#a solid half an hour of struggling with his face but once it clicked. oh man he is so shaped dfgfdsfg

[starleska]

✨🎵 are you ready for trouble? got you binge watching! 🎵✨

[kiridarling]

"𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒."

izuku midoriya | friends older brother!izuku + college student!reader + f!reader + squirting + size kink + more! minors dni! does this count? as dark content?

— 2.4k words

"It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

“[Y/N?]”

“Uh, hey Izuku!” You smile, grip tightening around the strap to your bag. Izuku fills the doorway, broad shoulders kissing both sides of the frame, and you can’t help but feel minuscule in comparison. “Kota around?”

Izuku shakes his head, peering over his shoulder for a second before returning his attention to you with a click of his tongue. "Uh, no I think he's out with Eri. They should be back soon though...it's been a few hours."

"Shit," you curse under your breath. Your friend's older brother smiles in apology, biceps straining under his white tee.

"You need something?"

"Yeah," you nod, forcing your eyes back onto his, instead of the broad chest presented at eye-level. "Just my precalc book."

Izuku waits a second, thinking, before his palm claps against the doorframe and he's walking deeper into the house. "Come on in, then! I'm sure he won't mind."

You step into the house after him, and it's...weird. Weird being with your Kota's older brother without Kota there, because despite the thousands of times you've been in your best friend's house and as well as you know the greenette, you and Izuku have never been alone.

"Find it?"

You've been rummaging through Kota's room for a solid ten minutes and somehow still empty-handed, moving slowly in fear you'll see something you can't unsee. And hey, with Kota and Eri dating, anything's possible.

"No," you sigh, ready to give up rather than find a strap-on. "It's fine. I can just come to get it tomorrow or something."

"How soon do you need it?" The greenette asks, his forearms leaning against his younger brother's dresser. You take a seat on Kota's comforter instead, silently hoping you'll find your book by accidentally breaking your tailbone against the damn thing; you're a little disappointed when all your ass comes in contact with is a plush mattress.

"Like, tonight," you grieve, knowing that tomorrow morning, your math grade will suffer severely. "'S fine though. There's always another test."

Izuku snorts at that, crossing the room to take a seat next to you. The bed whines under his weight but doesn't collapse, and you feel a little bad to say you're surprised. Voice full of reminiscence, he sighs, "Ah, the college days."

You giggle, "You act like they're lightyears behind you."

"They might as well be," the greenette shrugs, before reaching behind your waist to steal a pillow. "Couldn't tell you a thing I learned."

You shrug trying to remember the last time you’ve felt prepared for a test, “Neither can I.”

Izuku chuckles and nods, though you’re convinced it’s because he has nothing to say. An awkward silence takes possession of the room by the neck, and you shift awkwardly, unsure of what to say that could give you an excuse to leave, or at least redirect his strange yet heavy gaze. As Izuku licks his lips, you notice how close you two actually are, as he's big to the point where your shoulders almost brush, but not quite.

"How um, hows your boyfriend?"

You scoff at that, but you suppose it's been a while since you and the greenette have talked one on one—and the last time you had, you weren't single.

"Oh uh, he's fine, I guess," you brush it off with a shrug and a wave, cringing at the thought of how that ended. "I don't know. We broke up a while ago, so."

"Oh sorry!" Izuku flushes and throws a hand over his mouth, and you giggle.

"You're fine. He was an asshole anyway," you chuck a laugh, but it's not really that funny. Frankly, he's left too many emotional scars to count, along with the ones healing from past exes. "I...don't have a good reputation when it comes to picking boyfriends."

“So, I’ve heard—no offense,” he says sheepishly, though you don't blame him. You've definitely had a few surprise visits caused by a nasty break-up or two, knowing this is the place you'll probably find both of your best friends hiding out. When Izuku speaks again, it’s borderline awkward as his eyes dart around the room, cheeks puffed and lips pursed in apprehension. “Found...anyone new?”

You frown, “Anyone new.”

“Yeah!” Izuku exclaims, and it’s almost encouraging. “Like a new boyfriend.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Um, no. Like I said, I don’t have much luck with that type of stuff.”

Izuku snorts, rolling his eyes before he’s adjusting himself to lay on the pillow, half of his body upright. “I bet you do. You might not realize it, but you do.”

Now it’s your turn to snort and roll your eyes, leaning back on your hands with a huff. "You're just being nice, Izuku."

"No, seriously!" He props himself higher so you can see he really is serious, evergreen eyes locked and deadset, "Like—okay, and this might be a TMI or something, but how do they, y'know, and then be dicks, y'know?"

"They don't."

"They don't...what?"

"They don't...make me cum," you heave with great depression, despite the seemingly surface-level complaint. With wrists tightening around your ankles, you hate uncomfortably in the silence, and watch Izuku's mouth open and close, before it opens and closes again.

"Like...never?"

"No." You give him a weird look.

"But what about your last boyfriend? I thought he—"

"I don't know what you're looking for, Izuku," you chuckle, shaking your head. The greenette seems more pained than he is shocked, eyes wide with a big fat pout in place of a neutral face. "It's not like I haven't had an orgasm before. Just...not with someone else."

"That's not the same!" Izuku defends, slowly becoming more animated than you've ever seen him. "It's like...more passionate with another person, you know? And that makes everything a whole lot hotter."

"Thanks," you huff, mood souring more than it already has. Izuku's mouth stills once he realizes what he's essentially bragging, guilt clouding his face. As you exhale out of your nose, you can't escape feeling bad for snapping. "Look. I'm perfectly fine with being the only person to be able to make myself cum. It's not that deep."

"You sound like you expect no one to be able to," Izuku snorts with a raised eyebrow, shoulders bumping against yours. "You've just...had bad boyfriend luck. That doesn't mean no one's capable of doing it."

"Well," you click your tongue bitterly, because you've heard all of this before, and you're utterly tired of hearing it. "They've been able to make all their exes orgasm. And it's not like it even matters, relationships aren't abou—"

"I could do it."

"I—" you blink, shaking your head at the pure audacity of his request? Suggestion? Comment? Whatever the fuck. "Excuse me?"

"I—wait, listen," Izuku rushes like you're getting ready to book it the fuck out of there, sitting upright so his body is turned to yours. "You're...it's...I've been told I'm good with my fingers, right?"

And what a way to start a story.

"Izuku, in the nicest way, every guy is like this," you scoff, "He thinks he's all that just because a chick or two said you made her feel really good. I don't need to fake another orgasm."

"You won't have to," Izuku purrs cockily, leaning forwards on his hands and making you wonder where all of this is coming from. "Let's play a game of simon says, yeah?"

"Simon—" your chest collapses with a giggle of pure disbelief, "I'm not that much younger than you, you know."

"I wouldn't be offering if you were," the greenette reasons, eyes growing dark slowly, if any. "Yes or no?"

"What's the catch?" You bargain and Izuku huffs a laugh. You can feel it on your face.

"No catch, Pretty," he hums, and you can feel the vibrations in your fingers. "It's simple: I'll stuff you full with two fingers, but they only do what simon says. Understand?"

You gulp as Izuku lifts a hand—and a very large one, at that—and it's jagged and rough with scars and bulky knuckles. His free hand makes you grab his wrist and you're fingertips barely touch, but you’re pulling his hand south by your own volition.

“Gotta take your pants off first,” he chuckles, and you flush red. That would be helpful, yes.

It doesn't take long before they're off though, flung towards a corner somewhere—and this is when you realize that maybe, you shouldn't do this on Kota's bed.

"Izuku maybe we shoul—"

But before you can say anything else, he's pushing your panties to the side and shoving both fingers into you at once, eyebrows folding as he groans under his breath from the sensation.

"So wet already? Clearly, someone likes this more than they let on."

"I—what the fuck happened to simon says!" You yelp, but his fingers don't move. Izuku just beams like the deceptive asshole he is.

"Game starts now," is all he says, and you're huffing, propping yourself up on your elbows. Izuku's fingers might as well have knocked the wind out of you, lungs struggling to find room to breathe as he curls his fingers to tap directly onto your g-spot with worrying precision.

"Simon says um, move please," you grunt out. Izuku's fingers stay still, and you frown, kicking him in the thigh. "Hey, I sai—"

"You gotta be more specific than that, Pretty,” he says with a grin. You snarl. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

"I..." you start, but it's fucking embarrassing, and you know Izuku feels you twitch around him when you say: "Can you um, fuck me with your fingers."

He doesn't move.

"Simon says fuck me with your fingers, asshole," you grunt with narrowed eyes, though they widen when he starts to pump his fingers in and out, chuckling when you shiver from the dexterity.

Except, his fingers move painfully slow, and you find yourself gritting your teeth at the speed when he doesn't make an effort to go any faster. You click your tongue—he's really going to make you request everything, isn't he?

"Simon says faster," you growl with a challenge burning in your eyes, and Izuku meets them with equal fire, fingers finally forgetting their torturous pace for a much quicker one. Finally.

"Fuck! Simo—simon says right t-there," your legs spread wider and Izuku makes more room for himself in between. He hums with dark eyes as you whimper and whine his name, writhing in his younger brother's sheets like they belong to him—like you belong to him.

"I wanna touch you all the time, you know," Izuku grunts before cursing at the sight of your wetness around his fingers. "Make you feel good, make you mine. I don't think Kota would approve, though."

"We don—" you wheeze and he places a hand next to your head, towering over you. The angle only gets better, your hands digging into the sheets as Izuku's fingers curl just right. "We don't have to tell him."

Izuku chuckles at that, chest rumbling as he leans in closer to the point where your noses nearly touch. "You dirty fucking girl."

You moan at that, hips bucking into his hand. You're so close and yet you need more, something else to push you over the edge for good. With a whimper behind a bitten lip, you say, "S-Simon says rub my clit."

Izuku's thumb falls upon your clit and you squeal from the amount of initial pressure, thighs jolting from the white-hot waves that pump through your bloodstream as his thumb moves in small, ever-quickening circles that have you gripping for Kota's comforter for dear life.

"Iz—Izuku I'm gonna—g-gonna cum," you pant, and he's ripping his hands away before you can even reach a hint of the edge. You glare at him out of pure and utter betrayal, and he beams.

"Simon didn't say, did he?"

Your mouth flies open before your brain has time to process it all, "Simon says make me cum, p-please, I need to—fuck!"

Izuku's stuffing you full with his fingers in an instant and his thumb returns to its rightful place.

"Yeah? You gonna cum for me, Pretty?" His hands somehow find the energy to speed up to the point where the clap of his palm against your pussy fills the room, slowly being replaced by a lewd squelch as you tighten around him. He chuckles when all you can do is whimper, grappling for his big shoulders as he says, "Oh, yes she is. So fucking close I can feel it."

You let out a broken moan and in a blink you're squirting, body buzzing as you make a big wet mess of Kota's sheets. It doesn't even register how screwed you two are because you're too busy wading waist-deep in the sea of Izuku's eyes, chest heaving in time with his as he gives you a look of pure awe. Not at what you've done, per se, but at you, and that's when you understand it—the passion.

"We should uh, probably clean up," Izuku flushes as he chuckles, cheeks pressing into the crescents of his face, and you find yourself smiling along with him. With a final click, he pulls his fingers out, gesturing to a circular wet spot on his now see-through shirt. "You made quite a mess."

Fuck the passion.

You shove your fists into his chest and Izuku laughs, pushing your hands away with his one dry free hand, wiping the wet one on Kota's sheets.

"Izuku!" You gasp, looking at the new and improved addition to your mess. The greenette shrugs.

"What? We're going to have to clean it anyway," he shrugs before assuming the dry spot to your right and nestling his forearms in the pillow to peck you on the forehead. Then he freezes.

"I uh...am I allowed to do that?"

You roll your eyes, grabbing him by his squirt-soaked shirt to pull him into a kiss. Izuku hums at that, suppressing the urge to smile as his big hands find their way to your waist. He's an annoyingly good kisser

"No, you're not," you say with swollen lips once you pull away. Izuku grins, teeth digging into his bottom lip as his eyes flutter to yours for a moment, before they're staring into your soul again.

"I like you," he boldly states, albeit quietly, like he's talking to your eyes and nothing else. "Like, a lot."

"I—" You start, but you're interrupted by a click of a lock and the sound of the front door opening. Shit.

"Oi! We're home, Izuku!"

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 9.2

"Oh my god!"  Your shriek nearly deafened the yaksha while your nails dug into his shoulder and back.  The wind whipped your hair into both of your faces, much to his dismay as he struggled to keep track of his footing.  "This is crazy! This is awesome!" Another leap and your heart dropped to your stomach in a fashion that sucked the breath out of your lungs.  "W-wait this is terrifying!  Xiao!  Slow down!"  

You asked for this yet have the audacity to panic?  Xiao tensed under the increasing grip around his body and made another leap.  Well, a 'leap' is a bit of an understatement; whether he was teleporting or zipping through the air, you couldn't tell--it happened so fast your mind couldn't keep up.  The two of you were nearing the top of Mount Tianheng, and with every 'jump' he took you'd look down to find another fifty or so feet added to the distance between you two and the ground.

Just as Xiao was beginning to think you wanted him to stop, an exasperated laugh left your lips.  "This is awesome!"

The yaksha clicked his tongue at the myriad of sounds you were making.  First you were screaming with excitement, then terror, then laughing, and now you're gasping?  Will you just make up your mind? Are you scared or not scared?  He couldn't keep up with your quick switches just as you couldn't keep up with his speed.

And then there was the fact that you asked him specifically to carry you up the mountain, not climb up with you or merely teleport to the top.  Was this the duty of a boy friend?  He didn't recall you ordering Aether to carry you at all during your travels.  Minus the time you had your leg clawed by that lawachurl, but that doesn't really count--

His feet lightly landed onto the grass at the top of the mountain and he stilled, stealing a glance at your profile.  "We're here."  Archons, your grip finally relaxed against his stinging skin.  He was expecting that classic dumbfounded look on your face, but you pulled away with the widest--and dumbest--grin once your feet lowered to the ground.

"That was amazing-!" You nearly lost your balance from the vertigo of travelling so quickly, but Xiao grabbed your arm before you could stumble over the edge of the cliff.  "Can we do that again?"

"You can't be serious," his eyes narrowed in disdain.  

"One hundred percent! Come on, please?"

Wha-What is this all of a sudden?!  Xiao averted his eyes the second your pleading ones took hold.  He let go of your arm as his gaze fell to the grass.  

You couldn't contain the gasp within your lips, "You're...blushing?"  You don't remember if it's happened before, but the very tips of his ears were pink and it was painfully obvious in the sunlight of late morning.  "Xiao, the Vigilant Yaksha, BLUSHING?!"

"I suggest you keep your quips to a minimum unless you--"

"I can't believe this is happening! What did I do to make you blush? You're ears are bright red!"  Your hands cupped the sides of your face as you freaked out.  He was so neutral when it came to emotion, but the past sixteen hours or so he's shown you more of his vulnerable side.  But the adeptus was visibly showing emotion! "This never happened before!"

"There's nothing timid about you, having the courage to mock me.  So fight me," he started to raise his glare from the ground.  "How long do you think your body will last against my blows?"

"Rex Lapis must've blessed me-!"  

In your excitement, you failed to remember that the ledge was right behind you.  One second you were laughing your ass off with a face as bright red as Xiao's, and the next you were flailing breathlessly in the air attempting to find solid ground.  Xiao's figure shrunk at the top of the cliff as you plummeted.  The shock rendered you unable to scream and instead you gasped for breath as the wind whistled in your ears.

Xiao lifted his gaze in time to watch you fall over, and he simply moved so that his gaze could still follow your shrinking figure.  "It's a wonder humans survived this long," he muttered with a slightly amused expression.  Does she not realize she has her wind glider?  He failed to notice the corner of his lips curling upward.  

He had no intention of letting you plummet to your death.  But after the stunt you just pulled on him, he figured it wouldn't hurt to tease you a bit too.  You were by no means anywhere near the ground or any other hazardous objects; his enhanced vision and depth perception confirmed it.  Why not let you fall a bit?  Maybe your wits would return to you and you'd actually remember the glider attached to your back.

Three...four...five...Xiao counted the seconds.  You were nearly half-way down the cliffside.  ...Six...She's not going to remember, is she?  Seven..."Tch." He prepared to jump.

I-I'm going to die!  You finally managed to inhale a reasonable amount of air, not daring to peek behind you at the ground that was closing in.  Your thoughts were racing with nothing but panic.  Think, think! Think of something! You wanted to smack yourself when you remembered who accompanied you.  He wouldn't just let you die like this, it was stupid of you to even forget that much!  You involuntarily reached for the cliffside where Xiao was now nothing but a miniscule dot in the distance.  

"Xiao!"

Warm arms wrapped themselves around you the instant his name fell from your lips, and the familiar sensation of teleporting enveloped you.  You spun around and hugged him as tightly as you could the second your feet touched the ground.  He didn't even tense up this time--

"You didn't remember your glider," he pointed out nonchalantly.  Almost teasingly.

"That's why you just stood there?!"  He grumbled something you couldn't hear and returned your embrace with his head buried at the crook of your neck.  His ears were still red.  Are you telling me this is how he acts when he's shy?!  

The two of you stayed in that position for awhile, never quite loosening your hold on the other as if to ensure they wouldn't float away like an anemo slime or a bloaty floaty.  A cool breeze slid across your skin--an intimate gesture Xiao wouldn't dare outright commit, much less think of.  And yet the wind entangled itself in your hair much like his hand would clasp around your nape.  It seemed to embody the long-lost gentleness of the yaksha.  It was subtle.  Soft.  An indirect display of affection.  Maybe it was just your imagination.

Just awhile longer, Xiao's heart yearned as he held you close until rational thought returned to power.  Your absence would sting more now that he's seen you, but that didn't take away from the fact that this visit allowed the sealing of your bond, and therefore saved you from a painful demise for the time being.  The last thing he wanted was for you to return to Childe, but maybe this is what would prevent his karma from touching you.  The farther you are from him, the safer you'd be.

But for right now, just awhile longer, he'll allow himself to drown in your warmth.

...................

"You seem more than eager to get back to work, Mezzetin," Childe teased as he led you through the halls of the palace.  The two of you had just returned to Snezhnaya, but the Tsaritsa had apparently no intentions of letting either of you rest after your long journey.  

"Don't mistake my happiness for the Lantern Rite as happiness for the Tsaritsa's operations.  I'm only cooperating to keep the peace in Teyvat."  

"So, when are you going to tell me what you and Xiao did?"

"Excuse me?  Since when is my private life any of your business?"

"I have the right to know since you so blatantly disobeyed my orders not to leave the harbor."  Childe grabbed the door handle and faced you.  "I expected more professionalism from you, but honestly, I'm not at all surprised," he baited with narrowed eyes.  "I could tell the Tsaritsa, you know."

Your heart seemed to skip a beat at the thought of facing her again.  Something about that nightmare you had when you were with Xiao ignited a vague fear of her that you didn't really have before.  You swallowed hard before jutting your chin up at the harbinger.  "Do it."

"Oh?"  Childe squinted as he towered over you.  

"Do it," you repeated.  "Who do you think she'll discipline more, since it was a certain harbinger's idea to bring me along and didn't properly watch me?"  Childe stared at you for a few silent seconds before twisting the door handle and entering Dottore's lab without another word.  Yeah, that's what I thought.

"GAHHHHH!"  A deafening, sickening cry of pain snapped you out of your gloating session.  It was much like the rest that you've heard; the test subjects of Dottore were often strangers to mercy.  But unlike the trials before, there were no piles of bodies lying in the middle of the arena.

"Did he just start for the day?"  You forcefully peeled your eyes away from the suffering man and kept them on Childe.  It would be unusual if he did; he started in the early morning hours, but you and Childe had arrived in mid-afternoon.  

"Dunno," he shrugged slightly.  

"Ah! Childe."  Dottore noticed your presences and gave a signature manic grin, his arms spreading wide.  "We have made a breakthrough!"

"This doesn't look like a breakthrough to me," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.  Anger flickered across the masked man's face before he reset his eyes on his fellow harbinger.

"This is the fifth subject of the day."  The man's cold stare eyed the suffering Fatui agent with something similar to a sadistic excitement.  "It appears your idea to bring that brat with you succeeded."

You didn't hear Dottore, intent on watching the Fatui agent closely.  He had finally stopped shrieking, and he pushed himself to his feet rather unsteadily while wiping the sweat away from his forehead.  He was healthy despite being drenched in sweat and breathing heavily while he recovered from the subsiding pain.  You let out a sigh of relief you didn't know you were holding in.  You didn't have to watch another person die at your feet--

Wait a minute.  He wasn't dying.

A cool shiver crawled down your spine at the realization, and you flinched when a manic laugh escaped Dottore.  "That was the original serum at work.  How's that for a breakthrough, brat?"

"That's...impossible," you uttered with wide eyes.

"Thank your superior for making it possible."

Your attention slid to Childe, who didn't bother to look you in the eye.  His expression was unreadable, and it remained that way when he escorted you to your room in silence.  His presence couldn't feel more hostile in that moment.

"You...my bond...," you choked when the two of you were at the door of your room.  "You lied.  You used me! You used our bond for your own selfish purposes!  How could you?"

"Don't start this, Mezzetin," a weary sigh left him as he turned to you.  His allegedly guilty appearance only infuriated you.  

"Outside, now."

The second the two of you were outside the palace walls, you let yourself snap into a fit of rage.  Childe had barely started to turn around when an ice shard shot at his face, slicing across his cheek.  His blood splattered onto the snow, and he wiped at his face to examine his blood on his fingers.  "Mezzetin--"

"Don't 'Mezzetin' me!"  Hundreds more icicles shot at him in a flurry until he had no choice but to defend himself and summon his hydro blades to parry the blows.  "This was the last straw!  I'll kill you!"

"Then I'll be more than happy to give you a fight."  Despite his usual excitement when it came to battle, he was calm and collected, even so much as cold and distant.  He lacked the usual spark fighting always gave him.  His eyes were empty and lacking of enthusiasm.

"Tch."  Your vision glinted in the sunlight as the temperature surrounding you dropped below zero.  Snow whipped through the air to create a barricade that caged the two of you in a small arena.  The blizzard made the snowflakes like needles that could cut through skin if one got too close to the edge.  Your own powers seldom hurt you, but in your anger, a few rogue icicles cut across your forehead, arms, and your back.

At the pace you were going at, it was self-destructive.

Childe noted this as he parried your every attack despite his blades turning frozen solid now.  "Mezzetin!  Keep this up, and I won't hold back!"  His warning fell on deaf ears.

"What makes you think I want you to hold back?  I'm settling this here and NOW!"  The snow beneath his feet erupted, sending him spiraling out of the eye of the storm and into the blizzard's rage.  You summoned your polearm without hesitation and began to walk towards him.  

His arms were stuck to his blades, which were stuck in the ground.  He must've attempted to summon a new set and accidentally froze his limbs.  He watched you approach, hunched over to shield himself from the blizzard.

"You said visiting him would be good for me!"  Your screams were carried away by the wind.  "That you realized your own selfishness!  This was nothing but more manipulation, wasn't it? You're NOTHING but a lying monster!"  The wind grew harsher.  Your blade grew sharper once you were a few feet from him.

Cold eyes looked down upon the Tsaritsa's war dog.  What a pathetic site it was; an esteemed harbinger on his knees before you.  A harsh kick to his jaw dislodged his hands from the ice they were trapped in, and more blood was splattered onto the snow.

