#But I just can't seem to come up with a proper fic featuring him. So at least writing him in a drabble felt very cathartic.

[timeturner-jay]

Hmm… Quirrel with “wander”?

The fog that had accompanied his wanderings for the last while is thinner here, in this grand hall. There’s only a faint haze to the air now, and if anything, it only serves to make this place seem all the more magnificent, like a lost but cherished dream. It’s the strangest thing – perhaps it’s only the mysterious atmosphere of this ancient station, but Quirrel feels oddly nostalgic as he moves from platform to platform. His feet carry him almost trancelike to the highest one, like it’s a path he’s walked before, and he wonders at this. He brushes a hand across the railing, half-rotten and fungus-eaten as it is, and lingers there, feeling a peculiar sorrow well up inside of him.

He can almost hear the faintest echo of voices, he thinks. Like faraway chatter, the words faded and indistinct. He briefly fancies the idea of a crowd of ghostly bugs going about their business around him, and shakes his head at the absurdity of the thought. He must still be hearing the distant burbling of the foggy caves he just left behind.

Quirrel and the Queen's Station, because his dialogue there makes me feral and unhinged. <3

[thefanficmonster]

Piss off your parents pt.2

PART 1

PART 3

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Turns out, LA is packing way more surprises than you were prepared for.

He's still nursing the same drink he started the night with. Not by choice - he just knows that he might make some serious mistake if he indulges in anything more or stronger. The beer is treating him well.

Then again, if he sees Nate and Y/N making out one more fucking time he might steer to the whiskey.

He feels like a terrible friend, unsure of who he's being more unfair toward of the two. He should be happy for them. Like Sam. He can't take a page from his book, though. He can't be openly supportive and encouraging of the blooming romance between his friends. The most he can do is plaster on a strained fake smile and try to enjoy his night, keeping himself away from them. If he can't be a proper friend, the least he can do is not let his displeasure - and borderline selfishness - swim up to the surface.

Although his features are definitely giving a clear glimpse into the warzone that is his mind. Hard glare, set jaw, gritted teeth, furrowed brows. If Sam wasn't already several rounds deep he'd probably pick up on it instantly.

Thing is, he already has picked up on it. The avoidance, the cold shoulder, short-spokenness. He's been picking up on the clues for months but dared not bring it up. In his head, it makes no sense. To him, it always seemed like Colby and Y/N were the rom-com waiting to happen. Stolen glances, gentle touches, subtle affection, their own love language. All trademark Colby-Y/N stuff. Where Nate came into the equation is unclear to him.

Truthfully, nothing is clear to him right now. Which is why Colby is currently helping him off the table he can't remember climbing onto.

"Come on, dude. You're gonna break something important." He says, steadying his best friend when he hops down too enthusiastically for someone in his state.

Sam slurs a response but is grinning from ear to ear so he can only assume he's enjoying himself enough to not mind Colby gentle-parenting him. But also enjoying himself too much to be trusted and left to his own devices.

Scoping out the hotel club with a quick glance, Colby's gaze thankfully finds Corey. Who it doesn't find is the main culprits responsible for his deteriorating mental state. Where's a shot of whiskey when you need it?

"Mind watching over him for a bit? Imma go get a drink." He yells over the music directly into Corey's ear, nodding to the inebriated blonde who's swaying to the beat of the music without a care in the word. Colby aspires to be him in an hour, the risks of it be damned.

Corey accepts the duty, earning himself a grateful pat on the back from Colby who disappears into the crowd the same instant. He's heading toward the bar, eyeing the bottles lining the wall behind it greedily. He's sees the amber liquids as a sea he's about to drown his worries in.

That is if he can shake them, though.

And, try as he might, he can't.

Surveying the venue a couple more times, he feels a sickening pit settle into his gut at the absence of his two best friends. He can't remember when he lost sight of them nor how, especially since his eyes were glued to her the whole night.

Others would be a lot less concerned with this predicament. I mean, when two people like each other veryyy much, have had several drinks throughout the night and have disappeared from the party, it's pretty clear where they might be and what they might be doing. But Colby doesn't even wanna let his train of thought travel that way. Neither his heart nor his liver can handle that.

But that's when he spots Nate with Sam and Corey. Yet still no Y/N in sight.

Colby decides this calls for a search party.

He checks each and every corner of the club with upmost diligence. She's wearing a little black dress that is for sure to help her blend into the blur of the party with the minimal lighting and packed crowd. It's not a problem for him though, he could spot her from a plane. Which makes his lack of findings all the more concerning.

He eventually takes his search outside the club and into the hotel lobby. Then out on the sidewalk, then in the parking lot. He has soon scoped out the entire perimeter around the hotel without finding a trace of her. He's all out of places to search and chock-full of sickening worry. It's as if she's disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Speaking of smoke...

As he's making his way back to the hotel entrance, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. A small plume of smoke emanating from the cracked open window of one of the club bathrooms. That's when the idea pops up in his head.

He never checked the ladies' room. For obvious reasons, of course.

But his rationality and reasonability were checked clear from his system ten minutes ago when his body entered full panic mode. So...

Still he tries to reason with himself: Play the drunk card. Just accidentally stumbled into the wrong bathroom, that's all. 'I'm not a creep I swear, I just mixed up the doors'. That could work, yeah....

And so, with a quicker pace to his step, he steps out of the humid LA air and into the chillier and more pleasant hotel lobby. He stops for a second under the cold AC breeze to take a breath. Collect himself.

What if it's not her? What then?

That depressing train of thought is interrupted by a slight ping coming from his back pocket. He nearly drops his phone he takes it out so damn fast. He'd sent Y/N a string of messages and even tried calling her a few times, all attempts with no success. Therefore, for a split second, he's hopeful that maybe she's finally replied.

Much to his dismay, it ends up being wishful thinking.

Much more to his dismay....

"Hello Cole. How is Y/N?"

...it's her mom.

It's been eight months since the incident, six since they moved to LA. In that time, Y/N's mom has come around approximately half an inch closer to tolerating him. Mostly because he's her only intel on her daughter since she's so adamant on being stubborn and not talking to her. And Colby is more than happy to be of service, he just wishes....

What exactly?

Wishes they could mend their bridges? Wishes he didn't have to lie on both his and Y/N's behalf? Wishes he didn't feel s fucking guilty?

Wishes it wasn't all a ruse?

Mrs. Y/L/N checks in once every couple of days, often with texts at odd hours like this. She has a lot of night shifts to handle at the hospital so, when she gets downtime is when she stops to reach out with a message to Colby - who she believes is her daughter's boyfriend, mind you - to ask about Y/N.

And he's always been instant with the replies. 2AM, 4AM, 7AM, you name it. Never once has he taken more than a couple minutes to reply. He can't remember sleeping more than two to three hours a night if any since they moved here. He'd blame it on the weather change. Then again, he knows better.

His correspondent noticed this too...

"Why are you never asleep? Is something wrong?" She'd asked him at one point, showing genuine concern which truly warmed his heart. And then broke it right afterwards when he remembered he can't tell her what's wrong. He wishes he could tell her for whatever reason. He has a feeling she'd understand, maybe even like him better because of it. But how could he tell her? The charade needs to be upkept, the show must go on, and he'll just...well, suffer, really.

With a quick confirmation of Y/N's well-being, he continues his venture back into the club, making a quick beeline for the dark hall leading to the bathrooms. And yes, he feels like a creep but no, he can't turn back now.

So, he pushes the door to the women's restroom open.

Thank the heavens, he thinks to himself. For two reasons.

Firstly, because it's a single stall bathroom.

Secondly, because on the sink counter outside the stall sits Y/N and suddenly he's getting deja vu.

Mascara is staining her cheeks, a cigarette is hanging between her lips, her hair is a mess. But she still gives him a smile when she sees him come in. "Hey." She greets him, voice barely above a whisper, "You're not supposed to be here."

Colby quickly locks the door behind him, approaching her with a newfound shake in his knees. Given her state, he's quick to assume the worst. "Jesus Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me."

She shakes her head, a few more strands of her disheveled hair going awry, "Nothing happened, nothing's wrong. I'm just...having fun." She sounds bitter. Not sad, not angry. Just bitter, regretful almost.

For some reason he chucks up to human nature, he feels anger start boiling in that lingering pit in his gut, "Where have you been?"

She motions to the counter below her nonchalantly, slurring a little "Here" in response.

"Where'd you get that?" He asks, nodding at the cigarette between her fingers.

She laughs, whether drunkenly or genuinely he's unsure. "Some girl gave it to me when she heard me crying in the bathroom."

Alarms start goin off once again. She's unaware she's playing him and his sanity like a yo-yo with each spoken word, "Why the fuck were you crying? What happened?!"

Y/N finds the audacity to roll her eyes at him, "Nothing! For fuck's sake, Colby, nothing happened!"

"How can you say that and expect me to believe it? Look at yourself! You're a mess!" He tries subduing his anger but it's impossible. He doesn't know where it's stemming from. Maybe it's all that pent up adrenaline from twenty minutes ago coming loose. Maybe his worry is mixing with the relief and melting into frustration. Maybe he's taking out his bitterness - piled on for months, mind you - on her. Even though she doesn't deserve it. And he knows that.

She deserves the world.

He just doesn't deserve her. And he's yet to come to terms with that.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you." She sasses him, taking the last puff of her cigarette before tossing it out the window.

"You're mascara is running down your face, your hair is all over the place, your lipstick is smeared as fuck. There's a party going on out there but you prefer sitting on cold marble and smoking in a bathroom. You can't tell me there's nothing odd about that." He's losing it, he can feel his sanity slipping from his grip and he can't get a better grasp on it. All he can do is watch as it leaves him.

Y/N, in her usual fashion, is quick to clap back, "You're the odd one! You're fully sober at your own party, angry for whatever reason. You're standing here lecturing me instead of being out there having fun. Oh, and need I remind you, you're in the ladies' room."

He laughs humorlessly. Exhaustedly. "I haven't been on a wild goose chase the whole night for you to...."

"He doesn't want me."

Her words cut him off and cut him deep. The confusion is brief but the pieces fall into place almost immediately.

Nate

"There's no fucking way. You've been all over each other..." He stops himself when he realizes how upset he sounds recollecting all the instances he caught the two in their own world. The pit rattles, a sickening feeling climbing up his throat.

She scoffs, "Yeah, well that's all there is to it. It's all physical. And always prompted by alcohol." A long sigh escapes her lips, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm just disappointed I didn't notice it sooner."

Colby Brock, for once in his life, has been rendered speechless. But he's aware staying quiet isn't an option. So he makes a weak attempt at a consolation, "Y/N, I-"

"Did you know?" She thankfully cuts him off before he can continue word vomiting.

He quickly shakes his head, "No. I swear I didn't. I would've told you."

"Yeah, I know. I know you would've. I just don't know why he told you he liked me when you asked him..." She sighs, picking at the hem of her dress, thankfully oblivious to the sudden paleness of Colby's face.

The sickness gets worse as he remembers his huge mistake. A lie he told months ago.

Y/N had asked him to fight this one battle for her and he still didn't do it, for utterly selfish reasons. She'd asked him for something so simple - ask Nate about his feelings for her, if there were any. And what did he do? He kept his tongue behind his teeth and quietly hoped she'd forget about it. Such a foolish thing to expect from someone completely head over heels in love.

So, when she inevitably checked in to find out the response, he had to lie. Lie and give her false hope he didn't even know was false at the time. There was a devil on his shoulder telling him to tell her the complete opposite but he could never be that evil.

He'd rather drink and sleep his way into coping through it all than watch his best friend be brokenhearted.

In the end it seems he somehow swerved the situation into hitting both those nails on the head. And he completely and utterly hates himself for having done that to Y/N.

The least he can do is come clean.

"I never asked him."

Silence. Fucking crickets. They can hear each other's heartbeats. And he can't bring himself to look up at her, let alone meet her eyes.

It feels like forever before words are spoken between them. She's the one to break the silence with one simple word: "Why?"

He can't tell her why. He doesn't know why.

Actually, you know what, fuck that. He knows exactly why and that's the reason he can't tell her.

"I don't know." He feels like such a coward. But the consequences of the truth terrify him.

"Why did you lie to me?" She doesn't sound angry. He wishes she did. Because the hurt he can hear in her voice is far worse than any furious wrath she could unleash upon him.

"I don't know."

"Fuck that, Colby. You're my best friend, for fuck's sake. You're the last person I'd expect to lie to me and you-"

"You don't wanna know why, Y/N." His restraint is growing weaker. He regrets the words as soon as he says them. He's aware she most definitely not leave it alone now. They're both stubborn, so fucking stubborn. Mules, if you will. Legends say they still reference something they bickered about a decade ago today.

"Yes I fucking do, Colby."

"It could ruin a lot of things."

"It won't."

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't."

"You promise?" He feels horrible asking for a promise from her after having revealed the biggest lie he's ever told her.

Well, second biggest anyway.

But she doesn't second his opinion because her response comes out faster than a bullet, "I promise."

In this moment of honesty, raw and bare honesty, how could he lie? How can he look her in the eyes and not tell her the truth? How can he even look at her? He owes her that much but doesn't know if he has it in himself to do it.

Forcing himself to look up, Colby swears he can feel a sharp pain in his chest. Her eyes are dry of tears by now but the shine remains, accentuated further by the fluorescent lighting. He swears he can feel himself fall for her all over again, even deeper.

"Because I'm in love with you, Y/N."

The crickets are back. The silence is eating away at him. He can feel her slipping through his fingers. Their decade long friendship flashes before his eyes. It feels like he's saying goodbye. To the memories, to the friendship. To the love of his life that never was.

The weight of the realness knocks his head back down, his gaze fixated on the black tiles beneath his feet. Shame, pain, dread and fear are all battling for first place, causing a whirlwind in his brain that nearly knocks him off his balance.

It's astonishing how much it hurts losing something you new you didn't deserve all along.

Tagging: @benbarnesprettygurl @beanredacted

[novelant]

Movie Night

Pairing: Phillip Graves x Fem! Reader

Summary: Feelings for your dad's best friend can't go wrong can it?

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: MDNI: Dom! Graves, unprotected!sex (wrap it before you tap it), P-in-V, implied age gap, some after care, some praise

Reminder: This is purely fiction and will have no correlation to in game character or backstory

A/N: I know that the fic before this is a dad's best friend scenario but shoot me because this is all i have in my drafts that I needed to get out so I can escape the trope. :)

Masterlist Here !!!

Phillip Graves, your dad's best friend, was taking a break from military duties and decided to stay with your family for a few weeks. He was always a busy man so you two rarely met, but you had heard a lot of good things about him from your dad. While watching some late night horror movies in the living room, you heard Graves’s deep, raspy voice coming from behind.

“You are still up this late?” He asked while sitting down next to you with a cold beer in hand. Jumping from his sudden presence behind me. You turn to see Graves sit down beside me. "Can't sleep." You lift the blanket covering me offering him some to keep warm. "Why are you up so late?" You enquire. "Can't sleep either," he took a sip from the cold beer while leaning his elbow on the arm of the couch. He looked at you, and a wave of heat washes over me, feeling your warm breath.

Graves shifted a bit to make himself comfortable, sitting with his legs crossed and one arm over the back of the couch, almost blocking me in with his massive presence. Feeling his body so close to mine. My cheeks flare up. The only thing hiding it is the darkness of the room. You shift your body closer to his to keep warm. Your head is lightly resting on his shoulder. Your eyes focused on the movie playing on the TV.

I've always had a thing for my dad's best friend but it's wrong, so wrong. I've not met him occasionally as he's busy but he's a charmer and won me over.

As Graves takes another sip from his beer, the aroma of the alcohol tickles my nose, and my mind drifts to thoughts of his smooth, soft skin as you lean closer to him. Your breath hitches when he slides his arm to rest on my lower back. "Still single?" he asks with a bit of a smirk, staring at me from the corner of his eye. "Hmm... Oh... yeah, put off guys for a while." You shrug but equally as shocked by his question. "Just annoying and they don't care for girls like me anymore." Pulling back from his shoulder. Muttering, "Sorry l should've asked to rest on you."

"What do you mean by 'girls like you'?" he asks and reaches out to place one of his fingers under my chin. You look up to see his sharp, handsome features as his eyes scan every inch of me, the intensity and heat of his gaze causing a stirring sensations within me. He seems genuinely concerned by what you said. The feeling of his fingers lifting my chin gives me butterflies in my stomach. You go nervous, he's so handsome as his blue eyes pierce into me.

"I mean girls who want a proper relationship, want all the romantic stuff. Guys nowadays just want to have sex and leave. They don't want romantic stuff." You explained to him. "So you want a committed, serious relationship?” his smile softened and he lets go from my chin, taking another sip from his beer while leaning back on the couch, stretching and letting out a small grunt in satisfaction. He raises his eyebrows as he looks back to me, "and the guys you've recently been dating haven't been giving you that?", "Yeah. I do . I want to go on dates and be loved. And you're right... The other guys haven't given me that." You give a weak smile and lean back,  resting my neck on his arm which is stretched over the back of the couch. Graves shifts his arm to drape its length around you as you lean against him. He takes a deep breath into your hair, relishing the aroma of your perfume as it lingers in his nose. You can feel his body slowly relaxing as he begins to drift into thought.

