#I think I thought about getting them tatted as soon as I found a clear image of them.

[rvblos]

hii could you write abaut Blas being upset since he is jealous because the reader (fem!reader) is close and friendly with Matías please? Maybe an scenario where the reader and Blas had an argument before this situation :)

Sorry for my english 🧍🏽‍♀️

. ݁₊ ⊹ all alone.

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: fem!reader x blas

˖ ࣪⭑tw: jealousy, swearing.

˖ ࣪⭑ a/n: i hope it’s what you imagined <3

"fuck it." you exclaimed as you hung up the phone. it was the 8th time you've tried to call blas, as he hadn't answered none of your texts.

you were supposed to go to a party together, along with the boys, to celebrate the ending of filming. and he was also supposed to pick you up, but he was unreachable. he couldn't have really left you in that situation, alone.

as you felt your anger taking over, you became clear again: you still had to go to the party, with or without him.

still thinking about your boyfriend's behavior, you grabbed your bag and left the apartment the two of you shared. when you got to the street, blas didn't arrive in the car, of course, and the thought alone made your blood boil. you demanded explanations, and quickly. but your mood couldn't ruin the evening. you calmed down and called a taxi. when you arrived at the party, you had to force a smile to greet everyone.

“y/n!” you heard someone shout behind you while you were talking to enzo. turning quickly with a questioning look, you looked for who had called you. in front of you came esteban, smiling at you friendly, as he approached to hug you. “hi!” you said, hugging him as well. as you parted you smiled at him “how are you, kuku?” you asked him, happy to talk with a friend. he was one of your closest ones and he was the one that basically got you and blas together, he helped you guys a lot to get along.

“i’m good, i’m waiting for juani. he’s always late.” he answered rolling his eyes, after checking the hour. it was 22:47 and not even the shadow of blas. you forced a face, trying to stay calm. where the hell was him?

“by the way, where is blas? wasn’t you guys supposed to come together?” he asked you in a concerned tone. “yeah, he’s on his way.” you lied, smiling softly. you didn’t fell like talking about how he behaved before, you didn’t want to ruin your night or esteban’s. the music was blasting into your ears, and you felt like you were going crazy with all those colored lights, but you tried to control yourself, even though you wanted to go home and sleep, trying to forget about blas.

as esteban went away, you distracted yourself a bit by talking to fran and agustin, the nicest of all. they had been making jokes for almost two hours and your belly felt sore from laughing. your eyes were filled with tears as the boys talked and joked. “so they took pipe a salad!” said fran, in a calm voice. he was talking about tat time pipe ordered a pure de papas, the thing he wanted to eat the most after filming, and they got him a salad.

you laughed so hard that you almost felt sick, as you heard someone behind you speaking “that was terrible” it was pipe. that made you laugh even harder. your hand lingered on your stomach due to the laughter. the boys laughed with you as the music pumped and people you’ve never seen kept coming into the party.

“i need some water now, i’ll be back in a min.” you excused yourself, still laughing lightly as you recovered. you arrived at the bar and asked for a glass of water. as soon as you had it in your hands, you took it thanking the bartender and went back to the boys.

but they had disappeared, they were no longer there. your gaze wandered throughout the room looking for them, but they were nowhere to be found. your friends were gone and your boyfriend wasn't there. a wave of melancholy suddenly overtook you. you were alone. what was the point of staying there?

feeling the tears in your eyes that were slowly coming out, you took your jacket, hurrying towards the exit to go home. your gaze was pointed to the ground, you didn't want anyone to see you and you weren't in the mood to explain what was going on to anyone. looking down, when you bumped into someone at first you didn't notice who you had hit, but when you looked up you found matias' face very close to yours. you looked at each other for a moment, while you searched for the words to apologize and run away, but he was faster. “y/n, what's going on?” he asked you in a worried tone, noticing your glassy eyes. you couldn't look at his face, not in that state. you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, forcing a smile. “nothing, everything is fine.” you replied to him. but it wasn't enough. you were very good friends and he knew something was wrong.

his eyes looked at you with a disappointed face. were you really trying to lie to him?

searching for the words to begin, you felt a vice on your wrist. his hand had grabbed you and was leading you across the room. you felt it tighten around your wrist as you passed through a sea of ​​people, bumping into many of them. when it was starting to feel as you had been walking for hours, matias slowed down his pace, while the street light became closer and closer. as soon as you reached the back exit of the club, matias let go of your wrist. you stopped next to him and turned to ask him "why did you do that?"

"i wanted to go out for a moment." he stopped, looking at your face. "and you seem to need some air too." he finished, taking a cigarette from his pack.

on the small door there were steps, where the boy sat down, resting. wondering what was happening and observing that scene, you stood there looking at him for a while. "sit down." he said without looking at you, patting the spot next to where he was sitting. you sat next to him as you watched the smoke coming out of his mouth. matias handed you the package, and without saying anything, you took one, lighting it.

the two of you remained silent for a while, until he spoke again, shaking you out of your thoughts. "what happened?" he finally looked at you and you could detect a note of concern in his eyes. rubbing a hand over your face, trying to sort out your words, you replied “blas pissed me off.” sighing sadly. he had never acted like this, what had come over him all of a sudden?

matias remained silent, waiting for you to continue, his gaze fixed on you. resting your elbows on your knees, you said, "he hasn't responded to my texts or calls all day."

saying those words out loud, you realized how stupid you sounded. you hadn't even thought that maybe your boyfriend might have had a dead phone, or maybe a sudden commitment had come up. but at least warn...

your anger took over, making the words rush out of your mouth "we were supposed to come here together, he should have picked me up and now we should be here, both of us. instead it's just me!" you pointed at yourself "who knows where he is. and who knows with whom!" at this point you were exasperated, you couldn't take it anymore.

matias looked at you silently, smoking his cigarette, waiting for you to continue your speech to try to understand what was happening between the two of you. calming down, you continued "it's not like him to act like this, he's never done it. i don't understand what's happening to him." sighing you finished your speech as you felt matias's eyes fixed on you. you could feel him judging you, you didn't meet his gaze, you couldn't stand it. he was surely thinking that you were overreacting, that you were crazy and that he just forgot to text you. you would have thought the same thing if you were him.

"it's actually strange that he behaved like that." he said, after a moment of silence which he had spent thinking about the right words to use so as not to say the wrong thing. "did something happen between you two before?" he asked you, throwing the finished cigarette onto the street. "no, that's the point." your hands went into your hair. "nothing like this has ever happened."

"maybe he needed some time alone." the boy on your right continued. "i respect that, absolutely, but at least he could have warned me."

"you're right..." matias said thoughtfully. "i don't know what to tell you, y/n. you've never had any problems in your relationship, i envy you for that." you laughed out loud, thinking about the mess that was going on between the two of you at that moment. "i'm not good at relationships, or even at giving advice. but i can tell you not to worry so much: blas is a very sweet guy, especially with you. i'm sure that everything that's happening between you will be resolved." he said in a sweet, reassuring tone. "relationships are also made of this."

the boy finished his speech, placing a hand on your shoulder and caressing it kindly. you turned to him, smiling softly. “don't let something like that ruin your evening.”

"i'll try." you replied, laughing ironically. "thanks, mati." you gave him a sincere smile, grateful to him for helping you. talking to him had done you good, you had managed to see things from another point of view, another perspective. "whenever you want." matias said, laughing. you laughed too, breathing deeply of the fresh night air.

you stopped for a moment to look at the street: there was no one around, not even a person. you seemed to be the only ones on the face of the earth, but the voices and the music that came from inside the club caught your ears, bringing you back to reality.

"do we want to go back?" he said, breaking the silence. "i want to stay here a little longer, you go in you want thought." you replied in a whisper. you weren't in the mood to go partying, you had a lot of things to think about.

you looked away, but he replied "that's fine" he remained where he was, making you understand that he wasn't going anywhere. "you're not coming back inside?" you asked him, feeling sorry for him. you didn't want to ruin his night, by babysitting you. "i can stay here alone, it's no problem." you smiled.

"i'm not leaving you here on your own." he replied, as a soft smile popped on his lips. you thanked him in silence, smiling as well. "can i have another cigarette?"

you two continued talking for what seemed like an eternity: matias was making you laugh so much you wanted to thank him for distracting you from your thoughts, but all that came out of your mouth was just laughter, laughter and laughter.

"so i jokingly said to him 'why don't we go and shoot this scene directly in the andes?' and jota looked at me so bad!" he laughed too, remembering that scene. you burst out laughing harder than before, almost falling down the stairs. matias was quick to catch you before you hit your face on the road, grabbing you by the hips. "oh my god." you exclaimed, catching your breath. "but how did he put up with all of you for five months?" you asked, wiping tears from your eyes. "honestly? i haven't the faintest idea."

more laughter came out of your mouths, until out of the corner of your eye you saw a car parking in front of you. when blas exited the vehicle, slamming the door behind him, there was nothing more to laugh about for you. matias on the other hand didn't seem to have noticed anything. so when he turned towards you, and seeing your serious gaze aimed at someone, he asked you "what's going on?" there was still a hint of laughter in his voice, but as soon as he saw who was coming towards you, it disappeared completely.

"hey man!" matias exclaimed to blas, who had now arrived in front of the both of you, in front of you and was looking at you with a questioning look "hello, mati" he replied, without even looking at him. his gaze was fixed on yours. "what is happening?" your boyfriend asked, a mix of anger and pure curiosity in his voice.

"i could ask you the same thing." you told him. in your gaze, however, there wasn't a hint of emotion, like in your voice. "i'm gonna go." matias said, sensing the tension in the air. so he returned to the club, disappearing among all those people. you two didn't even notice, you were so intent looking at each other.

"do you have to say anything?" you asked him, your patience was slowly leaving you. "i owe you an apology, i'm sorry." he said, hands in pockets and looking at his shoes. that was all?

"what happened to you? you completely disappeared." you continued, that wasn't enough. "i was at a casting, i forgot my phone somewhere. that's why i didn't call or text you. i arrived late because i didn't even know the location, pipe sent it to me half an hour ago." he sat down next to you, and a wave of his scent slapped you.

but you couldn't give in so easily, not right away. you continued with the questions "you didn't tell me. you were supposed to pick me up, blas. i had to take a taxi to get here." your tone was whiny and angry at the same time, while his was softening. "i'm sorry, it must have slipped my mind." you could sense from his voice that he was truly sorry for leaving you in that situation, alone. "can you forgive me?" he asked you with a pleading look, as the wind caressed his curls.

"don't ever do that again, blas." his hand took yours, squeezing it gently. "i promised i won't." he said as he placed a sweet kiss on the exposed skin on your neck, making you shiver. you finally gave in at his touch.

as he parted from your neck, he asked you "by the way, what was matias doing here with you before?" his tone was concerned as he spoke with a lower voice. "nothing, we were just talking." you answered calmly. he mumbled under his breath, not convinced in the answer that you just gave him. "why do you ask?" "he took you by your waist, y/n." he said, torturing his long fingers. he saw that scene.

"it's nothing to worry about blas, really." he was jealous, matias was one of your closest friends and you loved him, but not in that way.

he snorted, looking away. he didn't believe you, maybe? "i didn't really like what he did..." he said softly. blas wasn't very good at expressing his feelings due to his shyness, but with you there had never been any problems like this, so it was strange. "blas, we're just friends. nothing else." you took his hand in yours, trying to reassure him. he pouted as he stared at the road, unable to face your gaze.

“you’re cute…” you told him at the sight, leaning forward to see his face, smiling lovingly. "i'm not cute, i'm pissed off at matias..." he said nervously, blushing at the sudden compliment, looking away so you wouldn't see him. "no, you're cute." you grabbed his face with one hand, and he turned towards you. a pink hue flushed his cheeks as the stars in his eyes grew closer and closer to you.

"especially when you're jealous." as you said this you brought your face closer to his, causing your lips to collide. you immediately felt his hands wander all over you: your hair, your back, your arms, your thighs. they finally rested on the back of your neck, as he tugged you deeper into the kiss. your fingers caressed his curls softly.

you smiled on his lips as he leaned over to you, kissing you all over your face.

he had always been the same.

nothing would ever changed between the two of you.

[iero]

Joined the Cool Kids Club (Permanent love and dedication to Edd*e Muns*n) today!

[mysterioushogwartsrequests]

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Draco and a Slytherin! Reader where they both are totally in love with each other and maybe one day in class Draco is being particularly needy/frustrated one day and she’s his partner and sees he’s super hard and she teases him but when class is over he asks the reader to give him a blowjob because he loves her mouth and he’s just so whiny and he later spoils the hell out of his girl at Hogsmeade!

This is literally SOOOO LONG!! I don’t know why I wrote so much, but I just really wanted to include all that stuff, lol. My excuse for the length is that I hit a 1,000 followers about two days ago so this is the celebratory piece! 

This goes without saying, but this piece contains a lot of sexual content so please do not read if you are underage or uncomfortable with said topics. I also wrote this in a different perspective because I wanted to try it out so I hope you enjoy!

Warning: SMUT, Oral (Male Receiving)

Title: Princess

                                                 ϟ ϟ ϟ

It was a warm summer’s day, close to the start of the new term. These past few weeks at Malfoy Manor had been tense and Draco often found himself rather stressed . A large part of him felt guilty for leaving his mother at home in the presence of Lord Voldemort, but another part of him felt grateful to be out of his sight. Finally, he could escape the Dark Lord’s watchful eyes, but he could not escape the plan set for him to complete.

Draco’s eyebrows knitted together as he squinted towards the merchandise wall inside Twilfitt and Tattings. Even when he was not around, Draco could still sense the Dark Lord’s influence and the constant reminder of the outcome if he were to fail. However, as he thought of better ways to mend the vanishing cabinet, something caught his attention.  

“Draco darling,” You called to him, stepping out of the changing room with a small smile on your face. Draco’s eyes widened in an instant, a lump forming in his throat as he examined the champagne dress clinging to your body. It was a delicate number with thin, spaghetti strap sleeves attached to the cowl-neck gown, the silk fabric shimmering softly as you stepped onto the podium.  

With a content hum, Draco pushed himself off the wall, his grey eyes locked with yours in the shop mirror as he walked towards you. He rested his hand against your waist, his fingers tenderly sliding down to feel the smooth silk against them, “You look ravishing,” he whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss against the shell of it before stepping back to get a better view of you.  

You smiled satisfyingly, taking a moment to admire the all-black ensemble he wore and how it slimmed him down in all the right places. He stood in a black turtleneck and a fitted suit jacket, his left hand in the pocket of his slacks while the thumb of the other swiped over his bottom lip. A string of questions crossed through Draco’s mind, “When would you wear this?” he thought, tapping his finger against his chin.  

Surely, there was no surprise ball this year, he would’ve heard by now. “Would you wear it on a date?” he questioned, imagining a scenario where the two of you ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, illuminated by just candlelight. “Even better,” Draco trailed off, his eyes lingering over your arse as you admired yourself in the mirror, looking over your shoulder to see the diamond detail that connected the open back, “What would such an expensive piece of clothing look like on his dormitory floor?”  

Draco recalled the conversation he shared with his mother a week prior, where she had counseled him after a particularly difficult day. Narcissa Malfoy had an interesting way of comforting her son. Of course, she sat and listened to him, holding him as he cried, a mixture of guilt and failure coursing through her veins as she fought against the Dark Lord’s plans for her beloved son. The next day, however, she entered Draco’s room with a smile and presented a brand-new wardrobe for him as a start of term gift.  

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, Draco gave a gentle smile and looked up at you, instantly meeting your hopeful eyes.  

“Oh, those eyes” 

“I’m not sure if I should get it,” You admitted, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as you hopped off the podium and halted in front of the platinum-haired boy. Closing his eyes, Draco took a deep breath, captivated by the intoxicating smell of vanilla radiating off your body. An exquisite aroma, packaged in a —hand-blown— glass perfume bottle with delicate golden leaves painted onto it, finished off with your initials carved at the bottom of it.  

Another one of Draco’s thoughtful gifts.  

“And why is that?” asked Draco, his hand resting against the side of your neck, his thumb rubbing small circles against your jaw. The dress was cut just right, the tight, draped bodice granted him a wonderful view of your breasts, but he looked away to halt the tightening of his pants.  

“I’ve got no occasion for a dress like this,” declared a slightly defeated (Y/N), taking another glance in the mirror, “Well, we’ve still got the goodbye dinner with your parents” You recalled, running your hands down your hips, unintentionally catching Draco’s attention as he remembered the family dinner he had forgotten about. 

“That settles it then,” announced Draco in a chipper tone, “I’ll buy the dress,” he grinned, stepping towards his girlfriend, but halting by the display of diamond accessories. With a glance over the merchandise, he pointed at a necklace set with a pair of earrings, receiving praises from the shopkeeper. Taking the necklace from the older wizard, Draco walked over to (Y/N), “turn around,” he uttered and you happily obliged, watching him as he placed the delicate piece around your neck.  

“Draco-” you began to protest, but he only pressed a kiss against your cheek, clasping the necklace and letting his fingers linger at the back of your neck. The necklace was a breathtaking, diamond necklace with seven glittering emeralds spread evenly across the center.  

“The bracelet and earrings will do nicely as well,” Draco said, nodding his head in approval and signaling for the shopkeeper to begin ringing them up. You opened your mouth to protest again, but Draco placed his finger against your lips, “I believe you recall what I’ve told you, hm?” he teased, raising a questioning eyebrow as (Y/N) nodded, fighting back a smile, “Then, let Daddy spoil you, Princess.”  

There was no denying the power Draco’s tone held over you. His words shot straight between your legs, the feeling of his lips pressed against the side of your neck making you fall against him, finally becoming aware of his erection now pressed against your thigh. 

“Let's finish up so we can go back to the Manor,” you proposed, shifting your thigh ever so slightly to provide him with some much-needed friction. Draco bit his lip and gave a stiff nod, stepping away from you before you could tease him further.  

“Go change,” he ordered, the cocky smirk returning to his lips, “You’ve got five minutes.” Running back towards the dressing room, you peeled off the dress and stepped into your usual clothes, practically sprinting out of it once finished. After a hasty checkout, the two of you exited the shop hand-in-hand, the bag containing your gifts swinging in Draco’s other hand.

                                                             ϟ ϟ ϟ

This school year proved to be the most difficult one yet. N.E.W.T.s we’re now less than a year away and it was never too soon to begin revising. You, however, found it quite difficult to focus on school these last few days. Despite his constant reassurances that he was all right, (Y/N) found some of Draco’s recent behavior quite odd. This strange feeling first arose the week you stayed at Malfoy Manor, where the four of them sat cautiously at a table with Draco’s aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. You had always had a good relationship with Draco’s relatives, but it was clear to you something was occurring under wraps, something Draco did not want you to know about. Noting his hesitation whenever you brought up the subject, you decided against prying any more information out of him and returned to your studies. Your dedication to academic achievement, much to your surprise, did not go unnoticed by the new Potions Master at Hogwarts, who had heard all about you and Miss Hermione Granger, the two top students of the sixth year.  

Horace Slughorn was a portly, older man, but very gifted with potions and an excellent Professor. Upon arrival, he sought out some of the school’s most promising students and invited them to his office for an elegant dinner. One morning, during breakfast, your owl dropped the intricately decorated envelope right in front of your plate. You had no chance to conceal the envelope from your curious boyfriend, the same one that had tried, without succeeding, to get invited to said dinner.  

However, to your surprise, Draco was not upset. Instead, he pressed a gentle kiss against your temple and muttered the words, “You deserve it, baby girl.” The pet name sends chills down your spine, a smile playing at your lip as his hand rests upon your knee, the cold metal of his rings easing any sort of tension in your body. His left hand rested against your jawline, his slender fingers twiddling with the pearl earring, admiring the small ruby motif encrusted right above the hanging pearl.  

(Y/N) leaned her cheek against his palm, setting the invitation down on the dining hall table, “Are you sure, Darling?” you questioned, taking the time to rest your hand over his, “I might not be able to fit it into my schedule...” you admitted, thoughts of Draco’s mysterious disappearances crossing your mind. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, Draco pressed a soft kiss against the back of it before leaning to press one against your lips.  

“I think,” he started, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes, “You should go show them what the brightest, most caring, and, without a doubt, sexiest girl in Slytherin House has to offer” Draco praised, giving your thigh a small squeeze before dipping to steal another kiss from you, “How does that sound?” He asked sweetly, showering you with yet another kiss, this one against your forehead.  

It was no secret that Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (L/N) were truly and undeniably in love. Often, the corridors were filled with the incessant whispers of jealous girls who longed for Draco’s attention, but he paid no attention to them. The Slytherin Prince only had eyes for you, the only constant ray of sunshine in his life. Whenever he looked at you, he reminded himself of his vow to keep you completely satisfied, and the only reward he wanted was seeing that gorgeous smile on your face. You were everything to him. You were the only one who knew about his previous family troubles, the one who would hold him when he cried during the late hours of the evening. The one who would fix his tie the second it seemed out of place, the one who would rub his shoulders whenever you noticed him bent over his assignments.  

He would do everything and anything to ensure you felt like the luckiest girl in the world because he knew you, out of all people, deserved it the most.  

”You make an excellent point, Mr. Malfoy,” You grinned, nodding your head in agreement, and flinging your arms around his shoulders. A soft smile crept up Draco’s lips as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest and placing a kiss at the top of your head.  

“Don’t I always?” teased Draco, running his fingers through your hair as the other students exited the Great Hall and made their way towards the classes. Rolling your eyes at his response, you placed your hand against his cheek, stealing a kiss from him this time and rising from your seat.  

“We should go,” you announced, stretching your hand out for him to grab, which he happily obliged, rising from the bench and escorting you to your classroom.  

                                          ϟ ϟ ��

 A week had passed since Slughorn’s dinner party, the memory of the evening still fresh in Draco’s mind as he tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. Needless to say, he was not particularly pleased with the events of last Saturday. One of Slughorn’s guests had taken quite the liking to you, practically undressing you with his eyes during breakfast hours, something Draco found incredibly disrespectful. He recalled the way Cormac McLaggen eyed you this morning when you bent over to kiss your boyfriend goodbye, skipping out of the Great Hall without a care in the world.  

Draco clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as his eyebrows knitted together, sparks of frustration igniting within him. Not only was McLaggen ogling you like you were his last meal, but he was also casually brushing up beside you in the corridors, shooting Draco arrogant smirks when they locked eyes.  

Oh, how he would love to jinx that insufferable look off his face. Yeah, that’ll show him.  

He should have been paying attention to Professor Flitwick discussing the proper hand movement for the Gouging Spell, but the thoughts of McLaggen badgering you when he was not around boiled his blood. In hindsight, it was a good thing he was neglecting this lesson because the prospect of gouging a large hole through Cormac seemed very appealing. 

You were particularly busy this week and did not have a lot of time to spend with Draco. Sure, the two of you bid your usual goodnights in the Slytherin common room, but your studying had kept you away from Draco. Due to this, Draco Malfoy was left very touch starved and found himself daydreaming of your earlier rendezvous around the castle.  

Draco turned his head towards you, his face relaxing at once as he watched you diligently taking notes, as usual. You had your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing it softly as your quill scratched against the parchment. With a content sigh, he admired your concentration and wondered how a person could be that gorgeous. He was, truly, the luckiest man in the world when it came to you.  

He supposed that one could not blame McLaggen for falling for you- I mean, who wouldn’t? Any person would be swept off their feet if you entered the room wearing those silk dresses you were oh so fond of. Draco glanced down at those pretty, pink lips of yours, his eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as you parted them, tongue swiping over your upper lip as you added the final details to your diagram.  

Biting his lip, Draco forced his attention towards Professor Flitwick, but it was already too late. The thoughts of you, sprawled across his bed at Malfoy Manor were enough to replace his earlier frustrations with feelings of lust.  

“Stop,” thought Draco, closing his eyes to contain his feelings, but it was no use. Your lips made an “O” shape when you finally grasped the Charms concepts, making goosebumps appear on Draco’s skin as he shuddered.  

What he would do to have you begging for him right now.  

His pants grew considerably tighter and he couldn’t help but feel grateful towards the school uniforms. The robe he was wearing did a decent job at hiding his current problem, but he knew it would be noticeable when he stood. However, that did not stop him from hearing the way you called his name in the back of his head.  

“Please, Draco...”

