#BUT SERIOUSLY THIS IS EITHER ALMOST 2K WORDS OR OVER IT THE LAST TIME I CHECKED WAS AT 1.7K AND I DIDN'T HAVE THE HEART TO CHECK AGAIN

[1d1195]

Most - Extra I

Read Most here | ~2k words

From me: It's probably too early for an extra for them, but I seriously couldn't resist. Takes place sometime within the first couple of months of the last part.

Warnings: this is going to be disgustingly sweet. Nothing to report except you'll have a toothache after reading.

Summary: Harry gets to rush home from work now to the love of his life. Everything about her makes his heart ache.

Harry was exhausted. Now that she was home, he didn’t have a reason to avoid going home to be by himself. There was no need to feel suffocated by loneliness because he wasn’t alone anymore. So, he changed his work schedule quite a bit. He wasn’t single anymore (even if he never felt that way anyway). But he didn’t do overtime much anymore. He didn’t pick up shifts that others didn’t want or were unable to work due to their own families. The station was never left stranded regardless, but he wasn’t the go-to ask anymore. He felt a little bad and still occasionally took a short overtime shift, but not nearly as many as the insane hours he was prior to her coming home. He didn’t take his time leaving either the way he used to. There was no need anymore. Fortunately, all his coworkers were completely understanding.

48 hours on and 96 hours off. A normal shift for a firefighter. It was so much better than the 18-hour days he was doing before she returned. He could see her for days at a time. He pampered her, snuggled her, and kissed every inch of her skin like she might disappear again even though he really didn’t believe that anymore the way he did when she first came home.

But the end of this two-day shift left him exhausted. It was exceptionally busy. Thankfully, no one was hurt. Only one small house fire contained to the kitchen and the toaster that caught the curtain in the window at fault. There was lots of paperwork that needed filing and reporting for a hundred different things. There was more training. Another visit to the elementary school and a safety outreach program in partnership with other community groups.

Harry grabbed his bag from the back seat, locked his door, and headed inside. Each step felt heavier than the next. He couldn’t wait to get into bed beside her and snuggle her. With the way her work schedule was, she had arrived home after him the last few times. But today, her car was parked next to his. It made his heart flutter. Happy that he had everything he ever wanted. The love of his life, a cute house, and everything. But Harry could have done without the house, the car, the career he loved.

She was there.

That was everything.

It was late. Almost eleven. The outside air was chilly. The moon glowed so bright it almost felt like a stage light on his arrival home. There was the smell of a campfire somewhere a few streets over. All concluding to a perfect fall night. He almost wanted to wake her just so she could come outside and smell it because it reminded him of a bonfire they went to when they first started dating. They made out under a tree and giggled about all their future while their friends drank around the fire.

Quietly, he unlocked the door. He was hoping she wouldn’t wake from his arrival. Her classes alongside work had been kicking her butt. Maybe worse than a 48-hour shift not that she would ever let him think that. No, she doted on him and made sure he was doing okay regardless of how tired she was. It made his heart ache with how much she adored him, but Harry was lucky to have five days off between his shifts. She was lucky if she had one.

Kicking his shoes off right inside the door he was overwhelmed with how good it smelled. A combo of whatever she cooked for dinner and the now permanent scent of her hair care wafting through the house from bathroom all the way to the living room. If this had been even a year ago, Harry never would have thought it was possible to have it all. But the smell of her shampoo was enough to make his eyes watery. Especially after a long couple of days.

He dropped his bag by his shoes, locked the front door, and turned to make his way to the kitchen to put his Tupperware in the dishwasher. He wished he looked sooner because the sight made his heart skim a beat. A strangled, quiet groan came from his throat, as he tried to stop it so he would wake her. Wouldn’t start sobbing with how much he adored her.

Harry rushed to the living room sofa, dropped to his knees beside it. One hand fell to her hip and danced up the curve of her waist, resting on her ribcage as her breath moved her body up and down at gentle intervals. “Kitten,” he murmured.

She didn’t stir. Harry placed a hand over her ear along the side of her head. Softly he rubbed his fingertips into her head. “Baby,” he tried again. Seeing her so peacefully on his couch made him possessive and happy. He wanted nothing more than to watch her like she was his favorite show. All she had to do was sleep; it was enough entertainment for him. They dreamed of things like this and now it was here, and he felt so much love it made him want to cry.

She grunted softly. “Hi baby,” she hummed reaching out and grabbed at his T-shirt. She pulled at the chest, right below the collar of it and tugged him toward her more. Then, she slid her hand over his face. “You okay?”

“M’fine. Why aren’t y’in bed, kitten?"

"S'cold,” she mumbled, yawned.

“So, turn the heat up, baby,” a smile was in his voice as he shook his head at her.

She shook her head back in response. Slowly, she sat up. Her arms came and wrapped around his shoulders and tucked her face into his neck. “Not that kinda cold,” she mumbled.

Fuck, he loved her so much. She was so cute it made him want to scream. She was purposefully on the sofa. Waiting for him.

He swallowed the emotion that was blocking his throat, and he exhaled slowly to calm himself before he had to explain to her why he was crying like a baby because of her and how much he loved her.

He was royally fucked when she walked down the aisle. He would blubber. There wouldn’t be enough tissues in the world to dry his eyes.

“Baby, y'can't sleep on the couch every time m'at work."

"Watch me."

God. His arms tightened around her waist, and he kissed the side of her head as he rocked her gently. He couldn't be close enough to her. "S'bad for your neck t’be on the couch, kitten.”

"It's bad for my heart to be without you in bed."

Harry was going to sob because of her. He squeezed her again. He wasn’t arguing. He just wanted her to be comfy and cozy. Gently, he gripped just behind her knees and pulled her legs around his hips and swiftly stood all in the same movement. He kissed her temple. “Are you hungry?” She asked sleepily. “I’ll make you a plate,” but she nuzzled into his neck, and he almost wanted to say yes, just so he could see how she would manage while half asleep. He thought it was adorable. She was adorable.

“No, kitten. M’fine.”

She frowned. “Did you eat?”

“I ate baby. Don’t worry,” he promised.

“You don’t have to carry me. I’m heavy and you worked so long—”

“Shh,” he hushed. He supported one arm beneath her bum, cradling her to him. He carried her to the bedroom and placed her softly on the mattress before he moved away. She pouted rubbing at her eye with the palm of her hand.

“Where are you going?”

He really didn’t think his heart could take how cute she was. It felt like it was bursting, threatening to break out of his ribcage and find its way into hers so it could be next to her heart. “M’jus’ changing, baby, showered before I left,” he explained. “Gonna be all snuggled close.”

She sighed with relief. Crawled beneath the covers and waited patiently while Harry stripped down to his boxers and went to the bathroom to quickly swish his toothbrush around his mouth.

Harry wasted no time getting into bed. He lifted the sheet, blanket, and comforter that she had decorated the bed in a pattern Harry never would have had if she didn’t live with him. It was plenty warm. Rendering her defense all the sweeter.

He opened his arms for her to nuzzle against him where she also wasted no time falling into his embrace.

Maybe one day she would sleep in bed without him suffocating her with his cuddling.

But it wasn’t going to be any time soon.

“I love you,” she murmured to him.

“I love you,” he kissed down the length of her neck.

“Missed you so much.”

Sometimes he didn’t know if he meant her shift or the three years that he didn’t see her.

“I missed you, baby,” honestly it didn’t matter what she meant because the moments she wasn’t within his sight he missed her like crazy. Too much time apart made him a little insane. A little hungry for time that he couldn’t get back. But he would try anyway and enjoy every second of it. “Don’t sleep on the sofa waiting for me,” he hummed. He worried about her always. “It’ll hurt your neck.”

“Don’t you care about how my heart will hurt, Harry?” Her voice was soft, joking.

“More than anything, kitten,” he promised, seriously. “M’always going t’come home t’you though. Did y’sleep on the sofa last night?” He wondered, realizing that there was always going to be a day he didn’t know where she slept. She nodded against him. No speaking. Perhaps she was too tired. Too tired to pretend as well. There was a tight pressure around his heart and a half-smile, half-frown pulled on his lips. “Baby,” he tutted. “I don’t want you t’do that.”

“S’too late. Spent too many nights without you,” she mumbled.

So, Harry understood. He would have to think of something to help her. But for now, he understood. “M’in love with you,” he reminded her.

“Me too, baby,” she squeezed him making him feel whole.

He cupped the back of her head, kissed the center of her forehead letting his lips press there for so long he hoped it would suction his mouth to her skin just so he never had to let her go ever again. “Can we have French toast in the morning?” She whispered.

He nodded easily, his eyelids felt heavier as they closed, and his chin bumped the top of her head. “Whatever y’want, kitten.”

“Whatever I want?” She murmured.

He nodded again. “Always.”

“Harry?” She whispered. It seemed she got a bit of a second wind from the time he got her off the sofa and brought her to bed. Unfortunately, Harry wasn’t feeling any bit of it. As much as he wanted to stay awake and talk to her for hours on end, he hadn’t slept much the last two days and he felt sleepiness winning over the desire to speak.

“Hmm?” He hummed, almost falling fast asleep before he could hear her again.

“I hate sleeping without you. I never want to do it ever again unless you’re working or you’re on a trip with your family or because Niall wants to sleep with you,” she took a deep breath while Harry smiled and shook his head at her. “So, when we get married, I don’t want to do a single night apart, not even the day before.”

Harry reached for her left hand that rested on his shoulder and he softly rubbed her ring finger. He nodded. Kissed the crown of her head and sighed. “Okay, angel,” he murmured. “No night’s apart that aren’t necessary.”

“I’ll stop talking. You can go to sleep.”

“Don’t get out of bed in the morning,” he murmured and squeezed her tighter. “I hate when y’do that,” he grumbled.

She giggled. “I’ll wake you.”

“Good,” he sighed. “I love you. More than anything.”

“I love you,” she answered. “More than anything.”

--

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[lovelyjuju]

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤 [𝟐] - 𝐛𝐲𝐮𝐧 𝐞𝐮𝐢𝐣𝐨𝐨

bf!euijoo x fem!reader

genre: love at first sight – college au!, fluff

warnings: cheeeesy, nicknames (love)

word count: ~2k

finally, part 2 of starstruck that was requested here, i hope you enjoy!! 🤍

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

the hallway was buzzing as students darted in and out of rooms, but euijoo didn’t seem to notice any of it. standing outside your exam hall, he held your hand a little tighter, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

“so, i’ll see you later?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the chatter around you. "you're going to do great, okay? don't worry about it," he reassured you.

you replied with a nod and a soft smile, glancing down for a moment and feeling a warm blush creep up your face.

he leaned in and brushed a kiss against your cheek, lingering just long enough for it to feel like more than a friendly goodbye. when he pulled back, his smile was bashful, like he wasn’t quite sure he should have done it but also couldn’t stop himself.

as you slipped into class after wishing him good luck for his own exam, you didn’t notice the figure standing just down the hall, arms crossed, an amused grin spreading on his face.

nicholas waited until you disappeared, then strolled over, nudging euijoo's shoudler playfully.

“alright, alright, hold up,” he began, his voice light but full of accusation. “so, we’re just kissing in the middle of campus now? since when have we moved on from hopelessly staring in the library every tuesday at 3 p.m.?”

euijoo startled, running a hand through his hair, but his guilty smile betrayed him. “it's not like that, it’s… new. i was going to tell you.”

nicholas shot him a playful glare. “new? you’ve been obsessing about her for an entire semester, and i had to watch you agonize over every tiny interaction. i mean, seriously, torture. i was the one who pushed you to make a move and now you’re dating her, and i don’t even get an update?”

euijoo chuckled, trying to defend himself. “well, technically, we’re not… dating. i mean, we like each other, but we haven’t really talked about being official or anything.”

nicholas shot euijoo a look of exasperation and let out an exaggerated sigh. "seriously, juju, do you need step by step instructions? you've confessed – you've done the hardest part. don't you think it's time for an actual relationship talk?"

euijoo blinked at nicholas, his expression blank as if letting what he'd just said sink in. then, he nodded slowly, "i think you're right."

“i always am,” nicholas said, smirking. “how about a date with candlelight or stargazing or whatever else that daydream-y head of yours can come up with? come on, make it official.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

the day you finally finished your last exam, you went home, took a quick shower and stood in front of your wardrobe for what felt like an eternity to think about what to wear.

euijoo had told you to go for something you felt comfortable in, but he'd seemed so nervous about asking you out that you couldn't help but think he might have planned something special. it would be special either way; you felt like with euijoo, everything would be special.

after you'd decided to go for a pair of comfortable jeans and your favorite top, you got your hair and make up done just in time for euijoo's text.

"i'll leave now, i'll be there in five"

you replied with a quick 'okay', told him you were looking forward to it, and grabbed your bag and keys, deciding to wait for him in front of your door.

when he pulled up, you couldn't help but smile, feeling anticipation and excitement bubbling up in your stomach as he opened the car door and stepped out a second later with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in one hand.

you quickly rushed over to him, letting him pull you into a careful hug and immediately felt a warm feeling spreading across your chest.

"hey," you greeted him after pulling back.

"hey," he replied gently, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he handed you the bouquet almost a little hesitantly as if he was too shy to do it.

"these are for you," he explained the obvious, " i don't know if you like them, but i thought they were pretty and you have some clothes and accessories in that color, so i was hoping you'd like them, but if not then–"

you pulled him down by the collar of his shirt to press a soft kiss onto his lips, interrupting his rambling. euijoo's eyes widened in surprise, but he reciprocated the kiss almost immediately, his cheeks slightly blushed when you pulled back.

"actually, these are my favorite," you said with a bright smile. "thank you, euijoo, they're beautiful."

not as much as you, he thought, but the words got stuck in his throat.

you quickly rushed inside, placing them in a vase to make sure they wouldn't dry out during whatever plans he'd made, and sat in the passenger seat of his car once you were done.

the drive was filled with silence, only the quiet sounds of the radio playing and the traffic, but it didn't feel awkward. euijoo's hand was wrapped around yours, resting on your thigh, and he only let go when he had to shift.

when he parked in front of an apartment complex, you glanced over to him. he stopped the engine and turned to look at you.

"i know it's not special, but i wanted today to be more personal and less... public?" he asked rather than explained.

your lips curled up into a small smile and euijoo could practically feel a weight lift off his shoulders.

"everything is special with you," you replied, barely louder than a whisper, causing euijoo to smile a little more brightly and to look down for a second like he always did when he got flustered.

after he’d opened the passenger door and led the way to his apartment, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back, he opened the door and stepped inside after you.

the moment you entered, a delicious scent filled the air, tickling your senses. before you could ask, euijoo spoke up. "i’ll show you around first," he said, and you nodded in agreement.

after a quick tour of his small apartment, he took your hand and guided you to the last stop: the cozy kitchen. the aroma was even stronger here, and as you looked around, you spotted a few pots simmering on the stove.

"like i said, i wanted today to be a bit more personal," he said, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly, "i hope it's edible."

you chuckled softly. "if it tastes half as good as it smells, you’re doomed to cook for us for the rest of your life," you teased, standing on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

euijoo motioned for you to sit at the small kitchen table, lighting a candle in the center before filling two plates with food.

you shared the meal, you going on about his impressive cooking skills, and him quietly admiring how beautiful you looked in the warm candlelight.

after you’d finished, he reached for your hand resting on the table, brushing his thumb softly over your knuckles. for a moment, you simply looked at each other, the flickering light casting shifting shadows across your faces, and you felt your heartbeat quicken just from watching him.

"come with me for a second," euijoo said softly, letting go of your hand only to stand up and offer you his hand again. you stood up, took his hand, and followed him to the living room, where he opened the glass door that lead to his balcony.

the two of you slipped outside, the night air brushing against your face as you moved closer to the railing, gazing down at the illuminated city below.

euijoo stood behind you, carefully wrapping his arms around you and placing his hands over yours on the railing. he rested his chin on your head, his warmth enveloping you as you both stood in comfortable silence for a while.

"y/n," his soft voice broke the quiet after a bit.

"hmm?" you replied, slipping your hands out from under his and turning to face him. you were close enough to feel his warm breath mixing with the cooler night breeze.

euijoo closed his eyes briefly, exhaling before meeting your gaze again. "do you remember how we confessed on that balcony at the party?"

you giggled softly and nodded, "of course i remember." you could feel your heartbeat pick up, but you tried to keep cool, not letting it show.

"i thought… maybe it’d be nice to, you know," he hesitated, "make things official?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically careful, as if he was afraid to ask.

you furrowed your brows slightly. "you mean–"

"yes," euijoo interrupted. "will you be my girlfriend?"

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

a few days later, you found yourself at euijoo's place again, helping him to arrange some snacks while waiting for his best friend nicholas. you hadn't properly met him yet, and euijoo wanted to introduce you two to each other, so he invited you both over for a cozy get-together.

when the doorbell rang a few minutes later, euijoo answered, soon returning with nicholas. you offered a smile, which he returned as you introduced yourselves.

“i can’t believe my best friend finally gets to be with the girl he’s been obsessed with for a whole semester,” nicholas announced as soon as you’d all settled on the sofa.

you and euijoo both blinked in surprise, and while you asked a surprised “huh?” euijoo let out a mortified “nicholas!”

“wait– a whole semester?” you asked, looking back and forth between them.

“actually a bit longer–” nicholas began.

"nicholas." euijoo interrupted, eyes stern but cheeks too pink to look actually annoyed.

“euijoo, that’s sweet,” you said with a pout, your stomach bubbling with butterflies at the thought of him liking you that long. but you paused, furrowing your brows in confusion. “wait, we only met at the start of the semester?”

before euijoo could reply, nicholas blurted out: "trust me, he was gone from the first time he saw you in the hallway," a grin on his face.

euijoo just sighed, running his hand over his face in frustration. "you're embarassing me, nicholas, stop it."

nicholas turned to euijoo and stuck his tongue out childishly, "i'll tell her about all the times you stopped and stared when she walked by!"

"i did not stare," euijoo protested, his cheeks only deepening in color.

you hid a smile, looking at euijoo, feeling warmth blossom inside. he’d liked you for so long, never giving up, yet never making you uncomfortable with it. and now here you were, with him as your boyfriend – something you couldn’t have wished for more, as everything he did for you came so naturally to him.

"i had no idea..." you said softly, leaning your head against euijoo's shoulder and feeling his warmth welcoming you as always.

when nicholas left a few hours later, the two of you stayed cuddled up in comfortable silence. eventually, euijoo’s fingers stroked through your hair, drawing your gaze up to him.

"sorry for... that," he said, cheeks faintly pink. "i didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, please don't think i'm some creep who–"

"euijoo. love," you interrupted gently, his eyes widening in surprise at the nickname, "it's sweet. i didn't know, but i'm glad you didn't give up on me, even when i was busy being clueless," you chuckled.

a soft smile curved euijoo’s lips as his fingers continued their gentle path through your hair. “well, i tried… didn’t work,” he chuckled.

you smiled back, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, and he looked at you, eyes bright, revealing all the love he was still finding the words to express.

© lovelyjuju (2024)

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[hamiltonaf]

Can you write a angst to fluff about Mbappé, he was very distant and cold with y/n and spend his free time with friends and neglected her or when he is home he gets angry with her and she got upset and left him and went to her friend or family to be away from him thinking maybe he is cheating or something (but it’s not the case) and when he realizes what he’s done he fight for her to go back to him and did everything to get her back and she forgives him because she is pregnant

Kiss & Make up | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Language & Angst but turns into fluff

A/N: Hello loves ! Finally got down to writing this and was quite surprised how quickly I did - I just wait for angst requests so I guess I got a little carried away. I hope you loves enjoy .xx

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Another weekend of thinking that Kylian and I would spend time together, but yet again he blows me off to spend time with his friends. I’ve about had it with his late nights and poor excuses. It’s driving me up the wall and I can’t stand the fake promises.

