#alright i admit it's been more than a few days but in my defense i didn't initially anticipate giffing this video

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

previous | story masterlist | next

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore.  

You let out a quiet sigh and lean your head further back. As always, Xavier is holding you close while he drinks your blood. You can feel his lips gently sucking on the surface of your skin, and there’s the dull discomfort of his fangs being lodged in your neck, but the pain is unmistakably less intense than before. You’re not sure if it’s because you’re starting to become a bit more accustomed to this whole thing, or if Xavier really is making an effort to be as gentle as possible, but either way, it’s far more manageable now. 

He even pulls away from time to time, just to make sure that you’re doing alright.  

“Still okay?” he affirms.  

You nod. “I’m fine, thank you. You can keep going until you’ve taken the usual amount.”  

Xavier pauses for a moment, and he doesn’t smile, not quite, but there’s a subtle warmth that fills his gaze, and for some reason, it puts you at ease.  

Yeah. This is what vampires should be like. That asshole Felix could really take a page out of Xavier’s book.  

You sit there for a while longer, waiting for Xavier to be done. You haven’t been feeling too lightheaded these days, so you figure the supplements you’ve been taking must have helped somewhat. So long as you don’t run into any other clients like Felix, who drink far more blood than the allotted amount, you’ll probably be fine.  

Xavier eventually pulls back for good, making sure to wipe his blood-stained lips with a napkin. You can appreciate how put-together he is, because seeing someone with your blood smeared across their face will never be a pretty sight. Although you suppose that’s another thing you’re slowly getting used to.  

“How are you feeling?” Xavier asks.  

“I’m good,” you reassure. “Don’t worry. If something was off, or if I was feeling unwell, I would make sure to let you know. I’m not reckless with my health.”  

Ha. Okay, that was a bit of a lie, considering you just landed yourself in the hospital not long ago, but in your defense, that wasn’t entirely your fault.  

Xavier seems relieved to know that you’re feeling alright, and normally, this is the part where he would get up to leave, but today, he opts to stay seated for longer.  

After a few moments of silent deliberation, he works up the nerve to ask:  

“Do you have any other clients besides me?”  

The question catches you off guard. For one thing, he doesn’t normally engage you in conversation, other than occasionally checking in to make sure you’re not feeling sick. Unless you’re mistaken, it’s the first time he’s asked you anything remotely resembling a personal question, even if it was simple intrigue on his part.  

Before you can respond, Xavier scrunches his brows together. “Um. Actually, forget what I just said. You don’t need to answer that. Now that I’ve stopped to think about it, it’s not really any of my business, and it was perhaps a bit inappropriate to ask.”  

He looks rather flustered all of a sudden, which amuses you, because he’s normally stoic and poised—almost to a fault.  

Well. In any case, you suppose you have nothing to hide.  

“I did have another client,” you admit. “But I had to drop him because he was making me uncomfortable. So, right now, you’re the only one I’m meeting with.”  

Xavier frowns. “I’m sorry to hear that. This arrangement only works if the client and donor respect one another, so it’s unfortunate that you had to have such an unpleasant experience.” After a brief pause, his eyes widen in concern. “I’m... not making you feel the same way, am I? Because if so, I urge you to be honest with me. The last thing I want is to upset you.”  

“That isn’t the case at all,” you assure him. “I enjoy meeting with you, Xavier. You’ve even gone to the trouble to make sure it doesn’t hurt me so much anymore, and I really appreciate it.”  

Unless you’re imagining it, he looks a bit pleased all of a sudden. Then again, it’s a bit hard to tell with him, since his expression reverts to a neutral state almost immediately.  

With your session having come to an end, he finally stands up to leave, but once again, he doesn’t walk out of the room right away.  

Instead, he glances back at you, looking a touch hesitant.  

“Have... a nice day,” he eventually settles upon. It comes out sounding a bit awkward, because quite frankly, he’s a bit awkward, but it’s the thought that counts, and you can’t help but smile. 

“Thanks!” you beam. “I hope you have a nice day as well.”  

