#Plus it was either that or a scar near his eye

[lady-zephyrine]

A process has occurred!

[fatecantstopme]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

[bunnys-kisses]

bright as the morning

simon "ghost" riley

cw: plus sized!reader, smut, pwp, body worship, possessive behavior, jealousy, age (early 20s/mid 30s), simon can pretty much bench-press you, oral sex, missionary the mating press

bunny says: like fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? request your own! (title inspired by hozier's 'too sweet')

there was a period of time you thought you were ugly. you thought guys either ignored you or made comments because of your size. the sight of you made them gag and they'd rather be single than date you. even now with more confidence, you still couldn't believe when men hit on you.

you were waiting for your boyfriend at the mechanic's shop. you were in nothing too special, just wanted to join simon as he got his car. but you were adamantly listening to a mechanic around your age talk your ear off about cars. you thought he was just being nice.

but then you felt the presence of your boyfriend. the air got cold when he was near and he looked over you like a shadow, "the car's here."

you looked over and smiled up at your lover. he took your hand in his hand and headed away from the mechanic. you tried to keep in pace with him but his strides were just too big. then in front of the car, he looked over at he other man and pulled you close to him and kissed you through his mask.

"my doll." he said quietly, "was he causin' ya any problems?"

you looked up at him and shook his head, "nope. he was just being nice."

he chuckled, "yeah... nice. let's get ya home, i heard you were makin' me somethin' special for dinner." then pulled away but kept his eyes on you.

you smiled, "it's canned soup, simon." and turned away to get to the other side of the car. you could feel his heavy gaze on you as you got into the vehicle. simon got in soon after, you didn't even notice the look he gaze the other man as he put his hand on your thigh.

he pulled away for a moment to put the keys in the ignition, but it was soon back on your thigh as he pulled away and headed home. the entire way home, his large hand was on your thigh. his strong fingers squeezed a little at their softness.

"are you okay?" you asked as you looked to him. you placed a hand over his, the roughness of his knuckled brushed against you palm.

"fine, love." he said gruffly.

you sighed, "i know you better than you know yourself then. tell me, did the mechanic over change you?"

"nah." he said, "just some punk talkin' to my girl."

you raised an eyebrows, "simon. he was just being sweet. nothing to be jealous over." you patted his shoulder and continued to look at him.

he replied, "after all these years, ya still don't know how beautiful you are." then looked over quickly to reach over and pinch your round cheek, "prettiest damn girl i've ever seen."

-

simon knew exactly how he was going to show how beautiful he thought you were. he liked how your thighs touched together, he loved the roundness of your face. he loved how you felt in his arms. you never held a gun, you never had to starve while on missions. you were content with the life you led up to that point. it wasn't marked by violence. you were safe enough to be a little softer around the middle, and simon though it was beautiful.

even if all your personality was extracted, he would still worship you like a devotee. worshiped your softness, kiss the plush skin. perfect.

you were in your bedroom and simon had you in his arms. he was pulling the t-shirt over your head. you wiggled out of it and helped him get off your body. he dropped the shirts then felt you up, his hard grasp lingered around your arms. he toyed with your breasts and groaned to himself.

his mask had long since been taken off. you could see the scarring on his lower face. as he played with your curves, you leaned up and kissed him on the scar on his chin.

he sighed contently, "he can't have this. only me." he let out a short chuckle through his nose before he went in for the deep kiss. he thought of the young mechanic who was trying to hit on you. it wasn't that he couldn't believe that someone would flirt with you, he just didn't get that someone couldn't see that you were already a taken woman!

no one else was allowed to flirt with him, but him!

he soon dropped to his knees and pulled your pants down. then soon your underwear followed to around your ankles. he spread your thighs a little and dipped his head between your legs.

you let out a small noise and tangled your hands in his blond hair. your face felt aflame from his attention. you said, "simon!"

he chuckled, "too sweet." he kissed your thigh, "too sweet for me." then continued to orally pleasure you. he felt his soft thighs in his hands was a feeling that made him excitement.

you quivered a little and he held you up against him. you held onto his hand as his tongue lapped against your clit. you tasted like a dream, while a weaker man would expect his girl to taste like candy. but the nature taste of your wetness made his cock strain in his jeans.

"shit... simon." you whimpered.

he continued to lick at your sweet pussy and marveled in the sounds that you made. it was music to his ears as he heard you. he wanted to make sure you knew how good you looked to him.

a lesser man would ignore you for your size, but what did they know. simon knew better, he was a real man. and he loved a partner who was soft. meant it let him protect you.

he pulled away and looked up at you with wetness staining his chin. he said, 'c'mon, love. get those legs around my head." and then slowly got you up on his shoulders with your pussy right in his face once more.

he held you up by your lower back and continued to pleasure you orally. when he hit a sweet spot, your thighs clenched around his head. he made sure you were secure up there. perfect against him as made you feel good.

and with your hands in his hair, he felt amazing. his cock strained against his pants as he held you up. he often told you that it was like a bag of grapes when he picked you up. he was trained to hold up a lot more, so it was quite easy for him to pick you up.

you yelped from the sensation of his tongue on you, you panted as you held his head tighter. his forehead up against your stomach. it was a sore spot to acknowledge, but he knew how to make every inch of you feel special. even if you were insecure.

"always mine, doll." he said softly, his kisses littered the soft skin of your cunt. his touches were forms of worship across your back. he was a devotee to the religion of your love. he remembered the first time he made you orgasm on his fingers, he felt the thump in his chest. his cold heart shattered into a beating organ.

he had found a life post-war. something beyond blood and conflict. a place he could nestle his aching bones and rest. you had opened your heart and home to him, and he would be forever grateful.

it often shocked him that you weren't the most confident woman to ever exist. but he'd just have to show his worship every day until you believed it too.

he raked his blunt nails down your back side and over your ass before he held onto you lower back once more and tried to get as deep as he could against your cunt.

"please!" you whimpered, "i can't cum like this."

he said something then smacked your ass. he groaned between your thighs. it was his mission now to make sure you came on his tongue. he could hold you up all day if he had to. he felt you tense up and his assault on your clit gave way for you to hold onto him tightly and kicked out your legs as you finished on his tongue.

he chuckled as he got up slowly and headed to the bed. he placed you down gently and gazed at your naked body. simon saw the birth of venus painting when in a mission in italy. but he could believe he was seeing it for a second time when he looked at you.

you looked up at him, your face felt hot as you rubbed your wet thighs together. you didn't know what to do with your hands so you held onto the covers under you as you watched your boyfriend strip down into nothing.

that strong body, with a little more insulation than when you first met. but he was strong and imposing. he could still kill as effectively as he could when he was in the military. you swallowed and covered your face.

"don't hide from me. i want to see it all." he said as he gazed down at you.

you moved up the bed and he got on top of you. he handled you easily and with care. he loved the feeling of your softness against him. you felt like a dream, a warm heat he could find comfort in.

he didn't want anyone else to have you. he wanted you all to himself. to enjoy and love. to make him feel complete as he rubbed his cock up against your slit him holding your legs.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

he continued to rub up against you, teasing your pussy before he sank his length into you. he was tempted to pin you down to the bed, but he liked when you got all shy. he found in endearing when he made you blush so much that you hide yourself from him.

"do you like that?"

"love it."

he then slipped his cock into you, he sank in easily thanks to all his work on your pussy. he held your legs up as he pushed in fully. he exhaled deeply as he felt the air leave his chest.

you tried to kick out your legs once more but he kept them pinned to him as he started to rock back and forth. he moved against you, letting your wetness give him access to the deepest parts of you.

he moved against you and you held onto the bed under you.

"you look amazing." he said, "i wanted to kill that guy for talkin' to ya. i want you, and i want you all to myself. you're too perfect. all mine."

you looked at him and replied, you breathed deeply, "i only want you too, simon. i wouldn't want anyone else." you felt yourself get dragged as he got off the bed and held you up by the hips a she pushed down into your cock which almost left you in a mating press.

you felt your stomach in your throat as he pushed down into you. the sounds of sex filled the air as the two of you fucked on the bed you shared.

"i think you're just perfect." he said, "no other girlie like you. you make me wanna be a good man."

you replied innocently, "you are a good man." if you only you knew what he had done before he met you. he leaned forward and kissed you once more which squished your further.

he thrusted into you at a quick but steady pace. he watched your face changed the more he brought you pleasure. you were a sight to behold in front of him. he watched your body move against him, your curves shake with his movements.

you two fucked on the bed, well at the edge of the bed. it wasn't long however before you two felt close to orgasm. he cotninued to thrust into your body, he loved the feeling of the two of you against one another. it was a comforting feeling.

he thought you were sexy, but also a place of comfort for him. a place where he could rest his head and find content with life. he just thought you were amazing. the perfect woman.

with another hard thrust, he finished inside of you. and soon you clamped around his cock and came around it. you held onto the covers for support as he railed you. once you were over the tip of your orgasm, you felt the fight leave your body.

you both got to the top of the bed and cuddled in each other's arms naked. he rubbed your curves and kissed at your neck. he could feel the sweat on your neck. he sighed contently.

"simon."

"yes, love."

"you really do think i'm pretty?'

"i don't think you're pretty. i think every woman should be jealous of you." he chuckled softly as his lips went into your hair where he buried his nose in your strands. you were his mornings, afternoons and evenings, and no snot nosed mechanic is going to get in the way of that. <3

xoxo, bunny

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

DRABBLE: THEY’RE YOUR BLIND V-DAY DATE ❤️🍷💕 (CROSSOVER ANIME) (18+) (For Black!Fem!Readers)

Writer’s Note: Got another something for V-Day for y’all. I decided to do one for multiple anime characters cuz I’m a slut for all them 2D characters & couldn’t decide on one specific show lol. Plus it sounded fun! And important disclaimers I’ll just make a note of before the actual Drabble. I hope y’all enjoy! ☺️🥰 -Jazz

********

LEVI ACKERMAN (AOT)

The first night, you’re nervous, to say the least, especially when Hange warns you about his appearance. 

“Why?” you had asked over margaritas and tacos, already perplexed and slightly unnerved by her warning. “Is he really ugly or something?” 

Hange, sitting across from you in her glasses with her locks of long, chestnut brown hair cascading down her shoulders, shook her head. “No, no, my dear!” she immediately protested. “He’s actually quite handsome despite the broody thing. But he does have some scars from a mission gone wrong at his job and he’s blind in one eye.”

She took a sip of her margarita as if to soften the next blow. “And he’s missing a leg,” she finished. 

You were taken aback, to say the least, but you didn’t let that stop you. You aren’t prejudiced and you refused to let that stop you from at least giving Hange’s friend a chance.

Apparently, Levi has been a firefighter for a couple of years and has recently broken up with a longtime girlfriend, so Hange figured he could get back into the dating pool and realize that there are great girls out there starting with you! 

So the weekend of Valentine’s Day, Hange texts you the name of the restaurant and you take an Uber there after spending the entire day doing your hair, picking out an outfit, and giving yourself a makeover. You decided on a soft glam look as this is the first time you’re meeting the guy and a pretty, red dress that hugs your frame and zips in the back. 

When you get out of the Uber in front of the quaint and low-key yet romantic restaurant, you take a table near the door so it’ll be easier to see Levi walk in and flag him down. You still have no idea what he looks like, only that he’ll be wearing a black trench coat, he’s kinda short, and he has a large scar going over his eye.

“His team calls him Scar, apparently,” Hange laughed. “It helps that he has a smooth, deep voice too!” 

You admit that you were curious to see him and hear that “smooth, deep” voice she told you about. So you sit and order a glass of wine, waiting for his arrival as you stare out at the passing cars and people…only he never comes.

You wait and you wait and you wait, but he never shows his face. You call Hange, thinking maybe you have the wrong restaurant or time or day, but all is correct. You think that maybe he’s in traffic or something came up, but Hange never calls to tell you either. 

When your appetizer comes and the candle sitting in the middle of the table begins to melt, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. You’ve been stood up.

The realization hits you like a brick to the face. Quickly, you order the check and a box for your food and pay the waiter before running out of the restaurant in tears. You feel stupid. Wasteful. Foolish in your pretty dress and heels. 

Hange comes over to see you with the quickness when you tell her that night, ice cream and face masks in tow. “I can’t believe him!” she says, enraged, with a sheet mask on her face. “He told me he’d be there and then he doesn’t show up? Who does he think he is? Why, I’m gonna give that man a piece of my–“ 

“Don’t Hange,” you sigh, shoveling another spoonful of ice cream into your mouth. “Just leave it be. He probably just changed his mind or wasn’t ready.”

You are ready to move on and forget it, but the universe doesn’t let you. A week later while at work of all places, you get an unknown call. Thinking it’s one of those scammers, you give a sharp “hello”. 

“Uh…hi,” a smooth, deep, velvety voice replies. “This is Levi, Hange’s friend. This is Y/N, correct?”

You heart drops into your ass and it takes a moment for you to reply. “Uh, y-yeah,” you answer. “Yeah, this is her. You’re Hange’s friend? Did you get my number from her?” 

“I had to,” Levi replies, his voice making your stomach do flips. “I’m sorry if that’s weird, but I just…”

He pauses, sighing. “I had to talk to you,” he finishes, sounding completely beaten. “I’m so sorry for not coming last week. I was so afraid for you to see me because of my appearance. I was so sure you'd find me unattractive and not like what you see. I’m very insecure in that and I let it get the best of me, but that doesn’t mean you deserved that. Hange already went up my ass about it.” 

You softly giggle, knowing she would. "So, if you don’t despise me too much and you’re willing, can we meet up for dinner this Friday night if you’re free?”

He sounds hopeful and slightly afraid. You don’t know why you say yes, but you do and you make plans to meet for ramen on Friday. When the day comes, you wear a more casual outfit–-a pretty cashmere sweater, jeans, and some boots––but still style your hair and makeup to look presentable. ‘Second time’s a charm, I guess,’ you think. 

It’s a dry, cool night so you wait outside the restaurant for Levi to arrive, texting him that you’re there prior to your arrival. Ten minutes into waiting, you think he isn’t going to show and that he duped you again, but then your phone rings. Your heart leaps at the sight of his caller ID and you answer. “Hello?” you answer, noticing how breathless you sound. 

“Look up,” Levi says and you do, seeing him standing before you across the street under a streetlight.

The soft light illuminates his features: a sharp jawline and cheekbones, soft, pale skin, one eye the color of a gray ocean, and the other milky where a long scar runs from his eyebrow to his cheek. He walks towards you slowly with a slight gate in his step, his hand on his left leg where his prosthetic is, and finally makes it over to you. He is extremely attractive and smells like toasted vanilla.

“You’re Y/N, I take it?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

“And you’re Levi,” you reply, your heart battering against your ribcage.

He gives a slight nod, his one eye roaming over your frame. “My God, you’re stunning,” he chuckles as if he can hardly believe it. “Even more than that the first night. I had come, but I never went into the restaurant. I was so intimidated by the way you looked that I just–“ 

“Stop,” you interrupt, not liking the thought of him standing outside looking into the restaurant window at you, feeling so horrible about his looks.

“That was then and this is now. And you’re wrong, by the way.”

One of Levi’s eyebrows raises in confusion. “I do like what I see,” you say, your voice soft and shy. “For the record, you’re one of the sexiest guys I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” 

The laugh Levi lets out just about fills you with joy and you just about melt before he holds the door for you to enter the restaurant, not so discreetly staring at your ass as he does.

NANAMI KENTO (JJK)

He’s a professor and he’s a blonde is what you’re told by Gojo…but that’s about all he tells you, the asshole. 

“You’re asking me to go on a date with a dude I don’t even know and you won’t even tell me what he looks like?”

You’re sitting with him at brunch with bottomless mimosas when he runs it by you. You get the feeling he just invited you out with the promise of mimosas, good omelettes, and paying just to toss this at you. 

Gojo gives you his big, gigawatt smile as he sits across from you wearing his usual shades. “Trust me, babe! He’s a good and attractive guy! If I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck him myself.” He snorts to himself, shoveling some eggs into his mouth. “But I don’t even think I’m his type.” 

From what you gathered at the start of brunch, Kento Nanami is Gojo’s very stoic, very introverted, very lonely friend who is in need of a date this upcoming Valentine’s Day. Though intelligent and handsome, Nanami isn’t too good with women and hasn’t been in a romantic relationship is quite some time.

“I swear, he’s not an incel,” Gojo swears, one hand on his heart and the other held high. “He loves women! He’s just…awkward.” 

You aren’t sure if you like that answer. “What if I meet him and I don’t like him?” you ask, taking a break from your mimosa. “I mean, I’m only agreeing to this because you said you’d pay me.”

And Gojo did. He figures you’re the perfect girl––smart, pretty, and funny––to bring Nanami out of his shell. “$50,” he sing-songs. “And if you hate his guts, you'll get another $50, I promise. But give him a chance, Y/N! He needs it!” 

To not hear him whine and beg, you roll your eyes and agree. Gojo arranges for you to meet with Nanami at a winter light show in the park that is done every year. It’s the perfect place to meet since it’s romantic and very populated.

You dress in your warmest and cutest coat before hurrying to meet Nanami, your boots crunching in the snow. The park is decorated in twinkling lights that line the trees, walkways, and fountains. 

You’re so enchanted by the lights that you barely see the slick of ice lining the sidewalk. You misstep and your left foot goes skidding. “Oh, shit!” you gasp as you fall, but you don't feel the ground or the cold snow.

You don’t feel anything at all except two warm, strong arms wrapped around you. You look up into the warm eyes of an older man. An older, extremely attractive man with a blonde undercut and wearing a tan wool coat. “Are you alright, miss?” he worriedly asks. His voice is deep yet warm and sweet like honey.

You’re so taken by the stranger that you barely notice that he has set you upright. “Um…yeah,” you answer albeit softly. 

You blink at him, noticing how tall and well-built he is behind his coat. His hands are strong and capable and you find yourself staring at them even when he shoves them into his pocket. “Nanami?” you hesitantly question.

You watch his darker blonde brows furrow in confusion then rise in realization. “You’re Y/N,” he realizes. “Forgive me. Gojo didn’t tell me what you’d look up or what you’d be wearing.” 

You think you see his eyes trailing over you, but you can’t focus on it for too long. “That’s okay,” you laugh. “That’s Gojo, for you. How do you know him?”

Nanami begins to walk with you to the line at the entrance gate to enter the event, keeping the same slow pace as you. “We went to the same high school and remained friends ever since. How did you meet him?” 

“We met through a mutual friend and just clicked,” you explain. “Her name is Shoko.” Recognition crosses Nanami’s face at the name. “Shoko?” he asks, a light flickering in his eyes. “I know her as well. We all went to the same school.” 

“What a coincidence!” you giggle, glad to have something to break the ice (other than your fall). “Thank you again for helping me. I know I’m dumb for wearing these things in the snow.” You nod down at your heeled boots to which Nanami only stares at, never smiling. His expression is unreadable and slightly intimidating. But you can tell it’s just awkwardness. Now you see what Gojo meant. 

But rather than be unnerved by it, you find yourself wanting to break through it. You want to get to the warm core of this man. “Um…should we walk?” you ask, nodding at the entrance gate. Nanami nods but looks slightly worried.

“Will you be alright?” he asks, still staring at your feet. “You may want to hold onto me.” He offers you his arm, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks that one could pass off for the cold. Your heart leaps at the chance to touch him, even be near him. 

“What a gentleman,” you chuckle. “I didn't think chivalry still existed.” You take his coat sleeve and let him lead you through the entrance into the park’s first trail.

A chuckle that makes your stomach flip and your pussy leap leaves Nanami’s mouth. “I wouldn’t say all of that but thank you. I would just think I’m being a good human being. So Gojo told me about your job. What is that like?” 

The park is truly beautiful, decorated head to toe with lights that twinkle and dance. But you’re not focusing on the lights; just Nanami and his conversation. For such a stoic guy, he can really hold a conversation.

He tells you all about his job as a professor and his students; what subjects he likes; his life outside of work. He asks you about you and all of your habits, hobbies, and joys. He listens intently, putting them all in his brain’s filing cabinet. You find similarities about each other, including favorite books, movies, and your love for the beach. 

The date lasts for an hour and you enjoy every minute of it. You like being around Nanami, enjoying his stale humor and shy smile. More than anything, you like his presence.

You like how soft his wool coat feels under your finger. You like how he keeps his arm at reach, even when you release him at times. You like how he keeps the same pace as you, never walking too fast and always staying at your side, his black leather shoes tapping against the concrete.

You’re feeling him and you want to let him know that when you finally reach the end of the park where the last attraction, an ice sculptor decorated in lights, stands. 

“Wow,” you sigh. “So pretty.” 

Nanami stands next to you as you stare up in awe at the attraction. “Yes,” he agrees, though he isn’t looking at the lights. His attention is solely on you.

He likes the way the lights illuminate your skin which contrasts with his. He likes the brown of your eyes, so warm and tempting like chocolate. He likes your humor and sweet laugh. He likes you and he isn’t too shy to show it. You can see it when you turn and find him already staring at you, bold and heated. 

He is sexy. He is alluring. And you want him. “Nanami?” you shyly ask.

His eyebrows raise, acknowledging your question. You turn to him fully and stare up at him through your lashes. “I don’t usually do this, but…would you want to come home with me?”

He is silent, staring at you wordlessly, and your stomach flips with discomfort. “For coffee, maybe?” you add. 

Nanami doesn’t have to be asked again.

To end such a perfect date, you find yourself on your back with Nanami on top of you, looking so handsome above you as he pounds your pussy into the mattress. His big hands pin your thighs apart and up to his broad shoulders, your painted toes and skin contrasting deliciously with his lighter skin.

“So pretty,” he groans. “You were the prettiest thing there tonight. Fuck, darling, you’re so tight!” 

He thrusts into you harder, faster, making the bed squeak and you lose your voice from how loud you moan. You can feel yourself about to cum after so much foreplay and stimulation (Nanami is a gentle lover).

“Kento,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders. “I’m gonna cum! Please…please cum with me!” 

And he does. At the sound of you begging, he bursts inside of you with a ragged groan as you cum all over his big cock, your pussy walls squeezing around him and stroking his shaft.

As you do, his lips find yours, giving you a passionate kiss that could melt the ice with how hot it is. 

NICO ROBIN  (One Piece)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized! 

Nami swore up and down that you needed to go on a date for Valentine’s Day to forget about your short-term “situationship”. 

“Just give a chance, Y/N,” she said to you over ramen. She treated you to lunch at the best ramen place in town while you were on your work break. “It’s just for one night and I can’t stand the thought of my best friend alone on Valentine’s Day! And she’s a great girl, seriously!” 

You looked down at your bowl of ramen, feeling hot under your sweater dress that clung to your plump body. The idea of a blind date didn’t appeal to you much, especially being such a big girl. Usually, when people got a look at you, they either ghosted you after the first date or didn’t give you the time of day. Why did she think this was a good idea?

