#What if he manages to find another man willing to share a room with him and he just decides to leave ours for me to use?

[oldmanlusting]

Okay gamers I need your help should I push for sharing a hotel room OR a cottage with my crush because apparently we might have Options

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part I

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you've been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month's time.

Ever since you were little, you found solace in poetry. Your mother highly encouraged your governess to have you read any and every poetry book that was ever made. The imagery and feelings it produced was something you never experienced before.

After your mother died, your father forbade you from reading poetry. He forbade you for ever mentioning your mother again. Their love was strong and true. As a result, it caused your father deep heartache. He became cold, heartless, and cruel. A drunkard and a gambler. Fortunately, his sister, your aunt, had moved in and became lady of the house. She became your mother figure, but she could only do so much.

She snuck you poetry books when she could. The words now being the only part of your mother you had to connect to.

Because of this love, you began to write poetry yourself. You only ever shared it to your aunt and friend, Kate Bridgerton nee Sharma, another lover of stories and poetry. Both having expressed their hopes of you publishing your writing some day.

"Maybe some day," you'd always say.

What they didn't know was that you did publish your poems. You went under a man's pseudonym, Arthur Talbot. His poetry books were becoming popular among the ton and it brought you joy and a sense of thrill whenever someone mentioned his name to you.

You'd recite your his poetry readings held at Lady Danbury's often. Everyone was always in awe of how the words poured out of you with intense and deep emotion.

But the one who was most taken with them and you, was none other than Benedict Bridgerton.

_______________________

The small group break out into applause and you curtsy. Lady Danbury walks up to you with a proud grin on her face, "Another splendid performance, Miss L/N. I can tell you deeply resonate with Talbot. "

You bow, "Thank you, Lady Danbury. His words mean a lot to me. It's as if he and I are one." You hold back a laugh as you express your gratitude to the hostess.

"Well, I think this calls for a break," the older woman turns to face her guests, "Everyone please enjoy some refreshments."

People begin to disperse, leaving the sitting room for other parts of the Danbury estate.

You're standing off to the side, watching those around you, when your dear friend, Benedict, approaches you. You smile wide at him, "Ben!"

"Another splendid performance, Miss L/N," he lifts his glass to you.

You chuckle, "Thank you. But I think Arthur Talbot deserves just as much praise. They're his words after all."

Benedict nods, "Yes, but you perform his words so beautifully."

You look away, feeling a heat crawl up your cheeks. Benedict clears his throat, "I take it you still have no marriage prospects since you haven't mentioned anyone courting you."

You look back up at him and snort, "Ben, this is my fourth year in society. I highly doubt I'll ever find a man willing to marry me at this point." You cast your eyes down to play with a thread on your skirt, "No one wants to be married to someone who has gambling drunkard father. Doesn't matter if he's a Lord or not."

"If my brother, Anthony, managed to find love and a wife, you will to, Y/N."

You scoff, "How dare you put me in the same category as Anthony."

"I agree," you turn to see said brother and Kate, approaching you, arm in arm, "You're much better than my husband," Kate says with a smirk.

"Still disgustingly in love, I see," you arch a playful look at your friend.

"Very much so, I'm afraid."

Anthony unhook his arm from Kate's and moves towards Benedict, "Come, brother. Let us let the ladies socialize." He takes Benedict's glass and downs it in a gulp.

The younger brother frowns, "I was drinking that."

"Then we shall grab another and drinks for the ladies," he pats his brother's shoulder and Benedict groans, following his brother out of the room.

You and Kate take a seat on the couch and catch up while the men grab drinks.

_____________________

"So, have you finally decided to court Miss L/N?" the eldest Bridgerton asks.

"We are friends, Anthony. Nothing more."

"So you don't love her anymore?" Anthony asks with a curious gaze, taking a sip of brandy.

"...I didn't say that. Besides, you originally didn't want me involved with her because of her father. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, well, we are the not the sins of our parents. Miss L/N is a lovely woman. She's smart, well-read, not to mention she laughs with you even when your jokes aren't funny."

Benedict's brows furrow, "I am funny!"

Anthony takes another sip of his drink and sighs, "What I mean to say is that I think you two would be a fine match. Besides, it's not like any other man is interested in her."

Benedict immediately clenches his jaw and takes a leering step towards his older brother, "Don't talk about her like that."

Stunned by the sudden change of his brother, Anthony takes a cautious step back, "I meant no harm, brother, but is it not true? It's been years since she's stepped into society and very few men have made an effort to court her."

Benedict lets out a deep breath and apologizes, "I'm sorry."

Anthony clears his throat, "All I'm saying is that you've had several chances to be with her. If you don't take the opportunity, you may lose her."

_________________________

"I apologize for missing another one of your recitals," Kate says, grabbing your hand and intertwining her fingers with yours. Ever since she married Anthony, you two have become acquainted due to your paths crossing whenever you came to see Benedict.

You shrug, "You've heard it all before, Kate. Just another one of Talbot's poems."

"You're quite smitten with this poet, it seems."

You laugh, "I can't help it! His words are as if he speaks to my soul!"

"Maybe I should write to this Talbot and see if he'd like to ever attend a Bridgerton ball."

You shake your head, "Oh no. Please, don't. People say never to meet your heroes, so I don't think I would want to meet him."

Kate shrugs, "As you wish."

Anthony and Benedict come back with drinks in hand. Anthony hands Kate a glass and Benedict hands you one.

"Thank you, Ben," you give him a grateful smile and he smiles back, "Of course."

He sits in the chair beside you and you two fall into discussion about the poem you recited, all the while Kate and Anthony give each other knowing looks.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

clearly the only solution to the penpal au is you’re supposed to write to ghost but the entire task force hijacks the letters every once in a while. /hj /lh

Price also ends up doing that too once he realizes why the entire team becomes obsessed with writing letters

DUDE YES *smooches your brain*

Simon starts writing to you through a military penpal program Price had all of them in. Ofc, like the rat bastard he is, he drags his fuckin feet on it. Eventually, you manage to get him a little more willing to write back and it seems like he even looks forward to it. He's the first one to grab his letter from the container when they come. He claims it's to get it over with, but the other guys know better.

You'd think the other guys would be the ones more open to their penpals but NO. They managed to be paired with some of, who they call, the most boring people they could have met. Hell, even Price began to drag his feet after the 2nd letter back.

Simon seems to be the only one actually enjoying his exchanges, even if he tries to hide it. Johnny's the first one to get curious, wanting to know what the LT's got that's good enough to loosen the stick in his ass.

While Simon's out of the room, Johnny reads through the first couple letters Simon received. Your sweet words, stupid jokes, and genuine care are a stark contrast from the uninterested and short words he received from his penpal.

He stops writing to his penpal, not that they noticed/ cared, and grew the balls to write you one. He claimed his penpal dropped out, so they had to make do, not that you minded. And God, when you started to write back, he swore it was like he was a schoolboy all over again. Getting excited for the letters, heart racing as he reads your carefully written words, counting down the days till he gets another.

He gets ballsy one night and opens up to Gaz about what he did, not showing a single crumb of remorse. Tells him all about how sweet you are, how you show genuine care for his safety, even giving the idea of sending a care package. He could see that same thought process going through Kyle's mind, contemplating switching to you. He gave Kyle your address and told him to just come up with an excuse.

Now Kyle's a little smarter than Johnny, knowing that if Ghost finds out he's probably fucked. However, at the end of the day, he's a lonely man. He had this sweet thing like you just within reach and he's supposed to not take it? Yeah right.

He gave the same excuse Johnny did, claiming his penpal's schedule became too busy to write back, and just like that you had 3 soldiers wrapped around your finger. He sweet talked you, gave little puns here and there, really became like a lap cat. He wasn't as forward as Johnny and not as refrained as Simon. He gave you music recommendations when you say you like a certain genre, he gave you book recommendations, even sent you photos of him in front of a helicopter (you begged for it when he told you about him falling out).

Now, Simon isn't stupid. He isn't clueless. He noticed that the first couple letters went missing. Then he noticed Johnny being more eager to write. Same with Kyle. He noticed how they seemed to pull away from him when the topic was brought up. He's not a stupid man.

He might even be considered generous (don't say it to his face though, he'll take it as sarcasm). He knows the boys are talking to his penpal, but he'll be kind enough to share. His sweet lil thing. If you can keep up, that is. Your letters seem to boost morale and bring a small light that wasn't there before. They're all hard-working men, risking their lives to keep the world clean. They deserve this, don't they?

Even Price finds himself wanting in on it. If you can manage to bring Simon happiness (again, he won't admit it) and keep the other boys happy, surely you can take on one more. He sends you a letter, as their captain, and thanks you for what you've done. You're such a kind soul for giving these men some hope in their lives (laying it on thick, gotta keep em interested) and how much you've helped their performances.

They all write to you, their unofficial 141 penpal, and it works surprisingly well. The lines begin to blur a bit on being platonic and something else, but it'll be sorted out eventually. For now you're just theirs (Simon came around to it once he realized you had plenty of love to go around). You're the 141's, even if you don't fully understand what that means.

The first picture they send to you, around Christmas^ (I can't find the artist, please tag them if you know who it is)

[gredandforgeweatherby]

A Shared Joint

Theo Nott x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, weed consumption, swearing, making out, brooding?reader (it’ll make sense), Google translated Italian

A/N: Italian!Theo always‼️(accent🤩) ((this man is so hot)), not specified what house you are in.

The Slytherin common room was packed to the brim, mostly with slytherin and ravenclaws, though you could spot some Hufflepuffs and the occasion Gryffindor. The lights were low, music blaring through the speakers as students danced, drank, and talked all around you. Every corner of the room seemed to have a couple making out and groping each other, and smoke from cigarettes and joints hung low in the air.

You didn’t want to be at this party. You would’ve much preferred drinking with your friends in one of your dorms as you normally would. Instead your best friend wanted to come to slytherin’s party that night, and you didn’t want her to go alone. So that’s how you found yourself where you were now; sat on the large couch in the center or the room, one arm propped on the arm of the couch, your head resting upon it with an uninterested look etched on your face.

You watched as your friend danced with some kid in your year, both clearly intoxicated. You had taken a couple of shots and had currently been nursing a drink for the last hour and were entirely too sober for this. The room was hot, the amount of people only exasperating that, the pounding in your head had begun to match the pounding of the music, and you were tired. You wanted to leave, but you knew your friend didn’t. She was having the time of her life dancing with… Berkshire? You weren’t sure. All you know was that she had a smile on her face, so you were more than willing to wait out this boring party for her.

It was only a few minutes later, though it felt like another hour had passed, when you felt the couch dip next to you. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you turn your head to the side to be met with Theodore Nott’s profile. He was staring ahead, his eyes low and his mouth straight as usual. He held a drink in one of his hands, and as he leaned his head on the back of the couch, you spotted a joint resting behind his ear. He was dressed as he always was: smart pants paired with a (probably) expensive button up, the first few buttons undone.

You turned your attention back in front of you, your gaze searching for your friend. She was still dancing with the same kid, though now with considerably more groping and tension. At least one of us is enjoying ourselves, you thought. Surveying the room, it seemed the only two people not on their feet were you and Nott, which made you feel a bit out of place. You weren’t able to linger on that feeling for long though.

“At least I know I’m not the only one who’d rather be anywhere else.” Theo broke the silence between you two. His accent made it a bit harder to understand him under the loud music, but you surpassingly managed.

You turned your head to your right, making eye contact as his head was already tilted toward you. You had to admit, Theodore Nott was attractive. More than that, he was hot. His eyes bore into yours, his stare making you feel as if he seeing straight into your soul.

Breaking eye contact, you huffed out a chuckle.

“I’m only here because my friend wanted to come.”

“Ah,” a half smile-half smirk crossed his face, “being a good friend and not leaving her to come on her own I assume?”

You nodded in response.

He turned his head back straight, breathing out a barely audible sigh.

“Only here ‘cause it’s your common room I assume? Can’t really escape these idiots can you?” You turned back to him to once again be met with the side of his face. He didn’t respond right away, which made you think he was ignoring you, before he sighed.

“My friends like to throw these parties. I find it fucking annoying to have to clean up after everyone the next morning. Too much work sai?”

You nodded. “Thats understandable. Merlin knows I wouldn’t want to do that shit.”

Theo chuckled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying bella.”

You raised your eyebrows in response and turned back towards the crowd. Out of your peripheral vision you could see Theo reach behind his ear for the joint. He rolled it in between his fingers for a few seconds before standing. He walked a bit, before stopping a step or two past the arm of the couch and turns his body towards you.

“Would you like to join?”

──────────────────────

Theo guided you out of the common room up a set of stairs out of the dungeons. The two of you were currently at one of the open windows of the castle, you sitting on the ledge and Theo leaning against it. He pulled a lighter from his pocket before handing you the joint.

“Ladies first of course.” He stated, that half smile-half smirk from earlier making another appearance. You huffed out a laugh and took the joint from his fingers, setting it between your lips, as he lit it for you.

You and Theo passed the joint between the two of you in a comfortable silence. For not having too much interaction with him all these years, it wasn’t awkward like one would have thought. This silence that lingered allowed you to observe Theo when he wasn’t paying attention. You had already admitted to yourself he was hot, everyone knew that, but you have never really seen that for yourself. Now, with a nice high, you were finally seeing for yourself that Theodore Nott was hot. Really hot. He took another hit off the joint before looking back to you, luckily giving you enough time to make it seem like you hadn’t been staring.

Theo offered you the joint and you took it, directing your glance upward as you rest your head against the wall, zoning out a bit. While you weren’t paying attention, he took it as a chance to do the same you have been doing seconds prior, unbeknownst to you. He had always thought you were attractive, he had seen you throughout all your years here. Seeing you tonight by yourself looking like you’d rather die than be at that party gave him the perfect opportunity to actually talk to you. He didn’t necessarily fancy you, you were someone who caught his eye several times, but he could definitely see that changing.

You finally zoned back in and could feel Theo’s eyes on you.

“You’re staring.”

He only breathed a small chuckle. “Am I?”

You locked eyes with him. “Yes.”

Theo kept your eye contact, not seeming embarrassed he was caught staring. Pushing off his arms that were on the ledge of the window, he turned his body to face you.

“What a shame,” his gaze flitted downward before meeting your eyes again. “una bella ragazza mi ha sorpreso a fissarlo.”

Though you weren’t quite sure what he said, you had to admit it was hot when he spoke in Italian. With his gaze still meeting yours, he moved again, this time shifting between your legs. Unconsciously, you opened them a bit wider for him. His hand ghosted over your thigh, a feather light touch almost sending shivers down your spine.

“You shouldn’t stare. It is rude after all.” You replied lamely after realizing you hadn’t responded yet. One side of his mouth tilts up in a half smile.

“Scusa.” He muttered, rolling his lips in to wet them. “Didn’t mean to be rude.” He moved his hand up a bit further, making sure you were still okay with the contact.

“If staring at you is rude would kissing you be rude too?” He asked, his eyes boring into your own.

Instead of responding verbally, you moved to put one of your hands on his face, and leaning in to kiss him.

He responded immediately, kissing you back with fervor. The hand on your thigh moved up even further while his other went to your jaw. You moved your other hand through his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. Theo released a light moan in response, his mouth opening enough for your tongue to slip inside. You scooted closer to him, most of your body hanging off the ledge of the window. Theo moved his hand up under your dress as his hand on your jaw pulled you closer. The two of you were breathing heavy, the kiss igniting a hunger for the other neither of you realized you had. The two of you continued to kiss until a distant bang caught your attention. Jumping away from him, you realized the bang came from the dungeons, and that someone had come out of the common room. Theo tired to chase your lips, using the hand on your jaw to try and pull you back to him when you heard someone quietly call your name.

“Shit,” you sighed. The only person at the party that would’ve been looking for you was your best friend, you could tell it was her the closer she got to you and Theo.

Theo lowered his hand from your jaw, letting it fall to your waist before moving away so you could get down.

“I guess you have to go.” He asked, though they way he said it made it seem like a statement.

“If she’s looking for me it probably means she’s ready to go, so.”

You finally got off the window ledge, Theo’s hands on your waist as you did. Before going back down to the dungeon, you turned to him. One hand on the back of his neck, you drew him into a quick kiss.

“We should continue tho sometime.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Anytime you want.” He nodded.

You gave him a small smile before slipping your hand off your next and bidding him goodbye.

“Ciao bella.” He called to you before you were out of earshot.

You turned back around, winking at him before disappearing down the stairs.

─────────────────────

I’m thinking of making a smutty part 2, so let me know if you would like that. Enjoy xx!

[fatuismooches]

No other reason for this other than me being self-indulgent and having some fun. Dottore and Fragile Reader of course.

Prime Dottore - About You:

"If you were expecting me to... gush about them and whatnot, then your expectations are nonsensical. I have nothing to share with you about them. I merely have three things to say. Do not get close to them, do not make them upset, and do not get in my way, regardless of what I have to do to make them better."

