a bit. “What the fuck.” He muttered, scrubbing his hand over his face. He 100% wasn’t over their break up. He wasn’t even sure why they broke up. He came home one day to all her stuff packed and placed by the front door, the house keys and car keys on the kitchen counter.  He couldn’t even think of reasons why they broke up, they were happy or at least he thought they were happy. 

Josh pulled off, driving to the nearest McDonalds, his thoughts shifting to the ring box in his closet. 

The sound of someone knocking on the door paused Janelle, Jon and Xavier’s game of hide-and-seek.

“That must be Josh. I have his keycard.” She said walking over and opening the door. She took the drink out of his hand and set them down at the kitchen table. Jon walked over to the bags looking in them. Scoffing when he only sees two meals and a happy meal. 

“Man, you knew I was here.” He grumbled going over to the hotel’s restaurant menu and looking at it. “I'm hungry too.” Josh ignored him though. His eyes on Janelle as he watched her help Xavier sit at the table. 

“What?” She asked when she turned around and noticed him still standing there, staring at her. He shook his head and mumbled ‘nothing’ before grabbing his food out of the bag and going to sit on the couch with his brother.  He looked over at Janelle when she cleared her throat. She nodded her head over to the empty chair next to Xavier.

“What are you doing?” She asked. He sighed and got up from the couch and made his way over to the table. Giving her a look when she started laughing.  

Jon watched them with a small smile on his face, hoping that they could talk out their problems and get back together. They were good for each other. He got up and walked into his room, giving them privacy. 

After they ate, they went into Josh and Xaviers shared room. Janelle stood awkwardly by the door as Josh helped Xavier into his pajamas. 

Josh went into the bathroom to change,  leaving Janelle and Xavier. 

“Can I sit in the middle of you and daddy?” He asked, already climbing into the bed. 

“Of course,” she smiled at him, walking towards the bed, wishing she had a change of clothes.  She climbed into the bed next to him, tucking her legs so that her underwear wasn’t showing. 

“So what are we watching?” Josh asked as he came back into the room, dressed in some basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Janelle looked down and Xavier, who was looking at her already. 

“You want me to pick?” He nodded his head and snuggled closer to her. 

“Wow this is a lot of pressure.” She said, tickling his sides making him giggle. “Lets watch SpiderMan” Josh nodded and grabbed the remote to turn the movie on. 

15 minutes into the movie Xavier was rocked. Janelle looked down when he started to snore and laughed. 

“Guess he was sleepy.” She said, sitting up slightly so she wouldn’t wake him up. With Josh’s help she maneuvered him so he was laying on a pillow and not on her. “Well, goodnight.” She said, cracking the door so that the light from the living room wouldn’t wake Xavier. 

Josh looked over at Xavier to make sure he was secured and followed Janelle out of the room. 

“Wait.” He called out after her. She turned around, leaning against the front door. “Thank you, for coming to be with Xavier, I don’t know how I would’ve calmed him down.” She nodded her head. 

“It was no problem, you know I love Xavier.” That caused Josh to scoff. “What was that for?” She said, crossing her arms. 

“How you love him, but you abandoned us.” She gasped. 

“I didn’t abandon him or you Joshua. We broke up.” He shook his head. 

“No, you broke up with me, leaving me and my son heartbroken, that little boy asked about you for months. And what was I supposed to say? Janelle left you just like your mom?!” 

“That was uncalled for Josh!” She said, raising her voice slightly.  He shrugged. 

“Well it's true and I'm not apologizing for it.” 

“Joshua, we broke up, I moved out. Was I supposed to still come around?” She asked, frowning. She should’ve known this conversation was going to happen. 

“Why did we break up? Why did you move out? Im still fuckin’ confused.” She groaned and rolled her eyes. 

“Josh, come on. We argued everyday, we saw each other at work and at home. There was no escape.” He furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“What argument? We had slight disagreements.” She scoffed at that. 

“Josh we yelled from the time we woke up til the time we fell asleep.”  

“So what, we were going thru a rough patch, but that doesn’t mean you leave me and my son.” 

She groaned and threw her head back against the door, “I love Xavier, but I wasn’t ready to be a mom. I felt overwhelmed. There I was playing house with you-” He cut her off. 

“Playing house? Seriously?”  

“I wasn’t ready for that lifestyle! And then you kept talking about how good of a mom I was to X and how you couldn’t wait until we had kids of our own.” She was growing frustrated with him. Why couldn't he see where she was coming from. She was young and wanted to have fun. Did he understand the sacrifices she made for him and his son? 

“That's how people who love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together talk, Janelle!” 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore Josh. I just wanna go to sleep.” She said as she opened the door. 

“Go ahead, run away like you always do.”  She sighed and let the door close behind her, she wasn’t lying when she said she loved Xavier, she really did. And she wasn’t lying when she said that she wasn’t ready to be a mom. 

When she started dating Josh, she knew he had a son but she didn’t know he was a full time dad. Xavier would stay with Josh’s mom when he was on the road but all that changed when Xavier met Janelle, he didn’t want to leave her side. So Xavier started coming on the road with them and wherever Janelle went so did he. He would sit on the equipment boxes behind the camera, while she did her interviews. It got to the point where she was missing out on social events to stay with Josh and Xavier. 

She wiped tears from her eyes as she got on the elevator and pressed the button to her floor. 

Hopefully this will only be 2 parts. Enjoyy ❤️

[brucewaynehater101]

I miss the feeling I had when I first joined this fandom, I knew virtually nothing so everything was correct and I loved everything, even if that stuff just isn’t true, i was like

Bruce is a bit emotionally constipated but loves his kids? Hell yeah sounds legit

dick is a silly happy flippy man who is a bit promiscuous? Love that for him

Jason is a mega feminist literature nerd who is also buff and takes care of the street kids? Perfect man honest

Tim is a nerd who never sleeps and is queer and has never known the touch of a man nor woman? Sweet

Steph is waffle obsessed goofball? Well I prefer pancakes but right on

Cass is a mute badass who loves her fam? I love her

Duke is a normal dude? Well someone has to be and he seems neat

Alfred can do no wrong? Aight, I love old perfect tea men

Damian is a little prick? So are all middle schoolers give him time

But then I had to go learn about the characters and now I have complex opinions about them, and can see the inherent racism and sexism in how they are portrayed

You know before I joined the bat fandom I did not use the exclude tag in ao3? Like tmnt and dp have some bad stuff but usually I could just scroll past.

but now I am having to avoid fics where whole ass adults are bullying and/or oversexulizing a child

Im constantly on the look out for untagged batcwst

I struggle to find fics that don’t describe dicks ass

I have been in this fandom for probably about two years now and y’all I swear

sorry for ranting, and don’t worry I love all your stuff and I know the just back click don’t leave mean comments rule

I’m just tried bc most of the stuff I thought was true turned out to be false

Mm. I do find it a little exhausting trying to navigate the lines of what's canon, what shouldn't be canon (but is due to racism/sexism/homophobia/etc.), and just having fun.

I'm also trying to cultivate the mindset of what I've seen on Tumblr about not policing other people's ships/ideas. I am highly uncomfortable with some (particularly underaged people and adults dating), but I'm also not leaving hate comments. Like you said, the backspace exists for a reason.

Idk. There's a toooon of takes/ideas about the batfam that are inherently false, but as long as they aren't racist/sexist/etc takes, I don't see the harm in them. So what if someone wants a coffee obsessed Tim? So what if Jason's kill code is very strict? As long as they don't claim it's canon, let them be

But yeah. I have a mile long exclude list for fics on AO3. I used to use it only for triggers (I can not do stockhold syndrome, my lords), but now it's got other weird ass shit I've stumbled upon (I saw a fic where the batkids were spanked as punishment??? Like I said, not gonna leave hate comments or single anyone out. Just not my cup of tea).