“Tell me," he says softly while looking out the window, "what are your thoughts on dating older men?", "... Older men... I umm I've never thought about it." His cologne and the alcohol mixed together lingers in my nose. A comforting and relaxing aroma you relax further into his body. "Would you ever want to try it out?" he asks while turning back to look at you. His eyes narrow on your beautiful face and your full lips as he brings his lips closer to yours. His voice is low, almost a whisper, "would you ever want to date someone as old as me?"

"I've never thought about any of it. I've dated people my age the whole time." you realise him checking you out. Getting closer to me as he speaks. You look up into his blue eyes, seeming to draw me in.  "Well," Graves lifts one of his hands, lifting your chin once again so you can look up at him. His touch stirs something deep within me, making it hard to breathe as you feel my heart beating out of my chest. My body feels a sudden rush of heat as the scent of alcohol and his cologne linger in the air.

"Could we try it?" he asks softly while bringing his lips just inches from your own. My tongue darts out to wet my lips instinctively, when his hand lifts my chin again. "Phillip... You're my dad's best friend... I'm his daughter... It's not right." You want this and you're very aware that he knows that you do as well.

"Does that really matter?" he asks while tilting his head to the side and letting his other hand come around you as both of his hands now frame your head, gently massaging your cheeks. You can feel his breath on your lips as his voice grows deeper and his gaze grows darker, "Is there anything stopping us but our minds?" He leans in slightly closer, his lips just barely skimming past yours as your breath grows erratic.

"Phil..." He lets out a small grunt as he pulls away from your lips, his breath quick and shallow. The air feels heavy around the two of us, the heat of his breath still lingering. His eyes search yours as a small flicker of uncertainty and doubt creeps into his eyes. "I shouldn't..."

You couldn't hold back anymore. You take his cheek in my hand and press my lips to his. Taking it slowly but it felt right like his lips were meant to fit with mine.

Graves whole body relaxes as his lips eagerly meet yours, his breath becoming more shallow as his tongue darts out to meet you. His hands drop down to your waist and he pulls you into him, your warm body now pressed up against him. His lips part, his breath growing quicker and hotter as he kisses you harder. Pulling away from the kiss. A smile tugging on your lips. Finding yourself situated on his lap now. I end up getting shy and hiding my face in his neck. He lets out a small grunt as you slip onto his lap, his hands now finding their way to hold your hips. The heat from your bodies mingled as you buried your face into his neck. The smell of his cologne and alcohol still lingered from your kiss, both mixed together as his hands move up to caress your back and sides in long, slow strokes.

Going all shy on Graves. Feeling his breath on my neck his lips ghosting over it. The lone kiss planted down my neck and onto my shoulder as well as his hands stroking my hips and back. The feel of Graves's warm lips against the sensitive skin of your neck sends hot ripples down your back and a wave of heat washes over you. He continues to kiss the soft skin of your neck, his lips now moving back up to your shoulders. His hands move to the small of your back, squeezing softly and pressing you into him. The smell of his cologne fills the air once more, this time more intense than before.

"Phillip..." you mumbled into the crook of his neck. I can hear the murmur of the movie you were watching in the background but your focus is on his lips kissing you neck. "Shh... it's okay." he whispers softly, his lips kissing your neck again. His hands run gently up and down your back, holding you closely as his lips slowly move back up towards your ears.

The movie playing in the background suddenly goes silent, the two of you are now in your own little world. His lips now finding the skin of your face again as his hands reach under your shirt and starts stroking the skin of your back and sides.

Feeling his calloused hands touch my soft skin sends a jolt of electricity up my spine. The blush on my cheeks deepened to a darker red. You emerge from the crook of his neck when his lips find my face again. The feeling of his hands and his slowly lust darkening blue eyes and me on his lap is a lot to take in. As your lips meet his again, the two exchange a long passionate kiss, feeling each other's bodies pressed against one another. The kiss was slow and teasing at first, but now grows faster and hot, your tongues twisting and twining together as you each taste the other's lips. Graves' hands move further up towards your waist, bringing you even closer to him, feeling your heartbeat in your pulse pounding against him. Graves' face heats up as you kiss him, your lips tasting so sweet as he kisses back. Your hands wrap around his neck as he pulls you slowly into him, his own hands coming to wrap around your body.

The two linger on this kiss, their bodies pressed together as their mouths slowly part and Graves holds you steady by your waist on his lap, with your legs wrapped around his waist Another kiss ensues starting off slowly and then forms into tongues fighting for dominance. Amongst the heightened moment I lightly grind my hips against his lap. Graves' grip on you becomes tighter as your kiss grows more intense, your tongues locking together as your bodies grow hotter. Your grinding against him sparks a reaction within Graves as his body begins to grow harder beneath your body. 

His hands move up and down your sides, gently squeezing them as your lips separate for another breath. Your mouth opens as Graves begins to give small bites to your lips as his hand moves up to your chest and starts sliding under your shirt.

You start to undo the buttons on his light blue shirt in a haste to take it off. Your hands roamed his bare and sculptured chest, until they rested behind his neck once again. The kiss only gets more passionate but slower to take in the most of it all. As you undo the buttons on his shirt, you feel his muscles flex underneath his skin as he lets out a small grunt against your neck. Your hands roam up and down his chest as your lips grow more impatient, wanting more of each other.

Graves let's out a soft moan as the two kiss, his lips pulling away from yours for another breath. It was only for a moment but his hands begin to drift down your body until they reach the button of your jeans. Feeling his hands rake down my body until they reach my button of my jeans I let out a strangled whimper the feeling of his rough hands working wonders on my skin. Your hands are still roaming his bare upper body tracing his abs and scars which adorn his chest exploring each one as your body slowly grinds on his lap. He is in complete ecstasy as he feels your breath against his bare skin, your hands grazing over every curve of his muscle.

Graves fingers swiftly pop open the button to my jeans, his hands still caressing other parts of your body while he does. Before hastily removing them. His lips sucked mine. Hands roaming and groping each other’s hot bodies while filthy noises spilled from our mouths. “Please..” you whimpered, “I need you— I need to have you.” He pulled away slightly, panting heavily. His dark siren eyes held me captive. My eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, lips burning from how roughly he kissed you. He was all teeth and tongue, kissing with the intention to take, to seize. As if you weren't the only one dreaming, aching for this moment. "God..." Graves gasped for a breath, your body grinding against him as he leaned forward slowly to kiss you again. His eyes searched your's as he took in more of your warmth, your lips tasting sweeter each time.

His hands gripped onto your waist, pulling your body tighter against him as you could feel his breath in your ears as he whispered. "We shouldn't be doing this..." his voice had a slight edge to it as he suddenly pulled away from your lips. My cheeks flushed with heat, lips slightly parted as you try my best to find the right words to respond. My mind didn't seem to comply with that request as you went blank and simply let out a sharp breath in embarrassment. All resemblance of self-control broke loose as you removed your hands from his body to hastily tear your top off with one swift move, desperate for skin to skin contact, leaving me half bare with my bra  as the sole obstacle. Graves's breathing grows faster as your top slumps off your body, your skin looking so smooth and inviting. His eyes grew wider as you pulled off your top, revealing a bra that was just hiding your breasts.

The sight of you in just your underwear and bra was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen and it took everything in him not to rip the bra off as well. He looked at you with a hunger in his eyes as he leaned forward and started kissing your neck, your breasts pressing against him even more. Graves' hands travel down to your ass and give it a quick squeeze. He lifts you slightly and places you down so your back is now on the sofa. He leans over you and starts attacking your breasts and body with kisses. His kisses tickle and you start squirming underneath him. His spare hand comes down and pins you in place by the waist.

The feeling of Graves's hands squeezing down on your rear sends a wave of warm heat up your back. His tongue flickers out, licking all around your neck and down to your breasts, his breath hot and intoxicating as he continues to kiss down your body. As you squirm against him, his other hand grabs onto your wrists, holding both of them down as he continues to kiss down your stomach. His lips start to tease the line of your underwear, kissing and biting softly and teasingly. His hands ran up the backs of your legs, causing you too shiver in anticipation. His breath was close to where you wanted him and you whined in response, tilting your hips back ever so slightly. At the movement Graves clicked his tongue and slapped my ass. 

“This pussy’s mine, y’hear?” He growled a possessive tone in his voice, fingers digging into the sides of your waist, keeping you from moving away from him. "Look at you doll. So eager for me, huh?" One finger gently traced along the length of your clothed slit. "Hmm and so wet too." and you keened, trying to push my hips back to gain more friction, but his other arm wrapped around your hips, pinning them to the couch. Already, your legs were trembling as his thumb brushed against your clothed clit. You bit my lip, fingers pressing into the cushion below you as you felt him lift up the soaked underwear and pull them to the side. 

That quick slap on your ass made your body shiver, sending a wave of heat all the way through your body for a moment. It was as if you'd hit the switch and your body grew even more desperate for Graves's touch. His breath fell against the line of your underwear, now growing even hotter as his fingers moved underneath them and you could feel his breath tickling you. His thumb brushed against your clit, and you could tell he was teasing you on purpose.

"P...hil..." You breathe out "Stop teasing."

You grab his wrists which are still pinning you down as some sort of support while he is teasing you. Your back can't help but arch off the sofa at the sensations you're feeling and your head tilts back pressing deeper into the cushion supporting it. His body moves up so you can feel his breath on your neck but his hand remains brushing against your clit and pussy. You can feel his hardness pressed against your inner thigh as he reconnects your bodies after what felt like hours but in reality was only minutes. Your words have no effect on him now, Graves seems to be enjoying himself as you beg for him to stop teasing you. You feel even more desperate as the pressure of his hand moves even closer to you, your body instinctively arching up and wanting an even bigger sensation.

Graves is now leaning in closer than you've felt before as his body touches you intimately. The feeling of his hardness pushing against your inner thighs is driving you wild with anticipation as your back presses back even more into the cushions. His lips connect with my neck once again and leave dark purple marks in their wake from his relentless attack. Your hands slide into his blonde hair and lightly tug at him while a quiet whimper escapes my lips. You wriggle again to try and achieve some friction between you both. Hoping he'd take the initiative to continue this dirty act. Your small tugs on his hair bring him back into the moment with you, your body's movements letting him know just how much you want him. The lack of friction and the teasing drives you so crazy that the sound of your whimper is like music in his ears.

His hands grip onto your thighs as he shifts his body lower, his own breathing growing heavier even in this moment. He pulls you closer to your body using your waist, getting rid of the small gap between your bodies. Graves dip his hand lower once again before slowly pressing into me closing the gap completely between us. He gives you a little bit of time to adjust to the intimate moment before he begins to slowly move. All while your head is still thrown back and your mouth is locked in an open gasp. The feeling of him on your inner walls felt tight but you eventually got through the initial pain before the lust took over.

The moment you realize what is happening is almost too much for your body to handle. The feeling of him pressing into you sends a sharp tingle up your spine as the sensation grows and the pain gives way to the most intense feeling you've ever felt. Graves makes sure to take things slow at this step, trying not to hurt you as you gasp against the couch, your body now completely enraptured in desire. Graves continues to take things slow as he watches your mouth stay open in pleasure, your body growing hotter with each movement. Your hands are clamped on the couch, still needing support for the motions he is making. The lack of friction and the slow speed drives you crazy at how intimate this moment is, your breaths coming in and out in small rapid breaths while you're now trapped between the couch and his body.

As you adjust to the feeling, Graves slightly starts increasing the speed and your body tries to keep up. Your arms start to strain under the constant pressure so you have to let them relax off of the couch itself. This also means Graves gets deeper and deeper with every movement and by the time you're nearly about to reach the climax of your body, you're so used to the feeling that your breathing has picked back up. The slow pace and the gentle feeling in this moment makes it hard to believe that something this intimate is with someone like him.

The moment hits before you even realize it, and the feeling of you reaching your climax is the most intense sensation you've ever felt. Graves slows down even further, the last few motions making your body shake on the couch as your eyes are squeezed shut tight and you feel yourself getting overwhelmed by the sensation.

Fully collapsing on the sofa once you both reach your climax, Graves pulls out and lies on top of you. Holding you through the moment that just happened. Giving you pepper kisses on your face and neck. Your breath slows down from the rapid breath from being in the act you both did. Graves wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close, kissing you all over your face and neck. Your body is exhausted and your breathing slowly returns back to normal. His hand stroking your hair and whispering in your ear, "You did amazing for me doll and "Couldn't have been any more perfect sweetheart." which makes you feel cared about, it seems to bring back the comfort that was missed during the more aggressive moments.

In an all dazed out state, your bodies pressed together. You whispered in his ear, jokingly, "Did that just happen."

"It did... How do you feel?" Graves whispers in reply, his body still pressed next to yours as he strokes your neck softly. He sounds genuinely curious about how you feel about what just happened with him, having a slight tone of nervousness in his voice. "I feel tired but I feel good." You lean up a little to give his a chaste kiss on his lips. You feel my eyes getting heavy and sleep threatening to take over. "Me too... Are you ready to rest?" Graves whispered, noticing how tired you seemed to be as well. Your body pressing back against him and your eyes starting to get heavy made you feel even warmer as you lay against his broad chest. Continuing to whisper "Hmm I think I am. But I think the comfort of my bed will be lovely."

"Then let's get you to bed then." Graves said softly, his fingers stroking through your hair still. He started to get up quickly after that response and took your body in his arms, standing up with you in them as he quickly walked you towards the bed in the bedroom. You could see the slight blush on his cheeks from the activity and how excited he was to spend time with you after what you've just done together. Getting to the bed, Graves sets you down on the comforters surface letting you lay down. He crawls in with you, making sure to hold you close as he pulls the covers over the two of you.

With that, he lays next to you, his body pressed next to yours and holds you close to him. The blankets are heavy and the heat of the room is now much warmer with both your bodies under the blankets. "You alright?" Graves whispered, the heat and the weight of the covers making him wonder how you felt after all this time of being together. He laid a gentle hand on your hips, softly caressing your skin while you were still catching your breath. He pulled you slowly closer to him so that his arm was fully wrapped around you, and your bodies were now lying almost on top of each other under the blanket. "Hmm much better now..." You trail off. His warm body heat lulled me off to sleep. His hand caressing me creating a soothing atmosphere. "How are you? I never asked" You ask your voice a whisper. Your hand caressing his chest. "I'm good... Better than good." Graves said as he laid his head back onto the pillow, the softness of your voice and the feeling of your hands caressing him made him feel even more at ease. He sighed happily as he got a tiny bit more comfortable, getting closer to you so that he was holding you like a body pillow. It almost felt like you were a couple, cuddling together in a warm bed.

Masterlist Here !!!

[overlordofships]

oooo what got u interested in hookfang and snotlout as a ship. im interested to know :0 (if u still ship them haha)

I VERY MUCH DO >:3

Okay so when I was a baby fandom lad and just getting into HTTYD I remember shipping all the riders with their dragons, but back then the fics for that was like. 99% toothcup, 1% toothcup feat. other ships. So I could NOT for the life of me find any other dragon/rider ship fics solely for, say, Fishlegs/Meatlug, and then by extension I just didn't have any fuel for my shipping

Nowadays I'm more competent in making my own fuel. But for shipping any dragon and rider in HTTYD that is not Toothcup you have to watch the series to understand, since the pairings that aren't them don't get a lot of attention in the movies proper (henceforth all of this will be under the cut for how long it is):

First off, I will be talking about canon shippable moments. In the first season, there's an episode where Hookfang has a toothache (it's the one where the forge changes into a dentist, because Gobber doesn't have any reason to make weapons anymore) (sorry I forget episode names). There's a part near the end where big, macho man Snotlout breaks down in TEARS pleading for Hiccup to stop Gobber, outright sobbing the words, "He's gonna kill my dragon!" I remember just rewatching that episode over and over to the point of pissing off my mom and her telling me to watch something else, because it was the BIGGEST piece of non-Toothcup food I'd gotten fed up to that point.

The second season had an episode of Snotlout working Hookfang to the bone, to where Hookfang's flame went out and he got deathly ill. Snotlout CRIED, genuinely cried AGAIN over this (and this time it got called out by Astrid) and when he thought the Fireworm Queen had killed him, he just looked fucking BROKEN, and he even said "You're more than just another sword" (which I think is/was a line in our very small hooklout shipping community used to emphasize their relationship - they see each other not just as weapons to an end, they're more to each other than their strength even if that's what originally drew them to each other as dragon and rider).

Next up - this episode is Netflix-only which is heartbreaking for all you who don't have it. But there's an episode in either the first or second season of Race to the Edge (can't remember) where not only does Snotlout think Hookfang is leaving him (and the twins play it as a fucking love triangle tragedy the whole time) but he straight-up tells Hiccup that if he can't ride Hookfang, he doesn't want to ride a dragon at all.