“Just be careful,” Zoro said, shoveling spicy miso ramen into his mouth. “She’ll charm the pants off of you…or skirt…whatever you’ll be wearing.” Nami smacked him on the the arm hard, making the green-haired hunk hiss in pain. “Don’t listen to him, honey. Robin is just a sweet-talker. You have nothing to worry about!” 

But when you finally get a look at your date, you don’t think that’s true. Nami set the date up at a high-scale bar where the working class and hotshot businessmen come for happy hour.

When you walk in, you immediately feel self-conscious despite looking oh-so yummy in your waistband coat that flares around your waist and pink dress that makes your skin and brown eyes pop. But the dress also sticks to your body, accentuating each curve, ripple, and roll. Though your stomach ripples with nerves, you also feel slightly confident catching eyes under the warm lights above. 

You sit at the sleek bar and order yourself a cocktail to loosen up a bit more while you search for your date at the door. Nami only told you that she’s “tall with long black hair and might be wearing purple”.

You’re curious as to what this girl is like and if she likes what she sees. You sip on your cocktail and scroll through your phone for a couple of minutes, completely unaware of the eyes you have captured from down at the bar. 

When you turn around in your stool to place your glass down, you find another cocktail sitting behind you. Confused, you flag down the bartender. “I didn’t order this,” you tell him, pushing the glass towards him. “It was sent to you,” he explains. “From down at the bar.” You look in that direction, but find no one paying any attention to you. “But I have a date,” you protest. “I can't accept this.” 

“That’s correct,” a sweet yet smooth and sultry voice purrs behind you, “and it’s usually rude to deny a drink from her.” The voice causes your body to react instantly: the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end; your heart pounds in your chest; your stomach flips. You turn and see your blind date standing behind you in the flesh. 

Beautiful isn’t a word to use for Robin. She is absolutely stunning. A straight vixen oozing confidence and poise as she stands behind you in a purple cocktail dress that illuminates her soft, pale skin and blue eyes that steal the air from your lungs.

She is tall and slender with piano fingers painted in a dark rouge that you want to feel wrapped around your body, but has a rack that can stop traffic and is definitely catching eyes. Her long, shiny, black locks of hair cascade down her slender shoulders, catching the light above. You are in awe of her and her beauty as are the others in the bar. 

“Y/N?” she asks in her alluring voice. Wordlessly, you nod and close your mouth to avoid looking like an idiot. “I’m Nico Robin, Nami’s friend. She’s told me so much about you.” She puts a slender hand out to shake yours, giving you a whiff of her luxurious-smelling perfume and a peek of golden Tiffany bracelet. 

You put your hand in hers, feeling warm from her touch. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. “Please, have a seat. Do you want a drink?” Robin raises her brows questionably as she settles onto a stool next to you. You flush under the lights, thanking God that he made you Black. “It’s only right since you ordered me one.” 

Robin smiles, her pearly whites and dimples making you damn near melt. “How sweet of you,” she giggles. She orders herself a dirty Martini with extra olives and thanks you again when it comes. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work.” She slowly crosses her soft, long, milky legs over one another. You do your best not to stare. 

You give her a smile, pretending that you’re not turned the fuck on by her, and lean your elbow against your chin. “So you’re an archaeologist, right? That’s such an interesting job.”

She smiles at the compliment and at the mention of her career as you sip your cocktail. “Well, I’ve always been attracted to history since I was young. I’m attracted to intelligence too, which you seem to have a lot of.” Her smile turns flirty and now you know what Zoro was talking about. You’re already charmed by her. “Tell me: what’s your job like?” she asks. 

Your conversations last for hours and flow perfectly, especially after you get your second drink in you. You tell her about your job and quietly gush over her curiosity and awe, realizing how much she loves learning. You talk about everything, from city life to books to anime, learning that you both love magical girl anime, especially Sailor Moon.

You didn't expect that from Robin because of how poised she is and her love for dark colors, but as soon as you mention Sailor Moon, her eyes widen in excitement. “I love Sailor Moon!” She laughs. “I cosplayed as Sailor Mars two Halloweens ago. I bet you’d look so pretty as a Sailor Scout, especially with the skirt.” 

That’s another thing you learn about Robin: she’s a flirt. She sneaks in little sly compliments to obviously make you flustered…and it’s working. You try to do the same, complimenting her on her outfit and her smile. “I can see why everyone is so fond of you in here,” you say, nodding at the group of businessmen playing pool who are not so discreetly staring at you both from across the room.

Robin giggles, turning back to you with a hooded gaze. “Too bad,” she sighs, not at all sounding disappointed. “I’m here with you.” 

As the night goes on, it gets looser as you both become more comfortable with each other. You talk about everything and anything, telling each other funny stories and showing pictures of your pets. “You’re a dog mom too?” you coo, gushing over her wallpaper of her and a fluffy, brown animal dressed as Santa Claus though he has pointed ears and horns.

“Reindeer mom,” she corrects you and titters at your confusion. “It’s a long story, but that’s my perfect little boy. His name is Chopper.” 

Other than Robin being a sweet-talker as Nami said, you also find out many other things about this alluring, attractive woman. Like how much she loves plays and Disney movies, becoming so excited when you ask her about her favorite films. “I love musicals,” she shyly says, an endearing blush on her face. “Can you tell I’m a secret theatre kid?”

Or how she tends to ramble about information she’s obtained from books and documentaries about tribes long gone and age-old urban legends. You could listen to her talk for hours. Unbeknownst to you, she feels the same about you whenever you speak about yourself and your interests. 

As the alcohol takes its affect on you both, she also tells you that she’s a devil fruit user, a term you’ve heard before since many in the world are, including your mutual friend Luffy. When you ask her about her ability, she just winks behind her third martini glass. “A woman never draws all of her cards…not all at once, anyway.” 

As the night draws on, so do the drinks and soon, you’re feeling loose and bold. You decide to show her your hidden talent which is rolling your eyes to the right and the left. “I can wiggle my ears too,” you say, showing her much to her amusement. She applauds you, giggling at your talent. “My, you’re full of surprises,” she giggles. “And so am I.” 

You suddenly feel something tickling your sides and look down to see two disembodied hands tickling you. Robin’s hands. You look at her in shock as she retracts her extra arms, using them to grab her third martini and take a sip. “The perks of being a devil fruit user,” she chuckles. At the sight of your expression, she grows concerned. “Do they frighten you?” 

“No,” you answer honestly. “They’re…” You stare at her extra hands, wondering how many more she has and how they would feel on your body. “Pretty,” you decide to answer with. That is enough for Robin to decide what she wants from you tonight. 

So when you’re both still sitting there when the bar is emptying out, she makes it known. “Oh, dear,” she sighs, exhaling in disappointment as the bartenders clean and the drunk crowd empties out. “It appears that our date has become to an end.” She turns to you, placing a warm hand on yours. “I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N,” she says, a smile on her face that makes you ache. 

You don’t want tonight to end. You don’t want her to go. You need more of her touch. She seems to understand and see the mutual disappointment in your eyes because she doesn’t release your hand.

“Unless you want this night to continue,” she adds, her voice like honey in your ears. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t very attracted to you too, unless I’m mistaking the chemistry.”

You can’t speak, so you shake your head and her eyes twinkle. She leans in toward you, engulfing you in her scent. “Just say the words and I’ll go with you,” she whispers into your ear. 

Desire overwhelms you and you squeeze her hand, interlacing your fingers. “I’ll call a Lyft,” you exhale. Robin smiles, keeping her hand in yours. 

She doesn’t let go even hours later when your fingers are interlaced with each other while your legs are pinned open by her extra hands on the bed. Your moans and whimpers fill the darkness of your bedroom as she moves her tongue against your clit, moaning eagerly and sloppily into your pussy as she eats you like there is no tomorrow.

“Now I can really show you how good I am with my hands,” she giggles, looking up at you between your thighs. “You’re so cute like this, pretty girl.” 

You can feel that knot in your core tightening the more she moves her jaw, going faster and faster until you have no choice. “Robin,” you whine. “I'm gonna…gonna…!” Your back arches and your legs shake around Robin’s face. 

Her hold on you tightens, her hands gripping your thighs.“Cum for me, gorgeous,” she hums. “I’ve got you. Cum all over my face like a good girl.”

One thing is for sure while you gush around Robin’s face, loving how she eagerly laps up everything you give her: another date is definitely in the future for you and her.

PRO!KATSUKI BAKUGOU & KIRISHIMA EJIROU (BHNA)

*Note: Reader is plus-sized & a bimbo! 

*Disclaimer: Bakugou & Kiri are both aged-up (over the age of 18) in this drabble! 

You don’t know why you agreed to do this blind date thing, but your friend put you up to it after she reminded you of your NY resolution to try new things to help yourself. 

“You need to put yourself out there more, girl!” she argued over the phone with you. “Do you see how hot you are?! You deserve to have someone on your arm!” You pouted as you painted your toe nails a pretty bubblegum pink, your feet hanging over you bathtub smelling like vanilla bubblebath. 

Though she is right about you deserving a nice guy to tell you how pretty you are, most of the guys you dated either used you as arm candy, hit in then quit it, or just stopped talking to you because of your, uh…bimbo-ness. You know you have no filter and sometimes you do come off as dumb, but you’re trying your best! And you’re kind and the sweetest person anyone will ever meet! Isn’t that enough? 

“Yeah, but a blind date though?” you complained into the phone sitting on your sink. “How am I gonna go on a date if I can’t see, girl?” You gasped, even more mortified. “Or will my date be blind?! How will be able to see me and my cute outfit?!” 

Your friend just laughed. She knows you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you’re just too cute and sweet. “Honey, no! A blind date is when you meet someone you’ve never seen or met before. Someone else sets the date up for you.”

Your heart resumed its normal pattern and you relaxed into the water. “Ohhh,” you realized with a giggle. “Well, if you’re setting it up, can you tell me anything about him?”

Your friend refused, much to your dismay. “Nope, but you’ll meet him later this week. Saturday night at 7 PM, don’t be late. I’ll give you all the details before then.” You hung up, a bit nervous but excited, already picturing your outfit for the day. 

The Saturday of Valentine’s Day weekend, you go to the cafe your friend tells you to go to which is only a few blocks from your apartment. You dress in a pink sweater that does nothing to hide your voluptuous bosom and a pretty, cherry red skit that hugs your tummy and voluptuous ass, the damn thing so short that the ruffles stop mid-thigh, a sliver of your asscheeks seen whenever you bend over. You pair your V-Day outfit with some warm stockings and high black boots before putting on your favorite fluffy, pink coat. 

An hour later after putting on some vanilla-scented body spray and giving your lips a slick of your favorite Fenty Gloss in a sparkly pink, you stand in line to order your food, hoping that will ease your nerves over today. Because your friend loves you so much, she set you up for two dates today: one at the cafe and the other later tonight at your favorite bar.

Your first date is a redheaded hunk, according to your friend. “He’s got red hair and he’s a fucking giant,” she giggles. “And he’s SUPER fine. You’ll know him when see him.” You melted at the details. “I do like big guys,” you sigh dreamily. Your second date is just as fine, but a hothead. “My friend works with him at his agency and apparently, he’s got a mouth.” Your friend rolled her eyes. "The dude is like a pit bull, but he's so fucking sexy.” 

“I’m a little nervous though,” you mumbled, starting to feel insecure. “You think he’ll like me?” Your friend looked at you like you were insane, making you laugh. “Who wouldn’t? You’re adorable!” 

And you feel adorable when you go next to the counter and the cashier’s eyes shoots straight to your tits. You don’t notice, too busy feening for some sweet, sugar coffee. “Hi, can I please get a peppermint mocha latte with two pumps of caramel, please?” You are so damn cute that the guy blushes and quickly rings you up. You pay and thank him when you get your drink before walking off, but stop when something captures you. 

There, hidden behind a glass container behind the counter, are a bunch of seasonal-flavored doughnuts lined up in a row. Your eyes immediately go for the one coated in pink frosting, powdered sugar, and red and pink sprinkles. “Oooh,” you coo to yourself. “So pretty.” 

“Agreed,” says a raspy, sexy voice from behind you. You turn a little too quickly and a bit of coffee sloshes over the top of your drink and onto the crotch of the guy standing behind you. “Oops, I’m so sorry!” you gasp. “I didn’t even see you! Oh, it’s gonna stain! Here, quick!” You quickly reach for a wad of napkins and begin to dab at the man’s crotch, not even realizing how it looks. 

Still not even bothering to look up, the blonde furiously blushes while the redhead behind him stifles a laugh. “That’s quite okay,” he chuckles. “At least now he smells like peppermint down there.” The blonde growls like he wants to commit murder. “Plus, Katsuki was standing way too close to you in line, weren’t you, ‘Suki?” 

You hand the napkins over to the blonde, hyper-focused on the nickname. “‘Suki,” you giggle. “That’s such a cute…” Your words die in you when you finally, finally, look up into the eyes of the two finest, sexiest men you’ve ever seen in your life.

One of them has long, red hair cascading down his broad shoulders, fanged teeth that flash at you as he smiles, friendly, crimson eyes, and piercings––dangling from his ears, embedded in his eyebrow, and snakebites in his bottom lip.

The other sports a platinum blonde undercut and a scowl that slightly softens at the sight of you. He, too, has crimson eyes that widen at your pretty face and outfit and one piercing in his plump bottom lip. The only things similar about the duo are how tall, buff, and sexy they both are. “Name,” you weakly finish. “I-I’m Y/N.” 

The redhead grins, putting his big ass hand out for a shake. “Ejirou,” he says, “but my friends call me Kiri.” You do so, noticing how calloused his palm is and how much his sweater stretches against his pecs. The blonde has the same issue, his V-neck shirt way too tight for his toned body. “Bakugou,” he grumbles, giving you an intense stare that makes you melt on the inside. 

Those gears in your head start turning and you gape at the duo. “Wait…I know you two!” you gasp. “You guys are those superheroes, right? Dynamight and Red Riot!” Kiri tosses his head back and laughs while Bakugou glares daggers at you. “Damn, could you be any louder?” he growls. You cover your mouth, flushing with embossment. “Sorry!” you whisper. "I’m just a big fan of you two! I almost didn’t recognize you in normal clothes. I have your posters and all of your merch!” 

Kiri gives Bakugou a look that he would seeing a cat do something cute. And that is what you are: a cute little kitty. Something adorable and sweet yet you have a sexiness to you that both men are coming to find. “Well, it's always a pleasure to meet a fan. Especially such a cute one.” He grins at the way you giggle bashfully. “I’m guessing you’re a fan of sweets? Me too. I was actually planning on getting one of those for my boyfriend, my date, and I.” 

You notice Kiri gaze at Bakugou when he says “my boyfriend” and you quietly gush to yourself. “Oh, you two are dating?” you coo, much to Bakugou’s dismay. He’s so cute when he blushes! “That’s so sweet! Here, I’ll treat you guys to ‘em to make up for that nasty spill.” 

Kiri is just about ready to scoop you up and take you home with them when you dig into your bag for your Hello Kitty wallet. “Well, isn’t that sweet? You up for somethin’ sweet, Katsuki?” 

Though Bakugou feels the same way, he still wants to feel you out and see if this “bimbo-esque” personality you’ve got going on is a fake. “It’s whatever,” he grumbles. “But you’d better get me the chocolate one. I don’t want the one with all of those sprinkles and shit on it.” You vigorously nod, taking out some cash. “You got it!” you giggle and hand them the cash. After getting back in line, Kiri orders one chocolate and two strawberry donuts and his and Bakugou’s drinks. 

You thank the cashier when she hands you each pastry individually wrapped in a paper bag, nice, warm, and toasty from the oven. You turn to the pros and hand them the treats. “Here you guys go,” you sweetly say. Bakugou grumbles as he takes his while Kiri gives you a big gigawatt grin. “Thanks, cutie,” he chuckles. You expect them to start eating them, but you’re shocked when Bakugou hands one of the strawberry ones to you. 

You freeze, confused. “But…this is for your date,” you say, completely clueless. “Aren’t you gonna give it to them?” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose like a dad with a dumbass child. “Oh, my God,” he groans. Kiri thinks it’s endearingly hilarious, holding his stomach as he laughs. “You are our date, silly girl!” he giggles. “Well, mine, technically. Your friend set us up to have dates with you at different times today, but we both just came together since we’re dating. I hope that’s cool.” 

You gape at them, wondering if they’re serious. Two of the hottest pros on a date with you? At the same time?! You just about squeal with excitement. “Sure!” you giggle, your heart leaping for joy. “The more, the better! Let’s go sit down so we can get to know each other more.” 

The two are happy to oblige. Kiri picks out a table in the back that is more secluded and near the window for the sights. Before you sit, you turn to Katsuki with an apologetic pout. “I’m sorry again about the spill, Bakugou.” 

The blonde cuts his eyes at you and you can't tell what he’s thinking due to how permanent his scowl is. But that changes when he pulls your chair out for you. “Katsuki,” he replies. “And stop mentionin’ it. Besides, I know some other way you can make up for it later…maybe with your number.” He gives you a lopsided smirk that makes you tingle between your thighs. 

“Chill,” Kiri cuts in, rolling his eyes. “Sorry about him. We don’t usually flirt too hard on the first date…but you’re just too cute to resist.” He boldly looks you up and down, tugging lightly on his bottom lip. You wonder what else he can do with his mouth as the cafe’s atmosphere becomes more tense between the three of you. “Well, I could say the same about you two,” you purr, a shy giggle leaving your lips. 

That’s what the duo want to hear. Bakugou’s smirk widens, a twinkle in his vermillion eyes. “Glad the feelin’ is mutual, mama,” he whispers. “So you sittin’ or what? My fuckin’ coffee’s gettin’ cold.” You do so and you never want the date to end…unless it’s to spend more time with them in private.

NICHOLAS "NICO" BROWN (GANGSTA!)

You stand outside of a jazz club one chilly night, watching the passersby and wondering which one may be your blind date. 

Worick told you all about his friend, Nico, but you’ve never met him before. You only know that the two work together and have known each other since childhood. You’ve only known Worick for two years after he helped you out of a messy financial situation with your asshole ex-boyfriend who, according to Worick, nearly shat himself when Worick threatened to bring Nico in to handle things.

Apparently, Nico is well-known throughout the town for being an extremely threatening and intimidating figure. 

Why in the fuck would Worick want to set you up with someone like that? “He’s a cool dude, really!” he assured you over coffee. “Just…quiet. And it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s deaf. He’s just a quiet guy; a little awkward; introverted…” 

‘Not to mention threatening and intimidating,’ you thought to yourself. “And you thought I was just perfect for this guy?” you scoffed. “What will we even talk about? How can I talk to him if he’s so quiet?” 

“If you ask him something, he’ll answer you,” the handsome blonde replied. “And don’t worry too much about signing. He can read lips, but just make sure you slow down with your words.” Though Worick knows you know sign language due to your father being deaf since you were an infant. He can tell you’re still hesitant to say yes and folds his hands into a prayer.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he begs. “The guy has NEVER been on a Valentine’s Day date before and his last girlfriend was a fucking bitch who dumped him because he was deaf. All she wanted was his massive dick…sorry.”

He apologized when he saw your reaction. You didn’t need to know that his childhood friend has a big dick! ….Though you are curious to know just how big. “He needs someone kind, considerate, and sweet. You fit the bill! Just give him a chance, please?” 

Before you agreed, Worick told you all about Nico’s ex, happy to do so when you asked. Apparently, she was the daughter of a rich family that he and Worick were in charge of guarding for a couple of months. She and Nico grew closer, had a sexual relationship, and Nico caught feelings while she didn’t, claiming it was because she didn’t want to date someone deaf due to it being “too much work”. You felt bad for Nico, especially when hearing how much it hurt him. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” you sighed at Worick’s pleading stare. He clapped his big, calloused hands and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Love you too, sweetie,” he chuckled. “I’ll fill you in on the details later this week.” 

He instructed you to meet Nico at an underground jazz club that Nico particularly likes for its seclusion and because no one bothers him too much in there. You dressed in a simple cocktail dress, flats and a cardigan to keep warm in the chill. Combined with your styled hair and soft makeup, you think you look pretty. You hope this “Nico" person thinks so too. When you look down the street among the other stores and taverns, you see a man walking up the road and you immediately know that your date has arrived. 

He is big. Huge! The man is nothing but bulky muscle hidden beneath his black tee, baggy jeans, and leather jacket standing at six-foot-something. He towers over you as he gets closer, so much so that you have to look up at him to actually look at his face. You can see why he's so intimidating.

Other than his height and build, Nico carries himself with a roughness and a confidence that is unshakeable and undeniable. It’s scary…yet also thrilling. Kinda sexy too. 

Under the soft glow of the street lamps, you get a good look at his features: he has a soft tan to his skin, thick, soft-looking lips, and eyes a deep, dark chocolate that you can get lost in forever. Silver dog tags hang from his thick neck that has your blood going hot and slight scars and bruises that you can see on his knuckles. You wonder, briefly, how he got them. He’s very, very handsome.

Realizing he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you clear your throat. “Uh….hi!” you greet, giving him a wave. He nods, barely cracking a smile. “You’re Nico?” you sign with your hands and verbally ask. “I’m Y/N, Worick’s friend.” 

Nico shakes your hand and you notice how big, warm, and calloused his palm is. It makes your pussy tingle embarrassingly so. “The teacher, right?” he signs with those thick fingers. “He told me you teach little kids.” You nod, smiling proudly at your occupation. “Yes, pre-K,” you giggle. “They’re adorable, but a handful.” 

There is an awkwardness between you, mostly because Nico is such a silent guy. He also keeps that stoic scowl on his face, so you don’t really know what he’s thinking. “So what do you do?” you curiously ask. “Worick never filled me in on that. He just said you do ‘business’ together as Handymen.” At this, Nico cracks a crooked smirk. “Something like that,” he signs. That intrigues you a bit. 

“Do you wanna go inside?” you ask, nodding at the door. “We’ll freeze before we get a chance to get to know each other more.” You give a small laugh to which he only nods, making you feel like a fish out of water. He opens the door for you, surprising you, and nods you into the warm club.

“Thank you,” you whisper, catching his intoxicating scent of cologne and lavender soap as you walk in. A bit of cigarette smoke clings to his clothes too, but it doesn't bother you much. The club is small yet cozy and dimly lit for a more intimate feel. Many people are at the bar or on the dance floor near the small stage where a band plays, the sounds of piano and cello mingling in the air. 

After getting your drinks from the bar (you get a cocktail while Nico picks a beer), you pick a table near the window and Nico pulls out a chair for you. You flush bashfully at his actions, not taking him for such a sweet guy. “Such a gentleman,” you laugh as he pushes you in and takes a seat across from you. “Worick didn’t tell me that. He said you’re very quiet though.” He shrugs his broad shoulders in his jacket. “Just don’t got much to say,” he signs. 

You nod as you shed your coat, revealing your naked shoulders and dress to him. You try not to be intimidated by his unwavering gaze. “That’s okay,” you sign and say. “We can talk about whatever you want.” The corners of his mouth quirk upward. “You sign really well,” he praises you. You smile proudly and bashfully, glad to have impressed him. “My dad is deaf and taught me how to sign since I was young.” 