"That's it," a smile of satisfaction spread across Childe's lips, making your eyes narrow in disgust.  "You're finally showing potential."  He sat up with his back to you.  "If you constantly fight like this, I'd listen to you more carefully."

"Shut up--!"  Your lance stabbed at his figure, but in one fluid motion he swung around and deflected your blade with his hand.  A sudden burst of electricity sent you flying several feet backwards.  "Ngh!"

"But unfortunately for you, ojou-chan, you misinterpreted the entire situation."  Your clearing vision settled on the electro delusion that glinted at his hip.  His figure stood over you and a sharp, hot pain tore through your side.

"Gah!"  

"I have the right to discipline my subordinates as I see fit," he twisted his blade and dug it deeper into you, completely uncaring that you were squirming around and twitching from the electric shocks pulsing through your body.  "Listen closely, girlie, because I won't say it again."  You desperately clawed at his weapon, but he held it firmly in place and refused to remove it.  "You needn't tell me what you learned from Mr. Zhongli or your adeptus boyfriend.  I don't care for that information.

"My bringing you back to Liyue was truly for your own benefit, and it just so happens it was for the Tsaritsa's benefit as well.  Make no mistake Mezzetin, I am on your side when it comes to private life.  But when it comes to work and the Tsaritsa, my loyalty lies with Snezhnaya.

"I don't care if you don't believe me.  If you so badly want to escape the Tsaritsa's grasp, you have much to learn.  Patience, for starters."  He ripped his blade out of you.  "Don't take this too personally, ojou-chan.  I don't condone disorderly conduct from anyone under my supervision."

[jungkookiebus]

Hellblazer  pt. 1 | jjk

Genre: demon!au, smut Rating: M  Pairing: demon!Jungkook x FemConstantine!reader Warnings: demonic possession, wounds that would correlate with a “possession”, minor character death, mentions of suicide, rough sex, hair pulling, face sitting, multiple orgasms Summary: “Few people really think about dying... paranoids worry about it without really understanding it. Victims of fatal accidents and murder don't have time to think. You only really think about it if you take the time to. And you only take the time if you know it's going to happen.” -John Constantine, Dangerous Habits Pt. 1: The Beginning of the End, Issue #41. Author’s Note: You can blame the concept photos from today. Also, a kind anon requested it. :D

The girl’s deep, otherworldly screams filled the room as you secured her hand to the headboard.

“Hold her down!” you yelled.

Three men were on each corner of the bed trying to hold the frantic young woman down as she thrashed and threatened to rip everyone’s balls off.

Just your run of the mill demonic possession.

Sweat began to roll down your brow as you fought her. You were strong and equally strong willed, but these men were either scared to hurt her or scared of her. Probably both. She gnashed her teeth in your direction, spit flying, and her black eyes were focused on yours.

“You’ll never fucking get me out of here, Hellblazer,” she growled.

“Oh yea? Then how come you’re letting me tie you to this bed?” you struggled out as you planted your foot on the edge and pulled with all your strength on the rope.

“Your blood is just like mine. Why fight us?” her growls filled the room.

The priest that was residing over this possession was tucked away in the corner, clutching his Bible as if his life depended on it, and maybe it did. The girl’s mother cried in the arms of her husband begging the demon to let her little girl go. Apparently, she had been possessed for months and when the priest was at a dead end, he contacted you.

Little did they know was that you were doomed to fail. You always tried, though, to redeem yourself for your sins; hoping that helping others would make up for what you had done.

When she was sufficiently tied down, you moved to your leather bag to pull out the relics you had brought. You always moved through the same motions, knowing what you were doing was right, but never quite getting there; a punishment in which you wish you could be freed.

The cross you held out in front of you pissed off the demon as it should since it was made from the same wood from Christ’s crucifixion, having been passed down through your family for thousands of years. Or so your dad had said.

“Sancte Michael,”

Saint Michael,

“defende nos in proelio”

Defend us in battle.

The demon writhed against its bindings as you continued the prayer.

“ut non pereamus”

That we might not perish.

“You’re going to hell with me, you bitch!”

She was pulling so hard now that the bindings were beginning to cut into her skin. Her eyes fluctuated from solid black to her natural green and back again. The veins were black and blue against her paper white skin, her hair was sparse where she had been pulling it out, and her body was covered in bruises. The demon was essentially killing her from the inside out.

“in tremendo iudicio.”

At the dreadful judgment.

Two hours later and the girl was gone. Yet another failed exorcism. As if you felt like this would go any differently. You told the uncle who was there to help it was probably because the demon had been inside of her for so long. At least it was half true.

You shielded your hand as you lit a cigarette, took a long inhale before holding it and releasing it into the air. Standing outside on the cobblestone street, you squinted up past the dim streetlights and up into the night sky. The stars sparkled above you, ever present and totally oblivious to the shit show going on down here. You suddenly wished that you were among them, burning until you exploded and became part of the universe once more. Maybe then your stardust would land on some other planet that didn’t see shit like that. But maybe there was a Hell there too.

Your boots clicked on the uneven, wet stone. Looking down at your watch you saw it was three a.m. The night was cool, it had just rained, and you breathed in deeply the fresh air. Your lungs expanded appreciatively, with no sickness, not anymore at least. You took another drag of the cigarette, noticing you were burning through it quickly. Your nerves were still on edge from the exorcism and you knew you’d be thinking about it for weeks before the nagging feeling of failure went away.  

“Hello, little demon hunter,” you heard from the shadows of an alley you were passing.

You stopped, frozen in your tracks, but it wasn’t uncommon for you to meet unwanted people…or creatures for that matter from time to time. You made a mental checklist of every weapon and talisman on your body as you swiveled on your heel. Clicking the safety off your handgun, you pulled it from under your coat and pointed it into the darkness. You heard the click of a tongue in the darkness.

“That won’t do much.” It was a male voice, smooth as silk but layered in heat. Hell had a certain dialect and you knew that lilt anywhere. You were the only human that you knew that could travel through Purgatory, Hell, and Earth.

You saw the shine of his eyes even though none of the streetlamps reached into the darkness and you knew the dreadful darkness was made even darker by him.

“Then come out if you’re so tough,” you challenged.

He was a beautiful sight, as were most demons you had encountered, but this one was different. Based on his clothing; black turtleneck underneath an equally black blazer, dark jeans, and shiny boots, he was one of the higher denizens of Hell if not a general. One you had never met at that.

“What’s your name?” you asked, not lowering the gun.

“Why would I tell you that? Just so you can banish me?”

You scoffed as you squared the gun right between his eyes from that distance.

“I told you that won’t work.”

“Yea? Maybe I have special demon killing bullets since you seem to know me so well.”

“It’s not like I can possess you.”

“But you can kill me.”

“I can ensure you that I do not want to kill you.” He held his hands up defensively.

You examined his face. His hair was pushed to the side, exposing his forehead and the smooth expanse of his skin. You noticed a few tattoos on his fingers and hands as he raised them, but you still couldn’t figure out who he was, and you usually prided yourself in knowing everyone and everything from Hell. It was the smaller demons, the ones that possessed humans, that you didn’t know. The generals and Princes of Hell didn’t lower themselves to possession unless it was someone they desperately wanted. You knew of one Pope that was possessed for his entire career.

“Are you scared, ____?” he smiled.

“I’m never scared of your kind.”

He made a face like he was hurt by your words, clutching one of his hands to his heart. You saw a crown on one of his fingers and a few other odd shapes you couldn’t make out. Who was he? Then you saw the sigil when he moved a little closer. It was a small brooch on his lapel, and you didn’t need to make out the rest when you saw the gold glint of goat horns. He was of blood in the House of Satan, but who?

“Please lower the gun?” he asked innocently. His eyes softened as he looked at you and he dropped his other hand to his side, the other still firmly planted over his heart.

For some reason your resolve deflated. Slowly, you lowered your gun and by the time it was by your side, the man wore a wide smile.

Such a pretty smile…

You shook your head, bringing up the hand still holding the gun to press the ball of your palm into your temple. Eyes screwed shut, you willed yourself to think logically.

“What are you doing to me?” Your breath came out a little more erratic than you would have liked.

He looked even more innocent, eyes almost on the verge of watering as he stepped just a little closer to you. The tension between your brows relaxed and your hand dropped once more. He looked a little more satisfied this time as he approached. The clatter of your gun hitting the stones didn’t make it to your ears. Around you, the world seemed muffled. It felt as if cotton had been stuffed into them. A passing car, a person’s laugh, and crickets sounded around you, but you were deaf to everything but him. You still heard his footfalls the closer he walked. His grin was turning up at the corners and for a second he seemed wicked and a trickle of fear ran down your spine.

“Poor little demon hunter.” His voice dropped an octave as he stuffed both hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That exorcism didn’t work. They never do.”

This time his smile was wicked, and you felt exposed. He looked at you as if you were something to eat while still exploring your face for any change in your expression. You tried to not let your emotions show. You knew exactly where this was going.

Now, he was right in front of you. Dangerously close as your chest heaved in mild panic. You felt rooted to the ground. The world was no longer muffled, it was hauntingly silent. He leaned in closer and he smelled like a freshly burned out campfire with just the slightest hint of sulphur. His cheek was a hairsbreadth away from yours when he spoke again.

“That little suicide of yours will never be redeemed. You’re too selfish for that.”

Heat flushed through your body as the panic set in. He placed his hand over your heart now, pressing into your skin as he felt your heart beat furiously in your chest.

“And I know your soul is no longer in here.”

Your mouth was dryer than a desert by this point.

“But your blood is just like mine. It sings to me and I’ve never felt that before.”

His hand slowly slid up your chest and to your neck where he let his hand lay loosely there. His skin burned hotly on yours, further providing evidence that he was more than likely higher than a general. The higher you got the hotter the fire burned.

“And I’m not so sure I like that quite yet.”

His voice contained a mild threat. You had encountered many a demon and even Satan himself, been through the circles of Hell many times, and heard the cries of those stuck in Purgatory; but this type of fear was different. You were in awe of him, but at the same time completely repelled. You weren’t interested in seeing him in his demon form any time soon either.  

His lips brushed your cheek as he turned his face. He wet his lips as he paused against your skin.

“But I’m more than willing to find out,” he breathed.

His grip on your neck tightened and you felt your body flush with a different kind of heat as your eyes fluttered shut. Why? you asked yourself. Why were you doing this? The rational part of your brain was starting to be overpowered by the irrational.

“You want to as well,” he whispered. “I can feel it in that soulless body of yours. You’re just as empty as me.”

You grabbed his wrist and he gasped at the coldness of your skin. Your eyes came open to meet his as he leaned away from you. They were no longer human, no, those baby brown eyes were now replaced with a solid black with a deep red burning within. A quick rush of wind surrounded you, enveloping you so tightly that you couldn’t breathe, your lungs constricted as you fought to take a breath, and right as your eyes started to burn, air filled your lungs as your back hit a soft surface.

You gasped for breath, enjoying the burn of oxygen flooding your lungs, before a pair of lips were on yours. He was over you and you felt an expensive silk blanket beneath your fingers. His tongue slipped passed your teeth and he moaned as he got his first taste. You dared to explore as yours brushed passed a suspiciously sharp tooth.

“Hmmm, careful,” he smiled as he pulled away from you.

He sat up, bringing you with him, and was slipping your jacket from your shoulders before you knew what was happening. He then reached for the hem of the sweater you wore underneath and pulled it up and off. Your mind could barely keep up as he examined you. His eyes focused on exactly what he was looking for. A scar. The sigil of Lucifer was burned into your skin over your heart. He ran his finger gingerly over it and you took his distraction as a chance to look around. You were sat on a large, four poster bed in an opulently decorated room. But it was so, so dark and not in just a way that you were standing outside at night, but the feeling was there as well. The shadows were omnipresent and seemed to be teeming with some dark fear. You could tell that there was a large fur rug before a roaring fire, but there seemed to be a dark gray film over everything. The only thing you could see in full color was him. He seemed to almost glow in the darkness, his alabaster skin absorbing any light it could.

“A deal’s a deal, huh?” he asked rhetorically.

He leaned down again, capturing your jaw in his palms and kissed you, inhaling deeply as he lowered you back down. He kissed hotly along your neck, suddenly desperate for more.

And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You grasped tightly at his jacket, feeling the metal of the brooch dig into your finger. He smoothly pulled the jacket off and broke away from your skin just enough to pull the last layer over his head. Blearily, you looked at him and noticed his chest was covered in tattoos, there were some runes you recognized, but beyond that you weren’t sure. They seemed to wrap underneath his arms and disappear behind him as well.

“Don’t look too close, angel,” he said as he dipped low, flicking the front clasp of your bra open, and attaching his lips to your nipple.

You moaned, chest arching, as he sucked on the sensitive nerve endings. His hand was on your stomach, fingers splayed across your skin as he pushed you further into the mattress.

Dread seeped through your bones when at the same time he was pouring warm honey into you. You were in the deepest depths of Hell. No normal human could survive here, but when you didn’t have a soul the effect wasn’t so bad. Regardless, you had feelings and right now they were so mixed that you didn’t know which way was up.

Somewhere in the mix of his wet mouth trailing across your chest to the other side, he had disposed of everything below your waist without having you notice.

Fucking demons, you thought to yourself.

His splayed hand was travelling downwards, and he was just on the crest of dipping his fingers under your hood when he stopped. He nuzzled his nose on your neck and breathed deeply.

“My sweet, little demon hunter. I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long.”

Your hips came off the bed, wanting him to touch you, but he kept his hand in place. He rose above you again, moving swiftly as he stepped off the bed.

“Up,” he demanded, motioning you to get off the bed.

He then took your place but this time he let his head hang from the bed.

“Ride by face, baby,” he said, hands reaching for your waist.

Whether he had planned this, or this was another one of his tricks, you were at perfect height.

“Wouldn’t it be easier if you were the other way?”

“I want you to stand.” He was forceful as he grabbed your hips and pulled them, easily slotting you over him.

You gasped loudly as his tongue made contact with your clit. He pulled you harder against him as he sucked loudly on your clit before releasing it and laving his tongue over it. His mouth felt divine against you as you caught yourself on your hand. Your hips seemed to move on their own volition as you started to rock against him. He moaned loudly in approval the same time you looked between the two of you. With every other rock you exposed his glistening chin and strong jaw and you felt yourself getting more turned on. You ground harder against him mouth, rotating as he switched from stiffening his tongue to licking you sloppily. He sucked, licked, and moaned against you until you were shaking above him. You were on your tip toes, him chasing your pussy so that his mouth never left. You could see the prominent bulge in his jeans and you felt your mouth salivate at the prospect. Closing your eyes, toes curling as much as they could, and fingers digging into the silk, you came on his face. His moans almost matched yours as you continued to ride out your orgasm and he was licking up all your had to offer.

When your body began to shake with aftershocks and you flinched every time his tongue hit your clit, he pushed you off him. You landed on your back against the silk. He swung his legs around, stepping off the bed again and quickly disposed of his jeans. Weakly, you sat up and you physically felt your eyes bulge.

There was that wicked grin again.

“All fours,” he said, rotating his finger, demanding you turn around.

You flipped over but not fast enough for his liking as he yanked you to the edge of the bed by your ankle.

“You need to move like you want it,” he seethed between his teeth.

Your knees were almost at the edge as you got on your hands, shins and feet hanging off the edge. He ran his left hand slowly, soothingly down the middle of your back, hand creeping in your hair and you were about to lean into the touch when he grabbed your hair by the roots harshly and pulled back. At the same time, you felt the slam of his cock inside of you, and to the hilt. There was more pain right now that there was pleasure as he pulled you back against him, still holding you by your hair.

“Shhhh,” he whispered as he brought his fingers to your sensitive clit. “It’ll feel good soon.”

He cooed as you melted a little, pleasure coming back into your system as he rubbed small circles on the swollen bundle of nerves. He pulled out until he was barely in, bit down on your neck, and slammed back. Then, he started to move slowly, circling his hips every now and again to hit you a little differently while still rubbing slow circles on your clit. The skin of your shoulder burned as he bit and sucked, his sharp teeth surely leaving scars. His grip in your hair tightened as his pace quickened.

He gasped loudly as he detached his lips from your skin, eyes closed, cheek against yours as he gripped you tightly, thrusting into you faster and with more purpose.

There were so many sensations inside of you, pain, pleasure, fear, euphoria. The mix was intoxicating, and you found yourself losing yourself to him again. You were pushed over the edge and you felt a growing wetness as he pushed harder against your clit, rubbing and thrusting faster.

“Fuck, hng, ______,” he muttered as you tightened around him.

He was sweating and the slap of his hips against your ass was wet and loud, his chest seemed to stick to your back, but god was it hot.

You were slipping further and further. You wanted to beg him not to touch you, but he wouldn’t even hear you now. His breathing was heavy, uneven, and loud in your ear. His fingers dug into your scalp, skin burning as he pulled harder at your hair. His fingers, relentless, were throwing you into another orgasm that had tears streaming down your face. You no longer had the strength to hold yourself up, cry, or speak. His breath caught in his throat suddenly as he stilled, toned body rigid behind you as he came. All at once, his breath came out in a loud exhale as he moaned, body shuddering, cock still inside of you and filling you up to the brim. His cum mixed with yours, leaking out and down around his cock as he thrust a few more times. The sticky liquid dripped down your thigh and to the bed below you. After a few moments, he stopped. His chest still heaved behind you, but his hand in your hair loosened while his other wrapped around your waist. He kissed tenderly the bruises and small punctures on your shoulder, and you shivered at the contact.

“My little, demon hunter,” he breathed. “The taste of you is so sweet.”

You awoke to your alarm. Confusion settled in and you weren’t sure where you were. Pulling the covers from your face you squinted as the sun assaulted your eyes. You moaned as you rolled over, suddenly regretting the action as every muscle in your body protested. Every part of you ached in a way you had never felt before. Your neck burned and there was a slight headache between your eyes.

Was that some illusion leftover from the exorcism?

Fear, disgust, and a little of something else you didn’t want to admit washed over you as you turned to silence your alarm. Your heart stopped in your chest as your hand grazed across something cold. He had left his signature. Once again, turning the brooch in your hand, you didn’t need to examine it further to know there would be the golden goat horns.

He had been real. A demon of Hell had taken you as his own.

[mascwhump]

Chapter 22 - Site Bravo

NSFW. EXPLICIT.

CW: dubcon touching, noncon drugging, forced pill taking, needles, minor blood, manhandling, creepy/intimate whumper, and just straight up smut tbh

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow

-

A few hours passed before Charlie heard the door unlock. He tore his eyes away from the ceiling and let them drift toward the door. Basil's small frame slipped in, carrying three plastic bags.

"Basil? I was almost positive that you were dead," Charlie said as he sat up.

"N-No, I was just reassigned here," he replied, setting the bags down on the desk.

"Where is here?" Charlie asked.

"I can't say, I'm sorry. I have to go," Basil replied, quickly exiting the room.

Charlie scratched his head as he moved to inspect the bags. Inside one was a meal, another had a few essential items, and the last one had a set of clothes. Charlie ate the meal ravenously before organizing the rest of the items. Not long after, the door opened, and none other than Mallory entered the room.

"Where's my team?" Charlie demanded.

"Hello to you, too. They're just fine. In fact, they're in the rooms on either side of you," Mallory said, straightening his sleeves.

"Where are we?

"America. This is my new compound, provided to me by your lovely government. We're calling it Site Bravo," Mallory answered.

Charlie twisted back to face the desk, placing his elbows on it to rest his head. Mallory approached him and placed his hand on the back of his head, causing him to flinch.

"Don't worry, love. Things are how they should be again. Although, I will admit, it was fun seeing what it's like in your position for once."

"How did they even know where to find us?"

Mallory tapped on his collar. Charlie sighed heavily into his hands. He hadn't even considered the fact that there might be a tracker inside of it.

"I'm moving the majority of my operation here. It's a much more advanced facility, and that means our research should increase tenfold."

"And I'm assuming you plan to test your stupid fucking research on us indefinitely."

Mallory sat down on the edge of the bed.

"We're expanding our testing. Right now, we have Q-179, T-77, also known as the truth serum, and C-282, the control serum. There's two new ones in the works right now, and the next one should be finished by next week. I have some good news for you, though. They no longer expect me to eliminate you. They're happy allowing me to keep you as healthy test subjects."

"Is that still all I am to you, a test subject? What you've done to me- to us, is beyond what could possibly be needed for your tests. You're obsessed with me. I'm absolutely more to you than a fucking test subject."

"Do you really care that much about what I think of you? It sounds like you're the one obsessed with me."

Charlie put his head down. He sighed deeply against the cedar desk. Mallory was next to him again, running his fingers through Charlie's messy hair.

"Come on," he said quietly, "I've got a welcome back present for you and your friends."

Charlie's blood ran cold. He moved robotically, as if someone else was in control of his actions. He followed Mallory down the narrow hallway and out a set of doors. They entered a large empty room with high ceilings, about the size of a basketball court.

"This will eventually be an indoor shooting range, but for now, we'll use it for this," Mallory said.

Soon after, the others were filed into the room, only restrained mentally by the rifles the soldiers held. They stood in a line against one wall. Charlie brushed his hand against Ethan's to acknowledge him. Another solider entered the room, holding a plate of cookies. The team exchanged confused glances as they were each passed a cookie.

"A welcome back gift," Mallory said. He took a cookie himself, and that lowered their suspicions.

"This is pretty good," Adrian said, mouth full.

"I only hire competent cooks," Mallory said. He noticed Crow wasn't eating the cookie.

"Don't worry, they aren't poisoned or anything. See?" He said, taking another bite of his own.

Crow finally ate his, and once everyone had finished, someone they hadn't seen before entered the room, rolling a cart with drawers. He wore a black bandana on the bottom half of his face. He nodded to Mallory before quickly exiting the room.

"So, now that I have you all here, I have to ask- how did you find Charlie and I?" He asked.

"The metadata from the video you sent," Adrian spoke. His eyes went wide, and he began looking around frantically.

"Ah, I see," Mallory sighed, "Didn't think about that."

"Adrian, what the fuck?" Crow hissed at him in a hushed tone.

"I didn't say that!" Adrian yelled.

Charlie froze once he realized what was happening.

"You put truth serum in the cookies," he said.

"No, just one of them," Mallory replied.

"You bastard," Crow spat.

"Shut it," Mallory hissed.

Crow opened his mouth to speak again, but the way the color drained from his face indicated that he couldn't. Charlie and Mallory realized it at the same time.

"Oh, excellent. You got the control serum biscuit," Mallory said.

"No," Adrian growled. Crow moved toward Mallory, but stopped in his tracks when ordered to.

Mallory clicked his tongue as he smirked. His eyes darkened, and Charlie clenched his jaw.

"First off, Crow, not a word unless directed. You and you, restrain Rex and Adrian," Mallory ordered to his soldiers.

"It's Deke," he spat. One of the men forced his arms behind his back and secured them with handcuffs before kicking his legs. Deke snarled as he dropped to his knees, his dog tags clinking together. Adrian put up a fight, managing to land a punch to one of them before another stepped in and got him on the ground and in cuffs.

Mallory opened one of the drawers on the cart and pulled out a bottle of pills will no label.

"Crow, make Charlie take this," he ordered. Crow walked over to him, and Mallory dropped one of the beige tablets in his hand.

"What is it?" Charlie questioned.

"Don't know. Can't be good if it was in this drawer," Mallory replied.