I reference all of these to say that there's just something special to me about two people (or one person and one dragon) who are normally cold, standoffish and outright cruel to other people, but become absolutely soft and vulnerable when it comes to each other. There's a difference there to me between that and how Hiccup is nice to everyone, but is just a special nice to Toothless. (I am still a very hard Toothcup shipper, don't get me wrong, but Hooklout at this point has firmly overtaken them as my OTP for HTTYD)

All of that said, because we unfortunately cannot see into Hookfang's mind beyond the obvious (he is a dragon and cannot talk - which is ofc a roadblock in one of my fics, but still) one of my favorite things to do is imagine the canon show but with my Shifter-verse, so here are some headcanons for anyone who wants them featuring Shifter!Hookfang and Snotlout:

Hookfang uses Monstrous Nightmare courtship, which involves either submitting himself to someone stronger or making himself seem tougher/stronger. All the times he hurts Snotlout are his unfortunate attempts at flirting. (Related: He also regularly, casually says, "If this goes wrong, I want Snotlout to kill me" and he also thinks that's flirting, too)

In my Shifter AU the episode with the Fireworm Queen turns out differently - he gets to that point because he thinks he's not enough for Snotlout. Maybe a snide comment from Spitelout got him there, or maybe something happened in a battle. Whatever it is, he does it himself - and then, later, when he's better, when Snotlout is all bawling and asking what the hell he was doing, Hookfang says, "I wanted to be good enough to be your dragon." and that would be big since in my Shifter-verse I think that wouldn't be something the dragons would say lightly

Related to number 1, whenever Snotlout does something really impressive strength or intelligence-wise, Hookfang just becomes this gooey, flirty, flustered mess. It's adorable to watch, but very confusing for poor Snotlout

The episode in Race to the Edge where Snotlout has to do all those trials to be Mala's king? Hookfang insists Snotlout do it because he will NOT stand for anyone implying his mate couldn't survive something (and Snotlout plans to turn Mala down afterward anyway)

Incidentally, Hookfang acts like Toothless is the most annoying dragon ever when he talks about Hiccup... But if you let him Hookfang could give rants twice as long and just as sappy, if not sappier

Somehow, despite that, Snotlout WOULD NOT GET IT. He teases the hell out of Hiccup and Toothless, but prior to Hookfang actually using real words to say to Snotlout that he's in love with him, Snotlout would have 0% understanding that Hookfang is into him (that's also a trope I love, btw: two people very-obviously smitten with each other but one of them has absolutely no idea)

Hookfang just casually leaning on/draping himself over Snotlout in his human form, a quiet way of saying to everyone around him "This is mine" (and when they get together Snotlout starts casually sitting in Hookfang's lap)

Related to the above: Remember when I said Hookfang would casually say "If this goes wrong, I want Snotlout to kill me"? After they get together, Snotlout starts returning that phrase with, "Not if you kill me first". All the dragons think it's cute but the humans are just like "....what-"

They're also the most fucking dramatic when they get together. Hookfang sweeps Snotlout into his arms, DIPS him and then presses a big kiss to his lips. Right in front of everyone else. (Compared to Hiccup and Toothless who went out to the cove to confess to each other, and Fishlegs and Meatlug who quietly got together without even noticing)

Basically, what got me into them is imagining these idiotic, self-confident, sappy, oblivious, simpy morons looking at each other and saying "That one" and then somehow taking years to realize their feelings are requited despite them each being the only one the other will truly be vulnerable for

now I leave you with this screencap from the end of the Fireworm Queen episode

[powerfultenderness]

ah! i adore this!

the world building is so much fun! i loooove faeries and fae magic! so i love that the princess is a skilled magic user and student! unable to hide her thirst for knowledge even in her disguise! the princess posing as a commoner was giving me a touch of princess jasmine vibes, but a little reversed when the princess slips up and says something könig associates with his squire that makes him pause. (and what an lol moment as she tries to cover it up, "it's a common saying!").

i also really like the friendships between the "squire" and König, the princess and König, and even the princess and kruger. i always love me some kruger, and him making crude, but funny, sexual jokes would definitely have me laughing. not in a cute 'tee hee' lady kind of way, more of the snorting scoff, but i have a feeling that's just the kind of response he's looking for! if only könig weren't around, he'd stand way more of a chance lol!

and könig similarly, though far less crudely, jokes with the princess in a way that shows just how familiar/close they are! "kindly piss off" and their whole flirty dance scene! ("lady killer -> i have killed no ladies!"🤣) So, i get the feeling that both men aren't so skittishly proper around her because she's not some dainty just come into her age 20 year old princess. it's implied that neither would be so familiar with her around her father or company, but they still treat her like a real person when they are alone with her! and as someone who is, ahem, let's say on the older side of this fandom, i am sooo happy to see a Reader character that's older, but also her age is not seen as anything of note (no one, not even herself, calling her a spinster or an old maid, or telling her she should be married with children already. in fact, it all seems very normal!)

"Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded." never doubt the fae, and what a reward! 🤭 ahaha, but for real, the love confession was so cute! könig going to his squire, who he thinks hasn't even started dating lol, for advice! 😆

omg, könig's dirty talk getting sweet! "Can't believe you feel this fucking good. All our b-banter, our back and forth for this to turn into true love. I love you princess." he's such a simp, i love him! that + what he said at the dance, that he will not/has not attached his name to any other maiden! ah! könig completely and utterly in love is so good!

-oh! and könig only realizing that she kept some of her facial features through her glamour! i would like to imagine when she first came up with the disguise that people were a little confused why könig, the biggest and strongest knight in KorTac, allowed such a bookish boy to squire for him. and könig shrugging like, "there's just something about him that i like."

Another truly wonderful fic! ❤️

Rewarded

Fandom: Call of Duty/ Fantasy AU Pairing: Knight!König x Princess!Female reader Summary: You've been living a double life to get close to the kingdom's blood Knight. Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, L-bomb, friends to lovers, pining, magic, p in v, creampie, smut.

"Squire! Where the devils are you?"

You came running through the stables, your cloak, cardinal red flowed and swirled around your form. You nearly tripped over a bucket, dust and manure kicking up behind you. Maybe you would have reached your destination more swiftly had you not been carrying that book about.

"I say, squire!"

You stopped just short of your Knight, only bumping just slightly into his polished armor. You had done quite the job this morn! You could make out your own reflection in the metal breast plate or rather the reflection you had created.

"I am here sire. I made great haste through the halls but to no avail I am proven to be late once more." Your knight, the one you bet on every joust, a victor, a champion merely looked down at your presence. What König saw was a scrawny squire boy, moppy hair, holes along the thighs of your leggings, boots a size too big and shrouded by a far too portly cloak. The complete opposite of your true identify.

"You need to put that brain rot away, where it belongs. In the catacombs, in the libraries, down in the archives and not in the stables, boy!" König tsked you through his helmet, only enough room to see his gorgeous blue eyes sparkle behind them. One this occasion he had smeared some coal along his face, making the two orbs stand out like stars in the night sky.

You had often wondered what that would be like, oh how you enjoyed his company! To lay beneath the stars out in the mossy valley, just you and your knight, enjoying the silence. Counting stars, making out constellations. Sharing knowledge. Passing the time. He might even one day choose to hold your hand in the misty dark.

"But it not just some tome, sire! Theses are ancient texts, a forgotten language that I refuse to let drift along like wood in the river. Someone took the time to write all of this down, is it not in favor of knowledge to not let that die on deaf ears?"

"You think too much for such a squire. Come now, put that down and help me."

"But sire--"

"Oh no, boy! Not that 'knowledge before the blade' stuff again. Just do as you are told."

You did not wish to set the book down on some filthy hay, König's pride and joy of a black and grey speckled horse, Sapphire, had recently relieved herself on, you kicked over a half full buck and set it down.

"Aye 'ave you been in here long?" The captain, John Price announced with his booming voice into the stables. It never failed to make you jump, stepping on the armored foot of the Knight. He toked on a cigar from some other realm, it smelled sickly sweet it made your nose twitch.

"Yes sir, all evening, why?"

"The princess… she is feared missing. Again. The king of course has asked me to keep it quiet but I thought maybe she were out here with you." John gave you a sneering look as you kicked around some dirt.

"Nay. And why should the princess be out here with the likes of me, then?" König retorted.

He gave you a bump when he heard you curse in the presence of the captain.

You knew why he'd asked, König did as well. It is simply because--

"You two are well aquatinted. Everyone in the kingdom knows that! If she were not lusted after by suitors here or in the next realm, courted by Sebastian Kruger himself but you did not hear such from me, I would say she would on your arm, no?" Price chuckled out plumes of smoke.

"Hardly. We are merely friends. And no, I have not seen her grace."

"Very well. The scouts will be looking over the grounds, if you see her, let her know she is requested to the box."

While they chatted about the celebratory joust, being small and hidden, were able to slink away. An empty stable, no prying eyes, you revealed yourself in the corner. You whisked off the glamour magic that had made you König's squire boy. Rounding your bare shoulders, holes were daintily carved out in a wave like design that carried across your chest. Embroidery details of flowers and leaves sewn delicately through the sheer puffy sleeves.

With your head held high, you hurried out of said stable, outside of them truly, and feigned your innocence. You even hummed a little tune as you passed by, loud enough for if not one but both were to hear, to keep your secret hidden.

"Aye! My lady Y/N, where have you been?" Price barked and proceeded to bow as you made your way back to these men as if you were not just there moments ago.

"My dear captain, is it illegal for me to strut about my own kingdom? Since when?"

"That is not what I meant, I-I merely was concerned for your well being. Foreigners have been known to steal royalty at such large events. Held ransom or far worse, my dear."

"And you think the great König would have allowed that?" You scoffed, leaning an arm onto König's shoulder like a foothold. The gentle rattle of his armor was cool against your sheer sleeves. "I think not sir. I was just strolling about, enjoying the days warmth and as you can see, no harm fell on me."

"Very well," Price announced, hiding his cigar from your dress. "When you are finished here, Sebastian will be waiting for you in the box. Good luck König."

"Yes, König," you taunt, playfully of course. This double life thing was getting quite tiresome but this was the bed you made and you must lay in it. "Very good luck."

"Have you already placed your bets, my lady?" König asked, banter in his voice as well as he stroked Sapphire's tidy mane.

"First thing I did this morning!" actually the first thing you did this morning was use a bit of magic, not too much to be suspicious but enough to polish the armor the big man before donned. "You know I always bet on you."

"Ah! My biggest supporter, really."

"Ha! All of the kingdom adore you König, and you know it." You clasped your hands in front of you, testing him to see if he'd cave and look down at your cleavage. "Where is your squire? he has left his book."

"That old thing, I should just let Sapphire piss all over it. More harm than good that thing. He most likely tore out of here in a frenzy, terrified of Price."

"König! You take that back at once, if the boy has a hobby, let him have it. Lord know he needs something to deal with the likes of you all damn day!"

"I mean this in the nicest of ways dear princess, but kindly, piss off." You snorted when he tripped against the stool, bending over and righting it for him so he could properly mount Sapphire. This time you did in fact catch him peeking. Blue eyes on yours quickly thereafter.

"As you wish sir," you curtsied and just before you swayed away from the stables, you grabbed up the book. "For safe keeping of course."

"Of course, princess."

….

"Whose he up against again?" Sebastian asked next to you, over the roar of the crowd. His breath already reeking of wine.

"Keegan. USMC's finest knight. Did you not see the bulletin when you arrived two days prior?"

"Guess I was too concerned about getting between my princesses legs." You whacked him arm, your father was nearby and heaven forbid he find out you are sleeping with the potential enemy, or that you were no longer pure. Might send him into an early grave.

The truth was you hadn't slept with the man beside you, flirted with the idea, but then he would say something most fowl and you couldn't help but pray your father might put you out of your misery and have the man exiled from the kingdom.

"Watch your tongue, Sebastian. You do know I can order it cut from your face, correct?"

"Would you continue to use it?"

"You are a sick man, Kruger. Ugh."

Everyone was finally settling down for the joust, your countrymen across from you shouting jeers and the dislike for your Knight, vice versa. It was all fun and games until someone had a little too much, lost in their cups, sheets to the wind and made the wrong choice. They'd end up sleeping it off that next day in the stocks if not worse depending.

All that mattered was the book safely hidden under your seat and that König would turn to be the victor, to receive a kiss upon his helm.

Sapphire soon set the scene, prancing out on the left side of the course, shaking her mane, swishing her tail, stomping her hooves into the sand. König held up his arm, his decorated lance, to the cheering crowd. As he did his first lap around, he had Sapphire stop in front of your box and curtsey, König even tipped an imaginary hat to you.

Keegan did the same, one lap and a show of grace and gratitude.

"Who do you suppose--"

"König never fails me."

It was true. Almost as if by some divine luck did König always win once you began betting on the man. You'd watch from your fathers' box until you were old enough to get your own, years now, close in proximity of course, had to remind you not to shout too loudly, that it wasn't very ladylike. You spat at that remark. A lady can choose whatever she does. The tantrums you would throw about hearing conversations of betrothment, sent off or given to some ugly prince or old king. Blegh. The thought of being touched made your blood boil, it was bad enough Sebastian thought you might lay with.

Bundling or bare. Yuck.

One might think, by your words, that you had used your magic to keep the score, keep him on the winning list of things but this was all König. You were told he was special. The faeries told you so one evening in the veranda, making their little mushroom circle so they could live lavishly, dancing about like fire flies.

"You know of König? the blood Knight, yes?"

"Of course."

"He is very special, not only to you but to all the realm, all who look upon him. See that he is looked after. Cared for, loved and he shall return it ten fold!"

"I am not going to use a spell or curse him."

"No no, princess. Not like that. How would nurse a kitten back to health? with time and care, patience. Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

Their high pitch whispers in your ear tingled the hairs on your arms and neck. The little fae never left your garden, had been there before you were even thought of all those years ago, let alone how would they know about König?

And he did not fail yet again this night. The clashing of lance to chest plate, the crowd, the roar and grunts of pounding steeds and hooves in sand. The excitement, the adrenaline of watching two brutes joust and beat each other back and forth for all its' worth. All the praise, to be champion. All the spoils to the victor. Keegan was a dear friend and ally, all was not lost after the battle. Armor a bit dented, but nothing too serious. No wooden pieces had been lodged anywhere tender.

König trotted Sapphire towards your box and you made your way down the little steps, leaning over the balcony and looked straight into his eyes. They were on fire. He radiated heat and exhaustion.

You put your hands on his pauldrons and leaned in close.

"You fought valiantly, you are rewarded kindly." You kissed both sides of his helmet, lingering a bit on the second one as you could smell his aroma, distinctly König with added sweat of course. Bergamot, red currants, burning wood, hay; divine. "My blood Knight."

Sapphire even allowed a little snout pat before trotting off.

….

"Should I be worrisome, child?" Your father asks of you, as you lay in bed lipping through the pages of the book. He does not care much for your reading habits, most unbecoming of a young lady even though you are closer an age to König than most of the gentry women you surround yourself with. They are of the season, supple and willing to marry old wealth, put up with splotched hands on smooth skin, made some slave woman of her own name in a locked away tower somewhere. You've heard the horrors, seen the terrors. It is not pretty.

"Of what now, father?" You ask without even looking up.

"Of your friendship with the blood Knight," your father paced the length of you room, settling himself out on to the balcony, hands drawn and clasped behind his back. With a sigh you will your legs to move, to bookmark the page and get up. "Are you two… meaning to be more than friends?"

"Father please. König and I are truthfully platonic," you pat his shoulder with a genuine smile, even though behind your eyes and heart you wished nothing more than to be his beloved. "He cares for winning jousts as much as I. A true KorTac champion, yes? A real Knight."

"I suppose your are quite right, I just… I get the feeling there is something there and I do not know if I wish it to be true, someone to look after you once I am gone, well taken care of, loved. I do know you spend some time with Sabastian, supervised of course, to each their own child, I just do not care for his arrogance and stature."

"His stature?"

"He boasts himself too much, puts on airs. Is most embarrassing I must say."

"Agreed! Truth is father, if I were to be presented to someone for marriage I would gladly take König's hand any day."

"As friends?"

"As friends."

….

That was a lie but you did not wish to rush your father off to an early grave, if he knew your true intentions with your Knight. You would spend hours, disguised as his squire boy, listening to him rant and retell you stories of his valor, fighting off ogres at the outer wall of your kingdom. How he'd gained the trust of the elves, the way they taught him a few choice words over roast fowl and freshly caught fish. How the fire breathers danced in the moonlight, when he saved the life of several children from a dragon. He had the scales of the fallen beast sewn into his chainmail for added protection.

Not only did you want to watch the stars with König, some nights you would cast out magical hearts along your ceiling as you wished he would make you see them. Oh to be underneath him, you thought with a sigh, to see his face for the first time, to touch him, to kiss him. Maybe a true loves kiss if the faeries were correct.

"Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

The ballroom is filled with jovial voices, sober until the actual dance begins. Sheathed swords line the walls, of all sizes, your kingdoms banners flow and move against the high ceilings. Other knights stop by your throne and bow their heads before moving on to get a drink, or something to nibble on. Which is what you are doing, quietly of course, cant be seen as royalty with spinach in your teeth now can you?

"Your grace, will you be joining me along the dance floor this evening?" Kruger suddenly popped up, he always does that, he' so slinky. Quiet as the field mice you used to catch when you were small.

"Must I?"

"I would appreciate one dance before I go to the wall, pray tell who knows how long I shall be without your beauty this time."

Forever, you grumbled to yourself and covered your mouth with a fake smile. "One dance."

"One time is all I need, princess."

Gowns of gold and greens, blue patterns woven into the busts, everyone was buzzing about, König's repeat victory, who was going to be wed at the beginning of the season, bets on who would be in the stocks come next morning.

A round of applause erupted and you need not guess who its' praise was for. He towered over everyone here he might as well be an elf. He waved and bowed to everyone, Keegan following suit, getting his own set of admirers. Some flouncy women would be joining him this evening no doubt to soothe his loss.

"Do you think you could handle that much attention, my dear? All eyes would be on you as well if you were to wed the blood knight."

Your father said next to you, a goblet in hand as he watched you watch König do his tour about the ballroom.