I also am usually not a fan of romance/sex. It's why the batfam intrigued me so much (found families usually don't have that in it). I like exploring dynamics outside of romance and thus love the batfam. They've got so much going on that romance/sex is not needed. They are such a mess without that dynamic being added (talking about the Bats getting with a third party, but, again, trying not to yuck anyone's yum).

However, I agree. There's a ton of misinformation within fandom. I like how complex canon gets with the characters, but there's also widely different takes with them (mostly talking about Bruce here. He can either be trying or just a straight up horrible dad).

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Fool's Errand Pt 11

Part (11) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

It is 1am. I stayed up waaayyy to late to finish this, but if I didn't get it out now, it would have to wait until Monday, and I really didn't want you make ya'll wait.

This one's a little rough, loves; so grab an emotional support cock(tail).

Btw - little aside! For anyone who no long wants to be tagged, feel free to shoot me a dm or you can submit another taglist just saying to be untagged. For those that want to be tagged, please remember to give me your tumblr name. I've received a few email addresses and several names that don't seemed to link up to anyone. Sorry, but there's not much I can do with that ❤️

Warnings: heavy into medical procedures; a lot of grief, guilt, thoughts of self-doubt; near-death experience; blood; gore; needles; cpr; body horror; eye injuries; profanity. I think that's is, but, As always, please let me know if I've missed tagging something!

WC: 3,867

I used to love forests. Agamar boasted a rich abundance of biomes, but the farmlands where I was raised were far from anything so wild; thus, the thought of finding myself lost in unending stretches of trees so tall and numerous as to grant an artificial night to those trapped within their shadow was mesmerizing in a way that forgave any thought toward what danger those shadows might conceal. I knew better now.

I’d lost Emmy while flying over a forest; the scent of campfire smoke dancing just beneath that suffocating tang of fuel. I’d nearly lost Tech to the dangerous fungus thriving in the rokna trees of Endor. And then my brother… No. Forests no longer held that tantalizing mystique. They were beautiful. And they were deadly. And, as I stood between two of the countless, towering trees mere meters from the still forms atop the ramp of the Marauder, I realized how much I’d come to hate them.

My entire body was shaking with adrenaline and fear and rage, wide eyes darting from the dark armor to the crying girl, pistol still clenched in her trembling hands.

“Sweetie… I need you to put down the gun. Okay?” I murmured, the thin vail of calm forcing my words into something far removed from the desperation simmering beneath them. Her gaze darted to the weapon held before her as though just as terrified to find herself still holding it as she was at the thought of letting it go.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Just… just set it down.” I pressed, some ancient, feral instinct forbidding me from shouting at her hesitation. One hand slowly pulled away from the grip, but it was the other one that still had a finger pressed far too snugly against the trigger, and I wondered if she’d ever held a gun before.

“That’s good… You’re doing great… Look at me, honey.” I whispered, surprised at how quickly her attention snapped back to me. “It’s okay. Just put it down.” Her fingers began to loosen. The instant the weapon that looked far too large in her hands began to fall, I darted forward. I wanted to scream at her; to berate her for what damage she might have caused, for the delay her fear had forced between my men and the care they desperately needed, but I didn’t. I raced forward and instantly locked her to my chest, quiet shhh’s leaving on barely controlled breaths as I carried her rapidly into the ship, stopping only when the outside world was hidden by those worn, metal walls and quickly settled her atop Hunter’s bunk.

“Alright, baby; I want you to stay right here for me, okay?” It wasn’t quite an order, but it was far from a request, hands shaking as I swept the hair from her face to ensure she was looking at me. Snot covered her upper lip as tears flooded her cheeks, her entire body convulsing with sobs, but the small nod she managed in response was enough for me to quickly press my lips to her forehead before turning on my heel and sprinting back outside.

It was Hunter’s pistol. I kicked the damn thing inside if only to get it out of my way before dropping to my knees beside them, searching for signs of blasterfire or crushed plastoid or breath, and finding neither.

No. That wasn’t right. Crosshair’s torso was still shifting beneath short, jilted gasps. But Hunter…

“Hunter? Hunter, can you hear me?!” I didn’t wait for a reply I knew wasn’t coming as I struggled to untangle them, belatedly realizing he’d collapsed while carrying his brother up the ramp.

“Cross? Hey-hey, you with me?” I asked, begged as I eased him onto his back, but his body merely flinched with shallow breaths, faint grunts far too akin to whimpers catching on trembling lips. But he was breathing. He was hurt, but he was alive. My heart jolted as I quickly threw myself at Hunter, fingers slipping beneath the sharp notch of his jaw as my other hand quickly yanked at his helmet.

Numb. There’s a quiet that comes in moments like this, born of hard-learned necessity as even a taste of the emotions hiding just beyond the distant storm would bring with them doubt. Hesitation. And when even a second of such hesitation could be the difference between life and death, if takes very few mistakes to learn how to hide oneself in that quiet, to let hands move and thoughts rage with a careful detachment.

My body no longer shook as I wrestled the heavy chest plate from his limp form. I didn’t look at the deathly pale skin that gleamed beside the faded half-skull tattoo, nor at half-lidded eyes that were so violently wrong without laugh lines dancing at the corners or that brooding intensity as his mind raced to find solutions to impossible problems. In that moment, he was a number. He was a list of vitals and pre-existing conditions and a rapidly evolving treatment plan. He was patient 1, triaged and assisted and listed by priority, and if I held to that as I should have, I would have let him die, but I watched with a pointed lack of emotion as I finally freed him of that damned armor, his body falling back to the ramp with a thud I couldn’t bring myself to worry over in the wake of how wrong that stillness was.

It was a thoughtless action, the way my fingers twined together as my hands stacked atop each other above his chest. I needed to move them – both of them – out of the risk of enemy fire. Hell, I needed to move for that same reason; needed to get Hunter on level ground to maximize the efficiency of my compressions; needed to check for lung capacity and inevitably insert another chest tube; needed to see just how bad the chemical burns still eating into Crosshair’s eyes were and try to figure out some way to help him. I could still hear the girl crying and wasn’t surprised to see her standing at the very corner of the hallway, peaking out just enough to watch us, and I’d never felt so impossibly, irrevocably alone.

Curses spitting from my lips, I abandoned the half-completed count of compressions and threw myself to my feet. Couldn’t get deep enough… The tantalizing wealth of muscle I’d so shamelessly admired every time he’d see himself into my bed beneath the guise a massage that we both knew had nothing to do with pulled muscles or stiff joints, that breathtaking display of power that saw him so effortlessly through the endless missions and struggles of this war left his chest too stiff to readily yield beneath the too weak thrusts of my palms.

If I could get him inside – get him on a flat surface, then I could push harder, I could force his damn heart to beat and chase all threat of that encroaching chill from skin I so clearly remembered feeling like fire against mine.

“Honey, there’s a button on that interface, there. Can you press it – close the ramp?” I asked breathlessly as I began dragging Crosshair inside as well. A slightly louder groan caught in his throat making my heart drop. I barely noticed the girl dart forward, tiny hand nearly slamming onto the controls as movement returned to those long limbs.