“Fuck,” cursed Draco under his breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, a slight touch of pink dusting his cheeks. Unable to keep his eyes away, Draco looked back towards you, scanning the soft skin of your neck, and noting how awfully bare it looked. With his self-restraint wavering, he subtly slid down the bench you shared and rested his hand on your knee, something he did quite often. However, you did not question him until you felt his lips against your neck and a hand wrapped tightly around your thigh. Turning your head to face him, you were surprised to see him with his hand over his mouth, his eyes averted from yours as his fingers danced against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.  

“Draco,” you cooed, but the only response you received was a rather harsh nip at your neck, “Draco, someone will see…”  

“I don’t care,” Draco snarled against your ear, “I need this bloody class to be over…” He murmured in a much softer tone, his hand rubbing circles against your thigh and inching closer to your clothed heat. But once you turned to scold him, you noticed the dark, red blush that painted his cheeks and felt his hot breath fanning against your face.  

“Are you alright?” you asked cautiously, innocently rubbing your thumb against his thigh, but that only made Draco twitch in his seat, and his reaction suddenly lit the bulb over your head. Your lips curled into a smirk as your hand moved closer to the bulge on Draco’s pants, turning your attention towards the front of the class as you continued your movements.  

Luckily, the two of you sat at the farthest end of the Charms classroom, away from any overly inquisitive eyes. You were certain nobody would notice, if Draco kept his cool, the two of you would be in the clear.  

“Couldn’t even wait till class was over?” You tutted, delicately tracing your fingers over his crotch, and smirking as he shifted in his seat, “Be careful, I don’t want us to get caught.” You added, firmly cupping his erection through his slacks, a wide grin spreading across your face as he doubled down and hid his face behind a book he propped up. It was honestly quite surprising to see Draco this way. Usually, he would be the one teasing you to no end, but you were currently in control and that was enough to light the fire of your arousal.  

“D-Don’t stop,” Draco pleaded under his breath, biting down on his thumb to hold back a moan as your palm worked to release the built-up tension. Encouraged by his dick twitching underneath your hand, you quickened your pace and watched as he parted his lips, struggling to keep any sound from coming out. As his breathing grew more ragged, you felt his abdominal muscles tense up against your touch, indicating that his release would wash over him soon.  

Fighting to keep the small sense of composure he had left, Draco gripped (Y/N)’s wrist and halted her movements. It took him a minute to catch his breath, but when he did, he spoke in a low whisper, “Wait...” His eyes never met yours because if he looked into those beautiful eyes of yours, he would not be able to control himself. And although the prospect of taking you over the desk seemed quite promising, he did not fancy the idea of letting the rest of the student body see you bent over in such a vulnerable state.  

That was only for him, of course.  

“What’s wrong, Darling?” You teased letting your fingers trace over his crotch again, but he only clicked his tongue at you. Draco knew you too well, he knew you were only trying to rile him up again, but he could not let that happen, not right now. With adrenaline coursing through your body, you leaned towards Draco and let your breath fan against his neck before licking a stripe behind his ear, “Didn’t want to come all over those expensive slacks of yours, hm?” You murmured, gently nipping his earlobe, and taking his momentary lapse of strength to palm his erection once more.  

Draco gritted his teeth once again, pulling your hand away from his pants, “I said wait,” he growled, his lust-clouded eyes finally meeting yours, “You do know how to follow instructions, don’t you?” He asked in a much harsher, more desperate tone.  

“Depends on who’s giving them.” You replied sarcastically, placing your free hand on his knee with a smirk.  

However, Draco did not get a chance to shoot his response back at you. Once the bell signaling the end of class rang, he shot up off his seat and gathered both your belongings before taking your hand and hastily pulling you out of the classroom. A few students stared as the two of you rushed down the hall, blushing in embarrassment as you stumbled after Draco.

His hand gripped yours tightly, leading you towards the Prefects’ bathroom, and stuttering out the password once the two of you arrived. Flinging your book bags across the floor, Draco turned and stalked towards you making you step back until your back hit something solid.

“Think you’re funny, are you?” sneered Draco, pinning you against one of the cubicles, his thigh pressed firmly between your legs and his right forearm braced beside your head. Replicating your earlier movements, Draco dragged his tongue underneath your ear before taking the lobe between his teeth, making you gasp. “Why don’t we put that filthy mouth of yours to better use?” He cooed, blowing a puff of air against your ear, and admiring it as it turned red.  

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gripped his robes and pulled his face towards yours, breaths mingling together, “I think,” You muttered, leaning your lips close to his, “That’s the best idea you’ve had all day…” Looking up at his half-lidded eyes, you crashed your lips against Draco’s, fingers immediately tangling themselves in his hair. Draco returned your kiss eagerly, his hands cupping your arse underneath your skirt and pulling your body flush against his.  

You could feel Draco growing more impatient by the minute. His hands were grabbing desperately at your skin, squeezing every inch of bare flesh he could feel. Longing to have you closer to him, Draco slipped his hand underneath your thigh and hooked it over his hip, fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. Your back arched off the wall, hips grinding against Draco’s as your tongues laced together in a heated kiss. Tugging at your tie, Draco reached to unbutton your blouse and pulled it open, exposing your bra-clad breasts.  

He pressed his lips against the base of your neck, biting and sucking encouraged by your moans beside his ear. One of his hands held your thigh firmly while the other kneaded your left breast, pulling the fabric of your bra down and taking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You gasped harshly, bucking into him, and digging your fingers into his hair, messing up the parts that remained previously neat. Draco rolled his erection against your soaked panties, smiling down at your face as his hands kneaded your clothed breasts, “So pretty,” he murmured, captivated by your flushed face and the shameful sounds passing through your lips.  

Your hands reached up to grab his face, pulling him down for another kiss. This time, using the momentum to switch your positions so Draco’s back hit the stall door, earning a small moan of surprise from him. Grinning up at him, you pressed your lips against his neck and slid your hand down the front of his body, cupping him firmly as you sucked the sensitive skin. 

Draco let out gasping breaths as you moved your hand, his fingers digging into your waist, “On your knees,” commanded Draco, trying to regain some sort of control over the situation. You obliged happily, dropping down to your knees and lazily running your fingers over his thighs before reaching up for his belt. After fiddling with the buckle, you took your time sliding Draco’s slacks down, purposely neglecting his throbbing dick hidden in his underwear.  

“Don’t be a tease,” snapped Draco, gripping your chin harshly, “Suck,” He commanded firmly, releasing you as you pulled down his boxer briefs. Draco’s thick length snapped up towards his lower abs, almost slapping you in the face when it sprung out of its constraints. Almost drooling at the glorious sight of his cock, you took it in your hand, running your thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of the reddened tip. Draco bucked his hips forwards, hissing at the light touch, and looking down at your concentrated expression as you slowly pumped your hand.  

Lolling your tongue out dramatically, you leaned forwards and gave the tip a kitten lick, earning a frustrated groan from Draco. Satisfied with his discomfort, you gave the swollen tip another kiss before taking his length fully into your mouth. He let out a strangled gasp in response, his eyes squeezed shut as you enthusiastically licked up his length. Sealing off your lips, much like a vacuum seal, you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, tongue swirling around it as Draco trembled underneath you, his hand over his mouth attempting to stifle the sounds coming out of it.  

Draco looked down at you, unable to control the string of low moans and grunts spewing from his lips. The sight of your plump lips stretching around his cock made him lose the few ounces of coherent thoughts he had left in his mind. Draco let out another strangled moan, throwing his head back against the stall door as you swirl your tongue around his shaft and use your hand to pump the base of his cock. His hand flew to the back of your head when you moved to take all of him in your mouth, your nose brushing the trimmed tufts of hair as you choked around him, the contraction of your throat making him groan out your name.  

With another husky moan, Draco balled your hair up into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust into your mouth. “Yes, yes,” whimpered Draco, his face flushed red and his breath caught in his throat, “Just like that, (Y/N)” he hissed, his grey eyes flickering down and meeting yours, making his roll back again as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your fingernails dug into the back of his thighs, squeezing them tighter as he quickened his pace. You moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending a violent quake through his body as he face-fucked you, his climax only moments away.  

“Ah, you take my cock so well, Princess” groaned Draco, his pace stuttering, “You’re so bloody gorgeous” He sighed, his fingers delving tightly into your hair as you continued to swirl your tongue around the shaft, relaxing your jaw to let the tip of his penis hit the back of your throat.  

The sounds coming from Draco’s mouth had you soaking wet and yearning to feel his load shoot down your throat. Determined to finish him off, you moved your hand to fondle his balls, moaning with satisfaction as his cock pulsated in your mouth. His breaths grew ragged and the only sounds coming from him were small whimpers and grunts. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his platinum blonde hair fell messily over his eyes, which were currently screwed shut as his face twisted with pleasure.   

Draco’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your eager ones for a second time, but it was too much. Cursing loudly, Draco’s pace grew sloppier and rougher, his body trembling as you fondled his balls once again.  

“(Y/N)!” He cried out as you gagged around him, thick ropes of cum coating the inside of your mouth as he came, hard. You struggled to swallow his heavy load, but you were adamant on taking every last drop, just how he liked it. Draco gasped as he caught his breath, his hand still in your hair as he gave your mouth two final shallow thrusts, pulling out as you licked him clean.  

With his chest heaving, Draco delicately placed his hand against your cheek and slid his thumb over your swollen lips. You press a chaste kiss against the pad of his thumb, the corners of your mouth curling up into a loving smile. He brought you back up to your feet, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all tongue before pulling away with a satisfied smile on his face.  

“You’re quite chipper now, aren’t you?” You teased, hitting him playfully on the shoulder as he pulled his slacks up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and shooting you a wink.  

“Yes, actually,” He retorted, his usual smirk appearing on his lips, “And why is that?” You asked, taking the time to button your own shirt, blushing as Draco stalked towards you. He placed his hand on the side of your neck, pulling down your collar to admire the angry, red marks that decorated it.  

With a small huff, he dipped down and sucked on the spot below your jaw, your knees buckling and hands gripping his shoulders as he bit down. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, Draco pulled away, smirking at the mark that would surely be visible for days.  

“Because I’m the only one who gets to have you like this,” admitted Draco, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin atop your head, “Can’t wait until I catch McLoser drooling over you, I’ll make sure to remind him who he’s dealing with.”  

You laughed at Draco’s declaration, your arms tightening around him as you embraced, “Are you ready for lunch then? He could already be there” You teased, pressing a kiss against his nose, and pulling away to pick up your bag from the bathroom floor. Draco chuckled as you skipped back towards him, giving your behind a playful smack as you walked past him, “Don’t run off thinking I won’t return the favor,” stated Draco salaciously, catching your hand and pulling you back before you could exit the bathroom.  

You looked up at him with a curious expression, “Is that so?” You questioned with a grin, walking towards him, and placing your hand on his chest, “Is it something I should look forward to?” You asked, tilting your head to the side innocently.  

Draco laughed, raising his hand to cup your cheek, “Come to my room tonight at eleven, wearing that pretty little dress from Twilfitt and Tattings,” muttered Draco, his lips close to yours once again, “I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked, his fingers dipping underneath your skirt to swipe over your clothed core.  

Shivering under his touch, you blushed embarrassingly as he examined the slick now coating his finger, “All for me, Princess?” He teased, contently licking his finger clean and grabbing his own book bag, “Actually, I was thinking about McLaggen” you quipped, stepping out of the Prefect’s bathroom with a bounce in your step which Draco followed after, his eyebrows furrowed as he flanked you. 

“Careful, Love” warned Draco with a hum, his hand sliding into yours as you walked, “or I’ll have to teach that naughty mouth of yours another lesson.”

                                               ϟ ϟ ϟ

 Your four-year anniversary drew nearer, and you found yourself worried about Draco’s behavior yet again. He grew increasingly distant as the term progressed and you could not help but worry, despite his constant reassurances, stating there was nothing to worry about. This, again, left you feeling frustrated. You and Draco started dating during your third year and it had taken a while to break down his walls to understand him, but now it seemed like some of that progress was overturned. 

However, when he was around, he always made the effort to shower you with affection and ensure you were being taken care of. Draco knew your habits better than anything, he knew you would be questioning his behavior and launching your own investigations to find the underlying cause of it, but he could not let you interfere. He was already under fire for having ‘distractions’ and had promised the Dark Lord nothing would come in the way of his success.  

To keep you safe, you had to be left in the dark. It wounded Draco to see that distraught expression on your face when he came into the common room past midnight, sometimes even asleep, curled up on the couch waiting for him to return. He felt guilty for putting you through all this, but it was necessary for your safety and nothing was more important than protecting you.  

His nights were constantly haunted by horrifying images of you injured or worse, dead in his arms after some terrible mistake he made. These thoughts were constantly wearing him down, but he could not tell you, it was just too risky to involve you in this situation. This stressful internal struggle encouraged Draco to show you how much you meant to him.  

He wanted you to know that you were, truly, the most important person in his life.  

“Draco,” You whined with your hands over your eyes as Draco led you through the empty streets of Hogsmeade, “Can’t I just open my eyes? I’ve been to Hogsmeade plenty of times” you reminded him, but he only chuckled beside you, holding you by the waist as you walked.  

“I’m trying to surprise you,” Draco stated, rolling his eyes, “So why don’t you stop complaining and follow me.” He declared, pressing a kiss against your cheek, and leading you towards the clothing shops in the village. Draco halted in front of a large store window, looking up at the dress and envisioning you in them with a proud grin.  

“Alright,” he started, grabbing the hands that covered your face, “Ready?” He murmured, pressing a kiss against her fingertips as you nodded. Counting to three, Draco pulled your hands away from your face and stepped out of your view, letting you take in the sight before you.  

In front of you stood a tall mannequin wearing a floor-length shimmering, emerald green gown with small silver detailing the bust, “Wow” you muttered breathlessly, leaning closer to the window to get a better look of the design. The mannequin turned 180 degrees, giving her a better view of the open back and long train that followed the dress.  

“Do you like it?” Draco asked, looking down at his ring with a content smile on his face. 

Your eyes scanned over the glittering, diamond pendant necklace complete with matching water drop earrings, “It’s gorgeous,” you replied, looking over at your boyfriend with a puzzled expression, “Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?” You asked, quirking your eyebrow at him as he laughed.  

“You know me well, Darling” Draco admitted sheepishly, leading you towards the door of the stop and holding it open, “I just thought, since you’ve been attending Slughorn’s dinner parties, that you would need some more evening outfits to show off,” He stated proudly, his hand against the small of your back as he gestured you towards the changing rooms.  

“Draco, I couldn’t possibly! You bought me one at the start of term!” You protested, grabbing his hands but part of you knew his mind was already made up. 

“You’re right,” He agreed with a nod, placing his hand against your cheek, “And I’m going to buy you four more today,” He stated nonchalantly, looking back at the four sets of the dresses brought over by the shopkeeper, “You better get started,” he urged, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of the dressing room.  

With a loving smile, you captured Draco’s lips in a kiss, “I love you” You said, squeezing his hand as he returned your smile.  

“And I love you most,” He replied, pressing a kiss against your forehead, and urging towards the dressing room, “Come on, I want to see how stunning you look in those.” Giggling, you ran into the changing room, winking back at Draco before sliding the curtain close and getting into the first dress.  

Several hours later, you and Draco exited the shop with four bags containing various dresses, jewelry pieces, and, even, a brand-new suit. After one final stop at Honeydukes, the two of you made your way towards the castle, treasuring the time you spent together and the memories you created while doing so.

[buckyownsmylife]

Give your heart a break - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris is a biker and decided he wants to start your forever.

Warnings: I’m gonna tag this as dubcon just to be safe, Chris definitely crosses a line without proper consent, breeding kink, biker!Chris AU, bondage, (belt used to restrain hands), dirty talk

A/N:  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“Hey, baby!” The smile she opened up when she turned around to see it was truly me who had just arrived at her coffee shop made my heart beat faster than it ever did while I was away from her.

I guess the adrenaline the bike used to give me was nothing compared to her effect on me.

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed, jumping on my waiting arms so I could twirl her around, like I always did after we spent some time apart. She looked just the same, which comforted my heart somewhat.

I hated leaving her, but this nomadic lifestyle I’d chosen for myself long before we ever met would never work for her. It’s why she always resisted accepting any kind of labels to what we shared.

That was all about to change, though. Even if she still didn’t realize it.

“What? Can’t I stop by to visit my best girl?” Her smile became even bigger at the pet name. It was the indication I needed of her true feelings. She wanted to be mine, she really just couldn’t handle the biker lifestyle.

“Of course, you can. I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. Sit down, I’ll bring your usual order!” I watched as she fixed me a black coffee and picked a muffin with great care before bringing it to me. I had no doubt it was the warmest one on the tray. “Will you be sticking around for tonight?”

I could see the glint of hope and desire in her eyes. I knew that even though she didn’t want to be tied down to me, she hadn’t looked for pleasure in anyone else ever since I first kissed her. And even though I was sure she thought differently, neither had I.

She owned my heart ever since we met. There was no one else I’d rather have underneath my body. “I think you’ll soon realize I’ll be sticking around for a lot longer.”

Her eyes lit up at that, excitement clear in her features. “A whole week?” She’d been asking me for that for as long as I’ve known her, and I’d never been able to stick through the whole seven days. There was always some shipment to assess, brothers to help.

This time, nothing would force me away from her.

“You’ll see.” She rolled her eyes at my attempt at keeping a mystery, and I know what was going on through her pretty little head. I was already too secretive as it was, there was no need for more hiding. But I had a plan, and I was going to stick to it.

“I’ll be right here until it’s time to lock up. I’ll walk you home, how does that sound?” The way the corner of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at me was enough of a response, yet she gave me one anyway.

“Perfect.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Stop that.” The order startled me, too lost in the haze of lust to realize that he’d stripped down to his boxers, finally noticing that I’d climbed on the bed and had been playing with myself while I waited for him to join me.

Usually, I’d immediately follow his directions - almost instinctively, actually. It was probably some remaining fear that used to exist inside of me when I saw him on his bike just outside my shop, before I decided to give him a chance and began this little adventure between us…

I never wanted to see his anger directed at me. But tonight, I was feeling brave for whatever reason. Maybe it was because of how much I had missed him this time we spent apart and how I unconsciously resented him for always leaving. We’d never have an actual relationship, and it was all because of him.

So maybe that awoke the brat in me, because all I gave him was a smirk, keeping the movements on my clit as I watched him watch me. “I don’t think you deserve that,” I taunted, taking notice of the way he seemed transfixed by the wetness gathered on my lower lips, until I stopped my movements and raised my hand to slather it on my lips.

“You’ve left me all alone so many nights, with only these fingers as company…” I returned them to the apex of my thighs, pushing them inside of me this time, making sure to exaggerate my moan at the relieving sensation of being filled. “I think you deserve to suffer for a while longer.”

He looked so beautiful with his eyebrows furrowed, the length of his eyelashes and the pinkness of his lips almost making me overlook how threatening he still looked, all tatted up, clearly disappointed in me.

“Stop it,” he warned once more, but I wasn’t in a submissive mood. Not tonight.

“Why should I?” I argued, fucking myself faster. “I’m not yours. You can’t boss me around.” That was the wrong thing to say, I realized the second his eyes darkened, jaw clenching at my defiance. He was on me in a second, easily gathering my wrists in one of his hands as he pulled them up in the direction of the headboard, and it was only when I felt the leather around them that I realized he’d picked up his belt to tie me to bed.

“Yes, you are,” he breathed out against my face, eyes looking directly in mine to show me just how serious he was. “And you should know better than to disobey me.” The authoritative tone in his voice had me shivering, especially after he pulled away and stopped covering my body with his, taking advantage of how I was bound to the bed to drink in my naked figure.

“I promise I’ll behave,” I tried to argue, legs flailing around his figure until he grabbed them. “I-I just missed you, that’s all.” The way his huge, rough hand felt on the inside of my thighs should be illegal. And he knew just how much it affected me, as he smirked and looked up at me from under his eyelashes with a knowing glint in his gaze.

“Don’t you trust me?” He questioned, head tilted as his thumb slipped and found place right over my nub. “I just want to make you feel good, sugar.” I hesitated for a moment - I hadn’t really experimented with any sort of kinky sex before, even though I expected him to try something unusual ever since the first time we were together. Guess this was starting small. I could take it.

Besides, I needed him too fucking badly.

“Yeah?” He confirmed after I nodded, tone almost patronizing as he kept rubbing me and playing with himself. “Got yourself wet and ready for me, won’t need to prepare you, huh? Guess your disobedience has it’s advantages.”

All I could do was whimper, especially when he finally leaned over me again, resting his hard cock over my navel. “Feel this?” He asked, and I nodded once more. “It’s about to be inside of you, pretty girl.”

And so he grasped my hips and adjusted himself to start pushing in, spearing me open. Having him for the first time after a while was always a challenge, and although he always took it slow to get me used to him again, he was never one to give me time to accept the intrusion. He just took his time, thrusting in and out, taking note of every little moan that I released as his hips pressed against mine.

“Oh, fuck…” I groaned, wanting to wrap my arms around him but unable to do so, due to my restraints. “T-that f-feels s-so good!” I was positively trembling as he started to pick up his pace, cocky smile only adding to my arousal.

“Oh, yeah?” He panted, drops of sweat starting to form on his naked body from the frantic activity. “Then fucking scream it, sweetheart. Tell your entire neighborhood how good it feels to have my cock inside of you.”

I must have obeyed him, from the way my throat felt hoarse when I finally came back from my orgasm, but I couldn’t remember it. I was too far gone. All I knew, all I could focus on was the way it felt to have his cock rhythmically dragging in and out of me, the sounds of my juices reverberating off the walls.

“Pretty little pussy,” he complimented, eyes focused on the part of me he was so obsessed with. “Can’t wait to fill it up with my cum.” Well, that jolted me back into reality, suddenly pulling on his belt again.

“W-what?” Only when he heard my question and the hesitation in my voice did he raise his gaze to meet my eyes, a patient smile defining his expression.

“C’mon, pretty girl… You know you want it too. Don’t you want an ‘us’?” He urged while I could only stare back, mouth agape. “You know I want more, I’ve always wanted more. Now I’m ready to give it to you. And I know you want me too.”

His voice was soothing against my ear as he kept fucking me, “You want to be round with my baby, don’t you? You want me to keep you filled all day long, until your breasts are heavy and your belly starts growing, so everyone will know you’re now undeniably mine.”

And to be his is all I’d ever wanted, but I never expected it to happen like this. I could only watch, frozen in place as he came deep inside of me, moaning right by my ear before kissing my temple.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He’d never said those words to me before. I don’t think he’d ever said them to anyone. “I know it’s fucked up that I’m only now telling you this, but I do. And I wanna fall asleep next to you every day from now on.”

And so he kept me plugged, full of his cum even as he released my wrists and lulled me to sleep, and for the next seven days, when I woke up in the morning, he was really still there.

“You’re really here to stay,” I whispered on the eight night, cradling his face in amazement as he smiled before kissing my palm.

“Forever.”

[machinegunbun]

concept: so i know we think of colson as this really rough guy when it comes to sex, but what about soft!dom col where he's strict but caring, and maybe the reader even has a bit of a praise kink. ❤❤

Omg yess

word count: 1.3k

A/N: sorry theres not a lot of smut, my brain got to wandering and I didn't feel the horniest so maybe pt.2? tons of fluff tho and its good to be back :)

Okay, so.

I'm thinking maybe reader has a past that left them uncomfortable with intimacy, whether from a relationship or otherwise. They're still super into freaky shit, but they need to feel comfortable first.

Does that make sense? Like, they need that safety blanket there first.

So obviously at first meeting Colson was scary, because to an outsider (especially early kells) he's this chaotic, sex machine.

It's clear to everyone that Reader is obviously attracted to him, and they are. They love the idea of doing all this kinky stuff with him, and at first Colson being Colson comes on kinda strong with the flirting, which makes them a little nervous to pursue anything.

But, one day, reader is hanging out with the gang (I imagine she's friends with Ashley [ that is his assistants name, right? God, it's been so long ] ) Maybe they're at a restaurant, nothing fancy just something where you seat yourself, and everyone squeezes into a booth, deliberately leaving no room for Colson and Reader, pointing to a two seater across the way.

You sit just far enough away from the group that you're out of earshot, and you can see them peeking the heads up and around the booth to try and catch a glimpse of what you're saying.

It's awkward at first, you're expecting him to drop some flirtatious joke that makes you choke on your drink, but instead he asks you how you met (whoever you're connected to in the group.) You tell him the story and return the question. He opens up about the fact that they're a day one, and even tells you about some of the stuff they went through together, good and bad. It's the first time you'd seen Colson not crazy or off something. He wasn't kicking out a windshield or hanging from the roof by a metal beam, he just was.