"I don't mind. I am not jealous, father. He can do as he pleases, go where he is needed most, helpful as long as he comes home to me in one piece."

"Well… Kruger will be displeased to hear it."

"Pfft, I do not care what the likes of Sebastian Kruger have to say. He is most, annoying is to put it lightly."

"Agreed."

The music is as light as the conversations as you dance a round with Sebastian, he's easy to move with. You've danced with him before, when you caught his eye apparently. He'd been trying to get your attention, bringing you blood stained trinkets in exchange for your affections. You weren't buying it and when he wasn't looking you'd toss them into some bushes with a roll of your eyes.

He suggested another dance when the orchestra faded out into a newer song and thankfully you didn't have to turn him down as you two bumped into König.

"Afraid not friend, this one is for me."

Kruger slunk away, giving you a bow as it would be highly inappropriate to argue with the winner of the nights' champion. It didn't help how König had said for me. You would ride that high for weeks, surely.

"You did save a dance for me didn't you, princess?"

He'd cleaned up, lighter gear of course, different helmet too. He'd even scrubbed off the coal, though his eyes were still just as bright and clear. He bowed.

"Several in fact, my knight." You also bowed and got into position, holding onto his armored body, you began to move about the room. "Have you already danced with some fellow maidens? Am I slim pickings?"

"Ha! I did not know you were suddenly a jester, my lady!" König chuckled behind his helmet, fingers intertwined with your own as he turned to spin you out only to bring you back in with your back to his chest. "Maybe you should start wearing one of those hats as well."

"Oh please, König. I know you are what the youths call a lady killer."

"I shall have you know, your grace, I have never killed a woman in my life!"

"Not seriously, you oaf."

He shook his head at you as you continued to dance, another song melted into the next and you thought he would bid you good night but instead insisted, begged for another dance. Who were you to object to his request? Plus he was warm and playful and you didn't have to pretend, using magic to be this close to him.

"You did not answer my query?" You pulled your body closer, leaning up against his armor, a blur of your reflection caught in the chest plate.

"Nein my lady, I do believe I only have enough energy to keep up with thee."

"You mean your name will not be attached to any maiden but myself?"

"That is correct. Should I use force and bring out my dagger, make it a point to the kingdom that I dare court the princess after a joust? Say the words and I shall." He joked and spun you, making you dip your head back.

"Oh König, you know I am a firm believer of knowledge before the blade."

He stilled for a moment, looking at you with earnest blue eyes. You were about to inquire what was suddenly the matter when it dawned on you what you had just exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon…. I did in fact not know that about you."

You flustered and shrugged as the other dancers proceeded to swell and dance around your still forms. "I uh, it is a common phrasing, is it not? One should be skilled in both, I am sure your squire would not mind giving you a tour in the archives. Should you pull out your blade you may as well bring out your quill as well." You tried to cover your tracks, it seemed to work as he was swaying a bit, getting into the groove of the dance once more.

"I suppose so. I have only heard my squire say such is all. And what shall I learn down there, hmm?"

"Perhaps the art of properly courting."

"Ouch! Oh how you wound me, a dagger to my side. That means I shall have to try harder to impress you then, princess. And I will."

….

You had been down in the libraries all evening, getting permission from König to do some light reading which of course meant you were pouring over that big book. The choice words, the incantations and spells were incredible. Written in a form you had you use your own magic to decipher, it took a few tries to figure out the meanings. Why were they written in the first place? If you know the casts, why keep them locked and in this two clasp book? If you are born of magic, like yourself, you would already have the knowledge, already gifted just needed to harness and control it.

You bit into your thumb while you deciphered the words in the air above you, kicked back, rocking dangerously on the back two legs of your chair.

Just then the doors burst open loudly, others studying shooshed the intruder and you could hear the clank of armored boots. Hurriedly you put the words back into the book just in case.

"Squire! There you are."

"Well yes sire, you told me I could study today."

"I think I have made a grave mistake."

"What have you done?" You asked and brought the chair back to its' original position.

He clanked and pulled out another chair, seating himself next to you, his helmet is in hands. "How old are you lad? Maybe fifteen?"

"I am all of sixteen, sire." Which is a complete farce as you are about double that, give or take a few months. "Why?"

"I figured. You have not yet begun courting young maidens. Do not follow my example as I made an absolute baffoon of myself last night at the ball. I did not mean to admit hidden feelings but I did so freely! How can I court her? What if she thinks I jest too much, I know how much she humors me with her wit but for the sake of my name and title, what shall I do?"

You looked confused. "Who did you make a mockery in front of? I did not see any such act. Was this behind closed doors?" Saliva had pooled in your mouth, had he admitted his admiration to some other beauty after your dances last night? Had you been actual slim pickings? Was he trying his best not to crush your feelings?

"You were there last night? Well my eyes were elsewhere I suppose. The princess, what must she think of me now? I dare not show my face to her. Well, you know what I mean, boy. I was in such a jovial mood I let my feelings out of their cage and for what? She is probably laughing about it with her friends. If word gets out--"

"What did you say to her, sire that would leave you in such a state?"

"I told her in not so many words that I plan on courting her! Impressing her! Showing off as if I have not been in love with her for years, how foolish of me, squire. What was I thinking? Jousting I can do with my eyes closed, protect the kingdom, no problem. Man the wall with the other Knights, tell me when and where. Battle, I have been to plenty and fought valiantly to see another day, clearly. But love, squire? I am but a pest." He clunked his helmet down on the long table.

You winced as you bit your tongue, watching your blood Knight pound his fist as if he were just a boy the age you were glamourized as. Not the recognized Knight all of Kortac and the surrounding realms and kingdoms knew of. He was in love with you? How dreadful it must've been to watch Kruger try to impress you, expressing himself with gestures.

"Sire, maybe this is not the best place to have this conversation," you shakily say, looking about the other knowledge seekers who were giving you two a dirty look. "Maybe your chambers?"

With a huff he lifted his heavy head and looked at you. "I suppose you are right, boy."

You felt incredibly small here, alone, with your Knight. His room was massive, tools of the trade, several sets of armor on display. Swords, some chipped from battle hung up above his bed in display, he did have a book or two set aside but their slipcovers looked a tad dusty. His bed was large and draped with several blankets, fluffed pillows too.

He sat at his desk, taking off his gloves and tapped where his mouth would be. "What should I do squire? What young man knowledge can you share with me if any?"

"I'm afraid I am not the right one to ask, um would you mind closing your eyes for a moment?" You held your hands behind your back, rocking on the balls of your feet.

"No funny business, or I'll take off your nose."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Just humor me a moment."

"Fine fine."

König sighed and shut his visor, you rubbed your hands together as you normal did to conjure up some magic. You took your time to reveal yourself, from the prickling, silly feeling at the crown of your skull to the ends of your feet, shimmering and fading away like balls of sand. Long gone was the boyish façade of leggings and a tattered cloak, replaced by your clean skin and dress.

"They don't have knowledge to share, but I do." Your voice came through and instantly König snapped his visor open and stood. "What are you doing here, my lady? Where is my squire? He was just here… are you in league with him?" König looked around his room, moving about, looking behind curtains, opening cupboards and closets, even the trunk at the end of his bed. Beneath it. Looking for a ghost with no name.

"I've been lying to you, König. It was the only way."

"The only way for what?" He said peeling back the curtains from his window again just to be certain.

Words bloomed and died on your tongue several times over before you finally came up with, "It was the only way I could get close to you unsupervised. No lady in waiting, no escort."

"What sort of trickery is this? Where is my squire, princess? He's here somewhere."

"I am your squire!"

"Prove yourself." He said and paused, waiting, standing still.

With a wave of your hand you transformed into his young apprentice, shock in his eyes. "See. I have been using glamour magic to conceal the truth, the faeries told me you are special and that I should look over you. I would be rewarded if I did and all that was was just an excuse to further our relationship."

"Why? Why go through the trouble?" He asked after being very visibly shocked that you were two in the same, one person, same thoughts, same actions. He came around the bed and looked down at you fumbling with your jewelry, twisting your rings, messing with your necklace. "I am just a Knight."

"Nein. You are not just some Knight König, you are my Knight and I am over the moon in love with you." You answered with a shrug when you changed back. "There was nothing to stop me."

"You love me?" König's voice wavered, on the very knifes edge of sounding accusatory. "Truly?"

"Incredibly so."

He inhaled deeply and walked past you, leaving you to look out one of his windows, you padded your way over to the high glass pane. KorTac was bustling, moving like ants in their hills and nests. Tears welled in your eyes when you did not hear him any further, left to sulk in your own dismay.

You had lied to him, pretended to be someone else entirely. Tempted to use magic, to quell your sorrow, maybe conjure up a storm so everyone know how pained you were in this moment. You may have lost him for good. You knew how filthy he thought liars were. Even if you did care for the Knight, your actions spoke volumes. Tomes the size of that book you so cleaved.

The door to his chamber creaked open, you couldn't hear his armor but instead came heavy footfalls followed by the locking of the door. "Do you mean it? The care you have for me? It is true?" His voice sounded different.

"Of course I mean it." You wiped at your eyes, tears had clumped your lashes together as you watch two little girls skip through the market below.

His footsteps pounded the floor, his hands rested on your shoulders and for the briefest of seconds, you caught his face in the glass of the window. You gasped.

"What are you doing?"

"If what you say is honest and true, turn around and face me."

You did, turning around you rocked on your feet seeing his bare face. The shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the bridge of his nose. All is revealed. He even smiled a little.

"You are handsome, no wonder you cover your face. Everyone would either wish to be you or to have sex with you!"

König snorted into a laugh. "Well thank you my lady, I have been called many things but handsome is not one of them." He smiled again, wider this time. "I can't believe I didn't realize it was you all this time, you kept your eyes and nose the same."

"I'm glad you didn't, I would be in quite some trouble."

"Certainly," König hummed and touched your face with the back of his hand, he'd never touched you like this before. He thumbs over your bottom lip and chin, tilting up your grinning face. "You are a very naughty girl. You have witnessed me shirtless on quite a few occasions over these last several months. Unchaperoned. How scandalous! And to think every time you went missing you were really with me."

"I was not complaining."

"Nein nein, my squire would do no such thing."

….

The first round of kisses were light and sweet, a hint of some sort of berry slipped into your mouth when he licked inside. His hands in your hair, cupping your face, holding your neck, ghosting over your collar as he wrapped you up in his arms.

It didn't feel strange or out of place when you pulled at the strings of your gown, letting it loosen around your shoulders before letting the garment pool around your feet. You stepped out of your flats, climbing on to his lap. The way his shift moved against your bare skin sent shivers up your back.

His large hands, used to battle and action, calloused and laced with past encounters felt warm against your back as he rocked you, laying back when you pushed at his chest.

"Are you in control, princess? Shall I give up all resolve?"

You only smirked and laid across him, brushing some stray strands of his hair behind his ear. "If you love me you will you let me."

"I would let you do unholy things to me." König admitted, tucking his hands behind his head as you moved down his form, lifting his shirt and mouthing over the skin you found in your wake. A large bruised on his ribs were nursed by your lips, kissing over the tapestry of scars that made him. He took it off soon after, helping you take off his trousers as well.

You stilled your hand above his groin, feeling the heat radiate off his conditioned body.

"Do I have your allowance?"

"You have every permission, princess."

You were overly full when you rose to fit him inside your cunt, already as mess of arousal. The noise he made when you sat, taking all of his length at your speed was incredible. You desperately needed to hear it, more of it. Apparently for König as well as he let out more sighs and moans of pleasure, grabbing your rocking hips and rolled you over with a hrmph.

He hissed through his teeth, "I can't take much more of that pace I'm afraid, my lady."

"Eager to fill me are you Knight?" You giggled, feeling him twitch inside you, he bent down and framed your head with his hands, pining your wrists to the bed.

"All night if you let me."

"Like you said," you leaned up and kisses him hard, flexing your hands. "I would let you do unholy acts to me."

That motivation is what got you pinned and fucked more than once that night. His thick cock slipping through your folds as if you were made for each other, he fit so snuggly. Your pussy trapped him, the praises he sang in your honor. How you sobbed his name when he thrusted into you, moving his hips as if he were riding Sapphire. The reverb of the meat of your ass when he finally rolled you over for a second round, bouncing and reveling in the way König's voice sounded almost watery against your ear.

I love you's in between sloppy kisses, the sharp pinch of teeth on flesh. You couldn't get enough. Yes your Knight was inside you, both of you moving as one, connected. Attached. The look in his eyes when he'd pull his cock out slowly only to push it back into your spongy, wet walls. You moved up the bed, the wood of the headboard bouncing gently with his thrusts.

"You are a naughty princess, haven't even properly courted you yet and here you are, balls fucking deep."

"Keep it up my love, you will cum for me once more."

"Can't believe you feel this fucking good. All our b-banter, our back and forth for this to turn into true love. I love you princess."

König held your throat while you rode him, moaning his name, scratching your nails down his arms. You leaned down, burrowing your face into this side of his sweaty neck, on instinct you licked some of it, delighted by König's groan and grab to your hip, you bit down, sucking on him.

You came again, holding on to him tight, the feeling of him bucking up into you, matching push and pull with a chase to climax together once more. You were already sticky, already filled up three times, as round after round had you two on the edge.

"One more princess, one more time for your Knight." König purred after digging his free hand into your hair, keeping you at his neck.

"I don't think I can! I am empty." You whined but kept fucking him.

"Nonsense princess, you are simply filled with me. Load after load you have taken. I am addicted to this pleasure you have wrought out of me."

It was then that you straightened up, leaning back enough to rub at your bundle of nerves, swollen still, dripping wet with hidden activities. König enjoyed the look of what you were doing to yourself, holding onto one of your breasts as you rubbed yourself faster, König could not take his eyes away.

"König please…. bitte I can't… I can't last… I'm--"

"I know it I know it, my love. I can feel you shaking, let it out for me bitte. Then we rest."

You felt it building up, your heart pounding in your chest, exhausted and incredibly satisfied. You could even hear how wet you were, how messy your pussy could sound. Messy with his cum and your arousal, thinking of yourself roaming your kingdom with his seed dripping down your unseen legs got you there. You toppled over, a fresh release of wetness and you were done for.

"One. Last. Time."

Slain by your own hand.

"Bless you princess, I knew you could do it." König groaned, finishing inside you for the fourth time, you were sure he was the empty one now. The morning light shone through his windows as you both laid there, holding hands and catching your breaths.

You laughed into his shoulder, sore but in the best and earned way possible. He kissed your forehead and tucked into your side. You were glad that you had listened to the fae, because you were clearly grateful and rewarded.

Tagging: @powerfultenderness @nepomami

[laurabenanti]

top 5 general danvers fics (your recommendations list is too big)

... i split this into categories to make it easier it wasn't easier i just want to sob and i think i just need to have their own page at this point because... yeah there's a lot of gd fics in there compared to everything else.

fave of all time: anatomy of a stoic by nashur

look - if you're not going to read anything here except for one thing - please read this. it's legit one of my top 3 fics of all time - regardless of ship or fandom or anything along those lines. i have only been able to convince one other person to read it, and they agreed it was fantastic. it's under 12k words, is a one-shot, and i really don't think you even need to know anything prior to going into this to enjoy it [it's au so knowledge of general fandom things is unneeded]. seriously - i do not shut up about this fic if stuff ever gets brought up to me. i reread it a lot because i like it that much. TL;DR please read this fic

ask me my top 5/10 anything

The other 4 are below the cut because i babbled and put small descriptions [from ao3] to assist~ [let's see if the read more behaves...]

fave canon divergence: sword of damocles by uisceB

Canon divergent from 1x13: When Hank shows up on the rooftop to stop Astra from activating Myriad, Astra manages to outmaneuver him, taking Alex hostage as a means of escape. Now, Alex finds herself a prisoner at the hostile Fort Rozz base, but as time goes by, she and Astra begin to form an unexpected bond, challenging each of their beliefs, and loyalties.

fave under 5k words: but gravity, love strangely may defy by mzhlf

In which Astra tries her absolute hardest not to care about people. It doesn't go well.

fave fic that's trope based: (soulmates au) a remedy for old injuries

Astra gets a second chance at life, when it is discovered that she’s being held captive by Cadmus, instead of dead at Alex’s hands as thought, and Alex brings her out. When a chance event reveals that the two of them are soulmates, Alex isn’t so sure that it will work out, for the two of them have many demons to get past. But, with Astra committed to a change of path, and Alex committed to keeping an open mind about her, both of them realize that they have more to offer each other than they had ever dreamed. A story about how Alex and Astra find their way to each other, and to happiness.

fave by a friend: engagements by theonlyspl

"Do you ever think we should just stop this?" her voice is almost alien in its huskiness, and considering the warm body next to her, somehow it seems appropriate. An Anon responded to a meme on tumblr asking for “Do you ever think we should just stop this?” + Alex/Astra and here's the result.

THIS IS CHEATING BUT I PUT A 6TH & 7th BECAUSE - idk

fave with an additional featured pairing: (has supercorp) a proper kryptonian proposal

Astra comes up with a brilliant plan to get Kara to propose to Lena, and ropes Alex in to help her. Along the way, though, she just might find herself ambushed by her own feelings for Alex.

fave crack / humor fic: some tough alien you are... by anonymississippi

Astra blows out her powers during a freak desert thunderstorm and wakes up the next morning feeling feverish and achy. Thankfully, her not-so-useless human roommate is there to look after her.

a couple honorable mentions because i just can't not put them you feel

(holiday cuteness) i saw mommy kissing astra by nashur

(domestic fluff) rainy mornings and black coffee by anonymississippi

(social media au - something i never knew i wanted) swipe right by anonymississippi

[shadowworks]

Look Inside

Pairing: Overhaul X Reader

Warnings: Dubcon-noncon, medical kink, drugged sex, mention of needles, mentions of blood, bondage, fingering, this is dark! 