“Shh, Cross, I’m right here, okay? I’m going to take care of you, but I have to help Hunter first.” If he heard me, if he heard the crippling apology that threatened to rend my breath into hiccuped gasps and rob me of that blessed detachment, he was too lost in a growing agony to offer any form of a response. My hand shifted beneath the desperate need to reach for him, to somehow ensure he knew I was there, but that would waste precious seconds I didn’t have, and I quickly spun back to Hunter, jaw tensing anew at the utter absence of life before me.

Airway. Breathing. Circulation. It was rote. Mindless. But something in me still died at how cold his lips felt against mine. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. And I nearly broke at how much effort it took to push even a whisper of breath into his lungs. Crosshair was starting to move, clawed hands reaching toward the black visor I only just realized was shattered, deep crackers spider-webbed across the dark crescent. If I looked, I could just make out slivers of skin between some of the larger cracks, but I couldn’t see enough to even guess toward the damage hidden within as I wrenched the medpack from my shoulders.

Hunter’s body rocked listlessly beneath the force it took to shove the chest tube between his lower ribs, expression void of the pain I’d never been so eager to see on his handsome face. What poured from the fresh wound was dark and thick and filled the small room with the heavy scent of copper and sick, and I refused to even look at it as I dragged the sheers down the front of his shirt, half ripping the fabric away in my haste.

I didn’t hesitate before arching my body over him and slamming my elbow into his chest, ignoring how the sound of ribs cracking beneath the strike was enough to make even Cross flinch, ruined helm shifting uselessly toward me for just a moment before that pain overruled his attention once more. My knee pads scrapped loudly against the metal grate as I pushed myself up enough to straddle Hunter’s waist, cupped hands returning to their position over his sternum.

“Crosshair… Cross, if you can hear me, you need to try to get that helmet off.” I panted, voice undulating with the rhythm of my entire body beating quickly against his brother’s chest. His head shifted again, the movement jerky and only barely noticeable, and I couldn’t imagine how the wet crunch, crunch, crunch that so perfectly marked the passage of time must have sounded in the dark, eyes surely blinded by whatever cruel thing had been used to cripple him.

“I know; I know, baby – I’ll help you as quickly as I can, but I need you to help, too.” I pressed on huffed, rapid breaths, relieved when his shaking fingers began groping at the rounded ridge following his jawline, but I couldn’t ignore how quickly that trembling was getting worse, the sound of air hissing through clenched teeth breaking between barely restrained groans that so wanted to be screams, and I realized that Hunter must have given him something stronger – something that managed to knock him out before I reached them, and it was rapidly fading.

But I couldn’t do anything for him. Not yet. Not until I finally managed to force some bit of life back into the man below me. Kriff, was I just wasting time? The longer I worked on Hunter, the more potential damage Crosshair suffered… I could only guess toward how much time had passed since his heart… how long he’d been down before I reached them… and the longer he’d been like this the greater the risk of…

No. No, no; I couldn’t think like that. Scowling at the way my hand was just beginning to shake again, I reached out to check for a pulse, straining to mediate my own breaths enough for me to actually feel for his heartbeat over the frantic racing of my own. Nothing… I quickly leaned down to push two more breaths into his lungs, wincing at the way his nose cracked slightly between my fingers as I pinched his nostrils shut.

“He’s… i-is he…” I could barely make out words through how shaky his breath was, and I instantly found myself wishing I hadn’t heard him at all.

“I’m doing everything I can for him, Crosshair; just focus on getting that helmet off, and I’ll try to get you more meds soon.” There was that careful detachment again, automatic response unhindered by the grief and panic I tried so hard to ignore.

“To-… told ‘im t… l-l’ve m…” I couldn’t think about the sob that robbed the strength from his voice, nor the hiccuped gasp that followed as his hands clawed over his ruined visor, my teeth grinding into the inside of my cheek to keep my own breath from breaking.

Still no pulse. The precious few seconds it took to dig into my bag once more made my skin crawl, some wretched whisper in the back of my head telling me everything that could go wrong, everything that I’d done wrong; that I wasn’t fast enough, strong enough; that I was killing him – that I was killing both of them.

Guilt made my stomach churn as a small drop of crimson marked where I’d nicked him with the razor as I rushed to clear enough hair for the electrodes. It was stupid. Such a tiny wound… and yet my eyes kept trying to return to it, as though I hadn’t just shoved a tube through his side, as though I hadn’t just broken several ribs to allow adequate compressions, as though the man beneath me wasn’t, by all medical standards, already dead.

The small device let out a warning trill, and I quickly jumped clear of him, waiting anxiously for the timer to finish. Hunter’s body seized beneath the violent surge of electricity, torso snapping up, spine locking in a tight arch. And then he crashed back to the metal grating, rocking listlessly from the momentum.

I didn’t wait for the AED to finish reassessing, fingers reaching for his throat the instant his back hit the floor. Whatever momentary lucidity had granted Crosshair the clarity of mind to mumble those heartbreaking words was gone, crushed beneath an agony no longer muted by whatever drugs Hunter had given him. His legs dragged uselessly against the metal beneath him, deep, keening groans occasionally breaking into a barked scream as he writhed in pain. And, still, there was no sign of life beneath my fingertips.

One more… I’d grant myself only one more moment of denial, one final attempt to bring him back…

“Dammit; come on, Hunter!” I didn’t mean to let the words escape me as I pounded against his chest. “Don’t you do this – don’t you kriffing dare do this!” I remembered the first time I’d performed CPR on a real person. “We need you, dammit! Come on!” The patient had already been pronounced. “Come back! Please, please, come back!” But residents were encouraged to “practice.” Knowing they were already dead, however, did nothing to relieve me of the sharp rush of adrenaline, the desperate urgency to somehow do better – be better… to save them… That knowledge did nothing to rid me of the consuming guilt of failure when I finally walked away.

I couldn’t silence the sob as I pressed my lips against his one last time, pushing the air from my own lungs into him with every unspoken plea and promise and curse forever forced into a silence I feared I’d regret until my heart stopped as well.

Something beeped. Doubt robbed me of recognition. Fear forbade me from even looking. Barely ten percent of patients come back from something like this. Some horrible, broken part of me had accepted his death the instant I’d realized he had no pulse, but denial had granted me the strength to try anyway. Now, that denial refused to let my eyes fall back to the small device connected to his chest, but Crosshair was screaming, and the Senator’s daughter was crying, and there was too much at stake for even a moment to be lost for something so useless.

Still, I couldn’t understand the dancing line steadily making its way across the monitor. I’d seen it countless times before, but…

My chest bucked in a sharp gasp, body finally remembering how to move. In an instant, I was at Crosshair’s side, hands grabbing at his in an enraging struggle to finally rip that damned helmet off.

“Crosshair! Cross, baby, I’m going to help fix it, but you – ugh! – you have to… stop… fighting me!” I grunted, finally trapping one of his hands beneath my arm long enough to grab the ruined bucket. His scream turned desperate the instant the light reached him, and my stomach dropped. The skin around his eyes was scalded, red and oozing, and how could I possibly give him any words of reassurance that might offer even a breath of comfort in the face of those wounds?

I offered no warning before jabbing a hypo against his neck. He didn’t notice it anyway, lips wrenched clear of teeth gnashing around hitched gasps and feral cries he couldn’t begin to restrain.

“I’ve got you, Cross.” I murmured as those frenzied movements began to fail, one arm wrapping around his back to help guide him carefully to the floor while the other snatched for my med scanner with some futile hope that it might be able to identify whatever toxin was searing into his flesh. “That’s it, love; just breathe for me; okay?” I wasn’t sure if the drugs helped, or if they merely left him too weak to thrash anymore, and I wanted to shout apologies until my lungs gave out, but I didn’t turn away from the small scanner, eyes quickly studying every word that scrolled across the screen before dropping it to snatch my comm.