It’s almost 1am on a Saturday and he promised he would be home by 11pm. I’ve sent him countless messages, but he hasn’t replied or called me back. I even tried Achraf but he didn’t get back to me either. So, I waited. I really thought that he would at least notice how distant we’ve been lately and perhaps change that, but you know what they say… love is blind.

I had a shower and was ready for bed, but I was eagerly waiting for his arrival. He doesn’t know what’s coming.

It was 1:45am when I heard the door shut and heard his heavy footsteps coming towards our room. I was sat up against the headboard as I watched him take off his jacket and placed it on the bed. “Kylian, do you know what time it is ?” I asked seriously. “No” he said plainly as he then sat at the edge of the bed, back facing me as he took off his shoes. “You told me you’d be home by 11 and it’s almost 2 in the morning ! I tried calling you and even Achraf but both of you didn’t have the decency to even let me know if you’re coming home late !” I raised my voice. “Well, I’m here now” he said casually.

“Kylian, I swear to God your attitude is getting on my last nerve. This is the fourth or so time you blew me off for your friends. I think I’ve been quiet for far too long !” I said as I got up from the bed and walked over to stand in front of him. “Can you stop with the yelling, I’m so tired” he shook his head as he stood up and walked past me. “What the hell..you’re tired ? I’m tired of your shit excuses. Go fool some other girl who’s dumb enough to believe you. Do I have dumbass written on my forehead ?” I asked.

“Can you just shut up !” He yelled as he walked towards me. “Excuse me ?” I said stunned. “Stop with the fucking screaming. I’ve heard enough already” he said. “Obviously not ! You’re missing the bloody point as to why I even brought this up” I grew frustrated. “You’re so damn clingy, I can’t even spend time with my friends” he scoffed. “I’m clingy ? Well excuse me for actually wanting to spend time with my boyfriend when I barely even see him because I have priorities of my own. At least I tried to even make the time and you couldn’t” my voice cracked as I felt my tears pool at my eyes.

I hated crying in an argument, I never want to feel as if I’m weak, but I couldn’t control my emotions. “We talk every day. Is that not enough for you ?” He argued. “I can actually count the times we video call each other because that’s how rare it is. You can even go through our chats and see how short they are because you’re always busy” I tried to say calmly in between sniffles. My heart then told me to just leave and this isn’t worth fighting for. “You know how busy my life is and I have other priorities !” he argued. That was it.

I walked right past him without a word to our closet to pack my bag. I need to get out of here. With my tears falling even more and my vision so blurry, I barely saw what I packed in my bag..out of frustration and disappointment I just grabbed whatever clothes of mine I could find into my bag. “What are you doing now ?” He asked concerned as he watched me pack haphazardly. “I’m leaving” I sniffled. “Wait..what ? No, you can’t leave” he said as he stopped my hands. “Don’t touch me !” I said sternly and pulled my hands away from his. “You can’t leave” he said. “Just watch me” I said as I packed the last of my bag and zipped it up.

“Can we just talk ?” He said as I walked past him to grab my phone and slip on a hoodie. “Just like you didn’t care all this time, now I don’t either. You and your friends can piss off !” I said as I shoved past him when he attempted to block our door. “(Y/N) you’re being unreasonable right now. Let’s sleep and talk about this in the morning ?” He tried to reason. “Why should I even listen to you when you didn’t bother listening to me ? I can’t believe how you disrespected me within a matter of minutes. You accused me of being clingy and well I’m obviously not a part of your priorities…so continue having a ball with your friends. I won’t be a bother in your life anymore since it seems I was the problem all along”

“Babe I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-“ he apologised. “Yes, you did. We’re over” I said lastly as I pushed past him to go outside. He continued to follow me but thank God I organised a ride whilst I was packing. “Chérie please come back inside” he said almost crying. I ignored him as I got into the car and was off to my parents' house.

The car ride to my parent’s house I just silently cried. Thank God the driver didn’t bother trying to speak to me because I was obviously not in the mood. I rang up my mum and luckily, she opened up for me. “Sweetheart, what brings you here at this part of the morning. Why didn’t you phone ?” She asked concerned. “Mum, can we talk about this in the morning ?” I said with bloodshot eyes and a tear-stained face.

Since I left, my phone was blowing up with messages from Kylian and even phone calls. I blocked his number but not from WhatsApp, just so I had the satisfaction of leaving him on read. As soon as I got back to my old room, i just felt extremely ill than usual and the next thing i knew was that I was hunched over the toilet. I cleaned myself up before collapsing on my bed and just to my luck I managed to fall off to sleep. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep that long because I was already up 7.

I had a throbbing headache and I’ve never felt so miserable. I haven’t eaten for so many hours, perhaps eating will help. Though the thought of eating left a few seconds later when I ran to hunch over the toilet. What the hell. It then hit me that in the past 3 weeks now I was sick but ignored it thinking it was just hay fever or because I have a low immune system. Though maybe, just maybe, I could be pregnant.

Luckily my parents were still asleep, I rushed over to their car and drove to the nearest pharmacy to get a pregnancy test. As soon as I got home, I rushed over to my bathroom to take the test. Upon taking the test, I paced around my room for 10 minutes before checking the result. My jaw dropped when I saw that the test came back positive. Oh my god.

I didn’t know how to feel. I mean of course I’m happy but ugh I was still upset with Kylian, the thought of us broken up and me carrying his child just triggered my depression.

My train of thought was disrupted when the doorbell rang. It was only 8am and who the hell would come by so early to visit on a Sunday ? I unlocked the door and was face to face with Kylian. “What the hell are you doing here ?” I asked. “I just came to talk” he said softly. “Now is not the time. Please leave” I said as I was about to shut the door on his face. He stopped the door with his foot, “(Y/N) please…just allow me to explain myself” he pleaded.

“Kylian I don’t wanna hear what you have to say, please leave” I rolled my eyes. “I just need a few minutes please chérie” he pouted. Ugh not the pout. “I’m giving you a few minutes and after that I’m done” I warned. He nodded his head and lead the way to his car. I jumped into the passenger side and could feel the tension in the air. “Okay so first of all, I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean anything that I said last night, I wasn’t in my right sense. You were right, my excuses are poor, and I said all of that because I couldn’t admit that I was wrong. Though now I do. You didn’t deserve any of that shit from me. You’ve been nothing but faithful, showing me how much you love and care for me, unfortunately lately I couldn’t do the same” he confessed.

I remained silent and he continued talking. “You’re not clingy at all and you are most definitely my priority” he said. “Well you have a funny way of showing it ! Is this the part where you tell me that you cheated last night ?” I raised a brow. “What ? No ! Babe you know I’d never do that to you” he said hurt. “At this point I feel like I don’t even know you anymore” I sighed. “Don’t say that… you know me so well. I’m really really sorry to let you down last night. I promise it will never happen again, seeing you leave me last night hit me like a bus. You don’t realise how much you miss someone until they’re gone, crying myself to sleep in an empty bed was the worst thing I experienced in years” he sighed. “Now you know how I felt all those nights I waited for you” I said as I felt the tears pool at my eyes once again.

“I know baby, I’m extremely sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Just please come back, I can’t spend another day without you by my side. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you so so much chérie and I mean it” he said as he grabbed the back of my hand and placed a kiss. “I swear if you mess up one more time, me and your baby are leaving” I admitted. I mentally slapped my head.

“Wait. Did you just say baby ?” He asked in shock. “Yes I-“ he cut me off, “When were you going to tell me that we were going to be parents ?” He was stunned. “Ky, I literally found out like 5 minutes ago until you came here unexpectedly” I said. “Oh my…I feel even worse now. How far along are you ?” “About 3 weeks now” I huffed. “I can’t believe I’ve been such an ass this whole time. I’m literally the worst boyfriend” he said as he held his head in his hands. “Ky, if you could admit you were wrong and apologise for it then that’s all that matters to me” I shrugged. He smiled as he cupped by face and was inches away from kissing me.

“Not so fast, you can’t think I’ll go that easy on you now” I tried to say seriously. His jaw dropped. “Oh sorry” he said softly with a pout. After a few seconds I stifled a laugh, “You should’ve seen your face. I’m kidding. Now kiss me because-“ he didn’t even let me complete my sentence before pulling me in for a sweet kiss. Had he shut me up like this last night, we wouldn’t have had this problem in the first place.

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Amber freeman x Fem reader, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: 2k

A/n: the story will follow the events of Scream 5 and 6. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake. Also I use Alycia Debnam Carey as Iris face claim but you all can use whoever you might like

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Reaching Amber's house didn't take them too much time and for Richie to realize which house was it, wasn't that hard either considering a party was going on. This isn't what she thought Amber refered to when she talked about a memorial.

"Perfect, your girlfriend is having a party Iris". Richie sarcastically said. "Completely normal, I mean who has a party in the middle of a killing spree? I'm aborting the plan.

Iris truly hated to admit that Richie was right, who the fuck would have a party right now?

"No, we're already here. I'll go in there quickly and get it. I'll be back in five". Sam opened the door.

"I'm coming too". Iris joined in and so did Tara.

"If you think I'm waiting out here just to get murdered, you're out of your mind".

"Look at you learning so much from the Stab movies. What else did you learn Richard?"

"Iris you're pissing me off, you know that right?".

"Yep love that, too easy bro".

Sam was the first to open the door, revealing flashing lights and a group of teenagers who were clearly drunk. As soon as everyone spotted Tara, they began cheering, and Amber emerged from the crowd to hug her.

"What are you doing out of the hospital?". She asked worriedly. "Should you even be up and around?".

"She needs her spare inhaler". Amber seemed to finally notice Iris's presence and her gaze hardened when she realized that wherever Iris was going, she was going with Tara. The moment lasted for a second before she questioned Tara over where they were going. Tara shooked her head apologetically in response.

"It's fine. Don't tell me, just be safe okay? I think it's in my room".

Amber faced the crowd to announce that the party was over, which was met with boos and expressions of disappointment. The three of them made their way upstairs as they heard Richie shouting to everyone that the party was over.

They walked down another hallway and ended up in Amber's bedroom. She let out a sigh when nothing appeared, leaning back against the door. "Tara you keep looking here, Iris and me are going to look in the other room, okay?" At Tara's hum of agreement, they walked to the room next doors.

Iris started looking for the inhaler but she saw Amber making no move to search for it.

"What are you doing? Not going to look?"

"When were you going to tell me, you were leaving with Tara?". Iris sighed, she realized Amber brought them to this room to talk, not to look for the inhaler.

"When we were already gone".

"I can't believe you had the audacity to leave without even saying goodbye, with her out of everyone". Amber got closer to her pointing a finger at her chest.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean Iris".

"I don't want to leave Amber, but I have no choice". She tried to calm the waters by placing a hand on her girl's cheek, smiling when she was allowed to do so. "I mean look at me darling, i have a black eye, a cut on the lip and trouble walking because I got stabbed on the thigh. My mom is worried this will get me killed".

"You're not going to get killed, I won't allow that". Amber sounded so sure of what she was saying, she almost believed her.

"Well you don't know that. Aside once everything calmed down, I was going to tell you to come with me". Iris smiled cheekily at her. "You didn't seriously think I would leave you behind".

"Well I don't know since you were so ready to leave with Tara". Amber rolled her eyes. "I thought you didn't like her".

"Well we finally solved our issues". Iris locked eyes with her. "It's crazy I hated her for something she didn't even know". She laughed quietly.

"What you mean? You never really told me what happened".

"Remember that letter I wrote? She never read it". She couldn't help but remember Tara's words. "And I never told you but there was an awful text I received from her phone but it turns out it wasn't her either". Amber was staring blankly at her no reaction at all. "Tara has the theory someone did it on purpose". She breathed out. "Insane right?".

"Yeah completely insane". Amber stared directly into her eyes as she said those words.

"Anyways, so we're cool now. Isn't that good? Now we can be the three of us just like we used to". Iris glanced at her hopefully but all she got was a blank stare from Amber which only lasted for a second before she masked it with a smile that seemed entirely too fake.

"Yeah that sounds good". Amber backed away from her touch.

"You don't sound too thrilled at the idea, why?".

"Well after everything with you and Tara..."

Ohhhh. She was worried. Iris quickly grabbed her hand and spun her around so she could hold her in her arms. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Freeman".

At Iris's smirk, Amber tried to wiggle herself out of her arms but she wasn't really trying. "Of course not, that would be ridiculous".

"Okay good, cause I don't care about the past, I only care about the present". Iris leaned forward so that her lips brushed Amber's. "And you are my present. I only want you".

Without a word, their lips collided in a kiss that was both frantic and fervent, a raw surge of emotion and need. Their breaths mingled, and the world around them dissolved into insignificance as their bodies pressed together, seeking solace in each other's embrace. Iris forgot about everything else as the only thing she cared about was the feeling of Amber's body pressed against her. She tilted her head to the side as Amber pushed her into the wall and ran her finger across her jaw, making her shiver under her touch. Amber smirked at the reaction she got from the girl and broke the kiss to reach lower and connect her lips to her neck. She peppered kisses along her jawline before she got to her ear. She bit down her earlobe, making Iris whimper at the feeling.

"You're mine" Amber whispered possesively. “Don't you ever forget that". She planted one more kiss to Iris's lips like she was  savorating the moment. "Cmon, let's go find Tara".

They found Tara in the other room waiting for them with her inhaler. They were heading downstairs to leave when they were startled by shouting and the sound of breaking glass coming from the living room. Tara and Iris looked at each other before the latter rushed to the room, finding Sam pressing a hand on a wound Mindy had in her shoulder. Iris wasted no time rushing to her best friend's side as she started pressing too.

"Mindy stay with me okay? Don't you dare". Iris hissed in fear. She couldn't lose her too.

"That's a lot of blood you guys". Mindy coughed in pain as she noticed the blood coating her shirt. She passed out and Iris started lightly slapping her cheek to keep her awake.

"No Mindy fuck no".

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?". Amber screamed in terror, her gaze flickering frantically between Sam and Iris, as she shouted at the blood coming from Mindy's shirt. Tara stood beside her in her crutches, staring at the scene in complete horror.

Amber got closer to them and she got down to inspect Mindy too. She then took hold of Iris's shoulder to keep her away from Sam.

"No, I didn't do anything, the killer he..." Sam stood up, trying to explain herself.

"Is she okay?".

The sound of beers clattering to the floor made everyone turned their heads towards the sound. "What the fuck?". Richie shakily said as he put his arms up.

"Richie where the fuck were you?"

"I went into the basement to get some beer". Richie shouted, pointing at the bottle shattered on the floor, his shock evident at seeing Mindy hurt in the corner of the room.

"You went to the basement alone?" Amber demanded.

"To get beer? What the fuck Richie?" Iris shouted at him as she tried to wake Mindy up.

"I asked her to come with me! She said no!" Richie replied. Panic erupted as the outside door burst open, and Liv rushed in, her hands smeared with blood.

"Stay the fuck back" Amber yelled pushing Tara and Iris behind her in order to protect them.

"Jesus christ". Liv sobbed as she noticed Mindy passed out on the floor coating in blood.

"I was with Tara and Iris, but the rest of you were wandering around". Amber crazily looked at everyone while pointing her finger at them. "One of you is the fucking killer".

"Fuck you Amber, fuck you". Liv was hyperventilating as she looked at her friends.

"Why is there blood on your hands?". Sam noticed and got into defense mode.

"What?" Liv looked down at her hands, noticing they were full of blood. "I found Chad, and he's..."

"Chad? No you're fucking lying". Iris tried to get close to the girl but Amber stopped her.

"You're the killer". Richie accused her.

"No, I'm not"

"Liv stop". They heard Liv shouting hysterically. "Liv just stop!" Amber said gesturing with her hands.

"Fuck you Amber. I'm not the fucking killer". Liv yelled back at Amber. They didn't know that was going to be the last time they heard Liv's voice.

"I know!" Amber snapped, her eyes rolling in exasperation at the argument and drama. Without hesitation, she pulled a gun from her belt and shot it straight into Liv's head, smirking as everyone gasped in horror at the sudden, shocking turn of events.

"Welcome to act three"

[gallickingun]

May I request a Praise kink! Dom! Mirio x Reader drabble that doesn't use Sunshine as a nickname? (My mom's name is Sunshine and I feel icky about being called it){I'm sorry if this breaks a rule in your ask system but I can't access them from mobile}

a/n: of course! i didn’t do as much size kink with this one and focused more on the praise. i hope you like it! 💕 also when did i become a mirio blog like damn this is so long lol 

tw: praise kink; soft dom!mirio; daddy kink (i’m sO SORRY I CAN’T HELP IT); sub!reader; fingering; oral; kinda a crybaby reader? idk if that’s a tw now, but i did want to just put it here!

ps, reminder that ~drabble requests~ are open! currently accepting for bnha, haikyuu, jujutsu kaisen, a:tla, & dragon ball!

“That’s it,” Mirio’s voice is like honey in your ears, dripping down your spine to pool in your stomach, settling hot and heavy against your insides. He kisses your cheek and leans back on his thighs to watch where his fingers have speared your cunt wide open, “That’s my girl, look at how pretty you are all laid out for me.”

He pauses, and then tilts his head, blue eyes swirling with something akin to frantic worry, “It is just for me, i’nnit baby?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah!” You squeeze your eyes shut so hard it pushes your tears from your ducts, and a moan is ripped from your lungs as his second knuckles push deeper into your swollen lips. When you get your bearings straight, and are able to look him in the eye again, your lower lip is wobbling but you manage to push more words out despite yourself, “J-Just for you, T-Toga-”

Mirio cuts your stuttering sentence short with a warm, firm kiss to your lips. His mouth is searing hot, and your noses bump when he presses too eagerly into you. Your jaw falls slack as his digits piston forward, thick and slick, and nearly rip another orgasm from your belly while his mouth is preoccupied with your bared neck.

You know that there will be dozens of marks littered across your body in the morning, but you don’t have the wherewithal to tell him to quit. Your skin is simmering with a wanton heat, insatiable in your need to have him closer, closer, closer. It’s concerning how no matter how many times he helps you fall apart, you’re still yearning for more. 

He huffs out a breath, releasing the cleft of skin he had captured between his teeth so he can look down at you - breathless and beautiful and begging, still - and that beautiful grin overtakes his features, stretching pink lips to bare beautiful pearlescent teeth. You reach a palm up out of instinct alone, a wobbly elbow barely able to hold you anything close to steady, “I-I love you, Togata, I l-love, I love you.”

Mirio tils his head so he can kiss you on the wrist. Your pulse point stutters underneath his mouth and he revels in the knowledge that only he has the capability to wear you down in such a way that has you pleading for another piece of his soul, as if yours might not be whole without him there to fill the gaps. He sighs, warm breath spilling down the length of your forearm and driving a shiver up your spine.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” his voice is gravelly, like it hurts to push out the words, but he repeats them regardless, this time looking into your glassy eyes so you know he’s telling you the truth. He smiles again, turning so his cheek is pressed fully into your palm, “You’re doing so good, such a good girl. You think you’re ready for me, now?”

The nodding of your head is a mix of frantic and eager, your pupils blown wide as your mouth parts out of lascivious desire alone. His expression softens at your fervor, dimples fading as he shifts his hips so he’s positioned between your knees. Mirio’s knuckles slowly drag out of you, scissored slightly so your precious walls will not be fooled into thinking the onslaught is over. No, it has only just begun; Mirio does nothing in small measures, including the heft that is sported between his hips.

Your little hand reaches forward out of pure need and you can barely wrap your digits around him fully, but that does not stop you from trying. He hums out a laugh that sounds curiously like fondness, and then kisses your knee, pushing it further away so your cunt is butterflied open, lips slightly parted so he can see the depths of your body for himself. You grunt, bent forward at an odd angle so you can watch the sanguine cockhead bulge under your ministrations. Mirio’s chest shakes with a moan, eyelids threatening to slip closed when he feels your soft palm envelope his shaft.