Crow approached him slowly. Charlie's back was already pressed against the wall.

"I'm not taking it," Charlie said, speaking to Mallory, but looking at Crow.

"Too bad. Do anything to get it down his throat, Crow," Mallory said.

Crow tapped on his jaw, and Charlie shook his head. He gritted his teeth. Crow eyes were filled with sorrow as he gripped Charlie's jaw in an attempt to force it open. He turned his head away and tried to move, but Crow pinned him with one hand on his chest.

"Stop this! This is insane!" Deke yelled. He was met with a blow to his shoulder with the butt of a rifle.

"Maybe he'll open his mouth if you pinch his nose," Mallory suggested.

Charlie struggled and squeezed his eyes shut right as Crow gripped his nose, cutting off his air. He could only hold his breath for thirty seconds before his mouth dropped open. He gasped for air as Crow shoved the pill to the back of his mouth, then covered it with his hand. Charlie had no choice but to swallow.

"Well done," Mallory spoke, "It was just a vitamin, by the way."

"You motherfucker!" Charlie yelled, pushing past Crow.

"Grab him," Mallory said quickly. Crow took Charlie's arms and held them behind his back.

Adrian began struggling against the soldiers' hold.

"Get him out of here," Mallory hissed. They picked Adrian up and dragged him out of the room as he began to yell numerous threats.

"Such a waste. Oh, well. I didn't really have anything for him to confess to, anyway."

Charlie was attempting to rip his arms out of Crow's grasp. Mallory watched in amusement.

"This is ridiculous," Ethan spoke.

"Oh, really? Come here," Mallory responded.

"Don't fucking touch him," Charlie spat.

Ethan approached him slowly, and Charlie could see that his hands were shaking. Mallory pulled him toward him and whispered something in his ear. Ethan pulled back, eyes wide. Suddenly, Mallory reeled back his fist and hit him square in the face, knocking him down instantly. Deke and Charlie began to yell as Ethan hit the ground, blood escaping from his nose.

"Take him to the infirmary. Fuck it, get Rex out of here, too. I don't need any more distractions," Mallory said.

Deke kicked and threw himself at the soldiers, but stopped when the barrel of a rifle was in his face. They shoved him out the door before dragging Ethan out after him. The three of them were alone.

"Soon, you'll all learn that you're not going to get away with those kinds of things," Mallory said.

"Fuck you. What the fuck did you say to him?!" Charlie yelled, his hands balling into fists.

"Nothing. I suggest you shut up before you're met with the same fate."

"Do it, you coward!"

"Hm, no. That'd be too generous."

Mallory set his phone on the cart, open to the app that controlled the collar. He didn't press anything, and Charlie knew it was a warning. He stopped struggling, and Crow loosened his grip. Crow moved away when Mallory motioned for him to. Mallory gripped his shirt to pull him down, then whispered something.

"What's with all the secrecy?" Charlie questioned.

Crow turned and approached him slowly. His face was turning pink, and Charlie backed away until he hit the wall again.

Crow stopped directly in front of him and looked him in the eyes. Charlie gasped when he felt him rest his hand between his legs.

"Wh... what are you doing?" He breathed. He gripped Crow's arm as he started rubbing his hand against him.

"St-Stop," Charlie stammered. His heart was racing, and he could feel that Crow's was, too, from the pulse in his wrist.

"God, Charlie. You're such a whore. You're not even trying to make him stop," Mallory teased. Charlie broke out of his daze and moved Crow's hand away. Mallory laughed.

"What, you don't like him touching you like that?"

"No... I-I mean, not while he's... not acting on his own free will," Charlie said.

"I've read the rest of his journal. Trust me, he wants to. Go on, Crow."

He moved his hand back, despite Charlie's hold on his wrist. Charlie slowly released his grip as he rubbed him and moved his hand slowly up his tatted arm. He hadn't realized that his eyes were closed until he felt Crow's other hand tangle in his hair. He could feel his blush as he began to get hard, and found himself pushing against Crow's hand.

Crow suddenly tensed, and Charlie opened his eyes to see Mallory had stuck a syringe in his neck.

"What the fu-"

"Shh. It's just a reversal," Mallory said.

After thirty seconds or so, Crow relaxed.

"Come on," Mallory said.

They followed him out of the room. Charlie felt the hairs on his neck and arms stand up. They ended up at his room. Mallory opened the door, motioned for them to go inside, and shut the door. They stood awkwardly as they listened to Mallory walk down the hallway.

"Um, hi," Crow finally spoke.

"Hi," Charlie laughed.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm fine."

"Okay."

"So-"

Charlie gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him down to him.

"Charlie?"

He reached for Crow's hand without breaking his gaze. He slowly moved it back between his legs as he bit his lip. Crow leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Charlie wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He kissed him again, this time with more force.

Crow picked up him, and Charlie wrapped his legs around his hips. They grinded into each other as their kisses became sloppier; their tongues becoming entangled. Charlie moaned softly as he ran his fingers through Crow's hair. Crow pulled away and started kissing along his jaw.

"Wish this fucking collar wasn't on," he growled.

Like magic, the collar popped open. Charlie pulled it from his neck and tossed it away.

"Room's fucking bugged," Crow said.

"I don't care," Charlie breathed.

Crow kissed his neck and bit it gently. Charlie leaned his head back against the wall as small moans escaped his lips.

Crow moved him over to the bed, and continued to kiss his neck as he lied him down.

"Fuck me," Charlie moaned.

Crow straightened up and slid his pants from his hips. He gripped the top of Charlie's shorts and pulled them off, along with his boxers, in one movement.

"There's... there's lube on the desk," Charlie said, "I don't know why, but it's there."

Crow swiped the bottle from the desktop and flipped open the top. Charlie watched in a daze as he let it drip down onto his cock. He put a bit on his fingers and rubbed them over his hole.

"Fuck," Charlie breathed.

Crow leaned over him and guided himself in with one hand. They moaned in unison as he entered, and Charlie pulled him down to kiss him again.

Crow rocked his hips slowly at first, steadily increasing in pace. Charlie gripped his own cock and stroked himself

"You're so fucking tight," Crow murmured in his ear.

"Ah... don't, hhh, fuck, don't stop," Charlie moaned.

He hated how close he was already. He wanted this to last forever. Crow left love bites along his neck as he traced his fingers beneath Charlie's shirt, eventually pulling it over his head.

"I’m close,” Crow breathed. He gripped onto his hips, allowing him to go deeper.

“Fuck!” Charlie cried out as he came, lines of cum landing on his abs. A few seconds more, and Crow pulled out, stroking himself until he finished on Charlie’s chest.

They were both breathing heavily. Charlie grinned ear to ear as he pulled Crow down to kiss him again.

“I should shower,” he murmured against his lips.

���Can I join?” Crow asked.

“Yes,” Charlie giggled.

Charlie stepped in first and rinsed off. They took turns lathering up with soap, and kissed in between.

“Are we telling anyone about this?” Charlie asked.

“Fuck no. We’ll never hear the end of it,” Crow said. Charlie laughed as he shut off the water and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He left the bathroom to retrieve their clothes, and jumped when he noticed Mallory sitting at the desk. He quickly picked up Crow’s clothes and threw them to him in the bathroom.

“Have fun?” Mallory asked.

Charlie ducked down behind the bed to slip on his clothes, only popping back up when dressed. Crow stepped out of the bathroom and folded his arms.

“Why are you here?” He questioned.

“To take you back to your room,” Mallory replied.

As they left, Crow looked over his shoulder and smiled at Charlie. Charlie returned it. He lied down on the bed, and let out a content sigh. Mallory was back a minute later, and picked up the collar from the floor.

“Sit up,” he ordered. Charlie sat up, and Mallory took note of the hickeys on his neck before snapping the collar back on. He looked annoyed, but Charlie didn’t care.

“I’m surprised you allowed us to do that,” he said as Mallory turned to leave.

“I have my reasons,” he said, walking out the door.

Charlie lied back down and stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, and for once, he was able to have a refreshing nap.

[alittleprincehwa]

ateez reaction ₊˚.ੈ♡˳ they spend a sunday morning with you

alexa play ₊˚.ੈ♡˳ sweet night by kim taehyung

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ kim hongjoong

⟶ the sound of birds chirping was what woke you up, your constant tries of sleeping back showed no success. You opened one eye and see a still hongjoong deep in his slumber. Your hand that was originally on the pillow was now ruffling his blueberry colored locks. You pushed the excess hair away from his features. Your hand continues trailing over his face.

His eye bags are caused by staying up too much. His lips that were slightly dry at the lack of hydration, again, caused by the number of hours he stayed up. He felt your familiar hand graze over him. He groans in response to it. But a soft and hum-like groan. Not long after you felt his hand hold yours. He brought yours near his lips and kissed it, “ Isn't it too early to be up, darling? “. You let out a small laugh. Before the lad woke up, you took a small look at the clock and see it was already past noon.

“ Love, it's already past noon. “ You giggle. He gives a look of disbelief and turns his head to the ticking clock. You heard a sigh of defeat as he turns back to you. You both broke down in giggles. The smile on his face widens, even more, when he saw your smile. He took out his phone that was resting on the bedside table and ordered some take out. You observed him. How his eyes narrow down to read the words, his nose scrunching up as if he doesn't know what to order. He takes a deep breath and puts his phone back. His usual smile appears again and pulls you to him.

Both of you just end up spending the entire day in bed.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ park seonghwa

⟶ he quietly chuckles seeing your sleeping figure silently snoring. The arm that was wrapped around you, pulled you closer into his bare chest. He hums into your bare nape, his hand crept under your shirt and rested on your bare stomach. He gently caressed the bare skin, waking you up. You tussle and turn, the sheets shifting. You stopped when your sleepy eyes caught a glimpse of seonghwa.

Like you, his eyes were still semi closed. Nose and cheeks slightly red at the temperature and the lack of clothing he had. But hey who were we to complain?

“ Morning, sunshine. “ He spoke in a deep satoori accent. “ Why don't we cook something, hm? “ He said, removing the sheets that were covering his lower body. You hum in approval. He helped you up and cloaks your shoulders with his arms. He peppers kisses on your hair as you walk towards the apartment kitchen.

You two spend a solid amount of time whipping up some pancakes. You try your best to balance the two plates that contained stacks of pancakes. “ I'll carry that, love. “ He places another kiss on your forehead and takes the heavy plates off your hands. Lastly, you grab the whipped cream and a pack of strawberries and waddle back to the bedroom where you two can munch on pancakes and feed each other strawberries.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ jeong yunho

⟶ your alarm loudly went off, filling the once silent room with an alarming noise. Pun intended. A figure behind you blocked the rays of sunshine from getting to you. One of his arms was wrapped across your figure. You tried freeing yourself from his grasp but it only tightens even more. Now the struggle of turning off the darn alarm became even more difficult.

You somehow managed to do it and turned off the annoying alarm. You look at the sleeping Bear before you. His aura alone gave off a cozy and warm vibe that made you want to snuggle even closer. Your sleepy head was too busy dreaming to even hear the ringing alarm that went off a second ago.

It required a lot of patience and perseverance to wake yunho up. You even reached the limits where you lay on top of him and continuously poked his cheek. After a solid minute, you felt his arms around your waist. He was still half asleep so the only thing he did was pull you closer and hug you even more. “ Baby, let's go back to sleep. “ He said before closing his eyes once more.

“ Fine I'm only saying yes since I love you. “ You pout before rolling back to your side of the bed and sleeping again with your cuddle bug.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ kang yeosang

⟶ yeosang was one to wake up a bit early. And when you say that you mean literally seven a.m. As usual you felt him tear away the sheets and went out for a cup of coffee, leaving you all alone. Not that it was that bad. You had your bed and sleep with you.

He usually brings along his skateboard and arrives back thirty minutes later. Always right on time when you started to wake up. You felt his foot steps and eventually the bed sinking a bit. Yeosang sat on the bed with a coffee in hand and a book with the other. “ Oh you're awake already? “ He raises a brow at you. You could only sheepishly smile and scoot closer to him.

He casually places a kiss on your head and proceeds to talk. “ On my way back, I picked up a few books I think you'd like. “ He smiles. He picks up the small stack of books and shows you. You were still a bit in a daze so he offered you coffee. His usual blend of Iced White Chocolate Mocha.

And so the day continues with nothing but books to talk about and endless sips of coffee.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ choi san

⟶ he's also one to wake up a bit early. But he dosent leave you, he just likes to roll around the bed and stare at you. Not in a creepy way of course. He admired every part of you.

And everytime you open your eyes he was there to tell you how beautiful or handsome you are. Embraces you with the most comfortable hug ever. He loves to sing to you whenever you two sleep or wake up. He knows you love his voice. He sings you your favorite songs, occassionally dancing with you.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ song mingi

⟶ You and your cuddle bunny were simply lying around and doing nothing. Well maybe doing something. Cuddling.

His large figure towered over you. Arms around you as you just simply talk about the week that quickly flew by. He felt the need to braid your hair so he put the lessons you taught to use. You continued your rant while he braids your hair with the most adorable face.

By the time you were done, your hair was already braided in all sorts of ways and directions. Although it wasn't the best, you still didn't take it off but instead awarded him with kisses. “ When have you got so good at braiding, baby? “

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ jung wooyoung

⟶ he's too much of a cuddle bunny to even get up alone. His nose scrunches up and his eyes screw tighter as he notices the sun peaking through the window sills. He now widely grins upon seeing you all curled up right next to him. Won't hurt to take a few photos right?

He cheekily giggles at between switching angles. All the clicking that could be heard made you wake up. You felt an arm above you so first instinct was to push it away. And you did just so. “ Wooyoung let me sleep please... “ You groan out. You turn to the other side, slightly pissed.

He later apologizes to you by cooking you some scrambled eggs. Which was a mess that even pissed you more but all the kisses he gave made up for it.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ choi jongho

⟶ you didn't expect to wake up with an extremely strong pair of arms wrap around you as if it's the last thing it does. You were kind of suffocating at this point. You hurriedly wake the sleeping boy up. He was slightly confused but immediately released you when he saw you struggling.

“ I'm so sorry babe !! I swear it just happens ! “ He pouts, upset that he almost murdered you. You regain the oxygen you lost and reassured the sorry boy. “ Baby, I swear it's fine ! “ You say. He continued nonetheless. Saying sorry every minute while giving you endless love.

If this what happens if he accidentally hurts you, you decide to go with the flow instead and get showered with love.

a / n : I literally wrote this while listening to love talk what-

[raistorm]

“Love’s Seeping From the Guns”

——————————————————————

All Yang could hear was ringing, a deafening ringing in her ears.

The world blurred in and out, spinning and spinning, and she grasped at the singed earth, trying to make the horizon level once more.

She could barely make out the writhing forms of Juane, Ren, and Oscar beside her, similarly afflicted by the aftermath of the explosion. Winter and the Ace Ops indeed dropped the payload just as they managed to rescue Oscar. They were approaching the opening of the whale’s mouth when it hit, and Oscar’s (rather, Ozpin’s) semblance activated, causing time to slow down.

They’d managed to run far enough from the beast to save their lives before Oscar’s aura depleted completely. But they were still caught in a devastating blast.

Yang, on her hands and knees, only registered warm liquid pouring down the side of her face when she saw the blood pooled on the ground in front of her. She fell to her elbows. If the ground would just stop moving she could get up. Get up, the voice inside her yelled. Back and white forms roiled around her as the Grimm and Atlesian army battled on, forcing her to retain a sense of urgency, to stay conscious.

She pushed up from an elbow, willing her muscles to cooperate, but they felt like jelly. Exhaustion settled over her body, tempting her eyes closed, to rest, to let go. It would be easy. To just sleep. She was equal parts weightless and heavy.

But sounds began to come back.

Growling, snarling, guns blasting, shouting, scuffling.

A voice, familiar, started far off but came closer and closer as she kept trying to push her body up, using arms that just wouldn’t listen to her.

“Yang!”

It was Blake.

A solid pair of arms wrapped around her. The metallic click of weapons unfurling, the sickening crunch of bones, and more familiar voices told her Ruby and Weiss had begun to fend off the Grimm around them.

Relief overcame her and she sunk into the embrace. Blake was crying, begging her to stay awake, to “stay with me, Yang, stay with me… open your eyes, we have to get out of here!”

Yang drifted deeper into trance, partly comforted by Blake’s presence and partly helpless to the sweet temptation of unconsciousness by now. She’d been fighting for so long…

Blake shook her shoulders and said loudly and firmly, “Yang. Wake up.”

Light seared through her half-lidded eyes as Blake’s golden, tear-filled gaze blinked into view. Is time still moving in slow motion? She thought. I really wish Blake would stop crying.

From the corner of her dimming periphery, she could see her own metal hand reaching up to cup Blake’s cheek before she could even remember commanding it to do so, so she allowed her fingers to brush Blake’s tears away.

She wanted to say she was trying; she wanted to tell her that it was all going to be okay, that…

Lips pressed against her own.

Blake was kissing her.

Yang’s eyes flew open as a new rush of adrenaline roared through her veins. She pulled in a sharp breath, energy surging through her like lightning. Suddenly, she had command of her body again, and she grasped Blake’s face like a lifeline, returning the searing kiss.

Blake pulled away to release a ragged sobbing breath. “You idiot,” she said, before surging forward to recapture Yang’s lips.

Yang half-laughed, half-sobbed, and pulled Blake in by her shoulders, wrapping her arms all the way around her torso. Fire ignited under her skin as they shuddered between kisses, the sobs gently subsiding as they both rediscovered solid ground in each other.

Still dizzy and reeling from almost passing out and being suddenly reinvigorated, Yang pulled away to refocus on the golden eyes of her partner. Blake’s watery smile became her anchor to reality.

“You scared the hell out of me, Yang,” she said, voice cracking, a bit of Yang’s blood smudged on the corner of her lip. Yang wiped it away with the pad of her thumb.

“Baby…”

Weiss’s voice cut through their little world, “As happy as we all are for you two, we have to go! I don’t care if we have to carry you, but we can’t keep holding off the Grimm!”

Blake whispered soft assurances in Yang’s ear as she helped the blonde stand up on wobbling legs. The gravity of their situation finally registered to Yang as the hordes of Grimm seemed to converge slowly around them. Behind her, Ruby and May struggled to support a deeply wounded Ren and an unconscious Oscar. Juane was standing, but was ghostly pale, blood and bruises covering his face.

How were they going to get off the battlefield? Half of them could barely walk, much less run. How was time still moving so slow, but so fast?

As if on cue, an airship whirred to a stop in front of them. The doors opened to reveal Qrow and Robyn, their disheveled and ragged forms echoed the appearances of the younger huntsman and huntresses. None of them got out unscathed these past forty-eight hours.

“Kids, come on. There’s nothing else we can do here,” Qrow rasped, wind whipping his matted hair. His eyes were more gaunt than usual.

“We have to go back to Weiss’s place to get everyone else,” Ruby said as she and May gingerly lifted Oscar onto the platform.

“Roger,” said Qrow, hopping down to lift Ren onto the ship.

With great effort and the help of Blake’s steady hands, Yang hoisted herself up and collapsed near the back wall, breathing heavily, blood still pouring from the gash on her forehead. She began to wonder if her disorientation was a side effect of Oscar’s time dilation. Events were moving quickly in retrospection but so slowly in the moment.

Suddenly Blake was by her side, fussing over the wound and searching for more. Yang watched her worry her lip as her hands passed over every inch of Yang’s form, gently, but frantic. Yang grabbed her hands and Blake’s eyes shot up to meet hers.

“I’ll be okay. I’m mostly tired and… rattled.”

“That’s a lot of blood, Yang,” she said, insistent.

Years of a rough and tumble lifestyle taught Yang that shallow gashes on the head were often more bark than bite, and bled a lot even if they weren’t life threatening. She relayed this to her partner, who nodded, though with a small look of disbelief on her face, and shifted to dress her head wound rather than keep looking for other wounds.

Soft murmurs around her indicated that the others were being looked after as well, and Yang began to slowly let herself relax, to feel safe for a moment, to be okay with the idea that while her friends may be hurt, they were alive, protected. When Blake was handed the first aid kit, Yang watched her expression tense in concentration as she wiped the blood from her face. Yang couldn’t help it, she gazed adoringly at her partner.

“I can feel you staring,” Blake said, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a smirk as she began the process of wrapping gauze around her forehead.

“I dunno, it feels like this is allowed now,” Yang rasped, the exhaustion in her voice even startling herself.

Blake’s eyes softened as she reached up to touch Yang’s jaw. The warmth of Blakes touch anchored Yang to something stable in a sea of disorientation and shock.

“It is,” she smiled mischievously, “but I seem to recall you staring at me like that a few times before… just… usually when you thought I wasn’t paying attention.”

Despite herself, Yang blushed, but was too tired to keep up the banter. “…Guilty.”

Concern flooded Blake’s expression again, but before she could speak, the airship landed.

“Stay here, I’m going to help carry the others back to the ship,” Blake said, and hesitated before leaning in and kissing her softly. It was just a quick brush of lips, but it was unexpected and sent Yang’s heart aflutter. Admiration and love filled Yang as she watched Blake hop off the ship. She couldn’t believe this was happening, briefly wondering if this was all a dream. Everything felt surreal. She looked at her hands and flexed her fingers, finding herself dying to touch Blake again already.

A forced cough made her look up to the raised eyebrow of her uncle and the shocked expression of Juane. Yang huffed in embarrassment and looked away, but didn’t have the energy to retort.

“Oh,” Juane said, mostly to himself, “that’s what she meant back at the cabin…”

Qrow chuckled and turned to look out at the night sky. “Good for you, kiddo.”

Yang let her head fall back against the cool metal wall of the ship before lolling it back over to Qrow. “Ha… yeah it’s… it just…” she began before a different thought crossed her mind. “Wait, where are we going? What happened… with everything?” It was still hard to form full sentences.

Qrow sighed and ran a hand through his hair before glancing at Robyn, who was sitting in the pilot’s seat.

“The whale isn’t dead, but Ironwood almost killed you anyway,” he said, malice seeping from his voice like icicles. “It’s just… out of commission for a while. Salem will have it nipping at the heels of every major city in Remnant before the week’s up.”

Robyn turned around. “We’re going to find a place to lay low for a few days to recover. Half of you kids are in bad shape.”

Yang sighed but couldn’t argue, “Ruby won’t be happy about that.”

“Yeah, but there isn’t much of a choice at the moment,” Qrow said, coming over to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Speaking of, you get some rest, Yang. You’ve done more than enough. I’m… I’m so proud of you. And I’m glad you’re okay. We all.. feared the worst for a moment.”

Tears welled up in Yang’s eyes before she said thank you, and allowed herself to shift into a somewhat comfortable position as Qrow went to open the door of the ship. Sounds began to drift back out of her consciousness, but she could hear the soft rustling of clothes as the others were lifted onto the ship, hushed whispers only lulled her closer to the edge of sleep.

She barely registered Blake’s warm body settle in next to hers as the engine of the airship whirred back to life, but she forced her eyes open once more.

“Yang…” Blake said, “It’s okay, you can go to slee—”

“—I love you,” Yang said, unable to hold it inside any longer. “Blake, I love you.”

Blake couldn’t hide a small gasp. There was a beat of silence.

Then Yang felt cool hands gingerly turn her face to meet warm golden eyes. Yang didn’t realize she was crying until Blake was wiping her tears way.