This time, he actually leaves, swapping places with the doctor that comes in to examine you after every session. The doctor pulls the door shut to conduct the examination in private, but right before it closes, Xavier steals one last glance your way.  

You don’t see it, but there’s a smile on his lips. 

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me, [Name]! I’m so glad we finally have the chance to hang out like this.”  

You’re walking down the street with Caleb, having just finished washing dishes for several hours straight. He invited you to go someplace with him after your shifts were over, and usually, you’re so tired that you head straight home, or you book it to your other part-time job depending on what your schedule’s like, but for once, you finally have some free time.  

You wouldn’t normally have taken him up on his offer. Quite frankly, you’re usually way too fucking tired, and you don’t often have the time to spare. But ever since Caleb called you his friend, you’ve been trying to open up to him more. Life is one hell of a shitshow, at least for you, but friends are supposed to make it a bit more bearable. They’re supposed to help you smile and laugh, and find joy in the little things.  

Besides, Caleb is clearly a nice guy. He’s the kind of guy anyone would want as their friend. He’s one of the few good things that ever happened to you, and you’ve decided you’ll do everything you can to keep him around. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” you say, offering a brief smile. “I’m probably not that fun to be around since I just work all the time, but I’ll do my best not to bore you.”  

Caleb blinks repeatedly. “What? There’s no way you could ever bore me! I always have fun when I’m with you. Whenever I find out we have a shift together, I always get super pumped!”  

He flashes you a huge grin for added emphasis, and you giggle, very much amused by his golden retriever-type personality.  

As it turns out, the place Caleb wanted to bring you to is an arcade. You’ve never been anywhere like this before. Even as a child, your parents never took you. Well, you grew up poor, after all, and they were usually either gambling away whatever money they had or spending it on drugs and alcohol. Taking care of their daughter wasn’t exactly at the top of their priority list.  

You suppose there’s no point in lamenting the past, though. There’s no need to waste your time thinking about the selfish assholes who abandoned you, and besides, all that matters is that Caleb brought you here. You’d like to try enjoying the moment as best you can.  

Caleb leads you inside and buys enough tokens for the both of you. He insists that it’s the least he can do, since he’s the one that invited you out, and he reassures you that it isn’t that expensive either. Part of you feels guilty about not contributing, but the other part of you is secretly relieved that he offered to pay.  

He gives you a quick run-down of the place and shows you some of his favorite machines. He must come here pretty often, by the sounds of it. You can sort of understand why, though. The arcade is loud, equipped with colorful, vibrant lights, and everyone is clearly having a great time. You spot friends laughing as they beat each other at the games, parents that are cheering their children on, and even some people that have come alone, but are still enjoying themselves. 

“Look!” Caleb beams. “They have Mario Kart. Do you like Mario Kart?”  

“I’ve never played it before,” you admit.  

“What?! Seriously?”  

His eyes bulge out of his head, as if the very notion of such a thing is beyond his comprehension. You chuckle softly in response. Again, you grew up in poverty and had a remarkably shitty childhood, so... yeah. Video games weren’t really your biggest concern.  

“I’ll teach you how to play,” Caleb offers. He gently grabs your hand and leads you towards the machine. “It’s really simple, but it’s fun. Well, for the most part. It can also get kind of frustrating when people keep spamming shells at you.”  

You bite back a grin. You never expected him to be so passionate about video games. It’s kind of cute.  

To no one’s surprise, you’re not very good at Mario Kart. Or any of the other arcade games, for that matter. Your lack of experience is woefully apparent, and you may as well be an overgrown toddler, with how you keep clumsily mashing buttons all over the place.  

“I kind of suck at this,” you remark aloud.  

Caleb laughs. “It’s okay. People come here to play for fun. No one’s keeping track of how well you’re doing.”  

“But you’ve been winning so many more tickets than me.”  

“Well, that’s because I don’t suck,” he muses, winking at you.  

You huff. What a little show-off. Fine, then. You’ll take him up on his challenge. Practice makes perfect, after all. Besides, with all these different machines, you’re bound to find at least one game that you’re better than him at. Right?  