His smirk turns more dry and almost forced as he signs to you: “So me being deaf doesn’t turn you off?” he jokes.

You immediately remember his ex and feel your stomach fall. “Not at all,” you sweetly answer. “Though I don’t like beer drinkers.” You wrinkle your nose at Nico’s drink. He raises an eyebrow, confused at your distaste. “It makes kisses taste like beer.” You lean forward a bit, giving him a secretive, flirtatious smile. “I like my kisses sweet.” 

Your eyes tick down to his lips and he notices. But he barely reacts. If anything, he looks disinterested and your heart sinks. “Was that too much?” you ask worriedly. Did you go too far? Are you misreading this? 

Before you can babble an apology, he stops you. “You asked what I do for work with Worick,” he signs. You nod, your heart thumping madly in your chest. He takes a deep breath before signing again. “We do almost everything, but I do dirty work,” he tells you. “I used to be a mercenary, but…I’ve still got human blood on my hands.” He pauses, watching for your reaction. That explains the marks on his fists. ”Does that bother you?” he asks, apprehension in his brown eyes. Before you can respond, someone knocks into the table, nearly toppling it over. 

You squeak, grabbing your drink before it can topple over while Nico straightens the table. “Oh, my God, are you alright?” you gasp, immediately helping the guy onto his feet. He turns to you, all crooked teeth and bloodshot eyes. “Now I am,” he drunkenly chortles at the sight of you. “Damn, darlin’, you’ve got a body on you! You wanna dance?” You immediately step back, warning bells going off in your head. “U-Uh, no, sorry. I’m here with–“ 

The man turns to Nico who has been staring daggers at the drunk the whole time. “Him?” he cackles. “That fuckin’ cockhead? You can get someone better than that, darlin’. Someone who can take care of this bo–“ 

The drunk cuts himself off with a whine of pain as Nico grips his hand so hard that he cracks the drunk’s knuckle bones. Unbeknownst to you, the drunk tried to touch your behind and Nico wasn’t having that. Doesn’t he know who he’s fucking with? You gape at your date as he steps between you and the drunk, a hulking mountain, and gets deep in the drunk’s grill.

And then he opens his mouth: “Back up,” he warns, his voice deeper and raspier than you pictured it though loud due to his hearing. “Unless you want your head in this table, I suggest you leave her alone. She’s with me.” 

He then releases the drunk who scampers away, clutching his hand to his chest. Nico composes himself and turns to you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “Sorry,” he signs. You don’t say anything and he is so sure that he fucked this up. Now you see who he is. Now you see that he’s just a Twilight. A mercenary. A no good– 

“Nico?” you softly ask. His hurtful thoughts take the back burner when you step to him, looking up at him with those precious, brown eyes. “Do you want to dance?” you ask, signing the words to him. 

He blinks at you, so sure that you're scared of him. When in reality, you're just trying to push the nasty thoughts of him kissing you silly and fucking you up against the table with that big, sexy body and massive dick out of your mind.

Him defending you but still being a complete, gentle giant to you is getting you going completely, but it’s still the first date. You want him to open up and maybe a slow dance can do that for you. “Not much of a dancer,” he signs, looking sheepish. 

You smile and offer your hands to which he takes. “I’ll show you how,” you giggle, pulling him along onto the dance floor filled with slow-dancing pairs. A soft, slow tune with a seductive saxophone and piano plays as you stand eye to eye. You place one hand on his shoulder as you interact your fingers with his with the other. Slowly, you begin to sway to the music, beginning to melt within the music and each other. 

And when lean your head onto his shoulder, finally feeling at peace, Nico comes to feel that this is where you belong: with him, in his arms. 

KEISUKE BAJI (TOKYO REVENGERS)

*Disclaimer: Baji is aged up (over the age of 18) in this drabble! 

“You’re the worst blind date I’ve ever had,” you very boldly and irritatingly tell the annoyingly sexy man sitting across from you. 

The attractive man with the long, wavy black hair, sharp eyes the color of milk chocolate, and a sharp, canine smile looks across from you at the table littered with remnants of your Italian dinner. Baji is his name apparently, a close friend of Mikey’s and one of his gang members. You never understood that gang shit, but they never give you problems.

If anything, Mikey’s gang ‘Toman’, protects you and makes sure you go about your days without any bother. “I’m guessin’ you’ve been on many blind dates before me?” Baji suggests as he chews on his pasta. “Huh. That’s a shocker.” 

You sharply squint at him, catching onto that shade. “Why is that so shocking?” you ask, digging your nails into the table with how irked you are. You can’t believe Mikey set you up with him. It’s been 25 minutes into the date and so far, each conversation was an argument and shot after shot.

Your personalities clash horribly, not to mention every woman in the place has their eyes on him. And he knows it! Not to mention that he’s an extremely messy eater (which led your mind to other places), he is way too into himself, and he has no idea how to act in a classy setting like an Italian restaurant. 

He’s a wild. He’s argumentative and hot-headed. He’s a rugged, tough-as-nails, roughneck dude…and he’s turning you on.  

Baji leans back against his chair, widening his legs in a way that makes you want to scream. Why the fuck does he have to be so goddamn fine but such an asshole? Is God punishing you? “Well, bein’ the fact that you’re the very definition of ‘a stick in the mud’,” he explains, “and a tighter than a drum, I can hardly believe how any guy sat across from you at a table. At least you’re pretty.” He goes back to eating his pasta like he didn’t just insult you. 

“Excuse me?” you hiss, feeling your blood boil. Thank God for your dress or else, you’re sure you’d boil over from the anger you feel. “And I can’t imagine how any self-respecting woman can sit with a lowlife, cocky, smart ass narc like you. And unlike me, your looks do nothing to take away any of that.” Baji’s thick, black eyebrows raise at the shot you took. “And you’re snarky,” he chuckles. “Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for snarky girls.” 

He uses his sinful tongue to lick a bit of sauce from his bottom lip. You catch a glint of metal on his tongue as he does and you realize that he has a tongue piercing. ‘Fuck,’ you think, clenching your thighs beneath the table and gripping the hem of your dress. You lean your hand against the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on. “I can’t believe I said yes to this shit,” you sigh into your hand. “Fuck the $50. I’m gonna have to tell Mikey that–“ 

“Mikey?” Baji cut in, pausing from eating. “Mikey put you up to this?” His brown eyes widen in shock and you feel a spark of joy at shutting him up. “Yes,” you proudly say, venom in your tone, “he did. And you know why? It’s because no other girl wants to date you. You’re unromantic, you’re a slob, you’re always looking for an argument, and you seem to push every single guy’s buttons in here.” 

He stares at you for a moment, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and then he begins to laugh so loud that the others in the restaurant look at him. You hide behind your hand, embarrassed. “Oh, shit!” he cackles. “I swear, that motherfucker is desperate to find me somebody.” You nod, pushing your dinner to the side. “Agreed. Why he ever thought I would be a perfect match for you is beyond me.” 

Baji looks at you now, an unreadable expression on his face as his smile fades. “Maybe it’s because you’re such a fuckin’ brat,” he replies though his tone is different. You stare at him in disbelief, scowling. Did he really just say that? Deadass? 

Baji smirks at your reaction. “You heard me: B-R-A-T. You’re a brat and fortunately for you, baby girl, I’m just the guy to handle a chick like you.” He leans in toward you, folding his ringed knuckles beneath his chin. “Someone who doesn’t shut the fuck up or know her place.” 

“Know her place?!” you snap, earning the attention of the restaurant. He barely reacts, though his smile grows and a strange twinkle appear in his eyes. “You know what? Fuck this and fuck you. Why you even have an ex-girlfriend is beyond me if this is how you talk to them.” You stand up in your pretty, body-hugging dress and grab your coat. “I’m leaving,” you huff, snatching the coat on. “Have a good Valentine’s Day, dickhead.” 

Without another word or waiting for him to respond or even stop you, you leave the restaurant and step out into the cold February night. You barely get down the street before you hear your name being called. You turn, seeing Baji jogging towards you, those black locks flowing in the wind. “Y/N!” he calls in his deep ass voice. “Hold up, wait!” You don’t know why you stop, but you do, putting a hand on your hip. You glare at him and pout those plump lips when he finally stops in front of you. “You left your dessert.” 

He presents a small brown box to you and opens it to reveal a small chocolate fudge cake with chocolate mousse on the inside and Godiva flakes coating the top. “I didn’t order any dessert,” you say in a tight voice. He smirks down at you, standing several heads taller than you. “I know; that’s why I ordered ya one. C’mon, you don’t like chocolate cake?” You look back down at the cake and close it before he hands it to you. “What, is this an apology?” you snort. “Sorry, man, but you’re gonna have to try much harder than–“ 

“You’re wonderin’ why I have an ex, right?” he interrupts you. You pause, confused, but he just smiles mischievously at you. “I have an ex, and many of them, because I’m an asshole, unfortunately. Force of habit.” He shrugs, but actually looks guilty for it. “But I’ve had many girlfriends because I know how to tame them.” 

His smile is flirtier now, creating more of that sexual tension that you felt at dinner. You still stare at him, speechless, and he figures that you’re clueless about what he means. “I put it down,” he explains. "Give good dick. Knock their boots. Am I makin’ any sense here?”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the thoughts running in your head of just how good he is in the bedroom. “I know what you mean,” you snap. “So why the fuck are you tellin’ me this?” 

Baji smiles at you, his canines glowing at you as if they are illuminated by a light within them. They thrill you and bring a ferocious and needy part out of you that you didn’t know was even there. He takes a step toward you, getting closer, until you can reach up and kiss him if you want to.

“Because I know you’re attracted to me,” he murmurs matter-of-factly. “What, you think I can’t see it? The way you squeezed your thighs tight together at the table. The way you kept starin’ dead at my hands. The way you’d get so lost in thought as if daydreaming about somethin’ else way more exciting.” 

You flush embarrassingly, more at your behavior than the fact that Baji noticed it. You can’t help how attracted you are to him. But Baji doesn’t want you to be embarrassed or ashamed. He wants you to want him the same he wants you.

“Lucky for you, mama,” he purrs, the pet name making your pussy jump, especially with his voice, "I’m just as whipped for you, especially in that dress.” His fingers lightly glide down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sorry about tonight, but I can show how sorry I am in other ways if you want me to.” 

You can tell he genuinely means it and isn’t just trying to get in your pants, but even so, you still scowl up at him, your jaw set and eyes narrow. “And why do you think I’ll say yes?” you question. He just chuckles, still flashing you that sharp, sexy smile. “Because you know I’m the only one who can handle that bratty ass of yours.” 

He then turns and waves a hand. You don’t know what for until a taxi suddenly glides over to the curb and stops. Baji walks to the backdoor and opens it before looking back at you expectantly, his eyes molten with lust.

“Now get in the fuckin’ car, Y/N.” You know you shouldn’t get in the car and go anywhere with him, but you can’t deny how much he makes your pussy throb. So against your better judgment, you crawl into the backseat of the cab and tell the driver your address. 

Hours later after being stripped out of your dress, shown extensive foreplay, and having your pussy eaten like Baji hasn’t had anything to eat in decades, you find yourself being fucked against the wall with your arms and legs wrapped tight around the long-haired, tattooed man who holds you against him as he pummels his thick, hard cock into your tight, wet pussy again and again. The bedroom is filled with the sound of your mixed moans and skin slapping against skin as he pistons his hips into you, making you see stars. 

It doesn’t take long for your pussy to start quivering around his cock, squelching and dripping the more he fucks it. You’ve never been fucked like this in your life and you’re able to hold back anymore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Baji!” you practically scream. “Can’t…can’t take it! I’m gonna cum!” 

Baji shakes his head, gripping your hair with one hand while he hikes you up onto his waist with the other, showing you how lightweight you are to him. “Uh-uh, bratty girl,” he huffs. “Not yet, mama. I need to feel more of this pretty pussy flutterin’ around me.”

He thrusts harder, faster, drawing whines and sobs out of you. You begin to claw at his back where a large tattoo dedicated to Toman is inked into his back muscles. “You cum when I say, understand?” he growls into your ear. 

You weakly nod, willing to do anything he says if that means you can cum. “Now shut the fuck up, and take this dick.” You do so, stopping your protests as he fucks you stupid until you cream all over his cock while he fills you up to the brim…but of course, you only do it when he says so. You find that you love doing what he tells you to. 

When everything is said and done, you both crumble to your bedroom floor and Baji pecks your cheek. “Best blind date ever, right?” he chuckles.

BENIMARU SHINON (FIRE FORCE)

*Note: Reader is Goth! 

“God, kill me,” you sigh, standing in front of the theater doors. “Why did I agree to do this? He could be a serial killer or something!” 

You contemplate leaving, but you already promised your best friend that you’d go through with this stupid blind date on this stupid ass holiday. “Please just try and go along with it for tonight, Y/N!” she practically begged. “I promise he’s a nice guy! And I already told him you agreed! Just give it a chance and I promise you that I’ll never bother you about dating again.” 

You groaned, sitting across from her at a bar. “Fuck,” you sighed. “Fine. Can I least pick the movie?” Your friend eagerly nodded, so you purposely picked a romance/horror movie marathon showing that the theatre does every year for Valentine’s Day. The kind with blood n guts, gothic vampires, and slashers. Surprisingly, the guy still agreed to come much to your dismay and you had no choice but to come out. 

You know that your friend did this as a way to get you to start dating. You swear she thinks that one of these days that you’ll hang yourself from the shower rod with how lonely you are…and this has zero to do with you being goth. Though you love the color black, but you’re not depressed. You love dark makeup and rock music, but that’s what you love. You’ve always adored gothic fashion and the aesthetic, so that’s what you live. 

However, some people think it’s weird. Though Tokyo is full of eccentric and different type of fashion, goth isn’t particularly “popular” in your Black family or side of the city. And it certainly isn’t popular with the guys. You don’t care. You love yourself and you’re not about to change for anyone. So you dress in your finest black attire with a mini leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and boots that make you feel powerful and sexy. Your makeup is dark, your mascara is sharp, your nails are as long and sharp as claws, and chains drip from your leather jacket. 

You wonder what your date will be like. Apparently, he’s a well-regarded and respected officer in the Special Fire Force, among the strongest there is. But you don’t recognize him when he comes up the road from his side of the city. He is tall and has a lean build that is hidden behind a black sweater and baggy jeans. His locks of black hair hang in his face, but not enough to hide his different set of eyes: his right pupil is a red circle with one black dot in the middle while his iris is black; his left is red with a white X in the middle, reminding you of a game of tic, tac, toe. 

“Hey,” he greets easily. “You waitin’ for someone?” You scowl at him, crossing your ams over you chest. “Why are you asking?” you ask sharply. The stranger raises his big hands in defense, taking a step back. “I’m not trying you, I promise. I’m just wondering if you’re this Y/N that’s supposed to be waiting here for me.” 

You squint at him, cocking your head to the side to see him at a different angle. “Benimaru?” you question. “Huh. You don’t look how I thought at all.” He is handsome but not enough to knock you off your game. He quirks a small smirk and you have a feeling that this dude don’t smile often. “I hope that’s a good thing,” he wryly chuckles. “For the record, you’re not bad on the eyes either…if that’s what you meant.” 

You don’t acknowledge his compliment or react even though your stomach flips. You’re not used to anyone complimenting you on the account of your black lipstick and mascara. “So should we go in or stay out here to freeze to death?” you sarcastically ask. You huff and turn on your heel before Benimaru can even answer or follow you. 

He easily beats you to the door on his long legs and opens it for you, towering over you as he does. “Is sarcasm just natural for you?” he asks, dry humor in his voice as you step into the theater. You feel a pang of guilt at your behavior. It’s not his fault your friend orchestrated this. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I’ll admit, I’m not too hype about being here. Dating isn’t really my thing, but my friend insisted I come on this stupid blind date…no offense.” Benimaru barely blinks at you walk to the ticket counter. “None taken. My friend, Konro, swore I needed a Valentine’s Day date when the whole holiday isn’t even a holiday. It’s pure BS.” 

“Ugh, agreed,” you scoff, rolling your pretty, brown eyes ringed in mascara “It’s just a way for companies to continue to capitalize off of hopeless romantics and couples. Not to mention all of that pink.” 

Benimaru nearly misses that, too busy thinking about how pretty your eyes are. “I’m takin’ you don’t like pink?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. “Not that your clothes are a dead giveaway or anything.” His interestingly alluring eyes tick up and down your outfit, making you feel hot under all of the leather. “I just like black,” you laugh. “But don’t get me wrong; I wear other colors sometimes, but only on a minuscule level.” 

“Your friend said you were a gothic chick,” he chuckles, giving you a mischievous smirk. You send it right back as you take out the two tickets your friend sent you for the movie. “As gothic as they come,” you retort. Benimaru just hums in response, particularly liking you in that mini skirt and the way it swishes around your thighs. 

After buying the tickets, you two wander into the small waiting area where a bar, a cafe, and an arcade occupy the space. “So the movie starts in about fifteen minutes. Should we head in now?” Benimaru doesn’t answer at first, too busy staring at the arcade games. “Nah,” he replies, nodding at the flashing, noisy games. “We can kill some time in here.” He begins to walk over, expecting you to follow. “Your friend also said you’re shit at racing games,” he says with a smirk shot your way. 

“Not true!” you scoff, crossing your arms. He shrugs pausing in the threshold of the arcade to wait for you. You finally give in, taking off your jacket to reveal your black crop top. “Fine, but only if we got time for the shooting games too. I wanna kill some zombies.” Benimaru nods, secretly laughing to himself as you follow him into the arcade. 

You spend way more than fifteen minutes in that bitch, playing all the games you can. Benimaru is good at almost everything, playing each game with skill and precision. He lets you win most of the time, just liking to see you smile and laugh in pride when you win a racing game or beat him at ping pong. During the zombie game, you get overrun by the undead while holding your plastic machine gun and you feel him lightly touch your elbow to point the gun straight. His touch sends shivers all over you. You win the first half until you run out of time and Benimaru smirks at you. “I totally helped you with that,” he sniggers. 

You also play basketball, shooting them repeatedly through hoops. He always gets the farthest hoop and the highest points, winning every round. “You only won ‘cause you’re taller,” you huff, bumping your hip with his as you walk by. It gives him the perfect opportunity to watch your ass sway in that damn skirt, making him hard as a rock for you. 

As walk to get something to drink, you stop at one game in particular: the crane game. It holds dozens of little plushies that you’re obsessed with, including the little black plague doctor with its big eyes and fluffy beak. Benimaru smirks at you staring at the game, walking up beside you. “I saw you looking at this thing the whole time,” he says. "You couldn't have been any less discreet.” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, still staring at the plushie. He notices and pulls out his last arcade coin. “What, you want it?” You quickly shake your head, turning to leave. “We’re gonna miss the movie anyways, so–“ 

“Fuck it,” he carelessly interrupts, shocking you. “You obviously want that penguin, so I’ll get it for you.” 

You roll your eyes, sighing. “It’s not even a penguin; it’s a plague doctor Squishable. It ain’t a big deal for me to have it, Benimaru.” But your date just glares at you as he bends down to put the coin in the slot. “And it ain’t a big deal for me to get it for you,” he argues. “If we miss the movie, we’ll just go for food.” 

You are floored by his stubbornness and refusal to give up until he’s made you happy. How can that be? You only just met and yet here he is, using his last coin to try to get you a stupid plushie! You watch with bated breath as he plays the game, moving the crane slowly as he fixes his eyes on the plushie. Once he’s moved the crane right over the plushie, he hits a button, causing the crane to sink down into the sea of stuffed animals. The crane’s hooks latch onto the peak of the plushie and, slowly, he moves it over to the opening in the corner to release it.

The crane plays music and lights up in victory as the plushie rolls down the chute into Benimaru’s hand. He turns to you, an unreadable look on his face. “Here,” he says passively. “I figured goth girls didn’t like cute shit like this…but he is kinda creepy.” 

You take the plushie, just staring at it for a moment. All of the sudden, you feel weird. You feel tingly and butterflies flutter around in your stomach. That never happens, but it’s happening for this guy! “Thanks,” you softly, and very shyly, say. Benimaru shrugs like it isn’t anything to him, but it is to you. “Y’know, the movie marathon is gonna be showing another night too…” You trail off, looking down at your shoes to avoid seeing his eyes. 

“So you want another night with me?” he asks. Quickly, you turn on your heel and stomp out of the arcade, leaving him utterly confused. “What?” he calls after you, sounding genuinely baffled. “It was just a question!” 

A second night with him does happen two weeks later and you do see the midnight marathon, but neither of you pay any attention to the first move that plays. You’re too busy bouncing on your date’s thick, veiny cock in the darkness of the theater to watch the film, biting back your moans despite the seats being empty. Benimaru softly grunts and moans into your ear as your walls flex around him, his eyes transfixed on the way your ass jiggles as he lifts up your skirt. 

“Fuck, Beni!” you moan. “Y-You’re s-so fuckin’ big!” You grip his thighs with your long nails as his dick stretches you out in the best way, a delicious ache coming in your calves with the effort it takes to bounce on him. Benimaru stands up and bends you over the seat in front of you, beginning to fuck you from behind. He is fast and nails that single spot every time that makes you have to cover your mouth because you’re so loud. 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he coos into your ear as he continues to pound into you from behind. “You don’t want security comin’ to find us, do you? Or maybe you do, you little slut, fuckin’ your date in the movie theatre.” He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls, much to your enjoyment of being slutted out in the dark. Anyone could walk in and see you fucking right now. It’s so naughty. So sexy. 

The thrill of it must be getting to Benimaru too because he speeds up his thrusts, his balls slapping against your clit as his hand smacks against your ass, gripping it tight. “Shit, baby, you’re gonna make cum!” he groans, tossing his head back at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing around him. “Cum with me! Make that pretty fuckin’ pussy cum around my cock!” 

You quickly begin to rub you swollen clit in time with his thrusts and soon enough, you’re cumming all over his cock. “Fuck!” you scream into your hand as your orgasm tears through you. Benimaru cums too, filling you up with a long groan that he bites back as best as he can among the movie playing. He lets you come down from cloud nine before pulling out, letting his cum leak down your thighs. He turns you around, pumping his cock soaked in your juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Put it back in your mouth and taste yourself.” 

You get on your knees, panties at your ankles and leather skirt hiked up. Benimaru wastes no time thrusting into your mouth, using it as his very own fucktoy, as he watches your brown eyes ringed in mascara stare up at him eagerly. When he pulls away to cum again, your black lipstick stains his cock, marking him as yours.

“Fuck!” he gasps as he cums all over your pretty face, ruining your eye makeup. It is now but black smears down your cheeks as his nut drips all over your face and cheeks. 

“Poor baby,” he chuckles. “Your mascara’s runnin’. I bet you worked so hard on it.” He takes a napkin from your movie snacks and dabs away the cum. “So cute,” he sighs, marveling at how utterly adorable you look. You giggle, feeling deliriously good and cute, just as he says. 