“I could’ve died today,” Yang whimpered, the reality hitting her like bricks. It made her blood run cold. “I would’ve never told you. I need to tell you now. I have to—“

Blake cut her off with a kiss, pulling her in deeply. When she pulled away she whispered, “Yang, I love you, too.” Blake kissed her again and Yang could only focus on her lips. “I love you.”

Tears streamed down both of their faces as they savored being alive and together and in love. There was so much more to say, so much more to talk about, but the preciousness of the moment transcended everything else. The truth was more glaring than ever, that tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed, they only had now. They had each other right now.

They fell asleep in each others’ arms, preparing to face an uncertain tomorrow.

Together.

[imagination-of-a-thirsty-weeb]

Keep It Down || Kuroo x Reader

Credit

Prompt: Kuroo with a poc, thick, bratty sub S/O

Pairing: Kuroo x Reader

Word Count: 2.647k

Warning: a lil fluff (if you squint), public sex, 

“Y/N!”

The whisper-shout is meant to be a warning, your hand stilling as it moves over his thigh. Your eyes flicker toward his, brow kinking, challenging him as you cupped him through his uniform sweats. Kuroo struggles to push down his moan, the noise dying on his lips as he takes the chapped skin under his teeth. He lets you continue your ministrations, moving your hand against him, trying to get him as riled up as you were. “Kuroo?” You tilt your head, batting your lashes, you looked so fuckable in that moment. Honey coated eyes staring back at him, starry under the light of the moon that peaked through the clouds. They were wide, drinking in his every reaction, growing darker the more he let his resolve slip. Yet they were still somehow innocent, nearly begging him to take over. “I need you, please,”

It’s not as if you had spent the last hour and a half trying to get Kuroo to stuff you full of his cock on a bus full of his teammates. Body buzzing with excitement each time he would feed into your games instead of shutting you down with a chaste kiss and a promise of making it up to you later. “Is that so kitten?” The words come out a little too shaky for Kuroo’s liking, his nostrils flaring as he tries to regulate his breathing. “Tell me kitten, what do you want me to do?” His fingers clasp around your wrist that worked against him, pushing it to your side before his fingers were between your thighs. His fingers pop the button of your shorts with ease before slipping beneath the fabric, twitching to feel your arousal for him.

“Fuck me!” It seems like the most obvious thing, even as Kuroo’s pushing his hand down your shorts. You gasp when you feel his cold feels against your warm slit, the contrast in temperature causing goosebumps to rise across your skin. You want to continue to beg him to fuck you but the feeling of two of his fingers swiping down your slit, bumping into your clit a few times, just to keep you on edge, has you shutting your mouth. “Please!” You whine, grinding your hips against his palm, just in time for Kuroo to slide two of his fingers into your wet entrance. He meets your thrust with more force than necessary, a loud, wet pop sounding throughout the bus.

“Fuck,” Kuroo stops, his fingers still between your thighs, still buried up to the second knuckle inside your fluttering walls. He looks over his seat, checking to see if anyone noticed. He’s thankful to turn and find all his teammates busting themselves one way or another, most having in headphones while a couple others met online to play a few games. “We gotta be quiet, kitten,” Kuroo buries his face in your neck, placing a few wet kisses along the skin of your collarbone before clamping down. He sucks the skin into his mouth as he pushes his fingers deeper into you, chuckling a little at the way your hips lift in a pathetic attempt to meet his thrusts.

“Kuroo-“ you whine, hips unrhythmic as they lift off the seat to bury Kuroo’s fingers deep inside you. Kuroo stops his movements, letting you fuck yourself against his fingers as his other hand tugs down your shirt, a silent prayer going through his mind as he’s met with bare skin.

“Hmm, you’re so hot baby,” Kuroo pulls his hand from your shorts and goes to lift you up, wanting you on his lap. You shake your head and ground yourself in your seat, putting down all your weight so he was unable to lift you. “What the hell’s wrong now?” Kuroo’s hands move to the underside of your thighs, giving another glance around the bus before he’s tugging you into his lap. It takes a second before you’re situated, facing him as you lift yourself from his lap. “What the fuck are you doing?” Kuroo whisper-shouts, grabbing your hips to plant you firmly in his lap. Your eyes widen at his rough actions, a small moan slipping past your lips when you feel his bulge against your clothed core. “You’re not still on that I’m too big shit are ya?” Kuroo asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, dipping his head down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucks on the bud, eyes snapping open to look you in yours as he sucks what he could fit of your titty into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Your hands run through his messy raven locks, pulling at the soft tuffs as he switched tits. His eyes stay on yours the whole time. He was waiting for an answer, you decide. “Y-yeah-“ you’re almost embarrassed to admit it, wanting to curl into a ball the way your boyfriend pulls away to look at you. The expression across his face is unreadable, you can’t tell if he’s still turned on, pissed, or upset. His brows furrow as he thinks of what to say next, his hands doing the talking as they move to take two handfuls of your ass in their grasp. He continues to stare at you for a second more before a growl rips from his throat, rumbling through his chest.

“I don’t know what little boys you had in America baby, but trust me, I can handle you.” Kuroo’s nails dig into the fabric of your shorts, pulling you closer, simultaneously grinding your core against his bulge. Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip to stop the moan that bubbles in the back of your throat. “Don’t you think so?” Kuroo’s fingers are working against your shorts, tugging them down until he could shove them between him and the seat. “No panties either?” Kuroo clicks his tongue, playfully shaking his head as he continues to scold you. “Kitten, did you come on this bus expecting me to fuck you.”

Yes. Is what you want to say, you knew he’d give in, he always gave in. “N-no,” your answer receives a sharp slap to your left ass cheek, the sound echoing throughout the bus. You and Kuroo share a look, only the bus driver looking back to find the source of the noise. With the lights out he could barely make out the silhouette of you sitting on Kuroo’s lap, luckily enough for the two of you, it just looked like Kuroo. “I’m not lying,” you plead, receiving another slap, this time a little gentler to stop the spreading of the reverb. Kuroo’s lips tug into a small smirk, his brow linking as he waited for you to tell him the truth. “Okay, fine!” You pout, crossing your arms as you try to stand your ground as much as possible. “I didn’t wear any panties because I knew you’d fuck me on the bus!”

Kuroo chuckles at this, wrapping his arms around your body as you continue to spew your lewd thoughts. A few of them had Kuroo stirring in his pants, cock eager to act out the scenarios that slipped past your lips. “Such a good kitten,” Kuroo’s fingers trace your spine, the soft touch a harsh comparison to the way your hips move against his, pleading for him to finally fuck you. “Telling me all your dirty little fantasies,” One of Kuroo’s hands move to free himself from his sweats, pulling them down just enough. His cock springs up between the two of you, the bead of arousal at his tip shiny under the moonlight. Your mouth waters, wishing you could bend over and take him down your throat then and there. Some things truly did have to wait until you were off the bus. “I know, kitten,” Kuroo lifts you up, hovering you over his cock. “I want you to suck it too,” he sounds like a child who’s had his toy snatched away, rubbing the thick head of his cock along your slit. “But that’ll just have to wait,” with that he pulls you down into his lap, bottoming out with the solid motion.

“Shit Kur-“ your words die on lips as Kuroo slaps a hand over your mouth, hips working up into yours. Your eyes widen, a little upset he had to shut you up. Nonetheless, the pleasure of his thick cock rubbing deliciously against your sensitive walls has you reeling.

“I really need you to be quiet kitten,” Kuroo moves his hand from you mouth and placed a finger over his lips, a final sign to tell you to keep it down before he takes your hips in his hands. “Can you do that kitten? Can you stay quiet for me?” Kuroo doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s lifting his hips to push into you once again. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, fingers hastily gripping at his shoulders. “You’re so tight kitten,” Kuroo grunts, kissing at the skin of your chest. Your irregular breathing, and the rise and fall of your chest is enough to bring Kuroo back from the edge. His cock twitching against your walls, aching for release. “You know you really piss me off with all that negative talk,” Kuroo reiterates each of his words with a soft thrust, lips moving across the skin of your chest, pressing a few stray kisses to your collarbones before he plants a big, wet kiss on your lips. “Maybe it’s just me but ever since I first saw you I knew I had to make you mine,” Kuroo’s thrust are picking up in pace once again, his hands gripping your hips tighter, using the grip to pull you down against him.

“Yeah?” You giggle, pushing your forehead against his. You give him a couple of kisses for his words, your heart swelling at his confession. “You wanted me that bad?” Kuroo’s ready to answer with a hell yeah before another voice interrupts the two of you. Kuroo’s hips stop much to his dismay, both of you looking over at the culprit. You find Lev, half asleep, leaning out of his seat as he’s whispering something to the two of you. “Kuroo what do we do?” You’re frozen in fear, eyes focused on the still babbling boy. Lev stops talking after a few seconds and leans back in his sleep, body going slump as he allows a peaceful sleep to take over him once against.

“Were you scared kitten?” Kuroo sounds stressed, and your eyes flicker back to him to find him with his brows furrowed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he tries to stay focused. “Oh really?” Is his response when you meekly nod, bottom lip quivering a little as the nerves of almost being caught wash over you. “Then why are you squeezing me so tight?” You hadn’t noticed until he said something, hiding your face in his neck at his accusation. “Don’t be shy now kitten,” It’s easier to move this way, his hips picking up speed once again. “Especially not when you’re gushing around my cock like that,” you can hear it, every squelch as he pushes into you, every pop as he pulls out. He was making a mess between your thighs and the both of you knew it. “You wanna come kitten?” He suckles on the tip of his thumb before pushing it against your bundle of nerves, rubbing tight circles against the aching bud. “You gotta tell me how beautiful you are,” your face drops just in time, Kuroo’s finger stopping over your clit as you hesitate. “It’s simple really baby, tell me all the things that make you, you,”

You have half the mind to slap him, frustrated by his antics. There you sat, on a bus full of people, filled to the brim with his cock and he wants to draw it out? You didn’t mind when he got like this, all mushy, all lovey dovey, especially when you were the subject but you were beyond turned on and his ministrations weren’t helping. “Kuroo you know I love you, I love especially when you try to make me feel better but I need to come!” You whine, rolling your hips against his, letting out a small giggle when he grunts, stilling your hips once again.

“Then you know what you have to do.” Kuroo drops his thumb to your clit again, settling for sloppy movements as you ground yourself against him. “Tell me baby, tell me everything that makes you beautiful,” your eyes are shaking, tears filling the brims. How could he be so damn cute and hot at the same time? You can barely even focus on your response when you can feel his cock pulsating against your walls, the stopping of his thrusts allowing you to feel it all.

“I’m beautiful because of the skin I’m in.” You start off, just as Kuroo would do and his thumb presses harder against your clit, egging you on. “It’s dark, kissed by the sun itself,” those words always make you giggle, especially when Kuroo places a kiss to your nose after saying them each time. This time is no different, his lips pouted even as they kiss your nose, even as they move to your lips. “I have plump lips,” you give him a couple of kisses before leaning forward, whispering the next few words directly into his ear. “They’re oh so very nice when I’m sucking you off aren’t they?” Kuroo growls, hips slamming up against your ass. You were pushing him and you knew it.

“Kitten,” it’s meant to serve as a warning, for you to continue but the look you give him as you’re teetering on the edge is enough for him to give you what you want. Kuroo watches in awe as you throw your head back against the seat, eyes screwed shut as the pleasure rushed through your veins. Your neck looks so delectable right now, his lips twitching to attach to the skin. Your shirt is still pulled down so it’s bunched up below your tits, causing them to sit up, all nice and perky. Kuroo’s mouth waters, he wants to take them into his mouth again, suck on them until you were begging him to stop but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your face. Especially when you softly called out his name as he pushed you through your orgasm. “Hmm, you did so good kitten,” You fall into his chest, face hiding in his neck as he repeats his praises. You can feel his planting cool kisses against your heated skin, talking you through the aftermaths of your orgasm.

“Fill me up Kuroo,” The words are weak, barely above a whisper, coming out in a broken forum. Your body is spent, uneven breaths hitting Kuroo’s neck. “Please,” that’s it, that’s all he needed, his cock twitching as he does as you ask. You hum in content, whispering softly as he fills you with his seed. It’s so much, spilling out your gaping hole as Kuroo pulls you off of him. He’s quick to give you your shorts, instructing you to put them on before Lev decides he wants to actually wake up this time. “Thank you,” you smile, snuggling into his side after the two of you are dressed and presentable.

“Of course kitten,” Kuroo dips his head to catch your lips in a quick kiss, pulling away as quickly as he was there. “If I ever hear you talking all that shit about yourself again, I guess I’ll just have to show you how beautiful you really are,” you go to respond to his words, a wide smile breaking across your features as you realize he truly did find you beautiful.

“Kuroo-“

“I don’t understand how the two of you can’t go two hours without fucking!”

“Oops!”

[kyber-kisses]

Southern Nights

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: cursing, angst, sad!boi dean hours, very slight canon divergence.

Summary: When the British men of letters start killing American hunters, Dean panics for the readers safety.

A/n: had this idea tumbling around in my head for awhile and finally decided to write it. Hope y’all enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated! (I also based this off of Flower Power by Greta Van Fleet so go and give it a listen!)

Things had not being going smoothly to say the least. Not smoothly at all.

Taking a deep breath Dean rested his body weight against the drivers side door of Baby, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he waited for Sam to finish up his phone calls. Thirty minutes ago they had walked out of the morgue from seeing Eileen's body and now apparently their mother was missing.

“Are you done yet?” Dean sighed, holding up his wrist to check his watch impatiently. The only answer he got from Sam was a finger being held up, telling him to give him another minute.

Another groan and Dean was letting his head fall back against the roof of the car. A minute later he heard Sam saying his goodbyes followed by a click and he was lifting his head up again.

“Well?”

“So, yeah- I’ve finished calling around about all the hunters who’ve died in the past few weeks. And um-“

“And um what?”

“They’ve all had years of experience. If this really is the British men of letters, I think their trying to wipe out American hunters.” Sam explained, watching Deans face for a reaction. The older Winchester pinched the bridge of his nose,eyes squeezed shut, no doubt frustrated with the whole situation.

“Oh well that’s just fan-freakin-tastic.”

Another few seconds past and then Deans eyes snapped back open, Jade irises now wide as he pushed himself away from the car.

“Shit, Y/N.”

Immediately understanding where Deans mind was going, Sam was already rounding the side of the vehicle to get to the passenger door. “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“I don’t know, four weeks ago- maybe five?” Dean spoke quickly, yanking open his own door and quickly sliding in, keys already in the ignition. “Try calling her. We need to make sure she’s alright.”

Tapping furiously at his screen, Sam nodded as he pressed the device to his ear. “Already on it.”

Dean was back on the road and driving before he even had a destination, his eyes darting between the asphalt and Sam as he waited for an answer.

“Anything?”

Shaking his head, Sam pulled the phone a away from his ear, flinching when Dean let out a string of curses. “Damn it, here-“ taking a hand off the wheel he fished his own phone out, tossing it across the seat towards his brother. “Try mine.”

The hunter waited in agonizing silence for another minute or so before Sam shook his head once more. “Nothing again.”

It took everything in Dean not to hit his head against the steering wheel in frustration in that moment. He needed to know that you were safe. That you were still alive and well. “Fuck- okay. Um, try calling Jody. She might know where she is.”

You and Dean were complicated to say the least. The two of you had crossed paths and become friends a lifetime ago and nothing had ever been the same since. It was easy to see by anyone that You and Dean had feelings for each other, but even after years of friendship neither of you had ever truly acted on it. Sure there were the knowing glances and smiles, and the occasional instance where the two of you found your fingers tangled together, but that was it. No more. No less. Probably because internally you both knew that this life wasn’t made for romance.

But that didn’t stop Dean from loving you. Not at all.

Dean focused his eyes back on the paint strips in the center of the road, trying to ease himself. It wasn't unusual for you to go radio silent for weeks on end. You had a busy schedule, never quite standing still enough to catch a breath before rushing off on another case, but with everything happening, Dean was worried.

Dean considered you to be a wild, energetic type. You were the type that loved diving head first into anything you found interesting. Sometimes you decided to learn a new language just for the hell of it or pick up a random hobby like archery. There was something about moving that you had always loved. You were drawn towards instability the way magma's drawn through cracks in the earth. Even when you were younger, you had had a quality that sucked people in, made people flock to you as if you were some emissary from the land of glamour. (Dean knew that truth though, you like most hunters came from a shrinky dink town in the middle of nowhere USA. . . The farthest thing from glamour.) Dean remembered when they had first found the bunker and offered you to stay with them. You had hissed a little through your teeth, before politely declining. Sure, you stopped in every once in awhile and stayed a week or two but never longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean watched as Sam talked softly to Jody on the phone, his brother letting out light hums and nods as he jotted some stuff down on the back of an old fast food napkin. A moment later he was thanking the sheriff and hanging up.

“She got anything?”

“Kind of. She says she hasn’t heard from her in a few weeks either, but last time she checked Y/N was hunkered down in some place outside of Fairhope, Alabama. She had been working a rugaru case but that was the last she heard of her.” Sam explained with a light shrug.

“Okay, alright.” Dean nodded, glancing back over at his brother. “What do you have written down?”

“An address. Jody said if we go looking for her to start here. She thinks this is where she was staying.”

Leaning slightly over, he read the messy scribbles on the napkin before nodding and looking at the clock. “Alright, if I gun I think I can get us there by evening tomorrow.”

His brother gave him a solid nod before plugging the coordinates into his phones GPS, and giving him the first set of directions. The only thoughts running the older Winchesters head being please be alive. You need to be alive. Because if the British men of letters found you and did something to you, he would never forgive himself.

*. *. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean managed to hit it spot on because a day and a half later he and Sam were quickly lurching to a stop at the end of an old dirt driveway as dusk began to settle. The sky turning to a deep shade of blue as the sun went down, taking the dusty pinks and oranges of the sunset with it. The first fireflies could be seen through the trees, and Just beyond the house, the grass sloped down to the calm waters of the Mobile bay.

The tires crunched loudly against the gravel before Dean slammed the breaks and threw the impala into park, practically vaulting out of the vehicle at the sight of your car.

“Y/N!”

For the past several hours fear had begun its agonizing and chilling climb up Deans spine and now that he was finally at the end of the GPS route he was terrified of what he might find.

No answer.

Dean was frantic as he and Sam bolted up the steps of the massive front porch, throwing open the old screen door probably with enough force that it should have been pulled from its hinges. “Y/N, Dammit!”

luckily the open layout of the house was easy to navigate and Dean quickly found no signs of forced entry or a struggle. All your stuff was still here though, he recognized your backpack and laptop along with one of your canvas jackets.

That’s when he saw the flicker of firelight just beyond the window, music seeping through a partially open one. Quickly pushing past Sam he kicked open the back door and rushed out.

unfortunately the sound scared the hell out of you and you were falling out of your hammock, hand flying to your chest as if to stave off a heart attack.

“What the fuck?!’

“Y/N!” Instant relief rushed over Dean at the sight of you unscathed before him, sitting startled in the grass, the firelight from the pit giving you a sort of glow. . . but that feeling was quickly ripped away and replaced by anger as he clenched his jaw and walked closer. “What the hell Y/N?! You ever heard of picking up a damn phone?!”

On top of being startled to death you now had to add confusion, your eyebrows raising as you pushed yourself off the ground and crossed your arms, watching as the elder brother stormed across the grass, Sam slowly following behind.

“Excuse me?”

“Both Sam and I have been trying to call you! The least you could do is call us back if you don’t pick up originally!”

Holding a hand up in defense you stared down the jade eyed hunter. As surprised as you were to see him, you were beyond confused at his rage. “Woah, calm the fuck down. What the hell crawled up your ass?”

“Do you have any idea what’s been going on these past few days?!”

You gave him one of your famous are you kidding me looks before moving down a step. “I’m sitting in a hammock and drinking, Dean. Does it look like I fuckin know?”

“I was afraid you were dead!”

“Well clearly-“ you gestured time yourself. “I am not, now you mind calming down and telling me what’s going on and how the hell you found me?”

Deans jaw clenched before he sharply inhaled through his nose, whipping around to look at his brother as if saying “can you believe this woman?” As much as he loved you, you could be infuriating at times.

“Only if you tell me why the hell your playing house in some small ass southern town!”

“Fine, fine.”you nodded, raising your hands in defeat. A moment passed before Dean let his shoulders fall and walked closer, only to sink down onto one of the wooden seats of the picinic table, Sam close behind. Leaning against the trunk of the tree besides you, you let an uncomfortable silence fall between you and Dean as he looked around at the surroundings, Sam unfortunately caught in the middle of it.

“Sorry, Y/N. I have no idea why he’s in such a mood.” Sam tried.

“It’s fine, Sam. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with an angry Dean before.” You gave him a small smile before reaching for your glass of peach whiskey.

“Really, Alabama? Alabama?” Looking back towards you, Dean gave you weird look as if judging your taste.

“What? I like the humidity. Plus, this place is quiet.” You shrugged. “Now please fill me in on why you felt the need to track me down and check in on me, because dudes, you’ve never once done that before.”

The two shared a look before Sam let out a sigh, crossing his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s the British men of letters.”

“Oh fantastic, what do those tea sipping idiots want now?”

“It’s not what they want, it’s what they’re doing.”

Another wave of silence.

“Okayyy. You care to elaborate?”

“They’re killing off American hunters. Hunters with years of experience under their belt. They’ve already killed Eileen, and we think they might have mom.” Dean explained.

“Shit.” You paused, finding the proper words hard to find. “I’m sorry.” You shook your head, suddenly feeling extremely guilty for not keeping in touch. “And you thought-“

“They were gonna come for you next. Yeah.”

“I should have called you guys when my phone broke a few weeks ago just to inform you that you wouldn't be able to reach me that way anymore. I’m really sorry.”

Dean looked like he was on the verge of another fit but luckily Sam caught it and stepped in before anything could escalate. “It’s fine Y/N. What matters is that your safe.”

“I know, I know. I just- I feel bad. You guys are welcome to spend the night here instead of in some cheap motel room, and tomorrow If you want I can help you guys figure this shit out. Get coordinated. It’s the least I can do to make up for being a shitty friend and making you guys worry.”

“If you have enough room we’ll gladly take you up in that offer.” Sam smiled, rising from the bench before pulling you into a hug. “How’d you even come by this place?”

“One of my families old hunting safe houses.” You shrugged, pulling away. “And don’t worry about room. There’s a bedroom and a pullout sofa in the sun room to the back of the house. Perfect amount of space for two grown ass men.”

“Oh no, we’re not taking up your space like that. I can sleep on the floor.” Dean shook his head as he now stood in front of you, the anger and annoyance seemingly gone. (Dean never could stay angry at you for long.)

“Dee, it’s fine. Really. I usually fall asleep in the hammock anyways. I find it more relaxing than any memory foam mattress.”

“Seriously?”

“yeah, seriously.” You shrugged with a light grin. Dean let out a soft chuckle before the two of you fell into silence once more. This time finding it to be acomfort. You both watched as Sam walked back around the side of the house, no doubt heading back to the car for their bags.

“I’m sorry for getting angry earlier. I was jsut super worried-“

“I know, I get it. It’s not the first time you’ve done that.”

You observed as Dean looked down at his hands, the hunter clearly ashamed of his earlier actions. Somewhere in the grass crickets began chirping, a bullfrog adding into the sound every once in awhile. As you watched him you could see the bags under his eyes, the heavy slump of his shoulders. Your usually vibrant Dean wasn't shining like usual.