“P-Princess,” he rests his forehead against your knee, hiding his sapphire irises from your gaze. You love the way the nickname tumbles from his lips, so you push the pillow under your shoulder blades to aid in your actions of leaning forward so you can wrap both hands around his dick, thumbing at the veins and the darkened shaft, watching closely as the pre drools from his tip. You lick your lips and Mirio watches your pinkened tongue part your teeth to expose itself and your intentions.

“Please?” you beg, eyes wide and fingers needy. You tongue the air in front of you, the tip of your muscle pointed with the way you flex it, “W-Wanna be good for you, make you feel good!”

His canine tooth catches the corner of his mouth, a flash of pain shown in his bright eyes, but it subsides when he sees how badly you want to prove to him that you could devour him whole if only he’d give you the chance.

“You’re being so good,” he murmurs, dipping his head down to kiss you on the mouth, thumb finding your clit as he sandwiches his thick forearm between your torsos. You mewl, kicking your feet at the newfound jolts of pleasure making their way up your body with each circling of the pad of his finger against that sweet, soft bundle of nerves you keep hidden from everyone but him. Mirio volleys teeth and tongue and lips back and forth with you while you both focus on one another’s sensitive spots, your hands flicking upward against the head of his dick before slowly shifting back down, squeezing him at different points to elicit those salacious moans from the depths of his chest. And his fingerprints drag along the soft folds that are tucked between your hips, never pushing too deep, but reminding you that he’s near and ready whenever you ask to bring forth yet another crashing wave of pleasure if only you just ask him to. 

He nips your lower lip and then kisses the corner of your mouth, blinking slowly so he can look you in the eyes, “Such a perfect little one for me, yeah? You’re so pretty and sweet and soft, fuck you’re soft. These cute lips and that adorable cunt. You’re so wet for me, sweetheart.”

All you can do is nod, words negligible at this point. You know he doesn’t need your assurances anyway. You tilt your chin so you can reach his mouth again, whining against his lips as your wrist angles to drag over the thick head of his cock one last time before you part.

“I want to taste you, Daddy,” your voice is small, mouth pulled into a pout that he pulls back to examine while he stills his fingers against your labia, slick and dripping onto the sheets beneath him. Mirio sighs, his cock twitching at the thought of your delicate mouth wrapped around whatever bit of him you’re able to swallow.

“C’mere,” he turns his body so he’s laid back on the mattress, arm tucked behind his head as he guides you with his free hand against the back of your neck. He thumbs at the skin there, rough fingers nothing but gentle while he handles you. You note each scar on his body as you trail your fingers over his skin, waiting as he settles into the plush down of the mattress. Your head finds his hip, one leg slung over his calf so your cunt is bared to his knee, if you wish to grind down on it. The heel of your hand rests on his thigh, near his balls, and your fingertips ache to reach between the thickest parts of him to touch what is usually hidden to the world, but always bared to you.

“Be careful, baby,” Mirio’s voice is a warning, “don’t hurt yourself.”

Oh, that sounds like a challenge if there ever were one. 

You part your lips and lick at the tip of his cock, drooling with a pearlescent bead of pre, saltine and delectable. Your eyelids shutter closed simultaneously with the moan that shakes Mirio’s entire body. His hand digs deeper into your neck on either side, fingers buzzing with the need to push your precious mouth down until your face is buried into the vee of his hips and your mouth is drooling around his cock. He withholds himself, though, knowing that you need to prove to yourself what you can do with whatever parts of your body you wish to use.

One hand stays wrapped around the base of him, your eyes near crossing as you watch the blushing tip of his cock tremble under your gaze. You look up for his permission, hazy eyes somehow finding him, and you wait for him to nod before you begin to suckle on the head of his dick. The corded muscles of his thighs are shuddering with each bob of your head, his abdomen muscles flexing as he restrains himself from pushing you too far.

“That’s’a good girl,” he grits his teeth with each syllable, tilting his jaw so he can watch your eyes water with how you try to take too much to start. You choke and gag when you attempt to put your nose to his blonde curls, the tip of him brushing your uvula and dragging out your gag reflex. Tears soak your cheeks and drool dribbles down either corner of your mouth, and Mirio has to guide your face away from his cock before you try to go again in spite of your reaction.

After a few more attempts to draw your mouth down to the base of his cock unsuccessfully, Mirio lets out a patronizing chuckle, dragging you by the neck so you won’t continue your assault and make yourself sick. Your thighs latch around his leg, cunt dripping on his knee, begging like a child for him to let you go so you can prove something to him.

“Stop it.”

You blink once, looking him in the eyes, “B-But-”

“What did I say?”

A fresh set of tears stain your cheeks and the sheets, and Mirio gathers you up in his arms and sits forward so you’re tucked against his lap, “Feel that?” He’s talking about the way his cock bobs against your belly, bubbling with arousal and begging to be sheathed inside of you. He noses your cheek, “You did that. All you, baby. With that pretty mouth and those sweet hands. You did such a good job. Such a good girl for me, yeah?” 

You whine, dropping your head to his shoulder but keeping your head lilted so you can look down at his dick, watching as it twitches with every move that you make. You want to reach your hands down to take him between your fingers, to push him over the edge as he’s already done for you three times tonight. You want to give him everything he’s gifted you and so much more.

“I know what you want, honey,” he’s quiet but in the emptiness of your room it feels so loud. Each word sends a shockwave to your core and you shiver at the sound, “W-Want you, Daddy. Just want you.”

“I know, baby,” and this time it is almost sad the way he says it. He takes a deep breath and tilts your head with his thumb beneath your chin, “Let me take care of you, okay? You took such good care of me, now it’s your turn.”

He wordlessly hauls you up by the waist with minimal effort, and looks you in the eyes, “I want you to guide me, okay? I want you to show me where you want me.”

You nod and reach down so your hands are wrapped around the very end of his cock, bobbing your fingers up and down just to milk what’s left of the sweet spurt of pre so his tip is drooling, and then you position his dick so it will split your cunt in two. Slowly, Mirio drops you down, watching your hands fall away so he can get an eyeful of his cock as it spreads your lips and disappears, inch by inch into your sweet, slippery pussy. 

“That’s my girl,” he grunts, allowing you to fall forward so your hands are on his chest, bracing you before you take his entire length up into your stomach. Tears surface on your lids and he’s quick to kiss the corners of your eyes until they’re gone, “Sweet girl, don’t cry. You’re doing so good for me. I can’t wait to fuck this perfect cunt, can’t wait to give you all I’ve got.”

“Want it, Daddy, want it! I-I can take it! P-Promise-” You sob as you try to roll your hips, but his palms are steady against your body, which only makes you more frustrated that he won’t let you show him that you can be a good girl, that you can take his cock and do it well. 

Mirio is a sunbeam incarnate, all light and shine, warmth and something husky that reminds you of a sunny afternoon. So when he speaks, you listen, and you take each of his words and run them through your gummy mind until you’re sure you’ve heard him right.

“I know you can, baby girl,” he rotates your hips with the heels of his palms and you gasp as he spears you wide open, “You can do anything you set your mind to. But let go, and let Daddy take care of you this time, okay?”

Your whimpering is cut short when you feel the head of his cock brush your cervix and whatever comes next you can hardly remember except the sound of his name on your lips and the way he burns you alive only to soothe the ache when it’s all over hours later into the night.

[slasherwhxre]

It's okay to ask a second part of the killers catching feelings? It can still be with the same three if you want.

ofc! I decided to go w/ new faces. both parts of the trio are linked below.

Masterlist

Previously; Ghostface, Myers and Legion [pt. 1] | [pt. 2]

DbD Killers' Reaction to: Catching Feelings for You

|| Characters: Ji-woon Hak, Pyramid Head, Anna the Huntress

words: bout 2k

Ji-woon Hak:

"No! Left!" That was when he had first heard you, unlike the unlucky woman. Claudette was downed quick.

Admittedly, he was annoyed. For a survivor to dare scream someone else's name instead of his, in his trial. The nerve the new survivor had.

His face turned to the pathetic hiding place, if it could even be called that. You were aware that you'd be found soon enough, outing yourself had been a deliberate move. A last good deed, even. Yet, he looked angry? 'I'm making your job easier, dude.' You wanted to say.

The words were left unsaid as the killer stepped forward, walking over Claudette's arm.

Your eyes widened at the smallest things, how would you even react to the painful death Ji-woon had in mind for you? It was fun and too easy to startle you, but it didn't ease his annoyance.

Seeing your face and body clearly as he got closer, though, it did.. something.

Panicking, you backed away from him. His mood had transferred. Ji-woon grinned. Trying to get away, scaredy-cat?

In your clumsiness, you downed the pallet on your side, trapping you both. He almost laughed, until you slid over. You thought you had won when his face fell. But he sneered and walked to the other side. Fuck, I forgot, you hissed but luckily got to it before him. Phew, quick thinking. You breathed out at the successful attempt, feeling a little proud of yourself.

The passage was blocked completely and he was pissed once more. You wouldn't be able to do it had he took less time, looking at the frantic change of your facial expressions. He wanted to do would've done a lot, though.

As his feet moved to break the wooden cover, he saw your gaze behind him. Again? Seriously? The fuck. Why couldn't he get your attention? He cursed and looked behind. Once lying still on the floor, the survivor had healed fast for once. Claudette relaxed visibly for a second, unbeknownst to her watchers. She was thankful for you taking one for the team.

An idea came to his mind. A punishment, more like. For always doing the opposite of what he wanted from you. For not focusing on him when you should have. He'd put on a show for you, make sure you'd be watching him. Sure, the idol only loved himself, but that hadn't stopped him from doing the most for you to see him.

Flying blades hit the unfortunate Claudette one after another.

Protected behind the pallet, you watched as the horrific event took place. He winked as the dead body of your friend hit the ground with a loud thud.

Ji-woon pulled out a photo card from his pocket and threw it on to the corpse, playful eyes never leaving yours. Even with the distance, you flinched when he sent one last blade to pin his face down, the back of his victim.

He smirked, amused by the horror in your face. Just when you feared the worst, though, a luckily timed generator blew up. Ji-woon groaned. He wanted to deal with you, alas he had a job. Glaring at air he turned back and left like nothing happened.

Except he wasn't after the broken machine. Ji-woon needed to locate the hatch, he'd take care of the others after that. He wanted to make sure no survivor could heal you. His plans required privacy, for your screams wouldn't do anymore.

No distractions. Ji-woon wouldn't take less than your undivided attention, and he wasn't going to play nice for it. At least until you devoted yourself to the idol. Hopefully you'd worship him by the time he was done with you, his ego couldn't handle anything else. Either way, letting you walk away unharmed was the least thing he was thinking of.

Pyramid Head:

He feels weirdly protective, as if he isn't supposed to be the one causing pain.

Pyramid is used to the certainty in punishments, that's why he exists after all. It was extremely unlike the paranormal being to pause, but as the 8 feet man looked down at the pitiful figure, everything felt wrong.

You should've been running the other way, not staring up at the intimidating Executioner like a lost puppy. You knew that too, so what about the merciless killer gave you the idea that standing near him would be okay?

He wondered if you'd stare the whole time. It was doubtful he could accomplish his job if your.. fascination (?) went on. Weirdly enough, it wasn't one-sided. You'd touch him had you been more reckless than now. He had a task to do. So why did it interest him?

New survivors were more than frightened at the presence. Maybe it was your naivety that made him feel this way. "You need to be run." If he could talk, he'd say it.

Then you touched his great knife. He looked down as your fingers grazed the rust. What? What was this power you had him on? Maybe it wasn't naivety, but bravery. He had to give it to you, it was nothing like he'd experienced before.

He felt the tension. Were you itching to.. touch him? Your hand had made up its way through The Blight, almost touching his callous hands. And people thought he was strange. Still, he could get used to it and more of it. The initiative woke something in him. That wouldn't be good, for now. He grabbed the side of your waist and moved you to get past.

Hopefully you'd find him after the trial.

Anna (the Huntress):

Deranged humming filled the chilly air as Anna made rounds, looking between tall, ominous trees. She had been isolated for too long. Her crooning was getting more out of tune with each step forward, up until a hoarse caw put a stop to the traditional lullaby.

Her head turned to the target without missing a beat. Faint stretch marks covered the forest ground beyond her. Hands went to her long-range weapons by reflex. The precise hunter took big, self-assured steps towards the root of the sound.

The initiator had been none other than the new survivor. You were foreign to Mother's Dwelling and, in retrospect, most realms. The uncanny darkness didn't help illuminate the unnatural plantation surrounding you. It, however, made the paths identical. The worst issue of all, though, was coming right at you, your steady heartbeat revealed. The rabbit masked killer hadn't spotted the new survivor yet, but she would any second.

She was met with a tear filled face, hiding behind a rotting trunk, numb. The killer in front already had the advantage of her throwing hatchets. This made not running away into straight up choosing death. Why? It addled the woman. She stopped right in her tracks, remembering herself, in the same position, a long time ago. Regardless, the sight reminded her of the pained memory. She was watching a loved one's last moments while you were watching your own.

Heavy pain filled her chest and tears nearly forced out of her hidden eyes. Overcome with fury at her frozen body, Anna made a feral noise. The incomprehensible growl put a pause on your shaking. "Are you.. not going to kill me?" Despite the softly voiced question, you were the most confused you'd ever been since the Fog took you. Why is she mad? Any other monster would've been delighted.

The traumatic event cleared from her vision as she bared her teeth. The animalistic warning worked a little. Your fear stricken form got up in a hurry, putting distance between you immediately. 

Instincts, mind, feet. All were telling you book it. Leave right now, run, escape. Somehow it felt wrong to do, even against the possibility of your temporary demise. "Are you.. okay?"

Under the disguise, deadly eyes widened at the caring words. An inaudible gasp came out her trembling lips.

Some part wanted to express anger at pity while the other wondered why. You had offered your worry. She had more than the power and intention to end lives, including yours. Why? She hadn't grown up with people concerned about her, after all. She hadn't grown up hearing nice things at all, at least not after she was alone. Why? Why? Why? The question repeated in her mind. She couldn't imagine showing kindness to the hunt that teared her apart.

Growing up by herself, only the sounds of the wilderness had filled her tiny ears.

Before long, she got used to it, but loneliness was now as big as her, if not bigger. She wanted to take on the task her mother didn't have the chance to complete. The cries from the little girls she tried so hard to take care of had only showed she was incapable of it. 

She gave up. 

Anna felt fed up. She must've been useless at trying to take care of others, she figured. Madness took over. She started doing the exact opposite. Her experience in trying to survive with the flesh of other habitants of the woods made it come easier. At least she was skillful in hurting people, that's why Entity had chosen her.

Ever since coming here, she had only known two things. The gentle song of her mother. The shrieks and screams that pained survivors let out.

Not you, she hoped. 

She could bring herself to hurt you, possibly. Maybe if she tried.

But you had shown her care, like the one she lost. 

Anna didn't try. 

She turned her back and walked away. 

Perhaps you'd be the only one she'd care for and letting you go would be the start. Mysterious warmth spread her chest at the thought.

tag list: @prettycutebunny

[tteokdoroki]

dick destroyer december | i. midoriya

♡ pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.2K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with no nut november over,  finals complete and christmas right around the corner, your number one boy returns to you with only one thing on his mind.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, mentions of poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ) wall sex, fingering ( female recieving ), light!pet play, spitting, cum play, mentions of sex toys, exhibitionism, oral sex ( male + female recieving ),  light!praise, heavy!breeding kink.

♡ author’s note(s):  merry christmas everyone! i hope despite the circumstances that you’re all able to enjoy the holidays and are staying safe, if you’re not celebrating i wish you a wonderful day as well!! anyways here’s a little festive fic to satisfy you guys and tysm for 2K+ followers <33 find the corresponding kiribaku fic here!

♡ masterlist | requests

ever since you’d started college, your roomate, katsuki had always said that november was his favourite month of the year; it took you a while to figure out why.

having known the blonde since you were a child, you were aware that he despised the cold weather that nipped at his nose and made his quirk slow down. he hated wearing extra sweaters and begrudgingly asking your mother to make him some hot chocolate whenever he came over to play; in fact he hated asking you for it now as adults in your early twenties but as his good college roommate from freshmen year, you made sure he always had a mug waiting. nonetheless,  katsuki’s sudden love for the winter months  and festive weeks following honestly confused you to your wits end— especially with the impending doom of finals sneaking up on you.

however, you quickly found out the reason behind your best friend’s change in attitude towards the month of november, six months into your freshman year relationship with  izuku midoriya.

“no nut november,” katsuki had purred into the neck of his beer bottle, rolling the cool glass against his bottom lip as he laughed at you from across the room. you had recalled the conversation to have occurred exactly half way through october, before the aforementioned month, you and your roommate had decided to host a small gathering with your classmates— purely fulled by thirty boxes of pepperoni pizza and beer, only two of the boxes had been vegetarian for your friends mina ashido and denki kaminari ( he was challenged by mina to go green for an entire month. “that’s why i love this month s’fuckin’ much.” 

bakugou ended his sentence with a swig of his beer, setting the now empty bottle onto the coffee table that had been a house warming gift from his own mom. the sound causes todoroki and sero to jump from their place playing cards against humanity with your girl friend momo on the floor, and kirishima ( bakugou’s crush at the time, who’s drunk and passed out in the blonde’s lap ) to flinch awake. katuski pets his red hair once, making kirishima blink up at him affectionally.

your boyfriend, izuku, fidgets under the intimating stare of your roomie and you can tell he’s fighting the blush that spreads rapidly across his freckled cheeks.  “n-no nut november?” your baby squeaks out, large palm settling on your lower waist as you shuffle to get comfortable in his lap. it’s clear he hasn’t taken part before, so you know exactly what your best friend is doing. trying to tease him in front of all your friends and pull him into something that you’re going to hate. nonetheless, deku downs the rest of his own alcoholic drink as bakugou prepares a response— the rest of your friendship group now pulled into the conversation.

“katsuki bakugou, don’t be mean.” you scold with a bite into your grease laced pizza and offer up the rest to izuku, who politely passes. you pout.

“‘m not, just sayin’— that damn month will be the only time of the year that i don’t get to hear you and the goddamn nerd fuckin’ like rabbits all the time.”

this time, its you who fights an embarrassed look on your face while your green haired lover simply swipes todoroki’s shot from the coffee table and swallows it all at once. the dual haired boy only groans before rising to get another from the kitchen and the rest of your friends hide their giggles in their own drinks, cards and half eaten pizza slices. “you…you can hear us?”  you squeal incredulously, causing your friends to snort out loud again. izuku still says nothing.

“baby, we damn near almost see you whenever we drop by!” kirishima mumbles with sleep curling in his tone, he stretches like a cat on bakugou’s lap and grins at you— sharpened teeth dazzling under the LED lights in your living room. they flicker to a deep green, but you barely notice it.

abandoning your pizza as a whole, you huff and push up the sleeves of izuku’s hoodie that you wear— just about ready to pummel your best friend into the ground for having people over while you…ahem…get some, but shoto returns from the kitchen quicker than you anticipate and cuts right through the chatter with ease, giving you little time to feel flustered by the sudden turn in conversation. “you guys are more sexually active than my parents and they had four kids, messed up with raising us from touya, though,” he says in his iconic monotonous voice, causing you to splutter and katsuki to kick his feet out in victory. “seriously, i doubt midoriya would be able to beat any of us at this no nut  november thing ‘cause of it.”

this time, deku ( as so affectionally nicknamed by your childhood best friend ), pouts, his frustrated voice bleeding into the conversation. “c’mon, don’t you have a little faith in me, shoto?”

“no.” is todoroki’s simple answer. you flinch, did you guys really have sex that often? to the point where no one believed your boyfriend could go a month without getting his dick wet?

“i second that,” kaminari pipes in, picking a mushroom off of his pizza and leaning over to plop it into sero’s mouth.

“third it!” the latter adds.

your roomie takes that and runs with it. “he wouldn’t last a day even if he tried.”