Yeah. A third date is most definitely in the future for you now. 

[angel-of-the-moons]

Carry-Ons

Anselm Vogelweide x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Anselm being a shameless weirdo, sex toys, NSFW stuff, references to sex so not for kiddies!

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I blame @reallyrallyauthor for this asjlsnodn. I haven't seen the movie yet but from your writings plus the scene comps I've seen I got this stupid ass idea in my head I have to spit out. Feeling a bit under the weather because of a tummy bug but I'm hoping to get over it so we can still make the family trip.

💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰

When his private plane was down due to a recall on vital parts, Anselm was livid. He had planned on treating you to a nice rural trip for the two of you, where no distractions or "business" aims to worry about. Where--he hoped--the two of you would spend almost the whole two weeks fornicating like horny rabbits in springtime.

He was trying to find different methods of travel, even looking at private charters or possibly outright buying a new jet. He had the money to do it, of course.

But Anselm was completely flummoxed when you actually brought up the idea of flying on a public flight. Like a lowly... commoner!

"Oh, come on. It's cheaper, you don't have to do much..." You say, rolling your eyes as you clicked through flights on your laptop. "And it'd save a little bit of money, if you think about it."

Anselm huffed, licking the spoon free of ice cream (perhaps being a bit too messy with it, intentionally) and rolled his eyes right back. "Money is hardly a concern for me, my love."

"C'mon! It could be fun." You try, grinning and batting your eyelashes at him.

He shot you a skeptical look.

Yeah, he wasn't gonna budge on this, was he?

Well, it's a good thing you know how to talk and twist Anselm to bend how you want him. Both figuratively and literally.

You slowly slide your laptop off of your lap and stand from the expensive leather chaise, sauntering over to his desk and perching your ass firmly on the edge, scooting over until your legs bracketed his torso, your feet planted on either side of his hips and pushing into the cushioning.

Almost immediately, a hungry glare overtakes him, his eyes behind his glasses becoming dark and stormy as he quirked a thick brow.

You pull the handkerchief from the pocket of his suit and wipe his messy beard, tutting playfully. "Honestly, Anselm, you eat like a messy toddler, sometimes."

"Oh... I thought you liked it when I ate messy?" He crooned, tilting his head as your fingers brush through his beard. "Especially if how much you writhe and soak my beard with that sweet little cunt of yours is anything to go by..."

You scoff and chuckle, rolling your eyes at him as you flick him in the chest with the handkerchief. "You know what I mean."

"Hmm, yes." He purred, his hands immediately going to your inner thighs, his thumbs teasing the edges of your stockings, hiking your skirt up to playfully pluck at your garter straps.

Anselm's eyes immediately went between your legs, his tongue running along the seam of his lips as he stared at your crotch.

"Ah-ah." You say, fingers gripping his chin to force him to look at you.

"You're no fun, sometimes, darling." Anselm pouts, his brows furrowing. "Such a tease."

"Will you consider booking a flight, then?" You ask once more.

He frowns further. "No."

You pout in return, your fingers snagging the curls of his beard as you consider another approach.

"Well..." You purr, relinquishing your grip on his beard to grip at his messy salt and pepper curls, tugging his head down so you could look down on him further.

His eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens in a low, breathy sound as you continue.

"How about this... When we book the plane, when we get to the cabin..." You tug him up so you can brush the scars over his left ear with your lips, '...you can do whatever you want to me. Or vice versa."

The moan that comes from him is damn near pornographic, and he viciously licks his lips to moisten them.

"Yes. But we only fly first class." He rattles off, his breath hitching.

Got 'im.

You grin mischievously and hum, "Good boy, Anselm." You begin to turn to get off of his large, ornate desk to return to your laptop and book a flight.

His hands seize your thighs again, and he growls up at you.

"Where do you think you're going?" He rasps, his hands yanking your panties down and pushing your skirt up further.

His thumbs part your folds and once more he licks his lips like a hungry dog.

"If I'm to suffer the embarrassment of flying public... I demand some up front compensation."

💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰💰

Of course Anselm had booked all of the first class seats just so the two of you wouldn't have to sit around other people. It was such an Anselm thing to do.

You had to deal with him loudly complaining of the pitiful lounge you were able to wait in, swatting him on the leg when he would get rude with a random person.

However, watching him deal with a woman who was harassing the staff of the airport over a simple problem with a simple fix was funny. The woman was clearly intoxicated while he began to lay into her.

"Honestly, my dear. Could you make it any more plain that your parents are brother and sister?" He'd said, his tone neutral, the drawl of his native tongue heavy with each word uttered, much to the woman's shock (and the staff's amusement).

"You are obviously wading in the shallow end of your gene pool, judging by how misplaced your teeth seem to be. Your brain must not be developed properly either because you cannot grasp the simple solution to your problem." He clicked his tongue and you had to hide your mouth behind your hand to cover up the laugh that was trying to bubble free as the woman tried to flounder.

Anselm didn't let up.

"Did your mother-aunt drink whilst pregnant with you? Surely you're suffering from fetal alcohol syndrome, or some kind of mental deficiency in a similar regard. Even your excuse for an "accent" makes you sound inbred and ignorant. You--"

The inebriated woman immediately began to bawl as she fled for the bathroom, her heavy mascara running down her face as Anselm slapped a wad of bills into the hand of the poor young worker, shoo'ing them off.

"Split it amongst yourselves. Honestly, I would have shot the bitch and called it a day." He dismissed, walking with you to the bag checking area, his leg brace squeaking almost as loud as you began to cackle.

"I only punish the staff that deserve it, my love." Anselm said, kissing your cheek. "That woman was a filthy creature who needed to be told such things. Honestly, that poor child looked ready to crumble from that woman's verbal abuse."

You grin at him, your matching suitcases wheeling behind you as you pulled them. It was only fair after basically bullying Anselm into booking a public flight.

Honestly now it was more an experiment to see how he would act--to "loosen the leash" a bit on him, you might say--in a "low-budget" public setting such as this. You didn't regret it one bit.

You let the security crew help you hoist your suitcases up and slide them across the metal table, Anselm looking frankly bored already at the tedium. Checking his oxygen tank was rather simple--even if you had suspicions that it didn't contain "oxygen" at all--and it passed through quickly without much examination.

The x-ray beeps softly as the first suitcase is scanned--and the guards frown with concern as they pull it out to check it.

"People are like that everywhere if you're unlucky." You say as the second guard unzips the first suitcase. "Hopefully we won't have any more--"

Your voice goes silent as the top to the suitcase flops open, and placed nice and neat atop the folded laundry...

...was a rather large, ornate, custom dildo and a cushioned leather harness.

The guard slowly creeps his wide eyes up to you as his coworker turns to cough, his face reddening as he tried to hold in his laughter.

"Uh, ma'am--" The one holding the case stuttered.

"That's not my suitcase." You say.

You and the two guards stare at each other, blinking owlishly until all three of you slowly turn to look at Anselm, who was leaning on his cane, a bored but also slightly amused smirk on his face as he watched the debacle.

"...What?" He asked innocently, quirking an eyebrow at the lot of you. "I kept my luggage within acceptable weight limits."

"Uh... I don't... Uh, I'm not sure--" The guard turned to look at his coworker for help, his eyes wide and pleading for help, his cheeks flushed with color.

"I-Is there a protocol for... for--"

"Gah, will I not be able to bring it?" Anselm frowns deeply, an irritated tone slipping into his voice. "I had it custom made, you know. I'd hoped we could make use of it."

He clicked his tongue and shrugged boredly, "Either on the plane or at our destination, I don't care which..."

You pinch the bridge of your nose and curse, trying not to smile and laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Of course the shithead would pull a stunt like this.

The guards looked like a strange cocktail of amused, confused, worried, and aghast at the thoughts running through their heads.

"Uh... I don't... I don't think you can bring that on the flight. For... for security.... reasons..." The younger guard stammered out, awkwardly adjusting his collar with his finger.

Anselm sighs and rolls his eyes, waving his hand. "Fine, fine, you can keep it. I suppose I'll have to check what kind of stores I can order from while we're at our destination."

"Anselm!" You hiss, a grin on your face despite your mortification as the poor guard--in view of cameras and other people no less!--hoists the hefty glass dildo out of the suitcase and sets it in a separate container off to the side, coughing nervously as he checks the rest of your things.

As you boarded the flight, your suitcases being loaded and your carry-on bag thoroughly inspected--you elbowed Anselm.

"What the hell was that?!" You whisper-shout.

Anselm grinned at you, much like a hungry shark.

"Why my dear... If I must suffer the embarrassment of flying public... you deserve a little embarrassment yourself."

[theyluvlyss]

"...𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐭, '𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞'..."

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

no real summary, just some loose thoughts I have, per the request😙.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x finney blake - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s (🤷🏽‍♀️) - the grabber doesn't exist - finney's dad isn't a p.o.s.😃

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

FLUFFFF - I think I cussed just a little😆🤏🏽 - finney being the best boyfriend you'll ever have in your life - short/small mentions of bruises/scars - me getting carried away

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

It's true, they did. Not that either you or Finney could deny such a claim because that's exactly what it felt like. What it was. Innocent, blissful, doting puppy love.

Who's "they", you ask?

Well, literally everyone. Your parent(s), his father and sister, your friends, his friends, other peers/classmates... hell, even the strangers that looked at you two long enough, observing, could tell- No, feel the love radiating from you two at what seemed like all times.

Which you found surprising, seeing as you two were under the impression that your relationship was kept rather private to the naked eye, but I'll get to that in a second.

Even before you two had made it official, the mutual crush was painfully obvious to any and everyone around. It was in the way your eyes would find their way over to him whenever he walked into the classroom, worry filling them to the brim should he adorn any bruises and/or scars from any bullies of his.

The way he'd fidget whenever you were in his line of sight, biting his thumb at his desk if you sat close enough to him or clicking that space-themed pen over and over again when you breezed by him in the halls.

God forbid you said hi to him when you did. Poor thing would just melt, remember he had to respond back, and then go, "H-...hi...!" when you were already long gone😭.

And oh my god, you'd better believe Gwen and Robin were getting an earful, damn near every topic of conversation somehow circling back to you. Vice versa for Donna, knowing it was no use trying to pry any other subject from that brain of yours because it was all muddled with "Finney this..." and "Finney that..."

So yeah, though elated when you two finally became an item, nobody was shocked. Not even a little.

But anyhow, dating Finney is so sweet, and quiet, and peaceful (if that makes sense). It's just very loving and calming, with LOTS of a reassuring being done between the both of you. I feel as though Finney is just a naturally semi-anxious person but he also masks really well, so for the first while of your relationship, you spent it gently poking and prodding away, letting him know he could trust you fully with any and everything.

It's lots of sweet touches - hand holding, you rubbing his shoulders/back/arms often, him moving hair from out of your face or shooing away small bugs/dust from your person, face cupping - little things that bring about butterflies, even if it's been months (maybe even years) into the relationship😭.

AND THE KISSESSSSJFJEKDO omg- (sorry I just💀🥴-) He's such a huge fan of little pecks, I mean, sure... an actual KISS-kiss or a makeout sesh is fun-cool-awesome whatever, but bro actually forgets how to breathe for a second when you randomly peck him on the cheek or lips. The biggest grin in the whole world just spawns on his face if you bound up to him and the first thing you do is, "Hey, Finn!" and give him a lil' kiss right there on his nose.

And forehead kisses are something sooo special to him. He gives those out left and right, yes he does😌. There's something about them that just makes him feel like he's cherishing you and that he's just pouring all of his love and adoration into you, y'know? Plus, he loves the way you'll watch him carefully each time, too. Like, not saying he's the biggest fan of being watched at all, but in this instance, he doesn't mind and actually wants you to see/prepare for that special kiss he's delivering.

Which, speaking of, he's not fond of PDA. If anything, the most he can tolerate is hand-holding and just a short/small peck when you greet each other. But anything more, he's pretty inclined to reserve it for when you two are alone. Or at most, amongst well-known/close friends/family. Although, he won't shy/pull away if you want to hold his hand under the table/desk. And he won't move away if your legs or shoulders are touching if you two are doing/working on something together.

Cuddling/hugging? Bed and/or couch activity only, and can not - I repeat - CAN NOT be interrupted, or he'll be so salty about it. Again, it's a very special thing for him, getting to hold you, feel you, hear your heartbeat (or vice versa if you're laying on his chest). He gets to just sit and admire you, whether it be in comfortable silence or if you two are quietly talking, using this time to memorize each and every single feature on your face over and over again (hoping you're doing the same for him). So yeah, Gwen waltzing right on in without knocking, or your parent calling you two down for dinner definitely kills that vibe for him.

You might giggle at the way he goes, "mncht..." and rolls his eyes, but baby, he ain't laughing at all💀.

Hell, even you two talking with each other is pretty intimate and soft. He's never once raised his voice at you (even if he's upset), is always asking your opinions/thoughts on things and what the vibe is before moving forward, and the only time you've ever spoken over each other is when you guys are hyperfixating on a common topic and are getting really excited.

WHICH ‼️‼️ omg if you're an astrology girly, lord knows this boy... You got him, he's hooked, he's never leaving you alone. Fate - sealed. While yes, he's an astroNOMY guy, which is more science-based and leans towards a more logical outlook, he loves that with you/astroLOGY comes this inate belief and spiritual outlook. He LOVES that you've attached meanings to the stars and space-stuff that he already really fucks with. Like, star signs and shit? He might not fully understand it (will definitely strive to, though), but oh my god, he practically foams at the mouth when you start listing them off, giving definitions, pointing out the connections between yours and his, etcetc.

And on the flipside, he loves that you let him pop off about whatever he's got in the tank. Black holes, other planets outside our solar system, the possibility of extraterrestrial life, rockets,,, whatever he's spitting, you're all ears without even a shred of judgment.

Plus, like I mentioned, there's a lot of healthy communication/checking in between the both of you. Lots of, "Are you okay?" "How are you feeling?" "Did you eat today?" "What'cha thinking about?" "I'll call you later today/tonight, okay?" type of stuff, along with the silly, all over the place topics and the long, "today was shit" rants, of course.

To try and sum it up/ball up the millions of other things I have running through my mind (I'm trying not to make this longer than it needs to be💀✋🏽), he's basically a huge sucker for the love between you two. Loves that you listen and loves listening to you, loves knowing that you're there (especially physically, like, again, not a huge fan of PDA but really, truly can't get enough of your touches and calming rubs and cute little pokes/boops soooo😗... *cut to Finney wayyy too eager to get to either yours or his house so he can shut his brain off and cuddle with you*). He loves loving you and being with you, like...

AUGHFHSJH and he LOVES making you happy, finding every and any new way to impress you. He likes taking you to go get snacks from the Grab'n'Go; I'm talking the second this man gets a LITTLE bit of change from who knows where, the first thing on his mind is, "What should I get (Y/N)?" Or taking you along with Robin to the drive in when they go see movies, or to the diner to get milkshakes...

In all honesty, anything - spending time with you outside of school - is a date to him. Y'all could walk circles around a small ass park fifty-million times, and he'll drop you off at home like, "I had fun today. Thank you for letting me take you out :)♡." Like what a sweetie😭.

But if it's an "actual" date you're craving, he'll come up with and spend hours prepping little makeshift ideas that he'll enlist Gwen to help him with. Some of his best have been stargazing (with all of the stops, of course - snacks, drinks, books to read and flashlights, blankets and pillows, etcetc.), library dates where you guys spend nearly the whole day skimming through each and every section to look for new interests and topics, 👹CRAFTING!!!👹...

Finney is a craft king, argue with the wall😐.

Point is,,, Finney Blake loves you to the moon and back, and is still in mild shock that you feel the same way (y'all could be married with twins, a dog, and two cats and bro will wake up next to you in the morning like, "...She loves me🥹🩵??"), and if allotted, I'd go on forever and ever.

But I won't😻!

If asked one of these days, though, I would totally be down for writing general headcannons about all of the boys +Donna and Gwen +Max and other adults and characters that aren't canon but might as well be canon in my head because I have SO many thoughts😃...😀...*eye twitches*...

soyeahanywaysBYE👋🏽✨️.

𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬...

for both the long wait and the fact that I went a little crazy at the end, but it's fine xD🩷. I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope it satisfies. I feel like there's some parts where I fell off a little bit and then got back into the groove, but yeah...

good news is, I can only improve from here, so don't be shy to request more :)!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

anon

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

1,563

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[amazeingartist]

ghostsoap fusion idea, pre-relationship

(potential errors oops/brought over from twitter)

soap and ghost are in ghost’s room chilling, bone dead tired with soap unwillingly to leave and ghost unwillingly to kick him out due to a close call, that ends with them squished together on ghost’s bed and they drift off in the comfort of each other’s presence and warmth.

they wake up confused as to why there’s only one body in the bed, sitting up call out to the other only to hear a unknown yet familiar voice. they get up to search the room only to notice how… strange, everything is. they stop to call out for the other again only to hear themselves respond.

they dart to ghost’s bathroom only to see themselves in the reflection but also not quite; brown and blue splotched eyes stared back, taking in the slightly lighter shade of tanned skin, scars that should be foreign on their bodies now sat upon the same skin, short hair that peaked towards the middle of their scalp—the blend of the colour making it impossible to tell if it was still brown or not—and the face. the face was almost uncanny with how familiar it looked. the features of john mactavish and simon riley perfectly melded into one; simon’s high cheekbones yet with john’s chin, the thickness of john’s eyebrows only tamed by the thinness of simon’s, it all balanced out.

that strange feeling they had was the result of john’s and simon’s combined consciousness, apart of the same inner monologue that they—whoever that is now—just intrinsically knew which thought stemmed from what half.

it was freaky as fuck and they would’ve properly lost it if only they could just decide on how to freak out.

nervously pace the room talking themselves into a spiral, or stand in the middle of the room near catatonic, in saying that by attempting to sort through what response to follow it they ended up comforting themselves out of it.

ghost, soap, fucking whoever stood as them, stayed there with their eyes closed controlling their breath and grounding themselves by focusing on their surroundings. now calmer, but just as confused, they took stock over everything. the mission, their routine, everything.

neither had be exposed to strange chemicals and it all felt too real to be a dream. they talked to themselves, quickly deciding it was weird to refer to themselves as two people when they felt like one. yes, thoughts had tinges of ghost and soap to them, like everything did but they were unified as was their person.

plus it felt… good to identify as a single entity, so much so that it’d begun to settle the anxiety. ghost and soap were just the foundations; identity crisis d handled for now, they moved onto a formulating a plan

forgoing the need for a new name happy to answer to either call signs, they changed into whatever laid about, it didn’t matter what they picked everything seemed to be just a bit too big or too small, and headed straight for price’s office.

they wore one of ghost’s balaclava to hide their new face, which only mildly irritated with what small amount of scruff they had, didn’t help though as seem everything about them now brought attention—makes sense, if ghost and soap had been fused together it would only stand to reason that their body language would too. they’d figure out their new perceived demeanour later however as they knocked on price’s door.

lucky the old man was in his office early despite being just as drained by the previous weeks of work. they greeted price as they entered and immediately price stilled, confusion apparent as he attempted to understand out of ghost and soap who he was currently speaking to. another no brainer, their accents had blended too and as it would turn out depending on emphasis it would lean one way or the other.

It took a bit but after having removed the mask price believed them. the captain spoke honestly about needing time to figure out where to even begin in dealing with this predicament, he agreed that they should keep responding to ghost’s and soap’s call signs as long as it felt comfortable, but shared how it also felt wrong to only refer to them by their halfs. mac-riley was the closest to decent name either party came up with and would act as a placeholder name in the meantime.

end :D

(also any open to suggestions for a ghoap fusion name)

(edit: this is only sorta inspired by su, there’s no gem shenanigans happening here just regular shenanigans. both ghost and soap are humans (I think) in this)

[yanderepuck]

Ikevamp au where everything is the same except the suitor falls in love with you, but you hate them.

Imagine. An otome game, but you constantly turn down the guy.

Napoleons route: what makes you think I want to be your body guard?

You: what makes you think I want to be near a panty sniffer?

Napoleons route later: wait... I think I'm in love with her

You: why won't he leave me alone.

Wait why is this actually hilarious

Mozart's route: no one likes you and no one wants you here.

You: what makes you think I want to spend my time with a man who meowed at people?

Mozart's route later: so I actually really like your company

You: I've never enjoyed being around you for a moment after you called me a nuisance.

How would you expect me to fall in love with either of these two after they both tell me they want nothing to do with me. Please explain

Leonardo's route: I'm going to drag you around the city and have you help me with things

You: please just let me be depressed in the mansion

Leonardo's route later: I've really been enjoying our time together

You: please just let me be depressed in the mansion.

Just let her do her thing. She wants to go back home with no strings attached. Make sure she doesn't try to kill herself but please don't drag her along against her will.

Arthur's route: you're a pretty little thing

You: touch me and I will scream and bite you myself. Never speak to me. Don't even perceive me.

Arthur's route later: so it all started when I was a wee lad

You: didn't I tell you to stop acknowledging me? I'm not interested in your trauma. I didn't even know who wrote Sherlock until I got here

Let be real. Most of us didn't actually know. We knew Sherlock didn't write Sherlock but we didn't know it was some crazy fairy man.

Vincent's route: you're really sweet and I think we should be friends

You: yes. Friends is nice. You seem very nice

Vincent's route later: so..I..um...I want to be more than friends.

You: learn how to have a negative emotion and stop acting like being sad is a bad thing.

The boy is honestly toxic. He's going to invalidate your negative emotions I feel it.

Theo's route: hondje! You saw my scar and so now you're going to work for me!

You: shouldn't I be the one trying to blackmail you??

Theo's route later: you're actually a really good worker and have a good eye for art. I like you hondje

You: so you like capitalism? Am I even getting paid? I didn't travel through a door just to run around the city and sell art work

I'll never understand how it makes sense that Theo thinks he can make her do things bc he assumes she noticed some random ass scar. WHAT'S WRONG WITH EVERYTHING LEARNING YOU GOT SHOT. YOU DIDN'T COME FROM THE FUTURE. THEY CAN TECHNICALLY LOOK UP HOW YOU DIED.

Why did I have a hard time coming up with one for Isaac. Ik that boy is problematic but why am I having issues

Isaac's route: HOW DONT YOU KNOW ABOUT *insert very complicated scientific theory*

You: I went to public school my dude. Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell

Isaac's route later: she's very kind and patient. Is this what love feels like??

You: IF HE COULD SHUT UP ABOUT HIS WORK FOR 5 SECONDS THAT WOULD BE GREAT

I know once I post this I'll think of a better one for Isaac. But oh well. Boy needs to let you talk about your day.

Dazai's route: you're so cute. I'm going to adopt you as my little sister

You: you're a little weird... But I guess this is okay

Dazai's route later: so I really like you, but I need to push you away and act like I don't care because it's what's best

You: I have been here for two weeks and you've tried to kill yourself 4 times. How did you think I could mentally handle that let alone want to date you, PLUS YOU KEEP CALLING ME YOUR LITTLE SISTER

He sibling zones you up until the very end. What kind of Alabama kink do you got going on, Dazai

Jean's route: I'm not sorry that I bit you. Don't talk to me, I don't want friends. No one understands me anyway.