A deep sigh left your lungs as you found your hand moving to cup the side of his face, his head lifting just enough to see the sad smile on your lips. “You look tired Mo ghraidh.”

Dean let out a soft chuckle at the words (even if after years he had yet to figure out what they meant. Once again, you and your eagerness to learn random languages), his eyes crinkled as he returned the same smile, leaning into your touch. “Oh I am tired.”

“You've been busy.”

“that's a fucking understatement.”

“Well,” You sighed, lightly patting his cheek before leaning in to press a kiss to where your palm had been. “You can tell me all about if over breakfast tomorrow, and then you can get my rundown.”

“sounds like a deal.” He swallowed, almost losing his words as he took you in. The firelight dancing across your skin and making your eyes blaze to life. God, you were beautiful. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Dee.” Your smile slowly grew as you pulled him into a tight hug, feeling him bury his face in your neck. Hugs like this felt like home. It felt peaceful and calm. . .something you hadn't been in a very long time.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean woke slowly the next morning, the house eerily silent as he threw back the sheets. Either you and Sam were stealth artists in the morning or he’d slept like the dead. The sunlight made the hunter squint as he trudged tiredly towards the kitchen, his eyes not used to seeing sunlight in the mornings after getting so used to a dark bunker. Sam was seated at the kitchen counter, an empty bowl of cereal next to him as he spoke softly to someone on the phone, probably Jody or Donna.

“Morning.”

“Morning.” Sam slightly lifted the phone from his ear. “Y/N poured you coffee. It’s on the table.”

Mumbling a tired thanks, Dean used the heel of his hand to rub at his eyes, yawning as he moved passed Sam to wrap his hand around the mug you had left. It was only when he was sinking down into one of the vacant seats did he let his eyes search the room for you. It was easy to see that you weren’t there though. The only occupants in the house being him and his brother. Slowly sipping on the coffee in his hands he waited patiently for Sam to finish the call. When he hung up he finally allowed himself to speak.

“You seen Y/N this morning?”

“Yeah, I think she’s out back.” Sam grinned over the lip of his own mug as he watched Dean turn his head to look out the back windows. “Surprised the two of you weren’t snuggled up last night with each other.”

“Stop it.” Dean warned, turning again this time to glare at his brother.

“What? Isn’t that how it is?”

“No! And you know it. And don’t give me the whole but so many people can see it crap. You know this lifestyle aint built for romance . . .or whatever.” he muttered the last words before suddenly pushing himself up from his seat once again and heading towards the back door, coffee still in hand. Eager to leave the conversation behind.

in truth Dean wanted nothing more to be with you, Truly be with you. To hold you like you were meant to be held. To tell you he loved you. To drown you in kisses. But this life wasn't built for it. You both knew that, that was why you didn't make any bold moves towards each other. Arms length away meant safety and safety meant living.

In the morning light it was much easier to take in the surroundings, the steps to the back porch ended at the grass before the partially overgrown lawn went down to the waters edge, a weather worn dock leading out onto the blue waters. It took him a moment for his eyes to find you but when he does hes almost taken back. Your laying on the dock, one foot tangling over the water while the other was tucked up, your sunglasses perched on your nose as you hold an open book above you, clearly reading.

It’s a sight to say the least. You look calm. Content even. And that’s a very rare thing to see on you. For as long as Dean has known you, you have always been a person in motion, always busy with something, wether that be pacing the bunkers library nose deep in a lore book or swinging a machete at vamps. It’s a foreign sight to see you doing something that doesn’t involve monsters in any aspect. He pauses for a moment where the grass ends and the dock begins before stepping out onto it, the light creak making you look up from your book as he walked towards you.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Sam told me I would find you out here. You get up early?”

“I’m always up early. You know that.” You smiled, closing your book and dropping it onto your chest. “I’m surprised your up. You looked tired last night.”

“Yeah, well. My sleep schedules kinda fucked already.” Dean sighed, crossing his arms before deciding to sit down next to you.

“You look grumpy. What happened?”

“Sam happened. It’s nothing.”

Swinging your other leg back onto the dock you slowly sat up. “Doesn’t sound like nothing. You wanna talk about it?”

“Oh ho, no way.” He shook his head, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up towards the sun. 

“Well alright, fine.” You shrugged, You knew when it was a good time to prod and when it wasn't. This was one of the latter.

“What are you doing out here anyways?”

“Reading, what does it look like?” you quipped, popping to your feet before bending down to pick up your book. “plus, I need the sun. Hunters tend to get pale when they only work in the dark.”

“maybe i should lay out her then.”

That got a laugh out of you.

“What?”

“Dude, you lay out here for an hour and its gonna look like you got bitch slapped by the sun. . .no offense.” You joked, holding out a hand to hoist him up.

“Nah, you're probably right.”

“I would pay good money to see that though.”

“You're such an asshole.”

“I know.” giving him a pat on the shoulder you began walking back towards the house, the hunter watching you closely as you retreated.

There was something different out you. The way you carried yourself and the way you spoke. Most people wouldn't catch on but he did. Something was off. He could practically feel it radiating off of you in waves, even if you were acting like everything was normal. You were acting uncommonly lighthearted.

“You said last night you were gonna tell me why you're all the way out here in some small town USA. Care to fill me in?” He suddenly spoke, following you off the dock.

There was silence for a moment, almost as if he caught you off guard. “I told you, it’s a family safe house. I was staying here while hunting the rugaru. Just needed a week to rest up before I headed out again.” You shrugged.

A week to rest up? When Sam has talked to Jody she had said you had been out here for almost five. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched you walk up the back steps. There was something else you weren’t telling him.

“You found a new case yet?”

“Oh uh. . . No. No I haven’t.” Shaking your head casually before holding the door open for Dean and stepping inside.

There was his second hint that something was up. You were the type of hunter that was always on their toes, looking for the next case before one was wrapped up. Dean didn’t know how you did it. Sure he could do some cases back to back, but he needed breaks every once and awhile.

“Rugaru case must have whipped your ass, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure did.” You mumble.

Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off when you beat him to it. “Let’s get to work on figuring out how to handle these British bastards, okay?” You gave Dean one of your soft smiles, running a hand through his hair as you passed by and entered the kitchen.

Watching you go, Dean felt a new sense of worry grow in his chest. You weren’t acting like you. Something was eating at you, and the thought of you being in pain broke his heart.

SPN Taglist:

@familybusinesswritingbro​@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti​ @callmekda​ @jordangdelacruz​ @orphiceseum​ @andthatsmyworld​ @marvelfangirllll @fandomnerdespressourself @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx @lxstgxrl-ck @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl  @totallyluciferr @supernaturalenchanted @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler @heyyy-hey-babyyy @idksupernatural @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo @xoxoaudreymarie @greenarrowhead @mrsjenniferwinchester  @mysticalfuncollectorus @brebolin @biahblue @noahandthegiraffe @hhiggs

[buckysgoldenheart]

F-Buds: Seb Stan x Reader

Summary: You and Seb are friends with benefits and Seb has had enough.

Words: 2345

Warnings: Cursing some. Not proofread. 

Your fist pounded hard against the door belonging to the one person you could turn to in your moment of need after an undesirable crisis.

“Seb, open up!” Slow footsteps could be heard on the other side of the wood panel and you groaned loud at his lack of haste. “Seb, seriously, open the damn door!”

Your clenched hand paused mid-air as the door swung open to reveal your disheveled friend. He rubbed his eyes with one hand as the other ran through tousled locks.

“Finally!” You said, throwing your hands up and slipping past him into his large apartment. You tossed your purse on the couch as Seb closed the door, his body still half asleep.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” He asked, finally meeting your Y/E/C eyes that held nothing but frustration, though not intended for him. No, your anger was directed toward the man you had spent hours, hours, with only for him to leave you alone by the end of the night, sexually unsatisfied. He was a rare man looking for commitment which was not something you were ready to give.

“It’s 2 a.m. Are you aware of that?” Seb said, folding his arms across a solid, bare chest, finally taking in the full view of you. “Well, look who’s all dolled up. Big date?”

“Oh, shut up.” You groaned at his sarcastic tone. “You know I wouldn’t be here at this hour if my night went the way I wanted it to. Seriously, when did men start wanting relationships? Isn’t it supposed to be all sex, sex, sex with you guys?”

Seb rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess it depends on the people and, ya know, timing.”

“Timing.” You scoffed as you slipped out of your jacket and set it over the back of a barstool. “One of those things desperate people make up to make themselves feel better about getting dumped.”

Seb rolled his eyes and puffed out a breath.

“’Oh, well, he was nice, but the timing wasn’t quite right.’” You said in your best ‘ditsy girl’ voice. “AKA, ‘he dumped me and broke my heart, but I’m not gonna tell you bitches that.’”

“Why are you so cynical? God Y/N, do you ever want to find someone?” Seb asked as he watched you kick off your skyscraper heels.

“I’m not going to go scan the city with a metal detector so I can settle for some scrap of a man just to say that I have one.”

Arms still crossed, Seb leaned against a wall and watched you place your heels by your bag. “Yea, well what if there was a man that really cared about you, but you brushed him off because you didn’t give him a chance?”

Your face pinched. “That’s stupid.”

“Oh, really? Because you go around looking for men to fuck, and even when they want you for more than your body you completely shut them down. Then you come running to me to satisfy you.”

You whipped your head to his at the judgement. “So, what?”

“So, what? Y/N, you’re scared of love, of even the possibility of love and it hurts me to see you go through life like that.”

“I’m not fucking scared, Seb. Don’t be ridiculous.” You whined, then after a few seconds of silence between you, smiled your best suggestive smile and swayed your hips as you strutted over to blue-eyed man.

He held your eyes with his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, but he portrayed no emotion at your behavior.

“C’mon Seb, I don’t want to have this conversation. Can’t we just kiss and have our amazing sex and just call it a night? I’m stressed and I need release. I need you.”

Seb wasn’t grabbing you. He wasn’t holding you close to his body or making any move to kiss your lips. He just stood there while you hanged off him, his arms at his sides as you pouted.

He sucked in a deep breath and you instantly got excited for him to give in to you and make a damn move. A smile replaced your pout as you felt his hands graze your hips before trailing up the length of your dress, along your curves until he made his way to the arms clinging to him. Rough palms grasped firmly on your forearms.

Slowly, he untangled your limbs and placed them back at your sides, holding them there for an extra second to make sure they stayed in place before releasing you and taking a step back.

“No,” He sighed, struggling on the word. “I can’t.”

“What?”

Seb sucked in a breath and swallowed. “I can’t—I can’t keep doing this with you. It’s not…fair anymore.”

You crossed your arms and planted yourself steady, your posture straight like a wall ready to block out the coming assault. “Fair to whom exactly, Seb?”

A dead chuckle shot out of his mouth, stinging your ears. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“What!”

“God, Y/N!” He nearly shouted, fisting his hands in his dark brown hair. “I let this go on for too long. I really did. I only allowed it in the first place because the woman I’m in love with threw herself at me, repeatedly, claiming that I was the only one that could satisfy her. I didn’t have the willpower to tell you no, to ask for anything more from you because I knew you would end what little we had.

“I was stupid, and weak, and I’ve wanted you so bad for so long and I felt like I finally had a piece of you, but that’s not enough anymore. It’s time for me to step back from this, because otherwise I’m gonna go insane.”

His heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard throughout the apartment now. That, and the agonizing pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “You love me?”

Seb scoffed and crossed his arms, the muscles budging more, it seemed, than an average humans should. “You fucking knew that.”

“No, Seb, I didn’t.” God, if you had known…

“Just go.”

“What?” You recoiled as if he had hit you, tears stinging your eyes.

“Just…please, Y/N, I can’t, just go.”

  -----------------------------------------------------------------

Next Day:

 You groaned around your ice cream spoon at the knock on your door. You didn’t want to deal with anyone; at this hour, it would most likely be the old bat next door who always complained when your TV volume exceeded five. If she knew what was good for her she’d turn herself right around and go back to that doily museum she calls an apartment. God, you were mean when you were hurting, but who disturbs someone fifteen minutes before midnight anyway? It’s the time when the most miserable of people binge-watch brain-cell-killing reality TV and eat cookie dough ice cream topped with full snickers bars and m&ms. What asshole would dare interrupt that?

Yea, you weren’t answering that door. Or, you wouldn’t, if whoever was on the other side would leave you in miserable peace.

“Agnes!” You yelled as you harshly set the ice cream carton on the coffee table and walked to the entryway. “If you go away now, I’ll turn the volume down to a respectable seven, but that’s it!”

You waited a moment to hear if the tiny old lady’s footsteps would retreat, but then the knock came again. At the sound, you huffed out a deep breath and whipped the door open. “Son of a bitch.”

“Who is Agnes,” Seb asked. “And why does she deserve the hard end of your wrath?”

Somehow the frown on your face grew deeper at the casual nature of the joke. “Don’t worry about my relationship with Agnes, ok? Just mind your own business,” You snapped, then turned on your heel and went back to the couch.

“Ok,” Seb started, “You didn’t slam the door in my face so I’m going to assume that I’m allowed inside of the apartment.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “Is this a fair assumption?”

Without looking at him and his annoyingly handsome face, you grabbed the carton and began to dig in again, then made a small noise that neither agreed nor disagreed with what he said. You couldn’t decide if you had made a mistake once he finally entered your apartment and shut the door behind him. When he chose to block your view of the awful reality show, you realized you definitely had.

You took another bite of your dessert. “I don’t know if you know this, but you make a better door than you do a window.”

“I do know that,” He said, sloughing off his leather jacket, tossing it next to you on the couch, and aggressively rolling up his long sleeves just above the elbow.

“What, are you gonna fight me?”

“Depends on whether or not you plan to actually listen to what I have to say.”

You pretended to contemplate for a minute, staring him down as you continued to eat more snickers. “My boxing gloves aren’t here, so rain check on the fight.”

“Alright.” He groaned, then took the remote off the table and clicked off your show.

“Hey!” Seb held the remote out of your reach then turned and threw it through the open door of your bedroom. “Are you fucking with me?”

Seb walked closer to you and bent down at the waist, planting is arms either side of your body on the couch and forcing your eyes to meet his. You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke. “You are going to listen.”

“Oh, yea?” Your eyebrows rose and you crossed your arms in the small space between your bodies.

“Yea.”

Your eyes remained locked as you moved to stand, not caring that his body was blocking yours and so forcing him to lean back until he stood tall in front of you. “So, you just get to be the biggest hypocrite in the world, do you? You get to get mad at me then force me out of your place when I try to talk to you, and now you come over here and demand I listen to you speak?”

“…Yes.”

Your shook your head and rolled your eyes, then went for the kitchen. He followed. Grabbing a soda out of the fridge and opening it, you said, “Alright, fine then. Go for it.” You took a sip.

Seb’s eyes widened a bit as if he didn’t expect to easily persuade you, but they settled back into determination. “Ok, look, I know asking you to leave—”

“Yelling at me to leave.”

“Fine. I know that yelling at you to leave was a dick move, but…” Seb paused and stepped towards you. You head jerked back at his sudden movement, but your body remained planted in its spot. “I didn’t expect to get so upset, ok?” He said. “Well no, that’s not true. I knew I’d be upset. I got pissed every single time you only came to me for sex, but I didn’t think I would lash out. It’s just…it’s been a year.”

He sounded exhausted and you finally understood. You finally saw just how long you had been in denial, and how long you had been hurting more than just yourself. You looked away and to the blue tiles of your kitchen floor. Seb grabbed your hand and you jumped a little at how fast he managed to move to you. “Look at me,” he whispered and squeezed your fingers. With his free hand he took the soda out of yours and put it on the counter, then grabbed that hand as well. “Y/N.”

You took a deep breath and met his eyes. “Seb…”

“I’m sorry.” He dropped your hands and placed his own on your cheeks, brushing away the tears that began to fall at some point. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s ok, Seb.” You cut him off. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I didn’t think I was. I knew what I was doing to myself, but if I thought I was making you feel the same, I never would’ve—”

Sebs eyebrows pinched together. “Doing to yourself?”

“What?”

“What exactly were you doing to yourself?”

You flinched and sighed. As you tried to lower your eyes, Seb’s grip on your face held firm. “Damn it,” You whispered to yourself, then said to him, “Why do you think I keep coming back to you every chance I get; why nothing ever works out with these other men? I tried it, finding someone else to sleep with so I could stop torturing myself, but it never worked. At the end of every date, I turned them down just so I had an excuse to be with you.”

Seb’s jaw dropped and after enough agonizing seconds of silence, you brushed his hands off your face. Deciding to keep your ice cream from further melting, you moved around Seb’s body, but he turned and grabbed you around the forearm. “What exactly are you saying?”

“It’s not clear?”

“No.”

You shifted your body back in front of his. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

He smirked then. “I said it to you. It’s only fair.”

You rolled your eyes and ran a hand through your messy strands. “You know I’m not good at this stuff.”

Somehow, he got closer to you. “Yea, I do.” He placed his hands on the sides of your neck and stroked the edges of your jaw with his thumbs. “I can wait. I have absolutely nowhere to be.”

“Oh, really? You have nowhere to be at midnight on a Tuesday? I’m shocked.”

“Y/N.”

“Fine,” You sighed, closed your eyes for a moment, then looked at him. “I love you.”

Seb smiled and touched his forehead to yours long enough for you to smile as well and place your hands on his chest. “I love you, too,” He said, then tilted your head back and touched his lips to yours.

 Tags: Perm: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz @xceafh @jazzwoman897 @fandoms-who @meganwinchester1999 @ufffg @debra77 @rebelliouscat @anise-d-castle6 @projectxhappiness @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @lowkeysebby @stringgeek13 @quotemeow @notmyfault404 @jjamesbbarness @stangirl4eva @guera31 @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @vibhati123 @mywinterwolf​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @lokilvrr​ @private-bucky-barnes

[effymaybe]

Might buy, might bite

Lisa is having a terrible night. She makes some poor decisions, unaware of a certain creature awaiting in the dark. - 

Vampire!Jennie because it is not Halloween but vampires are always cool.

Pairing: Jennie/Lisa

Warnings: Mature content but the sexy kind / Vampires are not known by establishing ideally healthy relationships on the first try / I haven’t written in months and you CAN notice 

The night is unusually dark.

The few stars above palpitate almost painfully, and the darkish clouds invisible against the black mattress of the sky become only evident as they engulf the full moon in a loose hug. The contrast creates a faint, somber light that coats the quiet neighborhood as in a silent spell, and the yellowish glow of the few artificial lanterns surrounding the street only contribute to the mysterious vibe of the otherwise familiar landscape.

The absolutely rational portion of Lisa’s brain knows very well that a woman should never walk alone at night. She also knows, stored along other probably-live-saving hacks, that in case of finding herself indeed walking alone at night, she should never ever choose a lonely, poorly illuminated shortcut to reach her destination.

Now, although Lisa’s rationale works quite well, her emotional side couldn’t give less a fuck about surviving.

And that’s how she finds herself walking-running-crying throughout the most dangerous way home.

Her overly-expensive makeup is intact, thankfully, but the tight white dress she chose to impersonate an angel at that damn Halloween party is crumbled everywhere. Her long, black hair is quite messy, but at least her bangs are still in place. She’s running in her heels, much at the sake of her feet, and the ridiculous white wings she was so proud about just three hours ago hit softly against her back as she rushes to burry herself under a billion mattresses.

It’s pitiable, really, how he manages to break her heart in more and more pieces every time she decides to put it back into his hands.

It’s pitiable, too, how every single person she knows manages to betray her at least once.

Lisa stops in her tracks, feeling her long legs weakening suddenly. A ragged sob escapes from her plump lips as she brings her hands up to contain the tears spilling mercilessly from her eyes.

It was supposed to be a fun, happy party to celebrate that the big group of whatever they mean with “friends” could finally gather together after a long time of isolation. She prepared herself along with the girls, her own doe eyes shining in poorly-hidden excitement. She laughed genuinely at the questionably-mannered comments about her costume, drank a bit of rosé even before they got to the gathering. Once there, her boyfriend dedicated her a crooked, cocky smile and grasped her roughly by the waist in what Lisa considered a sign of appreciation. They danced and they drank alcohol. At some point, the brunette thought that her partner was going to kiss her, but he merely hugged her stiffly every time Lisa stared into his eyes.  

Then, time passed and he disappeared. Lisa’s so-called friends spread throughout the place to dance without her. Her feet started to hurt and the party got uncomfortably warm. She looked for him with her doe eyes lost under the flashing lights until she decided he wasn’t on the gigantic living room.

Then, she looked upstairs.

And she heard the moans even before she actually saw something.

Lisa didn’t want it to be her boyfriend. Her hands shook as she merely pushed the half-closed door completely open. She stared with her heart already weeping as the man that had promised her never to hurt her again twice engaged quite passionately in a much intimate activity with a girl who, amidst the dirty blonde hair covering her face, looked quite familiar.

It only took Lisa two seconds.

Her boyfriend was fucking her best friend.

Lisa ran downstairs, crying, ignoring her now ex-boyfriend’s weak protests and her ex-best-friend’s voice basically begging him to forget her and come back to bed. When she found to her group, or what she could gather of it, with her eyes already filled with tears, the simply told her that of course they knew and that she was kinda stupid not to notice, really.

Lisa bolted out of the party with her usually sunny spirit completely shattered.

Which brings her to her current situation, still sobbing desperately as the alley she is walking through gets gloomier and gloomier.

Fuck him. Fuck them, too. I deserve better. I deserve-

She catches a weak, airy sound with her left ear.

Lisa turns around suddenly sober and suddenly very much aware of the fact that she got herself in quite a disadvantageous situation.

The night got warmer, somehow. The moonlight has given up under the insisting obscure clouds.

Lisa feels the cold shiver of pure fear shooting through her spine and relaxes only slightly when she cannot spot anybody around the place.

She swallows thickly as she starts to walk faster, her footwear clicking on the pavement almost as if giving her in.

The brunette feels wired in, hyperaware. The fain sound of the wind makes her shoulders tense. She catches a quick shadow with the corner of her eye and only gets more nervous when she can still see nothing.

The narrow space crooks at some point, and Lisa inhales deeply.

She can do it.

She will walk straight home and gather plenty of strength and call her stupid ex-boyfriend to tell him-

But she cannot keep walking.

As her slender body submerges more profoundly into the darkness of the night, a strong grip pushes her against the rough, cold wall of the alley. She fights back, absolutely terrified. Her heart hammers painfully against her choked chest, and she feels the tingles of pure adrenaline strengthening her arms.

And yet, the grip remains solid.

Lisa thinks about shouting, crying, breaking down in a loud wail hoping to be rescued. Just then, with her voice already reaching her throat, she realizes that the figure keeping her in place is slightly shorter than her.

Feminine, surprisingly delicate.

Lisa can’t scream.

Her eyes search widely the ones of her captor, absolutely dumbfounded, and it is at that moment when the moon can finally push the disturbing darkness away from its light.

As the alley gets brighter, Lisa is left absolutely breathless.

Just in front of her, with both hands immobilizing her body completely, stands the most beautiful girl Lisa has seen in her entire life.

Her face is soft, but cut sharply by prominent cheekbones. Her eyes, dark as the silent sky, are drawn in a cat-line shape that makes her gaze simply melting. Her nose is delicate, small, and her indented philtrum leads to luscious, curved lips. Her forehead is half-covered by open bangs, and her light-brownish hair falls in irresistible waves against her soft jaw. Her dress, tight, black, and visibly expensive, exposes prominent collarbones and a set of curves that should be illegal for a single woman to have.