“leave it alone, katsuki.” you find the courage to defend yourself through your flustered state without realising the buzz of beer and vodka shooting through zuku’s veins.

it takes quite a bit to get your boyfriend drunk, he was a big boy after all and played for your college football team but once the drink was through his system he often broke out of his shy demeanour and into one of confidence and challenging your beloved best friend. izuku’s grip on your waist tightens as he leans forward to point accusingly at the blonde before speaking. “wanna fucking bet on it, kacchan?” he says with sparkling emerald eyes and a honeyed voice that makes you twitch in place in his lap. of course you would get horny right in the middle of your two best boys having a drunk argument.

“what’chu say nerd?” bakugou slurs, pushing poor kirishima off of his lap and to the floor in order to stand up and cross the room towards your boyfriend, pointing a finger in his face.

izuku pushes the digit away, smirking up at the blonde drunkenly and everyone’s gaze in the room suddenly falls on them. “i bet that i can last longer in no nut november than you.”

you whimper from your lover’s lap, knowing that as soon as everyone clears out you’re going to pounce on him before this stupid bet takes place. this doesn’t go unnoticed by the girls, momo and mina, who tease you for having such a high libido but you don’t think they’ll understand how much you’re going to suffer without your broccoli haired boyfriend’s dick every other night. 

you love izuku and katsuki, you really do— but its times like this, for the sake of your sex drive and love life, that you really wish they’d got along more. maybe it was their little battle for your affection that caused the rift between the two, after all katsuki had been the only boy in your life up until college and izuku, you were pretty sure was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…either way, their rivalry was getting in your way and was about to be a major cockblock for the next thirty days. “hold up you guys, don’t i get a say in this?” your voice comes out in a slight whine as you tug on midoriya’s fitted shirt, but he’s too busy having a stare off with your roommate to notice. “what about me and my needs?”

“it’s not about’cha, shitty girl.”

“stay out of this, yn.”

you huff, pushing yourself off of your boyfriend izuku’s lap to stand and smack the pair of losers upside their heads before joining your girls on the floor. mina pulls you into a comforting hug, trying to distract your mind from the fact that it’ll be deku dick-less for a month while momo serves you out a set of cards to join her in a game of cards against humanity with the other boys lounging on the floor— kirihsima is invited into the game too. “sounds like i’ll be getting you a dildo as an early christmas present!” ashido comments, swiping her deck off of your hand me down rug before anyone can see them.

momo grins at you while you take your cards and take another shot from poor, unsuspecting shoto. “better make it extra thick, we know he’s got a nice one on him, yn.”

“fuck you guys.”

“gladly, we’re not taking part of no nut november like those two idiots.” the black haired girl hums, shuffling in her seat to start the next round. you roll your eyes and turn your gaze to watch the green and blonde haired boys you adore so much fight over this trivial guys only event.

their cheeks are flushed from all the beer they’ve drunk and they’re leaning on each other for support, but that doesn’t stop them from going at each other. “you couldn’t beat me, even if you tried, shitty deku.” katsuki mumbles, arm around midoriya’s head— forcing the poor boy into bakugou’s large pecs. “haha...shitku…”

“oh try me, bitch.” your boyfriend counters, voice so husky it sends shivers down your spine, although it contrasts deeply with the sight of his adorable cheeks pressed against katsuki’s tits.

they’re too drunk to brawl it out and quite frankly you’re too tired to bother to stop them, mind only wondering how you plan to survive the next thirty days.

three years, three novembers and a few weeks into december later; you’re still wondering how the hell you’ve survived.

ever since that night in your freshman year; izuku, bakugou and the other boys have competed vigorously to last throughout the entirety of no nut november; your boyfriend having won the last three years in a row. katsuki hated it, losing to your izuku but he hated the victory sex you gave him even more. 

you’d think he’d be used to it by now, with everyone in their final year of college but bakugou had manage to luck out this year on not hearing you and midoriya go round after round on november thirtieth. finals had hit you guys hard in terms of wrapping up the semester before christmas; they were important to pass too, considering you’d all be graduating within a few months, so you’d barely seen izuku since november ended and december rolled around.

now, being a couple weeks into the festive month and with finals drawing to a close— you had yet to make plans to see your boyfriend. there was little time between the online classes and preparation from the holidays, yet you could feel yourself growing more sexually frustrated by the second. rubbing one out wasn’t doing it for you anymore and listening katsuki’s bragging about his peaceful nights of sleep while you decorated your apartment with mistletoe and tinsel was really starting to tick you off.

the very decoration slips from between your fingers as bakugou walks in, yanking bits of tape from his fingers from where you had him lining the ceiling rails with gold, green and red tinsel. the blonde had only gone and slammed the door to your living room against the wall, grumbling about the stupid mess of clear tape across his clumsy fingers— the action scaring you half to death before you huff, facing him. “what, katsuki? what could you possibly need right now?”

his vermillion gaze picks up from his smoking palms,  a last resort to getting rid of the tape. “came to tell ya that ‘m headin’ out with kirishima— going to pick up our girlfriend from the airport.” a sweet blush lays loosely against your best friend’s cheeks at his admission, not long after you guys’ drunken night in freshman year, bakugou had confessed to your red headed companion; only to find out he had a girlfriend waiting for him in his hometown. 

kirishima wasn’t a cheater, but he also couldn’t help the flutter in his heart around bakugou— so had the two meet straight away and after a lot of tears and large dramatics, the three settled into a cute little relationship. you’d only met the girl once when she visited both boys for spring break— but you’d loved her and knew how much she made your best friend happy.

you smile nonetheless, picking the mistletoe up from the floor. “tell her i said hi, yeah?” you mention to your friend while he shrugs on a jacket and checks himself in the mirror. katsuki was in love, and it was insanely adorable to see. “do i need to set up the guest bedroom for her ’n kiri?”

“nah, shitty red head kicked out kami, he’s staying with sero and mina while my girl’s up.” katsuki shakes his head, letting you fix the collar of his jacket after you bound over to him. “we’ll be back after lunch to pick up some of my stuff though. so don’t do anything fuckin’ stupid and i’ll see you later, yeah?”

you cross a finger over your heart but the mischievous smile on your face gives you away. “no promises katsu, stay safe out there!”

your smile drops however, as soon as your roommate closes the door behind him, knowing him and kirishima, they’ll probably fuck their girl across all the surfaces in eijirou’s free apartment, which only makes your stomach churn with hot jealously and a hint of arousal. 

selfish of you as it were, you wish your boyfriend hadn’t chosen such an intense subject with so many finals and intense studying— but izuku loved engineering almost as much as he loved you, so its not like you would ask him to give up his passion.

besides, you figured he’d look pretty hot in his mechanics classes—sleeves rolled up to his elbows, scared hands on display while sweat drips down his furrowed brow and—

and fuck me, now you were as horny as a mother fucker.

a familiar ache appears between your thighs while you attempt to busy yourself with the rest of the festive decorations; you hang a wreathe at the door both inside and out, tape the remaining tinsel around counters in your kitchen and finally attempt to fix the christmas tree katsuki insisted wasn’t lopsided ( even though it was ). but no matter how hard you worked om christmas-ing the apartment, you couldn’t shake the fantasy of midoriya railing you against his work bench. it wouldn’t go away.

patting your cheeks to calm your hot flush; you decide that you’re done bedazzling and fix some christmas lights above your doorways to go with your LED ones, and get ready to take a cold shower and hoping that the wetness between your legs will go away. you make a  b-line for the bathroom, not bothering to bring a spare change of clothes since katsuki isn’t home. it’s not like he hasn’t seen you naked before.

you’re half way through your commute, wearing nothing but one of zuku’s old shirts when the front door jingles and busts open from the other side of your home. foot steps pound against your hardwood floor, letting you know someone is approaching.

“fucking hell katsuki, stop slamming the door against the wall before you make another—“ your words die in the back of your throat when your sweet little boyfriend comes into view. albeit a bit dishevelled, deku’s green hair falls prettily over his excited eyes while sweat rolls in tiny droplets from his forehead to his chin and his backpack hanging half off of his shoulder…in all honesty he looks a mess, but a good looking one at that. “zuku? what are you doing here?”

your lover looks bewildered, but a smile that fills you with warmth crosses his face. “i ran across campus to see you; i finished my finals…” he pants, the engineering building is pretty far from here so no wonder he looks the way he does.

despite knowing this, you quirk a brow. “still doesn’t answer my question babe.”

“november is over,” izuku sighs, dropping his backpack and crossing the room towards you in three short strides. When he reaches you, scarred hands curl around your waist while soft lips tickle the shell of your ear with deku’s next words. “it’s christmas…don’t make me wait. i want to fuck you.”

you don’t miss the way bight green eyes darken and drag up your hand naked body, your boyfriend’s shirt ending just above your knees and exposing the meat of your thighs to him. the wetness pools between them, making your skin glisten under familiar flashing LED lights and tinsel. izuku is waiting for a. sign...anything for you to give him consent to take his prize between your legs, electricity crackles in the air and you instinctively reach up to curl your fingers in his curls. “fuck me, izuku.” you say breathlessly, unleashing a month and a half’s worth of hormones out onto each other. “fuck me like you mean it, big boy.”

the teasing lilt to your voice earns you a spank to the ass as deku lifts you up into his arms and over his muscular shoulder. you squeal in delight at the harsh sting, leaning down to pat his ass too. he’s got a particularly nice one and you’re sure it was carved by the fucking gods. 

the green haired boy hauls you over to the kitchen counter, setting you down atop it before his lips find yours in passionate and hurried movements. its been so long since you’ve kissed him, felt his muscles ripple under your touch while your hand roams his chest underneath the varsity jacket he wears.

you push the offending material off while izuku trails a hand between your thighs, chuckling into the kiss at the slick that adds a glimmer to your skin. his pink tongue darts out to lick a stripe across your bottom lip, begging for permission to enter your hot mouth. you grant him access, swirling your own pink muscle around is and suck it down. your breath hitches as thick fingers finally come into contact with the burn of your heat, gently prodding at your puffy, sticky clit. “you’re…doll, you’re so fucking wet already. did you miss me?” your boy moans breathlessly in between your sloppy kisses, pulling away to show you the string of your slick that coats his fingers. you nod in agreement.

izuku taps your lips once and you obediently take the digits into your mouth, humming at your sweetness that invades your tongue, all the while, his other wandering hand shoves two digits into your wet cunt with no warning— making you shiver on the counter while the tinsel you’d taped there scratches at your calves. both sets of fingers thrust into your openings at the same time, giving you a friction you so awfully desire.

“such a good girl, dollface— fuck, i f-forgot how good you looked sucking on my fingers like that.” midoriya whines out and you’re not sure which of your holes he’s referring to, but you couldn’t care less, not when those that stuff your tight pussy are curling against the walls in a way that has you leaking sweet nectar all over your marble surfaces. you gush at his praise however, bucking your hips into his hand while the heel of his palm grinds into your swollen clit— sending shockwaves through your body.

the fingers that plug your mouth are pulled out so the darling sounds of your moans mingle with that of your dripping heat, walls clenching around izuku every once on a while. your lover grinds against the table, watching you with close eyes as your face contorts into expressions that he’s missed so dearly. one thrust into your spongy g-spot makes your body jump and thighs close around your boyfriend’s hand— head falling forward against his shoulder. “mnn, zuzu... haven’t felt this good in s’long, gonna cum, gonna mess up your hand.”

to your dismay, deku pulls from your cunt faster than you would have liked and you whine at the empty feeling in your stretched out hole. your heat makes an awful dripping sound when you’re fully empty, and you grunt knowing that its a mess you’ll have to clean up later. 

however, you’re easily distracted by the lips at your collar bones, painting bruises into your sweat licked skin while slick hands paw at your breasts. “cum on my face first, please?” its cute how desperate izuku is, but you can’t say that you aren’t either— especially when you haven’t fucked in so long.

“yes, god yes…” you accept too quickly while your shirt is pulled off completely; for midoriya’s mouth as moved from pressing hot kisses to your neck onto biting at your breast and rolling the hardened nipple of your other with his free hand. “but, wanna suck you off too ‘zuku…”

your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate with his next movements, kicking off his pants and boxers ( in one go, mind you ) before  picking you up once again and sinking to the floor with you in his arms. he makes quick work of flipping you onto your tummy, pulsing cunny shoved so close into his face that you can feel deku’s nose bump your clit when he breathes and then;  your face rests so easily on the swell of his thigh— right next to his hardened cock that you’ve missed so much.

izuku midoriya is a god and you swear by it.

your friend’s were right, he is packing. he’s thick and girthy, tip angry and red as it leaks heavily with a clear precum that has you drooling. “missed your dick, zu,“ you sigh, mostly to yourself and before you know it, your lips enclose around the head of his cock.

the way you suck on it, as if you’ve been starved of your last meal makes izuku shiver with pleasure and his nails dig into your peachy ass. you roll his balls between your fingers, loving the delicious whimpers you manage to lure from between your boy’s lips and the sound makes your pussy spasm around nothing.

a weighted palm moves to the back of your head in order to push you further down on his cock, deku’s own hips bucking up so you swallow more of him down. the taste of him is dangerously addictive, saltiness dancing across your tongue. “suck my dick sweetheart, yeah? suck on it just like that, good girl.” the hot breath from each of his choked laments brushes against your eager cunt, dampening your skin even more. he dives right in, tongue slithering between your puffy folds while he slurps at you with at  insatiable place. 

izuku craves to make you feel nothing but ecstasy, working his pink muscle hard against your walls that clamp down on his tongue while yours runs laps between the dribbling tip of his iron hot length. inhaling sharply, you force yourself to take more of deku down your throat, listening out for the tears that sting in his emerald eyes wen you swallow around him. You hum with sweet victory when his breathing stutters and hips jump up with excitement.

you’re both close, sensitive from the time you’ve spent away from one another, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care. the room rises with temperature at every step you take towards orgasm, deku taking your cheeks in large, calloused palms and spreading you apart to spit directly into your hole. you swear on your life you’d never known pleasure until you’d met izuku, as no matter how much time you’d been apart, he still knew all the little tips and tricks to get you going. where to hold you, how to touch you, what to say. he was always so focused on making you feel good.

your head bobs up and down with an inconsistent pace, each time, your tongue mapping out the veins on his girth that you’d come to know so well, hand’s fisting at balls and the rest of his cock that you can’t reach.

“i’m gonna…doll—puppy, i’m gonna cream in that mouth of yours… please,” a strangled cry. “i-is that okay?”

you tap his thigh once, your own little signal to let your boyfriend know it’s okay before continuing your work— letting drool pool in your mouth before spewing it onto his cock. deku pulls his tongue from inside of you, flicking it rapidly at your clit to bring you closer and closer to the edge, not wanting to cum without you. and he doesn’t, the cord that’s built up in your stomach finally snapping.

white flashes behind your eyes as you gush all over izuku’s face, drenching his freckled cheeks and painting his innocence with a layer of your honeyed sin. Your lover follows shortly after, filling your mouth to the brim with a heavy load that tastes of him and only him. a taste that you could fall in love with every single day. “baby,”  you giggle after letting go of his cock with a satisfying ‘pop’, heat spreading beneath your skin as you take note of the slight shine to the green haired student’s face. “think you made me squirt!”

“guess i did! you’re always so cute when you squirt for me, yn,” and like the messy boy he is, midoriya wipes his mouth on the back of his hand ( always a poor eater, couldn’t keep his meal in one peace ) before peeking at you from over your quivering and arched back. izuku smiles proudly at his handy-work of your messy cunt, radiating a billion rays of sunshine and your heart clenches in your chest. you hate how cute he looks when you’re in such a lewd and compromising position, like he hadn’t just fucked you dumb under the mistletoe. “should’ve been on my dick ’n not m-my tongue though...”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to another round, if you aren’t.”

“like hell i could say no to being inside you after a whole month of waiting, doll.”

you roll your eyes, but wiggle your hips back into your boyfriend’s face nonetheless. “then dick me down deku, destroy me.”

with your boyfriend’s help, you manage to crawl off of his lap and wait patiently on your knees as he stands. izuku beams down at you, a hundred and one words of love written in his eyes that glow warmly under christmas lights before he pets your head and reaches for your hands to help you stand on shaky legs.

the first kiss you share after this is gentle and sweet, even while your tangled fingers are set free and deku’s large hands are once again on your waist, rubbing small circles into the skin of your hips as he backs you into the nearest wall. you simper at the taste of yourself on his tongue and allow him to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs— locking your ankles at the centre of his back and just above bis bum— all the while keeping you pressed against the wall.

the outline of izuku’s length presses hotly against your weeping slit, his lips still slotted against yours in a slow liplock while his tip smears the remains of his seed across your clit and between your folds. you feel your boyfriend’s arms quiver around you as he slowly begins to sheath himself within your spamming pussy— jolting away from his lips, your mouth falls open in a weak moan and the green eyed boy quickly follows you, copying the movement of your lips as his sweaty forehead meets your own and your gazes align sweetly. “doll…” he mumbles brokenly, letting you adjust to the push of his cock against your walls. “been so long since i felt you like this…”

your fingertips reach out and graze his shoulders, hot breath fanning out between your bodies as izuku’s cock reaches the hilt inside of you. he stills. “move baby, can’t wait anymore— “

izuku midoriya doesn’t need to be told twice when it comes to fucking you; finally making the move to bottom out inside of your pussy. heat blossoms in your heart and your glistening mound as your lover gently rolls his hips against yours and the way he feels reminds you that your mind, body and soul belong to him and him only.

although you are finally together, moving as one against the wall in your shitty college apartment, you crave for izuku to fill you to the brim and reach up to tug at mossy locks in order to bring him impossibly closer.

you don’t dare close your eyes as deku sets the pace, not even as your gaze on him flutters, you want the image of his blushed and blissed out face imprinted to into the back of your mind forever, you want the sounds of struggled whimpers and skin slapping against skin to become the tune of your memories. you want your senses to be filled with him always and forever as make love against tinselled ceiling rails and mistletoe above your heads. all you can think is more, more, more. more of him, more of izuku.

“focus on me, puppy,” izuku reminds you, grinding his pelvis against you every time his hips canter into you. his cock grazes the entrance of your womb, leaking into you like a cocktail of your arousals. but the neediness behind his words makes you blink away the glassiness in your eyes, locking your arms and legs around him tighter and grinding your hips down to meet the drive of his cock into your spongy g-spot. “your cute lil hole’s still so tight, nice ’n moulded into the shape of my cock— made to take me, right?” your boy babbles, tripping over his sentences through the saliva on his tongue.

the feeling has you stirring against your boyfriend’s length, his now rapid pace sending your teary eyes rolling and you mewling. “made for you ’n only you ‘zu, please don’ stop…” is all you can say, mind breaking as midoriya’s hands drop between your joined bodies to draw lazy shapes into your puffy nub, the movements silky due to the mild mix of juices coating your sexes.

each thrust from your lover sends you a little bit up the wall, head of his cock catching tastefully along the ridges of your velvety walls— the way your pussy feels inside drives izuku to the brink of insanity, you’ve always been able to take him so well and he missed the way your cute face curled into expressions of desire all for him. you’re so pretty, so intoxicating and he’s so happy to have you back in his arms.

“s-such a good girl for me, yn…fucking hell puppy,” izuku punctuates each of his toe curling thrusts with stuttered cries of your name, angling his hips upwards to hit your g-spot over and over. everything feels so sloppy, tainted with signs of your love but as the knot in your stomach begins to unravel, you couldn’t care less. “gonna make you mine, gonna fill you up and make you my fucking puppy.”