“Tech! Wrecker! Do you copy?!” I shouted, already pushing myself to my feet and sprinting toward the medbay.

“Yeah,” Wrecker answered barely a second later. “They okay?”

“I’m working on that,” I nearly cringed at the exhaustion in my voice, but quickly moved on. “I need something to neutralize an acid. Are you in a position where you can look this over?”

“Do you have an approximate idea of what the substance is?” Tech asked, words breathless in a way that made my guilt spike. I shouldn’t have to ask them… I should be able to figure this out myself… but the chemical equation dancing across the scanner was far too complex for me to work through in time.

“I’m sending it now.” I replied, fingers already flying over the scanner to share the readout.

“Oh.” I wasn’t surprised to hear the dread in Wrecker’s voice, but if he recognized the chemicals, then there was hope that he knew how to safely wash it away. “Yeah… think I can tell yuh what yuh need.”

Tech didn’t interrupt him. This wasn’t hardware or trivia or anatomy. This was chemistry. And, while I wouldn’t have second-guessed a word the pilot may have said, Wrecker’s knowledge was a matter of passion. The same interplay of atomic bonds and volatile reactions manipulated to detonate a building could be used to form acids powerful enough to melt through entire ships, and I trusted his word without a moment’s doubt. Still, the time it took to prepare the solution was torture, and I couldn’t run back through the ship fast enough to begin to ease that crippling guilt.

He was barely moving when I got back, shivering body curled onto his side, one hand clutching at his eyes while the other was locked around Hunter’s arm, and I felt the tears threaten to suffocate me as I realized he was too disorientated to recognize the steady rhythm still singing from the small monitor, to understand that his brother was alive.

“Crosshair; hey-hey-hey, listen to me.” I murmured quickly, satchel of equipment dropping carefully to the floor as I rushed to his side. “He’s alright. Hunter’s alright, but I need to take care of you now.” If he heard me, he didn’t respond, and I didn’t waste additional time trying to explain.

My heart was racing, anticipation searing through my nerves like lightning. He wasn’t going to like this. Kriff, he wasn’t going to like this…

He barely flinched when I gently laid my hand on his forehead, but the instant the first drop of liquid touched his cheek, whatever illusion of weakness the meds granted was gone. His limbs lashed out in a frenzy of panicked rage, kicking himself away while his arms swiped toward me in a vicious attempt to push me back. Cursing, I spun out of his reach just long enough to regain my footing.

Any other day, I’d have no hope in holding him down, but the body can only withstand the degree of agony he’d been subjected to for so long before even his muscles began to fail, so when I pinned his arms at his sides, my own legs quickly wrapping around him in a powerful hold, I had just enough time to empty that first syringe entirely, flooding his face with the neutralizing fluid.

I knew it would burn at first, and my face twisted into a sympathetic scowl at the fresh cries of a hurt I couldn’t imagine ripping through his already raw throat, but by the time I was halfway through the second, his thrashing began to ease, jaw hanging open around sputtering coughs as he spat out what trace amounts of fluid accidentally slipped past his lips.

“Good.” I murmured, hand once more settled atop his brow in an effort to carefully keep him still. “I know; I know it hurts, but this is helping, right? It’s getting better?” I expected no response, and he offered none, but he didn’t need to. I could feel the tension slowly fading despite the occasional twitch and choked grunt.

“Honey, I need to help you open your eyes, now. I need to make sure we rinse all that gunk out.” I warned, and my heart ached at how quickly that tension returned. “I know, but we’ll go slow, okay?” Voice quiet, gentle in a way I could only hope he might understand, I whispered to him, thumb already moving to pull at his upper lid as my thighs tightened at the way his arms wrenched against me. His head thrashed, desperate to escape my touch, but I followed him with ease, relentless until a dozen empty syringes lay strewn about the cabin, tossed aimlessly that I might hurry on to the next.

“Almost done.��� I breathed, but he’d already begun to fade, body only occasionally managing a weak flinch as I pushed the last of the solution over his other eye. That redness was still there, and only time would tell how well his eyes would heal… but the danger was over. I quickly coated the abused flesh in a generous layer of bacta before securing thick pads over his eyes with bandages.

They were alive. I could still see the steady rhythm of Hunter’s heartbeat scrawling atop the monitor beside him, and the cruel acid used to incapacitate Crosshair was neutralized. They were okay… Even the little girl had stopped crying, wide eyes watching me with an emotion I was far too exhausted to try to name as I staggered to my feet. Couldn’t leave them here… I’d get them to the medbay… get them settled… then I’d let myself breathe…

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[cmdrfupa]

Kento Nanami, His Royal Highness, has found himself curious about you. He refuses to call it infatuation because that's for people with no self control, something he has loads of. But social media is becoming increasingly less effective. He wants to experience you in the flesh and the perfect opportunity to meet you has landed in his lap. Now if you could always stay this close to him.

ModernRoyal!Nanami x PlusSize!Reader (black/woc coded but all can read and enjoy obvs 😗)

a/n: Congrats on 3k and Thank you @ayyy-pee for letting me participate the jujutsu journal event! I got carried away sksksksks. But I was inspired by this song . Idk what it was but it felt right. Anywho, I hope you enjoy!

WC: 3.4K

MDNI

c/w: partial smau, jealousy, sexual/provocative thoughts, stalker behavior, unhealthy infatuation and obsession, sexual acts, mentions of sex, italics aboose, internal dialogue, smut (vaginal fingering)

      He'd seen you in more and more of Gojos' IG posts over the last year, untagged. Assuming you were just a Gojo girl who wanted to be around for the perks of a wealthy socialite, He never asked to be introduced. But he did ask your name.

  A simple "Her face looks familiar" was all it took for Gojo to share not only your name and social media but also your profession, the university you were attending to get your degree, marital status, the name of your cat, and the fact that you lived in the US. Satoru loved to talk, thank goodness.

'Is that a Zenin? Tch'. A picture of you sitting in Naoya's lap, hand gripping your under thigh, sat on his dimmed screen. Maybe you had a reason for being seen with scumlike Naoya, but it wasn't a reason Kento wanted to know about. The following post was a brunch photo. A group of ladies with Gojo in the center. 'Keeping better friends. Smart girl.'. You were an enigma that brought him closer to the brink every time he saw your million-dollar smile.

His thoughts always started so pure before he thought about you in his bed, the strapless dress you wore in a photo captioned "Shawty got that dress on so the block is hot again" on his floor while at the same time, giving you the meanest strokes for teasing him this way. Thank heavens for the photos. Kento decided a throwaway Instagram account to like the posts and to look at your story would be brighter. Admiring more stealthily, he can at least fantasize about a life with you now that 'RateUp7_3' exists.

So put together. Every story or post included a bright smile or smolder in clothing that made him envy how they hugged your shape. Hair is always in its perfect, coiled natural state while you sit between Gojo and Geto or sit in their lap like some trophy. Satoru hugged you differently. Well. You were the only woman he seemed to hug in these photos. "Interesting," Nanami noted, something he should reanalyze when he has more time.

He pocketed his phone, realizing he had made it to his destination.

A small welcoming committee stood with broad smiles as they greeted HRH Crown Prince Kento. Bowing his head, taking the little book that was handed to him and began to look over the itinerary. "Busy week ahead! Your grandfather is waiting for you in Minato City." With that, his courtier, Ino, began to give him details for the coming week.