It was then that you realized the difference between MGK and Colson baker, and that before today at this restaurant you'd never met the latter.

Colson was able to express himself a lot better than MGK ever seemed to, at least when it came to you. He inquired a lot about you as a person, but the moment was ruined when you were in the midst of exchanging deep personal stories and Rook shot his straw wrapper at Colson and it bounced off his forehead and into his drink. Colson stood to return the favor, his story completely abandoned.

You didn't get a chance to speak to him like that again until two weeks later, when you met up once again in his hotel room. You were both sat on his bed watching spongebob, waiting for Rook, Slim and Baze to return with the bucket of ice. It wasn't a secret to anyone what they were doing, it didn't take three grown men to find an ice machine.

You didn't mind though.

Colson made you a little less nervous now that you'd seen him as someone other than the party animal you'd come accustomed to on stage. He was actually pretty cool, and really funny when he wasn't stressing you out with his antics.

When you asked him if he would finish his story for you he looked surprised.

"Oh, wow. You remember that?"

"Yeah, of course I do. It feels like the first time I ever really got to talk to you." He seemed uncomfortable at first, but continued with his story nonetheless.

The conversation flowed effortlessly until you began talking about how you always found Colson so interesting. He did things that terrified you like they were nothing. You admired his grab life by the balls attitude, and somewhere along the way of your ranting you opened up about how nervous intimacy made you. How most of the time the only way you could ever get off was by masturbating.

You hadn't even brought it up with him in mind, but the relation clicked immediately for him.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's really nothing," you laugh nervously "I think it's just anxiety, I dunno. I'm paranoid."

"No, no. I'm sorry for the way I always talk about you— To you." he corrected "I never realized it made you uncomfortable. You always seemed into it, but I should've been more considerate and I'm sorry. I never would have— If i'd known I was making you uncomfortable—" He rambled

"Colson, it's fine." You cut him off "I mean, I am into a lot of the same stuff as you, It's just... I tend to like the concept a lot more than the reality because I am worried, and I need to feel safe before I can even consider something like that."

Colson must've really taken the conversation to heart, because he treated you a lot differently after that. When he'd heard that his loud onstage personality made you a little nervous he was sure to cool it when he was around you. He made sure to address you directly more often when you hung out in groups, whether to joke with you or as a conversation starter. He hadn't realized how uncomfortable and ostracized you'd been feeling in the group aside from your connection to it, but he was determined to change that.

It took a little bit, but eventually you really were comfortable with him, even when he was acting wild. You realized that being an anxious person and being around someone loud like him that you didn't really know was a little off-putting. Large crowds were hard enough for you, but with constant abrupt movement and noise it only worked to make you more anxious. Once you knew Colson a little better it didn't bother you as much, and he even helped you to become a little more comfortable and a little less anxious.

So when you found yourself in his hotel room once again, finishing the tail end of a family guy episode, you decided to make your move.

You weren't really sure how to start. Not with Colson.

You managed to awkwardly snuggle your way into his side, to which he gladly obliged, but you both remained silent apartment from the episode flashing on the tv. Glancing up at Colson, he stared blankly at the TV, glimpsing down to you momentarily to see what you were looking at him for. Your eyes returned to the TV soon after, your hand finding its resting spot just above his XXX tat.

You could feel Colson's chest shake softly with laughter. You tried to remember what had just happened in the show, but you were so busy anxiously devising your master plan to seduce him that you completely blanked. You could feel your heart beating in your chest. All you wanted was for him to blindfold and tie you to the bed and fucking own you. Everything about him drove you crazy. From his voice to his tats to his eyes to that fucking hair. God, you wanted nothing more than to have him between your legs while you tugged at those beautiful curls.

Your hand drifted lower, your nails scraping softly across his skin. This time he audibly chuckled.

"Are you tryna fuck me?" he asks, causing you to blush. It wasn't that you thought you were being sly, but you didn't expect to be confronted like that.

"I-"

"You're good, it's cute that you're shy, I just don't fuck with that teasing shit so, unless you wanna get yourself in trouble..." Although the words were harsh, his tone was soft. Things progressed quickly after that, your lips meeting in a heated kiss to your hands pinned above your head, his mouth moving to your neck as he whispers in your ear

"What's your safe word, princess?"

~*~*~*~

taglist

@kidtheekid

@cclynn88

@lonerlee

@madisonmgklover22

@bakedcolson

@triplexdoublex

@chokemeshaw

@myfatbottomedgirls

@friedwangsss

@rumoured-whispers

@sunflowerbebe07

@nichmeddar

[starryevermore]

miss american pie: caramel popcorn (2) ✧ lee bodecker

miss american pie ✧ a modern tatted!lee series | ao3 | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

pairing: modern tatted!lee bodecker x tiny fem!reader

summary: lee takes his little baker out to see a movie. 

word count: 1,713

warnings?: slight age difference between reader and lee (reader is mid-20’s, lee is late-20’s/early 30’s), pet name (sweet cheeks), not proofread

note: while this is the main storyline i envision for modern tatted!lee, feel free to send in any ideas/concepts you’d like to discuss in my asks. 

disclaimer: by “tiny”, i am simply referring to the height of the reader, which i am envisioning as being 5’2” or less. i am not commenting on the weight/body type of the reader. just how she compares in height to lee. 

Lee Bodecker was nothing if not a persistent man. He’d found a way to weasel his way into your life, but you weren’t complaining about it. He was interesting, different, from most of the men you’d met in your life. When he had come back that night to share a cheesecake with you, he made himself clear that he was interested in you. It was so unlike anything you’d ever experienced. When you were in school, you always dealt with guys skirting around the issue, playing games with your heart, only to leave you in the dust when they were done with you. You almost felt like this was too good to be true. Lee was a handsome man with a great job. Who were you, at the end of the day? An outsider, who had no idea how to even begin fitting into this town. Why would he want to be with someone like you?

But then he smiled at you, his blue eyes twinkling, and any reservations you may have had flew straight out the window. You told him you were interested in getting to know him, that you were willing to see where things could go. He practically lit up, asking if you wanted to go see a movie with him. The local drive-in was showing a double-feature this weekend, Jurassic Park followed by E.T., if you wanted to go. Unable to say no, you gave him your number, telling him to text you a time and a place to meet up. He texted you as soon as he was out of the bakery. Friday night at 8:00. The drive-in opened at 8:30 and was just a little outside of town, he said, so it would take a bit to get there, and he wanted to make sure he got the best spot. 

When Friday came, you agonized over what to wear. Do you look cute and risk being uncomfortable? You’d be outside, at night, and that ruled out 90% of your cutest date clothes. Or do you go purely comfortable and risk coming off as unattractive? Would Lee find you unattractive if you chose comfort over fashion? Would he even care? This was a small town in Ohio, and you doubted he or any of the men would care that much about what a woman would wear. So, you slipped on a knitted sweater and a pair of leggings, hoping that it bridged the gap between chic and cozy.

Lee pulled up outside the bakery/apartment at 8:00 on the dot. He was in an older truck, and from your view out the window in your bedroom, you could tell he had put an air mattress in the bed of the truck. It made you giggle, thinking about how you could curl up next to him while watching the films. You bet he would be a good cuddler. 

He came up to your apartment door like a gentleman, presenting a bouquet of roses to you when you opened the door. “Saw these on my way down here,” he said. “Thought it would be something you’d like, sweet cheeks.”

“I love them,” you said, taking a moment to smell them. “I’m gonna just put these in some water and then we can go, okay? You can come in while I do that.”

He nodded, stepping into your apartment, his hands buried in his pockets as he looked around. You disappeared into the kitchen, fishing out a vase from under the sink and setting it under the water spout, letting it fill with water while you trimmed the edges of the stems over the trashcan. Once everything was to your liking, you plopped the roses into the vase, rearranging them slightly so they looked almost picturesque. Then you took the vase to the living room where Lee was waiting, setting the flowers up on the coffee table. 

“You ready?” you asked Lee. 

“Hold on, just need a moment.” Except, he didn’t do anything, except look you up and down, a smirk curling across his face. “Sorry, just needed a second to appreciate your beauty.”

You felt your face heat up. “You’re just sayin’ that.”

“Would never lie to you, sweet cheeks,” he insisted. “Not when you look so good. Just wanna eat you up.”

“We have a movie to get to,” you squeaked. How he could be so forward was mind blogging to you. Even though you weren’t inexperienced, you’d never spoken to someone who put it all out there like Lee did. 

“That we do,” he said, letting you lead the way out of your apartment, his hand on your back as you grabbed your purse and walked out, only letting go long enough to let you lock the door. “Besides, it’s better to save dessert for last.”

“Oh, uh—”

“Oh, I’m just teasin’ you, sweet cheeks. Like to rile you up,” he said, but the look in his eyes told you anything but. Still, he didn’t press further as he led you down to his truck, even being gentlemanly enough to open the door for you. 

The trip to the drive-in was largely uneventful, save for the fact that Lee insisted on you sitting in the middle seat (“Don’t give me that look, sweet cheeks! All of those pillows and blankets need their own spot. ‘sides, you get your own special spot right next to the Sheriff.”). Or the way one hand would always slip down to your thigh, giving you a gentle squeeze as he drove along the road. 

When you reached the drive-in, you were surprised to see there was already a long, winding line of cars. Was this typical entertainment for a Friday night? A weekly grand event for the small town? You supposed it probably was. They didn’t have an actual movie theatre, as you’d learned when you were picking out where to move to. Though, you hadn’t expected there to be one. Small towns, genuine small towns, with movie theatres only exist in movies and tv shows. 

Lee groaned when he saw the line, mumbling something about y’all might not get the best spot now. You hated the way disappointment cast itself on his face, so you reached over, turning on the radio, smiling slightly when a familiar tune filled the truck.

“With every paper I’d deliver, bad news on the doorstep,” you sang, nudging Lee’s arm, trying to get him to sing along “I couldn’t take one more step.”

Lee rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face. Reluctantly, he began to sing, “I can’t remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride.”

“So bye-bye, Miss American Pie. Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry,” you sang together. “And them good old boys were drinkin’ whiskey ‘n rye, singin’ ‘This’ll be the day that I die’, ‘This’ll be the day that I die’.”

You giggled as the song continued, your head falling onto Lee’s shoulder. His hand moved from your thigh as his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him. Butterflies fluttered around in your tummy as the nerves began to set in. You looked down, your hand resting on his thigh as the line inched forward, the theatre officially open for business. You only moved long enough for Lee to lift his hips to pull his wallet out from his back pocket to pay for the tickets. 

He drove down the dirt road, finding a spot near the middle of the field, backing into the spot so that you could watch the movie on the air mattress he’d brought. 

Once parked, Lee said, “Why don’t you get comfortable while I get us all set up?”

You nodded, grabbing the pile of pillows and blankets, and hopping out of the truck. You walked around to the bed of the truck, tossing the pillows and blankets in before trying to figure out how you were supposed to get in. As you chewed on your lip, you suddenly felt a pair of hands on your waist, lifting you over the edge. You gasped, instinctively kicking your legs, until you were in the bed and saw that Lee was the one who had lifted you. 

“Lee Bodecker!” you giggled. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, sweet cheeks, was just tryin’ to be your knight in shining armor,” he teased. “Just finished putting the speakers on and saw you strugglin’.”

“Well, thank you, my lovely knight,” you said, feeling a rare surge of confidence as you leaned over, planting a kiss on his soft cheek.

His face tinted pink, a smile reappearing. “Well, thank ya, sweet cheeks. Now, I’m ‘bout to head over and get some snacks. You want anything?”

“Hmm, how about some caramel popcorn?” you asked. “Oh, and a Pepsi?”

“Your wish is my command,” he said. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You nodded, grabbing the pillows and blankets once more, setting them all up to your liking, creating a nice little nook for you and Lee. You settled into the comfortable space you’d made, pulling a nice, fluffy blanket over your lap as you watched the previews. Not that much later, Lee was back with a large bag of caramel popcorn, a box of Milk Duds, and two Pepsis. He reached the snacks over for you to hold so that he could hop over into the bed. 

He sat beside you, pulling you close, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You busied yourself with putting the straws in your drinks before grabbing the popcorn bag and placing it in Lee’s lap so you could both grab from it with ease. 

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, your head resting on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. But, as the movie began, you found yourself looking up, moving forward, cradling his face in your hands, placing a soft kiss on his lips. He kissed back instantly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip, pushing its way inside your mouth, exploring the space, tangling his tongue with yours. 

He pulled away when you both needed to breathe, his tongue darting out to lick his lips before smirking. “Tastes even sweeter than I’d thought.”

[hongjoongslut]

Royal Enemies

psychopath!hongjoong x queen!reader

summary: ever since you were young, kim hongjoong was your enemy. you hated him but he was so perfect in every way. for years, he tried to be with you. due to his criminal family and your royal family, it was taboo. now that you’re both grown, he comes to find you, but not without leaving hints before he shows up.

word count: 3.2k

warnings:royal!au, mentions of blood, knives, parents death but doesn’t describe the actual death, beheading, crime scene photos. hongjoong being kinda a psychopath (obviously), tatted!joong, personalservant!mingi, personalbodyguard!yunho, hongjoong uses a shit ton of pet names, oral (m receiving), talk of birth control, unprotected sex, aftercare, sorta enemies to lovers??, mentions of hongjoong’s gang

A/N: i think that’s all the warnings, let me know if i missed something. also i was inspired by a tiktok imagine to write this 😂 also the italics are when reader is in thought mode

why did he have to be so damn perfect? you were raised to hate his...kind. your parents have had his parents arrested before, even threatened to behead them. he wanted you for so long, even when you were such young children. he would always come to you with a dandelion, saying it would match the yellow earrings you always wore. time after time, you refused him, hurting him and you inside.

your crowing ceremony was filled with the town citizens. you knew hongjoong and his family was banished from this town. you didn’t have to worry about dealing with them no further, or so you thought. unfortunately your parents passed a year after you became queen. you luckily had enough experience and knowledge to fight for yourself.

“your majesty, this was sent in. it has nothing on it but your name. should i throw it away?” your servant asks. “actually Mingi, let me see it please.” he hands you the envelope and bows before leaving you be. you opened the envelope slowly, slightly worried of what was inside. it was a letter from what you can see.

“Y/N, it’s been so long sweetheart. im proud of you finally becoming the queen. you always deserved that crown. you looked gorgeous that day.” you pause reading to see a polariod of you being crowned taped to the back of the envelope. “it’s a gorgeous picture, isn’t it? im going to let you hold it for me while i do some business. im coming back to town soon to see you, my love. you can no longer deny me now that your family is gone. i know you felt the same way about me as i did you. don’t worry pretty princess, everything will be okay. see you soon.-Joongie”

your eyes widen. he was there at the ceremony. he was banished, how did he pass through without detection? part of you felt nervous, knowing his family reputation, but the other actually felt a little...excited? it’s been so long, he’s probably grown into a handsome man. you shake your head, clearing all thoughts.

“everyone, i called you here because someone from my past is supposed to come into town. he isn’t an old friend...well, he kinda is. but he’s dangerous.” you somehow managed to find a sorta recent picture of him. damn did he look good. “his name is kim hongjoong. if you see him, bring him to me immediately, alive. he is too dangerous to be in this town.” your guards all bowed and left, except for yunho. “your majesty?” you turn, seeing your personal guard. “what’s up yunho?” you smile. he really is like a lost puppy. “that’s...the kid from our childhood, right? the one who was so in love with you and would try everyday to be with you?” you sigh, nodding along. “how do you know he’s dangerous? maybe he just wants to reunite?” he’s too innocent. “yunho, his family is an infamous killer group. he was probably born holding a cleaver in his fist. he wants to come here to see me, and me alone. god knows what he’ll do to the people if they get in his way.” he nods. “yes, your majesty. My guards and I will do everything it takes to protect you and this town.” you smile at him, watching him leave the room.

now it’s getting scary. the other day, a dandelion was on your nightstand. none of your guards or anyone else in the castle put it there. notes were left almost everyday, containing pictures of you and stuff he has said to you in the past.

“these will match your yellow earrings perfectly, darling.”

“black has always been your color, my love.”

“i will see you soon. dress nice for me,will you?”

you may have been nervous, but regardless tradition is tradition. for centuries, this town has a big party at the castle to celebrate the queen and her 2 year anniversary. your parents never told you why, and it was kinda confusing. why was it 2 years instead of 5 or 10? you stare at the mirror, preparing yourself to give a speech due to the suspicious activity in the town recently.

“Hello everyone. I know lately there have been some suspicious activity happening around here, but do not fear. my guards have this place locked down. we are safe here. we will have the traditional party at 6. dress as you like and just remember to be careful!” the crowd cheers. you smile and bow before rushing to get ready.

your makeup was done so heavenly. a beautiful smoky eye look to compliment your gorgeous black lace dress. of course, you asked your suitor to add a lace cape. yes, you were extra alright. his words kept replaying in your head. is he coming tonight? he said see you soon. he said to dress pretty. what’s gonna happen? you check your watch, seeing it’s almost time to open the doors. you got this.

it’s been an hour and so far everything has runned smoothly. people have come up to you and thanked you, took pictures with you and some old childhood friends came to catch up and they were totally not jealous.

it’s rounding 10:30 PM and most have left due to having work early next morning. you couldn’t relate. you didn’t realize you had pockets in your dress until now, when you tried to scratch your thigh. some fabrics always make you itch. there was something in there, however. maybe it was a surprise letter from the suitor, or someone in the castle or one of the townspeople? you opened it, all you read was a time.

“12 PM. i suggest you be in the castle, waiting for me on your throne.

-joongie”

you told the guards to end the party early, and to tell everyone to be safe and careful. you sat in your thone, not because he told you to. you wanted to. or maybe it was both. you told yunho of the little note you found and he has been by you ever since.

screams fill your ears. he’s here. yunho eased you, holding his weapon ready. the front doors swung open, revealing a bloody, wearing all black kim hongjoong.

“stop right now, hongjoong.” hongjoong laughs. “Jeong Yunho? it’s been a minute man. hope everything is well. don’t worry, i won’t your pretty little princess. all i want is a talk. “i’m not leaving her side. you’re dangerous.” he laughs, slightly louder. “dangerous? oh please, you remember how i was. i would cry if someone killed a fly near me. i need to talk to her alone.” before yunho could say anything, you stopped him. “i got this yunho, you go check on the other staff and stay away from here.” he hesitated but nodded and ran.

“Y/N. you look as lovely as ever. and you even wore black like i mentioned? you must love me.” you scoff. “i barely remembered you name. what makes you think you can come into my town and scare all these innocent people, when all you wanted was me?” he steps closer, now about a foot in front of you. “you don’t remember how mischievous and sneaky i was? i’d always make a little treasure hunt for you. if you lost your earring, i’d find it fast and make a little hunt for you just so you can find it. plus, the dandelions.” he always was a little mischievous. “so why did you come to see me, joongie?” he smiles. “you really are innocent, aren’t you? i know you know that i was madly in love with you, and still am.” your jaw drops. you knew he loved you then but still now? “you can’t love someone if you know little to nothing about them.” he steps closer, making you grip your hidden knife. gotta love having hidey spots. “really? i saw your eyes light up when they showed the photos of murders my parents did. i always saw it. the way you got excited when they would lock someone up. the way you smiled when they beheaded that guard that was secretly our bitch. you’re a psychopath just as i am. you can just easily hide it.” no, he’s not right. is he? you stood there, trying to find words to spit at him. “princess, listen to me. we can rule this town. there wouldn’t be any criminal activity at all. especially if my crew were part of the guards. i’ll spare you the details for now, but they get the job done efficiently.”

you step back, revealing your knife, which is ironically black. “if you want me joongie, come get me then.” he pulls his bloody knife out, flicking some blood on the marble floor. someone will clean this up later. “you said if i want you, well in what way sweetheart? i don’t want to kill you unless you harm me. but…” he pauses, a smirk crawling into his lips “i want you under me screaming for me. take that as you will, but tell me which way you want so i can know how to proceed. why did he have to be so damn attractive. “then throw your knife to the side. i will mine at the same time.” he lowers his knife, staring at you. “i’ll throw mine, but i’ll let you keep yours honey. in case you need it to protect you from actual harm.” his knife clatters on the floor, spots of blood flying from it. why was it so beautiful? his hands were raised in the air. “do what you want, your majesty.” shouldn’t have said that.

“follow me to my bedroom, i don’t want anyone to see what im about to do to you. it will absolutely scar them.” he smiles. “you’re a kinky queen? was not expecting that.” he starts to laugh but you point right at his adam’s apple. “i would watch what you say right now. i’m in charge of how you die.” he nods, following you.

you have the knife to his back, slowly leading him to sit on your bed. “i wanted to talk in here so it’s more private. this is my business, not the castles.” he smirks, nothing leaving his lips. “why do you..” you pause, feeling your anger boil up. you push him back and crawl on top of him. “always have to be so attractive, yet so dangerous? why do i want you when i know i shouldn’t? tell me why you have been fucking with my head since i was a kid!” you yell, not realizing how close your lips are to his. “because princess, that’s how attraction works. your brain and heart go at war until one wins. how about you end the war and kiss me?” he whispers, grabbing your cheek softly. your breath shakes before you crash your lips to his.

instantly, fire fills your body. you want to make him pay for making you feel this way about him. your tongues fought for dominance. you were going to win, but his hand comes to your throat, bringing you off his lips. “such a dirty girl. are you sure you want this?” yes, more than you fucking know. “maybe i should ask you the same thing, you fucking bottom.” that switched something in him, his eyes fueling with even more lust. he slaps your ass, you do your best to keep your moan in. you won’t win this easily, joongie. “such a filthy fucking mouth for a queen. don’t you think? you may be a brat to others, but you will not be one with me. you will take what i give you and obey me. or else…” his hand grazes your thigh, right near your knife. “we might have to see how well this knife really works.”

he stand you up off the bed. “im gonna take my sweet time with you princess. i’ve been waiting for this for years.” he slowly unzips your back, letting the dress fall to your hips. surprise, i wore expensive lingerie, waiting for you. “look at this, looks like you’re dirtier than i thought. the people think you’re this sweet, innocent woman. i know you’re nothing but a psychopath who loves to play a facade.” you step out of the dress, facing you and hongjoong in the mirror. “look at how sexy you are princess. so beautiful, so pure. this skin…” he stops to feel your body, his main focus on your chest. “so markable...fuck.” you turn to face him, smirking. “get on the bed, criminal.” he quirked his eyebrow, smiling at the name. you’re back on top of him, kissing him fiercely as you unbutton his shirt. his chest reveals so many tattoos that blend so beautifully together. you stopped to feel his toned ink covered chest. “like what you see princess?” you nod, feeling your way to where his pants border his hips. he leans you off him, pulling his pants down. holy shit. he looks so sexy. it looks so.. big. “you’re staring, princess.” you snap out of your thoughts, remembering where you were. he lays you so gently on the bed, slowly kissing down your body. he leaves marks all down your chest. “joongie-“ you moan in such bliss, your hands finding his hair to tug. you can feel your arousal almost running down your thigh. luckily this lingerie set was crotch-less.

he slowly runs his fingers through your folds, groaning when he felt your arousal drown his digits. “so fucking wet baby…fuck”. he slowly inserts one finger, both of you groaning in unison. “so tight..no one has taken proper care of you,have they princess?” you shake your head, your mind too clouded with lust to speak a word. please keep going joongie. he removed his finger, sucking your arousal off. “so sweet, sweeter than anything i’ve ever had.” he comes back to kiss you, slowly to allow you to taste your arousal. you push him back to take off his boxers, watching his cock spring free from the almost offensive material. holy shit. he is big. “don’t worry pretty, it will fit and i’ll make sure to not hurt you...too much” you laugh at his comment. you stick your tongue out to tease his tip. he hisses at the contact. “you better not fucking tease me y/n. you will not like the consequences.” try me. you so wanted to tease him, but you were desperate to have his cock in you one way or another. you slowly lower your mouth almost all the way to the base, beautiful moans and choked groans leaving hongjoong’s lips. “shit, your mouth is so perfect baby.” you lick the underside of his cock, spreading your saliva everywhere. he owes me for ruining my makeup. his hands reach behind your head, placing his hands on you, but not moving. i see what you want. you come off his cock to catch a breath. “fyi joongie, i know what you wanna do.” you smile and wink. he smirks. “what’s your safe world darling?” he grabs your cheek, rubbing it softly. “you’re gonna think it’s stupid, but it’s pepper.” he laughs. “i mean, if it works it works.” you laugh with him, staring into his eyes. why did i choose to ignore this side of him? you slowly ease his cock back into your mouth, his hands resuming his previous placement. he slowly thrust into your mouth, the tip reaching the back of your throat. “fuck..” he sighs. he slowly speeds up, your body is trying to make you gag, but you push it down. i’m not showing him any signs of weakness. his pace is almost inhumane, your throat beginning to burn at the force. “shit shit shit...god you’re so perfect.” he removes your head, lifting it to see your makeup ruined. “i already thought you were gorgeous, but with your makeup ruined, you look so heavenly.” you smile, crawling back into the bed. he follows you, crawling on top. “are you on birth control baby?” he asks as he leaves more hickies down your chest. “y-yes, just fuck me joongie, please” he lines himself up, coating his tip in your arousal. he slowly pushes himself in, watching your face scrunch in pleasure. fuck. he’s so big. “holy shit y/n, i am not gonna last long. your pussy is so fucking perfect” he inches himself in until he bottoms out. his eyes close, the pleasure being too much. “joongie, please move” he pulls back a little, just to push himself all the way back in. his pace started off slow, low groans emitting from his lips. “so beautiful baby, so fucking beautiful” he goes faster, moans filling the room. “so big, so full joongie” he smiles, kissing your forehead. i love him. a knot in your stomach begins to tighten. “so-so close joongie-e..please please let me cum” he thrusts so fast, bringing his hand to rub your clit. “me too angel. you can do it baby, cum all over my fucking cock. show me what a dirty girl you really are.” the knot snaps, your vision flashing white. “good girl.” you’re still coming down from your euphoria when you feel his hot cum paint your walls. he eases himself out of you and lays next to you. “are you okay princess? did i hurt you?” you laugh. that’s really ironic. “im okay joongie. you didn’t hurt me.” you cuddle up in his arms, not wanting to leave your bed. “i know you’re comfy, but i have to clean you up” he gets up, grabbing your hand. “to your bath, my queen”

warmth fills your body. you’ve never let anyone bathe you before. you were way too insecure and wouldn’t dare make one of your workers do so. “such a beautiful woman.” he washes your body, being very careful around your chest area. “how am i gonna hide these baby?” you pout. he giggles, kissing your cheek. “don’t worry my love, i have a right hand woman that is absolutely excellent in makeup. she’s good at covering wounds and etc, so i assume she can hide a hickey.” you smile, tiredness filling your eyes. he dries you off and carries you back to your bed. “i would let you wear my clothes, but they’re kinda dirty at the moment..” you and him laugh. “i’ll be okay. but you owe me.” he nods and bows. he joins you in your bed, cuddling you close. “thank you princess for finally accepting my love. you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this. us together, you.” you were too tired to form a sentence, so you hummed in agreement. should i tell him? you both lay in silence, basking in each other’s warmth. “baby?” you ask, opening your eyes. you lean your head up to see hongjoong’s face. “yes my love?” you smile and kiss him. “I love you.” he smiles and brings you impossibly closer.