“’m already yours, always will be zuku,” you manage to speak, clenching down on him and letting out an almost pornographic moan as deku drills into you with the last of his strength.

he nods against your foreheads that remain pressed together, staring at you with adoration written across his seafood eyes. “love you, doll…love you s’much, you did so well baby…cum for me now…” izuku mumbles out, hissing slightly as your grip on his hair tightens to yank him down for one final searing kiss.

tears of heavenly pleasure roll down your cheeks as he swallows your final moan, his words pushing you right over the edge and into an earth shattering orgasm. “c-cumming!” you squeal so loud that you’re sure the neighbours can hear, while you lose control and pulse around midoriya’s scalding cock. the world of colour flashes behind your eyes— release splattering out against your boyfriend’s pelvis and the floor. “mnnn, izuku! i love you, please…”

you’re begging now, your sloppy pussy coaxing him along to his own release while deku relentlessly fucks into you. his chest rumbles with every one of his whimpers and groans, cock pushing you into overstimulation while he snaps his hips into you.

“ohh i love you…gonna cum, gonna cum— fuck, puppy—!” he sobs pathetically, dropping his head to your neck as his teeth clamp down on your bare skin to silence himsel. your tired body is forced up the wall while izuku tumbles into his own orgasm, sweltering seed splashing up inside your abused cunt. he slows to a grind, creaming inside you and painting your insides white as snow— panting with you until your breathing calms down.

the pair of you sink to the floor again, still in one another’s embrace as exhaustion sweeps over your limbs. before you know it, izuku is giggling sweetly against your lips, pressing grateful kisses along your neck and jaw while you fiddle with his baby hairs on the nape of his neck— still trying to catch your breath.

“t-that,” he sighs, nothing but love and adoration cushioning his gaze on you as you settle in his lap. you squirm at feeling so full, his cum dripping out of your fluttering hole but find yourself getting comfortable soon after. “that was so good, i missed you, yn, really.”

you cup the boy’s freckled cheeks and hum, heart swelling at his slight confession. “i missed you more zuku, all of you, not just your dick.” you clarify your words, making light of the mess you’ve made.

izuku rolls his eyes but leans into your gentle touch nonetheless, faking a pout in order to get a kiss on the lips. “glad to know that my girlfriend still loves me, even when she’s been deprived of my godly cock for a month and a half.”

“i’ll always love you.” you say, leaning in to give him a slight peck on the lips.

“as will i.”

you both tilt your heads to complete the vow with a simple kiss when a cough cuts through the love filled atmosphere, making you and izuku jump right out of your skin. Immediately, your gaze scopes out the room, only to land on your child hood best friend— accompanied by both his girlfriend and boyfriend. fuck, you completely forgot about that.

“are you two done now?” katsuki drawls, still tucked into his winter jacket, while krishima covers his girlfriend’s eyes with a free hand, the other occupied by her luggage from her flight. she still offers you an awkward smile and a wave.

“k-kacchan! haven’t you ever heard of knocking?” deku squeaks, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into his chest and at least protect some of your decency. it’s nothing bakugou nor kirishima haven’t sen before ( it’s not the first time you’ve been caught like this ) but you allow yourself to fall into izuku’s protective embrace anyways— heated embarrassment prickling underneath your skin.

your blonde roommate, however, is livid— staring you down with bloody eyes that speak tales of murder. “knock? knock? i fucking live here, you shitty nerd!” bakugou scolds, making you flinch and offer him a weak smile. eijirou by now has the decency to escort his girlfriend into his other partner’s room to gather some of his belongings, effectively leaving you and your boyfriend to face the wrath of your favourite angry pomeranian. the blonde turns to you. “and i thought i told you not to do anythin’ fuckin’ stupid while i was gone?”

“don’t yell at me! i didn’t know izuku was coming… literally and figuratively!” both boys groan at this, making you scowl. what? it was a good joke! “besides, i was just congratulating my boyfriend for winning no nut november, again. you should be used to it by now, suki.”

katuski looks between you both, annoyance sweeping his face before he pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. “couldn’t you congratulate him somewhere else? somewhere, where i didn’t have to be blinded and traumatised for the rest of my shitty life.”

this time, it’s your boyfriend who speaks up, standing with you in his arms. deku smirks evilly, pointing to the little green plant above your heads. “no can do kacchan, it’s dick destroyer december and there was no better way to start it, than under the mistletoe.”

izuku turns swiftly on his heel and makes a dash towards your bedroom before your best friend can threaten to blow you up, presumably to fuck you in your bed for this next round.

“fuck you guys!” he curses you out, watching you go.

“we’re already on it, have a great christmas, katsuki!” you sing back, just a deku slams your door shut and drops you onto your bed—  already crawling on top of you.

you’d have to thank katsuki someday for challenging izuku back in freshman year, because without his newfound love for november— you wouldn’t have discovered your guilty pleasure for dick destroyer december.

[oumaheroes]

hmmmm drabble promptsss

ok so:

1) Wales and Scotland + disaster road trip (either nationverse or AU)

2) New Zealand and England + parenting

3) France + museums

:D

Cake ask 1

Cake ask 2

And now, finally, Cake ask 3:

Word Count: 2K

Characters: England, France/ FrUK

Gold Filigree to Chainmail

‘And you keep trying to tell me that you’re not vain.’

At the sound of England’s voice, France looked up from the display case he was inspecting of a solid silver hair brush and vanity set once belonging to a noble lady long since forgotten.

(France remembered. Lise, her name was Lise. She had four children, laughed like a braying donkey and had died at forty-one).

England had wandered further away from where France had last seen him amongst the crowds, happily analysing a collection of porcelain figures as if they had personally offended him. Now, he was inspecting a large painting of a dinner scene from the fifteen hundreds and scowling at one of the diners in the far bottom hand corner- a young man dressed in fine, rich clothing and leaning languidly in his chair.

‘I’m not entirely vain.’

‘We could have been doing many things today but instead we are here, admiring you.’

‘We are not admiring me,’ France told him, coming up alongside, ‘Just my people.’

England gestured at the painting with his head, ‘That’s you.’

The diner in question was in profile but it was easy enough to tell, from those who knew him well, that it was France himself. A habitual way of draping himself on a chair and the same loose, wavy hair as today. Half grin unchanged, a connection through time via the almost direct look at the painter through the fourth wall.

He looked so much younger.

France smiled fondly, ‘Ah, so it is.’

England snorted and shook his head, ‘You already knew that.’

France pulled a surprised face, ‘Did I?’

‘Yes.’

‘I did not.’

‘I fail to be convinced.’

‘That sounds like a problem with yourself, my dear.’

England didn’t answer, only continued to gaze at the painted version of France seriously.

‘Admiring me after all, are you?’ France nudged his shoulder against England’s, prompting him to loosen his hands from where they were hiding in his coat pockets only to swat France away.

‘Not a chance.’

England stepped back to suddenly to walk away and then into the next room. France followed him, skirting around a gaggle of tourists who refused to part for him.

It wasn’t an impressive museum. Nothing large or fancy about it at all compared to some that France could boast about but it was surprisingly thorough nonetheless. Especially considering that it was in a small, coastal town. The town’s history made up the bulk of the displays but there were other artefacts and exhibits there from neighbouring towns and regions- the age-old borrowing and swapping of local stories.

Through an arch of stone and into the new exhibit, England immediately made for the paintings covering the walls, stopping to gaze up at them and rove his eyes about the canvas with an inscrutable expression.

‘Looking for me?’

‘Hmm.’

England tilted his head slightly to one side; the sharp cut of his jaw made all the more apparent. There was a bite on his collarbone that France knew was there, put there by himself and carefully hidden under his clothes.

‘Do you do that on purpose?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘Put yourself in paintings.’

France shrugged, turning back to the work in question. He wasn’t in this one but he didn’t want to stop England from looking, ‘Not intentionally. I have known a lot of artists over the years and occasionally they’ve asked me to sit for them. I’m never sure exactly where I’ll end up, in some cases it’s only sketches. Sometimes, nowhere at all.’

England made a small noise in the back of his throat to acknowledge the reply but didn’t say anything more, continuing to take in the busy scene. This one was a landscape of his southern countryside: purple fields of lavender and brilliantly blue sky. People dotted the path running through it all like wayward flowers.

‘Do you not?’ France asked him.

‘What? Sit for paintings?’

‘Yes. Or artists.’

‘No.’

‘Never?’

England considered this, ‘Not intentionally. I know I’m in a few as part of the background but I’ve never intended to be.’

‘You’re missing out.’

‘I can’t see how.’

France looked his arm through England’s and began to lead him away, ‘Oh, you know, it’s theprocess itself. To be seen like that. To have someone look at you and see you for your individual parts- your eyes, their shape. How your mouth sits when it’s relaxed, the way light looks on your skin. Your colours and tones. Like carving you out of marble bit by bit.’

England tutted, ‘I again remind you that you keep trying to convince me that you’re not vain.’

‘It’s not vanity,’ France insisted, ‘It is art. It is. It is not only for beauty, although admittedly that is a huge part. But even beauty is subjective to the artist and to be captured in such a raw way is a very liberating feeling, even if you don’t agree with or like the end result.’

‘All the more for you than me.’ England stopped their progress to look into a display case of jewellery: old and once well-loved pieces polished to an almost forgotten shine. They looked fake now, after so many years and decades of accessories minimising and dulling- vibrant colours and elaborate designs now reduced to mere fine gold chains about necks or delicate, slim rings on fingers. Plain linen instead of painstaking lace, quick zips instead of expensive, fiddly pearl buttons.

France couldn’t didn’t even know what he himself preferred anymore. Would he ever wear his own old things again?

‘It is not just for art though, or beauty.’ France continued, noting that England had kept a hold of his arm even as he bent down to get a closer look, ‘It is also about being captured and placed in time- a record of your presence in the world.’

‘We have left more than enough of that already,’ England muttered.

‘You know that’s not what I mean.’ France folded down a lapel on England’s coat that had curled upwards, ‘You take a lot of photos now, do you not? I’m assuming to remember the moment.’

England made a noncommittal noise, ‘More for the children than myself.’

‘And you draw or paint yourself sometimes. Or, you used to.’

‘Yes, as a hobby.’

‘But also, to remember what you had seen. You haven’t done anything abstract, to my knowledge.’

‘I suppose.’

‘Would you not have liked more likenesses of yourself throughout time?’

England shrugged, ‘Not much I can do about it now, is there. We can’t get those times back and there’s no point in mourning for them.’

He straightened up fully, gazing about the room for something else to catch his attention and France moved to quickly kiss the side of his neck and whisper in his ear, ‘I could paint you.’

England’s cheeks burned and he dropped their arms, stepping away to give himself a respectable distance, ‘Not a fucking chance.’

An older woman who had also been gazing longingly at the same display next to them looked up startled and quickly shuffled off.

France grinned, ‘Oh Arthur, you didn’t think I meant dirty things, did you?’

England scowled, blush creeping down his neck, ‘Only through sad and unfortunate repeated exposure to you.’

‘Well, I didn’t mean that. I was proposing something entirely child friendly.’

‘Of course. Still no.’

‘It doesn’t have to be about now either. I could paint what I remember of you.’

England gave a sudden laugh, ‘That’s even worse. Lord knows how I’ll turn out but your interpretation will hardly be accurate.’

‘Or are you worried that it will?’

England’s face fell, expression closing and France immediately recognised that he had gone too far.

‘Of course not,’ England said, hands back in his pockets, ‘Do as you will, I can’t stop you.’

France pressed his tongue against the back of his top teeth, biting at it gently, ‘No no,’ he said eventually, ‘It’s not the same if you don’t agree. Your irritation will mar the paint and my handiwork, even if you’re not there to spoil it physically.’

England looked suspicious, ‘I’m surprised you’ve not already done one.’

France had at least seven. All tucked away in different places, only coming out when France felt nostalgic. Two full bodies, about a few centuries apart, and five portraits. England unaware, face open and unguarded enough to let physical youth bleed over and hide him.

‘Never. You’re not a very good muse. You don’t inspire much in me.’

England shook his head and huffed, seemingly satisfied with that answer, ‘Maybe you’re not a very good painter.’

‘We both know that’s not true.’ France reached out for his arm again and, despite a slight stiff reluctance and his hands still in his pockets, England let him slip his arm through his elbow once more, ‘Come on, I read that there are some weapons in the next wing which I’m sure your brutish personality will find much more appealing.’

England allowed himself to be led onwards, a suspiciously quiet hostage as he and France moved to a lower floor. The first display was that of some longswords, fanned out like a metal peacock’s tail.

‘Here we are,’ France said, releasing him, ‘a more familiar record of our presence on this planet.’

 England appeared to chew the inside of his cheek, regarding the swords passively.

‘I’m in some journals,’ he said, eventually, ‘A few poems too. I’ve only ever found them by accident.’

‘And you’re sure they’re about you?’

England gave a quick small, silly smile, ‘The ones I recognise.’

‘Trust you to prefer that, of all things. And you call me vain.’

England rolled his eyes, ‘It’s different. Those are people’s memories of me, or their perception. Nothing at all to do with my outward appearance.’

‘It is still vanity to be pleased with how oneself is seen,’ France walked around behind him to go further into the room, ‘Regardless of what is captured.’

‘If you say so.’

Ahead was a small armoury, the painted brick walls canvassed by metal spears and shields, and glass cases keeping ancient bullets and arrows and daggers like ancient coins.

The two sides of them, France thought as he stopped amongst it all to wait for England to catch up. A constant swing between soft and steel depending on what they chose to show. Depending on what one searched to find and chose to remember.

Soft silk trousers, carefully stitched shirts. Aching arms and heavy swords, the stale sweat and dried blood that collected under unforgiving armour. Eiderdown and bruises, gold filigree to chainmail.

‘Francis. This is a terrible display. Good lord, a toddler could have dated these better.’

‘Arthur, leave it.'

'But-'

'I am not going back over there.’

---

AN:

So, nearly a year after she originally sent them, the trio of fantastic Cake prompts has finally been filled 😭

These were amazing suggestions Cake, I hope you've enjoyed them despite the wait!

Thank you everyone else for reading ❤️

P.S., the inspiration for France’s love of being in paintings comes from @thedisappointedidealist12 , who made this wonderful comic that I adore

[harley-sunday]

omg congrats!!! got a little Drabble idea for you 👀 perhaps you went to school with dan and you’ve finally reconnected with him when he’s home on break

A little drabble, sweets?

Yeah. No. I can totally do that. I can totally just write a quick little drabble and not turn it into 2k worth of angst that's also sort of hopeful but doesn't have my usual happy ending epilogue. No problem. No problem at all...😐

Seriously though, thank you for this idea. I hope you like what I came up with 😊

🧡

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (Dan's POV) Warnings: language Word count: 2k AN: Please don't hate me.

Michael makes him go. 

Daniel doesn’t really care about it. Doesn’t really feel like this is something he has to be at. Doesn’t really feel like showing up to his fifteen-year high school reunion just so he can be the centre of attention all night. Which is- It’s weird. And so unlike him. He’s very aware of that. During the season he loves to have all eyes on him, even makes sure they are most of the time but here? No. He’s finally made it home after two years of being locked out of the country, what with the pandemic and the travel bans and all that, and so the last thing he wants to do is talk about racing all night with people who don’t really know him and have this idea of him that he’s not sure he can live up to anymore.

Maybe that’s just it. Maybe, when he’s back in Perth, he doesn’t want to be the honey badger, doesn’t want to be the world famous racecar driver everyone thinks they get to have a piece of. Maybe, when he’s here, at home, he wants to be just Dan and have that be enough. 

Then again, being ‘just Dan’ wasn’t enough fifteen years ago when he- When he so selfishly did what he thought was right and broke so much - trust, at least a hundred promises, and a heart - in just one night, that the possibility of that- Of being confronted with the consequences of his actions, even after all this time, almost makes him cancel at the last minute, some bullshit excuse about a migraine ready at the tip of his tongue.

But Michael makes him go. Tells him he’ll regret it if he doesn't even though Daniel thinks that’s highly unlikely because he’s been doing just fine without seeing all these people for the past fifteen years.

Michael made him go and so here he is, tucked away in a corner of the courtyard at Newman College, peeling the label of a bottle of beer while Michael keeps rattling off the names of people he recognises as they walk past them. Dan tries to at least look as if he’s having a good time but the pieces of torn paper scattered across the table tell another story. 

It’s- There must have been someone in charge of decorating the place but he thinks they did a shit job. There’s a big ‘Class of 2007’ banner hanging from a tree but the seven has half fallen and he thinks the two also might not make it to the end of the night and- Honestly, it’s just pathetic. There’s a bar on his left and a dance floor in front of him but there’s no DJ and the music that has been put on over the speakers is too soft and so there’s no one dancing either, most people just standing around and talking loudly, catching up with old friends and forgotten crushes.

Daniel’s still on his first beer of the evening but already too many of his classmates and people who he doesn’t even remember being in his year have come up to him to ask him what it’s like, going that fast on those circuits, and travelling the world, and- Each and every one of them saying how they wish they could swap places with him because, “Mate. You are living the life!”

He has to bite his tongue every single time, has to keep from telling them it’s not all they’ve made it out to be. Because if the G-forces alone don’t wreck enough havoc on your body, the constant jetlag most definitely will. Add to that the constant pressure of the team, the fans, and, most of all, himself, and it’s a wonder he hasn’t retired yet. He doesn’t say that, of course he doesn’t, because sometimes it’s better to keep the dream alive. Instead he gives them one of his thousand-megawatt smiles, pats their shoulder a little too hard, and says, “Yeah, you’d absolutely love it.” 

The scarce moments there’s no one talking to him, and Michael doesn’t fill his mind with useless trivia about whoever walks by them at that moment, he lets his eyes wander across the room, searching for- Something he lost fifteen years ago. Even though he’s not sure he’ll ever find it again. 

***

After two hours or so, Michael spots one of his old teachers on the other side of the yard and tells Daniel he’ll go over to have a quick chat and that he’ll be back in a minute and that after they can go home if he wants. Daniel nods, tells him, “No worries,” even though he can’t wait to get out of here. He watches as his best friend makes his way through the crowd, shaking his head when he sees Michael greeting everyone he comes across with a smile and a hug and a genuine, “Hey, how have you been?”

People always think Daniel is the more outgoing of the two but in reality Michael is much more of a social butterfly than he’ll ever be, definitely less guarded and more open, and not as worried about ulterior motives hidden behind kind words and bright smiles as Daniel is. 

He sighs and focuses on peeling off the last bit of label still stuck to his beer but it proves to be a resilient fuckin’ piece of paper and so he curses quietly and has to fight the urge to throw the bottle against the wall behind him in frustration. However, he’s not a quitter - hence why he’s still in Formula One, he thinks wryly - and so he doubles his efforts, determined to strip this bottle of both paper and any glue residue that’s left. 

A laughing voice comes from somewhere on his left then, “Are you ok?”

He looks up from his art project, a little confused by the fresh beer that suddenly appears in his field of vision, but when he sees who’s handing it to him he can’t help his jaw from dropping. He's the least eloquent he’s ever been because all he says is, “Holy shit, what are you doing here?” 

She laughs even harder and the sound of it is like music to his ears- It feels as though she’s putting him back under her spell again, pulling him in with the sweet sound of her laughter and the promise of hope renewed, and he’s never been more willing to let himself fall off the deep end and into the unknown. Not the unknown, he thinks. Unfamiliar territory maybe. Or is that the same thing?  

He watches her shrug, “It’s our fifteen-year high school reunion, Daniel,” she says and his name, rolling off her tongue so effortlessly yet sounding so different from anyone else saying it, drags him under- “Someone needs to play the scapegoat for them to take pity on.” 

He flinches at her words, wants to tell her that’s not true, that no one is taking pity on her, but he can’t. Because if he does, that’s exactly what he’ll be doing too. And so instead he points at himself and says, “Yeah, no shit. That’s why I’m here, babe.” Because fuck it, two can play this game and they’ve always been right up to par as far as self-deprecation has been concerned. 

She eyes him suspiciously and takes a sip of her beer before she shakes her head, “No.” 

“No?”

“No,” she echoes with a sad smile. “No, Daniel-” she looks down at the bottle in her hands and he wants nothing more than to put his hand over hers, take some of her pain away, but he knows she’ll never let him because fuck, it’s fifteen years too late, “-you’re not the loser here. You’re not-  You didn’t run away from- You were running towards something. Bigger things. Better things.” She looks up at him then, a sad smile playing on her lips, “You became a star.” 