Word Count: 3.8k 

A/N: I decided to try some creepy themes and give second person a try. So we’ll see how it goes. This piece is dark so please mind the warnings!

Huge shoutout to @present-mel for making the beautiful banner and reading over my fic you precious gem! Also thank you @thisisthehardestthing and @hisoknen for your feedback it’s so greatly appreciated! 💜

Someone had shut off the lights in the morgue. 

You happen to notice this when your eyes toil lazily between security cameras at the right time. You freeze on the spot, and quirk a brow toward the shadow. You expect it’ll brighten any second like it usually does, but after those few seconds tick by without change, a weight of dread sinks in your stomach.

Kai Chisaki put orders in place that if experiments are up and running the basement levels are to remain lit. Chisaki and his men are already down below, and the winding pale halls near the morgue are empty.

 You haven’t been called to notify cleaners about another bloody corpse still peeling off the wall, and you can’t find motion on the surveillance camera when you rewind the recordings. It’s in the lower right corner of the camera, and you note the light flicks off without warning. No one enters, no one leaves. 

You study the harsh glow of the screen for another moment, still in denial, still waiting for the lights to flicker on, and stand up from the chair in the office. When not a soul appears by the threshold, all you can do is lean forward with your hands pressed on the desk, dropping your head in defeat. “Seriously? Fuck you.” 

You don’t know who “you” was exactly, but it felt right to say. 

It takes a bit of time after departing the small office, but you find the proper hall in Chisaki’s deeply looping maze...It’s just you don’t want to step out from the elevator. You were ready before, but when the doors split open and the cool air ghosts against your cheeks, you pause. There’s a stillness lingering in the hallway; it’s far too quiet- except for the creaks in the elevator floor from your shifting weight...But, something seems off. 

  Your steps are tentative when you do slip out, peering down the drab hallway. You clearly see which of the rooms is buried in shadow, and frankly you want to whirl back around before the doors close. But you can’t, well, not yet at least. The tap of your shoes hits off the walls, while you tread along on stiff legs. Eventually you come to a stop having reached the doorway. It’s partly open, a slice of darkness hiding what’s deep inside. 

Hold on, this can't be right. The camera— A shudder trails up your spine. It tingles coldly.

You inhale a deep breath. Okay, just do it; just switch the lights back on, it’s fine. It’s fine. Besides, if it were you (which it is) you wouldn’t want to deal with Chisaki’s ill temper over something so minor as a light. 

He’s punished his men for incompetence before, and those who didn’t listen have smeared the walls with their blood, drenching vein red across white. Black-looking goops of muscle plopped on the floor...the consequences ranged based on severity of failure or how stressed he is, really. In fact, one man had the skin of his face torn off for talking back—wait, relax. Focus

It won’t happen. Kai Chisaki is somewhere else in the maze. He’s not aware of what happened.

There’s a member with a quirk which lets him melt through walls; the tiny one with a bone white mask. He probably slipped between the rooms and grabbed something then turned the lights off. But that didn’t explain the door...

It doesn’t matter.

You stretch an arm out, gently pushing the door further open, and light spills onto the tile floor. 

It’s a cold, vacant room. There’s a pungent scent of bleach still lingering from a cleanup, but it hits your nose almost like it happened recently. You can’t see much nor do you want to. And your hand reaches around the door frame, trailing gentle fingers along the smooth surface for a switch—

Only, there’s nothing on the wall. 

“Are you serious? Really?” you huff to yourself, stepping round to search for the light. Sure enough, your fears are realized with one look. 

You let out an annoyed groan, and a, ‘stupid switch’ under your breath. Who the hell designs a room and doesn’t put a switch by the door? 

Your eyes haven’t adjusted to the dark, so you can’t see the precise details on the walls. So this leaves you no choice but to step further in, allowing the brightness from the hall to guide you along.

It’s a moderate room with a vaulted wall filled with metal drawers, all large enough to fit an icy corpse in ‘til the yakuza dispose of them. Then there’s the silver surgical table in the middle of the room. It's empty, but the thing’s embellished. There’s protruding belts attached, and a tray on wheels is parked on the side. On top of the tray is a clean towel and a neat row of surgical tools lay flat across. 

Your brows scrunch together, studying the sharp gleam of knives and the sizes of needles. Why are these out? Kai’s an obsessive clean freak, every little thing needs to be put back and organized. All his masked cronies know this rule, so who the hell did this? That is, unless someone’s using them?

Your back is turned to the glow seeping in from the hall, so you don’t see a gloved hand press on the metal door. There’s a push, and the door slams shut. 

You let out a startled yelp, cupping your hands to your mouth. What the hell…! Your heart’s pounding wildly in your chest; for some reason the room feels colder, you feel colder. 

“I must say this is disappointing.”

Light floods the room from the panels above, flickering with a buzzing noise before they settle. You take a moment. A deep breath, a slow exhale. When the initial shock stops tingling in your muscles, you slowly drop your palms. The voice is male, his tone’s calm, ominous and it carries like chill over your shoulder. You know this voice; you know you have to turn around. But fuck, you can’t stop trembling. When you do, you see a tall figure looming near the wall, a gloved hand still on the switch.

Kai Chisaki. 

“I told Setsuno I needed him in the security room. Do you think it’s hard for him to follow directions?”

You stare at him, anxiously. He isn’t wearing his green coat with the violet plumage trimming on the collar. He’s in his iron pressed, black suit and grey tie; the trademark plague mask covering half his face. 

“Setsuno asked me to fill in. He said he wasn’t feeling well...I guess,” you manage to say it as steady as you can. 

The lanky blond hadn’t given you a clear reason when he staggered towards you near dawn. But if you’re being honest, you didn’t really care.You barely looked his way at breakfast, choosing to stare into your dark coffee cup than at the katana resting on his shoulder. The sword was still wet with blood, and you knew he’d been out all night. Though right now, you sorta wish you pressed him more for details.

Kai mutters something slightly bitter, words that are muffled against the material of his mask. But you hear him sigh, then his tone turns crisper. “No matter. It’s inconvenient, but I can work around these...changes.”

His arm drops to his side, walking from the wall. And unexpectedly- those peculiar eyes you see leering at his enemies, have now fallen on you. 

You seize up in mild panic, the pupils in your eyes shrinking; not knowing what to do. You take a scuffling step or two back on reflex—and knock your hip against the table corner. 

Oww—ow, fuck. Hold on, what’s he doing? Why—Your voice bubbles in your throat as you watch him draw near. Though it’s strange, for Kai doesn’t pull at the rim of his latex glove like expected, rather, the Shie Hassaikai boss happens to steer past you instead. 

...Huh?

Your neck cranes, loose hair spilling over your shoulder. He stops a couple feet away and tilts his head downward in front of the tray, no longer regarding your presence and focusing on his work. 

You stand there awkwardly, just listening to the clinks of metal fitting together in Kai’s grip. You’re not fully understanding though, should you leave? It looks like your job’s finished now that your boss is here. Besides, you’re pretty confident Kai doesn't want you here if he’s occupying the room. 

In the long pause between you two, your mind’s made up which prompts you to retreat back and aim towards the door. They’re slow, careful moving steps. 

“Well, you seem busy...I should probably hurry back and watch the cameras,'' you say dismissing yourself. You’re partial toward the comfort of the smaller office, and any chance you have of leaving the macabre storage space you will eagerly take it. 

You don’t make it to the gleaming doorknob—because Kai’s voice holds you still. It isn’t loud, but it grips the room. “No stay. There’s no need for you to leave so soon.”

A mix of fear and confusion read across your features. Kai has never spent a moment alone with you. In fact, you aren’t actually part of the yakuza. The only reason you’re associated with the fallen crime syndicate, is because the former boss offered you odd jobs as a favor. You needed some work to keep from struggling and he had taken a liking to you, sort of how he did with Kai. But then, the leader collapsed. 

Now you aren't sure where you stand. Chisaki is in charge.

“I believe there’s something you can do for me. Will you have a seat on the table?” 

You aren’t sure if you heard him right, or fully grasp what he means. He says it so casually-  but you know better; it’s a demand. You’re just not sure why.

“I’m fine. Really. I should be going-“

“Are you defying my order?” Again, he says it so nonchalantly. This time Kai turns his head over his shoulder; the look he gives is almost impassive, yet there’s a menacing gleam in the yellow of his eyes.

“What? No, I was…! Right.”

You don’t exactly drag your feet, but you do stand hesitant before the edge of the table where countless bodies have been dissected. So much blood, so many organs harvested on this very table.

“I won’t ask you again.” 

You turn around robotically, eyes pointed downward as you hoist your hips onto the metal. The table’s surface is icy, it numbs your fingers the longer you lean on it, which only makes you fold them against your thighs. 

“Roll up your sleeve.” Kai says by your right, holding up a purple band. Your gaze flicks up immediately, nervously, a silent plea for mercy. As if somehow your glossy and delicate eyes will make a difference. But it does nothing toward Kai’s stoic stance. He simply waits, and his own steely eyes narrow back.

You drop your head with a wince; just do as he says. 

You comply, pushing up your long sleeve. Though you make a point not to help much more than that, leaving your arm limp at your side. 

Kai doesn’t seem to notice or care and proceeds to wrap the rubber around your arm. You grimace, unpleased as his fingers skim your arm, and again when he brushes you with a wet cotton swab. 

“You need my blood?” You ask evenly. 

His eyes don’t leave your skin, “Not necessarily.”

“A lot of effort for, ‘not necessarily.’” You say, not too dryly. 

“You’ve seen my work before, you should know by now I take great care in everything I do.”

Kai rotates between you and the now rolled over stand, dismissing your light jab. He sets up the port for blood to flow; all in a well practiced motion. It certainly makes you wonder how many times he’s done this before. 

“I’m curious, when was your last doctor's appointment?” He asks suddenly, hands already prepping the next instrument. The other needle probably, but you don’t want to play as his patient. He isn’t your doctor, for fucks sake.

“A while.” You answer. 

“A while,” he repeats with a subtle chuckle under his covered breath,“Has anyone told you before you’re a feisty one?”

You bite your tongue and refuse to meet his side glance. When you don’t reply back, he carries on with a sigh. 

“I’ve had quite a long day you see, so I’m afraid I’ve exhausted my tolerance for stubborn little girls.”

Suddenly, his hand is squeezing your shoulder, and all too quickly you find yourself thumping against the cold metal, your horrified eyes staring up at the bright ceiling. The next thing you feel is buckles fastening, pinning you against the table by your waist and elbows. 

You're flooded with tingling panic, voice cracking from strain, “Hol—Hold on one second. Please, just one more—”

“—You know they say you should never let the lamb see the knife? Their fear tampers the meat, and ruins the flavor,” Kai gives a sharp tug on the last belt. “But I find yours all the more intoxicating, my dear.”

You stammer, words of protest mingle together as you attempt to be heard, “I don’t understand, why are you…Just stop. You need to let me go!”

Your teeth clench together in a rage that fills your chest. You’re not thinking rationally, your nerves are unhinged. And in your adrenaline high your leg curls up, thrashing a viciously blunt strike toward the point of his beak.

 Before it can connect and batter the bridge of his nose and mark his cheekbones, Kai’s arm flexes quickly. Your foot stops mid air as he catches your ankle with constricting force. 

“Do I?” He asks with a title of his head, there're subtle creases in the corner of eyes, you can imagine his mouth settles in a cold smile beneath. 

In that moment you freeze up. Your lash lines burn, stinging with fresh tears glossing your doe eyes. You don’t breathe, you don’t dare to expand your lungs. Your only thought is begging him not to burst open your calf. 

“You shouldn’t be giving commands. You work under me now,” his nails dig in your flesh, and you know those indents will marr your flesh.“Meaning you’ll have to bear with me while I continue.”

Kai doesn’t loosen his hold, briefly watching your pained expression. But he favors dropping his gaze below to study the stretch of your thigh, your exposed and parted groin. It’s then his nimble fingers reach to unclasp the button of your jeans and he gently pulls down the zipper. You cry out, jerking against the belts, but he isn’t fazed. 

“One of our new drugs is supposed to relax its victims...recently it’s been ineffective if the heartbeat’s racing too quickly, though we’ve made modifications to counter this. My plan was to stage a fight with Setsuno, until...you graciously took his place.”

Kai lowers your leg, both hands roaming across to the edge of your jeans. He still studies you, and decides to push up your ribbed sweater, letting the cold bite of the morgue chill your hips. His latex fingers trace lightly across your pebbled skin, skimming down the dips to your thighs. 

“Yes, this will do just fine. You’re pretty enough,” he muses, softly.

He then tucks his hands into your waistband, yanking them down your legs, before they fall to the floor with a plop. The seamless panties slip off easily, as well. This sends a small prickle through you, and, no, this can’t keep going! The fight in you surges, pushing your knees together to shield your groin. Only Kai doesn’t like that. 

There’s something cold and dangerous in his glare, a threat that twists at your stomach. He’s warning you; don’t make this worse for yourself or you’ll make him snap. And you didn’t want that...You watch both his hands clutch your knees, he doesn’t waste time and he yanks your legs apart, taking in your pretty cunt.

Angry tears trickle down your cheeks in response. Your throat burns from holding back a sob, “Chisaki, please. If you would—“

 Without a moment of hesitation, Kai knowingly finds where to touch you first. A little too skillfully for a false doctor, the pad of his thumb presses against your soft, sensitive nub, stroking tight circles with focus. Your breath catches, falling heavier while he sinks his pad deeper in the forming slick, building steady pressure.

“Still so stubborn, what good will that bring you?”

A broken moan spills on your shaky breath, all against your better decisions. His other hand settles between your legs, and a finger plunges inside your heat, curling upward and massaging the rougher layer of flesh. A sharp gasp inhales into your lungs. He isn’t stopping, no, Kai’s gloved finger moves with vigor the more your pleasurably laced cries pour out from your lips, how desperate they become.

He pushes in a second finger, and then a third thrusting in, stretching you and soaking your walls with your arousal. This causes you to push your hips further against his latex hand. 

“Kai, you fucking bastard!” you sob out, formalities be damned as your back arches. You can feel the building pulses in your cunt tense up, losing yourself to your superior on an icy slab in a fucking morgue. 

“You curse my name as though you’re not enjoying this,” Kai mocks.

 His fingers pump deeper, tightening your abs and your lips fall open. His matching rhythm on the bundle of nerves surges in a crash, sending a hard orgasm that shivers through your body. For a moment, just a little moment, your cares fade away. 

You're left breathing deeply, staring up at the ceiling as your chest rises and falls. The euphoria lasts a moment longer, but only for so long. Reality sets in as you lay there, and much too soon, the warmths gone. 

Kai takes advantage of this.

With your chin tipped up toward cabinets lining the ceiling, Kai unfastens his thinner belt. It’s only when you feel him hook under your knees and pull at your thighs that you snap your head up in startlement.

Kai’s venomous eyes stare you down, “I suggest laying back down little girl, we’re not finished yet.”

“Like hell!”

A second flare of rage strickens across your features, a hard glare that doesn’t unyield, especially as he unzips and withdraws himself from formal slacks. You know he’s relishing in your disdain for him, and this makes you thrash on the belts, hoping to force them apart. Of course, Kai did a good job of fastening these fuckers and simply chuckles at your attempt. 

“You’re still not understanding the position that you’re in,” He slips a hand in his pocket, and pulls out the wrapping of a condom. Taking his time, tearing it open, rolling the rubber down his thick length with precision.

 When Kai’s satisfied, his arms reach for you and grab at your hips, giving them a sharp yank forward. He leans in with a darkly low voice, “You can’t escape me. You’re mine to do with as I please.”

“...You lean any closer and I’ll spit in your face.” There isn’t any bite to it. It’s a calm, empty threat and loses all its appeal as a single tear spills down your cheekbone.

A huffing noise emits from his mask, with his lids narrowing in mild disgust. You catch the words “filthy woman,” rasped low and nasally before he does lean back, wrenching at the skin around your hips. 

When he’s all settled Kai lines himself to your heat, in a slow motion he draws himself inside. You almost don't hear it, but from the mask you note a soft hitch in his breath. He gives shallow pushes and pulls on your hips, an experimental dip that splits you in a painful stretch before he pumps fully into you. They’re slow, long strokes, filling you to the brim.

Another strained gasp rips from your wet lips, and your hands impulsively spring out, clenching the black cloth of Kai’s sleeves. His hips snap quicker, and your breath picks up with him. Heart pounding to his thrust; you can feel the beats in your neck. 

And all of a sudden you hear the sound of plastic clasping together, the squeeze of an injection clip the shell of your ear. Your eyes snap open in horror. What—?

Kai locks on your facial features, his deep pumps lessen though the slapping of skin doesn’t stop. “You’ve been too tense. Why don’t you relax for awhile?”

When did he..? 

He prepped it. The syringe must’ve been tucked away. He did have this all planned. You were just the unlucky one who walked to the table and sealed your fate. 