Omega - About You:

"...[Name]? Their time is far too valuable to be spent around the likes of you. Speaking of, have you seen them? ...You say they're with another segment now? A pity. It's a shame they're always swept away by the others. I could please them far more than anyone else in any matter. I suppose I will need to think of a way to retrieve them yet again."

Alpha (Akademiya) - About You:

"Do you know how many pens and pencils I've broken due to [Name]? Even centuries later they still find the need to debate me on certain topics, academic or not, challenge my research and thinking, and criticize my handwriting. Truly an annoyance. If only they were able to be with me a bit longer... What? They are annoying, but I still acknowledge that they have the traits of a true scholar. And their voice is still much more agreeable than the others I have to work with..."

Beta (Webttore) - About You:

"Hehe, what a loyal assistant they are. They can pick apart different parts and mechanics with ease. Much more competent than that man I disposed of a while ago, on that expedition... along with all the others. Unfortunately, I only have a limited amount of time with them. Really, is it so difficult to find someone with even a third of their ability? Actually, that is a foolish question. No one could ever hope to compare to them."

Delta - About You:

"They have an exceptional talent for pestering me at any given moment, somehow seeking me out wherever I am easily. If only they could put their mind into something more productive. Why do I not simply ignore them? Because they do not stop until they've gotten their desired results, just like me. I'd rather not prolong their prodding.

Zeta - About You:

"... As long as they are well, I need not know anything else. Their health is of utmost priority."

Zandy - About You:

"[Name]? Oh, they're the best, most nicest and fun grown-up ever! I'm never alone now that they're around! They're always willing to play with me and they always yell at the other segments when they're being mean. They're never scared at all... [Name] could probably beat Prime in a fight if they wanted. Hmm? But they can't even throw a punch? That doesn't matter! They're much stronger than you think - I've witnessed it many times."

Pierro - About You:

"When I first recruited Dottore from the desert and gave him his Harbinger position, one of the first things he did was set up a room to monitor [Name]'s condition. He did so for hundreds of years, creating numerous segments to help, and it ended up paying off. It is not my place to pry into his life, as long as he fulfills his duties as the Tsaritsa requests, but now that they're by his side again, he seems... never mind."

Capitano - About You:

"I once encountered them when they managed to sneak out of the lab. They were... intriguing and talkative. They weren't scared in the slightest and were more interested in how I managed to befriend all the creatures near me. They wanted... tips on how to convince the Doctor to let them have a pet. I don't think I was very helpful."

Columbina - About You:

"The Doctor is engrossed with his research, but the only thing he truly has a soft spot for is his dearest [Name]. He hides his feelings exceptionally well, but anyone who witnesses him around them can tell the difference. Don't tell him I said this though, you know how he'll act.~ But do tell [Name] this, they're sure to get flustered. ♪"

Arlecchino - About You:

"They have made attempts to get closer to me, but I'm afraid I have no interest in building a relationship with them. Still, I've always thought that their character would be similar to that of the Doctor, but from what I've seen of them, that does not seem to be the case. So, I do wonder if those two opposites truly get along."

Pulcinella - About You:

"I have seen many things in this long life of mine, so unlike many others, their relationship with Dottore does not surprise me too much. Still, they have much to learn if they feel the need to come and ask me for relationship advice. If you ask me, I believe that they don't truly know how much the Doctor values them, even if it is as clear as day."

Wanderer - About You:

"The Doctor's little pet? Every time I saw them, they were always scurrying behind one of the segments, as if they were attached by the hip. I don't know what transpired between the two of them for this relationship to happen, but out of all the people who associate with Dottore, they're bound to meet the nastiest end."

Sandrone - About You:

"The Doctor? [Name]? I have no care for either of them. I am much too busy with my own work to think about his worthless love life. However, I do suppose the idea is entertaining - Dottore being capable of love is as laughable as thinking an Automaton can learn to cherish another, and this [Name] person is equally as idiotic for believing so."

La Signora - About You:

"[Name], you say? I can't claim to know much about them. Everything I've heard is through the mouths of others, mostly from agents who talk more than what's good for them, but especially the Balladeer. What are they really like - a harmless and fragile sweetheart? A tool for the Doctor? His equally as heartless accomplice? Or all of the above? All I can say, however, is that it takes one to know one, right?"

Pantalone - About You:

"Ah, the little one. I am more than familiar with them, although Dottore would loathe to hear that. Did you know the Doctor is more prone to jealousy than you think? It is most amusing to see his ever-confident smirk fall once you get a bit too close to [Name]. I vividly remember the time when I said I would accompany [Name] to a ball instead, as he was too busy with his research. He never changed his mind as quickly as he did once I promised to dance with them."

Childe - About You:

“I’ve always thought Dottore was eccentric, and after meeting [Name], I can say they are equally as weird as him, solely for choosing him as their husband. Their personality is nothing like his either - they are bubbly, affectionate, and most of all… extremely weak. Traits that Dottore has no interest in. And yet the segments seem to fawn over them… I just don’t understand them. I just hope they know what they’re getting into.”

Furina - About You:

"Whenever I see them, [Name] always make sure to arrange a tea party with their own homemade Sumerian sweets! It is truly a delight. I admit, I am a bit jealous of their skill. It's as if they have the experience of a hundred years! But of course, that's impossible. Regardless, they are very kind, and they also seem to have a particular liking for romantic films... an odd thing for someone affiliated with the Fatui to like."

Nahida - About You:

"A raven and a sparrow - two beings that are surely bound to be apart from each other, but when it comes to the Doctor and [Name], it seems that even the impossible becomes possible. Though my feelings toward them will not change because of what they've done, I can't help but be interested. What lengths will the Outcast go to cure the one he holds dear, and would [Name] still be able to love him if he becomes more of a monster?"

[freakoont]

Can I request Ranpo and Dazai, Chuuya with Reader who has a lion as a pet? Like literal big lion who is really chill?

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭. 𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 // 【ＳＦＷ】 // 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! Check my request page for more !

A-NOTE: I'm sorry I'm taking forever to write on these🥲 writers block got me on a chokehold canon

❝Ranpo Edogawa❞

Okay. Let's be real for a moment. This man is flabbergasted at first.

Whether you're an agency member, a client, an enemy or a civilian, he will try to avoid all contact

Although he's very good at hiding the uncertainty

Now you might be wondering, well he's doing just fine with Atsushi's ability or Karl. THATS DIFFERENT

Karl isn't a terrorizing monster that can literally commit mass murder.. maybe.

And Atsushi's ability is under control

It takes him a longggg time to actually befriend you because he's literally done all the calculations and soon realized that one stupid comment and he'll probably be fed to the lion(⁠｡⁠���́⁠︿⁠•��⁠｡⁠)

So he's actually very careful around you, which everyone has noticed.

When he does manage to realize how much calmer of an animal the lion can be, he's calmed down a little more..

Eventually it will get to the point where he's completely fine with feeding it some random snacks he'll have

But understand. He will NEVER come into physical contact with the lion.

Yes he can trust Yosano with the outcome BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN HE WANTS IT TO HAPPEN IN THE FIRST PLACE

If you get into a romantic relationship with Ranpo, this won't change. He'll always have the lion sleep in another room

One night, in the middle of the night, the lion jumped onto your shared bed, and Ranpo legit wanted to cry but held it in

Do not leave this man alone in a room with your lion because he will legit flip out and ignore you for the rest of the day and won't forgive you(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)

❝Osamu Dazai❞

I'm convinced that this man was contemplating if he wanted his death to be at the hands of your animal

But immediately put down the idea at the thought of pain

I think he'd be fascinated by your lion, such a vicious and strong animal can also be very calm

Dazai tried to use the animal as a few pranks on Kunikida, it backfired since Kunikida already knew how calm the lion was

And the lion was probably just a litttttle too lazy to help with execution as it just laid there watching Dazai get beaten the crap out of him

He's not exactly scared of the animal but will keep distance

He's used to seeing so many terrifying things in the world that a lion is not going to be one of those 'running out of the room with it near' situations

He's also used to Atsushi and his ability so yeah

Now if he got into a relationship with you..

Imagine coming home to seeing your animal all dressed up with Dazai just being like "Welcome back!" as he runs at you with wide arms

"WHAT DID YOU DO-"

You don't know how to take the situation with Dazai and your animal. He's says he's not too interested in the lion and would rather keep distance but then you'll find him snoozing against the lion like a pillow

❝Chuuya Nakahara❞

I can imagine joining the Port Mafia and Chuuya is assigned to help you with introductions or something

"hey I'm here- WHAT THE FU-"

He's 100% caught off guard and stepping back

"THATS A LION"

"yes"

But he's also gained a lot of respect towards you for having it

Now it's not a dog, he knows that much, so he won't be dancing around it with a treat in his hand

After a while I think if you gained his friendship he'd be willing to watch over the animal while you're gone

ONLY. after he's realized how much chiller the pet can be out of actual work

He was honestly a little disappointed to find out it wouldn't pounce at people immediately and start tearing them apart.. but also greatful

One time you lost the little guy and found him sitting and just staring at Chuuya who was stuck on the ceiling trying to get away from the lion

Apparently it had a strong liking towards Chuuya? You can't figure out why.. was it his appearance or maybe aura?

In secret, Chuuya has researching about lions and feeding it so the little guy has gotten attached you could say

If a relationship is established, Chuuya definitely treats the lion as his own son in a way

#1 caretaker for humans and animals canon

[swappedandtrapped]

Rent Help - Part 1

Hey, first thing I'm posting here. Character consistency with AI is difficult for me, so just go with it.

It wasn't a good time in my life. The pandemic hit, making me unemployed. I stayed at home to avoid getting sick and with nothing to do I was starting to find any excuse to go out of my room. I was renting this flat with another guy I found on Craigslist, Roy.

Roy was my age, he moved in from some place outside the county a few years ago and we managed to stay out of each others' way. Maybe except a few times I heard his booming voice shout at the TV, cursing other players in some online game. He was also too comfortable in the house, taking off his shirt and staying like that even when guests came over.

Slowly, the world came back to order. The quarantines stopped, but I was still out of a job. I ended up searching for a long while. I was struggling and really tried to be frugal. Eating cheap, saving up, the usual. But my savings were about to run out.

I was desperate, and even though I felt bad doing so, I asked Roy if he could lend me the money for rent. Roy, to my disappointment, refused. He said he had really bad experiences with friends he lent money to, but never payed him back. I begged, said it was a sure thing, I was willing to do anything, sign contracts, whatever he wanted.

"Sorry man," He said. "You know how it is, I can't let my friends owe me money," He insisted. "But if you're willing to do something for me in return, I think we can still work something out." I was hesitant. "What do you mean? Like doing your laundry?" "Well. Sort of." He smiled. "Just make sure to be free this weekend so you could help me with that thing." It was either that or become homeless, so I jumped to hug him "Yes, of course! Anything! Thanks man!" "No worries. I'll give you the details Friday morning."

The week went by quick. I wasn't sure what he wanted, but I guessed it was just some house work or doing errands for him. He was straight, so anything sex related was out of the question. I relaxed and knew that I won't be kicked out of my place. At least this month.

…

Friday morning came, but my alarm didn't go off. I woke from the direct sunlight peaking through the window curtains when I knew that my window was facing west. But the first thing that I knew was wrong was the smell. Something smelled... Wrong... Like someone else's laundry. In my half-asleep state, I turned on my side to get my phone to check the time. Eyes still closed, I couldn't feel the phone on my nightstand. I opened my eyes to see where the hell was it, but my heart stopped when I first saw my hand.

It definitely wasn't my hand. Darker skin, hairier, and a bit bigger than mine. I saw it was attached to a foreign arm with the same features of the hand. Darker skin, more hair, and bigger than mine. I gasped in fright and used the hand and arm to take off the blanket and reveal what was underneath.

Not my body. This is definitely not my body. I was wearing only pajama shorts, which I never do. My chest was thick, heavy, and hairy. My gut spilling over its own weight. My legs wiggled with fat from my movement. Wait, is this… Roy's body? I touched my chin and felt the beard Roy had. I took a look up from my body and saw I was actually in his bed, which is also in his room. What the fuck happened to me? What is going on? I run to a mirror to see if my fear is true. All I saw was Roy, having the same expression of horror I had.

I screamed, only to quickly stop and cover my mouth. What the hell was this sound coming out of me? "Ahh, test, test." I tried to listen and realized I also heard Roy's voice coming my throat. MY throat! I couldn't escape it. I tried looking for a way out of this body, clawing my skin to find an opening, but all I did was hurt myself.

I was out of breath. I started to sweat. The world was spinning and I had to sit down. After crashing on the shared living room sofa, my heartbeat lowered to a normal pace, but I was still shocked. "What the fu-" I said, surprised again to hear Roy's accent through my teeth. Was this a dream? What the fuck is going on?

"Can you keep it down? It's barely 8 o'clock." a voice behind me said. My voice. My real voice. I looked up to see who I assumed was "Roy?". I stood up to face him. "I didn't think you'd wake up this early, but whatever, I guess we can do this now." "You… You knew about this?" I stammered. "Wait. Did YOU do this?!" "Don't make a big deal out of it man, I told you I'll needed you on Friday." "FOR WHAT!?" I shouted, with his booming voice. "For replacing you?!"

"Don't give yourself too much credit. It's just for this weekend.". He started getting ready to go out. "And I don't need you to replace me, I just needed to not be me for a bit." "WHAT THE FUCK ROY?!" I started getting out of breath again. Maybe even a low-key panic attack. "Why didn't you say anything about that? I thought I was just gonna clean your room or something!"

"I don't understand why you're so upset. You're getting free rent money for basically just sitting on your ass all day." "Because you TOOK MY BODY." "Don't be dramatic, it's just for the weekend. I'm borrowing it." He put on my coat on his way out. "Couldn't you tell me before? How did you even do this?"

"That's not important, I've had this thing since I was little." He started putting on my shoes and tying his shoelaces. Listen, if you don't want this, we can switch back now, but forget about the rent. I'm not giving out free money. It's your choice."

I started to form an insult, but quickly realized this might be my only option. And is being in Roy's body for a weekend really that bad?

"And this is just for the weekend?" "Yes." "And all I have to do is stay here?" "Or go out, I don't care. I just need your body." "But why?" "That's where the money comes in. Most of the pay is for you being discreet about this." The gears in my head turned. "What, like something illegal? Sex? Don't do weird shit in my body." "Nothing sketchy, I promise, but I really need to go. I'll be back tomorrow."

He closed the door after him, leaving me still shocked at the situation he got me into.

Thanks for reading. Part 2 out soon.

[samsno1]

Honesty

Sam Winchester x Reader

lmao, i'm sorry. this is kind of an au where instead of sam getting the trials...you do! haha......might make a second part to this but i'll see how it'll do. also, in this there isn't the stupid "sam doesn't look for dean in purgatory" because the writers were fucked up when they wrote that, respectfully (or not)

Summary: You finally have a chance to close the Gates of Hell, forever, but everything comes with a cost, the question is, are you willing to pay for it?

Warnings: ANGST, love confessions, sad sammy, kisses, reader sees bobby as a father figure, reader is shorter than Sam, NOT PROOF-READ, english is not my first language

WC: 3.7k

You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here

enjoy!

As you lie there, soaked in hellhound's blood, panting after a fight against the creature, the glasses you wore to be able to see it dirty and obstructing your view, Sam and Dean stare at you, frozen and horrified.

You knew they would try and talk you out of doing the trials, especially after Dean's words to both you and Sam before he went on to almost get killed by the hellhound. Of course you two had followed him, even if Dean explicitly said not to, and you ended up under the dog, his disgusting breath fanning on your face as he barked above you, trying to rip your neck off. You knifed it and it quite literally exploded over you, bathing you in his gooey substance.

Now, all of you were in a room, Dean pacing back and forth while Sam just stood with his head down. You had your arms crossed, your eyes accompanied Dean's movements. He was restless, probably angry and desperately trying to find a way to counter this.

“We can find another hellhound,” He argues “I kill it then it's all solved”

“Dean, Crowley will be even more on our asses over this, he will not let his dogs out of the leash” You say, calmly, trying to counter Dean's protectiveness in the lightest way possible. “I can do them”

After you said that Dean stopped pacing around and both him and Sam looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, almost as if you had just admitted to an unforgivable crime. The crime in the case was wanting to protect the brothers from these crazy trials. You knew how death followed them around like a plague and you couldn't handle losing them.

“No, Y/N, you're not doing these trials” Sam speaks up, a tinge of anger in his tone. Anger, worry. He looked at you, his hair casting a shadow over his face because of the poor lightning in the environment. “You could die”

“Well, too bad Sam” You said and the boys shared that look, a silent conversation between both of them, something that pissed you off in these moments because you had the right to know what they were plotting. “Look, I know you two feel like you have some responsibility over me, this…instinct to protect me ever since Bobby…” You trailed off, the memory of the man you considered to be your father still too heavy on you. Sam frowned and Dean changed his position, on edge. You cleared your throat, the sudden lump bothering you. “But I can protect myself, I can fight my own battles and, honestly? If we do close the gates of hell for good, which battles will be there to fight?” You say with a faint smile.