Fuck.

She doesn’t notice the way he swallows hard, or maybe she chooses not to, and instead continues although her voice is a little more quiet now, “I’m the one who ran away. The one who left everyone and everything behind to no avail because I now know that I’ll always carry with me what I was running from. Turns out the hurt stays the same, Daniel, no matter where you are.” 

He wants to tell her. Wants to tell her about his own life and how he’s been running away from everyone and everything for the past fifteen years as well. The only difference is that he’s been doing it under the guise of something he claims he loves.

It isn’t. Not anymore.

What he loves is right here.

He knows that now. Now as in, this exact moment when she looks up at him again and gives him a weary smile, “It was really good to see you again-”

Daniel just nods, not trusting his voice right now even though there’s so much he wants to say. Fifteen years worth of- 

“I should go,” she says all of a sudden, eyebrows knitting together and scrunching her nose the way she always did whenever she tried to justify her actions. “I shouldn’t have- Maybe it was better if I-”

“Hey, no.” Daniel does reach out this time. Puts his hand on hers and doesn’t miss the way she freezes under his touch and so he quietly berates himself because he should have known better. “Shit, sorry-” he pulls his hand away, letting it hover over hers awkwardly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t-”

“It’s ok,” she tells him quietly. “I just wasn’t expecting it to-” she takes a deep breath as if she’s trying to find the courage to say what she’s about to say next, “I wasn’t expecting it to hurt this much. Not- Not you touching me but this-” She waves her hand between them, “Us.” 

He swallows hard, a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he’s only ever experienced once before, right before he sent his car into the wall during FP2 in Austria two years ago. Back then there was nothing he could do to change his trajectory. He hopes this time there is, “Can we-” he tries to smile but knows he fails miserably. “Can we talk? It doesn’t have to be right now but- I’m here for another two weeks, maybe-”

“Dan,” she starts and he never knew. He never knew three letters could hold so much promise. That’s what he holds onto anyway, not wanting to hear the hurt and anger and disappointment he also thinks he hears. Maybe there’s love too, buried somewhere deep under all the other stuff but- 

“Please?” He hangs his head and because he realises his fate is completely in her hands he does something he knows he’s not going to be proud of but desperate times and all that. He puts his hand on the table, close to hers, their pinkies almost touching when he says, “I miss you.” 

“Dan,” she says again but this time it’s- Different. Lighter? He’s not sure. Maybe he’s imagining things. Before he has a chance to think about it some more she surprises him. Like she always did, “I missed you too-” 

Of course he notices she uses past tense. And of course he notices the way his heart skips a beat at whatever it is he thinks she’s implying. Still, he pulls back a little and searches her face for- What, he’s not sure. He tries again, “Please?”

She nods, “Now? I don’t want- Maybe it’s better if we don’t get to think things over and come up with rehearsed excuses and-”

“Now is good,” he agrees quickly, not wanting to lose her to the hands of time. He takes his phone out and shoots Michael a quick message, nothing more than a ‘I’m going to try to make things right. No need to wait for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

It’s vague but he knows Michael will understand and so he puts his phone on silent and pockets it again before his best friend even has the chance to text him back.

She looks up at him then and smiles a hesitant smile, “Promise me one thing?”

One thing. Everything. The world. Whatever it takes, Daniel wants to say. He nods instead.

“Don’t make me miss you again.” 

[witch-city]

how about angst with a happy ending with a person of your choosing?!!

sleepless without you

marvel masterlist | marvel headcanons | navigation

ex!natasha romanoff x reader

word count: ~2k words

a/n: i decided to break up all the yelena requests with some nat, so yay (dw, more yelena soon). also, i came up with the whole thing while chugging a pint glass of water at 11 pm, so that's something. this took quite some time to finish (like 120 days)...it has been a long time coming, so i'm pretty proud of it. anyways, enjoy :)

warnings: hella angst (but an eventual happy ending)

requests are (kinda) open!

You stared up at your ceiling, arms and legs tangled within the blankets as you tried desperately to fall asleep. Recently, you hadn't been going to sleep as easily as you once had. Though you attributed it to regular stress, you knew that was a lie. The real reason behind your sleep problems was that you were alone. For years, you had someone by your side, there to snuggle into you, or sing you to sleep, or hold you until you were out, and that someone was none other than Natasha Romanoff.

Sure, she was a spy, but she could be so oddly calm and caring with you. You adored and worshiped her, and she did the same for you. You were always together, and when you couldn't be, you were thinking about each other. Everyone called you inseparable, and, for a time, you both would agree. And then things began to go downhill. The rough patches you occasionally faced repeated and became nearly perpetual. The small arguments you had about silly things which would end with both of you apologizing so you could sleep in each other's arms again became shouting matches which would end with someone storming out or sleeping on the couch.

And then, as if the years you spent loving each other without a single drop of hesitancy, doubt, or deception meant nothing, you stormed out of the bedroom you shared for what you would soon learn was the last time ever. Neither of you had spoken about it, nor had you officially broken up. You just knew that it was over, no matter what either of you would say to mend the relationship. Somehow, everyone just knew that it was a sore subject.

You couldn't remember the last time you didn't spend your entire day with Natasha, so to say you were bored out of your mind and seriously distraught post-split was an understatement. All you would do was sit in bed all day, eat food, play video games, watch TV and movies, and very few other things. You were taken off of most missions (save the ones on which you were needed), especially the ones with Nat. Of course, you didn't have much of a choice in the missions you had to go on though, so you occasionally were forced to work alongside her. No excuses.

Outside of missions, you had no obligations. There was no need for you to attend the occasional team dinner, you didn't need to go to any Stark Industries galas, no responsibilities. You took that as an opportunity to avoid Natasha, and it worked almost perfectly. You only rarely crossed paths, sticking to small, dry conversation when needed.

There was only one time when your paths crossed, and, for whatever reason, you actually talked. You didn't just talk about the weather or other shallow and distracting things to get you through the time you spent together. It was completely different and, if you were being honest, much more fulfilling.

It was past midnight, maybe 2 AM. You had left your bedroom to get a glass of water. It had become accustomed to you to refrain from getting water from your bathroom sink and leave your room to get things at ungodly hours of the night. You knew nobody would be awake or around to ask why you were up. You really weren't interested in sharing your emotional baggage leftover from breaking up with Natasha, especially that you hadn't been sleeping well.

As you pulled a pint glass out of one of the cabinets and went to fill it up at the fridge's water dispenser, you heard a voice in the adjacent lounge. You immediately recognized the raspiness of it, a cold feeling trailing down your spine. You didn't know what that feeling was, but you certainly did not welcome it given the circumstances.

"What are you doing up this late?"

"Just getting water."

"Can't you get it from your sink?" The redhead asked, crossing her arms. You didn't see it, but she seemed frustrated by the fact that you had yet to turn to face her.

"Don't you disapprove of that? I distinctly remember you telling me that sink water wasn't good." You recalled that one time late at night when you got out of bed for a drink and went to your bathroom with a cup, but as you filled it up, Natasha made some offhand comment about how sink water was gross. You couldn't remember her reasoning, maybe something about the storage tank or old pipes. You couldn't remember, but from then on, you always went down to the kitchen for drinking water.

She ignored your question, remembering that time too. The Russian wasn't even sure why she asked that question; she knew why you did what you did. Her. You had changed the smallest things for her. Did it really matter to you where you got your water? No way, but after her comment, bathroom sink water was off-putting. And now, even though you were broken up, and there seemed to be no hope for you to get back together, you were still seemingly looking to please her.

It was funny how you had practically destroyed each other over a period of years and were completely heartbroken, but still wanted to please and be adored by the other. It made no sense and total sense all at the same time. Being in her presence again left you exhausted and so refreshed, so empty and so full, so alone and so wanted, so sad and so happy. Just seeing her like this made you a mess. You tried your damnedest to hide it, but she, of course, saw through your little charade.

A silence fell upon you as you took a sip of your water. You tried to keep your gaze away from her, but you could feel her piercing green eyes burn straight through the side of your head, making you look over to her after a moment.

The look in her eyes- you had seen it before. It wasn't hatred or anything like that. It was yearning, not in a lustful way, but in a way that nearly made you melt. You felt fluttery and slightly embarrassed, like there were butterflies in your stomach. God, how does she still do this to me, you thought anxiously as you took another sip.

"I know you haven't been sleeping well."

"How?"

"Sunken, dark eyes, lack of interest in practically everything, the works, but mostly...neither have I."

You nodded, looking over to her and down slightly. "It's weird having an empty bed. It feels like someone should be there, but no," you trailed off, shrugging. As another silence fell, you thought of a time when Nat came home to you crying in bed for whatever reason and soothed you until you were asleep. You remember waking up in her arms, looking up, and seeing her there, her arms wrapped snuggly around you and her soft snores.

You suddenly felt so melancholy. You hadn't felt like this at all since the break-up. Well, it's not like you could; you completely blocked all your memories of Nat out so you wouldn't have to think about them.

Maybe that wasn't such a great idea because, before you knew it, tears pricked your eyes. You rubbed them, trying to rid the familiar sting they caused. The redhead's instincts kicked in, and she began to approach you, but before she could pull you into her, she stopped. You noticed how she cringed momentarily. You blamed it on something unrelated, but you knew that it was completely about you.

You closed your tired eyes, willing the tears not to cascade down your face, and luckily, only a few fell. You quickly wiped them away, turning away slightly. Except as you raised your hand to rid your face of the tears, you felt a warm hand on your wrist, pulling you in the direction they came from. Before you knew it, the distance between you closed almost completely. She slowly raised her hand towards your face, stopping to make sure it was alright. Once you nodded, she used her thumbs to wipe away the stray tears. You relaxed at her touch, allowing your eyes to close.

She watched you, noticing how the little crinkle between your eyebrows faded and how your face completely relaxed. The Russian looked at you a moment longer, just holding your face like how she used to. Neither of you said anything, but rather basked in each other's presence. After a moment, you opened your eyes to meet hers. Your hands moved to her waist, not even waiting for your brain to stop them. You hadn't noticed it, but you had inched so close to her. Moments before, there was nearly a foot separating you, but now, her chest brushed against your own.

Your noses were nearly touching, and you could feel her breath as you watched how her intent eyes danced around your face. First, she looked into your eyes, but a moment later, she was staring at your lips or your nose or even your hair.

She dragged her nose against yours for a moment, your lips almost grazing each other. Neither of you said anything for the longest time, you just stood there. You weren't sure if she wanted to kiss you, but you had some feeling deep down that she wanted it to happen.

You searched for words, desperately trying to fill the silence. But as your mouth opened, nothing came to you. Not sure what to do, you stepped back an inch or so, furrowing your brow once again. Natasha stepped back as well, wrapping her arms around herself as she chewed on her bottom lip.

"Nat, I-"

As if Natasha knew what you were going to say, she replied, "It's okay. You don't have to."

"I want to."

She went silent, her mouth opening just slightly in both awe and confusion. She was wondering just how you knew what she meant. She was also shocked that you still held those feelings for her. Again, you spoke up to fill the silence. "I want to, Natasha. I want to love you." After a deep breath, you finished what you had wanted to say for quite some time. "I still love you."

"I still love you too."

Your eyes met hers, and neither of you would dare pull away. Without even realizing it, the two of you had stepped closer once more, somehow closer this time. Both of you stared for a minute, but looked down as your hands intertwined as they had done so many times before. Returning your gaze back to the other, you stood frozen for a moment until the redhead gently grabbed your waist and practically slammed her lips to yours.

She quickly pulled back as if she hadn't meant to kiss you.

She did.

You didn't get enough. Pulling her into you, you kissed her back. This kiss was unlike any other. It was the recreation of two souls coming together to form one. It was the validation of feelings left unheard and unsaid.

Eventually, you felt yourself crying. You had to pull away, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs. You turned away from her as well, placing your other hand on the counter as you leaned over it. As you did so, Natasha panicked momentarily, thinking she had just made you cry. In truth, you didn't even know why you were crying. It just happened.

Once Natasha placed her hand on your elbow for a moment, you turned around and practically attacked her with a hug. Knocking the wind out of her, you buried your face into the crook of her neck. The woman shushed you and ran her fingers through your hair lovingly. And so you stood there in her embrace, holding her tight around her waist as she held you.

Neither of you had to say anything. You just knew that everything would soon be back to normal. You weren't quite sure what you and Natasha were yet, but did it really matter? You loved her, and she loved you back. What more could you ask for?

[mostly-marvel-musings]

How about a smut prompt no. 7 with Tony Stark ? ❤❤❤❤

Love to lose

A/N: Thanks for requesting this lovely! Hope you like it :))

Gif’s not mine! Credits to the owner

Prompts used: Oral sex & “First one to make a noise loses.”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, it’s dirty okay...

Word count: 2k

Requests & Challenges

Tony Stark Taglist: @raspberrymama @boop-le-snoot @ladyeliot @make-a-memory-drink-it-up @loveisallyouneed1125 @ownsmyheart @anthonyjanthony666 @downeyreads @the-secret-thief @getlostsquidward @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @elemephstudies @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @suchababie @another-stark-sub @littlegasps @kahlanmars @supraveng @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists open! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be in any of these ;))

.

“First one to make a noise loses? Seriously?”

“Yeah!”

“No!”

“I honestly thought you’d be more adventurous Tony.”

“Honey you’ll get all the adventure you want once I’m done with this project. You remember the night of four times, don’t you?”

Tony raised an eyebrow and smirked as your eyes lit up with thoughts of the night he mentioned, cheeks growing warm as your mind flooded with memories of the aforementioned night.

That night you’d lost all sense of cognition and your legs were pure jelly from being utterly fucked out.

It was never a dull moment when it came to you and Stark in the bedroom. He knew all the right ways to drive you crazy and you had come to learn to push all the right buttons to drive him insane.

“Tony come on! I know you’re up for it.”

You pointed to the half-mast erection currently staring back at you.

He glanced down at it before shaking his head and returning to the screen, soon getting engrossed in the information displayed in front of him. Eyebrows knitting together in concentration while his fingers flew over the surface, probably in search of something you didn’t care about.

You scowled for a little while, arms crossed over your chest before walking towards him with a look of determination that hid unattended lust.

Tony didn’t mind you stepping in between his legs as he leaned against the table behind, until you ghosted your fingers over the button of his denims.

Once you popped it open and undid his fly, he shot you a warning look before his phone rang, giving you time to push the jeans and his boxers down just enough to let his erection bounce free.

“You’re free to do whatever you want only if you’re prepared for the consequences sweetheart.” He warned before answering Phil Coulson’s call.

Desire bloomed deep in your belly as his words sent tingles down your spine, knowing the punishment would either be really good or really bad, depending on Tony’s mood. But you were willing to take the risk, it was always worth it in the end.

Shrugging, you dropped down to your knees, his semi-erect cock waiting for your ministrations as you eyed it before gazing up at Tony through your eyelashes innocently.

He was deep in conversation on the phone but the tight grip of his free hand on the edge of the counter and tapping of fingers against the surface indicated he was waiting for you to make your move.

Tony exhaled a breath he was unconsciously holding as your hand wrapped around his length. Taking your time with it, your hand lazily stroked his cock, thumb brushing over the tip every now and then.

“Please I understand Agent, don’t bore me with those unnecessary details..oh!”

Glancing down, he suppressed the rest of his reaction as your tongue joined the party. Small kitten licks over the tip before you drew a strip all the way to the base, all the while watching his demeanour change from composed to flustered.

You took him in your mouth and began swirling your tongue around his length, smirking when he faltered and brought his hand down to move your hair out of your face.

“I’m going over the details n-now. Oh yes—yes I’ll call Fury once I’m—I’m almost done here.”

Tony didn’t wait for Coulson to answer before he cut the call and practically threw the phone away. Letting out a groan, he jerked his hips forward, pushing himself deeper in your mouth as he grabbed you by your hair roughly, guiding your mouth over his cock.

“You’re in so much trouble baby...”

You simply hummed in response, continuing to finish him off as you increased your speed, feeling him twitch against your lips already. The little grunts Tony uttered spurred you on to bring him closer and closer to climax. Your own arousal had turned your panties moist as you watched his lust-blown eyes shut and bite his lip.

“Ah shit! You want me to cum in your mouth?”

You nodded eagerly as Tony’s hips jolted forward and he cursed out loud before shooting spurts of cum down your throat, face contorted in pleasure as he emptied himself, the warm salty liquid travelling down your throat.

He grabbed you by the back of your neck, making you stand before crashing his lips to yours, tasting himself as you deepened the kiss. You moved your clothed core over his softened cock to get some friction, gaining another groan from Tony who felt how moist you were.

“So wet my dirty girl. Will you give me an hour? I promise I’ll make it worth it.” Tony whispered softly, grabbed your hips to stop your grinding. Reluctant to let you go but the urgency with which Phil had called left him with no other choice than to make you wait.

“Fine. But if you’re late…”

“Trust me babe. I’ll be there sooner than you think.”

“Whatever.” He pecked your pouted lips one last time as you pulled his pants back up, turning to walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

“Don’t touch yourself.”

“You’re in no position to make demands Stark.”

“Am I not?” Even with your back to him, you could sense he was giving you ‘the look’. The one that screamed ‘no matter what, I’m always in charge’. The man was really going to be the death of you some day.

“Ugh. Fine. Hurry up.”

.

“Okay so we need to establish some ground rules first.”

Your eyes snapped up from the book you were pretending to read as Tony swung the bedroom door and got in, locking it before sliding in next to you, resting his back against the headboard.

You were celebrating your victory on the inside because just minutes ago he’d made fun of you for coming up with this game, only to now come up with modifications for the same.

Like a good girl you had behaved, controlled the urge to bring yourself to an orgasm after that little session downstairs. You were still wet, which meant he already had more chances of winning at your game.

This was a bad idea. Why hadn’t you thought this through?

��Hon?”

“Huh?”

“The rules?”

Mentally shaking yourself for zoning out, you sat up straight and faced him.

“Alright. Whines are allowed. Moans aren’t.”

“Fair enough.”

“No oral sex.”

“Not acceptable. You know I owe you for that amazing blow-job. Come on now..”

“Fine. But no fingering.”

Tony made a non-committal huff but agreed, knowing how much his fingers spurred you on.

You went back and forth discussing, rejecting and accepting the terms and conditions as if it were a legit deal.

Soon after you shook on it, there was a switch in the air and neither of you felt the need to say much else except get on with the game.

Climbing in Tony’s lap, you cupped the sides of his face and pressed your lips to his. Softly grazing against each other at first while you fingers teased the base of his neck.

He carded his hands through your hair before pulling you against his chest, hands now splayed across your back as he slanted his mouth over yours and deepened the kiss.

Maneuvering a little so his legs straightened out on the bed, Tony heard a tiny sigh escape your lips as your aroused core met with his growing bulge. Keeping those noises that threatened to leave your mouth turned out to be harder than you had both imagined. You two were quite vocal when it came to sex.

It was difficult, but all the more exciting.

After a while, the make-out session turned out to be insufficient and Tony had you on your back, your clothes removed and thrown carelessly somewhere behind as he settled between your legs.

You had to bite back a moan as Tony’s lips travelled down your neck, littering tiny kisses all over the skin before he found that junction where your neck met your shoulder, the pulse point which he so generously marked a spot on, sure to leave a purple bruise in its place. On cue, your head moved aside to grant him more access as your breaths turned to pants, finding it hard not to think about his bulge that was rubbing so deliciously against your heated core in slow but deliberate thrusts.

You had to push him away to make sure you didn’t lose so soon, that sure earned a chuckle from the genius. Moving further south, he latched onto one of your nipples and flicked his tongue along the bud all the while massaging and kneading the other in his hand. A sigh had involuntarily slipped out, it wasn’t breaking any rules but it sure made Tony gaze up with lust-blown eyes as a smirk appeared on that handsome face.