“i love you more my queen.”

[forthehpfanboys]

Sweeter Than Sugar

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Reader; they/them.

Summary: Cedric knew he shouldn't. Everyone knew he shouldn't, but he did. He fell for a Slytherin and there was really no going back. Luckily for him, you were.. Soft. Towards him, anyway.

Warnings: Swearing, pining Cedric.

Notes: Reader is badass/kinda punky. My first Cedric story so please enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

Cedric couldn’t answer the most basic questions about you. All he knew was that he really, really wanted to get to know you. Like so bad his friends were tempted to throw him into the Black Lake with how often he spoke about you. He wanted to tell himself that the reason he was pining fascinated with you was because of the rush he received when being so close to someone the half-bloods and muggle borns called a ‘bad boy’, but he knew it was so much deeper than that. He wanted to hate it, he wanted to hate you, but he couldn’t.

You were special. It was clearer than crystal. You were from a pureblood family, no shock there, and sorted into the house full of snakes but once he saw your fist connect with Goyle’s jaw, he, and everyone else at Hogwarts, knew you were different. The brunette found himself questioning so much every time he gazed at you. Your painted nails, the vast abundance of bracelets covering your arms like sleeves, the black boots, the confidence- you knew you were powerful.

The one thing you didn’t know, however, was how you wiggled your way into Golden Boys head like a dumb muggle jingle and basically held free real estate there. He wasn’t one for sitting and watching on the side lines, but you were intimidating. He wasn’t scared of you, but more so scared of being on your bad side. Cedric did not want to be on the receiving end of that hit. He could still hear the thunk of Goyle’s body crashing to the ground, and see the soul leave Draco’s body after the thunk.

The brunette shook his head at the thought and awkwardly cleared his throat. He planned on talking to you for the first time today, determined to get some of those basic questions (what’s your favorite color? Favorite animal? Do you prefer snogging boys or girls? Are you good at potions?) answered. He fixed his scarf and uniform for the fifth time, his eyes casted down to the fabric to make sure it was perfect and ignored the groans of annoyance from his friends around him. Cedric’s head shot up when his friend nudged his shoulder rough enough to knock him out of his head. He followed the gaze of said friend and suddenly found it a lot harder to breathe in the cold air. You were walking right across the courtyard to the bridge entrance to his right, no scarf to cover your face from the cold, leaving your cheeks and nose the cutest shade of pink. He noticed you didn’t really dawn.. Any protection besides your school robes to protect you from the cold.

“This is it.” He spoke up, adjusting his uniform again. In his head, he was walking over to you, already introducing himself and offering his scarf to hopefully create a nice impression, but he was stuck. The usually confident male didn’t move. Did you even notice what you did to him without even looking him in the eyes? Oh, pygmy puff droppings, he had to look you in the eyes- 

With that idea now in his head, the Hufflepuff simply decided maybe later and turned in the other direction. He didn’t know if he could genuinely look you in the eyes without crashing and destroying his chances to get to know you, but one of his friends grabbed his scarf and all but threw him down the hallway, leaving him stumbling after you.

“Hey!” he called out way too loud from behind you, wincing at how his voice echoed in the tunnel like structure. He adjusted his scarf again, avoiding your confused gaze as you turned around, this time loosening it. The scarf didn’t stop his body from heating up in embarrassment. “Um-Hi.” He cleared his throat, now only a few steps away from you.

“Hello.” You chuckled out, as you cocked an eyebrow. He almost didn’t notice how your eyes looked him up and down before a grin spread across your lips. He looked over your shoulder before talking the final few steps forward. 

“How are you?” His gaze soon met yours, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was expecting you to freak out. His short greeting had you snorting into the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, did I say som-”

“No, no!” You cut him off, your hand moving from your lips to your hair. “It’s not you, just.. An interesting choice of greeting.” Snickering, your fingers ran through your (h/c) locks before falling to your side. “No offense. As for how I’m doing, it all depends on who wants to know.” Your hands found their way to your trouser pockets as your head tilted out of curiosity. 

“Cedric. Cedric Diggory.” He rushed his hand out while mentally shaming himself for not saying his name before asking how your day had been. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, a nervous smile spreading across his lips as you shook his hand- hopefully his palm wasn’t sweaty. 

“Well, Cedric, (Y/n) is doing quite well!” You casted him a warm smile that had his heart melting inside of his chest. His nervousness was quickly melting away, thank Merlin. “What did ya need?”

“Oh, just wanted to get to know you, is all. Sometimes you look like you could use a friend or two.” Cedric smiled right back at you. He really wanted to know how you ended up in the house filled with snakes if you were such a sweetheart. Little did he know he was about to find out.

“Well, some people don’t like how I carry myself.” You shrugged, shifting your bag filled with books to your other shoulder. “But ya know I don- ..What?” Your tone shifted drastically as you peered over his shoulder. Your eyes hardened at Draco and his pathetic gang of idiots as they started their usual trouble making. 

“Found yourself a boyfriend, eh?” Draco called out, while Crabbe stuck his tongue out at you. The problem with taking down one of them the first day they harassed you, led to you being a target they pursued from a distance.  “That’d be cute if he was worth your lousy time.”

You turned back to Cedric, casting him a quick smile before speaking an apology and cracking your knuckles. 

“I’d love to continue our conversation, DigDug, but I gotta handle some morons who don’t know tit for tat.” You put a hand on his shoulder and gently stepped around him before advancing toward the group slowly while ripping off your shoulder bag and throwing it off to the side. The Hufflepuff watched you the entire time, ignoring the tingling of his shoulder. 

“Um-Yeah, no- go ahead?” Cedric's eyes followed the bag, watching it slam against the wall with a deafening thud, your books sliding free, before turning back to you.

“Oh yeah? How’s your pathetic boyfriend doing? Reckon his nose stopped bleeding shortly after I broke it.” You loved watching Malfoy turn pale as you advanced. “Maybe you’d like to see how it feels.” You grabbed the front of his robe and yanked him to your chest. 

While you were threatening to beat the snot out of the pureblood idiot, all Cedric could think about was A: how strong you had to be to throw a bag filled with textbooks that hard and B: how he already had a cutesy nickname. He came back to focus just in time to see Draco wiggling from your grasp and the group sprinting away, which triggered him to hurry over to the bag and father up your stuff. When you turned back around, you noticed the Hufflepuff politely holding the bag out to you. 

“Oh, thank you!” You smiled, taking it from him and putting it over your shoulder again. “Sorry you had to see that. Malfoy can be a git.” You laughed a little, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“I totally understand. He deserves someone to put him in his place.” He grinned like a love sick teenager when a huge smile spread across your  lips and you bounced on your feet.

“Come on! Walk me to my next class!” You grabbed his wrist and tugged him down the pathway in the winding bridge. He didn’t realize how hard his heart was beating until you spoke up again. “So, you’re fine with my methods of putting idiots in their place?”

Merlin, he was smitten for you.

Since that fateful day, you two spent almost everyday together. It ranged from helping each other study, patching you up after a fight and even singing off key right at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Eventually, your friendship molded into a partnership. Not much changed, as you both expected, but it just became romantic. Singing muggle love songs while gazing at the stars, double the cutesy nicknames and even going to the Yule Ball together when the time came. 

Eventually, the cold season shifted to a warmer climate, leaving students trying to hide from the soldering sun and less than helpful warm breezes. Currently, you and Cedric were sitting down by the Weeping Willow, using it for shade. It was perfect. You were leaning into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to play with his fingers while he read. 

“Hey, DigDug?” Your soft voice broke the silence as he nodded his head, silently telling you had his attention. He let out a soft hum, telling you to continue on. “I have a secret to tell you.” You put on a guilty expression, in case he was watching and turned toward the lake across from you. 

“Whatever it is, love, I’m still gonna be by your side.” His arm tightened around you in a secure manner, worry flooding his mind when you let out a shaky sigh. 

“Ok, well.. I.. I wanted to tell you I.. I love you.” You smirked at him, the guilt one big act. He stared at you blankly before slamming his book and setting it beside him. “Babe?” You spoke up when he didn’t say anything. “Ced?” Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. You felt it drain just as quickly as it hit you when he lightly shoved you over, a chuckle leaving his lips. 

“I love you too, sugar!” Cedric laid down on top of you, a smile across his lips. You ran a hand through his hair as you let out a grumble over it not being fair. He snorted, laying his head on your chest and just hearing your heartbeat. He ran his hand down your free arm and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I seriously love you so much.”

“I love you too, you big softie.” You laughed, which sounded more like a wheeze. Probably because of the pressure of him across your abdomen. You were the big softie, whether you wanted to admit it or not. You were sweeter than sugar, but you could turn sour so quick you could make a dragon dizzy. Luckily, he always favored those kinds of candies.

[crab-instruments]

Dust in the Wind Part 5 (tbb)

Master <Part 4 Part 6>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: General audience, fighting, injury, panic/stress

Words: 2.2k

a/n: Action! We fight some people. Notes at the end. I hope the action is somewhat easy to follow and interesting.

My writing process involves me thinking of fight scenes as I listen to music while I walk, this one is choreographed to Rat A Tat by Fall Out Boy. This is unimportant and uninteresting but is how I get a lot of my ideas.

Surprisingly, this is the longest part of written and I cut it short. Thanks for all the likes and reblogs, y'all. Keeps me going.

Cid had given the Batch a mission to the Outer Rim. Tech had told the squad what planet but you had zoned out. Restarting your life every time something goes south was taking a toll on you and while your new crew was accommodating, it didn’t stop the stress of existing. You had gotten closer with the Batch on the trip to the next mission since it was a bit further out and you had time to get to comfortable. Wrecker and Omega seemed to enjoy your company the most, wanting to play games and share stories with you. Otherwise you helped Tech and Echo around the ship and chatted with them. Down times were spent with Hunter in the cockpit, watching hyperspace.

“Maxis… do you know how to sew?” Wrecker had caught you outside the armory, holding something behind his back.

You blinked, not used to seeing Wrecker so timid. “Uh yeah, I can sew. What do you need?” With a swift movement, he brought a red and black tooka doll between you. One of the arms had a rip in it, showing the stuffing inside.

His eyes looked sad as he said, “Lula got caught on a hook.”

“Ah, that should be easy. I can patch Lula up while you’re on your mission, so she’ll be ready when you get back.”

Wrecker smiled wide and pulled you into a hug. When you separated, he then held Lula out for you to take. As your hand touched the doll, your senses were overwhelmed with a rush of emotions and your head filled with memories that the doll contained. It stunned you for a moment and you had to close your eyes, not having experienced a force echo in a while. Luckily none of the memories were traumatic, just loud since Wrecker had strong emotions.

“Are you okay, Maxis?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, sorry. I was just thinking how cute Lula was,” you said with a smile.

The time between taking Lula from Wrecker and entering the planet’s atmosphere was fuzzy. Your mind was still on experiencing the force echo. Psychometry was a force ability that few Jedi had but most of the time it was a pain. You had to train a lot to get it under control when you were younger and when people found out about it, they wanted to do study you and learn everything about it they could. Since you had left the Jedi life and mostly disconnected with the Force, the echoes had dissipated. Having one suddenly didn’t sit well.

Tech’s voice grounded you back to the present as he alerted everyone he was landing the ship soon. Hunter appeared in the seat across from you, something in his hand. “This mission shouldn’t take very long, just a few hours. Here’s a comm, we will let you know when we are on our way back or if something goes wrong. I know you can’t fly but it would be useful if you could get the ship ready in case we need to leave in a hurry.” You nodded and took the comm. “Will you be okay, Maxis? I did say this would be dangerous. Although it’s unlikely, they could come to scout the Marauder.”

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine. If anything goes wrong on my end I can let you know as well, though I bet the worst thing is I prick my finger sewing Lula together or shock myself with a live wire.” Hunter’s face softened and he seemed to relax a bit. Your eyes held his until the ship shook when it landed. When he got up, he put his hand on your shoulder for a moment before getting ready to head out.

You watched as they shuffled out of the ship, saying a quiet “be safe, please,” as they disappeared from your view.

The reality of being by yourself seemed to set in, making the Marauder daunting. There was Gonky, at least. Shaking that off, you settled in and got to work fixing up Lula’s arm. You made quick work, almost wishing you had more to work on. Taking apart the ship to make repairs was risky if they needed to leave quickly.

Slumping back in your chair, you held Lula in front of you. “What do you think I should do, Lula? I could go clean the air filter or organize the wires in one of the control panels, even though Tech does a pretty good job at color coding them. A few of the sensors could be looked at but… I’m still a little stumped on… why I got a force echo from you. You are special, I’m sure, but… I guess I could meditate for a bit, see if that helps clear things up.”

You crossed your legs in the chair and put Lula in your lap. Meditating was supposed to be relaxing, but it was harder to find a calm now. It felt empty, in a way. You tried hard though, seeking an answer as to why now.

After a few moments, your eyes shot open. Something was wrong. You gasped for breath the feeling of overwhelming apprehension. Someone was heading toward the ship. Three, maybe four, people and they didn’t feel like your crew. Hunter did say he would alert you when they came back and it hasn’t been that long.

Swiftly, you got to your feet and headed towards the cockpit where the comm was still sitting on a chair. However, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a white bucket helmet walk around the front of the ship through the windshield. Troopers. Your heart pounded in your ears and you sank quickly to the floor. The fear of being caught by the Empire was arguably your biggest fear, they hunted Jedi ruthlessly, even hearing about troopers trained to fight Jedi specifically.

A noise came from where the entrance ramp was, they were trying to get on the ship. You remembered that Tech had told you about an escape hatch in the cockpit, so you quietly crawled to it and lifted it up. You did your best to make sure that you were in the clear and dropped down.

“Dank farrik! It’ll be another minute to open the hatch,” one of the troopers exclaimed. It seemed the others were spread out around the area, so making a run for it wasn’t necessarily the smartest decision but taking on four troopers by yourself wasn’t wise either. Close quarters combat was a strength of yours, training to not depend on your lightsaber was a priority for your Master. Long range combat would be more of a struggle, as your shooting accuracy left something to be desired. One of the reasons you ended up leaving the Order was it became less about peace keeping and more about being a soldier, and the senseless death had caught up to you.

You did your best to keep calm. Everything in your body told you to run, escape, survive, but… what about the ship? This was your home now. Hunter… the squad… depended on this ship. If you didn’t do something to protect it, what would happen?

Unfortunately for you, the choice to run or fight was taken from you, when the trooper noticed you crouching by the front of the ship.

“Hey! Foun—” before he could finish his sentence, you rushed him. The trooper had his blaster pulled out when he saw you. You used the element of surprise to go for a disarm, checking his blaster arm with your left, getting your right hand on the opposite side to redirect his hand. The blaster clearing your stomach as you brought your right arm across your body. While sweeping with your right, you used your left to get a grip of his wrist. With this, you were able to free your right hand to strip the blaster from him, squeezing his wrist to force his hand lose and you were able to swipe it out of his grasp. Once the blaster was out of his hand, you pulled his left arm back, hooked your foot behind his right to destabilize him, and then gripped the front of his armor tightly to put as much power as you could into pushing him into the ground, you kneeling next to him. While not quiet strong enough to knock him out, it was enough to stun him for a moment since you used his and your weight against him.

You heard a movement behind the ship, the other troopers had been alerted. Scrambling for the blaster, you switched it to stun and shot twice, knocking out one trooper. The third trooper came from around the front of the ship and shot. You had just enough time to twist your body and dodge a majority of the shot, but it still skinned your left arm, leaving a nice wound for later. Two more shots from you to knock him out.

While your arm screamed in pain, you had one last trooper to deal with. Keeping crouched, you rounded the front of the ship.

“Freeze!” The trooper was right in front of you and you were staring down the barrel. Kark! Slowly, you put your hands up in a half surrender, but in that moment you thought of a plan.

“Catch!” You tossed the blaster towards him and the trooper, confused, went to catch it. You pulled your knife out of your thigh holster and rushed him. Using his now bent knee, you jumped and wrapped your legs around his mid-section, using the boost of the jump to shove him to the ground. You pressed the blade to his neck, ready, but hesitated. You couldn’t follow through, even when your life seemed to depend on it.

No good deed goes unpunished. The trooper pushed you off but you land within arms reach of your fallen blaster and you made quick work of stunning him.

For a moment, you sat there, breathing heavily and you hands shaking. Your pulse raged in your ears and adrenaline rushed through your veins.

Achievement Unlocked: You protected the Havoc Marauder! But now what? And what if… the squad finds out? Something about them knowing you took down the troopers didn’t sit right. The odds were stacked against you, what if they start getting suspicious? What if… What if Hunter gets mad?

Checking the trooper in front of you, you found a pair of handcuffs. More than likely they would all have handcuffs and you could move their bodies away from the ship, effectively disposing of them.

One by one, you dragged the troopers bodies away, putting them in some foliage after handcuffing one arm and the opposite ankle behind their back. Hopefully this would keep them relatively immobilized when they woke up. After moving the last one, you could no longer handle the pain of the blaster shot and headed to the ship.

You looked for the med kit and handled it with shaky hands. After applying the bacta and patching it up, you did your best to hide the wound with your sleeve. You then went to your backpack and grabbed the small notebook and pencil. Something about writing felt better than using a holopad, so this is where you kept your notes for supplies and such. Though it was difficult, you wrote ‘bacta and bandages’ to your supplies list. Hopefully they wouldn’t get mad at you using their supplies but just in case, you would just silently replace it. No one would know.

As everything seemed to wear off, all you wanted to do was crawl into a small area and hide. You found an area between some crates and sank down, willing yourself to melt into the floor. In an effort to calm yourself, you muttered a few bars of the song that had stuck with you.

“♪ Same old song

Just a drop of water in an endless sea

All we do

Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see

Dust in the wind

All we are is dust in the wind ♪”

A beep cut into your thoughts. “Maxis, come in, do you read me?” Hearing his voice, you became renewed with a sort of energy. You stood up, walked over to the cockpit once more, and grabbed the comm. “Loud and clear, Hunter.”

“Great, we’re done and on our way back, we had a small set back but no other problems.”

“I’ll start up the ship for you.”

************************************************************************

When Hunter and the squad got close, Hunter sense something was off. He signaled for the group to halt as he went to go investigate. Hearing some slow breathing from a few sources, he approached the bush carefully and paused when he noticed four knocked out troopers tied up chaotically. Tech noticed Hunter’s hesitation and walked forward.

“What did you fin—Oh. How did four Imperial Troopers end up here? You don’t supposed they went for the Marauder and Maxis took them out?”

“Who else would have? Four troopers… they have the strength to take out four troopers by themselves?” Hunter sounded bewildered. He finally looked at Tech, “Maxis didn’t attempt to alert us and I missed it, did they?”

“No, but it could have been inconvenient at the time. However, there wouldn’t be a reason why they wouldn’t have contacted us after dealing with the situation. Perhaps something else went wrong.”

With that, Hunter signaled the rest of the crew to board the ship with caution.

Part 6 _______________________________________________________

Notes:

Psychometry/Force Echo: This is the next Jedi Fallen Order reference, also seen in 1 or 2 episodes of TCW. I based the reader's ability from the game. Fight scene choreo: Warning, video contains fighting scenes. I love MGS and specifically the CQC in MGSV. For this scene, the first disarm is a combo of the moves described in 1:08 (beginning) and 4:01 (ending). It was mainly supposed to be the second one but the arms are switched so as an artist of my craft, I must adapt. The last move is mostly just the Peter Pan jump from 5:23. I tried to describe the action as best as I could without being like "left right must left right" but here is the visual aspect of it.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Shadowed Grey Eyes

the continued rollercoaster of the cancer arc ...

Our Moments: Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max) Chapter 5: Shadowed Grey Eyes @today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He heard her cough in the next room. He’d been spending more nights there, claiming whatever the hell he wanted because she was getting thinner, quieter, slower. She was looking at him with pale eyes that counted the minutes until she could go to sleep. He carried her luggage for her, even though she insisted she could do it but then left him to put it in the car while she settled in, head back, eyes closed before the engine had time to warm.

He heard her cough in the next room and silent footfall sneaking down the hall, he saw her sitting up in bed. Not wanting to scare her, he knocked lightly on the bedroom doorframe before, “you okay?”

Sliding off the bed, she stumbled past him, the blood showing plainly on her shirt, smeared across her neck, “can you deal with that, please?”

Mulder looked in the room, seeing the dark spot on her pillow. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath, then went to work, stripping the sheets, presoaking them in her washing machine while he dunked the pillow in her now filling bathtub, invading Scully’s own cleanup efforts in the bathroom. Neither thought anything of it at this point, having shared the burden of vomit, blood, tears, and fear in equal measure. Back in the bedroom, he replaced the linens, fluffed a second pillow, then found her clean pajamas, handing them to her while she sat on the closed toilet, bringing herself back to some semblance of quiet center amongst the chaos.

Settling himself on the edge of the bathtub after he turned it off, water leeching the blood from the pillow, he played with the hem of the clean shirt he’d just handed her, “need some help?”

And instead of a ‘yes’ or ‘no’, she simply banged her fist against his thigh in frustration, standing, dropping the clothes to the floor, pounding her still clenched hand now on the bathroom counter, rattling soap and toothbrush. He stopped her as soon as he could, grabbing her arms, “hey … hey!”

“What?! Let go of me.”

“No. Come pound the mattress or a pillow or something but you keep doing that to the counter and you’re going to crack the shit out of your hands.”

She fought him for another second, then caught sight of herself in the mirror, Mulder behind her, agonized look clear on his face. The fight left her instantly and holding his reflected gaze, “I’m so tired.”