You: if Comte doesn't beat your ass for biting me then I'll do it myself.

Jean's route later: I think I'm learning what love is. She's helped me with so much and I want to repay her

You: he bit me and never apologized or got in trouble. Why the hell would I ever be interested in him. He's treating life like a SURVIVAL GAME

I have many complaints about Jean. But my main one is the biting and him never getting in trouble for it bc he's the favorite child.

Will's route: you found and read my note book and now I have to keep an eye on you so you don't tell anyone that I'm using this information against them to possibly get them killed!

You: sooo...you aren't writing all of this because you have bad social skills and are just trying to better understand everyone because they are all from a vastly different time period than you? Thanks for telling me your plan.

Will's route later: so I've realized the error of my ways and I'm not going to do the deed any more and I hope you can forgive me

You: LET ME OUT OF THIS DAMN VILLA

Will became a little too obsessed. Oops

Comte's route: it is my fault that you are here, so I will protect you and take care of all your needs while you are here. You'll be the daughter I never had

You: thanks! I'll work around the mansion to pass the time and get to know everyone better

Comte's route later: I know I have pushed you away multiple times but I really love you and I want to spend centuries with you

You: I have seen how bad of a parent you are and I've picked up your dirty clothes off the floor I don't think this is going to work

Comte just keeps daughter zoning you and then is like "so I love you" IS THIS WHERE DAZAI GETS IT FROM.

Sebastian's route: every time you do something wrong I'm going to flick your forehead

You: do that one more time and I swear to God I'm slapping that grin off your face

Sebastian's route later: being with you is making me miss home and consider going back to our time. I would love to go back with you and spend our lives together back in Japan

You: there's so many reasons why this wouldn't work out and staying at the top: YOU TOOK SOME RANDOM PILLS SOME PRIEST GAVE YOU. Not to mention you didn't tell ANYONE you were dying

If you're gonna fall in love with me at least tell me you're going to die in a few months.

Also not going to do the trio in this moment. Oops sorry

[lawomi]

Transmasc!Trafalgar Law & Straw Hats

Fun little writing exercise about Law coming out to the Straw Hats. Minor hints at LawSan, LawLu, ZoLaw, ZoSan.

Cw: 🔞 Mature topics, trans coming out scene, fluff, humor, bicurious Sanji, mastectomy scars, mentions of phalloplasty, Law is okay having a vulva, masc terms for parts.

Law is spending time with the Straw Hats at a bath house. He keeps his waist covered all the time, which leads different directions. Was it shyness? Was it some hidden tattoo? The guys devolve into comparing dicks. Law refuses to show them anything. The Straw Hats reveal just how accepting their crew can be.

Law sat on one of the stools to use the shower head. The bathhouse was noisy. The water splashed as Luffy jumped in; Zoro yelling at him for spraying water everywhere ending in a silly splash fight. Jinbe, Franky and Brook sat against some of the rocks to the back in relaxation, Sanji was busy trying to peak at the women without going over the wall and Usopp was sitting near Law, showering himself.

Law, unlike the rest, was wearing a towel around his waist even as he sat facing away and running water thru his hair. He seemed relaxed despite all the noise, though his face still held that classic scowl. Usopp glanced at him curiously as Law took to washing his privates, but maintained the towel so Usopp couldn't see.

"Say, Torao" Usopp spoke up, "Are you shy around us?"

He could see Law's eyes widen, his cheeks flush, and then Usopp received a glare. "What?"

Usopp scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously, "Sorry, weird question. None of us are wearing towels so..."

Law rolled his eyes and shrugged. "I'm not a Straw Hat. Plus, is it a crime to not want to show your genitalia to people? Tsk, people are obsessed with that."

Having heard the conversation, Sanji walked over. "Hm, that is a weird question, Usopp."

"YOU'RE THE WEIRDO IN HERE," Usopp raised an arm to gesture towards the wall where he had just been trying to peep.

"I am curious, though," Sanji ignored him. "Do you have tattoos on your inner thighs or something?"

Law pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sure."

"Really?!" Luffy called from the water. He hung out at the edge, leaning towards Law. "I wanna see, Torao!"

Law groaned, "No! Mugiwara-ya, you can't."

Luffy whined, pouting with furrowed brows. Zoro waded over to him. "I bet he's just embarrassed about his dick size," he nudged Luffy. Law could hear the shit eating grin on his face without turning around.

Law took in a sharp breath, trying to relax his heart. He didn't want to have to talk to them about this. Luckily, Sanji was already on Zoro's case, since it reminded him that Zoro always boasts about his dick almost exclusively to make Sanji angry (or...something).

Brook had gotten out of the water and sat near Law, washing off his bones. "Well, I don't have a penis, yohohoho!"

Somehow, that made Law feel better.

"Yes, what does it matter?" Jinbe was now sitting on Law's left. "It depends entirely on your genetics, your race, your size."

"Yeow!" Franky grinned, "And I can change mine to be bigger," he half-joked.

Jinbe laughed at Franky's remark, "Well I have two of them!"

"TWO?" Sanji and Zoro had stopped in surprise and Luffy's eyes sparkled. "That's crazy!" Luffy laughed.

Law was smiling. He liked that the men casually defended him. Should he just up and say it now? Did it matter?

"I'm transgender," he finally said, his voice slightly wavering from nerves, "Are you all satisfied, now?"

"Ohhh!" Luffy got out of the water and walked over, to Law's horror. "So you're like Yamabro! Or... Okiku? You're a woman?"

"No, first answer was correct, I'm a man."

"Yeah, either way, that's no big deal," Luffy beamed, "Yamabro bathed with us!"

Jinbe smiled at Law, "We appreciate your willingness to open up to us; I'm glad you can trust us. Yes, we see no problem in that."

"Heh. Torao!" Zoro called over, "I definitely have a bigger dick than you!"

A very rare genuine grin spread across Law's face. Somehow, Zoro had enough empathy to know treating him any different was what would be upsetting.

"Me, too!" Sanji copied him. He was blushing slightly though, as if he was thinking about something.

Law shrugged, he stood and dropped his towel. Usopp and Sanji were the only ones to have a shocked reaction, Sanji's nose even trickled a bit of blood. Law froze up as he realized that everyone was actually scanning, not looking to his vulva per say, but for tattoos.

"I don't have any more tattoos!" He barked. "Just let it go."

Luffy came closer and observed, making Law blush, while most of the men continued what they were doing casually.

"So, that's your dick, huh?" Usopp pointed out, having come close, too. Sanji was still staring, he looked very conflicted. Franky also leaned in with interest.

Law sighed and tried to go into doctor mode now. "Yeah, with testosterone the clit increases in size. I think I'm two inches."

"But," Franky glanced up at his chest, "You did your chest right? What stopped you from changing the bottom?"

"I feel indifferent to it," Law said simply, "I don't want to change it." He jolted as Luffy gently touched the scars on his chest. "Hey! Too close."

Luffy backed up, grinning. "Sorry... Your tattoos are just so cool, I never noticed the scars there."

Law was blushing furiously now, feeling his dick peak thru his folds. He twirled around and used the shower head again. "Thanks for accepting me," he sounded honestly grateful, but was also trying to finish the convo.

Luffy sat beside him to the right, showering himself off too. Law tried (tried) to ignore him. Sanji was still staring at Law's back, but was snapped out of it by Zoro who began to make fun of him. "Into men now, Swirly?"

"No!" Sanji chided.

"It wouldn't be a big deal!" Zoro snapped back. Hell, he was into men. If Sanji weren't so fucking straight maybe he'd ask him ou--

"Absolutely not," Sanji rolled his eyes, "I'm just into certain parts. Doesn't mean I like men."

"It does if the parts are men's parts," Zoro sneered. Sanji was dumbfounded at this comment. Shock befell Zoro to see Sanji go into pensive mode instead of growing angry. Sanji pinched his chin, diverting his eyes to the ground.

"Tsk," Zoro rolled his eyes. "Well, technically if you viewed Yamato as a woman and view those part as female- gross - then you're straight. Quit worrying so much, no need to be fragile."

Sanji sighed. "You're right. I know Yamato is just as much a man as Law. I just... have to sort through my thoughts."

[echantedtoon]

Love Is Blind Ch3 Not What It Seems

(WARNINGS: Mentioning of death, Mentioning of someone taking their own life, Kagaya being sick and having scars, and mentioning of him being burnt in a fire.

pic of Y/n above was edited by me. IMPORTANT THO!! This is NOT what Y/n looks like except for the white hair. I just wanted to make one of these picture edits for fun. Art not mine, found on Pinterest, credit to original artist, etc. The wisteria gate pic isn't mine either and was found on Google. If you need visuals on the wysteria gate and the garden they look exactly like the links below only that Kagaya's garden has WAY more flowers than cannon.

Wysteria gate

Kagaya's garden

https://www.ign.com/wikis/demon-slayer-the-hinokami-chronicles/Chapter_3_-_Death_Match_in_Asakusa )

CLIP. CLOP. CLIP. CLOP. CLIP. CLOP.

The sounds of a beautiful black stallion's hooves walked across the old dirt paths leading down the land and through the forests. Of course having walked along this road so many times, the mighty horse was already familiar with roads. A snort escaped from his snout before he shook his mane out from an itch.

"Easy boy. Just ignore the beast and keep going."

The driver of a sturdy cart ordered the horse giving a firm and hard slap of the reigns making the stallion snort once again but got it to ignore the fox that scurried across the road in front of it. The sly red canine stopped in the treeline and looked at them before turning away to quickly scurry into the forest.

"Pretty thing. If I brought my crossbow I could've gotten a good pelt for a muff."

"Let's leave it alone, Papa." A head of white hair shined in the sunlight as f/c eyes looked at where the pretty fox disappeared. "Something as beautiful as that deserves to live free."

The older man smiled at his daughter's beauty and kindness. "I agree. That's why we're going there. You deserve to have such freedom without someone trying to stubbornly take that away from you."

You turned to him smiling widely and sweetly at him. "I'm sure everything will be fine, Papa. It's just a small visit to clear up a misunderstanding. That's all."

Your father hummed again before whipping the reigns to make the stallion trot faster. "Your mother nearly ripped me a new one when we suggested this idea. I'm still surprised that I managed to convince her to let you come-"

"I heard that!" Your mother glared at him as he chuckled before crossing her arms. "I only agreed to it on the basis that we all go with her! There's absolutely no way I'm allowing my daughter to visit these strangers all by herself! Plus I'd like to give these Ubuyashikis a piece of my mind!"

"Now, Dear." Your father gave your mother a rare stern look. "Remember what we talked about. We're going to be polite AND civil about this. If there is a reason for stern talking then I'll let you know but unless that happens I WILL do the negotiations."

His wife huffed before crossing her arms with a pout. "Fine! But we're leaving at the first sign of trouble!"

You only shook your head from the back of the cart before leaning back against the wooded side and looked out as you all passed a beautiful field of flowers. It had been nearly two weeks of this kind of travel and during the entire time it had been beautiful and peaceful aside from your mother's occasional angry spouts but otherwise pleasant. In truth getting her to agree to your idea hadn't been easy as he DEMANDED you not go anywhere near the Ubuyashiki estate but in a rare stern tone your father had put his foot town.

"Our daughter is going to be twenty next year! She won't be a teenager anymore besides she's already a grown woman. Not a child. If she decides to go see this family then we can't stop her. I'm going with her anyways so there won't be any danger. There will be no more arguments."

Your mother had no choice but to agree but insisted on coming. Not wanting another argument your father agreed but only on the conditions that she wouldn't have any arguments when there. With all these things settled, your mother had gotten your older cousin to house sit while your entire family was gone and your father had talked his boss into giving him this extra route again as an excuse to make this detour. Now here you three were traveling through places you've never been before. This was both exciting and nerve-racking to say the least. The sun was high in the sky as the beautiful trees waved in the wind and the scent of wild flowers filled the cooking breeze. It made you smile and stretch your arms out. Even if you don't marry, the beautiful sights was making this trip all the worthwhile. Your father mentioned that the pathway to the estate was closer now and you should be there by tomorrow hopefully. 

The sun slowly went across the beautiful skies. Your eyes watching safely from the back of the cart until they felt heavy, and closed against their will before the moon could bless them with her presence.

 Purple

The overarching flowers outstretched their petals looming overhead as arms getting ready to embrace the people below in their soft petals falling down from above as shining gifts from the heavenly tops of the trees. It was a blessed sight to wake up to once F/c orbs awoken hearing a gasp of another woman wake up and then a voice speak.

"It's so beautiful. I feel like we're approaching heaven."

It was like heaven. Staring up at nothing but beautiful wisteria blooms hanging down from the air as leaves blocked out most of the rest of the light but still patches of that beautiful sun flowed down in small splotches peeling through the trees and their heavenly flowers like shy mice. The aroma of the flowers filling this forest right out of a fairytale and the small animals running amongst the flora only added to that heavenly fairytale image. You spotted a mother deer and her two young fawns chewing on the delicate buds of the new spring grass. The beautiful mother looked briefly at the cart passing by before turning away to put attention on her children. A flurry of sparrows passed by the trees and f/c eyes smiled up following them.

"This is absolutely beautiful. It's like something out of a dream."

"This is part of the Ubuyashiki territory." Your father gestured all around the woods smiling. "All of this? They own every tree in it. In fact they own a huge chunk of this mountain. I heard it's been in the family for the past ninety five generations."

"That certainly is...a lot of territory to own." Your mother hummed with a deep thoughtful expression on her face.

"A lot of territory? Honey, these people own the entire town just on the other side of the estate! I go past it just to get to the city. If you don't know better, you'd mistake the big town for the city."

"Oh really?... That's a lot of revenue."

The cart still pulled past the forest down an old path as you looked around in awe. Everything looked so beautiful and birds were singing in the spring air. So heavenly. Unbeknownst to you and your mother, your father had continued traveling through the night turning his horse onto an almost hidden path leading deep into mountain forest and when you both had awakened, you had woken up to the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen.

"We're not too far away now. We didn't give them any notice we'd be coming so they'll certainly be surprised."

"Hmph. We're making the effort to come all the way out here so the least they can do is be grateful that we actually came here to answer them!"

Your father didn't comment on your mother's tone but did also the reigns making the horse pick up his pace trotting down the old pathway. Deeper and deeper and deeper into the forest you all went. The more wysteria trees clustered around until they seemed to be the only trees in the forest. Down the pathway farther and farther until they reached a small semi clearing at the end of the pathway. The driver had the horse turn around in the clearing and started back up the path you came before pulling it back to a full stop next to a small tree with the horse facing back the way you came. Without uttering a word your father got up and jumped from the wagon, taking a minute to tie the reigns around one of the trees branches to keep the stallion from wondering off before giving the horse a few pats. 

"We're here," he said turning back to you before looking past you making you blink and turn to see what he was looking at.

Another pathway lead from the original path leading away from you and towards the right side of the original path. But instead of dirt, this one was made of cobblestone and cut brick. A flight of stairs lead from the path up the hill and stopped to continue on in a normal pathway again starting under a giant wooden archway. Wysteria petals decorated the old stairs like some makeshift nature carpet and more scattered with the wind. You stared at it before a thud made you turn your head just as your father set your mother down from helping her out of the cart. You slowly stood up as he also reached out to you 

"Maybe you two should stay with the cart and let me handle this." He gently grabbed your sides before heaving you up and out of the cart before placing you down on the ground. "I'm sure I can handle it from here."

"No. I came all the way here to see him and if I don't show up they'll just send me another letter wanting to hear from me. We might as well go and clear everything up now." Your nodded firmly nodded in agreement.

Your father sighed before reaching in the back of the wagon and pulling out a small box the size of three regular books across and five inches high. He tucked it under one arm before turning towards the stairs. "Alright then. Let's go settle this. Just both of you stay close to me. And remember..." He gave your mother a firm look. "I WILL do the talking."

Your footsteps echoed throughout the peaceful forest as the three of you climbed up the stairs towards the wooden archway above. Your father carrying the box under his arm and your mother holding onto his other arm looking around while you followed right after them. You stared up in awe as you all climbed up higher and higher until you all passed under the arch. Your head followed it by as you all passed it on the way through before looking ahead and following your parents down the old cobblestone path. The wysteria trees on both sides were stretched out as far as the eye could see. Beautiful purple flowers everywhere swaying in the breeze and the pleasant fragrance wafting in the air. Your mother was also in awe staring around her.

"This is incredible."

Your father chuckled. "Wait until you see the mansion. Mr. Ubuyashiki is actually very pleasant."

Your mother turned to her husband. "You've already met our daughter's supposed soulmate?"

"No but I met his father. He was rather old. In fact he was old enough to be my grandfather."

"If he's that old then how old is his son?! If he's some pervert-"

"Dear, we are not going to talk bad about someone when we haven't even met him yet-"

SHING-

You squealed out as all of a sudden there was a metallic sound, a flash of shining silver, and then the cold steel of a sword was right in front of your father's face. Your mother shrieked clinging closer to her husband on instinct. The three of you froze as a cold blade was held out to your father's next. Your previous shrieks scaring birds away from you.

"Who the fuck are you people?!" 

You timidly peeked around your father's shoulder and looked past him only to pause seeing the man on the other side. It was a man around your age with short untamed white hair but what struck fear into you was the dark small pupils in his feral eyes and the fact that his body was littered in scars. When none of you answered he snarled and pushed the blade closer to the man's neck. 

"Are you all deaf?! Answer me!"

"Sanemi, that is not a nice way to treat people!" A much louder voice boomed out from behind you making you squeak again and whirl around to yet another man's torso with his arms crossed. You looked up at his face and paused seeing a head of flaming red hair and just as vibrant fire like eyes. You were stunned at...how absolutely handsome this stranger was as he tilted his head at you. "Especially woman. Now why don't you lower your blade?"

The white haired man narrowed his eyes staring at the frozen middle aged man in front of him. Before glancing at your frightened mother and your frozen form behind her. "...Tch." The large blade was lowered from your father's neck but not put away as the angry scarred man stared them down. "That still doesn't excuse them from trespassing here!"

"INDEED!!" The man with flaming hair agreed loudly causing you to wince at the loud volume. "As much as I don't like my friends violent methods, I agree that you shouldn't be trespassing here! I will have to kindly ask you all to leave!"

"We're supposed to be here." Your father somehow stayed calm throughout this entire thing to his credit. The box shuffled under his arm. "I'm delivering this."

Again the white haired man looked suspicious glancing between him and the box. "Yeah? And what's in it?"

"Herbs and medicine."

"AH!! Then this must be the delivery Oyakata-sama was expecting! EXCELLENT!!" You again winced at the red head's loud voice booming out.

"Oh really? Why is there three of you then? It doesn't take three people to delivery one puny package! Gimme that dam box!"

Your father made no move to stop the man from yanking the box away from his arm. No one made a move as he placed his blade under his arm and harshly tore off the lip to poke his head inside..... before he slowly placed the lid back on the box wordlessly.

"What was in the box?"

Mr. White hair ignored his college before shoving the box back into your father's arms. "Why are three of you delivering herbs instead of just one of you?" Despite his embarrassment he still demanded answers to his questions but lost that angry edge to his tone. 

"The master of this estate asked us to come here." Your father calmly said. "I thought it'd be best to see what he wants."

And again that suspicious look was back. "Why would Oyakata-sama ask to see you lot?"

"It wasn't this Oyakata-sama whomever he is. We were invited by Kotoya Ubuyashiki."

"AH!! THE MASTER'S FATHER!!" Mr. Red Head nodded in understanding. "That clears up things then! He probably has invited them here! For what purpose I am unsure however but we should take them to him!"

Mr. White Hair looked at you all before FINALLY slowly putting his blade away. "What would he want with two women and a delivery man?"

"LET'S FIND OUT!!" You jumped as Mr. Red Head quickly pointed his arm down the path again. "Please follow us! I'll show you the way there!" He looked back to your still staring face. "Miss??"

You still stared for about six more seconds until your brain finally registered he was asking for your name. "AH! I-I'm Y/n!" You gave a small bow in greeting before pausing...and slowly looked back up to him. He was rather handsome and..not bad looking. You leaned back up. Could it be-? "Are you.. Kagaya Ubuyashiki?" 

The man paused, blinked, before throwing his head back and giving a few hearty laughs that had you blushing. 

"PFFT!! HIM?! HA! That's a good one!" Behind you his college also began to laugh making you feel more embarrassed.

His locks swayed as he shook his head eventually his loud laughs devolving into amused chuckles. "I'm flattered you would give me the honor of mistaking me for that title, but I'm afraid you're just that. Mistaken. I am Kyojuro Rengoku, a guard for my Master's estate."

You blinked at him before turning to the now smugly amused white haired man who now had his arms crossed. Now looking at him...He was also quite handsome. Albeit in a more warrior rugged type of way but still fairly handsome. As if sensing your question he just shook his head.

"You're looking at the wrong person."

"This is SANEMI!! Don't let his scary attitude fool you! He's actually a very nice person! If you're here to see the Master's family then follow us. His home is just up ahead."

You were kinda disappointed this handsome man wasn't who you were looking for but at least you were in the right place. It was kinda awkward because Sanemi just turned and started walking away from you all with your parents following and you and Mr. Kyojuro following up behind them both. There was about an hour of silent, awkward walking as you turned your attention to the wysteria trees.

"My apologies for startling you all!" You again jumped and whirled around to Rengoku who smiled warmly. "But when we saw many people in a strange wagon we had to see what your intentions were!"

You didn't even see them coming in? Where did they even come from? Instead you shook your head. "I-Its alright. I would've been suspicious too if a bunch of strangers showed up to my house." You tried giving him a smile. "So..You work for the Ubuyashikis?"

He nodded. "Yes! For a few years now! I guard the estate for my Master!"

"You mean Mr. Kagaya?"

"INDEED!"

That peeked your interest a bit. Perhaps you can get some insight on this mysterious man. "Oh, I see. What's his family like?"

"Oyakata-sama's father is a very good man! I've known him for many years!"

"Oh that's so nice. And...what is Mr. Kagaya like?"

"The Master is the most honorable man that's ever lived!" His smile got even wider. "He's very compassionate and wise beyond his years. You'll never find another man like him even if you tried."

Your eyes widened with each word he spoke. Honorable? Compassionate? Wise? Those were traits that you used to spend countless hours everyday wishing your soulmate had until you decided to focus on yourself and your work. Could it really be everything you needed? Could the gods have sent you the perfect person?

"Is he as handsome as you?"

That caught him off guard as he blinked again before again giving a few loud hearty laughs. But it was a legitimate question from you. You wanted to know what he looked like. What he did. Who he was. What made up Kagaya Ubuyashiki.

"My dear lady, you flatter me!" He gave a few more chuckles but nodded. "But I would say that the Master is rather handsome in his own way!"