You look between both of them. They seemed deep in thought. Too deep and that worried you. You slowly walked towards Sam and when he took notice he stiffened up, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, his eyes taking in your rather dirty appearance. But still beautiful, he mentally stated.

Sam always thought you were the most incredible woman he ever met, invincible even, nothing could ever put you down and you could make everything work your way with your amazing mind and skills. And, obviously, your killer looks always managed to stun him every time, everywhere.

He was used to seeing you in any type of clothing, from suits and dresses to sweats and shirts with corny sayings written in the front, which you argued were comfortable. And you always looked absolutely gorgeous wearing anything. Sam used to think he just admired you, the looks from afar were just friendly appreciation, his yearn to be around you was just a protective instinct, the goosebumps on his skin when you’d touch him were just a natural reaction…

Until it wasn’t just. It was. And that was horrifying.

And it got worse when both you and him spent the last year alone looking for Dean and Cas. Spending so much time beside you made Sam realize what he truly felt towards you and he was scared. Scared to say anything and scared to lose you. So, when you killed that hellhound, his heart fell to his stomach because he knew you would want to do the trials. 

And when you stretched your hand to him, looking directly in his eyes, that determined gaze of yours slicing through his soul, he knew you would do anything to go along with this.

“Sam, give me the spell” You said firmly, not a request, a demand. He swallowed again, still speechless, still frozen, his fist tightening around the small paper which contained the words in enochian you were supposed to recite for the trials to start. You emphasize your demand by widening your eyes angrily and doing ‘come here’ motions with your stretched hand. “Sam”

“Y/N-”

“Dean.” You interrupt, anger seeping into your tone, making Dean shut his mouth into a thin line and a huff of air come out of his nose, just like a child would do when it was refused candy before dinner. He thought he’d seen you like this before, determined, practically unstoppable but boy was he wrong. You were more than insistent and that rang an alarm in Dean’s head. You knew that the one responsible for the trials could die and you were willingly going with it.

“Dean, can you give us a moment” Sam speaks up again and you quirk an eyebrow at him, looking between him and his brother. Sam looks at Dean, his pleading eyes and subtle nod giving enough information for Dean to get the message across. If there is one thing that can make you understand is honesty.

Dean slowly walks out of the room, giving you one last look that said clearly that you needed to listen with an open heart and mind to anything Sam would say. When he closed the door behind him, Sam’s eyes were already on you, trained on your features and you shifted your weight on your feet, his stare intimidating.

“So?” You said, trying to keep your ground. Sam sighed and lowered his head, considering all his options in the situation, he could tell you everything and be either rejected or accepted, he could lie to you, give you the wrong spell and work his way out like he always did and still keep you safe. Honesty. The word echoed in his mind like a chant.

He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, crossing with you and going towards the bed to sit down. Your whole body accompanied his movements, his long strides making the distance between the table and the bed shorter than it actually was.

Once sat he looked at you and then at the spot beside him on the bed, silently asking you to sit with him and you caved, obliging to him. Your feet were light on the floor, quiet, accustomed to being silent while being a hunter, as you walked to the bed. The hardness of the cushion was not too much of a bother but still kept you grounded. Don’t let your guard down.

After making yourself as comfortable as possible, sitting criss-crossed, you turned towards Sam who was with both his feet on the floor, staring at his hands drying his sweat on his jeans. You waited for him to travel inside his own mind, finding the words, the phrases, the honesty. 

Honesty. Honesty. Honesty.

You swam in your own thoughts, especially those in which Sam was included. And those were the few thousands of reasons you wanted to be the one doing the trials, not him, not Dean. In your time alone, Sam had opened up to you about his want to live a normal life, away from apocalypses, monsters, gods…White picket fence, the whole nine. Dean had wanted that too, hell maybe he wouldn’t let go completely of the hunting but at least he wouldn’t have to deal with demons on his ass, never ever again. You didn’t see yourself getting out.

You grew up in this, much like the boys, but to you was different. You liked it. The adrenaline was like a drug pumping through your veins everytime you killed an abomination and, honestly, family wasn’t your strongest trait. All those whom you considered family were cremated – just because…we don’t usually bury hunters, so you can’t say they are six-feet under. Your love life was most definitely inexistent, you didn’t have time for falling in love with anyone.

Until. You did.

Until you fell. And hard. Face first in a bag of nails because you knew it would be trouble falling in love with Sam Winchester. You were both unlucky when it came to that feeling, always losing, always sacrificing, always in a battle. But how could you not? He was a gentleman in full, kind, sweet, caring and at the same time deadly – no pun intended. He would protect those he cared for with his life, his sense of protection his greatest quality. He was so selfless sometimes it made you mad. You had told him once ‘Be selfish, just this one time!’ and even so he couldn’t. It wasn’t his nature.

Sam wanted out of this and you wouldn’t let him abandon that dream because of you. You weren’t worth his life, you told him once after following a lead on how to open the doors to Purgatory and pull Cas and Dean out that almost got both of you killed. You were crying as you drove him to the hospital, the blood on your hands staining the steering wheel.

He was pale, his hand weekly pressing over the wound on his stomach, his breathing shallow. When you told him that, he trained his tired eyes on your face and in a rough and tired voice told you to shut up. Shut it, jerk. And fainted.

At the hospital you stayed hours by his bed every day. The doctors had told you he would be okay, that thankfully no vital organs were damaged and when he woke up you hugged him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck desperately trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. His hands soothed you, rubbing your back up and down. You won’t get rid of me that easily, he had said and you laughed.

Ever since then you swore to yourself that you would guarantee that Sam wouldn’t put himself in danger for you anymore and you were not breaking that promise.

“Do you remember the night we met?” Sam spoke and you turned your eyes to his face, his hair shining against the yellow light and worry lines between his eyebrows.

“John had left you at Bobby’s and when I came back from school you scared the shit out of me. I had my gun in hand and everything until Bobby popped up, desperately trying to explain” You said, smiling at the memory. You were all so young back then, Sam was still shorter than you – which didn’t last long – and you had lost your parents a few months back.

“Ever since that night I knew you would be…something in the long run” You gave him a puzzled look and he laughed lightly at your face, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. “I knew you would turn out to be strong, brave and I knew you would end up being one of the most important people to me”

You smiled stupidly at that, your face heating up. You didn’t know what to say to him, your eyes drifting to your fingers over your lap because you couldn't keep his strong gaze. Sam sighed and considered his options, he could either hide his feelings for longer or be honest. Honesty, honesty. The word echoed through his mind like a mantra.

Sam reached his hand to wrap over one of yours, making your eyes shift from your hands to his face again. Physical touch wasn't uncommon between the both of you. Sleeping in the same bed when motels were full, sleeping on each other's shoulders, – more you than Sam given the height difference – hugs, cheek kisses, cuddling while watching movies. But something about this hand hold felt more intimate, like a wave of emotions were being poured over you like cold water. Sam squeezed your hand.

“I can't lose you” Sam said, his voice low because he knew that if he spoke any louder he could break.

“Sam–”

“Y/N. Please.” He begs, even if he doesn't know what he's begging for. Please, let me talk. Please, don't do the trials. Please, love me like I love you. “I can't lose you”

He repeats and you feel like you just got punched in the guts or like a knife went through your chest. He sounded so raw. Those four words meaning more than any poetry you've ever laid eyes upon. You squeeze his hand to ground yourself.

“Can't or won't?” You ask, voice weak.

“Both” He answers. “Both because I won't let you do this and can't because if I lose you I won't know how to keep going.”

You shake your head no, closing your eyes for a brief moment, your memories together flooding in again. His smile tattooed in your brain, his laugh playing over and over like a broken vinyl. You needed to do this.

“If I do this then that means you can finally have a life, a wife, kids…I can't let you lose this.” You say, tears welling up in your eyes. “And I need to do this for you, for Dean, for Charlie…Losing me is just a consequence for the greater good”

Now it's Sam who shakes his head, low breathy no's coming out of his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes watery and those stupid puppy dog eyes staring right into your soul, crushing your heart to pieces.

“You don't get it” He says “When I look into the future I can't imagine–” He takes a breath, considering whether to tell you or not. Fuck it. “I can't imagine it without you. The house, the kids running around, the dog…they're ours.” He stops for a moment, waiting to see if you caught what he meant but you just looked at him, wide beautiful eyes full of confusion.

“Sam what are you–”

“And you're the wife. My wife.” He says and he can see the realization come into your face, slowly. The way your jaw drops slightly, your shoulders tense and your hand squeezes his even harder. Sam swallows but now he can't back away. “So I can't let you do this because if you do it and die I won't be able to keep going because I love you, Y/N. I love you and even if you don't reciprocate I won't stop loving you. You're the first thing I think when I wake up and the last thing I think about once I fall asleep.” He keeps going, almost out of breath once he finishes, avoiding your eyes, avoiding rejection. “So, please, don't”

Don't do this, don't reject me, don't run.

“Sam, look at me” You say, one hand slowly grasping his cheek, your thumb drying a tear that he didn't know had fallen. Once he looked at you he saw you smiling. Smiling with teary eyes. “I love you, too”

You practically whispered and a feeling rushed into Sam's body. Like someone had shot him up with adrenaline and suddenly he was aware of everything around him, your warm hand on his cheek, your hand under his, the white noise of the animals outside. And his own heartbeat.

He closed the distance between the both of you, his lips finally touching yours in desperation. Pure and raw desperation. His hand went up your arm to your neck, gently pulling you more into him and yours slipped to tangle into his hair, running the soft locks through your fingers.

The kiss felt electric and it burned. Burned you from the inside out with the wave of a thousand emotions. Your head went back to those moments with Sam. Your mind was just completely him.

And it was the same for the Winchester.

He already had thoughts consisting mostly of you but now he felt in heaven, like in finally connected with whom he mostly desired, both physically and emotionally. His other hand slipped around your waist to pull yourself over him as he laid down on the bed.

You followed and slightly smiled into the kiss. Until you grounded yourself. Sam wouldn't let you do the trials, not now that you had confessed, not now that he knew you loved him too. So you had to take matters into your own hands.

As Sam laid you over him, you straddled his hips, the kiss continuing into an unexplained hunger and lust for each other. You sensually dragged your hand down his chest, earning a soft gasp out of him, both his hands tangling in your hair, messing up your curls.

Your hand that slid down his body discreetly went into his pocket, feeling for the paper with the spell written on it. You mentally apologized over and over to Sam, your mouth opening to let his tongue in to explore it, butterflies flying around in your stomach. He was gentle, caring but yet hungry and you could feel it.

I'm sorry. 

You pulled away breathless, the paper clutched in your hand and Sam looked at you through hooded eyes, his chest heaving with his heavy breaths and a confused frown on his face.

“I'm sorry Sammy” You said as you got off the bed and started to quickly pronounce the words in enochian, your hands trembling around the paper. Sam widened his eyes once he realized what you'd done, patting his pocket in reflex, knowing you had taken it out of there, and stubbled off the bed.

“Y/N, no, please!” He yelled but it was too late. Once you said the last word an almost unbearable pain cursed through your whole body, knocking you to your knees, a loud groan of pain leaving your throat.

Sam kneeled beside you with a hand on your back, mumbling curses and apologies to you but you couldn't hear him, the pain so strong it made your ears ring. You felt a burn, like you had injected lava into your veins, opening your eyes to see your arms shining. Everything was spinning and the only thing guaranteeing you that you were still alive was Sam's warm touch over your back.

After seconds of excruciating pain you felt it going down and saw your arms returning to their normal tone. You collapsed into Sam's arms and he made sure to hold you tightly, still mumbling apologies with his eyes glossy with tears.

“Why did you do this?” He repeated, over and over. He didn't know if he wanted to kill you or hug you so he decided for the latter. He hugged your frame, pressing your head against his chest with a trembling hand and giving light kisses over it.

His other hand pressed your back against him, making your whole body stay in contact with his. His knees hurt on the hard ground but nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. He felt helpless.

You opened your eyes to look up at him, a faint smile on your face. You lifted a hand up to his cheek and took a very good look at the handsome man you loved. He was crying but he always looked beautiful, no matter how.

At your touch he closed his eyes, guilt spreading through his body. He touched his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes until you spoke up.

“I did this because I love you” You said and he opened his mouth to protest. You gave him a look, saying you weren’t done. “I love you too much to see you die and I know you can keep going if I die, you are one of the strongest men I know. You’re smart, you’re brave and you went through so much that I can’t let you give it up because of me. And you know I would never, ever, let you take responsibility over this and I don’t want you to blame yourself, this was my choice”

“I can’t– I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry I got you into this, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you–” You stopped him with a kiss and he sighed sadly, his hands wrapping around you tighter as if you would disappear at any second. You felt horrible but at the same time relieved. Relieved that if anything happened, Sam would live.

“Don’t say that” You whisper against his lips. “Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault. This is on me.” You say as you pull slowly away to look into his eyes, the mix of colors hypnotizing you. You felt like you could see every ounce of his soul through those eyes and it was filled with sadness.

Sam was angry, not at you, at himself. The moment he saw the hellhound die above you, bathing you in its blood he knew it was over, that you wouldn’t back away but still he blamed himself. If I were quicker. If I were smarter. The words ran around in his brain. When he looked at you he saw yet another one of those he loved dead. Another corpse that hung over his shoulder.

“We can do this, I can do this. I’m strong enough” You said. Sam knew you were strong but this was beyond you. This was God and Demons and Heaven and Hell. This was biblical and nothing like the things you faced before. He was scared.

“I know you are but what if I’m not?” He asks and you wait for him to continue. “What if I’m not strong enough to let you go if it comes to it?”

“You’ll have to be. If not for yourself, for me. Keep going for me” You reply with a soft look and a slight smile that made Sam choke on a sob and smash his lips against yours.

This kiss was filled with different emotions. Sadness, grief and guilt were poured into it but yet so much love. So, so much.

You didn’t get a verbal answer from Sam but you got plenty of information from the kiss. I’ll try, for you.

And that was enough.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.

[world-of-aus]

Alway's There

Pairing: Bestfriend!Bucky x Bestfriend!Reader

Warnings: A teeny sprinkle of angst. Sweet moments with Bucky Barnes.

Author's Note: My possibly poor attempt at returning to writing? Back to the abyss i go!

Another failed date. 

You trudged the stairs up to your apartment, heels in one hand, your shared key in the other. The feeling of disappointment looming over you like a dark cloud with each step up the flight of stairs you took closer to your landing. 

The self-deprecating part of your mind wrapped its clawed hand around your throat ‘maybe it is you’ it whispered harshly into your ear. And with each failed date, try as you may to shake the feeling you were beginning to believe maybe it was. 

 Tonight? The straw that broke the camel's back. 

Forcing yourself up the last step your bare feet hit the wooden landing of your floor carrying you the rest of the distance to your apartment door. You stop a foot away from the pristine white door letting out a silent breath of air, your eyes slipping shut as you let the disappointment of the evening wash over you. 

Maybe it was time to take a break you thought as you willed the feeling away, you knew your family and friends meant well but you weren’t sure you could bear another let down. You were growing tired of putting in your all only to be met with less of the effort you put in.  

“The night’s still young,” you told yourself as you slid your house key into the door unlocking it “the couch and a glass of wine is calling your name you -” your words fail you, your steps halting at the open threshold, hand frozen on the door as you take in the sight before you. 

Bucky stands by the couch, popcorn bowl in hand, his eyes sincere, smile warm and comforting, “there’s a glass of wine on the table for you,” he speaks softly, “wasn’t sure what movie you would want for the night, but it is your night to choose, go get comfortable,” he adds with a tilt of his head to the hallway where your rooms are, “I’ll be waiting.” 

“How did you?” is all you can manage as you push the door shut. 

He shakes his head, smile tugging at his lips ever so slightly, “I was hoping I would be wrong and that I would have to eat all this popcorn by myself; I know how much you were looking forward to this date – just wanted to have something ready for you in case it hadn’t gone to plan.” 

Your heels fall to the floor with a thud as you close the distance between you and your best friend your arms going around his neck. The comforting weight of his arm against your back has you letting out a shaky breath, “thank you.” He presses his lips to the side of your head, “no need to thank me you would have done the same for me sweetheart, now go get in your pj’s and you can tell me all about it.” 

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed, “He might as well have just gone on a date with his secretary, what the hell was he thinking talking about another women the whole night!” 

“That’s exactly how I felt!” you groaned grabbing a handful of popcorn, “and apparently nothing because no matter how I tried to redirect our conversation it was always ‘oh she loves that,’ or ‘oh that’s her favorite too.’ or ‘Oh what do you think about this, she thinks this.’” You shake your head, picking at the popcorn in your hand, “I just don’t get it, like is it me? Is something wrong with me? This is the fifth failed date this month.” 