Enveloping arms around shoulders, gentle for fear of breaking her frail bones, he pulled her back against his chest, head dropped down beside hers, “your bed’s ready so let me help you change and you can go back to sleep.”

Both knew that wasn’t the tired she was referring to, “I can change if you wouldn’t mind getting me some juice, please?”

Some days, she did need his help but he never pushed, “back in a minute.” She was just slipping her clean shirt over her head when he returned, Mulder dutifully ignoring her white back and the ribs he could see as she stretched, “apple is all we have left. I can go shopping for more tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Thinking only of her bed at this point, she didn’t answer, noticing the towel he’d spread over her pillow in case it happened again. She stood there, shoulders hunched, looking at that towel until Mulder asked quietly, “would you like me to take it off?”

“No. That’s the problem.” Turning, she regarded him, brute force honestly the call of the night, “I’ll need it again and I don’t have enough sheets and pillowcases to do this more than once a night.”

Her hair limp, her eyes shadowed grey, her skin a sallow cream, he handed her the juice box, straw at the ready, as he leaned in and kissed her cool temple, “I’m going to bunk in here tonight, all right?”

Barely a nod, he retrieved his pillow and quilt, waiting until she had climbed in bed before turning out the light, moving to his side of the queen size mattress. The washing machine hummed from the hall, every so often a car would swish past through a puddle, and a steady rain tatted the windows. He wasn’t tired, years of sleepless nights preparing him for the next eight hours. Reaching across the bed to her, he gently set his thumb on her forehead, rubbing lightly in circles, “this okay?”

His palm warmed her cheek and shutting her eyes, “yeah … yes … thank you.”

He rubbed another minute or two, then scooted himself carefully closer, “I’m cold. Keep me warm.”

“Mulder.”

“What? It’s freezing in here.”

“It’s May.”

“What’s your point?”

She did love him so completely at times, it was almost funny, “I apparently don’t have one. Come here.”

Receiving the green flag for approach, he invaded the rest of her space, “you should roll over. My breath is going to kill you.”

He’d brushed his teeth right before bed but this was their way as of late so she rolled, soon painted on him, feeling small yet perfect instead of small yet dying … at least for the moment. He was warm, though, God, he was warm.

It didn’t take long to slip into half-sleep, perpetual dull headache moving to the background for what she hoped was the rest of the night, “if we could take a drive right now, where would we go?”

He wanted to cry at the prospect of her being too sick to wander with him, be it down the road, across the country or around the world, “I’d like to drive through Ireland. There are at least 10000 shades of green and air so pure it would probably scare the hell out of my lungs. We’d look for leprechauns and rainbows and drink beer and eat fish and never come home.”

“Would you find a nice Irish girl to settle down with? Have eight or nine kids?”

Kissing the back of her head, “I’ve found a nice Irish girl already and I don’t need kids, just her.”

“What if I find a nice man in a kilt?”

“That’s Scotland.”

“Sorry. I think I’m almost asleep. Would you wear a kilt if I asked you to?”

Knowing they were about to stumble into nonsense territory, he let himself enjoy it, “I’d have to go authentic. Nothing underneath.”

“Except maybe … your nice,” her words slurred sideways, “Irish girl.”

He had to stash that one away for another time, “where would you go?”, anything to keep her talking to him for one more second, anything to hear her voice one more time before she fell asleep.

“A quiet farmhouse with a wraparound porch and chairs to rock in. Maybe a birdhouse and a welcome mat and a dog to sit on it. We’d have a long driveway and a gate at the end and your couch and my bed.” Turning in his arms, she slipped her hand over his side, leg in between his, “it’d be perfect.”

Praying to a God he didn’t believe in for the healed soul of the woman he did, he moved his head to find her lips, pressing them tightly to his, whispering into her mouth, “I love you.”

She was already asleep, however, dreaming of an unremarkable house in a healed future that was rapidly slipping away, one cancerous cell at a time

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Inked

Still on hiatus. But I found an old piece of writing and I revamped it just a smidge! It was originally published in 2018 on calumh-excess. Which is now deactivated. Hooray for finding pieces!

Calum's been watching Jay for a while. She's cute, talented, but a bit of mystery. Should he really give into her? What will it take for him to admit he has a crush?

Enjoy my masterlist (on hiatus)

______________

He watched her sometimes for far too long. The way her tongue stuck out as she pulled the skin and her hand worked steadily with the needle made it hard for him to resist. Her face always seemed to catch the harsh fluorescent lights and reflect it back so that it twinkled against her skin. A slight sheen, but nothing just of ethereal. He wasn’t even interested in any new ink, not seriously anyway. He had slowed on the ink train, but the shop his tattoo artist owned was a nice place to hang out sometimes. When he wanted to get out of his house but didn’t want to actually go somewhere, he could hang out here, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun, poke his hand at trying a design here or there. They weren't great. He hadn't considered him this kind of artist, but the shop felt like a second home.

Besides, having her around was a more than welcomed bonus.

He wasn’t even sure what it was about her. She showed up about a year and a half ago, under an apprenticeship. Calum’s artist was unsure of her, much like everyone else that asked to work under him. A hazard of the job, according to the job, according to Calum's artist. However, her drawings spoke volumes; the colors and line work were impeccable. She had talent and knew it without being cocky about it. Well, sometimes she wasn’t. Calum watched her run into the occasional asshole that tried to belittle her; she always put her foot down in those situations. He didn’t fault her.

Today’s no different. When Calum walks in, he greets the guy at the front desk, eyes searching for her. He spots her in the back with her oversized frames creating a small glare over her brown eyes. He never quite got the appeal of the grandma-shaped glasses trend, but on her, they worked. She looked wise but soft. The glass pulled him in, felt like she was seeing into his soul. Maybe she was; maybe the pain made people more vulnerable than they anticipated--entrusting someone, a stranger in some ways, to permanently mark you and not fuck it up. Whatever the reason, looking at her felt timeless. Like she had seen it all, and you are just waiting for you to spill all the secrets.

“You finally going to get some new ink?” Calum’s artist teases.

Calum shakes his head, turning his attention away from her. “You finally took her training wheels off?”

“Your girlfriend’s got mad skills. I couldn’t baby her forever. Jay works hard on each piece, learned fast. Got a steady ass hand and pretty gentle for handling a needle.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, because you haven’t hardly even talked to her. Go for it, you wuss. What’s the worst she says? No?”

Calum exhales a chuckle. "I mean, the worst she stabs me with the tattoo gun. But considering the ink I'm already sporting, I doubt that's really all that bad.”

“Jay would not do that unless you asked for it, ff course. But really, go on, ask her out.”

Calum glances back at Jay. It’s a nickname. No one in the shop calls her by her full name. The only reason Calum heard it was when a client came asking for her. Jay was quick to correct them.

She wipes, clearing excess ink, before dipping back into the small cup. Jay smiles up at her client. Calum's sure they appreciate the reprise. Getting tattoos weren't always fun, but bearable enough to forget about it and get more.

Calum turns his gaze away. “I recommended you to a friend,” he says, hoping that he’ll escape the teasing. It’s not likely to happen. But at least he tries to minimize the ridicule.

"I appreciate it. Are they a first-timer?"

"A second-timer, but they're visiting town and want some new ink. I figured best not to fuck them over."

The two men laugh before Calum's escorted back to look through some new designs. Just in case something sparks his interest. Calum's visit is supposed to be short, but there's not much else on his to-do list for the day. He could kill a few hours here.

When Calum comes out from the back, after spending too much time pretending art was ever a talent of his, he looks for Jay again. She’s not in her corner, nor is she at the front. Calum shrugs, figuring she might have gone for lunch, or home depending.

As Calum walks to his car, he checks his phone. Nothing major's happened.

“Leaving so soon?” A voice states. Calum knows that voice, a little gravelly, mostly sweet. He’s dreamt of it every so often. He prays to hear it when he visits the shop.

He turns to Jay, who leans against the bricks. A vape is wrapped in her fingers. “Gotta get some dinner, maybe make a run to the grocery store," Calum returns. "I've gotten lazy."

She nods. “This reminds me that I can't survive off BLTs forever," she laughs.

"You could try, but I think you'd need other vegetables and some fruit in that mix too."

She pushes up on her glass with a nod. "Ah, yes, gotta get the whole food pyramid." It goes silent between them and Calum gives another nod, raising a few fingers to signal his departure while still keeping his phone in a secure enough grip.

"Hey, wait!" Jay calls out again, taking a half step forward. Calum turns to her. "Can I give you something before you leave?”

Calum nods, not trusting his voice. What would she give him? She nods back to the front door, taking back that initial half-step. “It's inside. Give me like two minutes.”

She disappears inside and Calum stands, his phone still in his hands, staring at the spot she once stood. Just as quickly as she disappeared, Jay reappears. In hand is her portfolio. She flips through before stopping and slides the heavy-duty drawing paper out.

Calum stares down at the green and black drawing. It’s his face, for the most part, that stares back at him. It’s distorted by a crystal ball that glows green. Inside are some instruments and something else, but right now he can’t really put it all together. His eyes keep moving over the lightning bolt, the crystal ball, the uncanniness of his face on a piece of paper, his three-dimensional face somehow translated perfectly into a 2-D space.

“Holy shit, this is amazing,” he breathes. “Thank you,” he says looking back up to her.

She shrugs with a smile. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously, this is so fucking awesome. I’m going to frame it,” he gushes. He’s too excited to be nervous, or be embarrassed. "What are the dimensions?"

“I'm just really glad you don’t find it too creepy. I was watching you a couple weeks ago when you stopped by. It just sort hit me, the image of the crystal ball and lightning bolt; I had to draw it,” Jay elaborates. "And it's 8.5 by 11--standard printer paper size."

Calum shakes his head, staring over the drawing again. It feels so delicate suddenly in his hands. It’s almost like Jay recognizes the change in his handling. She shuffles her load in her hands and pulls out an empty plastic over. “Here,” she laughs handing it over. “So it doesn’t smudge or anything if you're worried."

Calum slides it in. “Thank you. Again. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Calum. Good luck with your grocery store trip and dinner,” Jay nods and then heads back inside. Calum watches the way the denim stretches across her hips, the way her hair billows just a little in the breeze of her strut.

For a moment, Calum can't move. The weight of the paper in his hand is hardly ounces, but it holds him--traps him to the point of the sidewalk. Jay thought enough of him to draw him. What did it all mean? Should he have found the courage to ask her out? He could walk back inside. But what if she didn't like him like that? Would it be too weird?

Calum blinks up into the hardly settling sun and thinks to himself, the second he can come back here, it better be with a bit more courage and possibly a gift certificate. No one can be made about free food, right?

It’s months before Calum can visit the shop again. The tour is a whirlwind and he only gets a few days off between legs. Not long enough to get back home or feel like he had any energy to drive out to the shop. But now that he's settled back in at home, he knows exactly where he's going.

It’s not his typical practice to just walk in and ask for a tattoo. But given the ink already on him, worse things could happen. When he pulls open the door, he notices it's kind of slow. Jay greets him at the front desk. “Hey, stranger,” she grins.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks in return.

“Pretty good. How was it? The tour? See any cool places?”

He nods. “Yeah, got to explore a few cities.” He taps his fingers against the wooden desk. “Do you have an appointment anytime soon?”

Jay shakes her head. “My 2 o’clock had to reschedule. I’m here until 4 before I see anyone. Why? What's tickling your fancy?”

“I was wondering if you could do a tat for me? I know this is very last minute and if you need me to come in another day this week, I totally can.” His words run into each other; his palms start to sweat. He wipes them on his jeans.

Jay laughs, holding up a hand. “Whoa, pump the brakes. One, what are you looking for?”

“You know that drawing you did for me?” She nods. “I was kind of hoping you could create something with just the crystal ball and lightning bolt. I know the drawing itself is kind of big.”

A grin lifts her cheeks; Calum’s heart settles for a second. “I think I can do that. Where are you thinking to put it?”

“Inner bicep.” He watches her gaze land on his arm. The t-shirt is baggy, he at least thought about that with enough advance.

“Give me 30 minutes to come up with some sketches.” Jay pushes away from the front desk and heads to the back, but not for calling to the shop to watch the front desk.

Calum slides into the seat at the front, leg bouncing as he settles down. This isn’t even his first tattoo, but the nerves flood his body. His scalp tingles. The thirty minutes move by too fast, but also too slow simultaneously. The seconds feel like hours but move by milliseconds.

Eventually, Jay resurfaces, waving him over to her. He walks back and looks at the sketches she places out in front of him. There are two different ones. One’s a bit more minimalistic, which is her style, with the lightning bolt in the background and a simple crystal ball at the point. The other is a bit bolder, the ball has a slightly warped edge where it connects to the bolt. It looks like the bolt is melting the glass ball.

“I can whip up more if neither one of them are quite right. But I wasn’t sure if it wanted something a bit more crisp and sharp or not,” Jay explains.

Calum admits that most of his tattoos are more cleaned up and sharp. He likes the idea of playing with a new style. “I like the second one,” he says, tapping it.

“You sure?” He nods, he’s never been more sure of something in his life. “Which bicep? Let me line it up and make sure it’ll fit.”

Calum lifts his left arm up for her. Laying the stencil over his skin, Jay notes she has to make a couple small tweaks. But after that, she’ll be ready. They discuss full color, or just outline, or shading, price, and a few other details before Jay concludes with, “Hop in my seat. I’ll be there soon.”

Calum nods and walks over to her station. Her stuff is already laid out, probably for her canceled 2 o’clock. It’s about five more minutes before Jay returns with the final stencil. Calum rolls up the sleeve of his shirt before she places the stencil. Happy with the placement, he stretches out on the table.

Jay gets herself ready before she brings the needle over his skin. The first puncture always makes him jolt a little, the first jab of pain causes his heart to race. “Do you plan on relaxing now that you're back home?"

"Yeah, for a little bit. I might go see my family, but I know we'll be back in the studio soon. Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"I mean exciting things happen every day at this place. But it's not like I could recall them all now."

Calum hums, acknowledging her statement, but not quite sure what to say next. Luckily, Jay's faster to fill in the silence. "You do realize you didn’t have to get a tattoo to have a real conversation with me?” Jay teases, pushing up her glasses.

Calum’s cheeks heat. “It’s not like that,” he chuckles.

“Well, that’s how it seems.”

“You were always busy when I stopped by. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Not always,” she laughs. “But it’s alright. You’re going to have plenty of time while I’m stabbing you to say all those things you didn’t.”

A chuckle escapes him; of course, Jay would have this sense of humor. “Wow, I can’t believe I’m paying so much for people just to stab me and act as a therapy. Maybe I am a masochist.”

“So are a lot of people. Sometimes you just take the emotional pain out in the physical realm.”

“I always imagined people that worked in a tattoo shop to be more heavily tatted,” Calum hums, taking in scattered ink across her arms and one pokes out from the V in her t-shirt.

“I focused it more on my back and legs and not so much my arms. I’m getting there. So, why this one today?”

Calum goes to shrug, but stops himself as he hears the gun nearing his skin again. “Not really sure. It looked cool. I guess it also serves to remind me that fate isn’t linear. There’s going to be twists and turns, maybe some trouble. And that’s okay. Don’t be afraid of the journey. Also, it's really fucking cool art.”

Jay hums her laugh, “Why thank you. Wise brain you got there. Besides, it seems like you also have people you keep close to you.” She eyes the initials and the name under the bird. “Whoever they are to you, I hope you all stay close.”

“Those are my parents' initials,” he explains. “And my sister’s name. They’ve been with me through it all--I love them dearly.”

“So sweet. I wish my parents and I were closer. I tattooed my brother’s jersey number on me. It was my first tattoo.”

“What did he play?”

“Soccer, or for your kind, football.”

“Hey now, it’s played with the feet, it makes much more sense.”

Jay laughs, wiping off excess ink. She cocks her head to the side a little, then goes back in for the black ink. “I’m only teasing. Us Americans are so dumb sometimes. Like why is our football not called something else? Literally, the only thing that happens with the feet is the running. We carry the fucking ball.”

“I’ve wondered that as well!” he laughs. "Does your brother still play?"

“Yeah, the whole knucklehead still plays for his college.”

“What position?”

Jay laughs. “I'll have you know my job as the older sister is to show up and cheer him on. Something defensive? I don’t remember off the top my head.”

“I’ll give you credit for that. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

“He does until he sees with me in face paint on and then he’s acting like he doesn’t know me. Oh, oh wait, I think remember what he does. It’s defensive,” she pauses, lips pursed together, “something fielder.”

“Defensive midfielder?” he asks.

“Yeah, that. But like I said, I show up when I can and scream. That’s it. When he’s old enough, I’ll buy him a beer after his games too.”

“How old is he?”

“Nineteen, we’re three years apart.”

“The only sibling you have?”

“Nah, got a baby sister too. She’s fifteen. If you’re impressed by my eyeshadow thank her. Because she’s the one that taught me how to do it.”

Calum finds himself staring at the red and gold coloring her eyelids. “It looks really nice,” he breathes.

“Why thank you.” She pauses to bats her eyelashes. “I even managed to get those godforsaken falsies on right too. They look good, but the raise hell.”

“I think you’re the first woman I’ve met in LA that’s not obsessed with makeup,” he notes.

“Oh, you were doing so well. There are a lot of people of who aren’t huge in the makeup scene.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. In my experience, it’s not like that. They’re hiding the fact they aren’t wearing makeup--embarrassed by it or something.”

Jay nods, pushing up her glasses yet again. “Yeah, it’s not easy. We’re told to be perfect, but in reality, we’re just like everyone. We’re human, imperfect and flaw-full and beautiful.”

“Not in spite of, but because of.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. Silences settles in around them. Calum wonders why she said she was closer to her family, but the way she talks about her siblings doesn’t match. She’s cheering her brother on at his game; she’s sitting down to learn makeup with and from her sister.

“Can I ask a bit of a personal question?” he asks.

“What kind of personal? Do I get a lifeline?”

Cal exhales a laugh. “You can always say no.”

“Hit me with it.”

“Why say that you’re family isn’t close but you clearly take a lot of pride in your siblings?”

“An observant one on my table, I see. It’s my parents. They don’t like that I’m pansexual, say I’m going to hell. My siblings don’t fucking care. I’m still the crazy-ass sister that loves and supports them.”

With a hum of acknowledgment from Calum, it goes quiet again around them for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. He knows it doesn’t really fix anything for her; it doesn’t take away the potential years of her suffering. It’s the only thing he can offer her though. It feels right to say.

“Oh, no need for you to be sorry. It’s not like you threw me out of the house.”

“Ouch. You’re making it though right?”

“Yeah, now that I work here, things are on the up and up.”

“That’s good; I’m glad.”

“Thanks.”

“Favorite tattoo you’ve done?” he asks, wanting to hear her voice again.

“This one,” she laughs. “Though I had someone ask for a pin-up witch, which was also pretty fucking cool to do.”

Calum remembers seeing that on her Instagram. “That one was amazing! Her lips looked so good; I know that’s a strange thing to admit.”

“Don’t worry. I am quite proud of that myself.”

“Do you have a favorite tattoo on you?”

“The blue jay on my shoulder. My parents would take me on walks when I was still an infant. According to the legend, while they were sitting on a park bench a blue jay landed on me. I didn’t cry; it didn’t hurt me. It just landed for a second and then flew off. They called me Blue Jay ever since. I just shortened the nickname as I got older.” She gives one more wipe. “Finished. Check it out.”

Calum sits up, walking over to the mirror. He grins seeing the melting ball sitting against his skin. He grins over to Jay. “It looks amazing. Thank you.”

“No problem.” They head back over to her station. Jay cleans it and wraps the fresh ink. Calum carefully gets his sleeve back down with a little help from Jay. He pays their agreed price with his card, but slides two fifties over to her. “You do know that’s more than double a twenty percent tip right?”

Calum shrugs. “Is it? I’m bad at math,” he grins. “Treat your sister to a new palette or something. Treat yourself to something.”

“Thank you. Now next time, you come by, I hope we don’t talk while I’m stabbing you repeatedly.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin still on his face. Of course. He had forgotten to get the gift certificate. But possibly asking Jay to dinner wouldn't be such a bad idea. “Give me your number and I can promise the next time we talk, it won’t in your chair.”

She holds out her hand, waiting. He hands her his phone, after unlocking it. She puts her number in. She goes to hand the phone back but just before his fingers touch it, she draws it back. "I mean it--actually text me. I adore memes, dogs, TikToks, your favorite songs."

"I'll actually talk to you. I promise."

Jay hands over his phone with a smile. Calum steps outside the glass doors. Why should he wait? He could do it now. For fuck sake, the last hour had been the groundwork for a clear sign a date was absolutely an option. His fingers hovering over her name. He taps it, and then presses for a call. Holding the phone to his ear, he listens to it ring for a second.

“I can still see you, you know?” Jay laughs.

Calum turns around, catching her leaning against the front desk. “I told you the next time we talked you wouldn’t be inking me.”

“What can I help you with, Calum?”

“Dinner, tonight-- I may have ordered too many appetizers for just little old me."

Her laugh trickles in over the speaker. She drops her head, giving it a shake before looking back up to him in the afternoon sun. “I think I can help you with that. Give me the time and place."

Calum rattles off the name of a restaurant that he had been wanting to try. Nothing too upscale, but not something that would be too casual. "How does 8 sound?"

"I love it there. I'll see you at 8."

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Calum.” As he walks to his car, his phone buzzes yet again. This time a text from his artist, I’m being fucking replaced, I see. I can’t be too mad since it’s Jay. Calum laughs as he slides into his car. Maybe he is getting replaced; maybe he’s not. Calum’s not sure. He is sure that he needs to figure out if he can make reservations and what to wear for tonight.

[i-like-plan-m]

I was thinking more about tatted lwj and your response and the tattoos are lwj’s way to feel more freedom outside of the rules and values that his family keeps. He gets to express himself and break the rules without it actually affecting his relationships with his family since his family isn’t ever going to see him shirtless or naked. Like you said it’s like a secret little rebellion!

He starts off with a small simple bunny in his ankle and it slowly spirals out of control as he ends up getting addicted to getting tattoos and soon he has a whole sleeve and tattoos curling around his sides and spreading across his chest and down his back.

He also has one that starts at his waist and spreads down his hip and below his jeans and wwx just wants to know how far down does it exactly go?

ok, loving these prompts, they’re making words work for me tonight and also they’ve all been fantastic prompts so thank you!! 

[Posted to Ao3] 

“So,” Wei Ying said, and promptly flushed to the roots of his hair when it came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You have… tattoos.”

“I do,” Lan Zhan agreed, apparently unbothered by Wei Ying’s dumbfounded stare.

Really, this was too much. How could he be expected to function, knowing Lan Zhan had tattoos, like the delinquent Lan Qiren always accused Wei Ying of being.

Of course, there was nothing delinquent about these tattoos. No, these were lovely, graceful sweeps of color, a blooming vine curling its way down Lan Zhan’s spine, wrapping around his hip and disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants.

Wei Ying wanted to follow it with his mouth.

“When…?” he trailed off helplessly. They’d been friends for years, ever since high school, after an admittedly rough start wherein Wei Ying had done everything in his power to get Lan Zhan’s attention and Lan Zhan had been infuriated at the mere sight of him.

“I have had many sessions,” Lan Zhan said, and tugged a long sleeved shirt over his head. Wei Ying wanted to whine when the riot of color vanished from his sight, hidden beneath a blue sweater that he used to like, because it was soft and fitted and highlighted Lan Zhan’s extraordinary shoulder to waist ratio.

He did not like the stupid sweater anymore, Wei Ying thought grumpily. Now he knew it had been an accomplice, hiding Lan Zhan’s tattoos from him.

The audacity, he thought indignantly, fully aware that he was being irrational and not caring even a little. Fuck that sweater.

“Why’d you get them?” He asked when he finally remembered how talking worked. Mostly he was just grateful he hadn’t said, “Take it back off right this instant.” or, “Can I touch?”

Lan Zhan paused in the process of making tea— when had he gone into the kitchen? Wei Ying wondered in a daze— and glanced over at him.

“The first was a gentian flower, for my mother. I was eighteen. And… angry.”

Because he’d never been given the time and space to grieve, Wei Ying knew. They’d talked about it before, the restricting rules of Lan Zhan’s childhood. The way he’d been told how to feel, how to act, told to forget about his mother because she wasn’t coming back.

Wei Ying nodded to show he was listening, and took a step closer. Lan Zhan, busy running long fingers gently over his wrist, didn’t seem to notice. “The permanence of a tattoo appealed to me. Once I had it, no one could take it from me.”