The serum he injected into your bloodstream has fast results it seems. The tension in your muscles slack against his thrusts, allowing him to carry your body closer and take more of his length. You feel the tension in your wide eyes soften, slowly falling half lidded and weak. 

“That’s a good girl, you're taking to the drug faster than I thought,” he muses a little breathless. Right after he sets the syringe back down, a gloved hand reaches for the strap fastened around his head and pulls. The mask slips off.

It’s at this point he hikes his knees up onto the table and pounds in deeper, letting your walls suck him in. Your body’s folded, and Kai treats your body in any way he desires.

You manage to pull your head from his sharp eyes, your cheek bouncing slightly against the icy metal to Kai’s rhythm. The drawers for the deceased are taken in.

You stare intently. 

“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”

“No.” He manages between breathes, his voice is heavy and laced with lusting growls, “This is merely a precaution. In the event...ah, in the event you overdose...well. You’re in the right place.”

Your head lolls back to Kai meeting his delicate face which is now flushed. You realize this is the first time you’ve seen him behind the mask. He’s beautiful. Soft featues that compliment him so well. If only he wasn’t so cruel...

“In fact, hah, if you survive...I think this will be the start of something new in my work.” He manages the last bit with a shaky chuckle. 

You see him smirk wickedly, and all you can do is watch, because it doesn’t stop. The only sound in the room is the liquid squish of sex, your mixed heavy breaths. And you hope, god do you hope in your hazy state, feeling a numbness taking hold of your body, that you leave this room alive.

[astronomoney]

i lost the ask for this so i had to improvise

Request: Hi! Your fics are so fun to read!! And i was wondering if you could do 1 and 8 for the fluff prompts for Jason? Thank you you’re wonderful <3

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Prompts: Prompt list ☁︎1- "You look really cute in that sweatshirt." ☁︎8- "Your hair is really soft."

Summary: Jason Todd pays you a visit while you're recovering from a slight cold, and he brought you food!

Warnings: Like one curse word

A/n: babes you flatter me 🥰 also I head cannon that jason is a soft boi™️ and i will write him as such. you can't stop me. and you can’t convince me he doesn’t read shakespeare (Masterlist)

Word count: 1k

Tag list: @battlenix

Sick Days

Falling in love was never part of the plan. Neither was getting the flu but life just loves to throw curve balls your way. That's how you ended up laying in your dark room with dirty tissues spilling out of your trash can and your curtains drawn.

It had been nearly 3 days since you'd gotten sick so you were in the recovery stage but that didn't make your day any better. You hadn't had a proper night's sleep all week and despite feeling your fever breaking you were no closer to rest. You tossed and turned under your covers trying various different methods but nothing seemed to pull your mind into the depths of sleep.

It felt like you'd been laying there for an eternity. Looking over at your clock you realized that eternity had only actually been about 7 minutes. You groaned loudly and pulled the blanket over your head. That's when you heard a soft knocking coming from your window.

You flipped the blanket off your head and you looked towards the sound. It was only 3 o'clock in the afternoon so the sun was still shining through the thin curtains, showing the silhouette of your favorite person ever. You kicked the blanket off and tried to get out of your bed but tripped and landed on the floor with a thud.

"Fuck," you cursed, untangling yourself from the blanket. The wind was knocked out of you and you cough lightly before jumping up and rushing across the room. You opened the curtains with a wide smile plastered across your face.

There he was. Your very handsome, surprisingly romantic, and all around adorable boyfriend of 11 months dressed in a dark blue Superman hoodie (to spite Bruce no doubt) and holding a bag of your favorite food.

You pushed the window open letting a refreshing cool breeze into your otherwise warm room. The giddy smile on your face only spread when he ducked through the gap.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?" He quoted, handing you the bag of food with a casual smirk adorning his features.

"Romeo oh Romeo, what would I do without you?" you took the bag and leaned up slightly to press a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Starve most likely," he shrugged, moving his hand to cup your chin and bring you in for a real kiss.

You stepped back and looked at the S design on his chest. "Wow the super logo? What's your dear old dad done this time?"

"Not everything I do is out of spite you know." He quipped.

"Well that's definitely a lie but whatever," you shot back, smirking. "I think you look really cute in that sweatshirt,"

Placing the take out bag on your desk you took a look inside. "How was the mission?" he'd been gone the past few days helping a friend of his with some evil psycho. You always worried about him when he went to face people like that but you knew the other heros would look out for him. Plus he promised he wouldn't be dying again anytime soon and he always kept his promises to you.

"Ugh boring," he sat at your desk chair and leaned his head back dramatically. "I was just a distraction because I had the loudest guns." He twisted side to side while you put the take out on the desk.

"Well that's what you get for throwing your silencers at Penguin," you laughed. When he first told you about his double life you didn't believe him but the more you thought about it the more it made sense. Late nights, mystery scars, not to mention the literal Red Hood suit.

"That was one time!" He defended kicking you lightly with fake offense in his voice.

You laughed and kicked him back before returning your attention to the bag. "The fact that it happened at all is still absolutely hilarious," You handed him his container and a plastic fork.

That's when you were reminded of your sickness. You sneezed 3 times in a row and Jason handed you a tissue. "You're such a disaster," he laughed at the expression you made inbetween sneezes.

"It's not funny! I've been sneezing non stop for 3 days! It's so annoying," you complained, opening the food and plopping on your bed. "Seriously, you'd think i'd have gotten better by now but no."

He laughed again and sat next to you. Wrapping his arms around your waist from behind he pulled you into him so your back was resting on his chest and his back was resting on your wall. "I'm surprised all your complaining hasn't fixed it yet." He set his food on the bedside table so he could eat and hold you at the same time.

You gasped and smacked his leg. "Asshole. I'm allowed to complain if i want to and you're the lucky bastard that gets to listen!"

"Oh yeah, so lucky," he joked, clearly trying to get a rise out of you and clearly succeeding.

After eating some and talking for a little while you put the half empty container on your table next to his much less full container. You leaned back into him and adjusted the blanket so it covered your legs. The steady rising and falling of his chest was calming. He was there, with you in that moment and you felt so strangely complete.

The two of you sat in silence for a few blissful minutes and somehow ended up laying down. You had reached your hand up to rest on his neck and you twirled a strand of his hair between your fingers.

"Your hair is really soft," You hummed, your eyes closed and you body relaxed. He hummed back and began tracing random shapes on your arm.

That was the first nap either of you had taken in a very long time. It was also the best nap either of you had taken in a very very long time.

[honestlyvan]

📓!!

So I heard you like pain :3c

I've got a mostly complete outline for a Lotus-Eater Fic that starts with Bulkhead taking a fusion cannon bolt to the chest, and having his spark saved from guttering by Wheeljack who tethers it to his own in a process that is... not quite forcing Bulkhead into a spark bond he is 100% incapable of consenting to, if only because tethers are much less stable and easier to break if one is careful.

He ends up in a coma as Ratchet works feverishly to properly stabilise him, and while in it, Bulkhead experiences a sort of dreamlike "just another day in an endless war", where Wheeljack is the one in a coma with a huge hole in his chest, his own memory is fragmented and unstable, and everyone on the team is acting strange, because he's experiencing bleedover from Wheeljack's spark, along with whatever data his own sensors are bringing in.

Once the tether starts "taking" more, Bulkhead eventually becomes aware of Wheeljack's presence in his systems, but at first he just thinks he's hallucinating, any time he sees Wheeljack anywhere on the base that isn't the medbay. For everyone else, they're sort of just... going through the motions of the life he's familiar with, but the conversations they have amongst themselves (and occasionally with him) are things they're saying out in the real world, bleeding through, of contributing to a developing sense of unreality he has about the whole thing.

However, the more Bulkhead pays attention, the more he realises that something is... off about everyone. Ratchet is strangely earnest with him, Arcee is very forceful about how it's gonna be okay, they've been through worse, Optimus is acting particularly guilty... it just doesn't add up, and none of them seem to be able to explain to him what happened and why Wheeljack won't wake up. Eventually Smokescreen (the person who Bulkhead trusts the least 😂) blurts out that it's not that they don't know, it's that they can't tell him -- in the sense that Bulkhead doesn't know what happened, so he can't fill the blanks in for himself -- and at that point Bulk finally realises that something about what he's experiencing is not... real.

Tbh the majority of the appeal in writing this one would be to get to explore how Bulkhead sees the rest of the team, what features they distill down into. I think Ratchet in particular would be really complicated because I don't think he and Bulkhead have a good relationship at all, and I really like the idea that at some point Ratchet admits to someone (Optimus? Wheeljack? Bulkhead alone?) that he wishes he'd treated Bulkhead better, and mourns how jaded he's become, and that somehow winds up coming up in a conversation with him and Bulkhead inside Bulkhead's dream.

Eventually, Bulkhead starts having blackouts -- from the perspective of the team within the dream, he's been walking around doing things as usual, but he has no memory of them. This is because his spark is actually recovering, and starting to reject the feedback from Wheeljack, and is pulling up his own memories from right before the injury to re-establish continuity. At the same time, both he and Wheeljack are getting so desperate to talk to each other that the tether starts strengthening into a proper bond, they eventually become able to communicate directly, allowing Wheeljack to just explain the whole thing.

Wheeljack, for his part, is feeling increasingly fucked-up about the whole thing, because he and Ratchet haven't figured out that the tether is degrading because Bulkhead is waking up -- they think the drain on Wheeljack's spark is because his spark is failing, but Wheeljack refuses to sever the tether because if they don't save Bulkhead, what was the point of doing this in the first place? At the same time, he's not exactly unconflicted about forcing the tether onto Bulkhead in the first place -- the significant part here is the philosophical question of "what is it okay to do to someone in order to save their life?" and this is riding along that line that all of them are pretty uncomfortable with.

... Except for Bulkhead. Because when he does eventually stabilise and wake up, his reaction to Wheeljack's palpable guilt is basically just "for fuck's sake. Mech saves my life and then turns around and acts like he got handsy with me at a bar. Your priorities are a mess". He's just happy to be alive, he's just happy that Wheeljack is still alive, and truly, sometimes the most practical solution to a philosophical quandrary is to go "don't worry about it" :'D

[jimmys-zeppelin]

hello, all! so I was suggested by the wonderful, ever-talented @jonesyjonesyjonesy to do a fun little writing thing where I share six sentences (give or take) of an upcoming story or chapter of a story. well, frankly I thought this was a lovely idea and that I MUST participate.

SO here is a (not six sentence) peek into my upcoming 90s jimmy fic titled moonbeam. I am very nervous and excited for you all to read it. here's a small blurb I just came up with this week that I really wanted to share. please enjoy!

Sabrina sat at the island counter in the center of the kitchen, about ten or so bottles of nail polish surrounding her and a small bag where another handful were being held. The brunette meticulously filed her nails, bending her fingers in every which way to get her desired nail shape. Jimmy walked in, yanking open the refrigerator door and practically climbing inside. The rustling coming from inside made her look over at him.

"Have we got any of those goodies left from France...? Can't seem to find them anywhere..." Jimmy asked, almost dejectedly.

"Which goodies? There's the macaroons, macarons, crème brûlée, madeleines, ec—" Sabrina started, getting cut off by Jimmy when he popped his head out of the fridge.

"Say that again," He said, a smirk building across his features.

"Say what? Madeleines?" she tilted her head.

"No, the one before." he chuckled.

"Crème brûlée?" she asked, making sure her French accent was up to par, eyeing Jimmy cautiously. She swiped the file across her nail a few more times before setting the tool down.

"Yes. You say it like a proper Frenchwoman." Jimmy said, approaching her like a predator stalking its prey. He took her face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss against her lips with a smile upon his pulling away. "What are you up to then?"

Sabrina stared into his deep green eyes, breaking out in a smile before picking up her emery board again and continuing on filing her nails, "gonna paint my nails. Which color do you like best of these four?"

Jimmy considered his options carefully; the contenders being red, black, blue, and a nude pink. Kissing her temple, he picked a color, placing a finger on the top of the lid, "Black," he whispered, "The color of night."

"You mean, noir?" she replied dramatically, picking up the bottle and considering it, "okay, only if you let me paint yours too."

"Oh, then I'll pick the pink."

"Jimmy." Sabrina whined.

"No, Sabrina. I will not have my nails painted."

"David Bowie painted his nails."

"I—" Jimmy started, interrupting himself at the mention of his old friend, "That doesn't mean anything."

"Brian May painted his nails."

"As an aesthetic!" Jimmy shot back.

"Please." Sabrina begged, jutting out her bottom lip and putting on her best puppy-dog face.

"Sab..." He replied tentatively, as if she were a child that needed scolding.

"Moony..." She said, mirroring his tone.

He looked about ready to push back even further, but after staring into her whiskey-brown eyes, it seemed to wear him down and he knew she wouldn't back down from this fight. Jimmy huffed, grabbing a stool from behind him and taking a seat. He gave Sabrina his hand. "Do it."

Sabrina squealed excitedly, wrapping her arms around him and pressing a long, hard kiss to his jaw, "Yay! Lemme file your nails first, then we can get to painting." she said, flipping the nail file over to its opposite side and getting to work on his fingers.

There was a lull in their conversation, the only sound in the room being the emery board being hard at work. Sabrina piped up a few seconds later, "what was the dessert you were looking for, my love?"

"Oh," Jimmy answered, pondering the question for a few seconds, having completely forgotten that that was the reason he'd come into the kitchen in the first place. "Those coconut ones."

"Ah, the macaroons." Sabrina said, "you finished them last night when we drank the last of the chardonnay."

"Did I? Don't remember that..."

"You said 'these are mine, you can't have any' and ate them in front of me." She said, sounding falsely irritated from his statement.

"Sounds more like you than me." Jimmy said, his tone dead serious. Sabrina's eyes trailed higher to meet his, a furrowed look to her brows. A nearly imperceptible smile started at the corner of his mouth.

"I'll fuck your nails up right now." Sabrina threatened.

"I'd love to see you try." Jimmy replied as she continued filing, moving onto another finger.

She grumbled, focusing on his nails again, a quiet, "old man" leaving her before snorting out a laugh, Jimmy mirroring her it just before she reached for her base coat of nail polish.

and there you have it!! god my palms are sweaty. this story has been my baby for nearly six months now and I have it so near and dear to me that I feel like a cagey parent when I talk about it 🥵 this is much more on the milder side of things with sab and jimmy so I really cannot wait for you all to see more of them (wink wonk). anyway, I've talked enough. thank you all so much for reading this far, I love every single one of you!!

[sadaveniren]

🎄31 Days of Recs - @icanhazzalou 🎄

Don’t Let the Tide Come and Take Me

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

Do you like my sweater?

When Harry's alpha fraternity decides to host a Sadie Hawkins dance, outspoken omega Louis has a thing or two to say about it.

threadbare

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill.

He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

Something Just Like This

Newspaper intern Harry Styles can't believe his luck when he goes from fetching coffee for his boss to writing about London's own superheroes, One Direction. Even better, he gets to spend time with the unfairly handsome Freefall, also known as Louis Tomlinson. Louis, who is way out of Harry's league and far too busy for a proper relationship—so how on earth is Harry supposed to tell him they're expecting?

My Sweetest Downfall

Louis is a retired guardian angel. After the death of his last charge, he became jaded. Humans die—what use is prolonging the inevitable?

He's more than happy to forget about humanity altogether until one day, when Louis is pulled from his desk job for a new assignment: protect One Direction's Harry Styles. It doesn't help that there's something about Harry that Louis can't resist, and it's making him question everything he's ever known. Humans are strictly off limits, and breaking that rule means risking everything, but Harry just might be worth it.

This is a story about forgiveness and discovery, featuring an angel who wants to be a little more human and a human who is so much more than he seems.

‘Til I tasted you

Louis is Harry Styles' biggest fan. It doesn't matter that Harry is famous for being a food blogger and Louis can't cook to save his life.

At least, until Harry offers to give Louis a cooking lesson. Then it matters just a teensy bit.

Ghosts in the Attic Series

When Liam Payne inherited his great aunt's mansion, he never expected it to be haunted. With the help of famous ghost hunters Harry and Niall, Liam is hoping to evict the ghost and sell the house once and for all.

There's just one problem: Louis has been in that house for a hundred years, and he doesn't much feel like leaving.

Alternatively; come for the ghost sex, stay for the feels.

Sail your sea; meet your storm

The strangers to enemies to friends to pining to lovers fic where Louis is cynical, Harry is charming, and they have seven days to get their shit together.

Naked & Proud

In which Harry runs an organic store, not a nudist colony, and Louis doesn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

Baby, What a Big Surprise

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

Paint the Sky with Stars

The historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

Happened so Fast

The one where Zayn drags Louis to a convention and Harry ends up covered in banana custard.

[fairytales-of-yesterday]

My Lonely Days Are Through

A/N: okay so I finally wrote a fic! this is my first fic in like,, 4 years or so? so be gentle with me I guess lmao

I am pretty content with this though! I'm soft as hell so,,, here we go :)

@gardnerlangway this one's for you, lovely

(no editing we die like men)

A yawn escapes your lips as you stretch out and then curl back up. Tim's heart flutters as he watches you rub your nose, your brows furrowed. You're currently curled up on his couch, fast asleep. It's a typical Friday night for the two of you, one spent together. After meeting Tim when you started working in the museum a few months back, the two of you had built up a routine around each other. You would eat lunch together on your break, stay after hours working and keeping each other company, you would even go grocery shopping together on weekends. Today was no exception to your intertwined schedules. Upon leaving the museum for the day, you had grabbed a late dinner and ended up back at his apartment. You had started the night working, but the stress of the week and your recent lack of sleep had taken its toll, and you dozed off relatively quickly after 2am hit.