Trailing kisses along your navel, he reached between your legs and stopped. You shot him a warning look as you sat up on your elbows when his fingers teased along your wet folds, causing him to throw his hands up in surrender before diving in face first into your pussy.

Closing a hand over your mouth, you let your head fall back onto the pillows as Tony licked a fat strip along your wetness, his nose brushing against your bundle of nerves. It didn’t take long for you to feel your heartbeat on your throbbing clit, Tony leaving no stone unturned to make sure you were a needy mess below him.

“What was that baby girl?” He purred, facial hair glazed with your juices when he emerged, giving you a shit-eating grin after you shook your head.

You were so close.

Flipping you on your stomach, you heard him unbutton his jeans and drop them in a low thud on the ground. His hands pulled your ass up in the air, urging the cheeks apart before his cock met your entrance, gathering your wetness, your pussy aching for release at this point.

“Tony..”

“Giving up already?”

Instead of answering, you reached behind, grabbed his cock in your hand and lined him up at your entrance before pushing your hips back. Both of you swallowed your groans as he bottomed out, stretching your walls to the fullest before pulling all the way out and thrusting in.

Your knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets as you were almost ready to give up and accept defeat, until you felt his cock twitch inside you, a sign Tony wasn’t too far along from doing the same either.

Your walls clenched around his cock deliberately, hugging it in their wet warmth and eliciting an involuntary groan from the man.

“What was that honey?”

You teased, repeating the action only to have Tony pull out suddenly, turn you around once more and pull your legs over his shoulder before entering you again.

“You fucking tease..”

“You’re the one to talk. Now shut up and fuck me.”

Snapping his hips to yours at a furious pace, Tony gripped your legs roughly and bit your ankle. The silly little game long forgotten, you let out a pornographic moan as you felt the muscles in your belly contract, thighs tremble and mind turn into a fuzzy blur.

“Cum with me Tony..” you begged as he let go of your legs and buried his face in your neck, a hand snaking downward to rub your oversensitive clit.

“Do that thing again.”

His urgent whisper came out muffled by your hair but you knew what he was talking about. You granted his wish by pulling on his cock with your walls and felt his hips lose their rhythm. He came loud and hard, spilling inside you in spurts triggering your own orgasm as you cried out, digging your nails in his back as you shuddered.

Once you felt yourself float back down to reality, you brought your hands to caress Tony’s hair while he chuckled against the skin on your neck, repeatedly kissing you over there.

“It’s a draw then?” He mumbled.

“Yep.”

“You want a rematch?”

“Definitely.”

[cryoaquila]

surprise breakfast

prompt; making breakfast when your two boyfriends are being needy is not an easy task.

pairings; tartaglia x kaeya x gn!reader

themes; modern au, polyam, fluff, suggestive themes, food mention.

wc; 2k

the sounds of running water stir you awake. drowsily, you blink the remaining sleep away from your eyes as you sit up with a stretch. you notice that the bed was surprisingly empty as you were used to waking up next to your boyfriends who were always ready to snuggle with you and convince you to sleep a little longer. you look towards the bathroom where the sound was coming from and you see steam escaping from the small gap at the bottom of the shut door. instead of waking you up, they must have decided to shower and leave you to get some extra shut-eye. it was such a sweet gesture to you since, lately, you haven’t been sleeping well, but now that you were awake you decide to return their kind gesture by making a surprise breakfast for the three of you. draping your legs over the side of the bed, you put on your slippers before heading to the kitchen.

you let out a small yawn as you turn the light on before grabbing a pan from the kitchen cabinet and placing it on the stovetop. you tap your foot while thinking about what to make - there were so many great options for breakfast: omelets, crepes, sunny-side-up eggs, waffles, bacon, oatmeal, your mouth was practically watering thinking about all the possibilities and, secretly, you wanted to eat it all. the shower shutting off causes you to come back to your senses. well, now that a surprise breakfast was out of the question since they’d definitely be done drying off and see what you were up to, you decide to let them choose what they want. to prepare for whatever they ask for, you begin to gather some bowls, plates, and other supplies while waiting for them.

as you grab a few extra utensils, you hear the two of them enter the kitchen. you turn around to face them, a spatula in hand, ready to grant their breakfast wishes. kaeya was, unsurprisingly, only wearing a towel around his waist while tartaglia - who was still dripping wet and hadn’t dried off properly, per usual - was dressed in just a plain shirt and underwear. “good morning! i was going to make you two a surprise breakfast, but you finished showering quicker than i thought; so instead, i was wondering if either of you have any requests for what you want to eat this morning?”

kaeya makes his request without missing a beat, “i just want the two of you for breakfast.” he wraps an arm around your waist and another arm around tartaglia’s waist before pulling you both closer to him. you grin from how cheeky he was being and from the morning kiss he gives you.

“that would be the sweetest breakfast imaginable.” tartaglia beams before also giving you a quick kiss on your cheek, but his kiss was a little wetter than kaeya’s, and you had to wipe some water droplets off your cheek.

while the request was cute, you wanted something more substantial than your boyfriends for breakfast since you were actually hungry. “c’mon, that might be too sweet for breakfast, let’s wait until dessert for that, alright? seriously now, what do you two want?”

“all we really want this morning is some hugs and kisses from you,” tartaglia dramatically pouts, “you went to bed so early last night and then we didn’t get to shower with you this morning since we wanted you to sleep in, but we just want the affection we missed out on while you were asleep.”

“aw,” you gush, his adorable words almost causing you to forgo cooking breakfast all together in favor of ordering if not for what kaeya says next.

“and, you know, maybe some pancakes alongside the hugs and kisses...” he ears a playful glare from tartaglia and a snicker from you. “what?” he scoffs, shrugging slightly, “i am actually hungry after the shower.”

“pancakes are simple enough! is that ok with you too, babe?” you ask tartaglia.

he turns his attention back to you with a wink, “you know me, i like any and all food - especially if you or kaeya makes it.”

with that confirmation, you begin gathering ingredients to make the batter. a couple of pancakes shared between the three of you with warm syrup slathered on top did indeed sound quite good for a lazy morning; but you decide to spice it up a little by using a large heart-shaped mold for the pancakes to cook in. as you place everything down on the countertop your apron suddenly gets wrapped around the front of you, “here,” kaeya says, tying it in the back, “you almost forgot your apron.”

“oh, thank you!” but soon after thanking him, you realize he had ulterior motives for doing so. after tying the article of clothing, his hands trace down your chest and stomach before gently grabbing your waist, pulling you back into his body for an embrace. he kisses the side of your neck as you relax into his comforting touch and the sweet scent of the shampoo he used earlier washes over you. you lean back into him, ready to close your eyes and let him carry you back to bed, but the grumbling of your stomach causes you to push that idea to the side, for now. “hey now, less seduction and more pancake preparation.”

“only you can make an apron look like a designer outfit,” tartaglia comments, adding a whistle at the end.

“well,” you mutter as kaeya lets you go from his embrace, “you two would look great in an apron, especially if that was the only thing you were wearing.” you chuckle, knowing you were adding fuel to the fire that was their neediness, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“i mean,” tartaglia says as he tugs on kaeya’s towel, “one of us is already almost there.”

kaeya quickly grabs the hem of the towel to make sure it didn’t fall off from his tugging, a soft chuckle on his lips as he waved his finger, “nuh-uh, like they said, not until dessert time.”

while they continue to tease each other, you begin mixing the pancake batter together. while you combine the ingredients, some of the wet mixture splashes out of the bowl and gets on your apron and your face. before you can wipe it off you feel tartaglia gently take your chin into his hand, tilting your head upward to look at him, “here let me help you clean it off,” he then kisses you before licking the sweet batter off your cheeks. he clicks his tongue, “it tastes as good as you do.” you feel your face begin to turn red from his words. both of them were always so needy in the morning to the point you’d usually just order some breakfast to be delivered so you could stay in bed with them and enjoy some extra cuddles and kisses; in fact, sometimes the three of you would stay there until the afternoon - and you loved days like that. but, today, you were determined to get these special not-surprise pancakes finished for them, and their distractions were slowing you down. thus, with some reluctance, you nudge him away, turning back towards the stove and your mixture. you pour a little of the batter into the heart-shaped mold, the warm, melted butter sizzling underneath the batter. once the shape was set, you remove the mold and now it was time to wait for it to cook before flipping it over. you turn away from the stove, eyeing your boyfriends, who both had the widest grins on their faces knowing that now they would have your attention while the pancake cooks. you open your arms, ready for their hugs, giving them a playful little eye-roll when they practically drag you away from the stovetop so they could both hug you and each other at the same time with one on one side of you and the other on the other side of you.

“you know we can’t help but want your attention every morning,” tartaglia’s voice was muffled as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“especially when you look so adorable every morning.” kaeya adds quickly.

“i know it’s a normal thing for you two, but can’t you wait until the food is ready? maybe get some affection from each other while i cook?” you ask, trying to find a happy medium between their neediness and your want to finish these pancakes in a timely manner.

they look at each other, small smiles on both their faces, “we shared plenty of kisses in the shower, we want some from you now.” kaeya replies.

“you can’t wait for the pancakes to be done first?” you question.

“but waiting is hard…” tartaglia pouts.

“you two are the reason why food delivery services love us.” you sneer.

the three of you stop your conversation suddenly upon smelling burnt food. you scamper out of their grasps and over to the pan. you grab the spatula and try to flip the heart-shaped pancake, but half of it sticks to the bottom of the pan and what you do manage to flip is dark brown to black on the other side. tartaglia and kaeya look at each other worriedly before slowly walking over to your side. you feel sad at seeing the broken, burnt remains of the heart-shaped pancake in front of you. kaeya turns the burner off while tartaglia takes the pan, heading to the sink to dispose of the mess.

an awkward silence falls over the three of you and kaeya scratches the back of his head before trying to make some small talk, “that pancake burned really quickly, huh?”

“i guess the pan was too hot and… i should’ve been watching it.” you sigh, rubbing your forehead upon feeling a small headache coming on.

tartaglia turns the sink off, picking up a towel to dry the pan off, “it’s not your fault that you weren’t watching it cook.” he says, trying to comfort you.

kaeya rubs your upper back, “yeah, it’s more our fault for distracting you. sorry about that.”

“yeah, i’m sorry too.” tartaglia adds, bringing the cleaned pan over to the stovetop.

you shake your head, “eh, it’s alright. you two were just trying - and succeeding - at being cute.” you lean into kaeya’s chest, muttering, “i’m not upset, just a little bummed that the first pancake i cooked in a while had to burn…”

“well,” tartagla places the pan back down, grabbing a little bit of butter and placing it in the pan while kaeya turns the burner back on, “there’s still plenty of pancake batter left, right?”

kaeya glances at the bowl, “yeah, enough to make a couple more.”

“then let’s redeem ourselves!” tartaglia says as the butter begins to melt and sizzle in the warm pan.

kaeya picks up the heart-shaped mold, placing it back into the pan, “yeah, and we’ll help you this time instead of distracting you.”

tartaglia gives you the bowl filled with the pancake batter, “and then after we enjoy our not-surprise pancakes together we can go and get our kisses and cuddles.” 

their enthusiasm uplifts your mood and your pour some more of the batter into the mold, “and without distraction, you should be able to get what you want sooner!” you put the bowl back onto the counter, crossing your arms with a sly smirk, “and maybe after we enjoy our pancakes, some ‘dessert’ for breakfast might be in order.”

[anasticklefics]

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

*

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

*

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

[nicolesangel]

nothing safe is worth the drive

pairing: wanda maximoff/reader

summary: you and wanda both get hurt on missions, just for completely different reasons. what happens when your anxiety for losing each other finally comes to a peak?

words: 2k

author’s note: very loosely based off of "treacherous" by taylor swift. specifically the lyrics "this hope is treacherous, this daydream is dangerous" and "nothing safe is worth the drive and i will follow you, follow you home". i absolutely did not do a thorough edit of this so please tell me if there is anything wrong! enjoy :-)

click here to read on ao3 or read below!

The compound was quiet today.

You lay in the medbay, an IV line in your arm, your closest friend, Wanda, sitting next to you. She had been next to you all night, waiting for you to wake up, but she’ll never tell you that.

The mission was going so well until the very end. You were supposed to find the weapons and secure them and then get out. There wasn’t supposed to be someone waiting for you at the exit; your path was supposed to be cleared by Natasha. You got out with only a few broken ribs and a concussion, fairly lucky, but when you got back to the jet, you blacked out.

When you finally awoke this morning, Wanda’s eyes were shining with relief. She squeezed your hand before letting go so you could readjust yourself. She handed you a glass of water silently; you gave a small smile back before taking a sip.

“Is everyone else okay?” Your voice was rough as you spoke your first words.

“Yeah,” Wanda sighed. “Actually, there was an emergency call. Everyone else has already headed out. i just wanted to make sure you were okay before I left.”

You panicked momentarily and sat up straighter. “Okay, give me ten and I’ll be ready to go.”

“Y/N, seriously? You aren’t going anywhere. Even if the doctors had okayed you, Tony has you suspended from missions for two weeks until you heal.”

“I just—“ you pause, groaning in pain as you shift your body toward Wanda. You now realize the room is almost completely dark, light just spilling in from the hallway. You sigh, “Fine. But please, Wanda, be extra careful. They can’t afford to lose you too.”

I can’t afford to lose you, you think.

“I promise, Y/N/N. Everything will be okay.” she squeezes your hand one last time before leaving.

You are left alone with with the dark and your racing mind. You can’t lose Wanda. She doesn’t know how much she means to you. Maybe you don’t even realize it yourself until now. You love her.

——

Everything did not end up okay. Despite her promise to you, Wanda ended up in the hospital bed beside yours. But, at least, she was conscious.

Your mind is racing with concern, sadness, anger (and love). You don’t even realize you’re staring at Wanda until she shoots you a glare, a bandage covering a huge gash on her forehead. “Your thoughts are loud. I appreciate your concern, but please, just turn your mind off and let me rest.”

You don’t even get a word in before Wanda is asleep. You lay on your back and stare up at the dim fluorescent lights. Your eyes are burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. You want to sit next to Wanda and be there for her when she wakes up the way she had done for you.

Your body is aching, but you don’t know if it’s from the longing or the broken ribs. But despite your fighting, you also fall asleep.

When you wake up, the room is just as dark as it had been earlier. You have no idea what time it is, but it feels like no time has passed at all. You hear rustling sheets from next to you and notice that Wanda is awake, laying on her side, head propped up by her hand, staring directly at you with a small smile (or grimace, if you looked close enough, from the pain).

“Morning sleepyhead,” she whispers.

You turn yourself to face her, as much as you can without facing excruciating pain, and give her a gentle smile back. But your smile fades as quick as it came. “Wanda…”

Her expression immediately shifts to worry, her brows furrowing as she looks you up and down. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“No,” you sigh, trying not to let your anxiety overwhelm you. You begin frantically whispering, “I was so scared Wanda. You told me you would be extra careful and yet, here you are in the same condition as me.”

“Y/N…”

“I could have lost you for good…” you mutter under your breath.

“Why would you think that? You know I can handle myself and it would never go that far.”

“I—“ you pause to swallow down a sob as tears begin finally slipping from your eyes. You almost let those three words escape your lips, but you couldn’t do that. Not now. Not when Wanda, and you, were injured and emotional and clearly frustrated with each other. “I just want you to be safe. That’s all.”

“No,” she growls, and you flinch. “It’s something more than that. I know you care, but please give up the act Y/N. What is this really about?”

You end up back how you started this conversation; eyes up at the ceiling, lying on your back. “It can wait, Wanda. Neither of us are in the condition to be fighting or crying or — whatever.”

“Fine,” she whispers, mirroring your position. “Just know, I feel the same way.”

——

When you wake up the next morning, you are discharged from the medbay and were ordered another week in bed to heal the concussion. You wanted to ask Wanda what she meant — what did she feel the same way about? — but she was still passed out when the nurse came to wheel you back to your room. It would have to wait.

The next week went by excruciatingly slow. The only human interaction you had was with the nurses that brought you food and medicine. And Natasha that one day.

She brought you dinner on your fourth day. You asked her to stay for a bit; you needed company after being (and feeling) alone for a while. She complied, sitting down beside you on the bed, stealing a bite of your food, gaining a glare from you.

“Nat,” you said quietly, testing out your voice after hours of silence, “what was the emergency that day? No one has told me…”

“We must have missed some of the weapons because we caught trucks moving grenades and dynamite from the same unit. But everything went as planned.”

You looked up at her with confusion. “But, if everything went well, then how did…”

Natasha rolled her eyes, a smirk crossing her lips. “She got that cut fighting for you.”

What does that mean? you thought. Confusion swept your mind. “Nat, what—“

“She found the guy who hurt you. Cursed him out. He punched her. Hard. She threw him around a bit before sending him our way.”

“Why would she do that? I told her to be careful.” You couldn’t believe what you heard. You couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or pissed.

“You know her. You should have known she wasn’t going to listen. She cares too much to let something like that go.” Natasha patted your hand before she walked toward the door.

Just as she reached the door, she paused and looked back at you. Tears are beginning to form again in your eyes. “You should tell her, you know.”

“What?” You locked eyes with Natasha.

“That you love her.”

Natasha was gone before you could respond. How did she know? Was it that obvious? you thought, your mind scrambling for a coherent thought. And did Natasha know something you didn’t? She did say that Wanda cared about you “too much”, but what does that—

Is that what Wanda was talking about when she said she felt the same way? Did she already know? There’s no way. How could she possibly know you love her when you only just realized it yourself?

It is now your first day off of bedrest and you take time to reacclimate yourself to the compound alone. You’re given smiles and nods and “I’m glad you’re okay!”s as you walk around. You weren’t expecting company when you returned to your room.

Wanda was wrapped up in a blanket on your bed, a book in her hands. As soon as she heard your footsteps entering the room, she put the book down and looked up at you with a shy, apologetic smile. “Hey,” she breathed out. “Can we talk?”

“I mean it doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, does it?” You slide into your bed beside Wanda. She offers you some of her blanket and you take it, ending up shoulder to shoulder with her.

Wanda looks over at you, empathy emitting from her emerald eyes. “I’m sorry I snapped at you the other day. I just— I hate to see you hurting and my emotions got the best of me and—“

“Natasha told me how you got hurt.”

Wanda sighs. “Of course she did.”

“Listen, Wand, you didn’t have to do that. I was fine! Really, you didn’t have to—“

“Yes I did!” You’re cut off abruptly by Wanda’s exasperation. Her eyes are sparkling with tears as she takes your hand in her own. “I did have to. Because I couldn’t handle seeing you so hurt and him getting away with hardly a scrape. I care too much about you.”

“But why did you put yourself in so much danger when I specifically asked you to be careful?” Your voice is elevated and now tears are slipping down both of your faces.

“Because I love you!”

The room fills with silence as you stare at each other, your mouth slightly agape as you squeeze Wanda’s hand.

You whisper, “you love me?”

Wanda gives you a sad smile. “I love you. So much it hurts. And it’s so scary how much I love you because what happens if I lose you? Even if you don’t love me in the way I love you, I am so scared that one day you’ll get hurt and I’ll lose you. I just—“

You cup Wanda’s cheek with your free hand. “I do love you in the way you love me. I really, really do.”

You lock eyes with each other before Wanda begins slowly leaning in. Her eyes flicker down at your lips before you close your own and connect your lips with hers. You’ve never been so happy or scared, but your heart is buzzing.

You separate before taking both of her hands in your own and placing them in your lap. You stare down at your intertwined fingers before speaking.

“I love you, but I’m so scared too. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you either.” You look up at Wanda before giving a timid smile. “But I want to do this with you. You’re my home. No matter how dangerous or scary it may be, I want to love you.”