No one could take her from me, Wei Ying heard.

“And then?” He asked softly, climbing onto one of the barstools to watch Lan Zhan move around the kitchen with a steady competence that Wei Ying watched with quiet interest disguised as attentiveness.

To his surprise, Lan Zhan’s ears flushed red. Wei Ying perked up, gleeful as always when Lan Zhan got embarrassed around him, the most shameless person on the planet, at least according to Jiang Cheng.

Because Lan Zhan was too good for him, he gave Wei Ying an honest (if reluctant) answer. “A rabbit on my ankle.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying gasped, delighted. “A bunny? You got a bunny tattoo?”

“I like rabbits,” Lan Zhan said mutinously.

“What next, what next?!”

“…Another rabbit, so the first wouldn’t be alone,” Lan Zhan admitted, ears positively on fire now.

He was so cute Wei Ying wanted to die. He settled for covering his face with his hands until he could control his expression again.

There was no way he could take more of this, so Wei Ying asked instead, “Does your family know?”

“My brother,” Lan Zhan said, and slid his left sleeve up to show the lovely blue flower decorating his wrist. “I showed him this after I had it done and he…”

Uh oh. “Was he mad?” Surely not; Lan Xichen’s only care in the world was for his little brother to be happy.

“No. He cried, a little, and then we spent the whole night talking about our mother. He remembers more than I do. He had many stories to tell me that were… different than what I’d been told growing up.”

“So he liked it? What about the rest?”

“Hm,” Lan Zhan hummed in agreement. “He got a matching one, on his hip. So he could hide it easily.”

Wei Ying leaned over the countertop, propping his chin on his hands and grinning at Lan Zhan. “What else do you have hidden under that sweater?” He asked, and then wondered what the hell was wrong with him. “I mean tattoos,” he added hastily.

Lan Zhan, though, just raised an eyebrow and leaned back against the kitchen island. “It would be easier to show you.”

Wei Ying’s brain promptly stalled out.

Lan Zhan sipped his tea and waited patiently.

“Show me?” He managed through a throat that was suddenly very dry. Lan Zhan made a low noise of acknowledgment. “Like… take your shirt off again?”

“It would be difficult otherwise,” Lan Zhan said, and the amused note in his voice made Wei Ying straighten, indignant. Lan Zhan was fucking with him. With him, Wei Ying.

Since when had his sense of humor included teasing Wei Ying? Well, he’d show Lan Zhan!

“Okay,” he said, so confident and assured it could be nothing but a lie. But Lan Zhan didn’t call him out on it, just raised a brow. Set aside his tea, and…

And took off his shirt. Slowly. Revealing an inch of skin at a time, soft pastel colors blurred into Lan Zhan’s stupid flawless skin, splashes of color that seemed so bright all of a sudden, the gravity of the room shifting to orbit around Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying’s breath caught. He hoped it wasn’t audible.

“You cannot see much from over there,” Lan Zhan observed. His arms were sculpted from years of handstands, the rest of his body lean and muscled from a religious running and swimming routine.

“No,” Wei Ying agreed faintly. He slid off his stool, encouraged when his knees didn’t give out, weak as they felt. He inched his way around the counter, eyes glued to the play of ink across muscle every time Lan Zhan shifted in place, every time he took a measured breath.

Wei Ying swallowed hard. Halted just within arm’s reach, and found himself unable to look Lan Zhan in the eye. The asshole had called his bluff, Wei Ying realized with some disbelief. He was having a hard time being annoyed about it, because… well, it got him within touching distance of his half-naked best friend.

His half-naked best friend who had miles of warm skin inked with soft colors and hopeful, blooming flowers. Little creatures— more bunnies, a small dragon with intricate blue scales, hints of claw and tooth and fang— were shrouded within a veritable garden lovingly carved into Lan Zhan’s body.

So many secrets hidden within. It felt like a metaphor for Lan Zhan, the little things Wei Ying had worked so hard to learn, to coax out of him, to wait patiently for Lan Zhan to come to him, all carefully wreathed in protective vines and a canopy of petals.

He reached out, unable to help himself. Lan Zhan stood very, very still as Wei Ying’s palm settled over his heart, measuring the beloved drum of his heartbeat. It was ceaseless. Reliable. As unwavering as everything else about Lan Zhan, someone so dependable and trustworthy that Wei Ying had lost some of his own sharp edges as a result.

He’d learned what it meant to have faith in someone, a conviction that was unshakeable and everlasting, and somewhere along the way he’d slipped right into love.

Lan Zhan’s hand came up to wrap gently around his wrist. Not to remove it, just to hold. “You’re quiet.”

“Your tattoos are giving me an existential crisis, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying admitted.

Lan Zhan frowned, looking uncertain for the first time this evening. “Is that bad?”

“No.” His voice was hoarse. He cleared it, fingers tracing the lines of the ink, following the path as each shape faded into the next so seamlessly they appeared to be one.

Lan Zhan’s abdomen flexed in response to Wei Ying’s soft, trailing touch as it drifted down. And down. And down. He sucked in a breath, watching Wei Ying with so much intensity it burned.

“How far down does it go?” Wei Ying asked, tugging lightly on the edge of Lan Zhan’s pants.

“Find out for yourself,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Ying looked up, shocked, and bit his lip uncertainly. It was the tipping point; Lan Zhan surged forward, his giant hands coming up to cup Wei Ying’s face, to hold him still as he kissed Wei Ying until they were both breathless and dizzy with it.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Ying asked, too dazed to feel embarrassed by the way he was clinging to Lan Zhan to remain upright.

“You wanted to find out how far they go?” Lan Zhan asked against his mouth. Wei Ying made a helpless sound in response. “Mark your words,” Lan Zhan said, low and heated, and hauled him towards the bedroom.

Wei Ying was beginning to suspect he had been outplayed at his own game, but just then Lan Zhan dragged his mouth over the sensitive tendons of Wei Ying’s neck and suddenly he had more interesting things to occupy him.

He’d deal with everything else and all that it entailed later.

Much later.

[hookedonapirate]

Thank you so much for the beautiful graphic @itsfabianadocarmo! See this other beautiful, heartbreaking graphic by @wefoundloveunderthelight​ here. Thank you so much! Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son. Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past. The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type. Oh, and apparently their taste in women. Or rather, one woman. Feisty. Blonde. Gorgeous. Green-eyed Goddess. Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse… Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident. Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart. Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces. Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby. Notes: This chapter...I don't really know what to say about this chapter, so I'll just leave it here and hope I don't get a bunch of hate for it lol. The ending was unplanned; Killian and Emma kind of took over, so I let them. But yeah, anyway, hope you enjoy! Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for looking it over! This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this: "I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side" If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story. Video by Ruben - Lay By Me P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says: "There is no happiness without tears No life without death And no true love without heartbreak" Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs). Also available on: AO3 FF.N Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7

Chapter 8

Emma’s a ball of emotion as she sits in the waiting room, fidgeting impatiently in her seat after filling out all the necessary paperwork.

Noticing her uneasiness, Killian extends his hand, and she smiles timidly, slipping her free palm into his. “Everything will be alright, love,” he says sweetly, rubbing her thumb with his.

He seems almost as nervous as she is. She’s nervous for obvious reasons and also because she’s not sure if she could take any more bad news if something went wrong with this pregnancy. In fact, she knows she can’t handle any more bad news.

So she’s hoping and praying she and her baby are healthy and that there are no complications.

This is her first OB appointment since she found out she was pregnant. She’s only told Killian, Mary Margaret and David so far. Her brother wasn’t too happy and was in fact disappointed at first, but only because he thought Killian had knocked her up since he was there with her to give them the news and was just as nervous as she was. It was pretty awkward, to say the least, but once Emma cleared things up, David was elated. He can’t wait to have a niece or nephew from his sister and best friend.

Emma slapped her brother upside the head for even thinking she’d be interested in being with anyone so soon after Liam’s death. But she supposes it wasn’t impossible, for other people at least. Everyone has their own way of dealing with grief and loss. For her, on the other hand, sex had been the last thing on her mind after Liam died. Hell, she couldn’t even convince herself to laugh the first few weeks or so.

She has been feeling horny lately, if she’s being honest, but she blames it on her pregnancy. That, topped with living in the same apartment as a gorgeous, muscular hunk who has Jesus’ abs, resembles Liam and has been nothing short of sweet, supportive and loving, is a dangerous combination. And when Emma made the huge mistake of telling her sister-in-law she walked in on Killian naked and then denied she had any feelings of attraction toward him whatsoever, the woman of course knew Emma was bluffing. And this is coming from the same woman who, over a year ago, warned her to not even look at said man because of his reputation.

But maybe Mary Margaret’s opinions of him have changed because she felt sorry for Killian after he lost his brother. Or maybe she has just seen how much Killian has changed over the past couple of months, how much he takes care of Emma and has helped her get through this time, despite how broken he is. In fact, Killian is even growing on David as well; Emma can tell. But she doesn’t know if their newfound fondness for Killian is a good thing or a bad one.

While shopping, Emma had to beg her sister-in-law to drop it when she wouldn’t stop teasing her about seeing Killian’s penis and asking how big it was. For one, Emma didn’t wish to have that discussion in a mall, and two...well, she didn’t want to talk about any man’s penis, period. Especially with her sister-in-law, who is married to her brother, for crying out loud.

Emma almost died of humiliation when they were in the checkout line at Macy’s and Mary Margaret suggested (rather loudly) that if Emma was that worried about jumping her brother-in-law’s bones then she should get a vibrator. Emma’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets, her cheeks flaming as other customers in line and even some of the register clerks gave her the stink eye.

“He’s not my brother-in-law,” she muttered to Mary Margaret, burying her face in her hands. “He’s my friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Mary Margaret commented, highly unconvinced. “That’s what I said about your brother before we started dating. In fact, we hated each other at first,” she smirked. “Just like you and Killian hated each other at first.”

Yeah, yeah, I know the story, Emma thought to herself bitterly, rolling her eyes.

Her sister-in-law and brother met at Granny’s Diner, back when Mary Margaret was a server there. Back before she became a teacher. David and Liam went there for dinner one night, and it was her first day, so she was extremely nervous. As she approached the table, a small bowl of cheesy green bean casserole slipped off the tray, flipped over and landed directly in David’s lap. His crotch being scalded, he wasn’t too happy and made some rude remarks.

He returned the very next day to apologize, giving her this sappy, long-winded speech in front of all the diner guests, saying how sorry he was and hoping she would forgive him and let him buy her dinner. But only if she promised not to spill the beans again. They had a good laugh and Mary Margaret accepted his offer and apology, but they went out to dinner as just friends. Ever since that day, though, Mary Margaret has called him her cheesy Prince Charming, and David calls her his spill the beans Queen. Emma had to give her brother props for that one; it’s the most accurate description of Mary Margaret she’s ever heard of.

Once Emma’s name is called, she and Killian stand up; he’s still holding her hand as he whispers in her ear, “We can do this.”

Emma’s heart flutters, her cheeks warming as she exchanges a small smile with Killian. She loves when he refers to the two of them as we, even though she’s the one carrying this baby around. He’s completely committed to this, doing whatever he can to help her out, and she’s so grateful for that. Since they’ve become so close, she can’t even imagine doing this without him. She lightly squeezes his hand as she gives the nurse the paperwork, and they follow her into the exam room.

Emma’s stomach is full of butterflies as the nurse takes her weight, height and vitals. She asks Emma several questions, like when was her last period. It’s not really the type of conversation to have in front of Liam’s brother, but maybe living with him for almost a year is the reason she feels comfortable answering awkward, personal questions in front of him. Besides, he knew her menstrual cycle not long after she met him, considering she kept tampons in the brothers’ bathroom even before she moved in with them.

She tried to be discreet as possible at first, but once she moved in with the Jones brothers, all bets were pretty much off. Because how else would one explain having to lie on the couch in pain with a heating pad every month? Her cramps were terrible and always made her feel incredibly miserable, so that was pretty difficult to hide from two grown men she shared an apartment with. Even if she hid in the room she and Liam shared, he would come in all concerned and loving and ask if she needed anything. And she’s sure he would always mention something to his brother, because Killian would suddenly be nicer to her during her time of the month. He even joined Liam on his tampon trips to the drugstore occasionally.

Nevertheless, Killian simply smiles encouragingly and doesn’t seem to be the least bit bothered by the awkward questions and answers.

“Dr. Carmen will be with you shortly,” the nurse says once she has everything she needs.

Fifteen minutes later, the doctor enters with a file in her hand.

“There’s the happy couple! Congratulations, Mommy and Daddy,” Dr. Carmen says with a big smile, glancing between them before taking her seat on the stool.

“Oh, um,” Killian starts to say, scratching behind his ear, his cheeks tinting with blush.

“He’s actually not the father,” Emma corrects, even though it kills her to think about what happened to the father. Her chin trembles, tears springing to her eyes.

Killian quickly reaches over and grabs her hand, squeezing it gently. His touch immediately soothes her.

“I’m so sorry for assuming,” Dr. Carmen immediately apologizes. “I know better than that.”

“It’s fine,” Emma says. “The father—my fiancé—died in a motorcycle accident a couple of months ago. This is Killian, his brother,” she pauses, her vision clouding with tears as she looks at him before adding, “and my best friend.”

~*~

Killian’s heart bursts at her declaration. Her words mean more to him than she’ll ever know. Hearing her say those things while she’s on the brink of tears makes him want to cry, too. Actually, everything about this situation makes him want to break down and cry. Emma’s having his dead brother’s baby. And no matter how many times he reminds himself of this, it still hurts like a bitch. Knowing this baby won’t get to grow up knowing their father. Having to eventually tell his niece or nephew what happened to Liam. The thought makes his stomach hurt.

But he can’t think about that now. He needs to be here for Emma. He needs to be strong for Emma. He wants to be strong for her.

The doctor’s eyes soften. “I’m so sorry for both your losses.”

They thank her, and she basically asks Emma everything the nurse asked her. Since the first day of her last period was over eight weeks ago, the doctor recommends getting an ultrasound so they can get the baby’s measurements and a better estimate of Emma’s due date.

Once she’s finished, Emma and Killian are sent to another floor for the ultrasound, where a tech brings them into a darkened room and explains the entire process.

As soon as the tech tells her to lift her shirt and undo her jeans, he glances away to give her some privacy, even though she says he doesn’t have to. But he feels like every time he looks at Emma adoringly, he’s betraying his brother. Every time he has a less than innocent thought about Emma, he feels like it’s a betrayal against Liam, even though he’s never acted on his feelings. Even though Liam’s gone.

When the ultrasound tech moves the wand over Emma’s belly and the sound of a heartbeat fills the room, he takes that as his cue to look again. They watch the movements on the screen as the tech describes what they’re seeing.

“Alright, so there’s Baby’s hand, you can see the fingers. And see that little flutter there?” she asks with a smile as she points at the movement. “That’s Baby’s heartbeat.”

When Killian manages to tear his eyes from the screen to catch the expression on Emma’s face, a smile crosses her lips, her eyes watering. He grins, just witnessing the look on her face.

“We’ll zoom in and do a heart tracing to get the beats per minute.”

When a bunch of squiggly lines appear at the bottom of the screen, the tech measures the bpm.

“The heart is beating at 149, and that’s normal. Baby’s pretty active in there.”

They watch for a few minutes as the tech points out different parts of the baby’s anatomy they can see on the screen. The baby’s face, the arms, the legs, the spine, the brain. Suddenly all of this becomes very real for him. It was real before, but now he’s seeing Emma’s living baby on the screen, and his eyes sting with tears, his heart melting into a pile of goo. This baby will be so loved and cherished when they’re born. Hell, they already are.

“There’s Baby stretching,” the tech singsongs.

Emma giggles as Killian watches the tiny, precious human in awe. He can’t believe he gets to experience this with her, but at the same time, he’s sad Liam can’t be here to experience this with her.

“Baby looks good. I’m not seeing any concerns.” She watches the baby for a few more minutes before concluding, “Baby looks happy.”

Emma looks at Killian, her expression full of relief and joy. His heart flutters at the sight of her. He’s so glad the baby is doing well.

“Little Duckling is just excited to have such a wonderful woman as their mother,” he says, winking at Emma.

She blushes, a big smile blossoming across her face.

“Alright, are you ready for some pictures?” the tech asks.

Emma’s face immediately lights up. “Yes, please.”

“Let’s see if we can get a good angle. Baby is moving and dancing around in there,” she laughs, making Emma and Killian laugh too. Once the tech gets a good angle, she freezes the screen and takes screenshots. “According to the measurements, you’re eleven weeks along, which makes your estimated due date August fifteenth.”

The tech finishes up, hands Emma a towel to clean up and gives her half a dozen photos.

Once Emma’s ready to go, they ride home in his truck as she holds the photos in her hands, still amazed as she stares at them. “I can’t believe this,” she finally says. “I’m having a baby. This is unreal.”

He looks at her, offering a soft smile. “Getting scared yet?”

“I’m terrified,” she laughs and places a hand on her baby bump. “But this baby is a piece of Liam. It’s like I got a second chance to have a family, you know?”

He can tell she immediately regrets her words when she looks at him, her face clouding over with regret.

“I mean, you’re my family too, and David and Mary Margaret...but this is the family Liam and I would’ve had together if he were still here.”

“I know, love. And he’d be so happy to have this baby with you.”

She smiles and nods. “It’s like he left a piece of himself behind, so I’ll never be alone.”

Killian takes her free hand in his. “You never will be. I promise you that.”

“As long as I have you, I won’t be.”

He almost gasps for air at her words as he tries to keep his eyes on the road. He knows she doesn’t mean it in the way it sounds, but the sentiment still tugs at his heart. “I’m not going anywhere, love,” he reassures her, stroking her thumb with his.

Silence falls over them—he doesn’t want to say anything that will upset her—and they stop to get some tacos and head home. He took the morning off of work so he could go with her to the doctor’s appointment, but he decides to take the rest of the day off and calls his boss to let him know. He has a feeling Emma has a lot weighing on her mind right now and he wants to be here for her.

“So, we should probably tell your dad now,” Emma suggests once they finish eating their tacos and discard their trash. “Otherwise, he might find out on social media or something after I give my sister-in-law the go-ahead to tell people.”

“Aye, you’re right,” Killian agrees. “We can Facetime him. He should be getting home from work right now.”

“Okay, yeah, we can do that.” Emma grabs one of the ultrasound photos, Killian grabs his computer and they both huddle close on the sofa as he calls his father.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Brennan greets once he appears on the computer screen. “How have you two been doing?”

“We’re doing okay,” Killian answers. “As good as we can be, I suppose. Right, Emma?” he asks, looking over at her.

She offers a sad smile. “Yes. Actually, I’m doing much better than the last time we spoke. How are you doing, Brennan?”

“I’m just taking it one day at a time,” he replies softly.

Emma peers down at the photo in one of her hands as she keeps it at her side so it’s not showing on the screen. “So I have some news that might cheer you up,” she says, looking up at the screen again.

Killian gives her an encouraging smile when she glances at him.

She sucks in a breath and rips off the band-aid. “I’m pregnant...with Liam’s baby,” she adds to clear up any confusion, not wanting him to make the same assumption David did. “You’re going to be a grandpa.”

Brennan’s eyes go wide, his mouth parting, and he has no words at first. “I am?” he finally chokes out, his eyes brimming with tears.

Emma nods and holds up the photo. “Meet Baby Swan-Jones.”

Brennan’s face lights up like a Christmas tree as he leans in closer to get a better look at the baby, a tear sliding down his cheek. “Oh my Gods. Congratulations, Emma!”

“Thank you,” she says with a blushing smile. “I’m so excited...and also scared to death.”

He chuckles and waves a hand. “That’s completely normal.”

She nods. “It’s a little weird since Liam isn’t here to raise the baby with me. Well, it's a lot weird,” she corrects herself.

“I can imagine, love. It’s a shame he can’t be here to experience this with you and meet his son or daughter.” He looks at Killian sternly and points a finger at him. “You’ll look after them, won’t you, son? This lovely lass is like your sister-in-law, and that baby is going to be your niece or nephew. You’ll make sure they have everything they need, right?”

Killian’s jaw twitches. He hates when people call her his sister-in-law, but it’s not far from the truth. If Liam were still alive, she would’ve been.

“Brennan, I can assure you, Killian has been a godsend.” Emma’s eyes well up with tears as she takes his hand in her free one. “I don’t even know how I would have survived the last couple of months without him.”

Killian’s lips twitch into a small smile as he looks at her. “And I have no idea what I’d do without her. I’ve already promised Emma I’ll do anything to make sure she and the little one are taken care of.” Killian wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders and leans in, kissing her temple. “You have nothing to worry about, Papa.”

When he reverts his eyes to his father, he swallows the hard lump in his throat. His father is narrowing his eyes at him, almost as if he’s on to him. Killian has never told his father about his feelings for Emma, obviously, but there were times when Killian wondered if his father could read his thoughts.

“Well, this is good news, Emma. I’m so happy for you, and I can’t wait to meet the little prince or princess.”

“Thank you, Brennan. I can’t wait, either.” She places her hand on her belly. “And don’t worry, your grandchild will be well taken care of, I promise.”

“I have no doubts, Emma.”

After they end the call, Killian still can’t shake the feeling that his father knows he’s in love with Emma. Is it written all over his face? If it were, wouldn’t Emma see it, too?

Later on, they make dinner together. Killian can’t help but notice how domesticated it feels to cook with Emma. All of this feels surreal. Having Emma as a roommate, eating meals at the kitchen table with her, taking her to OB appointments, going grocery shopping with her. It’s almost like they’re an actual couple, even though he knows they never can be. He knows Emma will never be his; she’s Liam’s and she’ll always be Liam’s. Maybe in another life, she’d be his, but not in this one.

After dinner, they watch Friends. He’s glad Emma’s able to laugh again at the episodes, and not just her normal laugh, but full belly laughs, where a smile overtakes her entire face. She seems much happier than she did when she first found out she was pregnant. She seems excited, and her excitement is contagious. It makes him excited too. There are still some sad moments, but overall, Emma’s done her best to remain positive.

When Emma’s ready to go to bed, she gets up and takes a shower. While she’s in the bathroom, his phone pings. He receives a message from his father asking him to call him when Emma’s not around. He doesn’t plan on calling him anytime soon, though. He’s not ready to have this conversation with his father. He’s not ready to tell him he’s in love with his brother’s fiancé. Nor does he think he’ll ever be ready. He hasn’t told a single soul, and he’s not about to start.

He also notices another missed call from Milah. He’s been getting them a lot lately from her, but he ignores them and deletes her voice messages and texts before he even reads or listens to them.

He doesn’t even want to be tempted to sleep with her again or give her the wrong impression. He’s not looking for a relationship, and he’s afraid that’s what Milah wants. She’s better off being with someone who wants to give her more than he can. Someone who’s not in love with someone else.

As soon as he hears the shower running, he also hears something he never thought he’d hear again—Emma singing.

And it’s not just any song. She’s singing the same lullaby his mum used to sing to him as a baby—Baby Mine by Alison Krauss. Liam must have told her about the song, since their mother sang it to both of them.

Killian’s heart swells as he listens to Emma’s voice. She sings the song just as beautifully and softly as his mother used to sing it. He gets up from the couch and goes over to the bathroom door, pressing his ear against it so he can hear the rest of it more clearly.

Never a tear, baby of mine

If they knew sweet little you

They’d end up loving you, too

All those same people who scold you

What they’d give just for the

Right to hold you

From your head down to your toes

You’re not much, goodness knows

But you’re so precious to me

Sweet as can be, baby of mine

All of those people who scold you

What they’d give just for the

Right to hold you

From your head down to your toes

You’re not much, goodness knows

But you’re so precious to me

Sweet as can be, baby of mine

Baby of mine

He’s in tears by the time Emma finishes the song and turns off the shower. He quickly wipes his eyes, but before he has time to move from his spot, the door is being pulled open and he’s falling onto the floor.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Emma apologizes profusely and extends her hand to help him up as she secures the towel around her body with the other hand.

He flashes a small smile as he looks up at this beautiful pregnant angel standing over him. “It’s okay, love. It’s my fault.” He takes her hand, pushing himself up with his other one so he doesn’t pull her on top of himself. Not that he’d mind in ordinary circumstances, but he doesn’t want to harm the baby. “I shouldn’t have been leaning against the door.” He tries to keep his eyes focused on her face, but he’s finding it extremely difficult not to let his gaze trail down her body while she’s in only a towel.