The soft light of the television dances colors across your face as Tim looks on in complete adoration. Your eyelashes cast tiny shadows on your cheeks as your chest rises and falls steadily. You had borrowed a shirt and some shorts from him, you both agreeing it would just make sense if you spent the night, and his eyes couldn't help but wander to where the tshirt had ridden up to expose a bit of your stomach. His breath catches in his throat as he finds himself thinking about what it would feel like to hold you there. What it would feel like to just have you close. To run his hands along your soft skin and-

"Okay wow, Tim." He quickly looks back at the bright screen of his laptop in order to rid his mind of these compromising thoughts. But, as his eyes make their way back to you, he runs a hand through his hair and breaths a quiet laugh. "I really do have it bad, don't I?"

He quickly covers his mouth though as he sees you slightly stir, not wanting to wake you. He had seen the effect the last week had had on you, his heart slowly falling more and more as each day you seemed to become a little more quiet, a little less peppy, and a little less yourself. The project you had been working on was one you were very passionate about, but it had become quite the endeavor. Though you had been thrilled to take it on, the universe had not been on your side, with people forgetting to follow through with their promises, paperwork getting mixed up, and even artifacts getting misplaced for a bit due to the lack of a proper cataloging system when the museum first opened. It nearly broke Tim's heart to see you become so unhappy with something that had made you so ecstatic before. He had done all in his power to keep you smiling, with funny stories, bad jokes, and any help he could offer, but you couldn't help still being discouraged. He had even mustered up the courage to give you a little kiss on the forehead as he left your office at one point, and the smile it brought, along with the blush that rose to your cheeks, was definitely worth the ten minutes he spent panicking over whether or not he should even attempt it. Just the memory of your flustered face makes him grin.

A small whine draws him from his thoughts. He looks up to find you rubbing your eyes and slowly pushing yourself to a sitting position. He tries his best to maintain his composure as you sleepily pull down your shirt and run your hand through your hair.

"Good morning," he chuckles quietly. You look at him in sleepy confusion before realizing what happened.

"Oh nooo," you groan, putting your face in your hands. He laughs a little louder this time, scooting over on the couch to bump your shoulder with his. You smile into your palms, your face flushing pink at the contact. He bumps you again, drawing your face away from your hands. Peeking through your fingers, you can see the soft but wide smile on his face.

"Have a nice nap?"

It's teasing, but you can see something resembling concern in his gaze. You just nod in response, running a hand through your hair. "I don't think I've ever seen you fall asleep this fast," he cautiously approaches the subject, "have you slept this week?"

The laugh that escapes you in response only makes his concern grow. He asks again, softer this time, and you look up at him with tired eyes.

"I uh... I think I got ten hours this whole week."

"Ten?"

You wince slightly at his tone, cursing yourself for not adding a few hours to make him feel a bit better.

"But that's like... two hours a night! You've gotten ten hours of sleep this whole week?" You can't tell if it's shock or sadness in his eyes. Maybe both.

"Eleven if you count the nap I just took?" You joke, trying to calm him a little. "Tim, I'm okay I promise, I've been through a lot worse, honest."

"Worse?!"

Okay, so that didn't help. But before you can say anything else to try and defend yourself, he wraps you up in a tight hug. You tense up for a second, taken by surprise, but quickly you melt into him. You don't even realize you've started crying until you hear Tim trying to comfort you.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you hiccup into his shoulder, tears beginning to stain his shirt.

He rubs your back slowly, quietly shushing you, and telling you that it's absolutely okay, and you have nothing to apologize for. You shiver at his touch, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in. You stay like that for a few minutes, you trying to stop your ragged breaths and the tears spilling from your eyes, him rubbing your back, occasionally switching to run his hands through your hair, whispering words of comfort. However, eventually you pull away with a pitiful laugh.

"Sorry about your shirt," you whisper, trying to simultaneously brush your tears off of his shoulder and wipe your eyes.

"Hey, it's completely okay. I know this week has been rough. You have every right to be upset. But, it's over now, okay? Next week'll be better, yeah? I'll make sure it is."

He's relieved to see a watery smile grace your lips. No, that's an understatement. He's almost on the verge of crying himself, never having seen you in this state before. He brings his hands up to cradle your face, wiping the still falling tears with the pads of his thumbs, somehow not noticing the deep shade of red you're turning. With his hands still around your face, he tilts your head so you're looking up at him.

"Now, what do you say I pop some popcorn and you turn on something you like?"

A breathy laugh escapes you and you nod, not really trusting your voice with him this close to you. You can see the masked worry in his features as he smiles, and you mentally kick yourself for stressing him out. But, that thought leaves you as he stands up, giving you a chaste but firm kiss on your forehead. You're eternally grateful that he goes to the kitchen immediately after bc you can't stop the blush that rises to your cheeks.

"Dear god, that boy's gonna kill me," you whisper, wrapping yourself up in one of the blankets that had been resting on the back of the couch.

You start to flip through the channels, eventually landing on a documentary, and you hear a chuckle behind you. You turn to find Tim with a bowl of popcorn in his hand, looking at you in what you could only describe as fond adoration. You flush again, and he laughs fully now, plopping down beside you. You lift the blanket, inviting him in, and he gladly accepts, scooting over close enough to bump knees with you.

You fall into a comfortable silence, both of you enraptured by the bright images on the tv. Every now and then your hands brush when trying to reach for popcorn, and you mentally curse yourself for getting so worked up over cliches, not knowing that Tim was doing the exact same thing.

You're the first to speak.

"Thank you."

It's a quiet whisper, accompanied with a shoulder bump. He bumps you back and gives you a lopsided grin.

"It's the least I could do."

“What?”

“Y/N, you've spent the last few months I've known you being so amazingly kind to me. You bring me food, you save me seats in meetings, you laugh at my jokes, you-”

You cut him off very seriously, “Okay they're good jokes, Tim.”

At that he laughs, breathlessly.

“Not good enough for you to cry in the middle of a meeting! I was trying to be quiet and you almost spit your water everywhere!”

Now you're both laughing, remembering that stupid planet joke and how you just about died of embarrassment, and before you can think or stop yourself, you say it.

“God, I love you.”

It's like all the oxygen leaves the room. Both of you are immediately gasping for breath, as if the air had been knocked out of your lungs. Before you can sputter out an apology, anything to make things go back to how they were before you blurted out what had been your most well-kept secret, Tim manages to get out,

“You… you what?”

His eyes are wide, and you're sure yours are as well. You're in love with him. You're in love with him. You had never even said it to yourself before. It had always just been little sighs, thoughts of him basically all the time, or little whispers to yourself about how bad you've got it. Never an outright, ‘I'm in love with Tim Murphy.’ No, the first time you said it just had to be right to his face.

You start to say ‘sorry, no, wait,” to say, ‘hold on I shouldn't have done that,’ but then you stop. And you look at him. Tim. Tim, with his sweet words and his brilliant mind. Tim, with his adorable laugh and beautiful smile that he had come to trust you with. Tim, with his tight hugs that make you feel safer than almost anywhere else. Tim, with his strong arms and gorgeous face and Jesus Christ his HANDS are just about the hottest things in the world like oh my god the things he could- you've gotten off track. The point is, you don't want to apologize. You don't want to take it back. You love him.

So you say it again.

“I love you.”

And then it's quiet. He looks honestly shell-shocked. You can almost see his gears turning behind his eyes, trying to figure out what to say after that. Immediately, your brain jumps to the worst possible scenario, and you begin to backtrack.

“I'm sorry. Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- you're so lovely, but you can completely ignore any of this just hap-”

And then he's kissing you. It's a short kiss, just a sweet, small one, but you're out of breath when he pulls away. You open your eyes to see him in a similar state, his face completely flushed. But he quickly finds his voice.

“I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that.”

All you can do is laugh, still trying to remember how to breathe.

“The feeling is mutual.”

He blushes and gives a bashful smile, then hesitates again, opening his mouth, then closing it, once more unable to speak. However, he manages to regain his composure enough to ask,

“Can… can I kiss you again?”

Not even bothering you answer, you close the gap between you. You feel Tim smile against your lips, and you can't help but do the same. You don't know how it happens, but somehow you end up on his lap, straddling him. Your hands are on his chest as your lips move in sync, slowly, but desperately. Passionately. His hands make their way into your hair, and you whimper quietly into his mouth as he gives it a slight tug. Your face heats up immediately, but you just keep going, pretending it didn't happen and hoping he missed it. He definitely heard it though, and you feel him smirk against you.

Shit, that's hot … everything he does is hot.

You roll your hips experimentally to retaliate, still on top of him, and the moan that leaves his lips is one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. It goes straight to your core, and you let out a groan yourself. You start to roll your hips once more, desperate to draw that sound from him again, but his hands come up to your waist and stop you. You can see he’s panting, and his hair is all disheveled.

“Okay, as much as I want to do that, and I really wanna do that,” he pauses as you giggle, “you just told me that you got 10 hours of sleep this week. I promise we can continue another time, but right now, you need to sleep.”

You pout, knowing he's got a point.

“Okay, but only since you promised.”

He helps you off his lap, letting you use him as support, and gently guides you to his bedroom. He makes a big, dorky show of tucking you in, making sure you're comfortable, offering to make you a glass of water. Finally, he gives you a soft smile, says a quiet goodnight, and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead. Your face immediately flushes, and you whisper a soft goodnight back as he turns to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?"

He turns around, confused.

"The couch?"

You give him a grin, suddenly a bit shy, and wordlessly lift up the covers next to you. He stares at you for a moment, still sporting that confused expression, and then suddenly it's like a lightbulb goes off in his head.

"Oh. OH! You want..?"

You giggle sleepily at how flustered he is. Just a few minutes ago you were about to rip each other's clothes off, and now he's getting stuttery about sleeping in the same bed as you.

"I hope you like to cuddle."

At that, he smiles sheepishly, and nods without a word. You watch as he changes into pjs, his boxers and an old band tshirt, and it takes all your willpower to not start anything again. After turning the lights off, he slides into bed next to you. There's a moment of hesitation, a moment where it seems like he can't quite decide what he wants to do, but then you feel him move closer to you, and suddenly, he's holding you. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and you can feel his smile against your skin. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, and you turn to press one into his hair. You both sigh, more comfortable and safe than you've ever felt in your life.

"Goodnight, Tim."

"Goodnight."

A beat.

"I love you."

You smile.

"I love you too."

[faierius]

Cicatrice (A Promnis fic)

Finally finished the fic for @knightofdoom ! It’s a lot longer than I first thought it would be. It was supposed to be a body/scar worship story...it kinda turned into more of a body positivity story? Kinda? Hope you enjoy it anyway!

It had been a long day. A long, wet, muddy, tiring day. Torrential rains plagued them most of the afternoon, bringing out Gigantoads in high numbers. Battle was difficult, their boots slipping in mud and patches of grass loosened by the downpour.

But the time the rain stopped, it was late and time to sleep. Though they were all exhausted, no one wanted to go to bed caked head to toe in filth. Luckily for them, their camp was within spitting distance of a river. A freezing, exposed, unprotected river.

“We'll go in pairs. Two stay and set up camp, two go take a quick ice bath in the river,” suggested Gladiolus. “Then we switch.”

“Sounds fair enough. Prompto and I shall go first. You and Noctis can set up camp, and I will whip something up for dinner when we return,” replied Ignis, removing his glasses and scowling at the flecks of mud on the lenses.

“Works for me.”

Crossing his arms, Noct leaned on the side of the Regalia, kicking a clump of mud off his boot. “Don't we get a say in this?” he asked, glancing at Prompto.

“Dude, I look like brownie batter. I need a bath sooner rather than later. I'm with Iggy. That way I get to go first,” grumbled Prompto, slicking his hair off his forehead.

“You wouldn't be so muddy if you didn't roll and slide around every time you took a shot,” Noctis scolded, shaking his head.

“Hey, don't blame me because you're jealous of my style.” Prompto's teeth glowed white in contrast to his mud-coated face.

Rolling his eyes, Noctis scoffed.

“Alright, that's quite enough. Prompto, gather your things. I'd like to sleep sometime tonight, and we won't achieve that by standing about.”

“You? Sleep?” teased Gladio, tossing Ignis his bag from the trunk of the car.

It was Ignis' turn to roll his eyes. “Prompto, shall we?”

“Have fun setting up, guys!” Laughing, Prompto trotted along after Ignis. Catching up with the man, he fell into step beside him, glancing up at him.

“Try to be quick,” Ignis told him, returning the glance. “It wouldn't do for anyone to catch cold.”

Prompto looked away, feeling the heat in his cheeks. Had Ignis known Prompto's eyes were on him or was it a coincidence? “I-I'll be fast,” he muttered, clutching his bag in both hands.

Ignis frowned, turning his full attention on the young man. “You seem nervous. Is everything alright?”

Straightening his spine, Prompto plastered an unconvincing grin on his face. “Huh? Oh yeah, totally. It's all good, Iggy.”

Ignis narrowed his eyes.

“I'm just tired. Honest!”

One slim brow rose behind silver-framed glasses. “If you're sure...”

Prompto nodded. “I'm good.”

Though Ignis didn't believe him, he didn't press further. It had him casting curious, concerned glances at the younger man. He was much more subtle about it than Prompto had been, and the man never noticed. Part of him was glad, but the other part wanted Prompto to notice, to close the distance between them. Ignis had yet to break that part of himself, the part that kept him proper, made him keep his distance even when they were alone.

Two weeks had passed since Ignis had collapsed in Prompto's arms by the fire of their campsite. Two weeks since he learned how badly he needed human contact. Two weeks since he and Prompto had evolved their relationship beyond friendship. Twelve days since he was able to do more than just graze his fingers across Prompto's arm. They had yet to even kiss. There was never an opportunity.

A realization struck Ignis and he felt utterly daft. Though it was dark, and they were here to bathe, this was the first time they would be naked in one another's company. It occurred to him he had never even seen the blond without a shirt of some kind. Prompto never forgot to bring a change of clothes into the bathroom when he showered, always changed by himself in the tent, always kept himself covered. Either Prompto was more modest than one would expect, or something embarrassed him.

“Prompto,” Ignis began when they reached the bank of the river. “If you're uncomfortable removing your clothes around others, I can remain here with my back turned until you've finished.”

Even under the dim starlight, Ignis could see the instant, complete flush on Prompto's face. The dark pink was cute. It would have been cuter if he could see it clearly. Though he had to admit, the mud speckling his face was adorable as well.

Prompto's jaw dropped and his back went ramrod straight. “Huh? N-n-no, I'm not uncomfortable per se...I, um...I don't—I can't—it's not—”

“Prompto.” Ignis' voice was quiet, firm enough to cease the nonsensical protests. “You're clearly fretting about something, and I would very much like to help. That is if you'll allow me?”

Dropping his bag on a flat rock, Prompto crossed his arms tightly over his chest. “There's nothing to help, Iggy.”

Taking a step forward, Ignis extended a gloved hand. Prompto stepped back, staying out of reach. Mouth a pinched line, the younger man frowned at the rocky ground.

Lowering his hand, Ignis dipped his head in a shallow nod. “I apologize if I overstepped my bounds.” Turning away, he set his own things down and focused his attention on peeling off layers of mud crusted clothing. His mind raced as he shrugged out of the stiff fabric of his jacket. He needed to apologize to Prompto for coming on too strong. Perhaps he could cook one of his favorite meals for dinner. They had the ingredients in the car for Peppery Daggerquill Rice or Meldacio Meat Pie. Perhaps the meat pie would be a more comforting choice after such a miserable day. Though it was late, and the crust took some time—

Ignis' train of thought was derailed when a pair of pale arms closed around his chest. He looked down at the gloved hands twisting in his shirt and his brow twitched.

“Sorry, Ignis. I didn't mean to do that,” Prompto mumbled into the cloth of his shirt.

“No need to explain yourself to me. I'm sure you have your reasons.” Ignis squeezed Prompto's hand gently, struggling to remain still. He wanted to face the younger man, hold him close, make any insecurities disappear.

“I shouldn't have to be this way with you. I trust you, but this is...”

Ignis heard a quiet sniffle that nearly shattered that proper, reserved aspect of his personality he had been unable to break for so long. “Prompto, please. If you are uncomfortable with anything, just let me know and I will drop the subject. No questions asked.”

Prompto's chest expanded with a deep breath, pressing against Ignis' back. “I don't wanna have secrets with you. I mean, I can't pretend they don't exist, and I can't keep my shirt on all the time...”

“I don't understand.”

Another sigh and the arms dropped away. “Just um, just give me a few minutes. I'll show you once we get in the water. Can't keep the guys waiting.”

Ignis was both worried and intrigued. What could Prompto possibly be hiding that would have him this worked up? Frowning, Ignis dawdled in removing his clothes. He wanted to give the other man as much time as he needed. He even took the time to fold his soiled garments, waiting for Prompto to tell him he could turn around and join him in the river.

“Shit, that's cold!”

Ignis smirked to himself as he listened to splashing and sharp breathing.

“Don't laugh at me! You won't be so composed once you get in here!”

“I am doing no such thing,” Ignis protested, crossing his arms.

“I can see your shoulders shake! Okay. Okay, you can turn around now. Though, I mean, take your time. The view is great.” The nervous chuckle that followed was punctuated by chattering teeth.