"How old is he?", your mother suddenly asked tossing him a suspicious look at Rengoku.

"Mother!"

Kyojuro held up a hand. "It's alright. I actually don't know his specific age. Never asked! But I do know he's actually around my age!"

Oh. So that meant he was actually around your age too! That answer actually seemed to satisfy your mother and she huffed turning back around. At least it did not start an argument.

"You all seem very interested in the Master!"

"We're here to visit his family so it's understandable to ask about someone I'll be meeting." You thought about something for a moment before looking back to him. "You mentioned before that he's the Master of this estate. What does he do for work?" 

"The Ubuyashiki's have ran this land for generations! The whole town on the other side of the estate is essentially owned by them! But specifically Oyakaya-sama funds a rather large and successful school! I am also a teacher there when Im not asked to fill in for the usual guards here!"

"A school?" You had a small school back home you attended before studying under the local herbalist but you were surprised to hear a school being very successful.

He nodded. "He wants every child to have an education! My brother attends with his friends! I'm happy to give him a head start in life!"

"Wow. That's a lot of responsibility for him to take on."

"He's a very honorable and responsible man as I've stated before!"

Responsible. That's also what you wanted. Could this really be the one?

You all continued to walk to walk through this wysteria woods. Eventually you all walked over a cobblestone bridge leading over a small stream and continued to walk until you turned a corner blocked by a tree, and nearly ran into your mother as you looked up and let your jaw drop at what you saw.

THE BIGGEST MANSION YOU HAD EVER SEEN WAS SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU ALL!!

It had to be the largest building you'd ever seen in both space and height! The old but nicely maintained building loomed over head covered in many purple petals from the surrounding wysteria trees. In the very front of the house was a very beautiful small clearing edged with small cut shrubs and the cobblestone path continued up to stop at the front steps of the manor. Eventually you all snapped out of your stupor to continue up the path and to the stairs. The first man, Sanemi, was the first one to reach the door before opening it and looking at you all. 

"I'm gonna let them know these people are here. Stay with them and make sure they don't try anything!"

"DON'T WORRY!! I'll be fine!"

Sanemi rolled his eyes but left you all awkwardly standing in the doorway and hallway. You watched him walk down the long very clean corridor before he disappeared around the corner and then looked around the tiny hallway as Rengoku just...stood there keeping an eye on you all. Eventually your mother poked your father's side.

"Where does this lead?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I only came this far before delivering the previous order and leaving. I never saw the rest of this place."

That was helpful. You sighed and decided to look around the hall more to occupy time. The wooden floor was polished and well kept. Two paintings hung on the walls. One was a boat on the ocean and the other was too far away from you to see but you thought maybe it was a vase of roses?? A small table sat randomly near the corner where Sanemi disappeared and on top of it was a random decorative vase. And then there was the old man coming towards you-

....You blinked.

A little old man about your mother's height and grandmother's age came shuffling quickly down the hallway and smiled at you all. Behind him Sanemi boredly walked behind him with his hands behind his head. 

"At last!" He said in a happy but slightly raspy way. "At last! At last! AT LAST YOU'RE HERE!!"

His arms extended out towards you all as if to embrace you three. It wasn't until he was past the closest painting to you that you realized that..It was directed AT YOU. He was smoking AT YOU. He was holding his arms out TO YOU. And he was coming straight TO YOU!! You had barely registered this fact before suddenly arms were being thrown around you making you freeze as arms pulled you in for a tight hug. Your mother bristled and immediately looked ready to physically yank this stranger off of you.

"I was waiting for you for so long!" He pulled away from you to smile softly and it was only now that you realized that..his little old man was crying. Fat tears rollef down his crinkled face as he smiled widely, happily, softly. "Y-Y-You have no idea about how long we've been waiting for you! To find you finally before the unthinkable happens!" Huh? What did he mean by that? You blinked as his hands cupped your face. "And look at how beautiful you are! Such hair.. It's a rare color I've only seen one other person have!"

You supposed he was referring to Sanemi but- "I'm sorry but..Who are you?"

"Yes. WHO are you?," your mother narrowed her eyes with a frown at him. 

"Oh. Yes, yes. We haven't met yet." He quickly rubbed at his face but never lost his excited smile. "I am Kotoya Ubuyashiki." He gave as quick a bow as his old body could give before looking at you again. "I'm so glad you've finally decided to come! We've been waiting for so long!"

"*AHEM!*" Your father cleared his throat loudly gaining your the older man's attention to him. "Perhaps we're starting off on the wrong person. I'm Y/n's father."

"Oh yes! Mr. L/n, I remember you!," he happily greeted turning to your parents with a big smile, "You look well! And this must be your wife!" He smiled at your deadpanned mother. "I apologize for all the trouble I caused but I'm so happy you're all here! I've been trying to find my grandson's soulmate for so long. I feared he'd forever be alone once I passed away."

"Grandson?," your mother instantly looked suspicious at him. "I was told he was your son!"

He nodded. "He's that too. Won't you please come in?" He gestured down the hall towards the rest of the house. "Everything can be explained and we can discuss things."

"That is fine." Your father nodded. "But we can't stay long. My horse is down the hill-"

"Of course, of course. Rengoku please go bring the man's horse some food and water while we conduct business. Cone, come. I'm sure we have much to discuss."

You weren't too sure about this but your father wordlessly followed the smiling man and you reluctantly followed your parents leaving the first two men behind. Mr. Kotoya continued happily chatting despite your father's silence and your mother's scowling. Eventually turning a corner and pointing at random objects or rooms explaining what they were or where they came from until eventually he stopped in front of one room and smiled turning at you specifically.

"This is the indoor garden."

"Indoor garden?"

Kotoya nodded. "We grow plants inside when my grandson is unable to go outside or can't move around too much." Confusion graced your face again. Unable to go outside and move around? Did he mean when it was winter or raining really badly?? "The Library and study is just down the hall across from the dining room."

"That's...very nice but we should get back onto the topic we came back to discuss." Your father firmly looked at him and rose a brow. "We came here to discuss my daughter's involvement in all this and if you don't mind, I'd rather get this over with as soon as possible."

Kotoya eagerly nodded. "But of course. I think the sooner the wedding is the better. It'll take a little bit to throw things together but if you want it to be fast, I can have it all together in as little as a week!"

"I'm not here to discuss any weddings." Your father placed a free hand on his hip. "Ever since last October you've been harassing my family especially my daughter to marry someone she hasn't even met once, you've drove my wife insane, and you haven't taken a hint to our obvious nos!" Mr. Kotoya blinked loosing his smile as your father stood firm and your mother looked proud at her husband. "Now, Sir. I don't take too kindly to people who try and harass my little girl like this. I'm not going to agree with anything especially forcing her to marry someone. Now you better tell me why you're bothering my daughter with this or we're leaving this instant."

There was silence as both men continued to stare down one another bit your father's calm but stern gaze never wavered. Eventually Mr. Kotoya sighed and reached out to brush some of his long white hair from his old face. 

"My apologies...I guess I was just desperate for both our children to reunite and allow to have some happiness in his life after so much misfortune. He deserves to be happy for once."

"That still does not explain your actions. My family deserves an explanation for all this madness."

Again Kotoya sighed. "You're right. You're right. That's the least I could do for causing you all so much trouble. You see ..Ever since he was fifteen years old and your daughter's name appeared on his hands, I knew we had to find you. You see my grandson has always had a hard hand in life, when he was only four years old his mother passed away from an accident and my son couldn't handle the grief of living without my daughter-in-law, handling my grandson's conditions, and running the entire estate. Unfortunately he took his own life later that same year." Wait..What did he say about his grandson? "Ever since then I've adopted Kagaya and ran the estate until he was old enough to handle it."

"And you thought that sending letters constantly and asking us to force our daughter into an arranged marriage would be the best way to make him happy?" Your father's brow rose more. "You didn't even seem concerned about my girl's wants. What does your grandson have to say about this?" He looked around raising a brow more. "Actually...Where is this young man? I want to see him. I want to talk to him too."

At this Kotoya lit back up and smiled hopefully. "You mean Kagaya? Would you like to see him?"

Your father nodded instantly. "Yes! I think we'd all like to meet him and see what he's like. Where is he?"

Kotoya smiled wider at him. "He's in the back garden today. He wasn't feeling too good but insisted that some fresh air would be what he needed." He gestured for you all to follow him. "Come. I'll show you the way there."

He motioned for you all to follow him before slowly you all did again. Walking down through halls and past more people. Servants you supposed by the work they were doing. Most glanced at you all in surprise or curiosity as you passed but didn't say anything and just went back to work. Eventually Mr. Kotoya stopped and looked at both of you all with a smile before gesturing to a sliding door beside him. 

"This leads outside to our back garden. My grandson is currently meditating there. He's unaware you're here but I'm sure he'll be very happy to meet you finally."

At first no one spoke. No one interacted. No one did anything. Kotoya continued to smile widely as your parents looked at one another silently unsure of what to say or do. F/c eyes turned to look at the simple wooden door and just stared silently at it. Your soulmate was behind that good. The person who the gods had decided that would be your husband when you were fifteen. He was there. Probably waiting for you. What was he like? Was he really everything that you ever wanted? Was he really handsome? Would he be everything you needed? Would you love him? The questions swirled about in your mind...and there was only way to find out. Without saying a word you reached out and grabbed the door slowly. So slowly your parents didn't even notice until you slowly pulled it back startling them both. You all paused at the beautiful sight before you all.

Sunlight shown down from the sky, illuminating what must've been hundreds of flowers blooming in a variety of colors and types all around. Their roots hugged by perfectly cut bright green grass. A full river ran right in the middle of the entire length of it only separated from the grass by cleverly placed rocks and a beautiful wooden bridge to step across it. The beautiful waters rippled and sparkled with sunlight hiding the majestic koi fish living underneath. A few small trees had stationed themselves up amongst the flowers along with a single big bird bath that was already occupied by a few...crows? You paused watching the shiny black birds. They cawed at one another in-between taking dios in the bath. 

Why were there crows here? They just seemed so...out of place amongst all the other bright and colorful surroundings. F/c eyes lingered on them a little longer before looking to the left and finding something much more out of place than the crows. A bench. And on that bench was seated a person. You couldn't tell if it was a man or woman because they had their back to you. 

... Unconsciously, your feet moved towards them.

The figure remained still. Unmoving as the birds sang and the wind blew. Shiny ebony shoulder length hair swayed with the wind as it rolled by. The slightly swaying of a haori coat also slightly swayed but not as much. Slowly a hand raised, and reached out to a nearby small rose bush and stayed there. A slightly shaking hand brushing so gently against the red petals. The hand jumping slightly as a fluttering little butterfly decided to say hello in greeting. You found yourself almost blank minded as you stopped just two yards away from the person. Despite the fact that your footsteps were completely silent, the head slightly turned to your figure, but not enough to show any facial features.

"Can you tell me what colors this beautiful creature is?" The hand raised up slowly to not jostle the small butterfly resting on his index finger.

Your body flinched at the voice. It was obviously a male voice and it was so.. smooth. So soft. So gentle sounding. It almost made you jump as you continued to blink at this now confirmed man. There was silence again as he didn't say anything else. Your blank mind slowly processing the question as you slowly looked from his head to his raised hand and the butterfly lazily moving it's wings.

"...The top part of the wings are pure white with black on the edges while the bottom of the wings are completely yellow," you slowly said a bit confused about why he'd ask you to describe it's colors when it was clearly right in front of him.

"Ah. An Orange Migrant." The hand slowly brought it closer to his face before it took off into the air again. "One of nature's beautiful children." It circled it's head before deciding to land on the bench a few feet away from him. His head turned back forward, a smile to his lips that you didn't see. "They're all so delicate and fragile yet they're bodies are so strong to withstand so much change. They're quite inspiring little ones."

Your head tilted at him for a moment. "Are you.. Kagaya Ubuyashiki?"

A smooth chuckle that had you blushing escaped the man in front of you before he nodded without turning around. "I am."

That got your heart beating what felt like a million miles a minute, heat rising to your cheeks. This was it! This was actually him! Your soulmate! The one who's name was once carved onto your palms. He was right here in front of you and now your body felt like any moment it would combust under the pressure.

"Your voice sounds new. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting."

"I-..I-It's b-because we haven't." You cleared your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. "I-..M-My name is Y/n."

"Y/n?" His gentle voice questioned as if trying the name out and it had you getting more red. Hands gripped together. "Hm. You wouldn't be Y/n L/n by chance would you?"

"That's right." You nodded. "M-My parents and I came all the way here to talk to you and your grandfather about this whole-..." You gestured to nothing. "Situation. I think they'd really like to meet you."

He fell quiet for another long moment before humming and again nodding. "Very well. You all went through all the trouble, it would only be right for me to see you all."

One hand reached out to grab the arm of the bench as if to use it to push himself up as the other arm reached out to grab the back of the bench for the same reason. A shadow falling over the small defenseless butterfly as the hand approached closed above it. F/c eyes shrank-

"STOP!!"

Before you could stop yourself, you had shouted arms reaching out. Crows cawed and flapped away in a scatter and flurry of wing beats. A few black feathers falling to the grass in their wake. Your yell had scared your parents in the doorway who had been distracted talking to Mr. Kotoya in detail but all three were startled into staring at the garden. Kagaya himself had frozen instantly arm still stretched out and raised just an inch away from crushing the poor butterfly that had decided it was still too lazy to move. For a long moment there was silence before you approached and his head turned to the right following you as you approached.

"You almost crushed it." You didn't pay attention to him as you pushed his hand away to stare at the poor thing, sighing in relief seeing it was perfectly alright. "Oh thank goodness. You poor thing." Soft hands reached out to it but didn't touch it's delicate wings. "You must be exhausted from all the flying you've done."

"....Will you be grabbing it off the bench?"

"Of course not! You can't grab a butterfly especially not by it's wings! They're fragile and it'll only hurt them more than help them." You paid him no mind only sticking out a finger to carefully nudge the little thing onto it. Smiling as it slowly clambered on. "There you go. Look how pretty you are." 

Without looking up from the butterfly you smiled sweetly and carefully stepped back over to the rose bush. Kagaya's head turning still following you as you knelt down to hold your hand to the nearest rose. Nudging your fingertip against the soft petals until it climbed onto the red petals, fluttering it's wings lightly. There. Perfectly safe and sound. F/c eyes crinkled up in a smile as the beautiful little thing fluttered back as if in thanks which made you giggle lightly at it. Lavender eyes widened hearing the giggling.

The woman's giggles were so...playful. So lively. So sweet. They radiated kindness and hidden love in them that had him pausing just hearing such a thing over a small butterfly and yet..She had refused to let it be hurt when he had almost accidentally crushed. ..A softer smile came to his lips. Until his body froze up. A burning sensation clawing up from deep down below-

"*COUGH COUGH COUGH*?!?!"

You jumped startled hearing the sudden sounds of raspy coughing but was stunned to find Kagaya doubled over so low and far he might fall out of the bench. His hands grabbed around his mouth as painful coughs and gasps wracked his body so much his body shook with each breath. It looked and sounded painful. A shout came from the doorway as Kotoya made his way over quickly. 

"Mr. Kagaya?!" Startled you stood up and held your hands out but didn't touch him. "A-Are you alright?!" You couldn't see his face as his hair hid it from view like an ebony curtain. "W-What's wrong?!"

"Easy there!" Kotoya startled you as he ran around the other side of the bench and grabbed Kagaya around his shoulders as the man gasped for air. "I knew I shouldn't have let you walk out here by yourself! Now look at you. *Sigh* Easy, Son. Deep breaths in your nose and out of your mouth."

"W-What's wrong with him? Is he sick?"

Kotoya nodded. "Yes. He has been for a long time now. I've been praying for the gods to send him aid and they did in the form of you." Despite Kagaya gasping for breath, Kotoya shot a smile at you. "Your parents told me you were an herbalist. Thank the gods he'll have someone to care for him long after me."

You....blinked. "I'm sorry. Did you say that I would be... taking care of him?"

Kagaya's body stopped shaking finally before he slowly leaned back up. Head turning to you. You froze as white eyes stared blindly at you. Half a face covered in old, purpled scars. His mouth still open panting for air as he weakly stared at you. Fat tears stinging the corners of his lashes as you stared in shock at him. Despite your obviously shocked expression Kotoya patted Kagaya on the back with a soft smile. 

"It's ok. You're going to finally have someone to care for you now. You'll be happy finally."

".... P-PAPA!!"

[echo-bleu]

Hi! For the fic prompt thing, can you do either 'The first glass of fresh water' for Maedhros or 'Trying to walk on ice' for Beren (plus maybe Lúthien?) Thank you!

Thank you!! I went with the first prompt, as I love writing Maedhros.

I guess the most obvious place for this prompt would be after his rescue from Angband but that's not where my mind went, so have some newly re-embodied Maedhros. And there is no glass involved, because sometimes utensils and manners get thrown out of the window.

13. The first glass of fresh water

On AO3 here.

It’s all rather overwhelming, actually.

He has a brand new body that is somehow the exact same shape as the one he left behind, missing hand and all. That’s a little comforting, because he’s not sure he’d know what to do with a right hand any more, and more importantly because it would feel a little too much like everything that happened has been erased.

He’s been given a soft linen tunic and breeches and summarily expelled from Mandos. So far so good. The clothes are scratchy, and the light hurts his eyes, and every sound feels like someone is playing drums with his heads. He’s also, for all the years in the Halls spent trying to piece himself back together, got his mind wrenchingly stuck on the very last moments of his past life. It’s distant, not quite here with him, but it’s like all of his edges are still held back in the past, in the horrified despair of the Silmaril burning his hand.

(His hand is smooth and intact.)

It was all for nothing. The despair gnaws at him like a small rodent, distant and easily shaken but persistent. Everything he did, everything he dragged his brothers into, their deaths – all the other deaths – were all for nothing. His emotions are muted still, just as much as his physical perception is enhanced in this new body, but he can feel that it will soon come back, and when it does—

Well.

And then, before he can process any of this properly, there are people around him. Hands, on him. Voices overlapping each other, barely distinct.

Three people. He makes his brain focus on each of their faces, ignoring their words for now. He knows them.

Fingon is just as breathtakingly beautiful as ever. (Except that day on the battlefield, when there wasn’t even enough of him left to bury.) The golden ribbons in his hair are a little blinding, but his face is soft and smiling and it feels like Maedhros can breathe again for the first time in countless years. He holds Maedhros’s good shoulder in a clasp that was once comforting – and could be again, he thinks, when his body feels like his again.

Maedhros basks in his smile for a moment, losing the feel of the damp earth under his bare feet and glare of the afternoon sun.

That voice, again, calling his name, and he’s not sure what the language is – what language is. He hears but doesn’t understand. Another hand, on his bad arm, the touch burning, like the Silmaril burned, like the fiery chasm—

Stop. Back up.

He is released from Mandos, and he has a body again. He looks down and stares at the manacle scars on his only wrist. He’s in Aman (but Aman is all wrong, with the sun casting all these strange shadows).

Fingon is here. Fingon has come to save him.

No.

The hand withdraws with a word like an apology. Maedhros doesn’t remember what an apology sounds like. Mechanically, he repeats the sounds.

Someone hums. He looks up, startled by the song, by the familiarity of it. No one sang in Mandos. No one sang, because someone was missing. Someone…

Káno looks… tired. There are lines on his face that shouldn’t be there. A slump of his shoulder, he who always slid everywhere dramatically, like he was in a constant performance.

Not so much, near the end.

Káno didn’t follow him. Káno wasn’t there, he didn’t die – did he?

He’s still humming, softly, barely more than a whisper. He’s here. Maedhros wants to… something. Say he missed him. Apologize. Hug him. Something.

He drops his gaze.

The third person has hands that hover but don’t touch. Different hands, lighter than Finno’s and darker than Káno’s, but also… something else. Their presence feels more real, somehow. Realer than reality.

(Is this reality?)

But they’re missing something. There used to be… more hands. More people. Two of them. One half is missing.

Elrond, it finally comes. Elrond and Elros. (Sons.)

The despair strikes back hard. It was all for nothing. He harmed them so much. He loved them so much. He didn’t know how to love them without being their personal monster.

Dimly, he remembers something from the vague clump of memories that is his stay in Mandos. Elros chose to be a Man. Chose to die like a mortal. (Chose to leave.)

Elrond stayed behind. He looks Maedhros in the eye now, just barely shorter than him, Elf and Man and Maia all mingled and focused on him and Maedhros can’t sustain it.

He looks away.

“Maedhros—”

Maedhros pushes the hands away and runs.

He doesn’t stop until he wakes up to himself waddling in a freezing cold stream. The cold jolts him to attention, drawing a sharp breath.

He’s out of Mandos. He’s alive again.

(He’s real again.)

He swoops down and gathers some water into the cup of his hand. With only one hand (he used to drink like this in the woods with Fingon, so long ago, before), he barely gets a few drops to his mouth. He does it again. He finds himself parched.

The water doesn’t taste the same here in Aman as in Beleriand. He’d forgotten.

(His mouth tastes like ashes. He doesn’t think it will ever go away.)

“Maedhros!”

He takes a breath, settled by the cold liquid tracing a path into his insides. Fingon reaches him first (as always). He drags Maedhros out of the stream, and Maedhros lets him.

Káno has stopped humming. He looks concerned. It’s a familiar expression on his face. Elrond is at his elbow, frowning but relieved. Alive. Real.

Maedhros reaches out.

They fall into his embrace with the gratefulness of relief after a very, very long wait.

(Alive. Real.)

Send me writing and art prompts!

[fountainpenguin]

"We could have ourselves quite a fling... Tail to tail, feather to feather- don't you think we oughta flock together~?" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 30 - “Scintillate (Bdubs)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

After a long debate, the Jungle Duo agree to restructure their archaeologist roleplay into romance. Bdubs can roll with anything- it's fine! He's not feeling lonely and worthless after passing his phantom flock captain title to Martyn.

Grian, who just took a slap in the face from Scar rejecting his QPR proposal, opts to throw caution to the wind like the chaos-chasing bird he is. Let's plan a little roleplay...

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

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BdoubleO100

Status: Taking the lead

Captain of New Star Station’s phantom hybrid flock

💙  🧡  💚

Grian’s idea of a skin change, apparently, was pulling his goggles down over his eyes and switching out his red sweater for a green one. When Bdubs gives him a pointed look, Grian whips his Sherlock Grian hat out from behind him and situates it carefully on his curls. They’re extra fluffy today… Bdubs wonders drearily if that’s just part of the costume change or if Grian’s trying to get a reaction out of him. Oh, he’ll get a reaction… 

Bdubs crosses his arms. There are several farm servers and they keep the portals in a hallway-shaped building of the same name. One’s for sheer optimization- Testing, fiddling, and demonstrating farms at max efficiency. Several are for mobs. One of the food servers is a little tamer and you get a lot of recipe theorists practicing their culinary crafting in there. One server’s packed with restaurants. Kinda defeats the purpose when it won’t leave you saturated in Between, but Scott likes to review the required resources (read: taste-test) before he approves them into New Star.