“Were you crying?” she asks, her brows wrinkled in concern.

His cheeks heat, and he scratches behind his ear, a smile making its way across his lips. “You were singing the lullaby my mum used to sing to me.”

Emma’s cheeks flush and she looks away shyly. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Liam told me once about that song and I just thought it was appropriate to sing our baby the same song your mother sang to him.”

“Why are you apologizing? You sang like an angel.”

Her eyes snap to his, the slits of her lids narrowing. “I thought you hated my singing.”

He shrugs and gives into a “you caught me,” smile. “That’s what I wanted you to believe. Do you think if I liked your singing, I would’ve told you before? And if I had, would you really have believed me?”

“No, I suppose not,” she admits, placing a hand on her hip.

Killian steps closer and caresses her cheek. “Well, see?” He wants to tell her how he really feels, how in love with her he is and how in love with her he was back then, too, but he knows it wouldn’t be appropriate. It’s just better to keep that to himself. “But now I’m serious. You have a lovely voice,” he murmurs sincerely.

“Thanks,” she says with a shy smile, her eyes flickering over his face.

They stand there for a moment, and he thinks Emma might kiss him, but he knows that’s all in his head. Nevertheless, he so desperately wants to pull her into his arms and kiss the bloody hell out of her, but he knows that would just end badly. Either she would push him away and hate him, or he would hate himself. Either outcome would be bad.

His heart skitters as she turns around and walks away. He can still smell her shampoo after she leaves the bathroom.

He follows Emma to her room to make sure she doesn’t need anything. Gods, he’s so whipped by her, and he doesn’t even care. “Do you need anything, love?”

“No, you’ve already done enough for me.” She goes over to her dresser and pulls out a t-shirt.

He cocks a brow and comes up behind her when he sees what shirt it is. “Excuse me, love, but isn’t that mine?”

She turns around, a guilty smile playing along her lips. “Okay, yes it is. But I don’t like the way some of my night tops fit now, and I tried to wear one of Liam’s shirts…” her voice cracks, so she pauses for a second before continuing, “but once I smelled him on the fabric, I broke down crying. I just couldn’t do it. And I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before stealing one of your shirts, but—”

“It’s fine,” he says with a sad smile. “Anytime you want to borrow something of mine, you can.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

He doesn’t think it’s a big deal, but he’s noticed she seems to greatly appreciate even the smallest of gestures he offers her. “Aye.”

“Oh, thank you, Killian. You’re the best!” She throws her arms around him, surprising the bloody hell out of him.

He chuckles and winds his arms around her, appreciating her sweet, fruity scent and how incredible her body feels against his as he rubs her back. He holds her tight, not wanting to let her go. He wants to hold her forever like this, even if it kills him. “It’s not a problem.”

When they break the hug, he turns around and notices the pillow he got her is on the bed. “Do you like your pillow, love?”

“Yes, it’s very comfortable and helps me sleep at night. Thank you.”

He grins and kisses her forehead. “Good, I’m glad.” He pulls away, afraid if he doesn’t, he’ll end up kissing her lips as well. “I’ll let you get some rest, love.” He exhales a shaky breath and heads for the door.

“Killian?”

He immediately stops in his tracks and turns around to look at her. “Yes, love?”

“Would you mind staying here with me tonight?”

He mulls over her a question for a moment, remembering what happened the last time he slept in the same bed with her. “I’m not opposed to the idea, love, but aren’t you afraid of the same thing happening as last time?”

She furrows her brows, trying to remember what happened. He almost feels offended when he thinks she doesn’t. Then her eyes widen. “Oh, you mean when you woke up with a—”

“A good morning boner?” he finishes for her. “Precisely.”

She waves off his concern. “Oh, please, I know it’s a normal thing. Do you know how many times I woke up with Liam’s good morning boner pressed against my—” She stops herself, her cheeks flushed when she reads his expression. She must sense he doesn’t wish for her to finish that sentence. Which he doesn’t. But not for the reason she thinks. “I’m just going to stop myself right there.”

“I appreciate that. Thanks,” he says, forcing a tight smile. “I’ll stay here with you if we have the body pillow between us,” he suggests. He’s already in the deep end, but he’s afraid if he gets too comfortable being so close to her, he might cross a line he’s not supposed to.

“Okay, deal,” she agrees, a small smile tipping her lips. “I just hate sleeping alone now. Liam and I never went one night apart since we started dating. Well, ever since we started sleeping together, that is.”

Killian puts up his hand to keep her from adding anything to that. “I’m quite aware of that night,” he groans in complaint. “I heard everything.”

Her expression clouds over with apology. “Sorry.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t be. Liam made you happy, and I know you made him extremely happy. You very much deserved each other. And I mean that in a good way.”

“Thank you, Killian.”

He chuckles. “Stop thanking me and get dressed.” He scrunches up his nose when he realizes what he said. “I never thought I’d be telling a woman to put clothes on.”

She laughs. “I never thought you’d be doing half the things you’ve done since we became friends.”

“Touché, love. I’ll let you get dressed.” He goes to his room, grabs a pair of pajama pants and changes into them before removing his shirt. He gets too hot at night, which is why he normally prefers to sleep naked. But he obviously can’t do that tonight. He goes to the bathroom, where Emma is wearing only his t-shirt as she brushes her teeth.

Bloody hell.

If she’s wearing shorts underneath, he can’t see them. The shirt is big enough to cover everything—she’s practically drowning in the damn thing—and it fits her like a nightgown, but damn, she looks good. She looks much better than he does in it; that’s for sure.

Emma moves over so he can brush his teeth, too.

Killian gives her a once over as he grabs his toothbrush from the holder and then gestures down her form with it. “Love, if we’re going to be sleeping together on a regular basis, we’re both going to have to wear more clothes than usual.”

She furrows her brows as he squeezes toothpaste onto the brush and starts scrubbing his teeth. In the mirror, he can see her eyes moving up and down his body, making his cheeks heat. “So, why can’t you?” she mumbles around her toothbrush.

“I am. I normally sleep naked.”

Her face reddens. “Oh.” She takes out her toothbrush and spits the toothpaste into the sink. “Well, I’m pregnant. You know the phrase, bun in the oven? It’s more accurate than you think. My belly feels like a fucking oven.”

“I believe you, love.” He chuckles and takes a few strands of his chest hair between his fingers. “This hair right here—it may look sexy but it’s like sleeping with a wool blanket.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs. “Guess we should stay as far away as possible in bed, so we don’t overheat each other.”

Her suggestion is rather ironic, considering his face is overheating, along with other parts of him.

She rinses off her toothbrush and replaces it in the holder. When she passes him, she places her hand on his abs and says, “See you in bed.” His stomach tightens under her touch. She turns around in the doorway. “I never thought I’d be saying that to you,” she quips with a laugh.

He’s glad he can’t reply to that, coherently at least, considering he has his toothbrush in his mouth. She’s gone before he can respond, anyway.

He’s still feeling the effects of her touch after she leaves the room. His heart is dancing, and his stomach is doing somersaults as he spits out his toothpaste and rinses off the toothbrush.

Fuck.

Sleeping with Emma again, as amazing as it was last time, is definitely not a good idea. Regardless, he’s entering her room and closing the door behind him before he slips into bed next to her. She hugs the body pillow around her as they both lie on their side, facing each other. He curses himself for getting her that pillow; he curses himself for suggesting it be in the middle.

They lie there, staring at each other in the darkness, the soft moonlight shining through the window, aiding their vision.

“Thank you for going with me today,” she says, breaking the thick silence between them. “It means a lot to me.”

“I was happy to, love,” he assures with a smile, his voice husky.

“I mean it. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through it without having a mental breakdown if you weren’t there to keep me sane.” Emma lifts her head from the pillow and leans in, kissing his cheek and whispering another thank you.

Bloody hell. This was definitely not a good idea.

“I told you to stop thanking me,” he teases with a smile, using all the self-control he has to not throw that damn pillow across the room so he can be closer to her.

They stare at each other for a few more beats.

Apparently, she’s thinking the same thing he is, because she’s pushing the pillow off the bed and scooting toward him. “To hell with the pillow. I can use it when I’m further along.” She wraps her arm around him, and he instinctively pulls her closer, allowing her to nestle her face in his chest hair.

He hopes she can’t hear his heart beating wildly, but who’s he kidding? He can feel it beating against her cheek as he strokes her hair.

“I don’t think your chest hair is too hot,” she murmurs against him, making his chest tingle.

He peers down at her. “You don't?”

She shakes her head and runs her fingers through his hair, stroking him.

His dick responds to her touch and grows hard in his pajama pants, even though her hand is nowhere near his manhood. And his willpower is being greatly tested. He's never had to restrain himself this much in his entire life.

He knows he should pull away and run back to his room, but her touch feels so damn good. Too good, in fact. All the more reason to run away.

“No. It’s comforting, actually. Liam had chest hair, and I loved using his chest as a pillow. So warm and soft.” She removes her hand and nuzzles her face closer against his chest, her breath fanning through his hair.

His heart fucking plummets. He knows she didn’t mean to, but her words just gutted him. He swallows hard, wondering if Emma thinks of him as Liam’s replacement.

Is she using him because he reminds her of Liam and the way he made her feel? Is she using him to lessen the pain clenched around her heart? Does she pretend Killian is his brother—the love of her life—when she's in his arms? Is that why she's allowing him to be this close to her?

The thoughts pain him, but on the other hand, he doesn’t give a fuck. Instead, he takes advantage of it. He wraps his arms around her, holding her impossibly close as he buries his face in her hair, soaking up her scent and appreciating how incredible she feels in his arms.

He wants her so goddamn much; it fucking hurts.

It feels like Emma wants him too, because she's moving her hand to his stomach, her fingers tracing his abs. But he knows this is only an illusion. Not her touch. No, her touch is real. But he knows her feelings aren't. She doesn't want him, she only wants her Liam back. She wants Killian to fill the empty void his brother left behind.

When she lifts her head from his chest, their eyes are locked in a heated gaze as her fingers glide up his arm and then down his chest to his stomach again. He responds by slipping his hand under her shirt—his shirt, rather—and running his hand up her body. Her hips, her swollen belly, her ribs, her plump breasts. She doesn't even attempt to stop him, only bites her bottom lip and arches her body slightly into his touch. He can hear her ragged breaths and feel her heart pound underneath his palm as he fondles and strokes her breasts.

There are no words exchanged or lips involved as they feel each other up and down, like two horny teenagers exploring someone else's body parts for the first time. There's only touching and caressing each other to their hearts' desire.

Well, not completely.

His heart desires so much more. He wants to kiss every inch of her, lick her pussy, then make love to her and be buried deep inside her all night long. His self-control almost snaps when his thumb flicks over her nipple, making the soft flesh harden in his hand. He has to ignore the voice in his head telling him how wrong this is. It feels right, though.

And so...damn...good.

He sucks in a deep breath, lets it out slowly and shakily as he allows his body to react to hers, lets her use him to her disposal, lets himself give in to the warmth and affection she offers, even if it's nowhere near enough. And when they're done, they just hold each other, catching their breaths, hearts slamming as they become entangled in each other.

As incredible as it was to feel Emma's soft, supple skin underneath his fingertips and make her feel good, he wants so much more. And not just physically. He wants her to look at him and see more than just the resemblance to his brother.

But if it makes Emma happy to imagine he’s Liam, then he’ll do it.

He’ll be her Liam.

Because he knows he can never be her Killian.

And he’d rather be her something than her nothing at all.

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[andypantsx3]

war paint | 9 | thief

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters

summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)

tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut

“You look far too happy this early in the morning,” Kaminari commented sourly over breakfast, spooning aimlessly around in his bowl. His hair was a mess as it was most mornings, standing up on end like he’d been struck by lightning, and there were deep shadows under his eyes. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.

Sero took a seat at his elbow, looking you over in bemusement. “Yeah, normally you’re asleep in your porridge, L/N. What gives?”

You hid a private smile. For the last week or so, you’d been kept thoroughly occupied by your captain and hadn’t seen much of your two friends, but the week had been something like the happiest of your life. You'd spent every day tangled up in Bakugou, training, talking, teasing. It seemed right that Sero and Kaminari would comment on your mood, since you also felt like satisfaction was spilling out of you, bursting through cracks in your skin like sunlight.

Maybe it was. Maybe they could really see it.

“Just in a good mood,” you hummed, shoveling porridge into your mouth so you didn’t have to follow up.

Kaminari eyed you suspiciously. “You do something to Nishimura? Put a cow pie in his bed?”

That wrenched a laugh out of you. “No, why would I?”

“Uh, maybe because he’s a shit to you,” Kaminari replied through a mouthful of his breakfast.

“Tit for tat,” Sero mused thoughtfully, chuckling.

You made a face. You’d quite honestly been too occupied with Bakugou over the last week to give much thought to Nishimura, though you certainly couldn’t admit as much to Kaminari and Sero. Nishimura hadn’t ceased his bad behavior, but you’d been spending so much time away from him, either on the training field for extra practice, or practicing something altogether different over the top of Bakugou’s desk. Or up against the wall. Or -- one memorable midnight -- back in the baths where the captain demonstrated very thoroughly what he’d wanted with you the night he’d caught you sneaking around.

You’d pretty much forgotten all about Nishimura.

You listened with half an ear as the conversation wandered away from your good mood, shifting to the subject of Lord Jiro’s daughter. Kaminari had tripped over her in the hall earlier this week, and he was now given to waxing poetic whenever she came up. You finished up breakfast as he practically spouted sonnets over the shapes of her earlobes, leaving him with a comment of encouragement as you set back off for the barracks to fetch your sword belt before drills.

As you turned the corner into your room, however, you collided with what felt like a boulder rolling out from within. You jerked backwards clutching your nose where you'd crunched it against the stone, winded by the impact. You looked up in surprise, finding Hasumi, Nishimura's idiot friend, instead. His tall frame filled the doorway to your quarters, broad shoulders thick with impossible muscle, and his eyes widened a little as he caught sight of you.

You looked up at him in question, but he merely grunted something offensive and sidestepped you, making sure to knock one brawny shoulder into yours as he did. He was large, even taller than the captain, and he nearly bowled you over with the force of it.

You stumbled back into the wall, biting down on a swear. That was going to leave a bruise.

Hasumi swept quickly down the hall, not waiting to hear anything you might have to say about his rough treatment. Your temper boiled, and thought about calling after him as you watched him irritably, but thought better of it. If he was here in your building, then that meant Nishimura was back in your room and you would need all the energy you possessed to deal with that. You took a steadying breath, resigning yourself to at least thirty seconds of similar unpleasantries. You wondered if Hasumi’s aggression was any indication of the kind of mood Nishimura was in.

To your surprise, however, the room was completely empty as you stepped inside. Had Hasumi been here to sneak another animal into your bed? You whipped your sheets from your mattress, but found no trace of anything inside, just the worn gray cotton of your pallet cover.

You felt your eyebrows draw together, but you remade your bed, then retrieved your sword and belt, buckling it around your waist. Maybe Nishimura had sent him in to fetch something. At times, Hasumi seemed more like Nishimura’s little peon and less like his friend. You often wondered if Nishimura was even capable of making friends without a shred of human decency in his body.

You thought on it as you walked to the training pitch for morning drills, something about the interaction with Hasumi niggling at the back of your mind. Had he seemed a little flustered when he’d seen you?

The thought was wiped clean from your mind when you arrived at the training field, however, as Bakugou appeared to have replaced your usual morning instructor. The sight of him this early, hair still a little rumpled from evening activities that you may or may not have had something to do with, filled your brain with a satisfied buzz that overrode all capacity for other thought.

Bakugou furthered your distraction with his usual merciless direction, running the battalion through a series of exercises worse than Ojiro had ever set you to. Your focus narrowed only to breathing and keeping upright as he pushed your battalion to your limits. He seemed to enjoy the sight of your suffering especially, red eyes following you around the training field, hungrily tracing the droplets of sweat down your neck where they disappeared into your collar.

By the lunch bell, you could swear you would be feeling the effects of the grain bags you’d hefted in your shoulders for weeks, would be running laps in your sleep for days afterwards. You collapsed in a pile with Sero and Kaminari as soon as drills ended.

“He’s a demon,” Kaminari whined, a tangled heap in the grass. “Why is he like this?”

Sero panted quietly, chest rising and falling in quick little huffs. “He needs to get laid or something.”

You choked. Instantly, Kaminari and Sero’s heads whipped around to stare at you.

“Uh, choked on my own spit,” you coughed out quickly, panicking. “Can’t breathe after all that.”

They seemed to buy it, relaxing back into the prickly grass. You flopped back as well, hating the way your sweat seemed to pool in the band of your chest bindings. Tonight was definitely a bath night; Bakugou would have to be left to his own devices for an evening. He deserved it after the hell he’d just put you through.

You barely roused yourself in time to make it to lunch before the mess hall closed, then swept off to patrol. You were paired with Nishimura again and the evening was expectedly unpleasant. Nishimura seemed more aggressive than usual, needling you with an abandon that was frankly alarming. Now more than ever, he was acting like he had nothing to lose, launching from disturbing comment immediately into the next with hardly any space for a breath. You wondered idly if it would be abusing your relationship with Bakugou to say anything about it -- you resolved to think on it more for the next few days before coming to any plan of action.

After patrol, you climbed into bed with the rest of your bunkmates and waited for them to drift off before stealing back out of the room to the servants’ baths where you washed off the day’s training. An anxious feeling settled over you as you bathed, and you hurried through the motions quicker than usual, not stopping to enjoy the relaxing heat of the pools as you usually did.

The anxious feeling followed you as you dried yourself and dressed, floating after you as you slipped through the dark castle grounds. As you arrived back at the barracks, it became clear why. The barracks were no longer dark, the windows glowing with the light of hundreds of candles.

A random bunk check.

You swore, tearing across the field to your building. You didn’t know the consequences of being found out of bed, but you didn’t like to think of what they would be. Ojiro usually scheduled and led the bunk checks, and while nicer than Bakugou, you’d witnessed enough of his fury to be afraid.

Only, it wasn’t just Ojiro in the doorway of your building.

You pulled up short when you noticed that all of the soldiers that housed with you were lined up in strict rows outside, one notable gap where you should have stood. Heads whipped up as you were spotted. From the far side of the field, Sero gave you an anxious look. Ojiro stood on the steps to your building, and behind him, silhouetted in the light of the doorway, was Bakugou.

Even in the dim light, you could see the line of his broad shoulders was tense, and his fists were clenched where they hung at his sides. Something white was clutched in his left hand. His expression was hard and a stone sank in your stomach. He looked angrier than you’d ever seen him and you couldn’t understand. Surely he’d have guessed you’d have gone to bathe?

“Stay where you are,” Ojiro ordered you over the sound of sliding metal. You watched in horror as he drew his sword, jerking it up to point at you. The air seemed to crackle with roiling energy and a sick feeling slid over you.

You froze, heart beating wildly, staring at Ojiro's sword. Was this protocol? Was it standard to discharge someone at sword point, or was this more? Could you have been figured out just by your absence?

“Ojiro?” you asked the officer in confusion. He frowned.

“Come quietly, thief,” he said, “Lay down your sword and no blood need be spilled.”

Apprehension shot through you like a bolt of lightning. Thief? Because you were out of bed after hours? That seemed like a leap.

“Ojiro, I’m not the thief,” you held your hands up at chest height, opening your palms in the universal gesture for peace. “I apologize for being out of bed and I accept my punishment, but I haven't stolen anything--”

“Explain this, then,” Bakugou’s rough voice bit into the dark night. His expression was stormy as he thrust out the item he’d been clutching in his hand. From this distance, you could make out what appeared to be a tidy letter scrolled on fine parchment in a dark ink. You felt your brow wrinkle in confusion as your eyes traced over the parchment. You couldn’t read it from where you stood but -- your eyes caught on a large varicolored marking at the bottom of the page and your heart leapt into your mouth. Though murky in the darkness and several paces away, it was quite likely the seal of the Todoroki prince.

“I don’t understand,” you said helplessly. Your mind swam with uncertainties. Why did he think you had anything to do with a missive from Prince Shouto?

“This was found underneath your mattress,” Ojiro said. His voice was hard. “It’s the missing treaty from the prince’s study.”

Found underneath your mattress? A feeling of horror settled over you as you flashed back to earlier that morning, where you’d almost collided with Hasumi coming from your rooms.

Hasumi.

All of sudden, things seemed to snap into place. The red flash under the thief’s cloak when you’d fought him in the master of coin’s office - it had been a soldier’s uniform. The pause the shadowy figure had given when he’d caught sight of Nishimura, the way he’d fled rather than fought the two of you. It had been Hasumi.

The thief was Hasumi and he was framing you.

“Ojiro, Captain, I didn’t--! I wouldn’t--!” you started, but an angry noise from Bakugou stopped you.

He leapt from the steps to your building, stalking across the field. He moved like a panther, padding aggressively toward cornered prey. His hand went to his sword, and you barely managed to draw yours in time to block him. The force of his strike nearly tore the sword from your hand and you only just managed to hold on to it, stumbling back from him.

“The debt,” he spat, “Your family’s debt, I should have fucking known.”

He raised his blade again, striking at you like a viper. You blocked him again, darting back out of his reach.

“Captain, I didn’t do it--” you said, but he cut you off with another overhand strike that seemed to carry every ounce of power he had in him. His blade slid along yours with a horrible grinding sound, catching on the grip and almost ripping it from your grasp.

“I thought I understood all the sneaking off,” he shouted, “Thought I had you all figured out.”

You parried another strike from him. “I didn’t do it! I wouldn’t do that to you!”

“Yes you fucking would,” Bakugou shouted, thrusting again. His anger seemed to make him quicker and deadlier that you’d ever seen him before. “You thought you were tricking me this whole time, disguised as a fucking man. You had no idea I’d figured you out until I told you. You were happy to keep on fooling me, fooling everyone in this battalion. What’s one more deception when you've already been lying for months?”

You growled in anger, your temper rising. Your vision tinged red at the edges and your sword felt almost hot in your hands. “I’m not the thief, Katsuki! You're being fucking stupid!”

You aimed a blow at his shoulder but he caught it, moving with almost superhuman speed to throw you off. He whirled around and before you could blink, brought his blade down on yours with incredible strength. As your arm went wide with the force of the strike, his blade whipped up to your chin, as it had all those months ago when he’d fought you and Nishimura.

“Drop your sword,” he said, pressing the flat of his blade into the soft skin of your chin, tipping your face up to his. Your breathing shallowed and you stilled.

It was quiet a long moment, the only sound the huffs of your breath. Over Bakugou’s shoulder, you could see the lines of the other soldiers, Ojiro’s long shadow in the glow of the candles. Sero looked beside himself, twitching like he itched to move, to run. Whether to your aide or away you didn’t know.

“Drop it,” Bakugou repeated. You hesitated and his blade pressed harder into your chin. You let the grip of your blade fall through your loose fingers, heard it clank softly in the grass.

As soon as you had, Bakugou moved, grabbing your arm and twisting to wrench you in front of his chest. His sword pressed diagonally across your shoulder.

“You’re under arrest for treason against the crown,” he growled into your ear. His tone dripped with disdain and his grip tightened painfully. Then, turning to Ojiro he barked out, “Get them back in bed. Show’s over.”

You had only moments to cast one last panicked look at Sero before you were moving, a rough hand pressing you forward. Bakugou marched you forcefully toward his office, sword held steady at your neck. His fingers flexed where he gripped you, nails digging into the flesh of your arm, and the heat of his hands was overwhelming, like he was seconds away from sparking off an explosion and blowing you to pieces.

When you arrived at his office, Bakugou all but threw you away from him, gesturing with his sword to a seat at his desk.

“Captain,” you said, turning to him as soon as he let you go. “I swear it wasn’t me! It’s Hasumi, you have to listen to me. It’s Hasumi!”

Bakugou’s face darkened. “If you’ve known it was Hasumi all along why tell me now?”

“I didn’t!” you cried, taking a careful step towards him. “I just figured it out. He’s trying to set me up.”

Bakugou scoffed. “How convenient," he intoned cruelly, "Just like it was convenient that you, always you saw the thief several times but were never able to catch him. What did you give the others who went along with your story? Are you giving them a cut? How many accomplices do I have to weed out?”

“Katsuki,” you pleaded. “Please listen to me.”

“Don’t,” he grit out. “I heard you that night, outside the barracks. You were begging someone not to let me find out. What if he finds those in my sheets you said. I could have just followed you inside and solved it all then. How stupid I was to have ignored that. To have ignored every warning sign in hopes that you were something more.”