“I must admit, these are less than ideal circumstances to bare ourselves to one another for the first time,” Ignis told Prompto as he carefully crossed the slippery, rocky bank to the edge of the water.

Though he was completely nude, outdoors, and at the mercy of whatever wildlife may show up, he held not a hint of shame or embarrassment in his stance. Prompto couldn't blame him for that. His body was perfect in every way. Long, lithe, hard planes of muscle, narrow hips, power under every inch of skin...Prompto had to check if he was drooling. Swallowing hard as the man stepped into the water, he watched him approach.

An immediate shiver captured Ignis as he waded toward Prompto. Goosebumps erupted over his entire body and he wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to stave off the core-deep chill.

“Ifrit's balls, that's cold!” he hissed, stopping a few feet away from Prompto.

A blinding grin eased Prompto's features as a strangled snort escaped him. “Told ya!” he laughed, temporarily distracted from his previous distress.

Trying to keep his teeth from chattering, Ignis turned his full attention on Prompto. Without his glasses, the man was a little fuzzy around the edges, but Ignis could see nothing to make him so self-conscious about his nudity. He was, in Ignis' opinion, a little on the thin side, but his pale skin covered lean musculature. His hips were sharp and narrow, his arms thin but defined, chest the same, stomach less muscular, but the beginnings of a six pack definitely visible. If Ignis had been asked to imagine the young man naked, it would have been exactly what he was seeing. The black water disguised anything below his hips, but Ignis tried not to let his disappointment show. After all, Prompto had gotten to see him in his glory. It hardly seemed fair.

Shaking his head, Ignis met Prompto's eyes. The young man blushed fiercely and turned away. Clenching his chattering teeth, he started to rinse the mud from his arms. Ignis reached out with rapidly numbing fingers, brushing them across Prompto's shoulders.

“I don't understand. What was I supposed to see?”

“You don't have to be nice about it. I know they're gross and ugly,” grumbled Prompto.

“Prompto, I assure you, I see nothing but an attractive young man shivering in icy water. It's dark and I've not got my spectacles on.”

“C-c-c'mon, Ignis!” chattered Prompto. “You can't tell me you don't see these nasty stripes all over my stomach. A blind man could see them!”

Furrowing his brow, Ignis closed the distance between them and looked down at Prompto's belly. He couldn't see them clearly, but he now noticed faded pink and gray stripes to either side of Prompto's navel. Scars. Stretch marks, to be precise.

Without thinking, Ignis ghosted his fingertips across the shallow indents of scar tissue. Prompto flinched, but Ignis was unsure whether it was because the touch was unwanted, or the icy state of his fingers.

“This is what has you concerned?”

“They're ugly! People stare, ask questions,” mumbled Prompto, folding his arms over his belly, blocking it from Ignis' view.

Holding his hands out, Ignis silently invited Prompto into an embrace. The small, shivering man hesitated before letting himself snuggle against Ignis' chest. Putting his forehead to the man's shoulder, he wrapped his arms around his waist. Ignis' strong arms closed around his shoulders, holding him tight.

“If anyone stares at you, I assure you it isn't because of those scars,” Ignis told him, teeth chattering. Water rushed around his hips, testing his balance as it tried to tug them into the current. He held Prompto, but he was so cold he couldn't even feel the blond's body against his. They needed to get out soon, but he wasn't about to leave this situation as it was.

“Your body is perfect. You don't understand,” Prompto muttered, his breath creating a heated patch on his skin.

Ignis sighed, resting his chin atop mud-crusted hair. “I'm glad you think so, but that is hardly the case. I, like anyone, have my own insecurities. Let's not get into that now. This is about you. Please, if you're comfortable, tell me why you are so ashamed of these marks.”

“Because they're stretch marks? Isn't that reason enough? Every time I see them, I'm reminded of the lonely fat kid I was. They remind me I can't eat whatever I want, remind me that I'll balloon up if I even look at fatty, greasy food wrong, remind me I'm not like you guys, and I have to—quite literally—work my ass off to keep up. There's too many questions attached to them I don't wanna answer. It's just easier to keep 'em covered.”

“It saddens me you think of yourself in such a negative light. There is no reason for it. These marks are not the sign of defeat you seem to think,” Ignis said, rubbing his hand in circles on Prompto's back. “You are stronger than all of us. I don't know the circumstances, but these mean success.”

“How?” Prompto demanded. “I got these gaining weight, not losing it!”

Closing his eyes, Ignis let out a heavy sigh and pushed Prompto back to hold him at arm's length. “Prompto, stop. You're being ridiculous. I understand why you're so upset, but you needn't be. You shouldn't care what others think. In fact, I've never known you to care what others think. Scars are not something to be ashamed of.”

“Easy for you to say. You don't have any,” grumped Prompto, crossing his arms and rubbing his biceps.

Ignis had to bite back an exasperated sigh. “Prompto, darling, have you ever actually looked at my face?”

The blond flushed, feeling warm despite the water.

“Acne scars. Unsightly, yes, but proof I've grown up. Those stretch marks you call ugly? Proof you've made changes, became a strong man. They are another chapter of your life. We all have chapters we'd rather forget, but they shape who we are. And I would like you to know, I find your scars extremely attractive.”

“I think your brain's frozen.”

A smirk curved Ignis' mouth. “Perhaps we ought to continue this discussion after we bathe? My extremities have gone numb.”

Prompto dipped his head in a shallow nod. “Okay.”

Reluctantly releasing Prompto, Ignis put some space between them. He nodded back and started an abbreviated version of his bathing routine. As he splashed the grime from his hands and arms, he watched Prompto do the same. In the two weeks since the campfire confession, Ignis had come to realize just how attracted to Prompto he truly was. Tonight, out here under the moonlight, that attraction was more than solidified.

“Ignis...you're staring,” Prompto mumbled, pausing in his bathing.

“I'm finding the water glistening on your skin to be simply enchanting,” Ignis teased before dunking his head under the freezing water to rinse his hair. When he came back up, his head throbbed, but felt refreshingly clear. Slicking his straw-colored hair off his forehead, he flicked away droplets of water and blinked the ice pain from his eyes.

An exuberant outcry and sharp inhalation drew Ignis' attention. A few feet away, Prompto bounced up and down, violent shivers wracking his body as water streamed down his face from his hair.

“Cold!” squeaked Prompto.

“Let's get you warmed up, shall we?” Smiling, Ignis headed back to the bank. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins from the prolonged exposure to freezing water. He wanted to wrap himself and Prompto in a blanket, sit by a fire, read a good book, and enjoy a hot Ebony. Reality had a painful way of ruining nice evenings, however. He still needed to make dinner.

Keeping their backs to one another, the pair dried off and dressed in clean clothes. Ignis slipped on a seldom worn, but warm sweater and a pair of slacks. When he turned back to Prompto, he was shivering away in a sleeveless shirt and sweat pants. “Do none of your shirts have sleeves?” Ignis inquired, raising a brow at the blond.

“Uh...nope. Not any of the ones I brought, anyway. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay once we get back to Gladio's nice warm fire.” Prompto's teeth chattered noisily as he gathered his things.

“It's impossible for me to not worry about you. Now more than ever, I'm afraid.” Ignis approached Prompto, slipping an arm around his waist. Stooping over, he pressed his lips to Prompto's temple. “I hope this isn't too sudden, but the next stop we make with actual beds, I promise to show you just how alluring I find those scars.”

Prompto's jaw dropped.

“I vow to show you a few faded marks on your stomach will neither deter me nor turn me off. I want to spend leisurely hours tracing them with my fingers...my mouth. Erasing the negativity you associate with those scars. Making you love them.” Ignis' voice was low, his lips brushing Prompto's ear as he spoke.

Prompto's breath hitched in his throat. “Well, I'm warm now!”

Laughing a seldom heard, deep, throaty laugh, Ignis straightened to his full height but kept his arm around Prompto. “I would still recommend a sit by the fire.”

Unable to find his voice, Prompto nodded, allowing Ignis to lead him back up to the blue glow of the haven.

“Where the hell have you two been? We thought you'd frozen to death,” Gladio grumbled, rising from his spot on the stony ground by the fire.

“It wasn't that bad,” replied Prompto, squatting next to the bright, cheerful flames.

Noctis quirked a brow. “You're cutting diamonds, and you're telling me it wasn't that bad?”

Prompto glanced down at his chest. The cold wasn't entirely to blame for the peaks in his shirt. “Go see for yourself!”

Chuckling, Noctis smacked Gladio's wide bicep. “C'mon. Let's get this over with.”

The big man scooped up their bags and followed after Noctis.

Waiting until the pair passed the slope of the rune-covered ramp, Ignis approached Prompto. Lowering himself onto the warming stone, he tugged the blond back into his lap. Prompto gave a surprised squeak but quickly settled against Ignis' chest.

“How are you already warm?” he asked, resting his head against Ignis' shoulder.

“I don't feel warm,” Ignis answered, hugging Prompto tightly, trying to cover as much of the young man's bare arms as he could.

“Mm, you do to me. I could fall asleep right here.”

Prompto's content purr jolted straight through to Ignis' core. He didn't realize he had this side to him, buried deep. This primal, side that wanted to throw away propriety and give Prompto all the pleasure he desired. Here and now. Prompto had woken that in him talking negatively about his body, a body Ignis very much wanted to touch, taste, experience.

“Holy crap, your fingers are still cold!” exclaimed Prompto, his entire body going stiff when Ignis' nimble fingers found their way beneath the hem of his shirt. The exclamation morphed into a giggle as the tips of those fingers trailed up and down his stomach.

“I'm afraid I've gotten myself into quite a state,” Ignis breathed into Prompto's ear. “All I want to do is hold you, touch you, kiss you...I'm greatly enjoying the texture of these under my fingertips,” he added as he slid his index finger along the divet of a wide stretch mark.

Cheeks burning red, Prompto grabbed Ignis' hands and forced him to stop. “You need to make dinner, remember?”

“Are you not enjoying my touch?” Ignis asked, reluctantly moving his hands away from his current focus.

“I am. Too much, actually. And you are, too. You're poking me.”

Swallowing hard, Ignis separated himself from Prompto. “Apologies.”

“No, no! Don't apologize!” Prompto's eyes were wide as he spun away from the fire to face Ignis. “It's just...now's not exactly a good time, y'know? But, um...do my stretch marks really turn you on that much?” His voice dropped off into a mumbled whisper as he asked his question.

“Do you really find that so odd?” Ignis wondered, dusting off his backside.

“Well...yeah!”

“Let me put it this way,” the man said, crossing the camp to where his workstation had been set up. “Would you find it odd were someone to say they find Gladio's scar attractive?”

Prompto shook his head. “But he got that being a badass. I got mine by being fat.”

Readjusting his glasses, Ignis let out a heavy sigh. He didn't think he'd ever be able to make Prompto understand, but he wanted to try. “Those scars are part of who you are, Prompto. And you are attractive. Hence, your stretch marks are attractive. One day I hope you will see things from my perspective.” Shaking his head, he began removing ingredients from the paper bag leaning against his station.

Biting his lip, Prompto got to his feet and hugged himself. “I don't know if I can. But...I'll try.” With lazy, kicking steps, he wandered over to Ignis. Looking up from under is eyebrows, he cast a sheepish smile at the man.

“I'll do whatever it takes to assist you. I want to help you see your worth, Prompto. I want you to have confidence, and not just the false bravado you seem to think I can't see through. You are valuable to each of us, Prompto.”

Smiling soft and shy, Prompto leaned against Ignis' arm. “How did this turn into a pep talk?”

Glancing down at the freckled face of his friend, Ignis' mouth tightened into a thin line. “You are always telling me how you don't hold a candle to Gladio, Noctis, or myself. I merely wanted to waylay another round of negativity.”

Prompto scoffed. “Sorry. I get pretty down when I think about my childhood.”

Turning his head, Ignis pressed a kiss to Prompto's damp hair. “If not for the shortage of time, I'd be quite happy to assist you in thinking of other things.”

“You're pervier than I expected.”

Ignis laughed. “Only for you, dear.”

In the distance, birds took flight in a rush and wail filled the air.

“GLADIO!”

With wide eyes, Ignis and Prompto looked at one another. A grin quivered on Prompto's lips.

“I believe Gladio may have tossed our prince in the river,” Ignis commented, barely keeping a straight face.

“He's gonna be livid when they get back.”

“Then we'd best enjoy this peace while we have it, yes?”

“Gonna let me help make dinner this time?”

“Of course, love.”

[etoilesdephan]

Can't stand missing you

Based on a concept/prompt “Phil comes home and finds Dan talking to the plants about his day“

Summary: Phil is away for a few days. Dan begins talking to the plants around their apartment.

Read it on ao3!

Words: 1052

Trigger warnings: Some swearing

A/N: Was supposed to keep working on my chaptered fic, but I have had a weird day so decided to do a little oneshot <3 Hope you like it!

“Stay hydrated,” Dan chuckled to himself when he addressed the hallway plant while pouring the water onto the dark soil carefully to not spill any or over-water the plant which, though it's size was starting to get overwhelming, was still delicate enough to need a careful care. The last droplets from the glass trickling down the rim, Dan straightened upright, smiling at the green leaves, reaching out his fingers to gently run them across the leaves “There you go, now stay alive.”

Any other day he would've watered the plants in silence, only speaking up to complain to Phil about his obsession with plants yet the lack of willingness to take up the regular watering and making Dan do it in the end. Today, however, Dan was alone in the apartment. Had been for the past couple of days actually, as Phil was traveling up North again, having missed his family too much. Though Dan didn't mind having the house to himself once in a while, it tended to get a bit lonely.

Therefore Dan had found himself turning to the plants for entertainment.

At first he had just watered some of the more needy ones, snickering to himself about how thirsty they were. Then he had turned to water the ones that needed it a little bit less, but the day had been lousy; he'd dropped and broken his favourite mug, and Phil had been out on some dinner that night, and Dan didn't want to bother him too much by texting. He had began muttering, annoyed, only to start cussing out loud when he managed to step on a piece of ceramics that he had missed when sweeping up the remains of the mug.

“Can you believe this bullshit?” he spoke to nobody in particular, but as he looked up, there was one of the cacti on the shelf and he waved the small piece of ceramics at it “I bet you're basking in glory that people step on sharp things while trying to avoid you.”

The cactus, of course, had remained absolutely silent.

It was after that that Dan had begun making more of a habit talking to the plants while watering them and otherwise. He thought that there might've been something he read about it being good to the plants, but honestly, he just did it for himself. At least now if anyone would see him through the window, they could assume that he was really into plants rather than just a crazy person talking to himself.

“And how are you doing today?” he made his way through the apartment, checking the plants after the intended movie night out with a friend had resulted in an earlier night back home than expected. “You're almost more exciting than my friends, isn't that just sad?” he spoke, voice normal volume, dipping fingers into soil, kneading it lightly, checking carefully for any wilting leaves as he went on “I was really hoping to go for the movies, it's nice to try to be social once in awhile, you know?”

He paused, pressing his lips together thoughtfully before leaning closer, observing a leaf that he wasn't sure was good to leave or was showing too many signs of wilting.

“Phil wouldn't do this to me, make me go through all that effort just to cancel on me mid-hangout,” a pang of annoyance mixed with that of the apparent loneliness he was beginning to feel.

Finally deciding to carefully detach the leave, he rolled it around in his hand, looking down at the browning shade of green “I really miss Phil, screw him for leaving for more than a weekend,” he squashed the leave in his hand, heaving a sigh “I swear I miss him far too easily,” he admitted, a little defeated, but offered a smile to the plant in front of him, proud of how much greener and alive it seemed to look since he had begun his Dan Care TourTM on it.

That was when a sound of shuffling caught his attention and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand and skin crawl as he whipped around suddenly, hands up and ready to fight or defend. That was when his dark eyes landed on the slightly smirking face of none other than Phil himself. A little ruffled like he had just woken up a moment ago and glasses hanging a bit too low on his nose, though he wasn't entirely clad in his proper pajamas.

“Jesus on a freaking boat,” Dan clutched his chest, exhaling a little more dramatically than necessary “Phil, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

He was met with a soft chuckle and Phil cocked his head a bit, leaning it lightly against the wall that he'd been leaning against for God knows how long, the pale arms lightly crossed over his chest.

“So you missed me, huh?” a cheeky grin, tongue sticking out between teeth, graced Phil's features and Dan just huffed out loud, looking away from Phil with a small roll of his eyes “I don't know what you're talking about,” he lied only to hear more chuckling and it spread a happy feeling through Dan's chest.

“What are you doing back anyway, you told me you're returning tomorrow?” Dan, suddenly realising the day, looked over at his friend, brow arched and the space between the brows creasing a little.

“Well, since you don't miss me at all,” Phil uncrossed his arms, bringing them up in a dramatic manner “Maybe I should have stayed for a whole week. Mum cooked the best dinner!” And Dan could swear that he saw a mischievous glint in those blue eyes.

“Shut up,” there was a small squeak that escaped Phil's lips before they were covered with Dan's, arms wrapped around the back of his neck and chests pressed together closely.

“I missed you too,” there was a soft laughter as they parted, foreheads close, noses still touching as Dan refused to let go. Phil leaned in a little more again, brushing his lips gently over Dan's, arms finding the familiar, comfortable rest around Dan's waist “And I can't stand missing you, so, next time, come with me?”

Lips met again and it was all the answer that either of them needed.