Then, well… There are the carrot servers. Several of ‘em, actually, just to give people elbow room. Nice way to minimize running into an ex. There are some servers with nice ballrooms or gardens to walk through, but Grian specifically asked for beds. So, cabins and beds is what he’s gonna get. Bdubs waits near the portal entrance (away from the line) and starts tapping his foot as Grian jogs up to join him. “I thought I said you don’t wanna attract attention in there.”

“Honestly, you know what I’m like. This is as good as it gets with me, mate.” Grian looks him up and down. “Don’t look at me that way when you barely changed either. Bdubs! Turn around for me.”

Bdubs gives a grunt. He picked a skin with a dark blue shirt for this, plus gray checkerboard pants. Very soft. Perfect snugglewear.  He’s still got his mossy shawl on, but it’s not a big deal if he’s recognized. He pops by the carrot server all the time. Not always ‘cuz he’s here to see someone… Far too many people steal away in their low-energy moments and forget the server will kick them out when they’re in the last few minutes of phantom hour. This place is a feeding frenzy for phantom hybrids ten minutes before the clock tower chimes.

This is where the lower-ranked members of the flock hunt, actually, ‘cuz it’s so easy it doesn’t take any skill. Bdubs can see two of them perched high in the alcoves, chatting and licking code strings from between their fingers. They’re both splattered in blue. Well-fed. It’s way too easy here.

Maybe it’s time I let you two roam the streets.

They’re not the only ones, either. The Fox Dragon’s phantoms are loitering here too. Easy pickings, they must’ve figured out. Bdubs itches to nip at them, tell ‘em to go do some real hunting in the city, but this isn’t his circus and those aren’t his monkeys. Martyn’s the one who’d have to shoo ‘em off, and he’s back at the clock tower like a good boy. He better be.

At least the rival captain’s not here. She’s got smaller wings, but Bdubs isn’t her biggest fan. She’s fine. But introducing two captains into one hunting ground without a lot of buildup is always gonna be trouble. She and Martyn prickled around each other when Bdubs set him up on a “blind playdate” Monday night. When he and Scott went back for pick-up, they were building with Lego at the same table and talking about whatever, but the ruffled hair and many scratch marks told a story that didn’t need questions asked.

Still… New Star’s a tempting hunting ground. If Martyn can’t hold his own, Charlotte’s captain might try to throw him out.

Welp. Good lesson to learn if it come to it. Not his problem tonight. While Grian smirks, tugging at the end of his mossy shawl, Bdubs turns his head towards the portal mouth. The line’s been moving at a decent speed. Grian moves towards it, but Bdubs hesitates before plodding over to join him.

“What’s up?” Grian asks, folding arms behind his head.

“… You’re gonna get scoped out as a new kid. It’s your first time on the server. We’re dropping in at spawn. That’s where they try to get you.”

“Who was this?”

“Code sellers. Don’t look at ‘em.”

“Oh.” Grian goes quiet then. People ahead of them disappear inside the portal. After a moment, Grian asks, “Did you log out at spawn?”

“Near there, yeah. At least, I think I did… But just to be safe, give me ten seconds before you step in after me. Oh, and… We’re gonna be around sparked villagers, so try not to show your hands too much. Scares ‘em.”

Grian nods. They step into a fenced-off little area of space. The white blocks and pink mist of the portal yawn in front of them. HALO Copper’s watching, splitting groups and asking people one at a time if they’re consenting to step inside. One of New Star’s phantom hybrids drapes atop the portal blocks in silent reminder that she’ll lunge if requested. Grian moves to the side while HALO Copper shoots Bdubs a skeptical look.

“Business or pleasure?”

“Oh, he better not give me any trouble.” Bdubs hooks a thumb at Grian, who waves back. “I’m here with G. No funny business and no hunting. Cross my middle heart.”

Couple more questions. The usual. Then Bdubs pops through the pink mist. He mentally grabs hold and swishes downwards, landing with a shimmer when he’s on-server and the mist is gone. 

BdoubleO100 joined the game

Everything looks to be in order. He’s near the “town square,” in a partitioned-off spot surrounded by fence posts. There’s a bed a few blocks away. You’re s’posed to set spawn at the bed upfront before you leave, or at the very least they want you to break the bed you were using. You can probably imagine how awkward it’d be to die and respawn in a room someone else rented for the evening.

The spawn area’s got an open sky. It’s pretty much a town, complete with a market. The usual solicitors try and get his attention, but Bdubs flips up his hood and ignores them. He struts back and waits around the square ‘til Grian shimmers in at spawn in front of him.

Grian joined the game

Grian shows up stretching high, wings fanned out around him. Show-off. Bdubs grunts in memory of what he lost, but doesn’t comment. Since Grian changed skins, his feathers have lost their high-saturation shimmer, but there’s no denying he still looks good. Mossy green’s a pretty color on him.

Can’t wait to help with that.

“Whoo, what a rush,” Grian muses, and starts parsing the feathers in his wings as though examining them for the first time in his life. “It’s not vanilla here, then.”

“‘Cuz your wings didn’t shrink?” Baby wings are the default if you haven’t touched an elytra yet. Dog’s Life is one of the exceptions to that rule since they’ve got trait mods going on. “Yeah, the admin knows people like to flaunt ‘em. It’s why they don’t make you scrub client-side mods off before you join. C’mon- gotta put our names in the book and tell the staff when to check up on us.”

“Runs like a wheel,” Grian remarks, trotting after him.

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Ten

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 4,297

The aftermath of events in the town leads Joel to see you in a new light.

Warnings for canon typical violence and bloodshed. Slight spoiler regarding a wound that Joel will (presumably) receive in the series, but no mention of how it actually happens.

Come Home

Chapter Ten - Every Cloud

When Joel wakes it’s still dark outside, the winter sun slow to rise. He stirs, sits up with a grunt and stretches his arms above his head before rolling his shoulders.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, his voice thick with sleep and even huskier than usual.

“Not quite yet,” you say with a smile. “You can get another hour if you want.”

“Naw, I’m good,” he replies before shuffling out of the sleeping bag and sitting on the edge of the camp bed. “But I think you should,” he adds as he takes in your tired face.

“I’d be offended if I wasn’t going to definitely take you up on that offer,” you joke.

He smiles and stretches again as he stands, his plaid shirt riding up a little over his hips and revealing a flash of skin, a smattering of dark hair under his belly button. You see a scar on his abdomen – a puckered and darkened circular patch that you assume must have come from a gunshot and you wonder how he could have survived such a wound.

Casting your eyes to the ground, you make a show of fiddling your book back into your bag and by the time you yourself stand up, he has strolled over to his own pack. You collapse gratefully back onto the camp bed, immediately snuggling into the sleeping bag and briefly recognising that you feel cosy and warm and surrounded by his musky, masculine scent before drifting back off.

Breakfast is brief for horses and humans alike, and by the time you’ve repacked your now much emptier saddlebags and backpacks, the sky is still periwinkle blue, shot through with clouds of lilac and pink. The plan is simple. Bring the horses to a spot near to the large store and find a suitable and secure garage to leave them for a while. Then, quietly proceed on foot and investigate what you can of yesterday’s shootout. If all goes well, you’ll hit the store after that and start the ride back to Jackson in the early afternoon. If.

The first part of the day goes without a hitch. A street of large colonial townhouses with an eerie, faded beauty that are situated between the store and your exit is discovered, and you and Joel make a thorough sweep of one before settling the horses in the empty garage with a supply of food and water.

Next, you gingerly approach the main street, skirting the alleys and smaller roads that lead away from it until you come upon the scene that you had watched play out yesterday. All is silent and still, the only movement coming from the icy breeze that ruffles the tattered clothing of the infected and the blood and brain-stained hair of the one who hadn’t been given a chance to turn.

His clothes are military, a hodge-podge of a bullet proof vest with a faded FEDRA logo on the breast, dark camo pants and battered, yet sturdy combat boots. It wasn’t a complete FEDRA uniform, and the guns and ammo that you liberate from his lifeless body aren’t standard FEDRA issue, but there was every chance that he was some sort of renegade, disillusioned with the status quo in a QZ and seeking a different sort of life beyond its walls. Or he could have murdered a group of them and taken what he wanted. Either way these clearly aren’t your run of the mill survivors and you and Joel exchange a meaningful glance and you feel the tension in the air tighten.

As you follow the path of where they had retreated, you see more dead infected – six in all, plus another of their number face down in the snow, the exit wound in his head gaping to the sky. His ammo and guns are also taken and the mental tally in your head ticks down one more. Three to go. That you know of at least.

Nothing impedes your progress along the road. There are more dead infected scattered here and there but no one else, and even as you are grateful that these people seem to have saved you the job of clearing the town yourselves, you are on edge. They are heavily armed. There are more of them than you. And they know how to defend themselves. An unhappy, acid feeling settles itself into your guts as you finally enter what was a parking lot long ago, your objective looming ahead and looking both welcoming and sinister in equal measures.

The doors are thrown open and the glass and splintered wood that lie on the ground speak to a violent and hasty entry. The ivy that has twisted its way around the debris shows that this happened long ago. The trampled leaves, however, are immediately obvious as a newer development. Joel sees it as you do, and you both draw your guns before you enter.

The store isn’t as intact as you had previously thought. Part of the ceiling has caved in, relatively recently given the absence of plant life covering the chasm above. It serves to shed some welcome light, though it also deepens the shadows at the extremities of the space. The shelves you can see are mostly bare, a few pathetic looking bottles and dusty packages scattered here and there.

It doesn’t take long before you spot it up ahead. It’s unmistakeable - that weird, hunched up way of standing some runners have, like they’re weeping into their hands for their lost humanity. Joel taps your arm and mimes to you that he will take care of it quietly, but that you should cover the situation just in case. You nod your understanding and he carefully and slowly tucks his pistol away, careful not to make any noise. Just because you hadn’t heard any clickers, didn’t mean that there weren’t any.

He sneaks between the shelves, ensuring that the runner’s back is to him. It continues to rock on its feet, making those awful sobbing noises that had haunted you for years after the initial outbreak. Closer…closer…until he lunges, grabbing the infected by the neck, his meaty forearm enclosing it in a crushing chokehold. It struggles, hissing noises and gurgles emanating from its steadily shattering larynx until finally it succumbs to the inevitable. Joel gently and silently lowers it to the floor before you move to join him. The infection was fresh, the same mix of camo and FEDRA uniform that you saw outside garbs it. Two to go.

The sports section of the store is, inevitably, a mess. Almost anything that could be construed as a weapon, as well as the weapons themselves, are gone. Shelving units lie in disarray and glass from casings are smashed to smithereens and mixed with the debris from the fallen roof. Cautiously, picking your way over the mess of the floor, you hug a wall with a tattered, half fallen banner proclaiming 50% off something or other. Joel is an aisle over, treading softly as he moves his torch and gun over the shadows toward the back of the store. You hear the soft shuffle of leather and then the scrape of metal as he picks up a baseball bat from where it has been abandoned and recognise the wisdom in having a quieter weapon to hand while you don't seem to be in any immediate danger from the living, putting your own gun away in favour of drawing your machete.

The mirrored side of a display case saves your life. A flicker of movement in its dirty glass grabs your attention a split second before a hoarse shout comes from beyond a previously unseen doorway, and suddenly a runner is barrelling at full speed toward you out of the changing rooms, its bloody fingers clawing at the air ahead of it in anticipation of reaching your face. You dimly register another scream from the darkness to your left, and push it out of your mind as you take aim and slam your machete as hard as you can into the head of the thing in front of you. Blood explodes from it, and it falls to the floor twitching, still howling, still trying to get at you until you wrench your weapon out and hit it again, this time stilling it for good.

Another scream in the darkness ahead and your blood freezes as you try to tug the machete free. It won’t come, buried too deeply as it is in the skull of the monster on the ground. You fumble for your gun instead, but it’s too late. A force slams into you, knocking you to the floor, rattling your teeth and driving the breath from your body as well as the gun from your holster. Rolling eyes and teeth and blood and deafening snarling in your ears as you brace against the writhing runner’s neck with one arm and scrabble on the floor for something, anything with the other. The broken shard of glass that you drive into its eye does minimal damage and you know you have mere seconds before it breaches your defences. Something heavy, something sharp brushes against your hand and you grab on to it properly before wedging it up between your bodies and driving it fully into the nightmare face above you. It stills, finally it stills and you push it off quickly to go and help Joel, who is in fact already scrambling to come and help you after having defeated his own foe.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay,” you reply quietly, your own breath coming in stunted gasps.

“You’re bleeding.” His voice is dull, suddenly devoid of emotion and you look down at your red-stained palm, holding it up to him so he can see the clean slash of it.

“Glass,” you reply. “Or maybe-“ You turn back to observe your handiwork.

“Well…that’s a new one,” he remarks wryly. The hockey skate is just as firmly embedded in the second runner’s skull as your machete is buried in the first and you can’t help the bubble of nervous laughter that bursts from your lips.

“You sure you’re not hurt?” he asks again, his meaning clear as he hands you a bandage for your hand.

“It got my coat. Didn’t go through,” you confirm as you briefly shed the garment to show him your distinctly blood-and-bite free arm. “Thank God its cold and I have twenty six layers on.”

Joel manages to wrench your machete free and wipes it unceremoniously on the runner’s jacket before giving it over to you.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Guess there were more of them.”

“Guess so-“ he begins before you both whirl at another noise from the back of the store. No clicking, no howling screams. This sounds more like someone trying to move stealthily through the mess on the floor. Joel tenses, draws his gun again and you move quietly together toward the sound. It came from the direction of the large counter at the back, long-silent cash registers standing atop it like sentinels.

There is no one behind there, but there is a door, a large “Staff Only” sign on it. Joel motions for you to step back then grasps the handle and gently turns it, but before he can push, it flies open and another figure hurtles through. The man clearly hoped to get some sort of jump on you, but Joel is ready and merely turns, using the man’s own momentum to hurl him, dumping him to the floor before training his pistol unerringly at the man’s head.

“Don’t fuckin’ move,” Joel growls.

Your own gun is back in your hands, without you really remembering drawing it, and you step forward, also with the man in your sights. He’s young-ish. Thirty maybe, definitely born before the world went to shit, but probably doesn’t remember much about it. He has the same FEDRA vest on, the same combat boots.

Joel backs away, keeping his gun trained on the man who takes the opportunity to sit up, his hands held in surrender.

“I said don’t fuckin’ move!”

“Okay, okay,” the man acquiesces, settling back down on the floor and holding his hands up further in deference and defeat. “Let’s just be cool about this.” He eyes Joel warily, and then his gaze skates over to you. They linger on your chest and you feel a swirl of disgust in your stomach.

“Where are the rest?” you ask, your voice clipped and harsh as you demand an answer.

The man looks you up and down again before he gives a gloomy kind of giggle his head lolling back against the door behind him. “Dead. But you got ‘em from what I could hear.”

“Why are you here?” Joel demands.

“Why does anyone do anything anymore? Survival, man. A couple of us were looking for stuff in here when we heard the gunshots outside. Apparently one of my buddies got bit before he made it inside. Turned in the night. We had a pact, man. You get bit, you tell. Guess when the time came he was too chickenshit to actually do it. I hid in there." He jabs a thumb behind him in the direction of the door. "Let it play out”

“And what about you?” Joel asks menacingly, advancing a few steps forward.

“Woah, woah, easy. I’m clean. I swear.” Joel doesn’t move and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head, weighing up the cost of believing this stranger. “Though I guess I would say that,” the man adds in a quieter tone of voice.

“Prove it,” you say in an icy tone.

His voice is now distinctly skeevy for someone with two guns trained at his head. “Hey lady, how should I do that? Huh? You want me to strip? At least buy me a drink first, sheesh.”

You roll your eyes. “Look, fucko, either you can prove it, or I can shoot you. Take your pick.”

The man looks toward Joel as if he thinks he will find some succour in that granite monolith. Unsurprisingly, he does not.

“Un-fucking-believable,” the man mutters as he begins to stand.

“Slowly,” Joel barks.

The man obeys, taking off his bulletproof vest, his thick sweater and t shirt. By the time he is unlacing his boots and pulling them off he is shivering in the frigid air, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much. You still don’t know what you’ll do if he is clean. Take him back to Jackson? Send him away in the opposite direction with supplies and best wishes? His very presence so close to the town is a threat and your grip tightens painfully on your gun as he finally straightens up, now just in his boxer shorts.

“See?” he says, making a slow, shuffling revolution. You dip your torch up and down his body, checking that he is being truthful. It appears he is, though his skin is marred by reddish black bruises as well as several distinctive scars, some healed, others very fresh, one still covered with a dressing that looks to be several days old.

“Fine. Get dressed.” Joel still doesn’t move as he gives the order. By the brevity of his tone you guess that his thoughts are running along the same path as yours.

“So uh…where are you guys from?” the man says, his voice entirely too over-eager.

“None of your goddamn business,” growls Joel.

“Gotta be close,” he continues, seemingly blithely unaware of the danger he was digging himself deeper into. “Look like you’re well fed, got plenty of supplies. And I didn’t hear a car draw up so…” He trails off as he pulls the sweater back over his head and faces you again.

“And what about you?” you ask, eyes narrowing as you step forward. “Any more of your ex-FEDRA buddies in the area? Or did you just happen to come across a group of them and they gave up their shit willingly?”

The man huffs another brief and humourless laugh. “Not willingly. Some patrol moving from one QZ to another. Or scouting supplies, who knows? I lived under FEDRA long enough. My conscience is clear.” Well…you supposed you couldn’t blame him for that attitude.

“As for where we come from. Here and there. We got a camp a few miles away. Lots of people. Women and children too.” His tongue comes out to wet his lips, an involuntary gesture. “Matter of fact my girl’s pregnant. We were just looking for a place to settle, thought this might be the one-“

A harsh burst of laughter escapes your lips. “Now that…that is bullshit.” Out of the corner of your eye you see Joel’s gaze flick to you briefly as you take another step forward to fall in line with him. “And you wanna know how I know that? You’re beat up pretty bad. And I know what the aftermath of a goddamn knife fight looks like. If you really had a safe, cosy home to be in nearby, you wouldn’t have wounds that fresh or dressings that old. Or maybe your “buddies” just enjoyed stabbing you for fun, hmm?” A steely note of fear has crept into the man’s eyes, robbing him of his previous facetious demeanour and you know you’ve hit the mark.

“And besides that,” you continue softly. “You’ve been eyefucking me every moment we’ve been here. There are no women at your camp, if you even have a camp. And if there are I feel desperately fucking sorry for them. You’re a liar.” On the last word, you pull the trigger. He doesn’t even get a sound out before he collapses to the ground, the inside of the back of his skull now decorating the door and wall behind him.

Tucking your gun away, you turn back to Joel. “Well...shall we?”

More guns and ammunition are found in the Staff Only area, as well as some food and first aid supplies. The store also gives up a couple of bows and some arrows, as well as some screwdrivers, nails, winter clothing and a lone pack of sanitary pads. It holds some more frivolous items too, including what you hope will be Ellie’s Christmas present. You debate with yourself for a full minute about how hygienic some of this stuff could be at this point before shrugging and grabbing a few items of make up, feeling an odd little twinge of guilt as you do so.

The ride back to Jackson is peaceful. You feel it seep into your bones. The calm. The still. The certainty that you had done your duty to protect what you had. Joel has an air of pensive distractedness about him and has done since you had left the store lifeless and silent once again. You weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking – if anyone was a closed book it was him – but you didn’t get the impression that he was upset with you in any way. More that he was lost in thought about something or other.

You eat as you ride, pulling out a wrap of venison jerky and offering some to Joel alongside you.

“Thanks,” he says shortly, the first word he’s said since you started the journey back. You’ve just taken a much larger bite than intended when he speaks to you again and when he does his voice is tinged with soft amusement

“You know who you remind me of?”

You look over at him, raise a questioning eyebrow as you attempt to chew the tough meat more hurriedly.

“Bubbles.”

Finally you manage to swallow most of what you’ve bitten off. “Okay, Joel you really gotta stop bringing me in halfway through cryptic conversations.”

He smiles more widely at you before he responds. “You ever see the Powerpuff Girls?”

“…yeah? Didn’t think that would be your kinda thing if I’m honest.”

He drags his gaze away from you and looks out over the snowy landscape ahead. “Not me. My uhhh…my daughter, she loved ‘em when she was little. At one point I swear the whole house was nothin’ but pink and blue and green. She even took up karate, wanted to fight like ‘em before she realised team sports were more her thing.” He smiles more sadly this time and you hardly dare to breathe for fear of breaking whatever spell was making him open up to you like this.

He darts his head up to look at you again and for the first time since you’ve met him, your eyes directly meet his. The dappled, golden sun is catching them repeatedly as the horse plods on, caramel to deepest chocolate and back again as he rides. They are stunningly beautiful, soft in winter’s light and you drop your gaze to his lips, struggling to tune back in to what he is saying.

“You remind me of Bubbles. You look at her and she seems like someone who needs to be taken care of. Sweet.” Wait…does he think you're sweet?

“Cute.” Does he think you’re CUTE?!

“And then you see her in action and you realise she might just be the most dangerous one of all of ‘em.”

Gaping, you stare at him in stunned shock. Of all the conversations you thought you’d ever have with Joel this hadn’t even begun to feature, and it's not just because of the absurdity of the subject matter. You say the only thing your short circuiting brain will allow you to at this time.

“Well…she was my favourite.”

“Mine too. Sarah, she preferred Buttercup.” Ah. The mystery of Sarah resolved, and another piece of the puzzle that is Joel slots into place. His smile fades as he looks at you, and a seriousness permeates his features once again.

“I think we can keep what happened between ourselves. He died in the shootout with the rest. No reason to stir anything up back home.”

“I did what needed to be done-“ you begin, frowning, and he holds up a hand to stop you.

“I agree,” he says smoothly. “But some might see it different because he wasn’t infected. And he was unarmed. Probably think we shoulda brought him back, see how he got on in Jackson. Tommy and Maria are tough sonsabitches, but sometimes they’re too damn good. And some others there barely know what its like outside anymore. They couldn’t survive without other people makin’ the tough calls. It’s easy to judge when you’re sittin’ pretty.

You jaw twitches as you look down at the horse’s mane bobbing up and down in front of you and force down the flare of anger that threatens to overtake. You had been so sure of your righteousness, so certain that it was a good call.

“Hey.” Joel touches your arm, pulls it back so you tug on the reins and both your horses pull up to a stop. Reluctantly, you look up at him.

“If you hadn’ta done it, I would,” he confesses, and you see the truth of it burning fiercely in his eyes.

Later that evening, when you have been welcomed back into town, debriefed, and your found supplies whisked away to join the stores you walk back to your house with Joel, the thrumming levity that always came after a successful foray jangling through you. It was different, though, this time. Joel’s voice saying the words “sweet” and “cute” kept sweeping through your mind, adding to the thrill in your blood. The prospect of the winter’s dance was also a source of warm and pleasant agitation, and you couldn’t remember the last time you were excited about something that didn’t revolve around food or supplies. Then there was Ellie’s Christmas present, something which you also hoped would involve Joel, and as you walk up your porch steps you gear yourself up to ask him what you need to.