Wrong.  

“Oh my god!” you fume. “I’m tired of losing! Can't you go a bit easier on me?”  

Caleb clamps a palm over his mouth, clearly stifling the urge to laugh, although he’s not doing a very good job of it. “Th-That wouldn’t be fair to you,” he chuckles. “Would you be satisfied with a win if I just hand it to you?”  

“At this point, yes!”  

He fully laughs out loud this time. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes in frustration. Arcades are fun. They are fun, but still. You never imagined you would suck this bad.  

“Come on,” Caleb gestures. He’s composed himself and is back to smiling gently. “There are still a few machines we haven’t tried yet. Don’t give up hope. I’ve got a good feeling you’ll pull through in the end.” 

You cross your arms and stick up your nose, pretending to snub him. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it just makes his smile widen, and his cheeks flush a beautifully pink shade. He doesn’t say it so that you don’t think he’s making fun of you, but you’re ridiculously adorable right now.  

You stop in front of a new machine. It’s some type of arcade fighting game, the kind where you have to pull off combos to win. You highly doubt you’ll stand a chance against someone as skilled as Caleb, but maybe you’ll get lucky by button-mashing enough. Or at the very least, you’ll be satisfied with not having him wipe the floor with you.  

But you suppose you’ll never find out, because someone decides to rudely cut in.  

“Move,” a deep, impatient voice mutters. “I was here first.”  

There’s a young man leaning against the side of the machine. You didn’t notice him at first because he was so quiet, but it looks like he also wants to play this game.  

“Oh. Sorry,” you mumble. “Go ahead. We’ll wait until you’re done.”  

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even nod in response. He just positions himself in front of the machine, then reaches down to load a few tokens in.  

But then, Caleb steps in front of him. 

“Come on, man,” he frowns. “We clearly got here before you. You’re just trying to cut ahead. We won’t be long, so can you just let us have this?”  

The man’s eyes narrow. “What the fuck? I was the one who got here first. You were just too blind to notice me.”  

“I don’t think so. It kind of sounds like you’re making things up.”  

“Caleb, it’s fine,” you insist, grabbing him by the hand and trying to pull him away. He’s probably right about the fact that the two of you beat the other guy to it, but arguing with him doesn’t seem worth the hassle.  

Caleb smiles reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’m not trying to pick a fight, but I just think people need to respect others and wait their turn. I promise we won’t take too long. I’ll probably beat [Name] right away.”  

“Hey!” you protest.  

He chuckles and pats your head, to which you ball up your fists and shake them in his face. You’re too immersed in your banter to realize that the other man is dead silent now, and his expression is darkening faster by the second.  

“I’m using this machine,” he mutters. “So, fuck off and get out of my way.” 

Caleb stops patting your head, and just like that, his smile drops. 

He’s glaring now.  

“Dude,” he scowls. “I was trying to be polite here. I don’t know why you’re getting so hostile, but we’re all grown-ups here. Let’s not do this. It’s clear that you’re not going to budge, so fine, you can use the machine first. But for the record, talking to people like that really isn’t cool—”  

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. You can’t even process what’s happening in time. It all happens so fast.  

One second, Caleb is perfectly fine, but when you blink, he’s lying on the ground with a bloody nose.  

The man towers over Caleb’s fallen body. There’s blood on his knuckles, but instead of wiping it off, he brings it to his lips and swipes his tongue over the crimson fluid. You shrink back in horror, and suddenly, it makes sense why he was able to knock Caleb out so easily.  

“Tastes like ass,” the vampire grimaces. “Probably ‘cause of your shit personality. This is the problem with this fucking city. Dumbass humans think they can get away with disrespecting us.”  

The arcade is deathly silent now. Everyone has turned towards the source of the commotion, and rather than calling him out for his act of violence, they all shrink away out of fear. They’re clearly worried that if they so much as breathe wrong, he’ll come after them next.  

And honestly? You can’t blame them.  

Because you’re scared shitless too.  