      Thanks to Gojo's extraordinary +1 privileges, you found yourself amid a private Gala he was obligated to attend. The champagne-colored satin gown, a cascade of elegance, draped your figure, accentuating the rich hues of your skin. A sight that could only be described as divine.

He broke off after briefly greeting Gojo, Geto, and others you weren't familiar with. He made his way to you near the bar, Easily making it seem like he was making his rounds to guests.

  "Good evening"

"Hello! You're Satoru and Suguru's' friend, right?" you inquired.

"I wouldn't say friend to Gojo. He's more like a gift with a purchase. But yes, I'm Ken."

  Giggles turned into a laugh once you both looked back over at Gojo, eating mini cupcakes, and Geto looking at him with concern.

Your laugh. It was the sounds of the heavens welcoming him to the golden throne. You snorted, and the resolve Kento had was officially withering.

"He's an interesting guy. I met him at a show I walked in a little over a year ago. Before that, he slid into my DMs and even sent me a pie to get my attention."

Kento didn’t think he could be jealous. That's for people who weren't self-assured. And he was very, very sure. Yeah, he's a man, but he's very strong-willed. No no. Not jealous. But this whole pie thing-

"Did it work?" Abruptly speaking. "The pie, I mean."

"Well, I'm talking to you right now. So what do you think?"

Kento exhaled a laugh, pushing back a strand of hair before looking over to you.

"He is a friend. A very good one. Always reliable"

"I've seen him in his element. He is indeed." sipping your cocktail, looking at him as you do.

"You mentioned walking in a show. Are you a model?" if you wanted to lie, it would've been a shame. He's already gone to see that your latest Savage Fenty ambassador collab dropped two days before you arrived in Japan. You looked ravishing in that fervently floral number.

"I am. I primarily work with small houses and on-the-rise designers. But that's how Satoru and I met. He was a guest model for FroviàGalón last season. It was a big hit. We've been working most shows together ever since."

This man could have any woman he wanted; He was Nanami family royalty. Handsome, smooth without even trying. He could buy a country with the proper connection if it mattered. But Gojo sending you a pie and practically being your purse dog makes him feel something. He was feeling jealous over a stupid pie and that white-haired imbecile. The slow unraveling because you snorted and the image of you spreading to show your glistening, plump, wet-

"The boy just loves to be in people's faces. He's one of the girls when we're out, so it's always a good time". Jealousy piques his nerves, and he notices your eyes trailing back to Gojo and Geto.

"He does enjoy good times."

"Speaking of, you plan on going to his after-party?" Innocence in your tone.

"After party? Of course, he finds that fitting for after a Gala."

His gaze lingered on your mouth, licking the remnants of the salted rim as you held the glass close to your body. The perfect honey-hued gloss with a hint of a shimmer. ’Her lips trailing down my chest, tongue lightly leaving a wet trail before swirling over my nip-‘

"You should come! I don't do parties, but since I'm on holiday, why not enjoy it?" the silky pep in your voice was going to be the death of him.

"I will consider it."

Get it together, Nanami.

Before he could offer to get you a drink, an older gentleman who looked very similar to Kento waved in his direction.

"I have to get going, unfortunately. But it was a pleasure meeting you. I.. don't know your name."

You tell him, smiling and holding your hand out.

"It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Ken. Hope to see you later tonight." He kissed your hand before walking off.

"Oh! And Bavarian cream."

"I'm sorry?" Confused, Kento turned back to you slightly.

"For the pie. I like Bavarian cream pie."

He smiled, turning away. "Fucks sake." He huffed, and his waistband was doing more work than anticipated tonight.

You made your way to the elevators, Gojo and Geto catching up as Geto wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.

Kento watched you intently as he stood with his family. Saying goodbye to other guests was the least of his concerns when the swaying of your body had his mind completely occupied. Getos arm causing a severe problem for him as it sat right at your ass.

5… 4… 3… breathe Kento

He continued to make small talk with the guest, smiling as you three got into the elevator, doors closing, and his heart racing.

  It was like Gojo needed to learn how to have a small party. His penthouse, one of many, was now an entire club. A spacious dance floor, an open bar, and a dessert bar because that man wasn't touching a drop of alcohol. But a slice of Black Forest cake? Different story.

With an area roped off, you headed through the crowded floor in that direction.

  "There's my girl!" Shoko stood first, taking the cigarette out of her mouth before hugging you tightly. "How are you, doll face?"

"Better now that I've seen you, babe."

“I'm glad you decided to show up over an hour late." Gojo chimed in, an overdramatized look of annoyance on his face while pulling you to sit beside him.

"Toru. You know me. I'm not wearing the same fit to an after-party, bookie. Your girl had to get cute and comfortable."

"And a pair of Versace platforms is comfortable?" Geto questioned, sass embedded in his tone with a smirk.

"Exactly. I knew you'd get it, SuguPoo." the group laughed.

"Suguru, she's a Versace and Moschino model now. Those platforms are nothing", Satoru closed in, a cheeky smile spreading across his face as he handed you a drink.

Your cheeks got warmer as he mentioned your latest gig. You had officially made your mark. You were now standing as one of the few black curve models to walk one of the major fashion houses, getting the gig with pure talent. "Oh, baby. The way I wasn't expecting to hear back after my little rant about fashion house politics. But who could say no to this body?" You ran your hands down your hips and lightly smacked your rear, pulling playful howls from Shoko and Gojo while Geto laughed, shaking his head at your antics.

"Come on, let's give our faves show. I've missed you!" Gojo grabbed your hand, leading you to the dance floor. Shoko and Geto sat back to watch with their drinks in hand.

Kento watched and waited until you left the area, hands finally relieved of the clammy feeling they had for the last hour. Trying to restrain the hard-on you gave him once he saw the tight dress you changed into, he slipped into the bathroom to wait you out.

Nanami joined them the moment you left the section.

"Where've you been?" Shoko questioned harmlessly.

"Was just talking with some old acquaintances. I was trying to get back to you guys."

"Your detail giving you some breathing room tonight?" Geto pointed with his chin to the security guard he was used to seeing with Nanami, in far less inconspicuous attire than usual.

"You could say that. Didn't want to kill the mood."

    It was as if the music slowed when Kento's gaze approached you. The dance floor was packed, but he knew where you were—dancing with Satoru, who he wished to flick away so you could be all over him instead.

The way your body was swaying, generous ass moving against Gojo to a very poor mix of Pour It Up by Rihanna. You made it worth sitting through an awful set if it meant seeing how you grind on literally anything. The short, amber-colored dress showed the ample flesh he felt so desperate to grip onto. ' If you could just sit in my lap so I could hold you up as I give you every fucking inch of me.’

"I'm gonna step out for some air." Kento stood up, grabbing his gin and tonic, not looking back to see if Geto or Shoko heard him.

  Outside, he leaned against the railing. The late-night weather was welcoming. The faint almond scent from the trees wafted past his nostrils pleasantly. Closing his eyes, he sighed deeply, leaning into the comfortable breeze against his skin.

Every bit of contact he'd had with you that day felt like a tiny gesture of sweet love. How your supple skin felt under his lips when he kissed your hand. Your laughter was a healing potion. He left the comfort of his estate to see a woman who made him weak just by snorting. You were the beautiful, intelligent woman who was friends with Gojo and Geto. Under 6 hours of finally experiencing your perfection in person without a barrier and he couldn't fucking breathe without his constricted dick throbbing. So many people had access to you and he wanted to know you better than they did. He wanted to be to only one with that access. You were a need. Needing you beside him, on top of him, under him, “I want to hear you same my name while I sing yours like a praise to the heavens. My angel. My everything”

    He brings the glass to his mouth, finishing the watered-down gin drink.