“So…I have a bit of a weird question to ask you.”

“Oooh my favourite kind,” he smiles, leaning against the wooden frame of your porch as he looks up at you.

“Are there any lakes or big ponds in Jackson?”

“Uh… not within the walls, but there’s a lake not too far out. You wanna go ice fishin’ or somthin’?”

“Not exactly. But if you can stand to come out with me for another day, there’s something I’d like to do.”

“I think I could stand that,” he smiles as he folds his arms and shifts his weight to one leg. “Wanna tell me what it’s all about, Bubbles?”

The nickname catches you off guard and you giggle. “What, have I gotta call you Mojo Jojo now?”

“Naw, no way am I as smart as that monkey.”

You laugh, fully laugh as the joy you have been feeling finally spills past your lips and his eyes crinkle to black as his smile grows wider.

“It's gonna be a surprise,” you grin. “But to sweeten the deal, I promise I’ll bring some coffee.”

“Yup. Sold,” he says, stretching out his hand for you to seal the deal. You take it, and your skin tingles as his thumb lightly brushes over the back of your hand. This time, he holds you for a beat longer than necessary and when he finally drops it you’re surprised to see his grin recede into something almost coy.

“Well, goodnight,” he says a little gruffly, pushing himself away from your porch and heading over to his own.

“Night Joel,” you reply, your voice emerging more tenderly than you had anticipated.

He gives a final wave before disappearing into his house, and you step inside your own to be alone with your happy yet tumultuous thoughts.

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Next chapter

[albatris]

Tell me about grub! I love grub!

grub!!!!

here she is, courtesy of the lovely @polyacerine :3c

Grub is Nat's rescue kitty from a local shelter! she was a..... gift? surprise? I guess?? from Quinn, although not without ulterior motives >:3

basically Quinn and Alex are attempting to win Nat’s trust and get him to depend on them or even just to LIKE them to start with, but they don’t really. know. an awful lot of useful information about him because he’s sorta paranoid and cagey. two facts they do know are that 1. he likes animals, especially cats and 2. he’s excruciatingly pathetically lonely

Quinn wants to integrate Nat into some of their own social circles and help him make some friends, but for the first week or so after turning he’s too nervous to leave his apartment except for work. he’s super fucking intimidated by other vampires, Alex included, and he doesn’t want anything to do with humans because of his newfound tendency to want to eat them

so Quinn eventually gives up trying to coax this anxious trainwreck of a vampire into getting out of the house and starting to be a person again n is just like. fuck it. maybe I’ll just throw a cat at him?? he’s just spiraling into a crisis all on his own, he’s barely willing to talk to us, and this will maybe be a foot in the door in terms of getting him comfortable being around other living creatures again??

so they get him a cat. Nat is home one day when a delivery of pet supplies arrives and he's like "nononono this must be a mistake I didn't order this and I don't have a pet" and the delivery person is just like. well it's addressed to you so! good luck!

and Nat is busy going hhuhhh???? about this when Quinn arrives and asks to be buzzed up to the apartment, and convince him by going “hey I brought you some blood for snacks <3” but then when they get up there they’re like “AND ALSO HERE’S A PET CAT TOO”

anyway, he’s initially super nervous about having a cat living with him although he LOVES her. because he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt her if he gets stressed out or hungry ;-; Quinn talks him into it by insisting that she is the least appetising creature on the planet because she is Genuinely Just That Ugly and also smells real weird. like literally what vampire would want to eat this. Nat is like hmmm yeah ok

so he acquires a cat!

she was a stray before she got to the shelter n has obviously been through some rough times, though has clearly been a housecat in the past, she loves people :3 she’s old! she’s got elevator music in her brain! she’s blind in one eye and near deaf in both ears! she’s got scars! she’s missing half her tail! she’s fluffy! she likes to murder shoelaces and make beeping noises!

she’s a bit skittish at first, but doesn’t take long to warm up to Nat c: she’s very VERY needy and affectionate, she cries whenever he’s not home, and will snuggle right up next to him on the pillow when he’s asleep. they’re both very glad to have a friend I think c:

vampires are creatures who are instinctively drawn to being warm and cosy and cuddly, so vampires and cats pair well together hehe

he can’t go anywhere in his apartment without her trailing after him and yelling for attention and love. Quinn finds this vaguely annoying. Nat loves it and it makes his heart melt n this weird little cat is responsible for like 90% of his emotional wellbeing. Grub stops him from spiraling too badly.... like, Nat just likes to feel needed and useful and loved, and he enjoys having something to look after and be responsible for :3 plus it's a friendship that's a little easier to manage with his schizotypal anxiety and paranoia, not that Quinn put THAT much thought into it

man idk if Nat actually genuinely doesn’t believe Grub is ugly or whether he just refuses to narrate as such. either way, he’s horrified when other people insult her, but like. yeah. he’s well aware most people find her somewhat bad to look at, and he takes great joy in showing people the EXTENSIVE collection of Grub pictures on his phone and going “isn’t she cute?? isn’t she the most beautiful cat you’ve ever seen?? she’s perfect and adorable right?? right??” in a cheerful-but-increasingly-threatening voice. and watching people squirm and lie through their teeth. because he’s a bastard and he finds it very funny

he does this to some random guy Quinn’s kidnapped and handcuffed to a chair for him to eat at one point and this poor guy is like. fucking sweating bullets and internally screaming just sort of like……. what kind of sick power play is this…. is this normal vampire behaviour….. is this guy going to rip my throat out if I don’t say his cat is cute convincingly enough….. what the fuck is happening

whereas Nat’s thought process is just “I have zero interest in actually eating this guy but he is handcuffed to a chair with no means of escape which means I can ramble to him as long as I want. of course I am going to take advantage of this for a while lmao”

hmmmmm and one wholesome fact is that Nat often makes Grub extremely fancy little homecooked meals when he feeds her. like. healthy safe meals for cats! but still just. yep. he lovingly cooks for her frequently. this is also funny because Nat is a vegetarian and refuses to cook meat for any of his friends (except Lloyd occasionally), but WILL cook meat specially for his cat

he will also make up little nonsense songs about how cute and special she is and he will sing these to her while dancing with her around the apartment. it is incredibly silly and incredibly cute. I cannot emphasise enough how much he adores her

aaaaand this has been Grub Facts with monday!!! have an excellent day :D

[shion-yu]

Out of the Woods (part 2)

Part 1 | Rey's toyhouse link

It was near midnight when they reached the village. Felix haphazardly tied the horses up and ran into the inn with Rey, shouting for them to call the doctor. Rey was limp and burning in his arms, completely unresponsive since his intense moment of panic earlier. They were shuffled into a room, the hostess seemingly annoyed that they’d burst so unceremoniously into her business but Felix couldn't bring himself to even pretend to care. His only concern was Rey. 

There was no healer in the village, only a traditional doctor who looked so old that Felix’s first instinct was to have little faith in him. Thankfully he was more competent than he appeared and worked quickly examining Rey. He quickly diagnosed Rey with scarlatina and told Felix they'd need to quarantine for perhaps several weeks until Rey’s rash was gone. “Better to do it at my place where there are no children around,” he said. “Can you carry him?” Felix nodded.

The innkeeper was of course near hysterics when she was told the sheets Rey had touched would need to be burned. Felix didn't have time for this tantrum and simply slammed a handful of gold coins on her bar before they left. It would more than cover the price of new sheets - and hopefully encourage her from causing any more fuss. The last thing he needed was trouble and for someone to recognize Rey, especially while he was too ill to be moved. 

Felix carried Rey bridal style to the doctor's home. The old man lived alone and told Felix that it was unlikely himself or Felix would contract the disease as they were adults. Felix pointed out that Rey, too, was an adult. But at only twenty and likely having been exposed to fewer childhood illnesses than the average person growing up inside the castle, Felix wasn't surprised that Rey of all people would manage to get the disease. Once inside the doctor instructed Felix to get the horses while he gave Rey a cool bath to work on lowering the fever. Felix was worried about leaving Rey, lest he wake up and become frightened in an unfamiliar place. He also doubted the doctor would be able to handle Rey if he went into one of his fits. Small as Rey was, he always surprised Felix with his inert strength when he had one of his episodes. Plus, he wasn't looking forward to explaining the extensive scarring that covered Rey’s body. He tried to explain this with as few details as possible and thankfully the doctor understood. He went to get the horses and left Felix in charge of bathing Rey instead. 

Felix had never bathed another person before and felt awkward touching the prince in such an intimate way. But getting Rey’s fever down took priority over modesty, so he looked to the side as much as possible as he undressed Rey and lifted him into the tub. Rey’s eyes opened for the first time in hours and he screeched as if the water were ice cold. Felix had to hold him down as he lurched aimlessly forward. “Rey, it’s okay, I just need to get your fever down,” Felix said, but he could tell none of the words were getting through. Rey’s eyes were entirely vacant and he reached blindly into the air in front of him. 

Realizing Rey might hurt himself if this continued, Felix quickly stripped down to his underwear and joined Rey in the tub. He sat behind him and held Rey close, shushing him. To Felix’s relief it worked and Rey stopped fighting. He was still shivering violently though. “I know, I’m sorry,” Felix murmured, running his fingers through Rey’s hair in a way he hoped was comforting. Normally he would never do this, but they were in extenuating circumstances. And, Felix figured, Rey must likely wouldn't remember it either.

Felix wasn't sure how long he was supposed to keep Rey in the bath. Once the water turned too cold for Felix himself to be comfortable, he made the decision to pick Rey up and dry him off with the towels the doctor had left them. He left their used clothes in a pile as the doctor had instructed him to be burned later. 

The bedroom the doctor had directed them to use was small and had only one twin bed. Felix suspected he'd be sleeping on the couch in the living room - that or the floor. At least for tonight it'd be the floor; there was no way he was leaving Rey by himself right now even if it was just one room over. He dressed both Rey and himself in night clothes that he assumed had been left out for them and then placed Rey under the sheets. He sighed and sat cross legged next to the bed on the floor, exhausted. Rey was mumbling to himself feverishly and Felix watched him with a great level of concern. Would it really take a few weeks for Rey to recover from this? That seemed like such a long time. Felix had been aware of scarlet fever before, but knew little about it firsthand. 

He heard the doctor return through the front door which was confirmed by the old man’s knock. “Come in,” Felix said.

“Ah, good, you’re settled,” the doctor said pleasantly at the sight of Rey in bed. “Did his fever go down at all?”

“I think a bit,” Felix said. “Um... I’m sorry. What was your name?”

The man chuckled, though not unkindly. “Dr. Kraven,” he said. “I’ve got some medicine brewing, we’ll give it to him soon.”

“Thank you,” Felix said. “And thank you for inviting us into your home on such short notice.”

Dr. Kraven shook his head. “It’s not a bother. And it’s safer for everyone if he stays away from other people for now. He’s very contagious while he still has that rash. Has he been itching?”

“When he’s awake,” Felix said. Which hadn’t been much.

“I have ointment we can put on him too,” the doctor said. “But better to let him sleep while he’s already sleeping. You should rest, too. There’s a couch in the other room.”

“I know,” Felix said. “But I’m staying right here.” He was afraid if he took his eyes off Rey, something would happen that would make him regret doing so.

“I’ll bring you a chair,” Dr. Kraven said. Thankfully, he was used to the brusqueness of worried companions. Felix thanked him quietly.

Rey slept for a few hours and Felix dozed in the chair next to him, his arms crossed and his head bobbing forward. Freya had made a small nest at the end of the bed near Rey’s feet and slept, seemingly aware that she needed to be calm and quiet while Rey was ill. Shortly before dawn, Rey began to moan continuously and Felix felt his face. Panicking at the absurd fever Rey was running, Felix replaced the wet towels on his forehead and neck. Rey’s eyes opened and he grabbed at Felix blindly. Felix shushed him and held his hand for the rest of the night. 

The next morning Rey didn’t seem any better, but Felix told himself that this would take time. At least they weren’t stuck outside anymore. Dr. Kraven frequently coaxed Rey to drink from a kettle that had a long spigot at the end. Rey was too out of it to refuse but he seemed to have great difficulty swallowing and much of it dribbled down his chin, adding to the wetness on the bed from the damp compresses and sweat. The atmosphere was stale with sickness and Felix only left a few times to stretch and take several deep breaths of fresh air outside the home.

The delirium hadn’t improved, either. Felix gave him another bath, but this time Rey’s reaction was much more severe. He screamed in a way that Felix was sure was ripping his already damaged throat to shreds. Felix tried to hold him down as he had last night, a task that proved difficult when Rey bit down on his arm, hard.

Felix couldn’t help it, he hit Rey accompanied by several choice swear words. Rey let go and glared at him like a wounded animal, his mostly naked form pressed against the edge of the tub as far as he could away from Felix. A modest amount of blood dripped from Felix’s forearm into the bath and bloomed in the water like red smoke. Felix was a patient man, yes, but his patience could only go so far. Biting definitely crossed that line.

He left Rey in the tub with a scowl and wrapped a towel around his bleeding arm, wrapping a second one around his waist as he went to go find Dr. Kraven. The man was at the stove stirring yet another concoction he was brewing for Rey. “What happened?” He asked when he saw Felix dripping all over his kitchen floor.

“The brat bit me,” Felix muttered angrily. 

He showed Dr. Kraven his arm by request. “I don’t think it requires sutures, but he certainly did get you good,” Dr. Kraven said. Felix told himself not to get too annoyed at the slight tone of amusement in his voice. “We’ll clean and bandage it - where’s Rey?”

“Still in the bath,” Felix said. 

“He shouldn’t be alone,” Dr. Kraven said, which caused a pang of guilt to shoot through Felix’s chest. He knew that, but he also couldn’t fully fault himself for losing his temper when Rey had literally bit him. “Let’s go together,” Dr. Kraven said, sensing Felix’s apprehension. 

In the bathroom, they found Rey huddling in the corner surrounded by a large puddle of water. He’d somehow managed to get himself out of the tub and was crying, which made Felix feel even worse. Dr. Kraven knelt in front of Rey using a calm and steady tone as he said, “There there, boy, you’re alright. Let’s get you dried off.”

Rey shook his head no, eyes wide with fear. He didn’t know who this man was - he only trusted Felix. Felix, who he now realized had blood running down his hand... Rey threw himself forward and grabbed Felix’s arm. All too late did Felix realize what was happening, confused until Rey’s eyes began to glow a piercing bright blue. He shook Rey, panicking and glancing at Dr. Kraven to gauge the man’s response. He couldn’t read the doctor’s expression. “Rey, stop it, I’m fine,” he said quickly, his tone desperate. “Stop it, you’re already sick.” If Rey actually used his powers, it’d doubtlessly make the prince’s condition much worse. He hid his injured arm behind his back out of sight, hoping for a simple solution.

It seemed to work. Rey’s eyes went back to normal and he fell forward against Felix’s chest, shivering. Felix sighed and held him close. What a troublesome man his prince was. He toweled Rey off and carried him to bed. Rey was mumbling something and Felix leaned in close to hear. “I couldn’t save her. Anita, I’m sorry.” 

Felix felt an acute lump in his throat. Anita - one of the girls who’d been kidnapped with Rey for those two long years before Felix had come along. Felix didn’t know the details of the experiment, but he knew she’d been drowned - and that Rey had been unable to bring her back. He shushed Rey, stroking Rey’s wet hair in a way he hoped was comforting. “Rest, Rey. Nobody’s in danger anymore.”

Rey looked at him tearfully. “I failed,” he whispered.

“You didn’t fail,” Felix said. “Shh. Sleep.” Rey closed his eyes, tears running down his face. To Felix’s relief, Rey fell asleep almost immediately. He sighed and sat back in the chair next to the bed, hand still resting on Rey’s head. He could feel the presence of Dr. Kraven, who had now seen both Rey’s scars and proof that Rey wasn’t quite normal at all. He anticipated questions that he didn’t know how to answer, but to his surprise Dr. Kraven simply left and returned with antiseptic and bandages.

Felix was quiet as Dr. Kraven cleaned and wrapped his arm up. “You have questions,” Felix said quietly once it was finished.

“I’ve seen enough in my time to know my only business is to take care of those who are suffering,” the doctor said. “It’s neither my responsibility nor to my best advantage to ask. Isn’t that right?” He looked Felix dead in the eyes and Felix felt a rush of gratitude towards the man.

“That’s right,” he answered quietly. “It’s safer that way.” Dr. Kraven nodded and went back to the kitchen, leaving Felix and Rey in the bedroom by themselves. Felix hung his head and held Rey’s hand. He was so very tired and just wanted Rey to go back to normal - his usual snarky self that drove Felix crazy. 

Things very slowly began to improve after that day. Rey’s fever wasn’t quite as high and he didn’t actually attack Felix again, although there were several instances where Felix had to hold Rey down because he was struggling to escape to some unknown place after waking from nightmares. Thankfully Felix was far stronger than the prince and managed to keep him in bed without Rey hurting either of them. He refused to sleep on the couch until he knew for sure that Rey was in the clear, and even then only did so because Dr. Kraven insisted with the promise that he wouldn’t leave Rey alone while he rested.

By the end of the first week, Rey was able to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time and sit up with assistance. By the end of the second week he’d migrated from the bedroom to the living room couch and was able to keep small bites of food down. His fever had broken and he was no longer delirious, although he still woke up confused and troubled with nightmares. Felix was always there to calm him down, though. The old doctor was always nearby too and Rey learned to trust him if only because Felix did. He knew he was fortunate to have recovered, mostly thanks to Dr. Kraven. So he tried not to snap too much when the doctor fussed over him being up for too long or insisted that Rey drink more medicine even when he didn’t want to. Regardless, he got a death glare from Felix every time he did complain.

“When can we leave?” Rey asked the two of them in the middle of the third week. He was sitting on the couch propped up by pillows. The skin where his rash had been had peeled - something he’d found disgusting - and was now mostly healed.

“Sometime this week,” Dr. Kraven said with a confident smile. “You’ve done very well.”

“You need to be able to walk,” Felix reminded him.

“I can walk,” Rey huffed. 

“And ride a horse,” Felix added. Rey looked away, unable to confidently claim he could accomplish that skill. But eventually, that too would be possible. Like the doctor had predicted, it had been slightly over three weeks since the evening they’d burst through the door of the tavern, Felix begging for someone to help Rey. The prince was still physically weak and tired easily, but he was finally well enough to move on towards their next destination. Felix insisted that Dr. Kraven examine Rey completely a final time before they left, which Rey reluctantly submitted to. 

“I give you a clean bill of health,” the doctor said almost proudly, smiling at Rey. “Just take it easy, alright? You won’t be completely back to top shape for some time. If you push yourself, you could become very ill again.” 

Felix gave Rey a look that clearly communicated: ‘Hear that? No idiocy.’ Rey rolled his eyes at Felix but shook Dr. Kraven’s hand gratefully, thanking him for essentially saving his life. He of course handed Dr. Kraven a rather large bag of gold coins as well which contained a sum far more than what was typical for a doctor’s bill. The good man tried to refuse but Rey insisted  he take it. 

“You can use it to help other people as you helped us,” Rey said, which was what made Dr. Kraven give in. He bid the pair adieu, reminding Felix once again to keep Rey from doing anything too strenuous for a while as they headed out.

“Heed that,” Felix said to him, glancing at the prince on his horse behind him. “We’re going to take it slow.”

“Yes, yes,” Rey sighed. He stopped his horse when Felix did so rather suddenly, narrowly avoiding crashing into the other man. “What was that for?!”

“I’m serious, Rey,” Felix said. “You were really sick. Let’s not do this again.”

Rey looked down, embarrassed. “I got it the first time,” he said.

“Good,” Felix said. “Now come on. You’ve got a lady who’s been waiting for you very patiently in the next town.”

Rey made a distasteful face - the same face he always did whenever the actual purpose of their journey was mentioned. Felix smirked and they started moving again. True to his word, Rey didn’t complain when Felix made them take three times as many rest stops as usual. But when they arrived at the next village and Rey went back to being the absolute brat he was in the face of meeting yet another potential suitor, Felix was finally able to relax. Things were back to normal and Rey would be alright. Now they just needed to find Rey a wife.

Fin.

[seijorhi]

Aaahhh fracture. What an amazing fic. Kinda embarrassing to say but i keep going back to that one to try to squeeze out more clues about osamu's thoughts... he's just as fucked up as he's hot lol but also very enigmatic. (Spoilers ahead)

We know he probably wasn't very happy about reader distancing herself from him and the sister, but did he know it was to give them space as a couple? if the sister hadn't threatened him with divorce, what would he have done to get the reader? was he going to conform to watch her from afar while he was married to her sister? what if reader got a bf/gf? during the end, he also says things along the line of "i know you want this too" is it pure gaslighting or did he delude himself a little?

Sorry if these questions are annoying, i just love your miya twins fics... scar tissue was amazing too, i wonder how he's gonna deal with reader now </3

have a good day, rhi!

the reader was always going to spend her summer break with her sister and osamu, and osamu was always planning on using those weeks together to make his move; the only difference would've been that if her sister was still alive, he'd have used her against the reader, threatening to tell – and that would break her poor sister's heart, wouldn't it?

and while the reader knows her sister loves her, deep down there'd be that flickering doubt that if osamu went to her and said she'd come onto him while she claimed he'd raped her, her sister might take her husband's side, and that would destroy her.

now osamu didn't go into the relationship with an intention of using the reader's sister to get with her instead. he truly liked his girlfriend, possibly even loved her – in the beginning. he fought with the burgeoning attraction, which quickly gave way to obsession. he tried to convince himself that the feelings the reader brought out of him were a product of his happiness in his relationship with her sister, which is easy enough when they're spending near on every weekend together. ofc when she started drifting away and spending less time with him them, that became more difficult, and that's when the cracks started forming in his relationship.

the distance drives him nuts. dealing with a failing relationship without having her around to take the edge off drives him nuts. it gets to the point where he's fucking his fiancee and the only way he can get off is by closing his eyes and imagining that it's her moaning beneath him.

so yes, they're both aware that the reader – oblivious to the growing disconnect and with the best of intentions – is trying to give them space. unfortunately, her pulling away only drives a wedge further between the two of them.

as for how osamu would react to the news of a romantic partner, he's not going to be thrilled about it, but he also doesn't necessarily view it as competition either. some college punk ain't really gonna hold a candle to him – he's older, better looking, knows how to take care of her, plus, she's basically his anyway. has been for a long while.

he's not delusional delusional. he knows that the reader doesn't want this, but he's playing into her insecurities and fears. he's already planted the seeds of doubt and she's already on the edge after dealing with so much over the past few months. he's not going to give her another option – they're family, and she's always loved him. maybe not in the way he wants her to, but she can't pretend that there hasn't always been something between them, that connection that drew him in.