“I have hope, you know.” Wanda takes one of her hands to push a piece of your hair behind your ear and lets it linger. “I know we are constantly putting ourselves in danger. It’s literally our job. But loving you is worth the risk. It’s worth the pain we will experience and the anxiety and anger because in the end of it all, it will always lead back to you. No matter what. You’re my home too.”

You lean in and kiss her again before wrapping yourself around her. She wraps her arms around your waist, holding on as if she would never let go.

“Are we really going to do this?” you whisper.

“There’s no way we aren’t doing this. Loving you is worth the risk of losing you.”

You separate enough to see Wanda’s face, her arms still around your waist, yours still resting around her shoulders, your foreheads resting against each other.

“God, I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you just the same.”

[miiamour]

tequila kisses

gn!reader x remus lupin

summary: remus gets stupidly drunk one night and shows signs of admiration. what happens the next morning when he got too wasted to remember?

warnings: drunk remus, alcohol, fluff, slight angst, illusions/mentions of sex, kissing.

word count: 2k

a/n: remus is very tall so you could be 5’10 and he’d still be able to rest his head on yours. this is gender neutral reader so please let me know if it has gendered pronouns or anything that implies a gender. also big thanks to @destourtereaux for helping me with the plot! <3 ily rosie!!

the gryffindor common room was lit up with red tinted lights. the furniture was pushed to the corners of the room for dancing space, although the dancing seemed more like sex with clothes on. the tables that were near the entrance of the common room, had drinks and snacks.

it was felt hot and sweaty. the smell of alcohol lingered throughout the room. teenagers either grinding on one another or taking shots of whatever alcohol james brought. it was a weirdly comfortable feeling.

sirius and james decided to throw a party for the pure reason that they got an O on transfiguration— though they’d throw a party even if they failed.

you had been standing around in a corner with a cup full of firewhiskey. you had been friends with the marauders for years so i’d have been wrong for you not to go.

james, and sirius were currently dancing with some random girls who’s names they probably didn’t know while peter watched, swaying by his lonesome. and as for remus— where is remus?

you scoured the room for him, couldn’t have been too hard, he was extremely tall. you saw him in the corner of the other side of the common room, with a bottle of— you squinted— tequila.

you squirmed your way through the people. you watched the room as you made your way to the table; people making out in corners, others doing shots, dancing on top of tables, every cliche teenage party thing was currently happening.

“hey remus, you alright?” you asked loudly, trying to talk over the music that was bouncing off the walls.

“who? me? yeah.” his words slurred together. “peachy keen” he said. he leaned against the wall and his long fingers gripped onto the bottle like his life depended on it.

it was the night after the full moon and peter had told you that remus got into an argument with james and sirius. chances are it was about something stupid and the boys would come crawling back to remus; they couldn’t live without their moony.

“yeah, that’s totally believable” you looked at remus, he stared back at you with half-open lids as he took another sip from the bottle.

“i think you’ve had enough rem” you attempted to take the bottle of tequila out his hands, he protested at first before loosening his grip, allowing you to take it away from him.

you turned your back to place the bottle on the table and when you turned back, you catch remus with a cigarette and a lighter in hand.

“seriously?” you scowled.

“don’t mention the twats name” he mumbled, the cigarette in between his slightly chapped lips. he lit it then took it between his slender fingers, releasing it from his mouth and a cloud of grey smoke fell out his mouth effortlessly.

maybe it was the firewhiskey talking, but remus looked extremely fit. merlin, the things you’d do to be in the place of the ciga—

“y/n?” remus interrupted your promiscuous thoughts. “did you hear me? i asked if you wanted a hit.” he mumbled while he waved the cigarette in your face.

“hmm? oh, no thanks” you responded cluelessly. you watched as he took another hit.

“i love this song!” remus exclaimed as fernando by ABBA began playing “dance with me, y/n.” he threw his cigarette in a random cup of punch and grabbed your hands, and you just couldn’t say no.

you laughed at him lowly, he was a horrible dancer. it was as if he had no control over his limbs. he swayed his head to the beat of the song. you adored his shaggy hair that was perfectly sprawled all over his head as if the gods precisely placed every strand. you admired him as he danced, his scars made him all the more beautiful.

“there was something in the air that night. the stars were bright, fernando” remus sung as he spun you around.

remus pulled you chest to chest and rested his arms on your shoulder and you wrapped your arms around his torso.

“they were shining there for you and me. for liberty, fernando” he continued to sing.

you held him closely, the subtly woodsy smell of his cologne and his heartbeat brought you comfort. as he hummed to the song, you couldn’t help but feel an oasis of serenity, like you and remus were the only two people in the world.

yes, he was drunk, but something about his actions seemed genuine; the way he rested his chin on top of your head lingered with a sense of sincerity. you felt protected in his arms.

“y/n?” he murmured.

“yeah?” you responded softly.

“i’m drunk—”

“—i know rem” you chuckled.

“i’m drunk, and i hate everyone and everything.” he breathed out. remus pulled away from you, brushed the front pieces of hair away from your face, and said sweetly, “everything but you”.

you smile at him and that must’ve done something because within three seconds, he grabbed the sides of your face and his lips collided with yours, your top lip stuck between his. his lips tasted like the perfect mix honey chapstick with tequila. once again, the world felt empty, just you and remus.

you felt remus’ tongue drag along your bottom lip and you attempted to pulled away only for him to chase your lips. “remus, you’re too drunk for this”, you mumble against his lips.

“but i’m sober enough to know that i want you” his lips grazed yours as he spoke. remus had never been this confident, and that’s how you knew he exactly how drunk he really was.

“remus, come on. you’re not thinking straight, you’re probably going to completely forget about this in the morning” you half-jokingly scowled him, and a part of you didn’t want to stop. but it would have been wrong to continue given how drunk he was.

“how ‘bout i bring you up to your dorm, eh?” you suggested.

he hesitantly nodded his head, and grabbed your hand. as you two squirmed your way through the crowd, you managed to catch a glimpse of peter who had a confused look on his face. the boy nudged james, and gestured towards you and remus. james then nudged sirius, and motioned to the two of you as you disappeared from the party.

he staggered up the stairs, nearly tripping a few times causing you to laugh quietly.

“quit giggling” he playful frowned as he caught his balanced and pulled you towards his room. as you two walked in, remus pointed to a corner i’m the room, which was presumably his side of the dorm.

his side was cleaner than james’ and peter’s, who’s sides were messes, paper scattered around and dirty clothes pile near their beds. sirius’ side was the tidiest of the four, with organized records and a neat side table. remus’ side had a few things strewn around but it was overall fairly tidy. his bed was slightly made, he probably rushed to make in the morning.

remus crawled under his covers comfortable— not even bothering to change into pajamas— and you sat next on his bed, next to him, he was already falling asleep. “i need to go remy, you gonna be okay?” you said softly as you stroked his hair.

he looked up at you half-lidded and remus sleepily shook his head, “can you stay? just for tonight?” he pleaded as he lifted the blanket, gesturing for you to get in.

you’d leave in the morning before he wakes up and he’d forget all about it, you reminded yourself.

you shifted uncomfortably in his twin bed. remus adjusted himself, turning his body to face yours so that there was more space. his pinky grazed yours and you interlocked yours with his.

“goodnight y/n” he whispered, his warm breath hit your face before he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against your lips.

•••

rays of sunshine shone through the windows, and birds sung. you squinted due to the bright sun greeting you, once able to open your eyes, you looked to your side and saw remus; asleep and snoring quietly.

you quietly wiggle out of the blanket, you caught a glimpse of his roommates; sirius was turned on his side with his back to you presumably sleeping, but james and peter were no where to be seen. you tiptoed to the door before—

“where’re you going?” you heard a voice, only it didn’t belong to remus. the question almost sounding like a teasing... sirius.

you slowly turned on your heels and faced something you’d though that you would never see— sirius with messy hair, he laid on his bed, elbows propping himself up.

“hey pads” you smiled and waved awkwardly.

“hiya” he wiggled his fingers as he waved “let’s just get to point, did you and moony shag?” he asked bluntly.

“what—!” you covered your mouth, forgetting to keep quiet and you walked towards him “what? no, he got stupidly drunk last night and nothing happened” you whisper screamed.

“my head hurts hell” a sleepy voice came from the side of the room you just snuck away from. both you and sirius turned your heads and saw remus, who was clutching his head.

remus saw you on sirius’ side of the room and his eyebrows furrowed, “what’re you doing here y/n? did you and sirius... sleep toge—”

“no!” you both shouted.

“please stop yelling” remus said, rubbing his temples.

you could sense the slight tension between the two boys. you remembered that they had a fight and they hadn’t made up yet.

sirius looked at you, then remus, then back to you. “i’m going to go; leave you two alone.” he stated, walking out the room, a bit dramatically.

silence filled the room. you shifted on the balls of your feet while remus was now sitting crisscross against his headboard as he played with his fingers.

“sit?” remus asked and gestured towards his bed. you tread over to his bed and sit right across from him.

“so what happened last night? because honestly, i don’t remember anything, ‘cause if didn’t sleep with sirius, why were you here at—“ he looked at the clock “eight am on a sunday?” he looked at you with sunken and luminous eyes.

“well, i actually slept here.” you said as you played with blanket on his bed.

“uh, like, here here? as in, in my—my bed? with— um— with me?” he began to stammer over his words.

he was so endearing when he was flustered. he fidgets with his fingers or basically anything he could find.

“yes, rem, you asked me to stay last night. and other things happened, i told you that you’d forget about them, and well you did so—“

“i kissed you.” he said, almost surprised at his own words.

“yeah. you did.” you responded. “you— um, remember last night?” you asked.

“parts of it; i remember drinking my body weight times two, i remember dancing to ABBA, and kissing you—“ he paused “and then holding your pinky?” he said with confusion.

you gave a half-suppressed laugh “that’s about everything, the gist of it at least .”

“‘m sorry about last night, i know i was drunk—” his nose scrunched up every few seconds; it was a tic he developed over the years, you noticed it happening whenever he felt sheepish.

“—but, um, but i was being truthful, sort of. with my actions at least. what i’m trying to— what i’m trying to say is that drunk remus does what sober remus doesn’t have the confidence to do” he said softly. remus looked up at you, his irises resembling pools of caramel. “basically what i’m saying is that i like you. and it’s completely okay if you don’t like me back, i understand. i just can’t keep this bottled up or else i’d exp—”

you interrupted him with a kiss, he caught on quickly and kissed you back and cradled your face with his left hand. yours eyes were fully closed with delight as you ran your fingers through the bottom of his hair. your nose bumped against his as the two do you moved your heads, trying to find synchronization and once you did: pure bliss.

drunk remus and sober remus are very different, but you preferred when he was himself and his kisses didn’t taste like tequila.

taglist: @anywherebuthere @keepawaythenargles @myloveforluna click here to be added to my taglist <3

[hornime]

saeko, an angel

you’ll let yourself believe a vain and untrue fairytale that humans can fly among the angels if it means that you can be in her presence for a moment longer.

warnings: gay lol

w/c: 2k

a/n: i’m so in love with her. also this is sfw which goes to show how much i am in love with her.

you crack your eyes open, a bright white light blinding you and forcing you to close them again, the burn settling into your pupils. you wait a minute, letting the red behind your closed eyelids warm to a fiery orange, before trying again, squinting as you let your eyes slowly adjust to the morning sun. and then you see her, through the blurry haze of dawn.

an angel.

you silently blink early tears away, too afraid of moving or making a noise and scaring the divine being away. as bubbles of light start sharpening into crisp clarity, you realize where you are: a hotel bed, with clean white curtains and walls framing a heavenly scene. and you realize what you’re seeing: saeko. so yeah, close enough, you think. an angel.

you remain immobile: your hands are tucked under the pillow and quickly going numb at the uncomfortable position, and the kink in your neck is demanding more and more of your attention as your nerves realize that you’re awake, naturally refusing to give you a mere minute of painlessness. but the aches in your joints and throbbing behind your eyes become secondary as you become transfixed on her, her. her, silently sitting on the edge of the bed and playing with the linen beneath her with the tips of her fingers, only half of her face towards you. she hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet, a serene smile gracing her face as she remembers a joke, something between her and herself. saeko, an angel.

it’s funny, you think, how mom always told me that mornings were times of clarity, times when things make sense. you remember a story she’d tell you when you were little.

“there’s something about the time when half the world is sleeping and the other half wishes they were sleeping,” she used to say, “that makes things make sense. everyone’s too groggy to start thinking their thoughts for the day. so the universe has all of these thought bubbles in the air, floating around, waiting for someone to just pluck it out of the air.”

“like a ballon?” you’d ask.

“yes,” she’d chuckle. “like a balloon. and you can just pluck it out of the air! sometimes, when the universe needs you to realize something, all those thought balloons will come rushing towards you, and they’ll form a big,” she’d spread her arms for emphasis, “big, big cloud of thoughts. and suddenly, everything would make sense. and you’d get the courage to do something that you’ve been wanting to for a while.”

you used to laugh at that story, imagining someone with a giant thought bubble sneaking out of their ears, carrying them up, up into the air. what could someone even be thinking about, you’d wonder, that would make their bubble so big? you couldn’t fathom contemplating something so large and important that you’d worry it could whisk you away into the atmosphere.

but now, laying here in silence, mom’s words were resurfacing to the flesh of your chest, warming it with something that had been burning there for a while, burning with what the universe had been wanting you to realize for quite some time now. 

you were just scratching the surface of what that was threatened to make you weightless, the strings of balloons tugging restlessly at your arms and legs, wishing you’d just let them fly already. wishing you’d just let yourself fly.

you don’t even realize your eyes are closing until you glance back up again, at the angel perched next to you, wingless yet still able to show you the wonders of the sky. saeko, an angel.

you study her for who-knows-how-long, noting the sheer beauty before you, so delicate yet strong you worry it’ll break itself or break you from the weight of its magnificence. she doesn’t even know, you register, she doesn’t even know that each moment around her is a blessing.

and you know for a fact that each moment is a blessing, because angels are blessings, and she’s an angel. somewhere in the murky depths of moral ambiguity, between drops of bitter vodka from a teenage birthday party and stolen quarters from the mall fountain, there is a glow of truth and irrefutable certitude: that she is an angel. saeko, an angel. 

and you, blessed.

wisps of blonde hair curl from her forehead to her jaw, whispering words in gold that you can only partially translate into a hymn of some kind, its rhythm vibrating along the headboard of the bed and prodding at your ears. you wish to brush them behind her ears, so cliche, she’d say, just so you can see more of that heavenly face. god, you groan internally, why’d you make her so fucking perfect? how’s that fair to any of us mortals? how’s that fair to me?

you trail your eyes down the bridge of her nose, slanted perfectly. you’ve never really thought about what the perfect nose bridge would be, but you know without a doubt that she has it. of course she does. saeko’s perfect. saeko, an angel.

and before you can help yourself, you’re tracing the curve of her lips, plump and pink and oh-so-kissable. you’d drown in those lips if you tried: visions of how they stretch into cheeky grins and purse into pouts could flood your mind if you let them. and you don’t let them, at least not as often anymore, especially since her lips can be really distracting, and last time you thought about them you were driving, and saeko shrieked in laughter when you called her telling her the reason there’s a new dent on the side of the car. 

“we can’t both be bad drivers!” she’d giggled. “that’s feeding into the gay stereotype!”

“it’s not my fault,” you’d grumbled, “that i can only concentrate on one thing when i’m behind the wheel.”

“that ‘thing’ should be the road! not my lips!”

“yeah, i know! but ‘i kissed a girl’ was on the radio and then i thought about kissing a girl and that girl was you and then one thing led to another and...”

the corners of your lips turn up at the memory. although you had been pretty pissed about having to pay for a repair, saeko proceeded to try and fix the dent herself with a plunger since she has a vendetta against auto shops because “they’ll take advantage of pretty things like you” and “motorcycles aren’t that different from cars anyway, so its fine.” and she was sure to give you some quality time with the lips that you’d been so distracted by, so even the fact that your insurance company had upped your rates hadn’t bothered you too much.

the strings of your thought balloons dangle in the air, glowing in the sunlight streaming through the window. you wonder how saeko hasn’t seen them yet. she must really be lost in thought.

your gaze remains steady on her face, her glory, her beauty. i’m lucky, you decide. so so lucky. you can feel your limbs be lifted slowly into the air. the balloons are getting restless.

you’re almost taken aback when you feel something wet roll down your cheek. are you... crying? seriously? you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to get a hold of your emotions. when’s even the last time i felt this in lo—

“hey.” saeko’s soft voice makes you crack open your eyelids as she runs a hand along your hair. “are you okay? you’re crying.”

you smoosh your face further into the pillow. “i don’t know,” you mumble through the comforter.

she repositions herself on the bed so that she’s sitting criss-cross towards you, leaning forward to bring her face closer to yours. “are you on your period?”

“no,” you respond immediately. you nuzzle further into the sheets, but poke your head out again. “wait, i’m not sure. what day is it?”

“the 21st.”

“oh,” you roll over onto your back, stretching your arms out hoping that she’ll hug you. “then maybe.”

saeko obliges to your silent request, crawling her way over and straddling the blanket over your legs before resting the top half of her body on yours. “i knew it,” she whispers into your neck.

you don’t dare look her in the eyes. you know that mortals will disintegrate if they look directly at an angel. you read that in a percy jackson book or something.

but the thought balloons are yanking at your arms, forcing your fingers to run down her spine and through her hair. i must be insane, you think. i’m insane to think that i’ll ever be enough for her. 

she’s an angel, you remind yourself to no avail. wingless, but can still fly. and you are nothing but a human, rooted to the ground by gravity and inevitable death. you’d be a fool to think that you’d ever be enough; after all, what bird would choose to stay on the ground when it can explore a limitless sky?

but you are a fool. you know that now, even if you were in denial before. you’ll let your delicate and fragile thought bubbles carry you into the air and bask in the temporary feelings of freedom before they pop and you crash and burn through the atmosphere. you’ll let yourself believe a vain and untrue fairytale that humans can fly among the angels if it means that you can be in her presence for a moment longer.

you most certainly are a fool, because you let your thought bubbles wrap their strings around you like a harness, pull themselves taut, and prepare yourself to jump out into the morning heavens, putting your trust into the wind to carry you alongside her. your toes are dangling across the edge, the open beyond becoming more and more appealing than the safety of the hotel room. you know that there is no do-over once you take the leap, once you try to fly. you’ll either get to fly beside her or you’ll fall to the ground and face an untimely end. but fuck if you aren’t daring, yearning, stupid enough to jump. 

you swallow. there really is no going back from this.

“saeko?” you let the words carry through the stagnant air of the room, filled with the lemony scent of an air freshener and saeko’s shampoo.

“hm?”

“i—” the wind whips widely at your back and at your balloons, sending them into all directions as they maintain their hold on you. it’s compelling you to fall, to throw caution into it and hold tightly to your faith and let go of your tether. you must be crazy because you’ve already made up your mind. this decision shouldn’t be that easy, but you are scarily sure. 

the earth’s roots are retreating back into the grass and your body is free for the first time. you can’t tell if the air will catch you, but it doesn’t matter anymore. you’ll be the first human to fly, even if it kills you. it probably will.

“i love you.” your feet leave ground and find nothing below them. the helium in your balloons is straining against your weight. your breath hitches—maybe this is how your life ends. maybe this is how the illusion that you’d created for yourself, a love between a human and an angel, disappears: shattered like bones on concrete.

you open your eyes. you hadn’t even realized you closed them. they meet a sky of warm brown, glinting with the promise of flight. the brightness of her smile makes the light of the sun pale in comparison, the same sun she’s gotten closer to than you ever will. her nose is dotted with freckles, mirroring the constellations that you’re sure she’s flown through countless times. you can practically see her wings, her halo. your confession, one you thought would land heavily in the space between you, feels like its expanding into something light. something... weightless.

the air seems to grow solid beneath you. it’s like you’ve realized you can fly. you’re starting to think you can.

“i love you, too.” 

she loves you. saeko loves you. 

saeko, an angel.