Lisa only realizes that she’s staring when she hears a soft teasing chuckle.

“Well, hello, honey”.

The brunette presses her lips together in a nervous habit. The girl’s voice is sultry, tempting.

She finds herself struggling for a few seconds before answering.

“Huh- Who…? What…?”

The beauty in front of her licks her mouth almost as if gloating. Her grip remains stoic.

“Who are you, honey?”

Lisa feels somewhat offended. She tears her astonished gaze away from the girl’s face to focus on trying to escape.

“No, who are you? What is this? Let me go!”

She tries with all her will, but the light-brunette’s grip does not give in.

There is something… wrong with it. Cold. Too steady.

It feels like she’s struggling against iron.

Another chuckle heats up her cheeks.

“I’m Jennie”, she hears, and Lisa stops fighting for a moment, “There is no need to be so rude. I was just trying to put a name on my next meal”.

The tallest girl scoffs loudly but grows quiet at the girl’s determined expression.

Jennie doesn’t sound like she’s joking.

“You smell so good”, the shortest girl murmurs. Lisa can’t move. She’s suddenly scared again, as her brain tries desperately to put some of the pieces of all that nonsense together. “Let me….”. The light-brunette shifts, burring her face bluntly against her neck. Lisa is still terrified, really, but Jennie’s chilly breath against her skin rises pleased goosebumps here and there.

The shortest girl runs her nose up her prey’s throat, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, sweetie, you smell fantastic. Fuck”.

Lisa trembles as her skepticism falters.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. What the hell are you?”

She hears a delicate, throaty chuckle vibrating against her pulse point.

Lisa’s knees give in further, somehow.

She tries earnestly to remind herself that the serious possibility of getting murdered in the same night she found her boyfriend having sex with her best friend should not be sexy at all.

“You know the answer, already, cutie. Don’t you?”

Jennie pulls away to lock her gaze with Lisa’s again. There is a predatory glint, a paralyzing edge that makes her cat-like eyes seem as if they could pick on every piece of the tallest girl’s soul.

“I… yes. No, I mean…. You don’t exist. This can’t be”.

The shortest girl’s lets a perfect eyebrow curve in a teasing manner. Lisa can tell that she’s plenty enjoying whatever sick pre-murder game she’s playing. She’s beautiful, the dark-haired girl thinks helplessly. Stunning. Jennie’s luscious mouth spreads in an open, gummy smile that would look adorable if it wasn’t for the –absolutely threatening and not at all attractive- sight of her pointy fangs in display. Lisa manages to stop staring at the girl’s reddened lips to focus on her intense orbs once again, and she lets out a breathless gasp when she sees deep coffee turning into bloody red.

“I do very much exist, gorgeous. And this definitely can be. I wasn’t even going to hunt today, but…” Jennie brings mouth closer to Lisa’s jaw. “Your scent… I had to have you”.

Jennie is not exactly courting. She’s more like being a blood-thirsty, all-powerful, over-intense vampire. Yet, Lisa finds herself blushing like a damn idiot. She knows, at a relatively conscious level, that the smoking light-brunette is just speaking about the very much needed liquid that runs through her veins and not about her whole physique.

She’s about to be Jennie’s next meal. And as the vampire´s fingers indent more profoundly in her skin, she discovers that there is no way out.

So she stays, somewhat embracing her destiny. Her ex-friends are shit. Her ex-boyfriend is shit. Her father is shit. She doesn’t really know whether her mom is shit or not because she abandoned when she was a child so- well that probably makes her shit, too.

At least she’ll die at the hands of a gorgeous woman.

Meanwhile, Jennie’s stare has changed. Deep red has settled in her orbs, but now she’s staring at Lisa’s features with scrutinizing detail. Her head is tilted. The tallest girl can see the delicate mole sitting just above her left eye. Her aura is intense, and definitely hypnotizing, and the brunette finds out that she has stopped fighting against the vampire’s embrace long minutes ago.

“You are so beautiful, sweetheart”, Jennie murmurs suddenly, and lets the pad of her index finger run softly against Lisa’s forehead, then the bridge of her nose, her pouty lips, her strong jaw. The tallest girl trembles, finding it difficult to draw deep breaths. Jennie’s touch is icy against her overly-heated face and it feels so nice, so charming. “So beautiful, baby. Tell me your name”.

And Lisa doesn’t even put up a fight.

“Lisa…Manoban”.

“Mmh, we’ll see that”, Jennie answers, and licks her lips as she traces her blunt nails against her prey’s throat. “You are so enticing, darling”, then, as an afterthought, Jennie brings her gaze up to Lisa’s mouth, “I bet you have an owner already… well… that’s not my problem, really”.

A twisted smile crawls up Jennie’s smug expression, and the brunette scoffs loudly.

“I do not have-”, her voice falters as the vampire’s starts to trace messy patterns up and down her thigs, “An owner. I mean, nobody does. It is not-”, the shortest girl’s nose dips back into her neck, “It doesn’t work like that”.

She feels another cold chuckle pressing against her skin.

“Fine, then. A boyfriend? A girlfriend? A partner?”

Lisa opens her mouth to answer. She’s about to be dismissive, really. If the vampire is really about to suck her dry, there is no need for her to put her fingers inside such a hurtful open wound.

But she can’t speak. She feels her lungs aching for air as Jennie starts to drag her velvety lips against her racing pulse point.

“I asked you a question”, she hears up her jaw, “Do you have a partner, Lisa?”. Jennie’s left arm squeezes Lisa’s small waist firmly, demanding. The tallest girl feels hazy as the vampire leaves open-mouthed kisses along her exposed skin.

“I- no. No, he… he cheated on me”.

Lisa guesses that the mere thought of the past events in the night should make her feel profoundly depressed. It’s actually kind of hard to think properly with the vampire’s sweet scent engulfing her senses.

Jennie stops suddenly, and the tallest girl feels irrationally disappointed.

“Is that why you were crying?”, the shortest girl asks, her red eyes- now more threatening than ever- burning into Lisa’s doe stare.

“I… how long have you been-”

The light-brunette frowns as her mouth curls downwards.

Lisa realizes that the girl likes her answers straight.

Well, damn.

“Since you left that stupidly loud party. What a waste of time for a beauty like you”.

The brunette is left speechless. She stares at the shortest girl with slight surprise. She doesn’t really know what a cold-blooded vampire that clearly has her under her entire disposition could win by such a display of sensibility.

Then, something changes. The light-brunette smirks once again, as if empowered, her aura shifting towards something dangerous, irresistible. Her soft hands start to run up and down Lisa’s body slowly, grazing the underside of her breasts, and the tallest girl cannot even think about the fact that she could try to run away once again.

“Don’t you see, sweetie?” Jennie murmurs deceiving against the skin of her neck, “Don’t you see that I could treat you so well?”.

The vampire inhales deeply just pressing against her prey’s pulse point, as if trying to contain something extremely forceful. “I could make you feel so good, baby, so good”. When Jennie’s hands reach to palm her breasts gently, Lisa gives up. She closes her eyes, powerless, and her mouth falls open as the shortest girl licks along her jawline, now exploring her back. “I love this”, the brunette hears vibrating against her ear, and it takes her a moment to realize that Jennie is talking about the damn wings, “They look cute. It was so fun following you around”.

“Oh my god”, Lisa breathes, and the shortest girl smiles against her neck.

The moon shines brightly now. The shadows of the night highlight Jennie’s acute features almost dangerously. There is a faint scent, hers, all hers, that clouds Lisa’s thinking. When she feels a firm, naked leg parting her own thighs, the tallest girl can’t help but to throw her head back in a spur of delight. The firm pressure against her moisty heat sends her into a frenzy.

“You are so beautiful baby. All for me. You just have so say yes”.

Lisa’s dizzy judgment wonders why would a vampire need permission for something that she can take so easily.

When Jennie starts to suck reddish spots on her sensitive skin, the brunette can hardly gather another thought.

“Say yes, beautiful. Let me taste you”. The vampire nibbles at Lisa’s velvety throat with her front teeth, soft at first and more insistently due the lack of response. A needy groan goes past Jennie’s lips as the tallest girl’s flavor falls onto her tongue. “Fuck, sweetie. Come on. Say yes. Give in, Lisa”.

Jennie uses her strong hands to guide the tallest girl’s waist so she can ride her leg in a steady pace. The dirty mewl that breaks off Lisa’s throat should be enough, but she knows that the vampire wants straight answers and she would give her anything, anything she wants just to keep up with the pleasing friction.

“Yes”, she lets out in a moan, feeling her body pleasingly trapped between the vampire’s strong body and the rough wall. “Yes, yes, oh-”.

Jennie doesn’t want any longer. She doesn’t think she can actually. The smell of Lisa’s thick blood now combined with her raw wetness unveil an animalistic nature she tried to keep at bay. She drags her piercing fangs along the brunette’s neck once, just to tease her a bit further, before actually biting down in pure need.

The taste alone almost gets her off.

It’s delicious, succulent, rich, even more addictive than she expected.

Jennie has never stopped herself from drinking blood, whether fresh or packed, whenever she needed it. She has been in it for centuries, damn it, and yet Lisa’s tangy-sweet savor is something her now gleeful taste buds have never experienced.

The vampire smiles in an almost sick euphoria as she feels the thick liquid spilling here and there. She alternates between sucking earnestly and lapping in a happy delirium, and feels the girl against her getting desperate to speed up her delicious motions.

For Lisa, it was brief pain, the feeling of sharp needles piercing through her skin.

And then, pure, consuming bliss.

She didn’t even know it could feel like that. It probably can’t, in normal conditions, but she is not even able to consider it properly properly with her clothed core grinding wet against Jennie’s bare thigh.

“Fuck, baby. You are the most exquisite thing I’ve ever tried”.

Lisa hears the vampire’s words coming in short gasps. It turns her on even further. Everything feels so nice, so damn right that she can’t bring herself to care anymore. When Jennie tongues the fresh wounds in her throat, she clenches hard.

“Such a good girl, Lisa. All mine”.

The brunette feels the vampire’s tongue deep inside her mouth before she realizes that she’s moving. A tang of copper combines with a cherry-like flavor that can only be Jennie’s. She mewls against the shortest girl’s mouth, her eyes shut closed as she takes in the relentless waves of pleasure that shoot through her body.

Lisa begins to thrust in abandon. She wants to thank Jennie for helping her find the perfect pace with her steady hands. She wants to thank her for making her feel so, so fucking good. She wants to be perfect for her at that moment and offer, just offer it all. A burning fire sets low, and it grows impossibly grand. She feels it tying and tying and she wants to cry out in desperation. She pleads right against the vampire’s demanding lips.

“Please, please… Please, Jennie”.

She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for, but the light-brunette does. With just a flicker of her wrists, Jennie changes the angle of Lisa’s thrusts. The shift hits perfectly, just there, all that the brunette needed, and she hears as the occasional moans she can’t help but to let out when Jennie releases her swollen lips get increasingly louder.

“It’s okay, sweetheart”, the vampire sucks in her tongue just for another moment, “Come for me. Show me, baby. I want to see it all”.

Lisa does not need any more convincing.

As if wired to Jennie’s firm orders, her body lets go in a powerful release that has her high for a few minutes. When she comes down, she feels Jennie’s lips catching a few tears of pure overstimulation falling from her eyes.

She is panting, damp, and incredibly exhausted, she gathers both because of the astonishing peak and the non-incidental loss of blood. Her head falls almost shyly on top of the shortest girl’s shoulder, but the vampire seems completely unbothered by the gesture.

She keeps holding her, waiting. Her hands run through her back almost soothingly, and then begin to fix her clothes in a surprising display of care. When Jennie’s knuckles graze against her underwear, Lisa jolts and whimpers a half-serious complaint.

The vampire smiles.

“You did so well, beautiful”, Lisa feels soft pecks pressed against the skin of her neck, “but I think you ruined your panties”.

The brunette allows herself to chuckle before inhaling deeply.

It’s clearly over.

A shiver of fear runs through her spine but there is not much else to do. She knows that there is no point in even trying to run away. She’s not even sure of being able to stand without Jennie’s anchoring arms.

“Are you… gonna kill me now?”

Lisa feels as the vampire detaches herself slowly from her body.

Her heart starts to beat furiously against her chest.

It’s truly over isn’t it?

She makes an effort to meet Jennie’s intense gaze with hers. When she finds pure confusion in a renewed coffee tone, she doubts her own words, too.

“Kill you, darling? What are you talking about?”

Lisa hesitates for a moment.

“Huh, since you are… a vampire and all”.

Brief recognition illuminates Jennie’s expression to then be replaced by an almost edged amusement.

“Oh, baby”, she murmurs, and uses her knuckles to caress the tallest girl’s features almost reverently, “You really thought I would kill you? And deprive myself from a gorgeous human like you? Absolutely not. I’ve been looking so long to find someone exactly like you. And now that I have…” her fingers grasp the brunette’s chin, forcing their stares to melt, “you are mine, Lisa. And I take care of what belongs to me”.

The tallest girl opens her mouth, stunned. She figures she should feel furious.

She’s mostly in disbelief.

“But…”

“You already said yes, cutie”, Jennie giggles. She looks so young, suddenly mischievous, happy with herself. “I have already marked you. There’s no way out”.

Again, Lisa figures she should feel furious.

She’s mostly… considering.

“I’m going to take you home now”, Jennie tells her, and eyes Lisa’s neck in a bust of pride. “I promised the girls that I was going to take a human someday. They’ll be ecstatic”.

“The girls?”, Lisa mumbles. She feels Jennie’s hand grasping hers, pulling her in, dragging her somewhere.

Her feet follow as if in a spell.

“Rosé and Jisoo. They are getting bored, I guess. It’s been only us three for centuries. They could use some new company”, there is a pause, “as long as I make their boundaries really clear”.

“Boundaries?”

Lisa is lost, but not completely. There is something growing in her chest. A warm, fuzzy feeling.

“I don’t share, Lisa”.

“Oh”.

They stay in silence for a few seconds. Jennie analyzes Lisa’s expression carefully. Her hold is firm and cold, yet somewhat tender. The tallest girl simply waits. There is no need to make a decision. She feels her own limbs going back to a relaxed, pleased position.

“Ready, darling?”

Jennie is testing her. In response, Lisa licks her lips. The faint taste of iron and strawberries makes her smile.

“Yes, I am ready”.

Jennie’s eyes light up in silent happiness only to turn deep brown again.

“Perfect. Let’s hurry up. I’m dying to taste the rest of you”.

Lisa wonders if she’ll get to sleep before that happens. Or if she’ll make it into some form of a shower.

As she delights herself with the gorgeous figure of her captor, she figures she doesn’t mind, really.

[nothingunrealistic]

Prompt/request: Winston has been SUPER burned out lately because of, yunno, the pressure to prove himself and actually be valued for his contributions to mase cap while almost everyone rags on him, and eventually it gets ... too far. I'll leave it vague to give you some freedom. Cue dynamics between Taylor, Rian and Mafee (because not enough people pay attention to the latter relationship, I know Mafee was a giant dickwad to Winston in 4x11 but he might as well has his own loyalties tested).

Renovations have been going on all week at Axe Capital, and the noise is really ruining the ambience of the office. Luckily for Rian, none of the construction work is happening inside the Mase Carb enclave, but glass walls don’t block out all the sound, just muffle it.

With everyone trying to make up the losses from the Shine-Lucence collapse, it’s been a week of late nights for the quant team. She’d expect the construction crew to have gone home by now, but they’re still in the building, and the constant clamor of saw and hammer still seeps through the glass. Maybe they don’t have a union.

Rian hits the button on another backtest and leans back in her chair. That should give her an hour at least to look into another project, or maybe just to relax. 

She glances over to Winston, thinking of asking what he’s working on, but he doesn’t look like he’s working at all. Though technically he’s looking at his Bloomberg, or at least pointing his face toward it, his eyes are glazed over. His hands aren’t on his keyboard or mouse; one of them is clicking a pen every few seconds.

Rian pauses her music and takes off her headphones. Normally that would catch Winston’s attention, but he doesn’t look her way. She needs to be more obvious.

“¿Estás pensando en la inmortalidad del cangrejo?”

Winston’s eyes flick over to her, more focused now, giving her a half-hearted attempt at a death glare. He still doesn’t say anything.

“You’re really spacing out right now,” Rian says. “Like, you might as well be in the Oort cloud.” Oh, that’s a good metaphor, very fund-appropriate. She’d better keep that one in her back pocket.

The silent semi-glare lasts several more seconds before Winston speaks. “Long week. I’m tired.”

A hammer bangs against metal somewhere on the main floor, and Winston flinches, eyes flickering shut, fingers curling tighter around the pen. That doesn’t look like ordinary exhaustion.

“Construction getting to you?” Rian says, trying to be casual. Sounding too concerned would make it weird. “I can’t believe they’re still here.”

“Yeah. Can’t block it out, can’t focus.”

“Don’t you have headphones?”

“Broke last week. New pair hasn’t shipped yet.”

The muted clunk of the office door opening turns both Rian’s and Winston’s heads. Mafee’s walked in, and pushed the door so far open that it’s locked into place, letting the sounds of power tools flow in unfiltered. “You guys are still here?”

“Fuck off,” Winston says. A few analysts stare, but Mafee ignores him.

“You’re also still here,” Rian points out.

“Everyone on the trading floor’s gone home. Didn’t expect there to be anyone left here.”

Winston drops his pen onto the desk. “Shut the door, asshole.” 

“Deal with it,” Mafee says.

“Do you know what the renovations are for?” Rian says, as Winston pulls off his glasses and buries his face in his hands. “Or why they’re continuing this late?”

“No clue.” Mafee yanks out an empty desk chair and drops into it with a clatter. “Back in the Westport office, Axe had the meditation room torn up and redone into a panic room. Maybe he’s doing that again.”

“What for?”

“Who knows? It’s Axe, no one has a fucking clue why he does anything until six months later.” A drill whines and buzzes outside; Mafee raises his voice. “I mean, when he was renovating the first time, he was crazy paranoid about there being a quisling in the office, and then in three weeks it was like he’d totally forgotten about it — whoa, hey, man —”

Rian follows his gaze to Winston, who’s pressing his open hands against his face again and again, so hard that it has to hurt. Red scratches run from his hairline down over his forehead. Mafee jumps from his chair and tries to pull Winston’s hands away from his face. “Dude, you’re gonna hurt yourself, don’t do that —” 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Winston grits out, barely intelligible, struggling to yank his hands free of Mafee’s grip.

“Help me out here,” Mafee says, turning back to Rian, but she’s never seen this happen, has no idea what to do. 

Who would know?

Lauren and Wendy are nowhere in sight. Most of the other quants have gone home, and the few left, whose names Rian doesn’t know anyway, are pointedly ignoring events at Winston’s end of the desk. Taylor —

Taylor’s still here, in their office. Taylor knows how to handle problems, how to make things better.

“I’m going to get Taylor,” Rian announces, and gets up from her chair.

On her way, one analyst she passes dares to ask, “What’s going —”

“None of your business,” Rian says, because it seems fitting, and sounds a lot better than I don’t know either and I’m scared.

She slips into Taylor’s office. With their laptop open and the desk phone pressed to their ear, they don’t notice her even when the door shuts behind her. This might be a bad time.

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Taylor says into the phone, before setting it on the desk. “Yes. Is this urgent?”

“Well, Winston’s kind of freaking out, and Mafee and I don’t know what to do,” Rian says, “so… yeah?”

Taylor looks toward Winston, and their brow furrows over widening eyes. They pick up the phone just long enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’ll need to call you back another day,” before hanging up and slamming the laptop shut. In less time than it took Rian to decide to ask Taylor for help, they’re out the door; she follows them.

“Please go home and close the door behind you,” she hears them say to the remaining quants, who hurry to shut off their computers and pack up their things. When they get to Winston, they wave away Mafee — he’s gotten the message to get his hands off Winston, it seems, and was just entreating him to calm down instead. (It isn’t working.) No reason why Rian’s presence would be any more helpful; she retreats to the couch near the office entrance, the door finally swinging shut behind the last analyst to leave. 

Taylor sits in Rian’s chair, leaning in close to Winston and talking too quietly to hear from across the room. That doesn’t stop Rian from trying, and she’s straining so hard to pick out their words that it’s almost a surprise when Mafee sits down next to her. “Do you think he’s having a stroke or something?”

“I think if he were having a stroke, Taylor would have called 911 instead of handling it themself.” Rian shifts on the couch. Mafee’s sitting partly on her cushion and partly on the one next to it, and it’s throwing off her equilibrium. “You haven’t seen this before?”

“Never.”

Relative quiet settles over the office — the racket from outside is muffled again, and inside there’s only Taylor’s voice, low and calm, and Winston’s breathing, slowing.

Both of them get up, and Winston follows Taylor to their office. Through the glass, Rian watches him collapsing onto the couch just inside the door and Taylor pulling down the window shades. Seems like it’d be helpful if the glass walls on three sides also had shades. Maybe this would have been avoided if they were in a normal building.

Winston described it to her, once, the building that Taylor Mason Carbon had called home when it was named Taylor Mason Capital and not under Axe’s control. An old warehouse, refurbished, across the river in Dumbo. Exposed wood and stone and solid doors, low light and quiet, rather than Axe Cap’s glass and chrome and glaring fluorescents and soaring staircases that declare the future is here and now and it is insane wealth. He’d obviously missed it, and she can see why.

On the other side of the glass, Taylor sits down beside Winston, shoulder to shoulder, their backs to everyone else, and Rian aches.

“I think maybe we should leave,” Mafee says.

“We should.”

Rian pushes herself off the couch to return to her desk. The backtest will have to finish another day. She turns off her Bloomberg, scoops up her laptop and headphones, and doesn’t let her focus linger on Winston’s glasses, askew on his keyboard.

When she turns for the door, Taylor is there, and Rian almost jumps. It’s spooky how quietly they move sometimes. “Before you go, I need to speak with you. And Mafee.”

“Sure.”

A nod from Taylor summons Mafee from the couch. He comes over demanding to know, in a not-quite-whisper, “What the hell was that about?”

“Winston will be taking a few days off.”

“Because he gave himself a concussion and said ‘don’t fucking touch me’ when I tried to stop him?”

“In a case like that, I would suggest that you not fucking touch him.” Taylor shoves their hands in their pockets. “It likely exacerbated the situation.”

“There wasn’t a situation until he tried to tear his face off.”

“There kind of was,” Rian says. “Before you came in, he said he was tired and the noise from the construction was bothering him. And you leaving the door open probably didn’t help.”

“Exactly. Being subjected to noise at that volume for this long can be… overstimulating.” Rian steals a glance toward Winston, who’s now lying down on the couch. “Some people are more sensitive to that kind of disruption than others.”

“Winston? Sensitive?”

So the pot is calling the kettle callous now? “Unlike you.”

Mafee shrugs, hands falling open helplessly. “It’s not like I wanted him to suffer or something. I didn’t know he wasn’t just being a jackass about me leaving the door open.”

“Anyway,” Taylor says, curt. “Winston will be out next week. I’ll see what can be done about the renovations before he returns —”

“But he’s going to be fine, right?”

Surprised looks from both Mafee and Taylor land on her like laser sights. Damn. She sounded too concerned and she’s made it weird.