“Hey, c’mon now don’t say that,” he comforts, hand finding your leg, “if anything’s wrong it’s the guys you’re going on dates with not being able to see what’s right in front of them sweetheart.  Maybe it’s time you try a different approach, these meatheads just don’t seem to be cutting it, you need someone who’s going to see you.” 

You see me, you think, your heart pattering away in your chest as you take in the broad man sat on the couch with you, the sweet words he shares, the night he put together in case it all went wrong. Why couldn’t it have been him? Why couldn’t he be yours?  

He squeezes your leg, concern in his gaze, “hey, what’s wrong?” 

You shake your head the gloomy feeling threatening to return, now was not the time to think of your best friend. “Nothing B, m’just tired is all, I’m fine though, I promise.” 

You know he doesn’t believe you when he plucks the bowl from between you leaning forward to place the bowl on the coffee table. He’s opening his arms to you a moment later fingers wiggling you to come closer, “c’mere,” he beckons. 

“Buck,” you laugh, “I said I’m fine.” 

His hands are on you, “you’ve never been able to lie to me, come here,” he chuckles pulling until your moving, molding into his warm embrace. His head rests over yours, hands running along your back comfortingly.  

“I really am fine, I  just think it's time to put the idea of finding someone right now on the back burner,” you murmur melting further into his side, “ I’m honestly tired of disappointment after disappointment, the only time I’m not disappointed is once I get home, which again thank you,” you say leaning back slightly to meet his gaze, “you didn’t have to but it means so much that you did this – that you thought of me.” 

“You’ve done the same for me y/n, every failed date you were right here sitting, waiting with chips and a beer ready to hear all about my night. Even the ones I thought went well only to never hear from them again you were right here.” 

“I swear those women were blind as bats to pass you up.” 

His chuckle rumbles in his chest, “feelings mutual sweetheart.” 

Your head finds his shoulder, his head falling over yours once more, “Hey should we adopt a cat?” 

“Adopt a cat?” he questions. 

“Yeah, so we can get started early,” you muse, your joke landing as you feel his laugh rumble against your side. 

“Yeah, yeah let’s adopt a cat.” he states matter of factly. 

You nearly knock him in the chin with how fast you move back to look at him, “wait really? We can really adopt a cat?” you gleam eyes bright. 

He laughs at your excitement, “Yes y/n, it’s a date, we can go adopt a cat.” 

Your breath catches in your throat, “a date,” you say tasting the words on your tongue. You’re not sure what to make of the expression on his features, your heart not allowing you to get your hopes up in fear of getting hurt. 

“Yes, a date, and hey If I mess it up, which something tells me that’s a long shot, at least I’ll know exactly how to remedy it.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum, you would swear you were dreaming if it weren’t for his very vivid warmth plastered against your side. “I don’t think you’ll need to,” is what you manage to say, because there was no way he could mess up when he’s been picking up everyone else’s failure. 

His smile is warm, you’ve never ached to kiss him more, “give me a few dates then you can decide yeah?” 

“A few dates?” you question, smile mirroring his own. 

“Yeah, let me be your different approach.” 

You grow shy under the intense sincerity of his gaze, your head finding his shoulder, as you breathed him in. “I’d really like that B,” you whisper after a moment. 

“I promise this won’t change the number of cats we adopt.” 

That has a fully belly laugh erupting past your lips, Bucky following suit as he pulls you closer.  

And it was in that moment that you realized you might already love him. 

[zwolfgames]

Can we have more Yandere mha x child reader please 😁🙏

*Thank you for the request! I' unsure wether you wanted a continuation of the original two parts or a new one. This one us a continuation but I was fairly out of ideas so I hope this is alright. If you did mean a totally new concept then I'll be happy to write that too :3)

Requested: Annon

Warnings: Kinda child abuse but not in a violence or sexual way. Manipulation. Incorrect lore. Binding. Yandere.

(3rd person PoV)

Y/N. The one kid know to have escaped the league of villains.

But what no one told the news, was that you were also the one kid to escape all of class 1A. A class of pshyco's.

Now that you look back at it. You had been naive.

Trusting these heroes. Just for them to use you as a doll, as a baby to coddle because they felt bad. Because they needed it.

But no one ever asked you... no one.It had been another two long years now.

Your body had finally been allowed to age without Eri being there to revert you, even if she was willing or not. You still weren't sure if that child had been in the same situation as you... But you didn't have time to look back.

Not when they were hunting you.

Now that some war between villains and hero's was around the corner. The searches became more intense. You'd catch Bakugo not two alleys down from you.

See Tokoyami and Hawks patrol from above.

Allmight had been caught in disguise just yesterday.

They were closing in on you.

You had only gotten away up untill now by cuttibg your hair differently. Wearing baggy... stolen.. clothes and caking dirt all over your face.

But what had to be done had to be done.

It's not like the villains left you alone either.

Altough, with the criminal circkles you had affiliated in, as was totally allowed for a 10 year old... you had heard of them trying to find you.

And you know... for someone's whos mentally just 12, that was scary.So you had trained yourself to fight a bit... Wich wouldn't do a lot against grown adults... but the tought was nice.

It's not like your quirk would be of any help. Crying pearls only helped you get by. And thats it...

But naturally, a story couldn't go on with it's main character living peacefully.

As you were napping on your little cleaned up dumpster of a home, you got knocked out of it as the whole plastic container got kicked to it's side.

An all too exited Kirishima came running to grab you off of the floor.You rolled out of the way. Kicking over some cardboard to slow him down as you sprinted away.

The boy just used his quirk to smash trough any and all obstacles. He had one goal in mind. And that is to take their shared sibling back.

Sibling was a better title then your actual role was. You're more of an emotional support pet....

Just as you think you'd still manage to get away from Kirishama, a tendril of grey scarf wraps firmly around you.

You're snatched up and quickly find yourself trapped in someones arms.

The man didn't even want to talk right now. He had gotten way too attached to you. A little kid with barely any power. Those kind of people is what he vowed to protect.

And even tough it seemed like you didn't want anything to do with him or other hero's. Aizawa was sure you'd understand that you needed the protection when the war began.

That you'd need a parental figure-He means... that he'd be available if you ever needed... guidance.

So in no time were you back to U.A.. Wrists bound like an animal.

You didn't like these people anymore...

They made you feel weak, useless...

Not human.

Just a plaything...

You were once again reverted back to an 8 year old and this time, kept in a diffrent room.

"So, like I said, you'll be sleeping in my room now, alright kiddo? I promise this is just for your safety. See, we even set up your own little bed. Yaorozu even made you a plush of your favorite dinosaur. And well... Koda.. tried to do that aswell- but- nevermind." Aizawa explained as he showed you your... incredibly cozy bed. Tough having to sleep in the same room as the guy that had essentially brought you into this mess..

Not your favourite.

"Don't look so depressed kid. It could be way worse. The villains could have killed you by now. You really shouldn't have run from us. We're just keeping you safe." Aizawa sighs and rubs your now messily cut hair.

You just huff in the little defiance you had left.

How dare he try and say that the villains who just as much wanted you back were trying to kill you?

Did he think you were stupid?

Probably.

Actually, undoubtedly.

They must all think that, that the slightest gust of wind would blow you away.

What did even see in you? Just a child?

No one would go this far for just a child...But you were their child. Group effort. Class project.

That was you. A responsibility they took way too seriously.

You still yearn for the reality where you could have just been delivered to an orphanage. Gotten an actual normal family.

A mom and a dad... or a mom and a mom... or a dad and a da- okay look you just didn't care as long as it wasn't this...

"Look, and we got you even more toys. And Midoriya mentioned that you liked to draw? Right? So only the best supplies for our little hero." Aizawa tries to smile.

You didn't know wether he was the only one that actually noticed how wrong this all was... he knew... but he couldn't give you up... give you away.

He never intended for this... but his class had also gotten attached... he wasn't alone in this... And that sucked for you.

Because escape attempt after escape attempt just ended up as you getting more stuck.

Ankle chain, gps tracker, locked doors, barred windows, constant surveillance.

How is no one saying anything against this? Why is this just being allowed?

Why did the freedom rule not count for you?

Where is the law?

Nowhere.

Not for you.

Its never been there for you.

And honestly, that hurt.

Why didn't anyone help you?

Why weren't you saved?

You littarly live with hero's and you're the victim.

This isn't okay...

And you couldn't do anything about it.

So you broke.

Going from defiant child to broken toy in days. Rotting in your extremly comfrotable bed like a depressed teenager.

Wich techically you could almost classify for mentally. Just half a year more.

Getting dragged out of your bed to be passes around like a plushy for movie nights was common now.

The students were getting more nervous too with the upcoming war.

Ochako coddled you more.

Deku had been teaching you about all his quirk knowledge as if he was scared he's die.

Aizawa was fixing up more safety manners.

Hawks had been coming over to babysit during actual hero school lessons.

Wich was even more awkard.

"Hey kid, smile."

"Y/N, can you draw me?"

"You're so cute Y/N, why don't i just take you with me instead? Im sure they wouldn't mind."

"Kiddo, want to go shopping?"

"Y/N."

"Kid."

"Kid..."

You were not a kid...

Stop it.

Why can't they leave you alone.

So you cried. Embarrassingly so in Hawk's presence. Pearls fell from your eyes and the pro hero looked on in awe.

Cupping your cheeks and whispering sweet words to try and comfort you.

Wrapping his wings around you and patting your head.

And dammit if you didn't hate all of them you would have loved this.

But after this... there really wasn't any escape.

War was spent in a bunker.

The survivors clung to you for dear life after the events and you just had to sit trough it like the good doll you were.

Smile and wave Y/N.

You weren't ever free.

And you never will be.

[steddieas-shegoes]

deep penetration up the field

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'sports au' rated e wc: 992 tags: secret relationship, football player steve, musician eddie, dirty talk, phone sex (in the loosest sense of the term), masturbation

first, a huge shout out to @thefreakandthehair for basically coming up with the commentator's lines at the beginning of this drabble. and for encouraging me when it comes to a sport that isn't hockey. hope this is a very tasty meal for you 💖

and a thank you to the love of my life in another life @wormdebut, who may or may not have written a part two to this already because neither of us were satisfied with the level of tendernasty kinky shit they got up to here.

“Why are you watching the game? We are anti-football in this home,” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest as he took in what Gareth and Jeff had put on the tv.

“As if you don’t have the world’s most embarrassing crush on Harrington,” Gareth snorted.

“I don’t, actually,” Eddie said, distracted as he watched the man himself on the screen.

“Those tight ends, especially Harrington, they’re skilled at finding the holes and getting that deep penetration up the field,” an announcer said.

“Exactly, Mark. You need a tight end that can play both ways confidently, that’s what sets this team apart,” another announcer said.

Eddie barely bit back a laugh as they focused in on Steve’s face before the snap.

Eddie could just barely see the edge of a hickey on his neck and felt his heart stop.

“Looks like Harrington has no trouble finding willing women,” Jeff nudged Eddie as he left the room to get another beer from the fridge.

He secretly liked football, and probably worshiped the ground Steve walked on as he was most of the reason the Colts had been having an undefeated season so far.

Gareth, however, couldn’t stand any event with a ball, and would judge the hell out of Jeff if he found out he was watching for any other reason than to make fun.

Eddie watched as Steve got a touchdown, something he’d been doing in almost every game this season, doing his stupid dance in the end zone. 

Eddie hid a fond smile when he pretended to play air guitar and pointed at the camera that was focused in on him.

He could feel the heat on his face, knew he needed to get out of the room, but just as he turned to go, Jeff came back in and saw him.

“Are you getting sick, Ed?” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“Nope. Just gonna go finish packing!”

He rushed to his bedroom, closing the door and sliding down until he was sitting on the floor with his head against his knees.

They talked about telling the guys when they meet up in Chicago in two weeks. The Colts play the Bears and Eddie plays The Riviera.

But the more Eddie thought about what that would mean, that it would make it real, the more he wanted to wait.

Not because he wasn’t sure about Steve. Never because he wasn’t head over heels in love with him.

Because Steve came out of nowhere, a stereotypical jock in every way on the surface, an overwhelmingly adoring and adorable sweetheart the moment he was alone with Eddie. It was easy to fall in love with him.

And it happened fast.

One moment they were making it out backstage in a closet, the next Steve was whispering how much he loved him in their shared hotel bed the night before pre-season started.

Now, they secretly met up when they could until they could figure out how to tell the people that mattered.

Eddie would have to be more careful about the hickeys he left, though.

He managed to pick himself up and actually work on packing for Corroded Coffin’s Midwest tour, but couldn’t help smiling to himself when he heard Jeff yelling excitedly about Steve managing to block three guys for his team to get another touchdown.

When his cell phone rang an hour later, he rushed to pick it up, already knowing who it would be before checking the screen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he sat on the edge of his bed as he spoke.

“Hey, baby. Doing okay?” Steve’s voice was still slightly out of breath, like he’d just ran off the field and called Eddie before anything else.

“I’m good. Are you?”

“Great. We won. I think if we keep it up, we’ll be favored to make the Super Bowl.”

Eddie’s brows raised.

He didn’t really like football, but everyone knew how big of a deal the Super Bowl was. 

“That’s great, Stevie. You heading back to the hotel now or going out with the guys?” 

“I’m hiding in the bathroom, we just got off the field. Think I’m gonna head to the hotel, though. Don’t really feel like going out.”

Eddie smiled to himself.

“Call me when you get settled?”

“Just to hear my voice or for other reasons?” 

Eddie could hear the smirk in Steve’s voice, felt himself start to smirk at the thought of what they could do on the phone later.

“You know I love hearing your voice, but I also love hearing you whine and beg,” Eddie’s voice dropped lower, more of a growl.

“Eddie.”

Steve sounded breathless, almost like when he…

“Are you touching yourself? In uniform?” He told Eddie he didn’t like to risk messing up the uniform, it was sacred, blah blah blah. But Eddie knew exactly where his hand was right now.

“Mhm,” Steve whimpered.

“Jesus Christ, Stevie. Can’t even wait until you get to the hotel? What if someone walks in?” Eddie knew what would happen if he kept talking like this, especially when he could hear the faint movements of Steve’s hand working his cock.

“Don’t care. Need you,” Steve gasped out, ending his words on a groan.

Eddie was hard, but refused to touch himself now, knew he’d be miserable if Steve had to suddenly stop and he didn’t get off.

“What do you think I’d do? You think I’d get on my knees in the locker room, suck you off in front of everyone?” Eddie shook his head when he heard Steve’s breath catch, slick noises getting louder. “Or would you wanna wait until everyone leaves so no one sees you begging to suck me off before I’ve even gotten your cum down my throat?” 

“Please,” Steve begged.

Eddie smirked.

“Go ahead, sweet boy. Make a mess.”

Steve bit back a loud moan as he came, panting into the phone as Eddie talked him through it.

“Later?” Steve asked.

“You’re insatiable.”

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (part 19) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 7.9k

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649

@luffysprincess @cryptidghostgirl @beekeepingageissome

@hufflepuff-16 @lukepattersin @jay-is-a-pinguin @le-clair-de-lune @theravenphoenix26

Kaz arrived home to find Y/N and one of her friends in an intricate position on the carpet. “What are you doing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yoga and talking about dick,” Y/N replied with a smirk, making her friend giggle.

“Of course you are,” he sighed.

“Kiss?” she asked, looking up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. Kaz looked at her, noting she was half upside down with no easy way to reach her without inappropriately touching her friend. “Maybe later.”

He retreated to the kitchen, listening to their explicit conversation drift in from the living room. As he poured himself a drink, he heard bits of their chat.

“Wait, the one with the mustache?” her friend asked.

“Exactly, he likes when you do nothing, just lay there,” Y/N responded.

“Really? Why did you keep him until now?”

“Are you kidding? I even squeezed naps in between whatever he thinks he’s doing, he always takes hours to finish.”

Kaz’s mind wandered, pondering if she ever discussed him like that when he was her client, imagining her saying  to her roommates that he just wanted to hold her hand and didn't even manage to do that very well. He sighed, knowing that it happened for sure.

“Fine, I’ll take him,” her friend sighed. “But why are you leaving me that lawyer too? You always said he’s really good.”

“I guess now I have someone else that fucks me just right,” laughed Y/N, joined by her friend.

Kaz stopped mid-sip, taken aback. He wasn’t sure if that conversation was meant for him to hear or not. He couldn’t hide a proud smile; he still struggled with the thought of not being enough for her, and that was another reassurance he needed. Her words echoed in his mind, giving him a sense of validation that his efforts were truly appreciated. As he listened to Y/N continue her conversation with her friend, Kaz felt a surge of protectiveness and affection. He wanted to be the one who fulfilled her needs in every aspect of their lives together. The idea that she was willing to adjust her professional boundaries for their relationship was both humbling and gratifying.

“Is he that good?” asked the friend in a conspiratorial tone.

“Oh, he is, and he's a really fast learner.”