The sound of heels approaching brought him back to earth. "Having fun?" His angel came into view as he opened his eyes.

"More or less. It seems like you're having a blast." The shimmer of your lip gloss kept his eyes on your lips longer than he intended.

"For sure. Satoru is always my dance partner when we're out together."

"That happens often?"

"Eh. When I'm visiting here, only when Suguru doesn't feel like it. So very often."

Kento offered the space next to him as you both snickered. Standing by him, he finally saw your beauty under the moonlight. Everything about you was like an awakening. Flawless, gentle, soft.

A few moments of silence passed before you spoke. "You know, you should do a better job of staring from across the room if you were trying to be lowkey."

Your words stun him, a nervous laugh leaving his mouth as he stands up straight.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable by any means."

"I'm not uncomfortable. I wouldn't have come out here if I was."

Relief shows as the wrinkles in his forehead relax. "Was it really that obvious?"

"Maybe I'm delusional, but your eyes followed me most of the night."

"Not delusional. But, to be clear. I find you incredibly attractive."

Your cheeks were now warming as his brown eyes looked for yours. "I'm flattered.”

"Can I buy you a drink? Preferably at a quieter locale?"

"Are you asking me out, Ken?"

"I wouldn't subject you to a drink as a first date."

Your smile glowed a bit more as he placed his hand on your lower back, making your way to the closest exit with him.

"We can discuss a proper date during the drinks. I am a gentleman, after all."

"Show me the way then, Ken."

"So hotel stays are your usual choice when you're here?"

Trying to keep your balance, you wrapped yourself around Kento's arm while you walked down the corridor from the bar.

“50/50. I grab a hotel if I get in too late or stay at one of Toru's places if I tell him in time. I'll be doing that in the morning once I check out."

'Toru? We will have to talk about these nicknames.'

"Well, I hope I was pleasant enough company this evening."

"You're fun, Ken," your voice echoed as you approached the elevators. "You are quite the man, and I had a great time getting to know you."

"It's been my pleasure. You are captivating and have my attention." The energy was refreshing for you both. He wasn't another menace from your DMs. A philanthropist finance guy was rare—a gentleman with a gentle disposition.

You stopped, going to balance against the wall, bending over to take off your heels.

"Here, let me."

"It's alright, I got it." you persisted, with no progress.

"Darling, you're missing the strap of the heel. I insist." You giggled and watched as he bent down on one knee to unfasten the dainty strap, removing the heels from your feet as you held onto his shoulders for support. A heat rushed to your ears as you felt how delicate he was being with you.

"Ken, you are indeed a godsend."

Nanami carried your shoes as he led you into the elevator, holding it open. "Which floor are you on?"

“30th,”

He hit the floor number and went to lean against the back wall. You stood in front of him, eyes on his exposed collarbone.

Noticing your unsteadiness, he stepped forward and carefully placed his hands above your waist.

"Easy. You okay?"

With your heart racing at 1000 miles an hour, you could only nod.

* Floor 4*

You leaned forward, placing your hand on his chest to steady yourself. Cedarwood and alcohol on his breath. Your eyes met his with a shared feverish desire as you peered up. You were buzzing now from the proximity.

*Floor 9*

You don't know how your hand went from his chest to gripping his neck, nails running through his undercut, but it happened before you got to floor 20, where he stopped the elevator.

"Ken.. please,"

His large hands gripped your thighs, lifting one of your legs to wrap around him. Your dress was already short, now hiking up as he pressed his thick bulge into your inner thighs.

"Please.. please say my name again." He grinds himself into you, pang of desire in his voice, breath tickling your ear as you wriggle your hand between you both to unbutton his shirt from the top.

"Ken. Nngh, shit. Ken.. I need you."

Lips finding purchase on your neck, nipping at any skin he could sink his teeth into. The pads of his fingers run down your panty-covered slit. A shiver went through you as he circled at your throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Fuck! Please, Ken."

"Please, what, darling? Use your words for me." His voice grew gruff as he felt you trying to grind against him.

"Please make me cum for you,"

“You want to make a mess for me. You want to be a slut in this elevator?” The patronizing voice made you whimper as the sound of Kento ripping your thin panties jilted you, his middle finger sinking into you deeply. A deep moan was all you could muster as his thick digit pumped into you, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders as he kept you pressed against the elevator wall. "Keeennnn. Fuck”

"All that for me, princess? Your cunt this wet all for me?" He curled his thick finger inside, finding that soft, sweet spot that made your knees buckle. "Looking at my hands while I drove. Playing innocently with them while you sat beside me in the booth." Talking through his teeth, he brought his weight against you, keeping you up as he aimed to make you beg before the elevator automatically began to move again. "beautiful, plump cunt was begging to have my fingers fill you. Is this it? Hm? Is this what my princess needed?"

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, yes! P-please don’t stop." You were desperate for release. The sloppy noises of your wet cunt filled the elevator as he relished in the slippery sensation. Brushing his lips to yours, Kento languidly slid his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them his tongue over yours while his grunts grew louder—a string of saliva connected you, a shared fervid look as the elevator dinged.

His hand was soaked, but he couldn't let this be where he gave you an orgasm for the first time. Letting your leg down, he brought his hand to your mouth, running his fingers covered in your essence on your lips.

"When we get to your room, you are mine. All of you." The hungry determination in his eye didn’t leave room for question; you were to be devoured.

The sun was like a death ray as the bright rays and the constant buzzing nearby awakened you.

"Ken," you rolled over to see him lying on his back, bite marks and glitter across his chest.

"Mm," his groggy tone, letting you know he was only halfway listening.

"Ken. Please get your phone. That shit is going nonstop."

"Sorry, angel"

He groaned as he moved, kissing your shoulder gently. You kissed his lips as he reached over you to the bedside table. The vibrations didn't seem to have an end in sight.

"No one should need me this early. I should have an open schedule."

Opening the first text in his sights, he begins to read, stomach sinking as he clicks the link Gojo sent.

"Ken, you okay? "

Nanami sat his phone down, trying to keep his composure. He knew he had to prepare you for the whirlwind of a nightmare that was to come. For you, at least. He didn't have to take the drastic measures he originally planned to have you, at least.

This may be good. No more admiring outside of your photo shoots. No more trips with just Satoru and Suguru to islands. He would be your comfort; you'd be by his side only. This incident could be the beginning of a whirlwind romance. That is different from how he would've done things. But he could soothe this over eventually.

"Before I say anything, just know I will do everything possible to keep you comfortable. Okay?" the sincerity in his eyes had you. You nodded as you looked down at his phone, eyes widening as you read the now-trending story.

“Kento? What the fuck is this? Prince!?”

thanks to the lovely @/saradika for the dividers <3

banner featuring art from @/narutoss_ramen! please go check them out!

Thank you for reading! <3

[thequeenofthewinter]

Work-in-Progress Wednesday

I'm back with another snippet of the first chapter of the new Emmrook fic I am working on. Hopefully in the next week or so, I can get this up and running. I'm happy to report that it now has a title, "Even in Death Flowers Bloom." <3

Tagging: @oblivions-dawn @dirty-bosmer @skyrim-forever @umbracirrus @firefly-factory @pocket-vvardvark @theoneandonlysemla @crowthatwalks @rachelajoseph @ravenmind2001 @the-bear-and-his-sunbird and anyone else who might want to share something? No pressure or read this or share. <3 I just like knowing what others are working on. (If you'd like to be tagged or untagged, please don't hesitate to let me know. I would like to think I am very friendly.)