“Yes.” There’s no impatience in Taylor’s tone now, just sympathy. “He will be.”

[azure7539arts]

Beacon

Pairing: Q/James Bond (00Q)

Prompt(s): Blaze + Reverse a common trope

Warning: Angst, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, possession, idiots

Summary: One day, perhaps people will forget that a Flame Alchemist has ever existed, but the same can never be said of his subordinates. And today is not that day anyway.

Or: 00Q but Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood AU

A/N: this was supposed to be a drabble… And here we are. Again. If you find this intro familiar, thanks for reading Sword! If you have no idea what Sword is and just know my penchant for biting off more than I can chew, please refer to my previous post. Thanks!

Also, look, @solarmorrigan​, pyrokinesis! And @opalescentgold​, because you know the fandom and may appreciate some references. Damn, I have been dying for a FMA AU for. so. long. And now I’ve managed to somehow realize it into fruition. Jeez. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this!

-

Q couldn’t stand. The rush of adrenaline and sheer agony were urging his heart into overdrive, as if in beating a punishing pace right then, it would somehow make up for the gaping hole wedged in his side.

He bit back a sharp cry, alchemy flaring as bright as the pulsing pain invading his system. In what was either an eternity or no time at all, the wound was cauterized in a fit of smoke and sizzling burnt flesh, effectively staunching the intolerable amount of blood loss in a matter of seconds. His head spun.

(For as long as he’d lived, Q had wished for a lot of things. Right then, though, there was only one thought that kept repeating itself in the confines of his mind—)

Footsteps were approaching. Q scrambled to get to his feet with whatever remaining strength he had left and snapped his fingers again. Vicious ropes of flames sprang forth like spiteful cobras, eliciting an intense wall of fire that stood guard between him and his would-be captor.

One steel arm shot out from among the blaze and seized him by the throat.

Q choked.

The rest of that body stepped through quickly enough, like an emerging monster materializing from the depths of hellfire.

“Ultimate shield, remember?”

Q clawed uselessly at the still squeezing hand around his throat. “L–Lieutenant—” he wheezed, bitter reluctance warring with his struggling will to survive. “Bond—”

“Hm?” The steel receded, and Bond looked back at him now, head tilting to the side. “What, the old owner of this body?” He tutted, visibly frustrated despite the good humor gleaming in those too sharp eyes. “I told you: He’s gone—he’s become one with the stone. I’m the one in charge now, and the name is Greed.”

He grinned, and Q’s guts twisted at the sight, eyes watering from the lack of oxygen. (He could still hear the sound of Bond’s screams piercing all the way down the long corridors. The way his body had writhed and bucked in violent pain as it died and regenerated again and again, rejecting the philosopher’s stone that had been wrongfully injected into it. The way he had suddenly gone lax while Q had done his best to burn through the literal living wall of obstacles out of existence to get to him.)

He gathered all his strength to curl up his legs and kick Bond in the stomach.

No, not Bond. (But that was still his face.)

Not anymore. (Still his eyes, his voice, the low gravel of his laughter, chest-deep and oh so warm.)

Just Greed.

(What if he was still in there?)

The momentum of that kick thrusted Q out of the vice-like grip as he landed onto the ground with a dull thud. A twang of stabbing pain in his side knocked the air out of his lungs, distracting him from the stings of having steel claws dug long strips into either side of his throat.

(The thing was that: if he really was still in there…)

“Damn it,” Bond—Greed—hissed, staggering back before steadying himself with an annoyed huff of breath.

Like this, Q recognized that whoever was in front of him then, despite appearing and sounding exactly like him, didn’t have the firm stance that Bond had always maintained, edged into his bones from all the arduous training he’d put himself through.

The red Ouroboros tattoo on the back of his left hand seared into Q’s vision like a brand, as though sealing a death sentence.

(... If he really was still in there, Bond wouldn’t have willingly punched a hole straight through Q.)

Once the thought sank in, Q’s stomach plummeted.

“Could you stop being such a nuisance?” Greed clicked his tongue.

When he tried to reach out again, molten fire engulfed the room at another snap of the fingers.

And in the roaring flames, Q screamed.

-

He wakes with a startled gasp, cold sweat breaking all over.

It takes a moment, but the familiar ceiling of his office finally shifts into focus once more, and Q lets out a shuddered sigh. The documents he was looking at lie strewn across the littered desk surface right where he left them, and at this very moment, the phone rings, shattering the disquiet that has settled over his foggy mind.

He doesn’t notice the long overcoat that’s, apparently, been laid over his person while he slept until he reaches over to make a grab for the handset. It slides down from over his shoulders and pools in the middle of his lap with a rustling of fabric.

Q purses his lips and picks up, free hand settling over his now healed side to ease the aching phantom pain.

“Yes.”

“Brigadier General, sir,” the operator greets. “Major General Moneypenny is on the line for you.”

“Put her through.”

The line clicks after a final ‘yes, sir,’ and instantly, Eve’s voice filters through from the other side. “Why am I not surprised that you’re still there despite the atrocious hours.” It isn’t a question, and he smiles.

“Hypocrite,” he replies without heat, thumb smoothing along the raised ridges of those scars that he can still feel even through the thick layers of his uniform. “How has Briggs been welcoming you back?”

“Oh, you know, the usual warmth and sunshine,” she says, a joking lilt to her tone, and Q winces just from imagining the howling gales of a normal Briggs snowstorm that must be sweeping through the barracks even as they speak. “Now, enough of your diversion scheme. How are things on your side?”

Q thinks he’s too tired to do much of anything else and chooses the easy way out. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” Eve hums, entirely unconvinced, but doesn’t point out that his answer isn’t all that she asked. She knows him too well by now to press. “Sometimes, though, I do wonder if you should’ve just retired and gone to Rush Valley to do whatever it is that you automail enthusiasts do.”

The sentiment sends a soft snort through his nose. Not that he doesn’t wish to be a simple automail mechanic from time to time, especially when the price paid doesn’t seem equivalent to subsequent results, but in life, simple wants and actual needs are two different things.

They’ve all learnt this the hard way.

Even so, Q appreciates Eve looking out for him. Thousands of miles away, she’s still one of the few people who truly know and understand him. One of the few whom he trusts with his life. “Oh, definitely—once I find someone suitable to man the post for me, that is,” he muses, only half-serious. “No promises otherwise.”

There’s a knock on the door. “Sir.”

“Come in,” he calls and straightens up, popping the crick in his neck. “Gotta go now. Send my regards to Captain Tanner, would you? God knows the length that man’s gone to to keep up with you.”

Eve laughs, and he smiles, too, just as Bond walks in and closes the door behind him.

(There’s no Ouroboros tattoo on his hand, Q notes and subconsciously relaxes.)

(He shouldn’t feel bad for it—but he does anyway. Just the same as Bond, who didn’t mean to lose control long enough for Greed to hurt Q the way he did.

Emotions are fickle things.)

Eve has gone quiet for a long second as well, probably considering her words. In a way, Q feels he already knows what they are going to be, and grim satisfaction paints his tongue when what she says next is precisely just that, “How’s First Lieutenant Bond?”

How are things between you two, goes unsaid, but he hears it loud and clear nonetheless.

Bond is patiently waiting for him—hands tucked behind his back, perfect military posture, too proper and formal to bear—and Q squeezes the coat that remains in his lap.

(He misses the casual dynamics, easy tandem they used to have. One not laden with guilt and second-guessing.

It’s just one more hurdle for them to work through, he supposes.

Together.)

“We’re… getting there,” he replies, mildly surprised by his own honesty. “Talk to you later. Goodbye, Major General.”

He hangs up, and Bond has gotten closer, despite maintaining a minimum distance of three steps.

Q crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits, eyes expectant.

Eventually, Bond can’t but break the silence. “Was that Major General Moneypenny, sir?”

Q suppresses a sigh and nods. “Yes. Just one of her usual check-ins.” He pauses. “She did ask about you, about us, and how we were doing. And I said we were getting there—you heard.”

When Bond doesn’t reply, Q narrows his eyes, shrewd. “So, are we, Lieutenant? Getting there?” Most likely, he’s coming off much harsher than he originally planned, but Q doesn’t give a damn about that. Not right now. “You said you were following me to the top. Is this how you intend on doing it? By pretending to be a good little model soldier while keeping me at arm’s length?”

At this, Bond seems to further straighten, if that’s still physically possible. There’s steel in his eyes, but not the lost, abandoned kind given into avarice like that of Greed.

It’s all just sheer solid nerve and hardened integrity. It’s all Bond and so much more.

“I will do whatever it takes to protect and help you reach your goal—”

“Don’t you get it? You can’t protect me for damn if you’re always three steps away from me! That only means we’re no longer the team you seem to think we are.” Q’s mouth twists into a snarl. “Do you understand what I’m getting at, Bond?”

Bond turns his head away, staring out into the endless expanse of the night through the large panel of Q’s windows. Bond has never liked them, these ‘uselessly big windows that Central Command seems to prefer for their offices.’ Makes his job harder than it already is, he said.

Q tears himself away from the sudden memory.

“My only mission is to protect you,” Bond grinds out, hands that have fallen to his sides clenching into fists.

“And you have not failed.” Q’s voice has somewhat softened as he stands and clears his throat. “What happened, back then. It just means that we need to update our measures of counterattacks.”

They stare at each other now, mutual challenge shining in their eyes like a beacon to safety in the middle of a raging storm.

(“Q. I’m sorry.” Bond said, desperation ripping his voice raw and vulnerable. Q had never heard him like this. “I–I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“James, there’s nothing to forgive.”)

“We can discuss that tomorrow, then.” Bond bends down to pick up Q’s coat from the floor and gives it a few perfunctory pats before handing it back over, a tentative smirk on his lips. “Are you ready to go home for the night, sir?”

Q scoffs and takes it, not hiding his own smile. “Just about.”

It’s a long road ahead, but they’re getting there all right.

-

-

Bonus art:

[eruden-writes]

Carry On Redux

Series finale redone. Script format. 

I haven’t been part of the Supernatural fandom for a few years, but just hearing about that series finale chafed.

I literally wrote this in, like, 2 hours. Want better formatting? Find Carry On Redux by Eruden on AO3.

----

FADE IN

INTERIOR - LIVING ROOM 

 Sunlight shines through sheer curtains on a large window. It’s a comfortable room with a mixture of modern and rustic decor. Family pictures hang on the walls and litter just about every flat surface. Most photos depict Sam Winchester and a blonde woman; then the two with a dog; then with children, growing older. Holidays, graduation, school photos, marriage, grandbaby photos.

YOUNG MAN sits on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He wears jeans, a green flannel shirt, and a jacket. His hazel eyes wide and attention rapt.

 YOUNG MAN

So, what happened after that?

 The question is posited to OLD SAM, sitting across a coffee table, in a recliner. He’s still relatively fit, but his hair has greyed and he now sports a bushy beard, reminiscent of Bobby’s. Laugh lines and crows’ feet crease his face. 

 OLD SAM

Well, once Cas sacrificed himself, Dean grieved for awhile. 

He didn’t eat or drink. Wouldn’t even come out of his room for pie!

 At that, Sam chuckles, half-sad and half-amused. 

 INT - MEN OF WORDS BUNKER - LIBRARY 

 Sam sits at a table, eyes on a book and brow furrowed. Beside him, a notebook is open to scrawled notes. Not much can be made out, but words such as The Empty, Angel, Retrieve can be made out. Strewn around him are empty cans and food containers.

Dean enters, slapping his phone onto the table with a loud CLATTER. Sam jumps, eyes snapping to Dean’s face.

 DEAN 

Found us a job.

 Sam looks down at the phone. A news article is splayed on the front about a trucker, found dead with his heart ripped out. 

Sam looks back up at Dean with worry and consternation.

Dean returns the look with unwavering seriousness.

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover)

Just like that, we were back in the family business.

 MONTAGE - VARIOUS 

EXT - DARK FOREST

 Sam and Dean, back to back and holding guns. Trees ring around them, dark and shadowed.

Things seem to be moving between the trees.

One of the brothers shoots. An ungodly SHRIEK echoes. 

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover) 

Hunting things that went bump in the night.

 INT - ABANDONED PLACE

 Dean is stabbing stakes into vampires.

Sam aids a couple sobbing victims, wrapping wounds and ushering them out. 

Through boarded up windows, daylight can be seen streaming in. 

 OLD SAM

(voiceover)

Nothing as remarkable as stopping the apocalypse 

or reuniting God with his sister.

EXT - CEMETERY 

 Sam and Dean digging up a grave. They pour gasoline into the hole and toss in a match.

  OLD SAM

(voiceover) 

But we did whatever needed doing.

 INTERIOR - SUBURBAN LIVING ROOM 

 The Young Man is still sitting with rapt attention on the couch. 

 Old Sam sighs, shaking his head to and fro.

 OLD SAM

That went on for… oh, about five or so years.

 YOUNG MAN

And then?

 Old Sam sadly smiled. 

 OLD SAM

Then Dean died. 

 INT - PENTHOUSE SUITE

 Everything indicates wealth and luxury with rich mahogany wood and deep red palette. A plethora of worldly objects fill the abode: old looking vases, invaluable art, antique guns, a sword on a fireplace mantle. 

A nighttime cityscape can be seen through the large windows; the tops of other buildings can be seen from the vantage point, indicating a great height.

But there are indications of trouble. Broken pieces of furniture strewn about. One of the large windows is cracked. A broken aquarium, tropical fish flopping on the wet carpet. On a table, a corpse lays, stomach ripped out.

Sam and Dean each struggle against two black-eyed, sharp-toothed creatures that hiss and shriek. The creatures wear tattered clothing.

Dean gets thrown into a table, wood splintering and pricey knickknacks shattering. He’s dazed for a beat, before realizing his opponent is baring down on him, jaws inhumanly wide. His hand curls around a broken table leg, shoving it up and into the creature’s mouth. 

A sickening SQUISH is heard as the sharpened end of the legs skewers through the monster’s head. Black blood splashes across Dean and he gags. He quickly hefts the dead creature aside.

When he gets to his feet, he looks around wildly. 

The creature fighting Sam has gotten the upper hand. They cackle, before opening their jaws spread. Row after row of sharp teeth fill their maw. They jerk forward, intent on ripping out Sam’s throat. 

 DEAN

No!

 Suddenly, Dean is there, slamming into the creature’s side. The sword from the fireplace slicing through the creature’s chest.

Dean and the creature slam into the already cracked window. The sword pierces through the glass.

 SAM

Dean!

 The creature lies still. For half a beat, there’s silence. Then Dean’s shoulders ease and he laughs, half-turning to smile at his younger brother. 

Sam eases, too. Though he still looks worried.

Suddenly, the creature SHRIEKS, biting down on Dean’s shoulder. The window CREAKS. 

Dean and the creature fall through the shattered glass. Dean is still half-turned to Sam. They share a look. 

Sam rushes forward, hand outstretched.

 SAM 

No! 

 Time seems to slow. Dean smiles. The night sky is his backdrop.

 DEAN

It’s okay, Sammy.

 Sam stares, eyes wide. Almost disbelieving. 

The shatter window stands empty, framing the night and city. A distant IMPACT is heard, as glass continues to TINKLE.

 OLD SAM 

(voiceover)

In the end, he got what he wanted. A hunter’s death.

 INTERIOR - LIVING ROOM 

 QUIET settles over the room. The Young Man still leans on his knees, somber. 

 OLD SAM

Once Dean died, I did a few more hunts. 

Met Laura during one.

 Old Sam nods to a photo of himself and the blonde woman. 

 OLD SAM

Got a dog together. Had kids. Grew old. 

 He indicates more photos. One of himself and Laura with a dog. Multiple family photos. Photos of the family as they grew. 

 OLD SAM

Got just about everything I wanted. 

 Young Man tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. 

 YOUNG MAN

Just about?

Old Sam smiles fondly.

 OLD SAM

As much of an ass as he was, I still miss my brother. 

I wish he could’ve been here to share my happiness. 

To be my best man, an uncle, a great uncle.

 YOUNG MAN

I think he would’ve liked that. 

 Old Sam gives a sad laugh and looks to the large window. Through the curtains, an obscured view of his street is seen. It’s idyllic and peaceful. 

The front door’s lock CLICKS and the door is pushed open. LAURA enters, a bag in the crook of her arm. She’s older than her photos, with grey in her hair and laugh lines at the corners of her mouth.

 LAURA

Hey, hon. Mary couldn’t stay 

and visit, but she sends her love.

 She walks from the door to the adjoining dining room, crossing the living room right in front of Sam.

 INT - DINING ROOM 

 Laura puts her shopping bag and purse on the dining room table. 

 LAURA

While I was out, I ran into Debbie. She picked up

 some antique thingamajig and thinks it’s haunted.

 She turns to face the living room.

 LAURA

If you don’t mind, do you think you can-

 The easy smile on her face falters. 

 LAURA

Sam?

 She takes a step forward.

 INTERIOR -  LIVING ROOM 

 Laura traverses into the living room. Sam sits in his chair, head bowed and eyes closed. A photo album sits in his lap. Across the room from him, television QUIETLY PLAYS. The Young Man is nowhere to be seen.

 LAURA

Honey?

 She reaches a hand out to his.

Her hand slaps over her lips with a gasp. Her eyes are wide and teary.

Slightly translucent, Old Sam appears beside her. He tucks her hair behind her ear and whispers quietly in her ear. Too quiet to be heard. Then, he presses his lips to her cheek.

Laura gasps, turning to face her dead husband. Her hand hovers on her cheek, where his lips touched her. Stunned, blinking back tears, Laura seems to know he’s there. 

 LAURA

(whispers)

Love you, too. 

 EXT - SAM’S HOME

 Old Sam and the Young Man stand on the sidewalk, in front of Sam’s home. The sun shines down, the street is quiet. In the distance, AMBULANCE SIRENS can be heard. 

 OLD SAM 

(staring at the house)

Thank you for waiting. 

 The Young Man scuffs his shoes on the sidewalk, hands in his jacket pockets.

 YOUNG MAN

No worries. Got to honor my baby brother’s last wish, right?

 Sam’s attention suddenly snaps to the Young Man. Sam is no longer old.

In the Young Man’s place, Dean stands. He wears similar clothing as the Young Man and a halfcocked smile. 

 SAM

(stunned)

Dean? But… how?

 DEAN

Let’s say Death did me a solid, 

everything considered.

 SAM

I guess you two do have a past.

 Dean laughs and turns toward the street. The Impala is there, shiny and pristine. Dean motions for Sam to follow him with a jerk of his head. 

Behind Sam, the ambulance has arrived. 

 DEAN

I’ll tell you all about it along the way. 

 Sam starts forward as Dean opens the driver side door. In the background, a stretcher is being rolled out from his home, a white sheet around the body.

 SAM

Along the way?

 Sam skirts around the car and opens the passenger side door, settling in. 

 INT - THE IMPALA

 Sam briefly looks around. Inside, Baby looks as it always has. Nothing out of place, nothing rotting. 

Sam reaches for his seat belt.

 CAS

Good to see you, Sam. 

 Sam startles, turning to find the angel sitting in the back seat. 

 SAM

(shocked)

Cas? I thought you were in The Empty. Like forever.

 The angel gives a slight smile and nod.

Dean pats Cas on the hand, giving the angel an exasperated look. As if to say ‘you were supposed to let me handle this.’

Cas dips his head in apology.

Sam turns to Dean, eyebrows raised. He obviously has questions.

 DEAN

(sheepish grin)

I’ll tell you about that on the way, too. 

 Dean turns a key in the ignition, the engine purrs to life. He shifts into gear as they pull away from Sam’s home, where a curious crowd has gathered.

 DEAN

But right now, we’ve got hunting to do. 

 SAM

You can’t be serious. 

 The two brothers share a look. Sam obviously displeased and Dean straight-faced. 

Dean can’t hold the look for long and his expression melts into a smile. He turns his eyes to the road.

 DEAN

Nah, I’m pulling your leg. We got some friends waiting for us.

 SAM

Really? Who?

 DEAN

Ah, y’know, Bobby, Jack, Kevin, Charlie, Adam.

Some others. Heard Jess is gonna be there, too. 

 That causes Sam to sit up straighter.

 SAM

Jess? (eyebrows raise) Like,  my Jess? 

 DEAN

So she says. 

 Sam sits back in his chair, staring ahead. Conflicted expressions play across his face.

He stares outside his window. Outside, the road passes, but a white mist - or perhaps clouds - is slowly consuming the view. 

Dean glances at Sam, slightly concerned.

 DEAN

You okay, Sammy? 

 SAM Yeah. I just… This is a lot to take in. 

 DEAN

(laughs)

Yeah? Well, wait til you hear what I’ve been up to,

Mr. Two-And-A-Half-Kids-And-A-Picket-Fence.

 Sam turns to Dean, an amused smile on his lips. 

 SAM

Is this going to be a long story?

 DEAN

Nah. Not too long. If it was a show, 

I’d say… oh… about fifteen seasons. 

 Sam groans.

 EXT - THE IMPALA

 The Impala glides over a road, lined with a forest. The cloud-mist has just about obscured everything. 

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

Hey, I listened to your boring ass life story!

 SAM 

(offscreen)

Which reminds me, why did you even disguise yourself?

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

I had my reasons. 

 CAS 

(offscreen)

He wanted to hear what you said about him and if you missed him.

 SAM 

(offscreen)

Seriously, Dean?

 DEAN 

(offscreen)

Do you want to hear how I saved Cas from The Empty or not?

 RADIO STATIC buzzes on. “Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas” overtakes the static. 

 DEAN

(offscreen)

Oh, come on! 

 CUT TO SUPERNATURAL END CARD

[vannahfanfics]

Quiet Strength

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo, Ochako Uraraka

Greetings, all~! Here is my next entry for the @bnhabookclub​’s Bingo Event, for the prompt “First Aid”! Kacchako stans, come get y’all food! \^u^/

Thundering howls of laughter rumbled from Katsuki’s throat as his gauntleted fist crashed through the solid boulder, sending pebbles and baseball-sized rocks sailing in every direction. Steam billowed from the magma seeping from the ultra-hot stone he had essentially liquified with the power of his explosion; the wispy white smoke kissed his sweaty, flushed face and tickled his tousled blonde locks before disappearing into the air. He yanked his fist from the crumbled rock, flexing his fingers experimentally, and hissed at the stinging pain that bloomed across his palm.

What had been the flame-retardant leather devised by the Support Course was now nothing more than a few tattered scraps barely clinging together. Dammit. Now I’ll have to submit for an upgrade. Who knows how long that crap’ll take? He scowled and shook his hand in the air. The bright pink skin wailed at the contact with the rushing wind, sending tendrils of fiery pain jolting up his arm and even into the junction of his shoulder. Katsuki ignored the sharp tingle, stepping over the destroyed piles of rocks to pick his way back down the slope to the floor of the gym.

“Wow, Bakugo!” Eijirou’s ruby eyes glittered in admiration. “You made short work of those boulders! Even in Unbreakable Mode, it took me a few hits!”

“Of course I did, dumbass,” Katsuki snorted and snatched his water bottle from the floor. He winced; in his lack of thought, he had grabbed the plastic container with his dominant hand- the burned one. The condensation littering the cold surface seeped into the singed flesh, making the raw meat there scream in agony. Katsuki only clenched his teeth and sucked down the water, then tossed the now-empty bottle into the garbage can in the corner.