“Well, with a teacher like you…”

The girls kept laughing, and Kaz heard them shifting positions. He couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at Y/N's words. Despite his confidence in most aspects of his life, he still harbored insecurities, given her experience. Hearing her praise meant more to him than he could easily express.

“Can I try him?”

“No way, I’m not leaving him in your dirty hands” replied Y/N.

“Your hands are dirtier than mine,” laughed the other girl.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend,” pointed out Y/N.

“So you are jealous.” 

“No, I'm not,” protested Y/N.

“Ask him then.”

He heard her sigh, “Kaz! Do you want to have a threesome with us?”

Kaz paused, considering it. His mind raced through the implications and possibilities. On one hand, he knew Y/N liked to push boundaries and explore new experiences, and he wanted to support her in that. On the other hand, he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about being shared between the two girls. He decided to play along, if only to see where it might lead. “Sure,” he replied with a smirk.

He heard the noise of the girls falling on the ground, clearly taken aback by his response. A moment later, Y/N peeked into the kitchen, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Really?” she asked, clearly not expecting him to agree.

“No, love,” Kaz laughed at her expectant face, “not yet,” he winked.

Y/N made an amused face before returning to her friend. She always left hints, more or less direct, about what she wanted to try with him, but never made him feel pressured about them. It was one of the things he appreciated most about her—her willingness to explore and communicate without forcing him into anything he wasn’t ready for.

Kaz couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she was leaving some of her clients, which was unexpected. A small smile tugged at his lips at the implications of that. It meant she was slowly shifting her priorities, and he liked to think it was because of him.

“I've been asked to babysit tonight. I was thinking of bringing her here. Is it a problem?” Y/N asked.

“No, it's fine. I have some work to finish,” Kaz replied, his mind already shifting to the tasks at hand.

“Shower?” she asked with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Shower,” he replied, letting her take his hand and guide him to the bathroom. They had purposefully chosen a really big shower to be able to share it comfortably. Kaz was feeling more and more comfortable with the contact with wet skin. He had stopped panicking when their fingers brushed while passing things, but they still hadn't gone much further than accidental brushes.

As the warm water cascaded over them, Y/N turned to him with a teasing smile. “Do you know who asked me out?”

“Tell me,” Kaz said, intrigued.

“Pekka Rollins.”

The bottle of body wash Kaz was holding slipped from his grip, crashing onto Y/N’s foot with a dull thud. She yelped in pain, reflexively grabbing his arm to steady herself.

“Kaz, fuck, that hurt,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with pain and surprise.

The sudden contact sent an involuntary shiver through Kaz, his body tensing. He took a long breath, fighting against the surge of instinctual panic that urged him to shove her away. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He didn't want to hurt her, but her touch was a stark reminder of his ongoing struggle with physical contact.

“Y/N, please let me go,” he muttered under his breath, his voice strained but controlled.

“Sorry, sorry,” she quickly apologized, releasing his arm and stepping back. Her eyes were wide with concern and regret, the pain in her foot momentarily forgotten.

Kaz’s heart pounded as he watched her, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. He hated how his past still had such a grip on him, how it could intrude on moments like these. He took another deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. 

“Pekka Rollins?” he repeated, trying to focus on the issue at hand. He turned off the water, the warmth of the shower suddenly feeling too overwhelming.

“Yeah, can you believe it? I said no, of course,” Y/N replied, her voice softening as she wrapped herself in a towel, her eyes never leaving his face.

Kaz stepped out of the shower, his thoughts racing. The implication of his attempt to ask Y/N on a date sent a fresh wave of anxiety through him. Was it a coincidence, or was it a deliberate move? He needed to know more. Maybe it was time to be more public about their relationship, to send a clear message. Or the opposite? Should they keep it even more private?

“Baby, are you okay?” Y/N asked, her concern evident as she moved closer, her hand gently touching his arm.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, his voice distant. His mind was still processing the implications, the potential threats.

“Kaz, even if you didn't have history with him, and we weren’t together, I would have never said yes to him, he’s creepy.”

“I know, I know,” Kaz said, leaning on the sink. He looked at his reflection, seeing the tension etched on his face. Turning back to her, he asked, “Why are you leaving some clients?”

Y/N made a small smile, a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “I don't know, just felt like it.”

Kaz hummed, stepping closer to her, needing to understand her reasoning. “Are you sure you don't know?” He reached out, his hand gently cupping her cheek. He liked seeing her trying to stay vague about her intentions, but he needed clarity.

“Oh you know, I was making too much money, didn't want to make you feel bad,” she chuckled, and Kaz knew better than to push further.

A few hours later, they found themselves on the couch, Kaz typing rapidly on his laptop while Y/N and the little girl were engrossed in a Disney movie. The soft glow of the screen illuminated their faces, Y/N’s arm wrapped protectively around the toddler as she watched with wide-eyed fascination. Every now and then, Y/N would lean in, whisper something funny into the girl's ear, earning a burst of giggles that filled the room with warmth.

Kaz kept stealing glances at them, his fingers slowing on the keys as he observed the peaceful scene. They looked so comfortable, nestled together like that, and the thought hit him—Could this be his life? Evenings spent on the couch, kids’ movies playing in the background, worrying about bedtimes, schools, and being present. Being a father.

The notion unsettled him, not because he didn’t want it, but because it was something he never thought he could be. A father. The idea felt foreign, like trying on a coat that didn’t quite fit yet. How could he, with his past, teach someone how to be a good person? How could he be a role model when his life had been so full of darkness, crime, and survival at any cost?

But then, as he glanced over at Y/N, gently stroking the girl's hair as she drifted off to sleep, Kaz felt a flicker of hope. He had overcome so many obstacles he once thought impossible. He had built a life, brick by painful brick, out of ruins. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this too. Not alone—but with Y/N by his side, they could figure it out. Together.

Sensing his gaze, Y/N looked up, her eyes softening as she smiled at him. It was the kind of smile that made him feel grounded, like he could take on the world if she was with him. Kaz smiled back, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a way that was still new for him. He tried to refocus on the deal in front of him, but his mind kept drifting back to the two of them.

Before thinking about kids, he needed to get one important thing done—proposing to Y/N. He hadn’t yet decided if he should pop the question on a random day, catching her off guard, or plan something more elaborate, like a weekend abroad where they could be alone, away from the weight of the city and his business.

Then there was the wedding. He didn’t want to rush her into anything. They’d take their time, make it theirs. After that, he would have to start extricating himself from the darker, shadier parts of his dealings. He couldn’t bring a child into the world with all that still hanging over his head. But the idea of a future—their future—was something he hadn’t imagined possible until now.

Kaz shook his head slightly, almost in disbelief. His life had shifted so quickly, and yet it felt like everything was falling into place in ways he never thought he deserved.

***

Kaz came home to the smell of cake lingering in the air. Y/N reached him in the entryway, linking her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. He smiled against her lips at her enthusiastic greeting, feeling the warmth and familiarity of her embrace. “Are you baking something?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I made three cakes,” she hummed, their noses touching as she spoke. Her hands wandered around his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles. “I'm going out, I have…” She took his lower lip between her teeth playfully, “13 minutes, what do you say?”

Kaz chuckled, his amusement evident. “I say that Jesper is right behind me.”

Y/N glanced over Kaz's shoulder and spotted Jesper standing there with a grin. “Fine by me,” she said with an allusive smile, making Jesper raise an eyebrow.

“Sure, love,” Kaz laughed, shaking his head. “Jesper is staying for dinner.”

“Alright, there's uhm, cake and beer I think,” she said, walking towards the kitchen with a casual sway in her step.

Kaz raised an eyebrow at Jesper, who shrugged at the peculiar menu. “If I don’t have to cook, it's fine.” commented Jesper. 

Following her into the kitchen, Kaz rested his hands on her hips as she checked the cake in the oven. “Where are you going?”

“Just home, girls' night watching the Kardashians,” she smiled, turning to face him.

“Did you eat?” Kaz asked, noticing a hint of hesitation in her demeanor.

Y/N hesitated, her eyes darting away for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

“Y/N,” Kaz said more firmly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at her.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping a little. 

Kaz’s expression softened, and he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Y/N-”

“I know,” she replied, looking up at him with a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll eat there.”

Kaz nodded, his fingers lingering on her skin for a moment longer before he let her go. He glanced at the cakes, the sweet aroma filling the kitchen. “That smells amazing, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, a bit more cheer in her voice as she turned back to the oven. 

Jesper, who had been lingering awkwardly by the door, finally spoke up. “So, what’s the occasion? Or is it just a regular Tuesday cake?”

“Just felt like baking,” Y/N replied with a grin, pulling the last cake out of the oven and setting it on the counter to cool. 

After a while, Y/N excused herself to get ready for her night out. Kaz and Jesper settled on the couch, beers in hand. Y/N reappeared in the living room, dressed for the evening. She kissed Kaz passionately goodbye, her lips lingering on his just long enough to leave him wanting more.

"Have fun," Kaz murmured against her lips, feeling a pang of longing as she pulled away.

"I will," she winked, grabbing her bag and heading out the door.

Kaz watched her go, a slight smile on his face. He turned back to Jesper, who was already engrossed in a work document.

About an hour later Kaz and Jesper were immersed in their work, discussing plans and strategies for their next job. The room was filled with the soft clinking of beer bottles and the rustle of papers.

Suddenly, Kaz's phone buzzed, breaking his concentration. He glanced at the screen and saw a message from one of Y/N’s roommates: ‘Can you tell Y/N to answer her damn phone?’

Kaz stared at it, a knot of unease forming in his stomach. They were supposed to be together. His mind started racing, envisioning all sorts of scenarios. As soon as he clicked on the notification to answer, the message got deleted. Kaz frowned even more, feeling a surge of worry. He had no idea what was going on.

"Everything okay?" Jesper asked, noticing Kaz’s troubled expression.

"Yeah," Kaz replied, his eyes still on the now-deleted message. He debated whether to call Y/N or wait for her to get home and talk face-to-face. Was she lying to him? Where did she go? The questions bugged him, leaving him with a strong sense of unease all evening.

When Kaz heard the door open around midnight, he was already in bed, playing on her Switch. The familiar sound of her footsteps echoed through the apartment, accompanying the tension building inside of him.

Y/N peered into the bedroom, "Hey," she greeted softly, heading to the bathroom to take off her makeup.

Kaz tried to keep his composure, thinking about the imminent conversation. He wanted answers, but he didn't want to accuse her unfairly. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts, each one making him more anxious.

Minutes later, she emerged, half-naked, her skin glowing in the soft light. She climbed directly into his lap, snatching away the console from his hands to get his attention. Kaz's eyes couldn't help but get lost in the sight of her cleavage, particularly the new tattoo she had between her breasts that made focusing increasingly difficult.

"Hi," she said with a smile, guiding his hands to her waist.

"Hey," he replied slowly, his mind still on the text.

"How was your day?" she purred in his ear, rocking her hips slightly against him.

"Good," he said, his breath hitching as she bit his neck. He knew he had to ask her, “Love?”

Y/N hummed against his skin in return, her hands wandering on his body.

“Lia texted me, telling me to make you answer the phone,” he said, purposefully using the wrong name to gauge her reaction.

Y/N didn’t falter. “Lia? We were together. You mean Mia?” She corrected him without hesitation.

Kaz felt a mixture of relief and suspicion. She corrected him well, but was she just quick on her feet? “Yeah, Mia. She wasn’t with you?” He allowed her to guide his mouth to her neck, humming in satisfaction as he kissed her.

“No, she has this new guy,” Y/N explained, her hand sliding inside his boxer, skillfully working him up.

Kaz struggled to maintain his focus. “Why didn’t you answer her?” he asked, his voice strained.

“My phone was on mute,” Y/N replied, her hand’s movements making it increasingly hard for him to concentrate.

“Why did she delete the message?” he asked, feeling his resolve slipping away.

“I don’t know. She must have remembered that I wasn't with you,” Y/N said, her hand working him more intensely now, making him forget his doubts as pleasure took over.

Kaz’s mind fogged over, his earlier concerns buried under a wave of desire. He wanted to trust her, wanted to believe in their relationship. As Y/N’s lips found his again, he decided to let go for the moment, losing himself in her touch and the reassurance of her presence.

***

They spent the next morning in bed, between sloppy kisses and drifting back in and out of sleep. The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over them. Y/N curled against Kaz, her head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced patterns on her back. They exchanged lazy smiles, savoring the rare luxury of a morning without obligations.

"Do we have to get up?" Y/N murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

Kaz chuckled, his hand moving to play with a strand of her hair. "Not unless you want to. We can stay here all day if you’d like."

She nuzzled closer, planting a gentle kiss on his chest. "Good, because I’m not ready to leave this bed."

Kaz tightened his arm around her, drawing her even nearer. "Neither am I."

They lay in comfortable silence, the only sounds being their steady breathing and the occasional rustle of sheets as they adjusted their positions. Kaz’s mind drifted back to the previous night, the lingering worries pushed aside by the sheer contentment of the present moment. He felt Y/N’s fingers dance across his skin, a soothing rhythm that kept him grounded.

"I love mornings like this," Y/N said softly, her breath warm against his chest.

"Me too," Kaz replied, kissing the top of her head. 

Their kisses grew more fervent, passion slowly rekindling. Y/N rolled onto her back, pulling Kaz with her. He hovered above her, their eyes locked in a silent conversation filled with love and desire. The connection between them felt stronger than ever, a silent promise of their commitment to each other.

***

But the doubts of the previous night crept back into Kaz’s mind when Y/N disappeared again that evening with another vague excuse. He had a work thing and returned home late, finding her already asleep. He stood in the doorway, watching her peaceful form beneath the blankets. She had once told him she cheated on all her previous boyfriends, but Kaz believed he was different. He thought he could be the one she wouldn’t stray from. He needed clarity, but he didn’t want to accuse her without evidence.

Her phone buzzed persistently on his side of the bed, pulling his attention. He knew it was wrong, that invading her privacy would be a betrayal of trust, but his doubts gnawed at him. With a heavy heart and hands shaking with guilt, Kaz reached for her phone.

He glanced at her one last time. She had an arm draped over the pillow, her face nestled into it, completely oblivious. He began checking her notifications: three were from clients, one was a payment confirmation. Kaz's tension eased slightly, but the unread messages from the tennis guy caught his attention. Fifteen unread messages, all asking to see her and seeking explanations for her sudden absence. This information eased his mind somewhat; it seemed she wasn’t with him at least. But still, there was no clue as to where she had been that evening.

Kaz's thoughts raced. He considered waking her to confront her, but he knew that would lead to a defensive argument and likely no answers. Instead, he decided to wait for the morning. He would ask her directly, hoping for honesty. He placed her phone back on the nightstand, gently, as if it might shatter under any more pressure.

He undressed quietly and slid into bed beside her, careful not to disturb her. His mind replayed every interaction they had over the past few weeks, searching for signs he might have missed. He loved her deeply, and the thought of her betraying that trust tore at him. But Kaz also knew he had to be rational, not let jealousy cloud his judgment.

***

The next morning, Kaz woke up to the smell of coffee and breakfast. Y/N was in the kitchen, humming softly as she cooked. The sight of her in one of his shirts, moving gracefully around their shared space, made his heart ache. He joined her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder.

“Morning,” she said cheerfully, turning her head to give him a quick kiss. “I made your favorite.”

“Morning,” Kaz replied, his voice steady but his mind racing. Looking at her so at ease made it impossible for him to start the conversation. He decided to trust her, at least for now.

‘I’m babysitting tonight,’ her text pulled him out of the books of the Crow Club. Kaz couldn’t help but ask himself if it was a lie or not. He shook his head, the bittersweet flavor of doubt lingering in his mouth. If he had decided to trust her that morning, then why had he slipped an AirTag inside her car when he went out?

He checked her location obsessively. Y/N stayed home until around 4 when her car made the journey to her other house to work. At 7, Kaz received another text, ‘Just finished work. I’ll be home around 11, you?’

He contemplated his response. ‘Still not sure,’ he decided to reply.

About an hour later, her car started to move, and Kaz’s heart was about to explode. He came close to praying that she would turn toward her friends’ house to babysit, but she didn’t. Her car stopped in the parking lot of a hotel. A nice one, but not nice enough for her to be with one of her clients. His heart sank; he couldn’t believe it.

Kaz had no idea what to do. He didn’t want to confront her, didn’t want to accept the truth that it was really happening. He texted her that he wouldn’t be able to come back home that night and decided to bury himself in work and alcohol.

Kaz made his way home not too early the next morning, and he met Y/N as she was going to the gym. “Hi, love,” she greeted him with a smile, kissing his jaw. “Where were you last night?” she asked.

Kaz did his best not to scoff. Where were you?  he wanted to ask, but instead, he just shrugged, “Work stuff.”

Y/N hummed, her hand still on his cheek. “I could make it up to you after Pilates,” she said, batting her eyes.

“I’m probably going to sleep all day,” he said, and Y/N frowned, clearly taken aback by his rejection. “Are you free after dinner?”