Hot tears pooled in your eyes. “Captain, please. I can explain everything. You have to listen to me.”

Bakugou turned his back to you. The line of his shoulders was hard, and his fist balled at his side. “No. I have no desire to listen to you.”

You stepped closer, your blood pounding in your ears. “Captain.”

He ignored you, stalking over to the door on the opposite wall, the one you thought must lead to his personal chambers. He wrenched it open, almost ripping it clean off its hinges.

“You have until morning,” he said, knuckles white where they gripped the door knob. “I will give you this one opportunity. Go back to your family - you’ve settled their debt. I will tell everyone you fought me and ran.”

You let out a choked noise like a sob, but he shrugged you off as he stepped through the doorway. “Go now. If you’re still here in the morning, you’ll be tried and hanged.”

The door slammed shut behind him with a finality.

You stared after him, the hot tears spilling over onto your cheeks. What felt like years passed as you watched the rough grain of the wood, willing Bakugou to come back out, to take you into his arms and tell you he believed you, that you would figure this out together.

The door did not open again.

[illfoandillfie]

Maybe a ben POV one? where bens off on a movie shoot and misses you and wants to fly you out to him but he’s worried it’s too much of a “romantic gesture” like in movies so he doesn’t want to weird you out but then on the phone you say how much you miss him too so he gathers the nerve to ask you and you’re like duh ofc I’ll come you dork (im envisioning this still kinda early in the qpr maybe right after platonically or smth)

Thank you so much babe!!

This is the second of the blurbs for my Platonically themed event! This one follows directly on from the one I posted yesterday so maybe read it first.

Words: 1,759

Warnings: just two idiots being dummies. Minor references to sex and probably some swearing but that's about it.

Reflecting on the situation, Ben had come to the conclusion that it was the perfect time to be in Greece. The run of beautiful weather they’d had over the course of the last month must have set some sort of record, he thought. Every day was blue skies, white fluffy clouds, and the sort of heat that was comfortable and not overly sticky. It made working a dream, especially when half the film seemed to take place on the beach. The sand was warm under his feet and the water clear and cool. They didn’t have much down time since the studio was pushing for it to be finished ASAP so they could release it at the optimal time, but the few days off they did get, Ben spent either fishing with some of the crew or else exploring the picturesque town they were in. There was just one downside. You weren’t with him.

Whenever the thought crossed his mind, whenever he really started to miss you, he’d remind himself that he loved his job, loved that it took him to exciting and beautiful places. And then he’d send you a quick message to check how everything was back home. He called too, mostly in the evenings after he got back to his hotel room. But the deeper into the project he got the more night shoots there were and the later he got back to his room. What brief conversations you had were good but not quite the same as if you’d been there with him. Of course, he’d try to remind himself that it wasn’t like he’d never been away from you before. But those times had all been before you got together, and the changed nature of the relationship made him feel your absence more. He never said that to you though. Mostly, when you could talk, Ben would ask how you were and talk about the exciting things he saw. He’d tell you about the beaches or the trinket shops and say how much you’d like them but he’d never tell you exactly how badly he wished you were with him. He didn’t want you to take it the wrong way and he didn’t trust himself to explain it properly. Whenever he tried to verbalise it (quietly, to his reflection or the dark hotel room he was staying in) he worried it came out too...well, romantic.

The truth was, he’d always been attached to you, since very early on in your relationship. You just got him. His sense of humour and his personality and the way he thought. It took him no time at all to start referring to you as one of his best friends and it was a title you’d held for years. But then he’d realised the way he liked you wasn’t strictly platonic, and it made him feel weird around you. More uncertain than he was used to. He found it hard to describe the relief he’d felt when you agreed to think about his QPR idea or how, when you’d accepted, it had alleviated the uncertainty and doubts that had been plaguing him. To you it would probably sound sappy and sentimental and tat all what you wanted to hear from him. Of course the QPR was really just an extension of your friendship. More or less the same, just a few new ways to show affection like kissing and getting you off (both things Ben greatly enjoyed), and a few new words that made it specific to the two of you. And maybe a new future too, depending on how things went. But again, while he might think those sorts of thoughts, he wouldn’t know how to begin saying any of them to you. Because he was starting to really want that future with you, and saying so might make it impossible to get there.

So Ben allowed himself to miss you quietly. Occasionally an idea of inviting you to join him would pop into his head. But he always let the thought go as quickly as it came. The weeks ticked by like that. Texting when you could between scenes and less and less frequent calls at night, which left Ben’s head swimming with lots of unsaid things. Progress was made on the movie too, most of the beach scenes wrapped and everyone moving to other parts of the script. Until everything came to a screeching halt. Ben wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was – something to do with scheduling conflicts or maybe special equipment that hadn’t arrived on time. All he was told was that things would be back up and running soon but it might take an extra few weeks to complete the project. He didn’t mind so much, it gave him a bit of extra free time after all, but it also meant he wouldn’t get to see you again for a while.

The possibility of flying you out to Greece to join him had been rattling around his brain since his third week on set. You could spend a couple of weeks, maybe a month, together. He could take you to that restaurant he’d sent you photos of and show you the handmade stationery shop he’d stumbled across that he knew you’d have fun exploring. And then there was the rest of the town, thin streets to get lost in together and beautiful views to look out over. Maybe you’d like to walk along the beach with him and collect seashells or rent a little dingy to take out on the waves. Once or twice he’d come close to actually asking you to join him but he always talked himself out of it, sure it would be crossing a line for you. Missing you was one thing but offering to buy you a plane ticket and whisk you off on a getaway to a gorgeous Greek island was surely too romantic. But the news of the delay made him consider it again.

That night he called you, smiling as soon as he heard your voice. At first the call was like any other. He listened to you talk about what had been going on since he last had a chance to call, getting caught up on your mutual friends and your work and whatever else came to mind. “But what about you?” you finally said, “You must be pretty busy since I haven’t had a call from you in a little while.” “Well I was busy except not so much right now,” “Oh?” “There’s some sort of delay, I don’t the details. But it looks like I’ll be here for another few weeks at least.” “Oh.” Ben was a little surprised by how disappointed you sounded. “I really miss you,” “I miss you too,” his voice got softer as he said it, “a lot.” “I really wish I could see you,” “Well,” he said sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t reading things wrong, “how would you feel about coming out here then? I can get you a plane ticket if you want.” “No shit! You can do that? You won’t like, get in trouble or anything?” Ben laughed, not quite understanding, “What are you talking about?” “I don’t know man, I’m not an actor. I just figured it’d be like a partner free zone. Like they wouldn’t want you getting distracted or whatever.” “You fucking dork,” his laughter threatened to obscure the words but he managed to make himself heard, “That’s not how it is at all. You being here wouldn’t be a problem, as long as I’m on set when they need me. Plus it looks like we’re about to have a whole lot of downtime anyway. So does that mean you wanna come?” “Ummm let me think abo- of course Ben!” “Well if I’d known you’d react like this I would have asked sooner,” The laughter had faded, leaving a grin on his face, though the embarrassment at his hesitancy was creeping up too. “Wish you had’ve. Why didn’t you?” “I just didn’t want you to take it the wrong way,” “And what way would that be?” “A romantic way? I don’t know! It’s just the sort of thing that’d happen in a romantic movie or whatever and I didn’t want to come across like that. It’s Greece man, it’s kind of a romantic place. Maybe not like Paris but it’s up there. Don’t laugh,” he groaned, “I’m just saying, white sands and clear seas and lots of pretty flowers in bloom, it’s definitely got romantic vibes.” “It didn’t even cross my mind that it might be that sort of thing. No offence to Greece, I’m sure it’s lovely.” Ben let himself chuckle at his idiocy, “I guess cause I’ve like, y’know, got feelings for you or whatever I saw the romantic side and assumed you would too. Feel silly for not just asking you but I’m glad we have that sorted now.” “I think it’s sweet, Ben. I love that you were conscious of how it might be perceived and I understand you didn’t want to hurt me. But yeah, dude, please get me that ticket, I miss you a stupid amount.” “Alright, I’m on it. When do you want to leave?”

Two days later and Ben was content, sitting and staring out at the waves on a quiet beach as you rubbed sunscreen into his back. He’d greeted you at the airport, feeling ridiculously excited to see you, squeezing you in a tight hug (which you later suggested had cracked one of your ribs). “Okay, all done, now let me do your front,” you shuffled around Ben on your knees, throwing a leg over his lap as he leaned back on his palms. “You’re such a perv,” Ben chuckled, subtly adjusting his posture to push his chest further towards you, “I bet you only suggested sunscreen so you could feel my boobs.” “Oh you caught me,” you squirted some more of the cream directly onto his chest, beginning to rub it in, “Definitely nothing to do with sun safety.” “No I get it, you don’t need to lie to me. You missed my pecks. It’s totally natural. But let me know when you’re done so I can show you the same courtesy.” "Think we might save that till we get back to the hotel, Benny,”  Ben laughed at your exasperated expression, raising one arm to pull you toward him for a kiss, barely noticing the cool of the cream still on your palm as you cupped his cheek and kissed him back.

[wornoutmouse]

I'm doing a Haikyuu male reader next of my own devising since hoes don't want to request 🙄.Fyi i write smut, angst, and fluff just tell me yeah charcter, category and plot of you want.

Sukuna x Gojo x femReader

Don't ask the time period i don't even know man😓😭 I'd like to say it's set in Africa during like the era when Japan still had emperor's.

Once again sorry I'm working so slow sometimes plots don't work and i have to restart.

But reciving the news of my teacher/second father's death this morning has urged me to bury myself in work.

Yokai Gojo and Sukuna

When they speak japanese it will be bold

Warnings: manipulation, behind the scenes murder, hidden angst

You were a fool for venturing out in the wilderness by yourself. Have you learned nothing from your grandmother?!

The sound of crows and cicadas vibrated around you as you walked through the forest. You were only out here for some berries, so how on earth did you get lost?

Your feet were bare and sore, and the sky was only getting darker as the sun lowered. Finally deciding that continuing to walk wouldn't help, you opt to climb a tree.

As you climbed further, you prayed that you wouldn't fall as numerous species of insects crawled throughout the tree and unfortunately on your hands and back.

Reaching a height great enough that you could see over the trees, you spot water in the distance. It was the river just east from your village and that was a promising sign that you weren't a complete idiot.

Climbing down the tree with less grace than you came, you head in the direction of the river, and soon the forest floor is shrouded in shadows as the sun finally sets. You hug yourself and press your arms close to your shaking body.

As you walked, you noticed warm light peeking through shrubbery ahead. You slowed your steps and walked with your feet at an angle. By some miracle, you avoided the sticks below you. "Wait till I tell father about this he'll have to let me hunt with him"

You grimace, "Assuming he'll let me leave home ever again after this" Thinking of your father put a sour taste in your mouth. The man loved you, truly, but the only way he deemed you safe is if you are at home all the time or if you are with your future husband at all times. One of which you were not ready for, and the other you'd rather not.

You got as close to the light as you could without being noticed, and crouched. Two men stood next to each other facing a fire in the opposite direction of you. Good, you could stay down wind. A rough voice spoke, but you were not able to understand the strange language he spoke.

They were tall and pale and the clothes they wore, was not of your region. The closest you could compare it to was the robes worn by the elders once they reached a certain age.

Their hair color was strange as well. The tallest one had hair the color of winter snow meanwhile the other's hair was pink like your mother's roses. They spoke more but you still couldn't understand what they were saying.

The one with white hair seemed familiar to you yet you couldn't quite place it. Either way, you didn't feel safe approaching them on your own so you decided to walk around.

You shift from one foot to the other and fall back on your bottom as something flies over your head. Looking behind, you saw a knife in a tree behind you.

"Screw this!" You whispered to yourself, taking off. You run blindly through the forest, jumping over fallen trees and on many occasions running on all fours when you fell down.

Fear should have been on your mind but all you could think of was how your mother would kill you when she saw the tears that were most likely forming on your clothes.

After you get a good distance, you stop and take in your surroundings. To your left, you gaze with wide eyes, at the reflection of the moon on the lake. Hopefulness filled your heart as you saw twinkling fire coming from your village in the distance.

You were finally home, is all you thought as you took a step forward. You freeze as a shiver goes down your spine and moments later, something wraps itself around your ankles, dragging you back into the dark forest.

You cover your face as you're dragged across the floor. It was a long while till you stopped and when you did, you found yourself back to the two men as they towered over you.

They looked down at you, well one did, the others eyes were covered and that scared you more than the man grinning sinisterly above you.

"Would you look at that, you got pretty far,, my vine couldn't even reach you till you stopped." The vine releases you and you quickly crawl back. "You should have kept running I love a good chase." The man with white hair grinned down at you, hands in the sleeves of his robe.

The pink haired man crouched in front of you, and you flinch as your see fangs flash in the fun light. "Demon." You whimper as you look at the smaller eyes surrounding his normal ones.

Black markings surrounded his face and down his chest that was strangely bare despite the cool air. "You like what you see?" While you couldn't understand him verbally, it was obvious that he was gloating.

You turn your face haughtily, "She doesn't speak Japanese." Gojo finally spoke up, looking at you with subtle interest. He recognized you from his visit to your village. Well it wasn't necessarily a 'visit' more like he watched from afar.

You had seen him before though, whether you knew it or not.

Gojo cleared his throat, "Can you tell us what you were doing in the bushes?" Your eyes widened at his ability to speak your language. While it was comforting, it was even more suspicious.

"I was going home, and your light caught my attention." You said calmly. It's best that they don't know you were lost. Your eyes darted to the pink haired man who stayed crouched in front of you.

He raises his hand towards you, and you swallow as his sharp nails come into view. "You're a pretty little thing aren't you?" You resist the urge to slap his hands away as he uses the back of his finger to caress your cheek.

These men are dangerous, one clearly more reckless than the other. All it took was one wrong move and you'd be on the receiving end of that danger. "I would like to be on my way, sorry for bothering you."

You stand up and take a few steps back. A warm chest stops your retreat and you look up to see the white haired man standing behind you. "What's the rush, can't we have a little fun? Look, if you entertain us a bit, we'll walk you home." The pink haired man said in a singsong voice.

You shook your head and walked around the white haired man. "No thank you, it's not that far." The white haired man shrugged and watched you walk away. "We really gonna let a good piece of ass like that go?" Sukuna grumbled as he watched the darkness swallow your form.

Gojo placed his hands behind his head, "She'll be back don't worry."

You walked in the direction you had before, but it seemed as if you were no closer to leaving the forest like before. You climbed a tree and saw the river once again and walked towards it. But it seemed as if you were truly making no moves towards it whatsoever.

After a while of sitting in the nerve racking darkness, you walk back in the direction of the men, hoping they haven't left yet. It was against your better judgement, but they were the only option you had left.

To your luck, they hadn't left and were tending to their own flames. When you came back into view, they looked up at you. And you tried to ignore the rose haired man's knowing smirk.

The white hair man, that you have come to trust more than the other, waved at you slightly as you got closer to the fire. "I thought you were going home?" You shrugged your shoulders embarrassed.

"I got lost." Both men humed with mock concern. The pink haired man walked towards you loosely. "That's not good, I'm sure your family is worried sick." You nodded absent-mindedly. An arm is slung around your shoulder and you lean into it, basking in the warmth.

"Well we can't have that now can we Gojo?" The pink haired man looked at the man next to you, Gojo. "No I don't think I'd be able to sleep easily if I left you alone, how about you Sukuna."

If one were to have looked up. One would have noticed a strangeness to the sky above. Almost as if being covered by a bubble the sky closed and got considerably darker.

A barrier. After all, wouldn't want anyone to hear you scream.

"So do you promise to entertain?" Sukuna held out his hand and you looked at it. The black lines wrapping around his arms seemed to move but you summed it up to being a truck of the light. "What kind of entertainment?"

Gojo squeezed your shoulders and you shivered as his warm breath brushed against your ear. "Nothing you won't enjoy as well, we're all adults here aren't we?" You could feel your face warm at the implications. "I-I don't think I can do that."

You go to stand and the barrier above stops. "Aw what a shame." Sukuna turns back around as if heading to sit down but stopping. "But how will you get home!?" You furrow your berries, weren't they still going to take you?

Gojo noticed your face, "Ah, my dear this is a world of give and take. So I'm afraid we can't do things without a price. But if you feel better off on your own figuring your way through the dark woods, then we respect your decision."

You didn't want to do that and they both knew it.

"What do you want in return?" Gojo and Sukuna shared a look with each other. Your eyes widened as Gojo's hand trailed down your back, drawing circles when it got just above your butt. "Just a little pleasure…mixed with a little pain." Sukuna's teeth shined in the fire's light.

"Pain?! Out here?!? No, anyone could see!" You stood up, Gojo following suit. He had yet to say anything but knew Sukuna could handle it.

Like a snake, the tatted man came close to you and held your chin as one arm wrapped around your waist. "Oh calm down sweet cheeks, a little pain never hurt anybody." He leaned forward closer to your neck and you suck in a breath as you feel him nibble on your earlobe. "I'll make sure of it."

Gojo pressed against your back, "Don't worry about being seen." He clicked his fingers and suddenly you found yourself shrouded in darkness. In the middle of said darkness, was a large bed with a bright sourceless light glaring down at it.

Hands are on you in an instant, and you are pulled into the bed with Sukuna behind you and Gojo in front.

Because you were only wearing short bottoms, your legs were easily accessible. Hot wet kisses are layed on your caves as Gojo travels up your body.

Sukuna was less attentive. Taking your face in a harsh grip and kissing you roughly. You squeaked as his thumb nail pierced your cheek. A red red stream of blood falls down your cheek and Sukuna laps it up like a starved animal.

"Be gentle with her." Gojo tutted at his rude counterpart who only scoffed. "Why should I when breaking them is the best part?!" Your neck was gripped tightly and forced you to watch Gojo nip at your clothed thighs. "You like that don't you?" You shook your head embarrassed as Gojo's hands went behind you, cupping your ass.

He skillfully massages them before tugging your pants down. "You're moving too damn slow Satoru."

Sukuna's rough voice made you turn as it vibrates against the shell of your ear. "Patience, wouldn't want to hurt them." "That's the point as far as I'm concerned."

Sukuna puts his hands under your shirt and goes to cup your small chest. "I usually prefer mine with a little more here but I guess you'll have to do." Your body twitches as Sukuna mercilessly pinches and pulls at your nipples till they became puffy.

You close your eyes as you feel Gojo's warm mouth cover your pussy. His tongue played with your lips before pushing farther. You were beyond wet at this point and his tongue was simply sinful.

Sukuna was starting to feel ignored, so it was no surprise when he made it known. He pushes at Gojo's head with his foot before turning you around to face him on your knees. Fingers swipe over your lips before trailing up to your head.

You wince as his fingers curl into your fro, pulling your face to his crotch. "Why don't you put that pretty mouth of yours to use?" You fumble clumsily with the soft cloth of his robes before finally finding the prize. You lost all nerve when you saw how thick it was.

Forget going inside of you, you doubt it could even fit in your mouth. Sukuna pressed your face closer, urging you to start. You stick your tongue out hesitantly and collect the salty fluids dripping out of the tip. Just from that small simulation, Sukuna groans lowly.

Gojo had long since resumed his meal, and the sounds leaving his mouth was obscene. You couldn't see it but Sukuna watched with curious eyes as Gojo's face developed into a bit of a red color as he pressed his mouth against you.

Faint whimpers could be heard from him and the vibrations shook your core the louder he got. "Hey Satoru what's with that face, you're moaning like a bitch." Gojo doesn't respond as he grips your thighs harder. Sukuna pressed your face closer to his dick and you have no choice but to take him in your mouth.

You bobbed your head as his hand guided you relentlessly. With his other hand, Sukuna leaned forward and tugged at Gojo's blindfold.

Gojo's face was just as lewd as the noises he made. His sky blue eyes were shining with unshed tears and Sukuna had never seen a man look as content. You stop sucking when something wet hits your lower leg.

Looking in between your thighs, Sukuna laughs as he sees Gojo helplessly humping the air as warm ropes of cum spurted from his exposed cock. Sakuna gripped Gojo's now limp hair and the snow blond man glared at him through his dazed eyes. "You really are a bitch aren't you?"

Gojo reached forward and gripped Sukuna's face just as harshly, "Yes but this bitch knows how to please a woman." With that, he kisses Sukuna, forcing his tongue past his lips and exploring his mouth.

You watched, mouth agape as the men showed such an intimate display of dominance. Sukuna's fingers trailed down your back as he tongue fucked Gojo. Gaining more dominance, Sukuna fluidly pushes Gojo back far enough that he could slip two of his fingers inside of you.

While it was uncomfortable due to his sharp nails, you couldn't help but get a thrill as they scraped against your walls. Sukuna jerks his head away, his ruby eyes flared with lust and confidence. "Let's see about that."

You find yourself on your back with your head hanging off of the bed as Sukuna takes place over you and Gojo stands above you. The white haired man was beyond red and his dick was fairing no better.

It was long and an angry purple, dripping with so much pre cum that it had made his dick slick and shiny.

As if under a spell you open your mouth and Gojo quickly slides inside, gripping the sheets next to your head tightly as he face fucks you. You gag profusely as the head relentlessly slides down your throat without stopping.

You bring your hands to grip his thighs to try and gain some bearing but that only spurs him on as his thrust became rougher, and the sound of you choking becomes rhythmic as drool collects in the corner of your mouth.

"What happened to treating her gently?" Sukuna smirks as he watches the skin around your neck bulge with each thrust. "S-Sorry, young lady, but your mouth is so fucking warm and tight." Gojo slows himself into a slow grind, tapping his fingers against the bulge in your neck. You finally get a chance to breathe through your nose.

Sukuna finger fucks you a little bit more, scraping his nails uncomfortably against the walls of your cunt. When he pulls them out, they are soaked and he licks his fingers clean, humming at the taste.

He positions himself at your entrance and pushes in without stopping. Your pained moan is muffled by the sound of Gojo's balls hitting your forehead but Sukuna still hears it and mutters out a quick apology as he goes slower. "Fu-ah~, what happened to breaking them?" Gojo said mockingly.

Sukuna glares before snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself completely inside of you. Your nails dug into Gojo's skin, and his hips stutterd as he moaned. Sukuna grips your chests and uses them for momentum as he opens you up on his dick. "For someone that was so reluctant, you sure are fucking wet down here."

Sukuna uses his thumb to circle your clit and your hips raised unapologetically from the shocks of pleasure. "Filthy little human." Sukuna laughed as he continued to play with your swollen clit.

Mixed with your lack of property oxygen, the boys running to your head, and the two sources of pleasure, your thighs shake and you cum around Sukuna's dick. He laughs darkly, speeding up his thrusts as he holds your limp legs in the air. "Yes, cum again. I want to feel your pathetic pussy squeeze my dick."

Gojo had stilled and was breathing heavily as he watched Sukuna disappear inside of you. "My turn." His still hard cock slips out of your mouth and you find yourself thrown into a coughing fit.

Sukuna begrudgingly switches spots with Gojo but takes joy in holding your head as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight. "Fuuuuuck. Perfect little mouth for me. I want you to swallow my cum wench!" You whined as Gojo pushes his cock inside of you.

It was longer than Sukuna's and you could already feel the soreness as the tip grazed against your cervix. Gojo adjusts your legs to rest on his shoulders as he folds you over.

The sensations are entirely too much as air is pushed out of you from the restricting position. The sensitive walls of your cunt both sucked and pushed Gojo's cock as he delivered deliberately slow strokes. "So messy down here." Gojo uses the palm of his hand to quickly swish at your clit.

Your brown legs tremble around your head and Sukuna uses this chance to grab your feet as leverage.

By now, your mouth had completely gone slack as he abused your throat, completely ignoring the scrape of your teeth around his shaft. "Fuck I'm gonna cum." Sukuna groans, speeding up. Gojo speeds up as well, "Shit me too, you better cum with me you two-faced bastard.!"

You grip the sheets for dear life and between you and me, you blacked out as the two filled your holes with milky cum. The tangling of body's unraveled and rested together as you all came down from your highs.

Well the boys did, you fell asleep.

They tuck you into the bed after Gojo changed the sheets. "So you said you can keep her in your zone?" Gojo nodded as he did his best to put your 4c hair into braids.

"Yeah, but what are we gonna do if she asks to go home." Sukuna smiled as he looked at his nails. Sinister later fills the empty abyss of Gojo's zone and the man looked boredly as Sukuna laughed.

"She can't go somewhere that no longer exists."