“All right. You all have been at it for two hours,” Mr. Aizawa frowned while glancing at the screen of his smartphone. The gym echoed with exhausted gasps and reeked with the stench of exertion. “You’re done for the day.” Katsuki flexed his hand again, scowling as the pain rocketed through his nerves once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Fuck!” Katsuki exclaimed as the water cascaded down onto his wounded palm. He hadn’t anticipated the burn would be so severe. The skin over his fingers and palm bubbled up in several blisters, already filled with fluid though it hadn’t been thirty minutes. The water, though only lukewarm, felt like lava streaming over the injured skin. Katsuki fumbled to wash his body and hair with his non-dominant hand, keeping the burning flesh well away from the shower’s thundering stream. He didn’t even use it to towel himself dry.

“God damn son of a bitch,” he grumbled under his breath as he clumsily fumbled into his sweatpants and a tee-shirt. Why couldn’t it have been his other hand? “Fuckfuckfuck!” he cried as he lost his balance and began hopping around on one foot, his leg half-caught in the thick fabric of the sweats. An angry roar burst from his throat as he slipped in a small puddle of water and fell hard right on his rump. His tailbone wailed protest, spasming the muscles in his lower back, and he unleashed every curse in the dictionary and then some as he writhed on the damp bathroom floor. The skin of his palm pulsed with its own heartbeat, sending fireworks of pain up his arm with every drum. “Fuck me.”

Somehow, he managed to get his clothes on, finally. However, now on top of the burn, his lower back was aching something terrible. He limped into the common room, ignoring the content chattering of his classmates on the sofas to instead hobble into the kitchen. He winced at the stretch as he reached up to begin rifling through cabinets for painkillers and burn cream. He was too invested in his search to see Ochako meander into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.

“Oh, Katsuki!”

“Jesus Christ-! Fuck, shit, fuck, damn it, ahh!” he cursed as he jumped and slammed his burned palm on the underside of the counter. Holding his wrist, he leaned over the granite and wheezed out an exaggerated whine. “What?!” he snarled as the girl scampered over to him.

“Your hand! How did you get such a terrible burn?!” Katsuki ignored the question. Ochako’s brown eyebrows knitted together as she inspected the bubbly flesh of his palm and the clear, sticky liquid oozing from the blister that had just burst. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her simpering piteous expression.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that. I’m fine,” he huffed. He glanced into the cabinet and found that he had been groping around the Silvadene cream the entire time. With a snort, he plucked it from the cabinet and struggled to open it one-handed.

“L-let me!” Ochako insisted and snatched the short, squat bottle of medicine from him. Katsuki turned around to rest his back against the counter, watching with critical red eyes as she quickly removed the lid.

“I didn’t ask for your help, Uraraka.”

“No, you didn’t, but you’re getting it anyway,” she responded coolly, making the corner of his mouth twitch. She slathered a healthy chunk of the goopy liquid onto her first two fingers before gesturing with her chin. “Open up your hand and spread out your fingers.” Though he loathed the fact that he required aid, refusing her now wasn’t worth the energy. Silently, he did as bid. His shoulders twinged with the flexion of his burned fingers. Ochako slopped the bright white cream onto the middle of his palm, and he melted into the countertop with a shaky exhale.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he breathed. Ochako smiled sweetly and began spreading the paste across his palm and up onto the undersides of his fingers. A cooling numb spread over the inflamed cells, quieting the piercing pain that had been pulsing in his hand since training had ended. He watched her careful motions with lidded eyes.

“You should be careful, you know,” she chastised him gently. “Even you have your limits. I know you want to get stronger, but nothing will come of pushing yourself to the point that it’s destructive.” Katsuki clicked his teeth at her, cocking his head to the side in a vain gesture. Ochako only smiled and applied a second layer of burn cream to his hand.

“You’re one to talk, Cheeks. What was that whole business with tryin’ to drop the stadium on my head, ah?” The Sports Festival had been months ago, but Katsuki still remembered their fight vividly. The way her body wobbled and sagged to the side, how she struggled with trembling arms to even bear her own weight, the glaze in her chestnut eyes as she struggled to keep her consciousness… His eyelashes fluttered to banish the illusion of the scene as she spoke.

“I have the authority to speak on it because I’ve been there,” she sighed. She stopped her ministrations to hold Katsuki’s hand up with both her own, Silvadene-coated fingertips smearing the medicine over the top of his hand. “Sometimes… everyone else just seems so great in comparison that it feels like I’ll never catch up. In that fight, I was so desperate to prove that I belong here… but it was destructive. I will grow stronger, but with time and effort, not with leaps and bounds born from destroying my body.” Katsuki’s eyes widened as he looked at her. The truth rang hollowly in him. Begrudged as he was to admit it, she was totally right. She smiled warmly up at him and then flicked him in the forehead.

“Hey,” he warned, and she giggled cutely.

“I don’t need another Deku on my hands! It’s bad enough that he’s broken half the bones in his body before the age of sixteen!” She exhaled deeply and retrieved a swathe of bandages. She unpinned the tan, thick fabric, then gently began rolling it around the palm of his hand. “You’ll get stronger, and I will too. We just both need time.” Katsuki frowned and looked away from her, debating whether or not to acknowledge the fact that she was right out loud.

“… All right, all right, I get your point,” Katsuki admitted after several seconds of silence. Ochako pinned the bandages with a small safety clasp and lowered her hands. The fabric was cumbersome around his hand and wrist, and he couldn’t even close his fist entirely. Still, the pain had been reduced to a dull ache that he could easily ignore with distraction. “Hey,” he said as she turned to retrieve her glass of milk, which still lay untouched on the countertop. When she looked back at him with an inquiring look, he blushed and pawed at his gym shorts, not really sure why he had stopped her.

“I, ugh… Thanks,” Katsuki fumbled and raised his bandaged hand. Ochako blinked at him, taking a moment to realize his gesture of gratitude, before smiling sweetly. Before she could respond, he abruptly grabbed her by the head and pulled her into his chest. She squeaked his name with her hands flapping about, not sure where she should place them.

“Hey,” he said softly. Ochako relaxed, and her hands drifted down to rest on his biceps. “You be careful, too. You think I’m stupid? I see you walking home every day wobbling like a drunk, and you threw up four fucking times at training today.” He felt heat bloom across his pectorals as her face heated up. He dropped his mouth against her hair, inhaling her scent of vanilla shampoo. “You be careful, too, dumbass. Who else is gonna take care of me when I go too far?”

“Hehe, okay,” she acknowledged with an eager nod. She pulled away from Katsuki to beam up at him with those big brown eyes that made his heart melt. Snorting at his sappiness, he lightly pushed her away, but the gesture was laced with affection. “Drink your milk, Cheeks. I’m goin’ to bed.”

“Aw! But we’re playing charades tonight!”

“Now I’m definitely goin’ to bed.” As he whirled on his heel, Ochako scampered up to hug his arm and bat her eyelashes pleadingly at him. Katsuki grimaced, but she grinned victoriously as a rosy haze spread over his cheeks.

“Please, Bakugo? Just a few rounds! You should see Kaminari’s impression of a crab; it’s too funny!”

“Agh, whatever, as long as you stop climbin’ all over me like a spider monkey!” he cried and shook his arm emphatically. She stubbornly clung to him like glue, cackling mischievously. “Come on! Let go!” he whined and pushed on her head. Finally, she relented, releasing him from her grip. “Bah, what am I going to do with you?” he growled and ran a hand through his ash-blond hair.

“Aw, Bakugo, don’t pretend you don’t like me!” she said coyly and stuck out her tongue. She gasped in dismay when he snatched up her glass of milk and drained it to the last drop. “Hey! That was mine!” she pouted and snatched the empty glass from him. Katsuki sneered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glittering playfully.

“That’s what you get for messin’ with me, Cheeks.”

“Ya big meanie!” she snorted, then smiled and nudged him in the ribs. She retrieved the gallon jug from the refrigerator and poured herself another, then skipped to the entryway. “Come on, let’s go!” she insisted and tugged the band of his watch. He allowed her to pull him along by jerking on the device. She smiled radiantly when they entered the common room, greeting their classmates and excitedly scampering over to the sofas to begin the game of charades. Bakugo leaned against the back of the couch, watching her with a tiny smile.

In his mind, Ochako really didn’t need to get stronger. She was plenty strong, but it was not the strength of a physical kind. It was a quiet strength of care and passion. Plenty strong for a reckless dumbass like me, he smirked in amusement. As she clapped happily to Eijirou’s comical rendition of a koala, she caught his eye and smiled warmly.

Plenty strong. Nothin’ frail about her.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List:  @sadistiks​ @wesparklebitch​ @deliathedork​ @simplybakugou​

[gunsmoke-snakeoil]

At the Rivers Edge- Pt 2

Arthur X Female!Reader

Part 1 | Part 3

Arthur comes into camp with a familiar dark air about him that leaves you hurting in his stead. Being one of the few who know him well enough to read his body language, you do everything to keep his mind off of the one and only Mary Linton

I want to say a huge huge thank you to @lauramb7 and all of those who encouraged me to continue this story! I honestly had no idea people would be this interested in my ideas and honestly it makes me get all choked up! I got very ambitious, and can’t possibly fit the rest of this in a second part. So there will be one more after this! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it! Stay safe and healthy! ~K

It had been a few months since your conversation at the river with Arthur. And since then, things had changed drastically. You moved twice, slowly seeping so far east it made your stomach burn. You had lost some people along the way, giving the camp dark clouds and a heavy weight weighing against your sore heart. The new camp, you hated. It was too hot, muggy, and swampy. The only upside was the large house with vines climbing up its chipped white walls.

You were not the only one who hated this new spot. Arthur didn’t even have to say it. You just knew by one hunting trip the two of you took. He had taken a step on what he had thought was solid ground, and ended up sinking nearly a foot and a half deep in dark thick muck. He groaned, his blue eyes firing in frustration as he wildly tugged his legs trying to pry them free from the jaws of the swamps. It took you the better half of an hour to finally tug him free, of course your laughter seizing your muscles making it nearly impossible to grow the strength. You yourself had slipped when you gave one hard tug, sending you sliding towards him on your ass. You cussed something ugly forcing him into a fit of laughter as you picked yourself up. Eventually he had opt to leave his boots that were suctioned off his feet and stuck there for an eternity.

The worst part in your opinion was the stench of the muck clinging to his pants, feet and your bottom. You’d hoped you’d get use to it, but every time he moved or you sat you got the strongest whiff making your stomach curdle.

When the sun had finally sunk and the moon came out, the swamp grew foggy and dark with shadows creeping around almost every tree. Every sound made you jump, especially the loud hissing from the alligators. You had made the grave mistake admitting your fear of someone or something coming out and grabbing you. Arthur laughed when you jerked at a swamp bird screeching in the distance. And when you had finally found the stillness to sleep, he had found a branch and some leaves and brushed them against your shoulder and arms. You screamed so loud, you were sure the entirety of Saint Denis heard your cry. You had never ripped something so quickly from someones hand, the willingness to sleep finally left you completely as you playfully beat him with the sticks. “I ought to shoot you dead Arthur Morgan!” You yelled, as he doubled back from laughter, grabbing your wrists to stop you.

After the sleepless night, you both vowed to never hunt in the swamps again, and you’d both take a three day trip out west where you knew you thrived.

Last night’s celebration hung heavy over your head as you blinked the slumber from your eyes. The alcohol you consumed left your skull with a dull throb, the sun stinging your eyes. You groaned, wishing to shoot the sun out of the sky. You were glad, you admitted; glad that Jack was back and safe with his mama and papa. That boy was a light in this dark camp, making everything you do, worth it. You prayed that he’d remain that sweet positive boy even when the clouds seemed to only darken.

You were pacing camp when Pearson called you over to his food wagon. It was too hot, too hot and muggy to walk the ten feet towards him. The air was so thick you were afraid of inhaling to deeply and choking.  You wished desperately to find the coolest spring in Lemoyne with no reptiles in sight to dive head first in. You slunk towards him leaning back on his work table. He shuffled in his deer hide bag and pulled out a folded paper tore and yellowing at the edges.

You took it, feeling the dry paper beneath your calloused fingertips. “Could you go pick these up at the store? They are already ordered they just need to be picked up.“  Flipping the page open your eyes looked over the list and nodded. "And can you stop by the post office? It should be on the way.” You slipped the paper into you satchel, while looking up at him, his shining bald head glistening in the early morning sunrise.

“Sure thing Mr. Pearson. Consider it done.” You hummed pushing off the table.

“Excellent! The wagon is over there… I haven’t set up the horses yet—” you dismissed his thought with a smile.

“I got it, don’t worry.” He returned your smile with a sheepish one as you turned and started towards the horses. You were met with many morning greetings from everyone as you crossed the bridge. You tossed the list and satchel up on the seat of the wagon. Inhaling deeply, you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants, searching for the two work horses. Big Blue, a Raven black Shire stood grazing by Arthur who put his saddle on his horse. You smiled, watching the gentle praises he gave his stallion, while straightening the seat to fit on the animal’s back. You moved passed him towards Blue, getting his halter.

“Mornin’ (Y/N).” Arthur greeted, tightening the strap at his horses abdomen. He rose his head to meet your eyes as you yawned and waved.

“Mornin’” you grinned swallowing a second yawn that wished to bubble after. Your gentle hands greeted Blue, and his nose pressed to your chin. “Mornin’ Blue.” You breathed, running a hand through his braided mane. He whinnied as you began to put on the halter.

“Taking the wagon out?” Arthur asked as you gently tightened a strap on Blue’s headgear. 

“Pearson has a nice long list for me.” You grinned, clicking your tongue and leading the large horse towards the wagon. You lined him up before taking the Halter off and replacing it with a Bridle. Blue sneezed in your face as you fastened the bit in his mouth. You groaned loudly wiping your face on your shoulder. Arthur laughed while lugging over the harnesses for the horses. “Hate when that happens.” You groaned wiping your face again as Arthur began strapping Blue into his harness and attach him to the wagon.

“At least your mouth wasn’t open.”

“Oh no, it was.” You then walked over to Dixie who was grazing on the opposite side of where Blue was. Arthur groaned and praised Blue for his witty instinctual act. You did the same as you did with Blue, using the halter to guide the large brown Shire to the wagon. You made sure to spit your tongue out at Arthur while putting the Bridle on Dixie. Arthur chuckled, giving you a nudge while fastening the harness on Dixie.

With the two of you working, the wagon was set up in no time. Arthur stood back, hands on his gun belt admiring the webbing of leather straps. “The errand girl. I like that look on you.” He teased as you gave the horses a quick pat.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You rolled your eyes while climbing up the wagon and plopping on the creaky wooden seat. Arthur gave Dixie a pat before walking over with the reigns. He leaned forward on the step presenting them to you.

“Would be interesting seeing you in a dress.” He smirked as you took the leather from him and placed them in your lap.

“It’d be a cold day in hell Morgan. Hey,” you stepped your steel plated boot on the foot guard while bending down to get a good look at him. “maybe you oughta take Micah on your next hunting trip. Heard the pair of you are two peas in a pod.”

That smirk faltered enough to make you giggle. He groaned and took a step back from the wagon. “get outta here you crazy woman.” He motioned you towards the opening in the trees. The smile grew wider as you snapped the reigns prompting Blue and Dixie forward. You gave him a gentle wave as you started down the path. He couldn’t even try to mask the smile he had, watching as you turned down the lane and disappear behind the trees.

Navigating through Saint Denis proved to be more challenging then you would’ve liked. You had already struggled moving through on horseback now you had a long and wide wagon. The city was bustling, people crossing without looking and the roads filled with carriages and other modes of transportation. The buildings made you feel cramped, the pillars of dark smoke made the air smell. You felt like a bird plucked from the wild and shoved into a dark, small cage. Once you made it to the road lining the Lannahechee River, you felt more comfortable. The road was wider, and less people traveled across.

You pulled the wagon to the side of the road when it neared the post office and hopped off. When you approached the window you lightly rapped your fingertips on the wooden sill as the man made his way to your side. “Any mail for Tacticus Kilgore?” His brows knotted in a strange type of confusion as he sifted through cabinets.

“Why yes there is.” He tugged a soft white envelope from the many in the cabinet. He flipped it over and walked it to you presenting the name. “Is this right?” He asked. You took the soft paper, seeing the familiar sloppy cursive writing. Your heart burned as you flipped it over to peer at the red wax seal.

“Yeah, that’s right. Thank you.” You half grinned turning to take it back to the wagon. You pulled yourself up and took the reigns in one hand. Again you peered at the handwriting on the envelope. You knew it as Mary’s. Wrongfully you had peered at her writing before when Arthur had been out. It was long ago now but the writing surely hadn’t changed. Part of you wanted to tear it in five hundred pieces and watch it blow away in the wind. But the other knew Arthur still respected and cared for her. You carefully slid the letter into you satchel and moved down the road to the grocer.

You hardly remember the rest of the trip. Partly because of the letter, and the other was knowing that Arthur was undoubtedly going to get hurt again. You wondered if he listened to you and took your words to heart, or maybe it went into one ear and out the other. Either way, the feeling of setting that pretty white envelope on his desk sent a tight jolt to your limbs. A lump grew heavy in your throat imagining him finding it and reading closely to the paper. You bit your lip hard, forcing your gaze away from the handwriting. Then you saw her picture. Placed high up, the frame was worn yet the woman captured inside was young and beautiful. You picked it up, running fingertips against the pane. You wanted to smack her, yell at her, enough enough! What else could she possibly take, didn’t she have enough? You were beginning to make yourself tear up.

You sat her picture back quickly blinking away the tears. You decided the rest of the day would be best spent alone trying to keep yourself from combustion.

The next morning Javier had been talking to you about a fishing spot he discovered. You half listened, watching as Arthur walked to the horses. You noticed he changed shirts and had put on a clean vest. Sipping your coffee, you nodded at Javier and smiled pretending the best you could that you were fully listening. Arthur climbed onto his horse glancing back at the camp, meeting your gaze for a moment. You gave him a small wave, your fingers shaking just a tad as he tipped his hat and disappeared down the lane.

Javier invited you on a fishing trip to the spot he had mentioned. You nodded in response, giving him a smile. “Sounds good to me.”

You couldn’t concentrate, not for a single moment. You mindlessly baited your hook, using the crickets that Javier had offered you. You pricked your finger accidentally, yielding a sharp hiss in response. You wiped the small bead of blood on your jeans before casting the line into the small pond.

“It’s nice to get out.” Javier smiled as he casted his own bobber into the fishing hole.

“I agree,” you smiled reeling the line in just a tad so it had enough tension to feel a bite.  “This is a really nice spot. And gator free."  Javier shifted in his spot humming in agreement.

"I thought so too. Bass are pretty big here.” Your line jerked, and you tugged right back before pulling hard and reeling. “First cast and already a fish, Arthur was right, you’re one hell of a fisherman.”

You rolled your eyes as you pulled the fish in and grabbed it by it’s bottom lip. “Arthur says that because he has seen me catch at least a dozen trees and bushes.” You tugged the hook from it’s mouth and held it up.

“Well from where I’m standing, you are doing far better then I am.” Javier flicked the tip of his pole making the bobber dance.

“Give it time, one of us will be up in a tree trying to untangle my line from some branches.” You smiled letting the large mouth back into the water. The fish suspended for a moment, it’s gills puffing out and closing. In a blink of an eye, it disappeared into the depths flashing the sparkle of it’s scales. You rinsed your fingers in the water and smiled at the memory; remembering Arthur holding a branch down while your 21 year old self tried to free your river lure. You blamed him while laughing at your awful cast, the thin line tangled through out the many leaves and caught in the bark. So much for competing for the farthest cast. He always brought it up when ever you went fishing. Standing, you fumbled through the bait bag, pulling another cricket to stab onto the hook.

You wished, as you grabbed the line near the reel with your finger, that Arthur was here. You drew back the pole and let the line go as you swung forward sending the hook and bobber to the center of the pond. The bobber danced in the ripples for a moment before settling down again. You looked to the tree canopy. You wished he wasn’t where he was. You wished you could drop your pole in the water and take off on Zeus to find him. You wanted to pull him away from Mary and treat him just as he deserved to be treated. You wanted to show her just how much he meant to you. You wanted to kiss him right in front of her, tell him how much you love him and that you wouldn’t want anyone else in this world. You wanted him to give her up.

But you knew he was out there, somewhere getting hurt all over again. And nothing you did could stop it.

“(Y/N)?” Javier called, catching your attention. Your gaze shot to him, watching as he reeled in his bobber. “you feeling okay today? You have been acting a little funny.”

“Well maybe that’s just who I am,” you shrugged with a smirk watching the afternoon sun glisten on the rippling water. Javier baited his hook and tossed it out again, giving you a less then satisfied look. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.” You sighed giving your bobber a little tug, letting it dance for a moment.

“I see.” Javier looked away from you. “Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.”

You smiled feeling gratitude at his gesture. As much as you’d love to unload all your feelings, you refrained, knowing you would put Arthur out there as well. “Thanks Javier.”

Upon your request, the two of you decided to stay out until late afternoon. Javier happily took your mind off of Arthur and Mary, offering you crazy bar stories and tales of his past. You left the fishing hole with a dozen bass for that evening’s dinner. Pearson was excited for the change of pace, and you had helped him fillet them. As he cooked, you snuck seasonings into the stew making Jack giggle when you made faces. When the stew was completed, you watched as everyone took servings. The ladies thanked Pearson and winked at you as they passed. You saw just about every face except for Arthur’s.

For a moment you thought he was still out. But that thought was chopped  the moment you noticed his horse hitched beside yours. You sighed deeply, scooping some of the food into a bowl. Carefully you carried it into the house and climbed the stairs. Faint light bled from his room, confirming his location. You approached the door that was open just a crack. With a single knuckle you knocked, the sound was faint and you prayed that he heard you. You felt oddly shaky when he hummed a response. You opened the door with your foot and stepped in. He sat on his bed, his journal rested in his lap. “Hey,” you stepped in further and showed him the stew. “Didn’t see you get any, and wanted to make sure you ate.”

He grinned and dropped the journal to the side by his satchel. “Well that’s mighty kind of you Miss (Y/N),” you carefully deposited the bowl in his hands. He motioned you to sit on the chair by the desk while He blew on the hot food before fishing it into his mouth.“That’s different.” He hummed.

“Yeah, it’s fish.” You sat down. “Believe it or not Javier and I caught them today. Despite your prior beliefs, I’m pretty damn good.”

Arthur smirked and began digging in the stew. “I don’t see any tree leaves or branches in here.. what the hell did you contribute?”

“You are such an ass. I actually caught half of them, you can ask Javier.” You giggled, while looking around at his room. Arthur was different. You couldn’t tell how, but that air he got when he saw Mary wasn’t with him. His eyes were happy, glistening and that smile from before was on his lips. Maybe he didn’t see her? You glanced around at the desk, the letter you sat there was gone.

Before you could get any deeper, Arthur drew your attention back to him, “there’s no way in hell Pearson did this on his own.”

“Oh hell no, I helped.” You shook your head. “It would’ve probably come to life and eat us if he did that on his own.”

Arthur nearly choked on his food at your comment making you laugh.  You spent the rest of the evening talking about your trip with Javier, and Arthur was quick to jump to the many days you went with him. After a while, you decided to turn in. He thanked you again for giving him company. You took his bowl and spoon and bid each other a good night.

As you turned to leave, you noticed the picture of Mary that had sat at his bedside for years had been laid face down.