Y/N made a tight smile. “I think I’m busy.”

Kaz nodded, his heart breaking. He didn’t even ask her what she had to do; he couldn’t bear to hear another lie. He just kissed her forehead and let her go.

As she walked away, Kaz felt a gnawing emptiness. He trudged to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, the weight of his suspicions pressing down on him. The AirTag had confirmed his worst fears, but he was still clinging to the hope that there was some explanation, some reason that didn’t involve betrayal.

***

After an entire week of lies, Kaz found himself outside the hotel, his heart pounding in his chest. All their conversations flashed through his mind—their shared moments of vulnerability, her doubts, the times she had warned him that she would only end up hurting him. Her ex-boyfriend’s words haunted him, taunting him with the prophecy that Kaz would become just like him. At the time, it seemed impossible, but now he was right there, having looked through her phone and stalked her location. Kaz laughed at the bitter irony, shaking his head. 

The ring was still waiting for her, carefully hidden away. What was he supposed to do if they broke up? Take it back to the shop? Sell it? Dramatically throw it in the harbor?

After about an hour, Kaz spotted Y/N leaving the hotel, a man walking closely behind her. They stopped to talk for a while, but when the man cupped her cheek with his hand, Kaz couldn’t take it anymore. He strode towards them, his anger boiling over.

“Y/N,” he said coldly as he reached them. Y/N turned, her eyes wide with shock. “Kaz, what are you doing here?”

A manic laugh escaped his lips. “Me? What are you doing here? You always said you didn’t work outside your house, so what the fuck?”

“Work?” asked the man, puzzled.

“Kaz, wait,” Y/N began, her voice pleading.

“No, Y/N, come on, not even six months?”

“Love-”

“Who is this?” the man asked.

“He’s my boyfriend,” she replied softly.

“I was about to fucking propose to you, Y/N,” Kaz shouted.

Y/N froze, but then a small smile spread on her lips. “What?”

“You heard me. Why did you have to do this?”

“Kaz-”

“I can’t believe this is happening, Y/N.”

“KAZ!”

“Why, Y/N-”

“This is my father.”

Kaz stopped dead in his tracks, his mind struggling to process her words. “Your father?” he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

The man nodded uncomfortably, clearly sensing the tension. “Yes, I’m her father.”

“I know I told you they were dead, but—” Y/N began, her voice trembling.

“They’re not. Alice told me,” Kaz said softly.

Y/N looked confused. “When did you talk to her?”

Kaz felt a surge of embarrassment for the scene he had just caused. “When I asked her for her blessing to marry you,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

Y/N’s eyes widened, then a laugh bubbled up, her amusement genuine despite the tension. “You asked for her blessing? You're so old-fashioned, baby,” she teased, reaching out to touch his arm.

Kaz and Y/N’s father exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Kaz wanted to disappear, feeling the weight of his lack of trust in her. As he looked closer at her father, he could see the resemblance between them—a shared softness in their eyes, the same determined set to their jaws.

Y/N took control of the situation, turning to her father with a reassuring smile. “So, this is my boyfriend, Kaz. I’ve talked to you about him.”

Kaz extended his hand, and they shook. He felt a bit under scrutiny, the older man's gaze assessing him. “My pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Y/N’s father said with a tight smile.

Kaz nodded, feeling both relief and unease. He didn’t know much about Y/N’s parents; she had preferred to think of them as dead. Now, he found himself unsure of what to say. 

“You went to Alice to ask for her hand—that's a nice thing to do,” her father continued, trying to bridge the gap.

“Thank you, sir,” Kaz replied politely, feeling the formalities help ground him amidst the turmoil. The awkwardness hung in the air, thick and palpable. He was acutely aware of the judgmental glances exchanged between Y/N and her father, each assessing the other’s significance in her life.

Her father nodded, looking slightly more at ease but still wary. “I appreciate that. It shows respect.”

Kaz forced a smile, trying to read the man in front of him. He knew so little about him, yet this stranger was so crucial to Y/N’s life and past. “It felt like the right thing to do. Y/N means a lot to me.”

Y/N’s father gave a small, approving nod. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Kaz nodded, understanding the weight of those words. “I know. I’m here for her, always.”

Y/N watched the exchange, her eyes darting between them. She placed a hand on Kaz’s arm, grounding him further. “I think we should catch up another time. There’s a lot we need to discuss, but not here.”

Her father glanced at her, then at Kaz, before nodding in agreement. “You’re right. We’ll talk soon.” He turned to Kaz, offering a hand again. “It was good to meet you, Kaz. Take care of her.”

Kaz shook his hand firmly. “I will, sir.”

Once alone, Kaz and Y/N locked eyes. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions. Kaz took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to apologize.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I—”

“I was acting shady, I understand, Kaz,” she interrupted, her arms hugging herself defensively.

“No, I crossed the line. I should’ve talked to you instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“I should’ve come to you too,” she replied, looking away with a sigh. “Usually, I love public scenes, but how about we go home?”

Kaz nodded with a small smile, relief washing over him. “I have to stop at work for a second, but I’ll reach you there.”

He turned to go to his car, but Y/N grabbed him by the arm, her serious gaze locking onto his. “Kaz,” she said, her voice steady and filled with emotion, “I love you.”

Kaz felt a weight lift from his chest at her words. “I love you,” he replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly before walking away.

Kaz didn’t go to his office. Instead, he went to buy flowers and those vegan chocolates Y/N liked. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him and how sorry he was for doubting her.

When Kaz arrived home, he found Y/N making drinks in the kitchen. She had changed into one of his shirts, which hung loosely on her and exposed her legs. The sight of her like this made his heart ache with love and regret. She looked up and smiled at him, her eyes softening when she saw the flowers and chocolates.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. He kissed her temple and handed her the gifts.

Her smile widened as she accepted them. “You didn’t have to,” she said, but Kaz could see the happiness in her eyes.

“I wanted to,” he replied, his voice earnest. “I needed to.”

They settled on the couch, drinks in hand, the atmosphere between them more relaxed now.

Kaz settled next to Y/N on the couch, feeling the need to clear the air further. “He contacted me a few weeks ago,” she started, her voice tentative. “Said he wanted to get to know me. I wanted to understand his intentions before talking about it.”

“Why?” Kaz asked, his brow furrowing.

“I don't know,” she admitted, looking away. “I didn’t want to jinx it, I think. I was afraid that if I talked about it, it might not turn out the way I hoped.”

Kaz nodded, understanding the fear of misplacing her hopes. “What do you think about him now?”

Y/N sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I still don’t know. He seems sincere, but at the same time, his family has no idea I exist. It’s complicated.”

Kaz gathered his thoughts, knowing he had to come clean. “I thought you were cheating on me,” he confessed. “I went through your phone one time while you were sleeping. I even put an AirTag in your car and followed your position.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, but she remained calm. “That’s fucked up, love,” she said, though her tone was not accusatory.

Kaz cradled his head in his hands, feeling the weight of his actions. “I know. I’m so sorry. I was paranoid and I let my fears get the best of me.”

“I can understand, Kaz,” Y/N said softly. “I did everything I could to make you doubt me. I always repeated how unworthy of trust I was, so it’s not surprising that at the first sign of shadiness, you thought the worst.”

“You’re not mad?” he asked, lifting his head to meet her gaze.

“I mean, I didn’t think you would actually do those kinds of things, but I can understand why it happened,” she replied. Her eyes were filled with understanding and sadness. “I know you’re not a crazy stalker.”

Kaz pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He was immensely grateful for how things had evolved. “I’ll do better,” he whispered. “I’ll trust you, and I won’t let anything ruin what we have.”

Y/N nodded against his chest, her arms around him just as tightly. “And I’ll be more open with you,” she promised. “No more secrets.”

They sat like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and filled with unspoken promises. Kaz felt a sense of relief wash over him, knowing they had come through this stronger. 

Kaz felt a surge of anticipation as Y/N's grin widened. “So, you were about to propose?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“I still am,” he replied, determination clear in his voice as he stood up. He walked to the safe, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on him. 

It wasn't absolutely the proposal he imagined, but with her, nothing went as he planned. 

With steady hands, he retrieved the ring, taking a final look at it in its box. It was perfect, just like the moment he had been envisioning, despite all the turmoil they had been through.

Y/N covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with disbelief and joy. “Is this really happening?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Kaz nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he dramatically dropped to one knee. He ignored the sharp pain that shot through his leg, focusing entirely on her. The sight of her laughter and tears mingling together filled him with warmth. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice strong but filled with emotion, “will you marry me?”

She opened her mouth, uncertainty written all over her face, but he gently cut her off. “I want you to know that I'll wait for you. You said one day you're going to leave your job. I'll wait for that day. If it's tomorrow, or in ten years, I don't care.”

Her eyes softened, tears welling up. “Will you? Really?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes,” he affirmed, his eyes locking onto hers with unwavering sincerity. 

Y/N's face lit up with a radiant smile, her hands trembling as she reached out to him. “Yes, I'll marry you,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.

Kaz slid the ring onto Y/N’s finger, the smooth metal encircling her finger with a perfect fit. The moment felt suspended in time, the culmination of all their shared experiences and deep feelings. He stood up slowly, his heart pounding as he pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest. The warmth and intimacy of the moment were overwhelming, a powerful affirmation of their love.

Y/N responded by kissing him deeply and passionately, her lips pressing against his with an intensity that conveyed all the love and commitment that words couldn't fully capture. Her kiss was both a promise and a celebration, a silent testament to the depth of her feelings.

They pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting against each other, eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes. “I love you,” Kaz whispered, his voice filled with tenderness and relief, the words almost a sacred vow.

“I love you,” Y/N replied, her eyes shining with happiness, reflecting the joy and gratitude she felt. Her voice trembled with emotion, each syllable laced with sincerity.

Kaz looked at her, his gaze softening as he took in the sight of his fiancée, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Taking a shaky breath, he couldn’t help but tease her gently. “Are you crying?” he asked, shoving her slightly with a smile.

Y/N laughed nervously, her tears slipping freely down her cheeks. “Yes, I’m fucking crying,” she admitted, her voice trembling as she met Kaz’s gaze. “No one ever showed me this kind of respect before. I always thought I wasn’t worthy of it, you know? I never expected someone to be so committed, so... real with me. It’s a lot to take in.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady her emotions. “It’s just... I’ve been through so much. I always felt like I had to fight for every bit of validation, every ounce of respect. No one ever really took me seriously. I was always the one who had to prove herself, to show that I was worth something.” Her voice wavered, the vulnerability clear as she continued. “And I ended up doing it to myself too, you know? I learned to doubt my worth, to think that maybe I wasn’t deserving of something real.”

Her eyes shimmered with fresh tears as she looked at Kaz, the weight of her past struggles mingling with the joy of the present. She swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. “It’s a bit overwhelming,” she said softly, her breath catching. “I never allowed myself to believe I could have something like this. I’ve always held back, convinced myself that I wasn’t deserving of this kind of happiness.”

Kaz’s heart ached at the sight of her vulnerability. He gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that continued to spill. His gaze was intense and full of emotion as he spoke, each word measured and sincere. “Thanks to you, I’ll be able to have a normal life,” he began, his voice carrying a profound sincerity. “I thought I would never be able to be so comfortable with someone. You might not realize it, but you’ve changed everything for me. I wasn’t able to hold someone’s hand without feeling like I was suffocating before meeting you. I couldn’t get kissed without throwing up from anxiety.”

He paused, taking a deep breath, trying to capture the gravity of his feelings. “You’ve made me feel things I thought I’d never experience. You’ve shown me what it’s like to be loved without fear, to be with someone who understands me and accepts me completely. I’ll be grateful every single day for this— for you.”

Kaz’s thumbs continued to caress her cheeks gently, as if trying to imprint the moment in his memory. “You’ve given me a chance to live a life I never thought was possible. And every time I look at you, every time I hold you, I’m reminded of how lucky I am.”

She managed to laugh a bit, her voice carrying a light, playful edge. “You ruined my reputation,” she teased, her eyes still glistening with emotion.

Kaz chuckled, his fingers gently drying a tear from her cheek. “How are you going to survive?” he asked, his tone light but filled with affection.

“I guess we’ll find out,” she replied with a wink, the playful spark in her eyes returning.

Kaz scooped her up effortlessly, though his limp was more pronounced as he carried her toward their bedroom. She playfully protested, giggling and squirming in his arms, but he just smiled, determined to make their moment special. 

They stumbled onto the bed, laughing and catching each other in a deep, lingering kiss. 

“Can you believe that we’re engaged?” Kaz murmured against her skin, his lips brushing over her shirt as he kissed her nipple through the fabric. “I won, love.”

“You won?” she hummed, scratching his head affectionately. “I didn’t realize it was a competition.”

“Of course it was,” Kaz grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m here to claim my prize.” He lifted her shirt with a flourish, trailing kisses down her stomach, reveling in the way she arched under him.

“My friends won’t believe it,” she whispered, her voice a soft murmur as she relaxed into his touch.

Kaz smiled against her warm skin. “Why not?”

“Let’s say I always had strong opinions about how boring committed relationships are,” she admitted, her tone playful yet sincere.

He bit gently at her hip bone, making her hiss in response. “Are you bored?”

“Not yet,” she teased with a satisfied smile.

“You always said you wanted children,” Kaz said, his curiosity piqued. “How did that fit into your plans?”

“Oh, it was good,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. “All four of us were supposed to have the same sperm donor and raise our children together in a big, confusing family.”

Kaz hummed against her inner thigh, mulling over the unconventional plan. It didn’t sound all that bad. “Can I send it to them?” she asked, holding up her phone to show him a picture. 

Kaz glanced at the screen, seeing his head clearly positioned between her legs, but the explicit part of the scene was partially obscured by her hand that displayed the engagement ring. He grinned, thinking it would make a great wallpaper for his phone. “Just to them, and to me,” he agreed with a crooked smile, returning to his affectionate attention.

“We could use it for our engagement party invitations,” she laughed, tossing her phone aside as she surrendered to the pleasure, her head falling back against the pillows.

“Matthias would carve his eyeballs out,” Kaz laughed.

Kaz increased the rhythm of his tongue, his fingers working in tandem, sensing her growing restlessness and the mounting pleasure.

“Are you going to tease me all night?” she whined, her voice tinged with frustration and desire.

“Yes,” Kaz replied with a smirk.

“I’m sorry for the neighbors then,” she moaned loudly, her voice thick with pleasure as Kaz gently nudged her clit with his teeth. Her moans filled the room, mingling with the soft rustling of the sheets and their shared breaths.

Kaz’s heart raced at the sound of her unrestrained sounds, each one a testament to the pleasure he was giving her. He loved how vocal she was, her cries of ecstasy echoing off the walls and cutting through the silence of the night. 

Her reactions were music to his ears, each moan and gasp a reminder of how alive she was beneath his touch, silencing the voices in his head. With every cry she released, Kaz felt a sense of liberation.

He reveled in the way her body responded to him, how her hips arched and her breaths came in quick, uneven gasps. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, and he could feel her heart racing beneath his fingertips. It was a visceral, intoxicating experience, and he found himself lost in the sensation of her warmth and the sound of her voice.

***

The next morning, Kaz was jolted awake by a cacophony of voices coming from the hallway. Groggy and irritated, he threw on some sweatpants and stumbled toward the noise, which was clearly escalating into a full-blown argument. As he got closer, y/n’s voice cut through the chaos with a sharp edge.

“I’m so sorry if your husband can’t get it up anymore!” y/n shouted, her tone laced with mocking.

Kaz rubbed his eyes and shook his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. He could hear the muffled responses of their neighbors, but y/n’s voice was the loudest, filled with defiance.

“You know what? Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time eavesdropping on us, and more getting down on her, you wouldn’t have to be so uptight!” she continued, her voice rising.

Kaz reached the hallway and saw y/n standing with their disgruntled neighbors, their faces a blend of shock and fury. The couple from next door were clearly at their breaking point, their eyes wide with indignation.

Kaz leaned against the doorframe, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding before him. “What’s going on here?” he asked, barely containing his laughter.

The husband’s face was a deep shade of red, his anger palpable. “Your noise last night was out of control!” he roared, his voice shaking with frustration.

Y/n, clearly at her limit, threw her hands up in exasperation. “Oh, please! Have you ever had good sex in your life? Maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be such a stickler about it!”

Kaz struggled between laughter and embarrassment. “We got engaged last night,” he said, trying to provide some context, “we were celebrating.”

The wife shot him a look that could have frozen fire. “It’s not just about one night! It’s about being considerate! You’re disturbing everyone!”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, her temper flaring. “It wasn’t even that long!”

The husband’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “You went on for almost three hours! We were trying to watch a movie!”

Y/n’s smirk widened as she turned to Kaz, clearly enjoying the moment. “Almost three hours? Good job, baby.”