Ever since Iris left the Lighthouse, sleep has been something which eludes her. Perhaps it was something in the energy of the Fade or just that her body tired more easily as she almost never stopped running. But here—here amongst the gently crackling fire of the Necropolis torches, the smell of myrrh and embalming fluid, the taste of earth which faintly coats her tongue, it all but escapes her when normally it is her favorite lullaby. How long did she wish to be back here back safely in her own room? 

Iris sighs as she stares at the canopy of her bed. Maybe she should get up again, pace the halls, make a cup of lavender tea. Prepare herself. Inevitably, when sleep does come for her, nightmares almost always surely follow. While physically she might not be imprisoned anymore, the Fade still holds her dreaming hostage to its whims. Insomnia is both a blessing and a curse, but at the very least, her waking world is not so cruel.

Wake up, Iris.

Swirling mist clouds her vision, smoke and ash burning her lungs with every breath. 

Wake up, Iris.

She has to run, yet her muscles scream for rest, her legs giving out from under her.

Wake up, Iris.

Tears stream down her face, blackened tracks staining her cheeks. She has no time for this. A scream. Harding? 

Wake up, Iris.

A hand reaches out to hers and finally pulls her to her feet, cool metal meeting the flushed heat of her skin. Emmrich?

Suddenly, her hand slips from his, and she falls backwards into darkness. The faces of her friends spin past her vision as she tries to reach out for them, but each and every one of them slip through her fingers.

Wake up, Iris.

Her eyes snap open as she tries to catch her breath, nightgown soaked through with sweat. It was just a dream, and dreams cannot hurt you. Not if you do not let them.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Happy weekend.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 

“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 

“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 

He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 

“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 

You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 

You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 

As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 

“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 

You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 

“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 

“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 

She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 

You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 

More importantly, where are you going? 

Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 

You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 

“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 

“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 

“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 

He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 

“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 

“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 

She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 

“This is a nice place.” 

“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 

“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 

“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 

“Oh, wow.” 

“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 

You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 

“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 

“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 

“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 

The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 

“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 

“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 

Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 

“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 

“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 

Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 

“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 

“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 

“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 

“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 

“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 

He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 

“What?” Your voice cracks. 

“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 

“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 

“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 

“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 

His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 

“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 

You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 

“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 

“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 

You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 

“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 

You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 

The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 

“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 

“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 

Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 

“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 

You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 

“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 

You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 

“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 

He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 

“Money? For what?” 

He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 

“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 

“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 

“Thousand?” You breathe. 

“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 

“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 

“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 

“I... I...” you heave each word. 

“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 

He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 

“Me?” You gulp. 

“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 

You nod and curl your shoulders. 

“What kinda music you like?” 

“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 

“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 

“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 

“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 

Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 

“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 

“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 

“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 

You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 

“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 

“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 

He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 3)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 2038

A/N: Once again thank you for all the love this is a side blog so I can't reply from this account to you all below the post but I read every word I promise. You guys are the best ! Some people have asked about being tagged, yes I can tag you! So if you want to be added leave me a reply below and I'll tag you in the future parts and if you decide you want to be untagged just message me and I'll remove you it's okay I won't judge.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 3, Next Chapter

Over the next few weeks you committed to showing up to lessons more often, you spent time with the Weasley's but you avoided getting into trouble. People started noticing the sudden change in your behaviour and dedication to your studies, Percy was very proud of your change in attitude and believed his talk with you helped you get there, you let him believe it but really it was all profesor Lupins doing. Unfortunately his class was the one you got the worst grades in, it was okay when you didn't attend and got bad grades but even with attendance they didn't grow it was your weakest subject.

Your evening smokes continued some days Lupin was there some he wasn't but he was there often some days he wouldn't smoke he would just be there to talk with you, your conversations turned deeper than they used to be as you got to know each other and you looked forward to them, you saw him as someone you truly connected with, yes the girly attraction was still there but what girl didn't find him attractive he had girls flirting with him constantly. It did make you feel uncomfortable watching the girls put bright lipstick on before entering his class and staying behind to ask him questions or for extra lessons, but he seemed to not mind and act profesional giving the girls extra lessons and paying no attention to their advances.

You had DADA last on Fridays which normally would've meant a lot of people not paying attention and aching to leave but profesor Lupin kept the class entertaining and engaging. It was a practical lesson, the ones your dread because with lack of practice you genuinely sucked at practical lessons. But you got through it and you were excited for the weekend to start, before you left the class Lupin asked you to stay behind. So you said bye to Percy and a few others telling them you'll join them later, you weren't worried that you'll get told off like with most teachers when they ask you to stay behind it was Lupin so you patiently waited for the last few girls to say "bye profesor" while walking out and then went over to his desk where he had sat down.

"What's up?" You asked as you approached his desk.

"Please, sit down Y/N." He said quite formally gesturing to the seat in front of him, now you were getting worried. "I'd like to speak with you about your grades." He paused and saw your face drop before continuing. "Now please don't think of this as a telling off, your attendance is better this year than any year before and I've heard great things from your other teachers about the progress you've been doing." He said but you still looked worried so he added. "You should be very proud of yourself Y/N." Which made you relax into the chair a bit more. "Nevertheless, I am worried about your grades in my subject as you're doing well in the theory side however it's using the spells in practice that you seem to struggle with. I know you've had a few hard years with the rotation of teacher, some worse than others, so it's not your fault you are in this position." He said all of this formally. "Although notoriously skipping classes for the last sexi years probably didn't help." He said with a small laugh as a friend rather than a teacher. "I want to help you, I've been speaking with your head of house about how we can improve your grades and we believe you need extra lessons, practical magic like this can't be learnt through studying alone in your dorm you need real practice. So I'm happy to offer you tutoring twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays, to help you catch up." You sat silent still. "You don't have to do this, but profesor McGonagall and I do believe it is in your best interest." He added you just looked down embarrassed that you skipping classes has lead to this. "Okay Y/N I'm dying here please say something." He said casually addressing your silence.

"Thank you profesor." You said.

"How do you feel about my suggestion?" He asked.

"Embarrassed." You stated. "How so?" He asked I'm a caring tone. "I wouldn't be in this situation if I listened to everyone when they told me not to skip so many lessons."

"You're not the only student who will be receiving extra lessons, I have a small group of girls that have asked for extra time that I teach on Tuesdays. If you want you can join them so it's not just one-on-one if that's more comfortable for you?" He offered.

"But I'm the only one who actually needs tutoring. They only asked for it because they have a crush on you." You blurted out in your annoyance.

"Trust me crush or not some of those girls need extra lessons. Still after weeks of receiving them." He said honestly. "They're too busy staring at your lips to learn I guess." You said laughing to yourself, he gave you a gentle smile. "Y/N, you're a quick learner. You know the theory, with a little practice you'll be caught up by Christmas."

"Okay. As long as these lessons are done by 9pm." You said with a hint of humour.

"I would never let education get in the way of your nicotine addiction, I'm not a monster." He replied jokingly. "We have a deal." You say.

"Perfect, now enjoy your weekend." He said and you took that as a queue to leave. "And Y/N, don't let this overshadow all the effort you've been putting into your studies, you're doing amazing." He said whole heartedly.

"Thank you professor." You said leaving the classroom. You looked him as a teacher so if you needed anyone to give you extra lessons you were glad it was him.

You went straight to the great hall for dinner after your conversation with Lupin, Fred and George had a space saved for you next to them. "What took you so long?" Fred asked.