The neighbors scoffed, their faces a mix of shock and indignation. Kaz, now thoroughly red-faced, tried to hide his grin, feeling both mortification and amusement.

The wife’s face contorted with frustration. “This is absolutely ridiculous! You can’t just make everyone else miserable because you’re celebrating!”

Kaz couldn’t hold back any longer. “You’re the only  one complaining, just turn up your volume a bit.”

The husband glared at him, but Kaz’s easygoing demeanor seemed to infuriate him even more. “We’re going to the building manager with this. This isn’t over!”

As they stormed off, Kaz turned to y/n, shaking his head with a mix of disbelief and amusement. “That was something.”

Y/n laughed, stepping closer to him. “I’d say they needed to get a life. They can’t handle a little excitement now and then.”

Kaz grinned, pulling her into an embrace. “They were right.”

“They were absolutely right,” agreed y/n laughing.

notes: hope you liked a bit of a rollercoaster here:) I'm sorry to say that next part is going to be the last, we've made this journey with them and they kept us entertained all summer but now it's time to let them live happily.

[everlasting-rainfall]

hi idk if anyone already asked about this I was wondering what are your thoughts on yandere poly Sanji and Luffy ?

Hello, hello, hello! Nah, I believe that you’re the first one to ask about the two of them together which is by no means a bad thing as I’m really happy that you did, dear!

Honestly I love the idea of Luffy and Sanji together as I’m a big LuSan shipper like I even have a fankid for them but at the same time, I love polyamourous straw hats (minus Chopper as he’s a baby) in general but we’ll save the polyamourous straw hats for another day when I feel more confident about writing them all together

For now! We’ll focus on Yandere Sanji and Yandere Luffy together in a nice happy polyamourous relationship with you!

Let’s get into it, shall we?

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Kidnapping, Violence, Isolation, Forced Touches, Bathing with a Yandere, SPOILERS FOR WANO, Jealousy, Forced Intimacy

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

So honestly, the two of them together is bound to more than likely be quite chaotic no matter what kind of scenario you might be in like no matter the AU or if there even Yandere’s to be honest

You have Luffy’s chaotic nature that was probably the entire reason that you were snatched up so quickly and taken to the Thousand Sunny to be part of his crew

And then you have Sanji whose an all around gentlemen who was more than likely trying to subtly coerce you into joining the crew before Luffy just snatched you up like it was nobodies business and made you join

Honestly I don’t think that you’re ever going to get any quiet alone time with the two of them as if Sanji isn’t fawning over you and doing anything to make your life just the slightest bit more comfortable then Luffy is there wanting to play a game with you or do something fun in general

You’re never really able to have any quiet alone time and if you somehow manage to find a good hiding spot then it’s not going to last long as they both will be metaphorically ripping apart the ship looking for you until they either find you or a crew mate rats you out

When this happens, you’ll have Luffy’s arms wrapped you multiple times in a hug as he gleefully shouts “Found you!” while Sanji hangs off of you crying asking what he did wrong for you to run away from them like this

If you truly need some alone time though then you could ask Sanji for it, he’ll keep Luffy away from you the best that he can while you take a deep breath and try to enjoy some alone time but don’t expect much as Sanji will constantly be poking his head in to check on you and ask if you need absolutely anything

You can shout at him to leave you alone buh now Sanji looks heartbroken and Luffy is upset with you for making your other partner cry so now you get no alone time and you’re in trouble

In all honesty when it comes to punishing you for being bad then I can honestly imagine that Sanji is much more gentle with what he does like this man can barely bring himself to scold you

While Luffy on the other hand is more willing to punish you like if you’ve done something wrong like attempt to spike the crew’s food with something to give you a better chance at escape from them or made Sanji cry then that’s when he’ll punish you

He will shout at you for doing that and in all honesty, I feel like Luffy despite not being the smartest guy could make you feel absolutely awful for what you did

And if you continue to do stuff like this then I can’t say that you’re not going to wind up in some serious trouble like I’m talking physical punishment

Sanji would never allow Luffy to hurt you in any shape or form so don’t worry but what makes these punishments physical is that it’s basically being locked up in your shared room with them. No interaction with anyone but them

And if you don’t trying to escape after that then say hello to a chain that will keep you bound to their bed until you either have spent enough time in your punishment according to Sanji or until you have shown a genuine change in your behavior

You could try to trick them but I don’t see that going well for you as even if they fall for it, there’s always the chance that once you’re let out. Another member of the crew will point out that nothing has changed and boom!

Right back to punishment…

Also as well I can see like how they met you was probably through typical straw hat stuff like they arrive on an island, they find out there’s a problem typically consisting of corrupt marines or bad pirates then they wind up helping

Maybe like you were someone that the enemy took and is keeping like “Well aren’t you a pretty thing?” or “If anyone tries to fight us then this person is dead!!”

And the person who got them to help was like your friend or something, they showed Sanji and Luffy a picture of you and you know those moments where it’s like love at first sight? That’s what happens for Sanji at least while Luffy does feel drawn to you

After everything is said and done, that’s when they spend some time on the island just chilling and maybe partying too with the islanders as “Woo hoo!! The enemy is gone!! Yay!!” and all that

And it’s during this time is when they’d get closer to you, they’d spend time with you during the party like you’d laugh when Sanji kicks Luffy for stealing your food and when Luffy steals you away from his partner by grabbing you and zipping off

Both are clearly trying to spend as much time as they possibly can with you like it’s so obvious that it isn’t even funny but you don’t pay it any mind other than that you were just a hostage that they had to save and protect so they’re probably just trying to make sure you’re okay

You are correct on that part but you’re missing a few details like them wanting to keep you for themselves and take you on a high seas adventure with them to find the One Piece

If you don’t have any skills then that’s fine by them as Sanji won’t mind a little help in the kitchen now and again especially if it means that he gets to spend more time with you although he is just about doing everything for you

And besides Luffy could always do with another member of Pirate Royalty

So when they leave, that’s when Sanji tries to be all gentlemanly with you and offer you to join the Straw Hats like straight up trying to offer you his arm so you can come with them

If that doesn’t work and you say no then he’ll try to insist but trust me if Luffy gets impatient about you joining then that’s when he’ll swoop in and lift you over his shoulder to rush off

Probably while laughing too

Sanji is honestly the kind of Yandere as well to attempt to win your affections as he sees how you don’t accept his invitations for affection

So this man will definitely try and win you over in whatever way that he can like he is making all of your favorite foods and doing his absolute best to be as romantic as possible with you

Little loving gestures and things like that like he straight up memorizes your schedule to get everything ready for you before you need it like you’ll be heading to get cleaned up and he’ll already be there having drawn a bath

Probably offering to wash your back for you too

If you didn’t know any better then you would say that he wasn’t a Yandere but it’s hard to forget when on the occasion that he takes you off the ship with him, he tries and more than likely succeeds at cracking the skull of any man who speaks to you

If you didn’t hold him back or distract him then he might even take the life of any man who stares at you too long…

Luffy on the other hand probably acts like he already has your affection and love whole heartedly like he doesn’t even seem to realize that you’re fighting him whenever he wraps you up in a hug or tries to plant a messy kiss on the side of your face

He is wholeheartedly convinced that you love him and Sanji just like how they love you, you just don’t show it

Don’t get him wrong though as if you do try to leave them then he’s absolutely not okay with that, he’s still convinced that you love them but you need to be reminded to not leave them and you just need a reminder of where you belong which leads to the punishments

I don’t think Luffy would get too jealous if someone talked to you but he would try to butt into a conversation like throwing his arm around your shoulders in a seemingly playful manner or moving himself to be as in between you and your conversation partner

He will look so offended as well if you move him or remove his arm from you… He’ll also just put his arm right back around you or go right back to where he was

As for intimacy?

God, I wish you luck trying to take the both of them at once as they’re both incredibly strong Pirate men… Sanji won’t be too rough until he really starts getting into it but Luffy is rough enough to compensate

Aftercare is a thing, Sanji’s aftercare is definitely more traditional with cuddles and soft kisses. Probably a bath too but Luffy’s aftercare typically involves getting something good to eat

As for Intimacy in Gear 5? Imagine a giant sun god man with cartoon physics mashing two dolls together to make them have sex… That’s probably what some of it would be like

Other times though, I can imagine that Luffy has you on your knees next to Sanji who’s also on his knees and just licking Luffy’s cock looking totally peaceful with it too

Meanwhile you’re definitely not into this as these are your captors but if push comes to shove and Luffy notices that he isn’t getting as much love from you as he is Sanji

Then he might just shrink his cock down to manageable size and shove it down your throat with a “Stop ignoring me!”

[alienoresimagines]

Dying for more crumbs of your "I was made to protect you" Bodyguard/Royalty AU if you're willing to share!

Nonnie!! 🥹🫶🏻 I swear this AU was on the backburner because I couldn't find what I wanted to do with it but your ask really kickstarted it so thank you 🥹❤️ As crumbs, here is my humble offering of John and Gale, twelve years after their first meeting, when they are safe and well in love ❤️ Yes, we're starting backwards but take this as a guarantee I won't kill off any of them 😂 As for the main fic, an outline is starting to be formed and I hope I'll manage to get a few chapters done before uni starts 🥰 But really, none of this would be here without you, so thank you 🥹💕

Also on AO3

Our love, for eternity | Buck x Bucky (Royalty/Bodyguard AU)

John cannot remember the first time someone took his hand to press a kiss on his knuckles. Maybe when he was five, and his father could no longer protect him from the incessant requests of the Council to have him properly introduced to Court? He doesn’t remember much from it, too overwhelmed by all the noise and the crowd present, his only wish to hide himself behind his father’s legs but no longer allowed to, at least not in public. 

Almost thirty years later and he handles it much better, has learned to thrive on the attention and emotions of a crowd, even though he’s man enough to admit his father’s steady presence will always comfort him. Still, despite knowing it is part of protocol and that it is truly the least he can do, letting hundreds of nobles fall to their knees in front of him to bring his hand to their lips isn’t exactly on his pros list of being first Crown Prince and then King. Every day, he understands a bit better why his father chose to pass on the throne to him two years ago to live in a small cottage with Red and who knows how many horses the two men had managed to get their hands on since then. He’d gone to visit the two men just yesterday and they looked happier than ever, and John cannot deny that the idea of a small retreat in a house near the beach with Gale sounds like heaven. But alas, not for another twenty years at the least. 

He can do twenty years. With Gale at his side, he could do eternity as King. And really, when Gale is the one kissing his knuckles, the entire affair is much more tolerable, not to mention enjoyable. It never fails to have John’s entire being buzz with warmth spreading from his chest whenever Gale’s calloused palm gently close around his to bring his hand to his face until the now familiar prickle of beard tickles his skin, soothed by the press of soft lips. It’s a gesture Gale loves, always making sure he holds John’s gaze when his lips touch the tender skin, eyes warm and soft, corners of his mouth turned up even as it rests gently against John’s knuckles. They could be reading side by side in John’s private chambers, loosely holding hands in the space between their two armchairs, fire gently crackling in front of them, and Gale would bring up their joined hands until he could kiss John’s knuckles, only looking up from his book once John could feel his breath fanning over back of his hand. 

In all the years they’ve known each other and amongst all the different things they’ve done with and to each other, few things have felt as intimate as Gale kissing his hand, no matter how many times he’s done it. Each one feels like a vow, full of more emotions and words than anyone could ever see behind the gesture. Many people have brought John’s hand to their lips- or their forehead, an alternative he prefers with strangers, he has to admit- in a sign of loyalty. But Gale always does it in absolute devotion and love, so sincere and raw it never fails to tighten John’s throat with so many emotions he cannot name until he almost chokes on them.

To all assembled in the throne room today, it is a common gesture meant to show utmost servitude to a monarch. To John, it’s timeless proof there is no one more devoted to him and his heart than the man currently kneeling at his feet.

There’s a reverence in how Gale does it. The gentle grip in which he holds John’s right hand, letting the curve of his fingers rest against his index as he brings it closer to his face, head bowed, as if they are the only two present. 

John’s hands aren’t as soft or slender as other women’s in Court. They’re calloused and rough from sword training, knuckles scarred with little cuts here and there. Gale still takes his time swiping his thumb over his knuckles, as though softly uncovering the skin. John feels like the most precious thing in the world, and he has to bite his lip to keep himself from smiling too wide. Then, to his surprise, Gale bows his head even lower until his forehead rests against John’s hand, windswept golden hair tickling the skin of his wrist. He lingers for a moment too long to be anything but on purpose, and John’s heart feels so full of love it might burst right out of his chest to leap into the waiting hands of the man kneeling in front of him. Despite the numerous scars on those war-hardened hands, none would be- and have been- as gentle and tender in holding his heart, of this John is sure.

It’s been two weeks since they’ve seen each other, the longest they’ve ever been apart since they first met, twelve years ago. Neither of them had been particularly willing, but a foreign delegation had specifically asked for Gale to be their escort back home and nothing could have justified John’s refusal; the kingdom is more at peace than it has been in years and Anglia’s relations with its neighbors always need to be strengthened.

To know that Gale had missed him as much John had missed him, enough that he’d chosen to be bolder than usual almost as though he couldn’t help himself? It sends bursts of warmth through John’s gut, golden light flowing through his veins until he feels warm all over, toes curling in his boots. Twelve years and the strength of his love for Gale still threatens to knock him off his feet.

Gale lifts his head, locking eyes with him, and though John needs to be careful of the emotions playing on his face, Gale has no such limits, his back to the rest of the room. Warm and fond and longing, cornflower eyes look up through blond lashes, the smile Gale doesn’t let curve his lips beside the faint upturn of the corners of his mouth dancing in the depths of blue. Then, finally, his lips kiss John’s knuckles in a lingering press, his beard a sweet tickle on his skin. John’s missed the touch so much that his knees feel weak upon feeling it again after two weeks of being starved for it, and a small sigh escapes his lips. Gale must hear it because he wiggles his eyebrows teasingly when he lowers John’s hand with a last caress of his thumb, and it’s all John can do not to pull him up and kiss him senseless, feel the softness of pump lips and the rough but pleasurable burn on his chin and cheeks.

The moment it is appropriate enough for them to go, John is crowding Gale in a secluded alcove until all he can taste are Gale’s kisses. 

“Your Grace,” and oh, how John had missed that deep voice, the way it rumbles through his body in a shiver that goes down his spine. Heat stirs low in his belly, the familiar flames of arousal only stoked by Gale’s intense gaze as John pulls him up.

John is taking him to bed in the following hour, midday and reports be damned. 

Despite this promise to himself, he can’t help the urge to feel Gale close to him, so with an arm around his shoulders, he brings him into a brief hug, clapping his hand on Gale’s shoulder a few times to mask the way he turns his head just so to bury his nose behind Gale’s ear, inhaling deeply. Nobody would blink at this display of affection, the Court well aware of John’s easygoing nature and affectionate ways with friends. 

Too soon, Gale starts pulling back and John reluctantly lets him, for a moment missing the boldness of earlier but recognizing the longing in Gale’s eyes, knowing it mirrors his. 

“You missed me?” Gale chuckles, shakes his head as he steps back to a more appropriate distance. His eyes don’t leave John’s face, as though carefully studying any change that might have happened in the two weeks they’d been apart.

“Like a stone in my shoe.” 

Even if John cannot pull him back into his own body, hold him there with an arm around his shoulders, this is something they can do. The easy banter and fond teasing they both know all the hidden messages of. It’s there, in the warm blue of Gale’s eyes and the smile that pulls at his lips. John is sure it shows in the way his eyes crinkle, how he can barely stop his arms from reaching out again. But nobody will blink at the lack of honorifics or at the fondness coloring Gale’s tone, too used to seeing them attached at the hip when they can be, or Gale always half a step behind John in times of duty. People will smile and write about the unbreakable bond between a King and his Shield, once again proving how Royal and Shield are closer than soulmates, never knowing how true those words are. 

My Clegan fics

[deviant-doughnut]

Between One Pair Of Hands And Another

Stepping into sharing some whump writing, in which a good guy has a very bad time.

content warning: non con/non con touch (immediately under the cut, and throughout); blood (mentioned); implied future non con; forced prostitution; adult man referred to as “boy”; derogatory language

“Push it out,” says the client. Sometimes they pull out and leave without acknowledging him, pass the money wordlessly to his handler. Other times they play with him after leaving him empty. 

Tonight’s client kept him facedown the whole hour, obsessed more with his hole than his cock, with mouthing his neck instead of making him kiss. He’s sick of other people’s tongues in his mouth anyway. It had felt like a mercy at first. But this client abused him with words as well as actions, and his taunts ring sharply through the silence of afterwards. 

Whimpering whore. No one’s coming to save you from this. Worthless little fucktoy. So pretty when you cry. Made to be broken and used. 

“Times up, man,” says his handler from the doorway. The client scoffs.

“One minute,” he says. “Literally. Come on now. Push it out, boy.”

The more you shake, the tighter you feel. 