"Lupin is making me take extra lessons." You said solemn.

"Bullshit, you've been studying harder than ever."  Fred expressed.  "I know but I'm still behind, plus it's only two days a week and he said it'll only be until Christmas." You explained.

"I think it's a conspiracy." George stated. "Now why's that?" You ask amused. "They're obviously trying to keep you away from us so we don't pull any pranks." He expresses. "This has old minnie all over it." Fred adds sniffing the air comedically.

"Now that you mention it..." you say looking over at the teachers table watching Lupin and McGonagall speaking. "...Lupin did mention this being her idea."

"See! Merlin, Y/N we need to pull a prank now." George states. "Show them we can't be stopped so easily." Fred adds. "I don't know guys, I've been enjoying not sitting in detention."

"George, she's getting all soft." Fred states. "Now that's not okay." George replies and they both have a cheeky smile before they stand up and suddenly pick you up while you protest taking you out the great hall while you laugh and tell them to stop, you hadn't even had time to eat before the kidnapping and the whole school watched this happen but the boys didn't care. They carried you straight to the dorm room plopping you down on the sofa. "Y/N it's time to plan our first big prank of the year." George begins. "Perfect timing as well as we can go to Hogsmeade over the weekend to get any supplies we need."  You laugh and agree to the plotting, you plan a prank. It was to happen in the library, the plan was to hex every book, the books about animals would bite you, the books about history would disintegrate in your hands, the books about plants would be filled with soil and so on. You would obviously need to take all the real books and hide them but that wasn't a problem using the marauders map. You were looking at the map when you noticed Lupin was already standing on the bridge, you checked your watch and it was after 9pm already, he was just standing there you felt like you were missing out on seeing him plus you were scared he'd think you're ignoring him after your conversation earlier. "Boys I need to go, it was a pleasure scheming with you as always. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that you took the map, put it in your pocket and headed for the bridge. When you were around the corner you saw Lupin walking down the corridor in your direction, he must've finished smoking you thought. "Good evening professor." You said with a smile and me looked up at you with a grin. "Evening, Y/N. Evening stroll?" He questioned as if to ask why you didn't go to the bridge tonight.

"Just going to destress." You said showing him your pack of cigarettes.

"I forgot mine in my office I was just going to go get them." He explained, odd because he had been standing on the bridge for a while you think to yourself.

"You can borrow one of mine." You state.

"I'll give you two tomorrow." He replies turning around to walk with you. "I hope I wasn't too harsh on you today." He says as you walk after a moment of silence.

"You weren't harsh at all." You say with a hint of confusion.

"I didn't think you would come here today in all honesty, after the way you looked at me after class and during dinner." He said with a soft smile but you could tell there was some hurt behind there. "How did I look at you?" You ask.

"Differently." He simply stated, maybe because usually you look with admiration and a bit of lust while now you were looking at him like at a teacher for the first time.

"Well you are about to ruin two evenings a week for me by making me study." You remark.

"Is that how you see spending time with me? Am I ruining your evening right now?" He teased.

"You know what I mean, this Lupin isn't the same as profesor Lupin." You say adding emphasis to professor.

"I am the same person Y/N. If you're afraid that I'm going to be making you write essays and do homework you're mistaken, I promise I'll make the evenings fun." He says in his teacher tone. Maybe it was the mischievous energy from planning a prank that allowed you to say what followed maybe it was purely forgetting he's not your friend but you replied with. "Fun evenings? What does that mean?" You watched him swallow getting a bit uncomfortable and not knowing how to answer. "I mean don't treat it like a punishment. I'm just trying to help." Your brain went straight to replying with something inappropriate about getting punished but you held your tongue as you didn't want to push it too far.

"I hope you don't think I hate you, I really enjoy our talks." You say. I really only came here to talk to you, I feel like smoking on a empty stomach will make me feel worse." You we're over sharing now but he didn't seem to mind.

"I watched you get carried out by the Weasley twins before dinner, the whole school did." Lupin remarked unamused making your face go red.

"Yeah they were messing around and wanted to go talk as they said I've been too busy with lessons this year."

"They sound like a bad influence," He said sternly before pausing and thinking. " keep them around sometimes you need friends like that." He added.

"Profesor you're great at encouraging bad behaviour." You say laughing.

"Friendships like that are sometimes very important, if only you knew what I got up to when I was your age." He said with a soft reminding smile.

"And what would that be?"

"I can't say, I'm your teacher after all." He added a wink at the end which you didn't know the meaning of, but all you did know was you wouldn't find out anything more about his past.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

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[chococara25]

Tidbit Thursday

Untitled piece Light Shop AU based on this post where Buck currently in an unexplained coma when he found out about Tommy's accident. Featuring Daniel.

.....

Buck didn’t know what’s going on. One moment he was in the hospital, everyone insisting that he get a check up, next thing he knew he was standing by a hospital bed staring down at his own body.

“What the fuck?” He said out loud, but ignored by the doctors and nurses around him.

“Again Evan?” He turned around in surprise to see the last person he thought of seeing ever again standing behind him.

“Daniel?”

“Hello little brother.” His dead brother stood beside him.

“What happened to me?”

“You clipped your head with some debris and had a delayed reaction to it. Thankfully it's not a subdural hematoma but let’s just be glad you were in the hospital when you fainted.” He slung his arm around his shoulder. “So anything new in your life, little brother?”

“I broke up with my boyfriend and picked up a new hobby. Maddie’s pregnant though, it’s a boy. They are thinking about naming him after you or Chim’s adopted brother Kevin.” He nodded at the hovering 118 fam just outside his hospital room.

“Nice. Oh hey, it seems you will be waking up soon.” Daniel nodded to spiked reading on the monitor hooked to Buck’s body. “Give Maddie and the niblings my love okay?”

Buck turned to hug his brother just when he hurt the conversation outside. “-still in surgery. Doctors aren’t that positive about him surviving though, the damage are extensive. God, how are we gonna tell Buck Tommy might be dead?”

Buck froze.

What the fuck?!

He pulled himself out of Daniel’s warm hold and ran out the room and down the hall, frantically looking for the surgery bay. There, waiting in front of Operation Theatre 3 were members of Pilot Firefighters under 217 and a man wearing a uniform bearing the number 122, reminding him of a vague comment from Tommy about his friend being one of the captains of 122.

“I’m gonna fucking kill Han!” The man snarled. “Fucker ghosted him after the fucking breakup just to call him to prank him?!! Now my fucking friend is dying because of him!!”

“Stop it!” Lucy snarled back, holding who Buck recognized as Miriam, Tommy’s aeromedic, who were weeping loudly. “He's gonna be alright! He's going to survive this and come back soon."

“Chim did this?” Buck whispered, horrified, ignoring as Lucy and the captain arguing loudly.

“He thought he was doing the right thing, like what he did to you friends.” Daniel said reprovingly, having followed his brother’s mad dash across the hospital. “Poor guy, the doctors are just wasting their time but he’s gonna die soon.”

“Don’t say that!” Daniel was horrified to see tears in his little brother’s eyes.

“Are you… crying for him?! After what he did to you?!”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care for him!! Because I do, I still love him even though he broke my heart!!” Buck yelled, his chest heaving angrily.

Daniel sighed. “You are too nice for your own sake, Evan.” Both of them settled to wait, watching as the angry fire captain pacing and cursing 118. (Frankly Buck couldn’t help but agree with his sentiment as he found out from Lucy’s and Miriam conversation how the entire 118 had ghosted Tommy after all that bullshit about being a family for the last six months).

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