The client sets a hand on each side of his ass, and Charlie startles, jolts. The client squeezes hard then spreads him slowly. Charlie’s eyes well and he does as he’s told. He engages his muscles. The client’s gaze fixes so firmly upon him that he feels it like something physical, a weight against which there is no point in struggling. He’s staring right at his hole. 

It doesn’t take much. With one gentle push, the client’s release slips from inside him, his hole still agape from his girth. The warmth of it slips slowly over his skin, sickly as it slides down the cleft of his ass. It trickles down onto the back of his balls, towards the clean white of the bedsheets. The client makes quick work of gathering the mess, thick fingers coated with it when they touch to his hole. He pushes the mess back inside him. 

Charlie whines. 

“I went a little rough on you,” says the client. He fingers him lazily, a smirk in his voice. “There’s a little more blood than I’d realised.” 

He fucks him like that, fingers pistoning in and out, the wetness stark and audible. The client laughs at the noise of it. Shame creeps up over Charlie’s neck, a redness setting deep into his skin. He squeezes his eyes shut, his face growing hot. Beneath him, his cock hardens and throbs. 

“This one’s perfect,” says the client, fingering Charlie as he talks to his handler, like Charlie isn’t even there in the room. “I’ll have him again next week. Two hours this time. He deserves more…exploration.”

“Double the cost,” the handler reminds him. Charlie moans at a twist of the client’s wrist, fingertips nudging his prostate. Deliberate or not, he’s been edged twice tonight. Pleasure ghosts through him now, familiar and wrong, but this time it feels like a promise.

“I’ll pay you triple,” says the client, “if you waive the condition about marking him up.” 

“He has other clients,” says the handler. “Some of them prefer him fresh.”

“What if I rented him for a month at a time?” says the client, fingers still working. “Beat him bloody the first week, make sure he’s healed up when he’s yours again.”

A wave of dread crashes over Charlie now. It does nothing to quell his unwanted arousal. The client finds a rhythm and he sticks to it, relentless yet startlingly casual. Charlie bites his lip until the skin finally gives. Copper floods over his tongue. It doesn’t stop him from moaning and writhing, the bedsheets rustling softly beneath him. He swallows blood, and he takes the assault. He wills their negotiation to finish. 

“I’d have to talk to my managers,” says the handler. “The organisation is very particular.” 

“I’m sure,” says the client, so nonchalant about fingering Charlie that it chills him as much as his insults. 

You like it, boy - don’t you? I know this is getting you hard. 

Charlie’s muscles lock suddenly, a belated protest against his arousal. Pleasure arches vibrantly through him, unwelcome yet warm and bright. Starbursts flare suddenly against the backs of his eyelids, his balls drawing tight as it happens. His stomach roils, and his release rushes closer. 

The client fingers him as he struggles and writhes. His handler watches them wordlessly. 

Charlie comes. His body jolts with the force of his orgasm. He cries out into the pillow. At first it’s in ecstasy, his release pulsing hard, hips stuttering for every spurt as the client keeps using him. Their conversation stops for him, just as he’d longed for, but he whimpers through this twisted version of closure. He stains the sheets underneath himself. He slicks up his stomach and the head of his cock. The high ebbs quickly and brutally back, revealing the rotten truth it was masking. 

This man paid Charlie’s captor for an hour spent raping him, and it ended with Charlie yelling through orgasm. 

You belong here. Chained to this bed. Crying underneath me. Milking my cock with your tight fucking hole. 

The client fingers him until his cries turn to sobs. Only then does he let him be empty. Charlie’s shoulders shake, heaving for breath between shuddering sobs. The client eases off of the bed, but the metal frame still creaks with the strength of his crying, the way his muscles pull and lock as he weeps. 

“Let me meet with my managers,” says his handler now. “Let’s get you booked in for those two hours next week, and I’ll pass on all their thoughts on the matter. No ones ever asked for a month before.”

“Yeah,” says the client, sounding sated and pleased. His fingers touch to Charlie’s scalp, card through his damp hair almost gently. He fights the urge to lean into the comfort. Most of his clients spare him no modicum of softness, make no effort to soothe after their onslaughts. “Well, I can tell we’ve got something special with this one. I think we’re going to be very close.” 

Fresh tears press out from his tightly closed eyes. Charlie lies on the mattress where his future might have changed, and just waits for his handler to untie him. It’s about as much peace as he gets nowadays, these moments between one pair of hands and another. He uses it to try and bury the memories — of the session, of his orgasm,  of the negotiation they made above him, and his bone chilling fear of this client. 

Oh fuck. The terrible things I would do to you, boy. If only you were truly mine. 

[whipitgod]

Thinking About Birds

Hannibal lecter x Will Graham

oneshot - wc: 2.7k

summary: post fall hannigram, will wishes he had thought about all of the little things that come with living with hannibal, and hannibal tap dances on wills last nerve!

warnings: language, mentions of canon typical murder stuff, somewhat crack-ish while also being serious at parts, tooth rotting domestic sweetness

a/n: Thank you for the continued support you are all so amazing!!! per usual this was supposed to be shorter than it turned out but i just can’t help my self apparently lol. If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

Will blinked awake slowly, shifting slightly to glance at the small digital clock on the nightstand; the numbers on the display reading 4:30. The red glow of the numbers feels almost taunting as he pauses to wonder what had even woken him up, he hasn't had a nightmare in months, at least not a real one. A thought crosses his mind that leaves a taste of bitter irony in his mouth, he hadn’t had a real nightmare since he had begun sharing a bed with Hannibal.

Will quells a laugh that bubbles up inside him and threatens to escape at the thought; the very cause of the nightmares that had plagued him for years, now being the thing that keeps them at bay. Will turns to look at where Hannibal sleeps, finding his side of the bed empty; Will can hear Hannibal clattering around in the bathroom in a failed attempt to be quiet so as to not wake the ex-profiler.

Will lets out a harsh breath through his nose in irritation as he hears what he believes to be, based on the sound of the bottle hitting the vanity in their shared bathroom, step 9 of Hannibal's outrageously long skincare routine. He reaches blindly for the lamp on the nightstand, making note of the fact that the sun has yet to even begin to rise. The lamp turns on with a soft click as he finally grabs ahold of the chain he had been reaching for, the room flooding with a warm yellow light that still manages to grate on Will's nerves.

He pushes himself up so he's sitting with his back against the ornately carved wooden headboard Hannibal had insisted on purchasing for their new shared bedroom, grumbling quietly to himself as he does, “Who the hell wakes up this early,” he swats at the nightstand in an attempt to find his phone, “and who needs a 15 step skincare routine,” finally managing to grasp his phone, but only after knocking a few of the random things he keeps piled on his nightstand, much to Hannibal's dismay, to the ground, “I mean jesus christ Hannibal, just get some damn botox.”

Almost as if summoned by Will’s quiet words of discontent, the door to the bathroom opens and Hannibal steps back out into the room, seeming shocked to have woken Will when he spots the younger man awake and reading something on his phone. The shock on the cannibal’s face stirs up another bout of irritation inside Will; why is he acting surprised? Hannibal's morning routine has woken Will more times than he can count in the few months that they had been living together in the small home. Hannibal makes slow strides over to the bed where Will is now looking at him with poorly masked annoyance, “I’m sorry if I woke you,” the man says, entirely too chipper and awake sounding for Will’s taste, “I was trying to be quiet.”

Will lets out a displeased huff at this, choosing to forgo a response. He spares Hannibal a short glance before focusing back on the article he had been reading on his phone, the older man sighs at this before moving to the closet to retrieve his clothes for the day. Will was glad the man’s fashion taste had become significantly more tame since they had settled into the home in argentina, he supposes it's probably due in part to Hannibal not having anywhere to get the clothes near where they’re staying, but Will wouldn’t put it past the man to have the clothes shipped in from somewhere else, and if anyone could find a tailor near where they reside it would be Hannibal.

Honestly Will isn’t a hundred percent sure why the change in Hannibal's choice in garment had occurred, Will is almost certain that he hadn't seen the cannibal wear a tie in the entire time they've been living together, let alone his previous daily attire of carefully tailored three piece suits. Hannibal now opting to wear a wardrobe of mostly linen, the flowy material good for staying cool in the warm environment they now reside in; Will supposes the temperature of the country they've been staying in might have something to do with the change, he would imagine that the humidity might make a polyester blend a bit impractical.

He watches the man dress as his thoughts unfold, he had never anticipated his life turning out this way, but he isn’t upset about it, even though sometimes he feels like he should be. The guilt that used to haunt his every waking moment now only graces him on rare occasions. He’s always able to stamp the guilt down as quickly as it arrives now with a silent acknowledgement that his guilt will not purify him; guilt does not make you innocent. Is the man that sobs out apologies at his trial any less of a murderer than the man that doesnt?

He’s broken from his thoughts by the sound of Hannibal shutting the closet door with a gentle thud, the man pausing to look in the floor length mirror he had insisted on having in the room momentarily, the same mirror that Will had only agreed to have in the room so long as it was not facing the bed in any way. Seemingly satisfied with his appearance he turns and faces the bed where Will sits watching him.

When he spots the look Will is giving him his features soften slightly, “I’m going to make some coffee dear,” the pet names were also a new addition that had seemed to come with the shared house, “I will start on a light breakfast in an hour or so.”

Will meets his eyes then, offering a small smile despite the irritation of being woken up this early that still simmered gently within him, “I’ll be out in a bit.”

the response seems to satisfy the older man because he nods at this before leaving the room to begin making what is no doubt a very overly complicated pot of coffee. Will misses shitty coffee every once in a while, don't get him wrong the stuff Hannibal makes is amazing, but Will still occasionally craves the bitter watered down coffee that you’d find in small diners and gas stations. Hannibal would probably have an aneurysm if he were to catch Will drinking the stuff now, he muses silently, the thought causing a small huff of laughter to escape him before he can stop it.

There were a lot of things that Will hadn't considered when he had thrown them over the cliff. He wasn't trying to kill them, at least he doesn't think he was, he honestly still wasn’t quite sure what his plan was when he had pulled Hannibal into the water with him. He doesn't dwell on this line of thinking for long, choosing not to rehash an internal conversation that he’s had on many occasions in the months they had been living in the home together.

Will hadn't really considered what it would be like to live with the cannibal before he had plunged them into that freezing water; he finds himself wishing that he had quite frequently though, especially when Hannibal wakes him up with the noise of his excessive morning routine.

Will had never really given much thought of what living with the cannibal would be like prior to their dive, at least not in any practical way. He had imagined what it would be like to wake up next to Hannibal, he’d found himself fantasizing frequently about drifting to sleep tangled with the man.

Funnily enough, his fantasies never included the way the cannibal lived his day to day life when Will wasn't present, they never included how Hannibal would go about mundane everyday tasks. He really wishes he had; he’s always known, at least on some level, that the man was eccentric and particular, he just hadn’t anticipated all of his quirks.

He regrets not considering all of the little things, like the man's obsession with his morning and night routines, or the way he mutters quietly to himself when he reads at night next to Will in bed, that one Will finds particularly frustrating; he remembers confronting Hannibal about it one night as they lied in bed one evening about a month into their stay. He lets out a soft puff of air as he recalls the memory.

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Will had been growing increasingly more and more frustrated with the sounds of Hannibal reading; prior to living with the man, he had considered reading to be an almost silent activity, yet here Hannibal was disproving that notion in a way that made Will want to tear the book from his hands.

Hannibal let out a please hum at what he was reading, drumming his fingers against the back cover of the book, “How interesting,” the sound of a page turning grated against Will's nerves and added to the growing irritation he had been feeling; Hannibal made a noise that sounded curious, continuing to drum his fingers against the back. Will wanted to stab him with one of the pens that sat on his cluttered nightstand. Hannibal let out another pleased noise, this one sounding satisfied like he satiated the momentary curiosity that had occurred from the last page before muttering a soft, “Very interesting.”

Will was gonna strangle him. He had never been able to find the strength to go through with it but he reasons he had never had to sit and listen to Hannibal read while he was trying to fall asleep next to him. The sound of another page turning doing nothing to calm the frustration bubbling up inside him; he doesn’t often allow himself to indulge in the fantasies of killing the irritating man but every once in a while Hannibal will do something that annoys Will to the point where he no longer feels any guilt about picturing the man's demise. Hannibal lets out another inquisitive noise and Will fights the urge to reach over and punch him, he’s too angry to even want to kill him at this point, he just wants to get one good lick in.

Hannibal breaths out a contented noise before muttering again, “Very, very interesting.” Will sits up with a speed he didn't know he was capable of, Hannibal jumping slightly as he had assumed the younger man was asleep. Hannibal had never been a very expressive man but in that moment as he stares at a borderline manic looking Will, his expression is that of a deer in headlights.

“Reading is a silent activity!” It comes out as more of a yell than he had intended but Will finds it hard to care, all of the anger that has been steadily building for the last hour reaching a boiling point, “How interesting can a book about-” Will stops quickly, eyes scanning over the cover of the book in Hannibal's hands before letting out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. Will finally noticing that the other man had been reading a book about the migration patterns of different birds in the region; not even attempting to finish the sentence he had started he plows on, “are you fucking kidding me?!”

Hannibal chose not to say anything, his expression now contrite as he closes the book with a soft thud, setting it gently down onto his lap not breaking eye contact with Will, a little afraid that the man might lunge at him if he looks away.

The fight leaves Will almost immediately, huffing out an exacerbated, “un-fucking-believable.” before laying back down with more aggression than Hannibal had thought possible. It’s quiet for a couple minutes, save for the sound of Will’s agitated breathing and the occasional disgruntled mutters emanating from where Will lays facing away from Hannibal. The cannibal can’t pick up on everything that Will is grumbling, the quiet words of anger somewhat muffled against his pillow but he picks up on some of it; a quiet disbelieving, “fucking birds.” Hannibal misses the rest of what he says but the cannibal understands the message, finally moving to set the book on the nightstand. The older man sits motionless for a few moments after setting the book down until Will snaps out an angered, “Go the hell to bed Hannibal.”

Normally Hannibal would push back, abhorring the rudeness of Will’s statement but in that moment he decides not to argue with the empath; He decides to simply flick off the lamp and lay down against his pillow. He reaches out to pull Will to his chest but as soon as Will feels the man's hand touching his arm he lets out a harsh, “Don’t.”

Hannibal feeling properly scolded in a way that he had rarely felt before decides not to make things worse by pushing, he rolls onto his back and drifts off to the sound of Will’s breath evening out as he finally falls asleep.

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Will is pulled out of the memory by the sound of hannibal calling his name announcing that the coffee was done; He isn't quite sure how long he had been sat there thinking about that night but given how long it takes Hannibal to make coffee with the ridiculous contraption he insists on using Will would wager that its been at least twenty minutes; Will had suggested buying a keurig one morning and he swears to this day that the cannibals eye had started twitching, Will had conceding quickly, worried that the knife Hannibal was using to make breakfast might find its way into his stomach.

Standing up from the bed with a sigh as he stretches his sore muscles; He’s had a back ache since they had taken their tumble, having been on the bottom when they hit the water his back had taken a majority of the damage, the raging water unforgiving as they crashed into it.

Stretching his back one more time with a pained groan, he strides leisurely out of the bedroom and into the kitchen where Hannibal was sat reading something on his tablet, the older man looking up to greet him as he crosses the threshold into the room, “Good morning dear,” Hannibal gestures to the second mug sitting on the table, “I already poured you a cup.” Will offers him a soft smile in return, pulling out the chair closest to the other man before sitting down and pulling the mug towards him.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a bit, the only sounds between them being the gentle clank of mugs being picked up and sat down as they drink their coffee, the domesticity of the act never failing to stir up complicated emotions in will; the empath had never considered how much hannibal would behave like a housewife once they had began living together.

He stares at the Hannibal while he gets lost in thought, his mind filled with memories of multiple events that had taken place in the last couple weeks alone; Some of Hannibal’s behavior and habits seemed more fitting for a forty year old suburban housewife, not a serial killer with a penchant for cannibalism. This thought makes him let out a small chuckle, Hannibal's head snapping towards him at the sound. Hannibal gives an inquisitive hum, his gaze expectant as he locks eyes with Will; Will simply waves a hand at the man's curiosity, deciding to take another sip of his coffee instead of responding.

Will startles at the realization of how domestic they've become, from their frequent bickering to their habit of sitting in comfortable silences simply enjoying the others presence. This realization doesn't scare him the way he thinks it should; something about it feels right, like this is just what was supposed to happen. Will can't help but let out another laugh at the thought, the idea of this outcome being fated is humorous to him in ways he can't quite pinpoint.

At the noise Hannibal looks at him again, watching him for a moment before asking a gentle, “Is something funny?” In response to the question Will gives a gentle shake of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. Hannibal quirks a brow at his reaction, before speaking again, “It sure seems like something is funny,” he sets his tablet down, giving his full attention to Will, “Care to share?”

the empath huffs out another gentle laugh, he shakes his head softly once more before answering, “I’ve just been thinking about birds.”