“Ruined my fucking night,” the vampire hisses. He kicks the machine, and if it wasn’t screwed into the ground, you get the sense that it would have flown backwards and shattered into pieces.  

He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks off. Everyone steps aside in a hurry, desperate to stay out of his way. That was a public assault, and the police will probably have to be called, but the vampire doesn’t seem the slightest bit concerned. Almost as if he’s used to getting away with this kind of thing.  

Your muscles don’t unclench until you’ve affirmed that he’s left the arcade, and the moment he does, you drop to your knees and cry out.  

“Caleb! Are you alright?!”  

It’s rather ironic. Not long ago, he was the one in this position, fretting over your unconscious body when you blacked out at work. It doesn’t look like he’s unconscious, thankfully, but his nose is almost certainly broken, and you can only imagine how much pain he’s in—on top of being incredibly scared.  

“I-I’m fine,” he winces, slowly sitting up. “Shit... I wasn’t expecting... him to hit me.”  

You wrap your arm around his shoulders and swallow nervously. He wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you hadn’t come to the arcade with him. The one time you decide to let loose and do something fun, and it ends like this.  

“Someone needs to call the police,” you insist, addressing the crowd. “What just happened is a serious crime. He broke my friend’s nose!”  

Caleb keeps trying to reassure you that he’s going to be okay, but you’re not having it. Vampires are naturally stronger than humans, which means it’s their responsibility to hold back and exert restraint. They can’t just go around doing shit like this. It’s beyond fucked up.  

And yet, the longer you stare at the crowd, the more you start to realize that something’s not right.  

A man clears his throat. “Uh... you don’t know who that is, do you?”  

“Huh? What are you talking about?”  

“That vampire. He comes here pretty often, and a lot of us regulars know to keep our distance and avoid him.”  

So? What are they trying to say? Just because he’s known for being an asshole doesn’t mean that they should let this slide. If anything, it’s all the more reason to make him own up for what he’s done.  

“He attacked my friend,” you grimace. “For no reason.”  

“Yeah. I know, and it sucks. A lot of my friends have stopped coming to this arcade because of him. Because he’s such a loose cannon. But unfortunately, there’s nothing you can do about it. He’s untouchable.”  

You narrow your eyes, still not understanding what the fuck he’s on about.  

“That’s Kai,” the man finally says. “And... he’s the Police Commissioner’s adopted son.”  

Oh.  

You blink repeatedly.  

Oh.  

"Well, shit,” you mutter.

More chapters are available on Quotev and Wattpad!

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

🩸 main masterlist! ♡ character appearances

[radio-4-is-static]

「LOST CORNER」 クロスフェード | Kenshi Yonezu listen to the new album here!!

[777heavengirl]

the one with the walk home

sirius black x reader ! - 1,272 words masterlist bags masterlist A/N: no one say anything about how this is a few hours late- also i am scoring close to what i need on my practice exams and i am ECSTATIC

“I love you too,” Sirius looked up at you, as you answered his statement from hours ago. The walk from the hospital had been a silent one until now. After you bid your goodbyes to the new parents, the two of you decided to take the tube back to your flat, his hand finding yours as you walked under the mellow hue of the streetlights. His hand was enough to make you forget any embarrassment from wearing an oversized suit jacket on top of your pajamas through the streets. “just by the way-”

Sirius broke into laughter, brief and fleeting but it left a smile in its place. 

“D’you really?” He shoved you with his shoulder, your arms extending before he pulled you back to his side. “Couldn’t tell,”

“I bloody hope so Black, I’m walking in the middle of the night for you- we might even be too late for the tube by now,” 

“Oh please- Like I’d let anything happen to you,” He said with a wink, a smirk curling on his lips. He let go of your hand, his arm easily taking its place across your shoulders.

“Me and my wand would be just fine without you though-” 

“Ah yes- I forget, you’re quite the bright witch,” You hummed in agreement, a giggle breaking from your lips “Don’t know if Professor McCormack would agree- you nearly blew his head off in defense against the dark arts our last year-”

You tskd in annoyance at the mention of your… small, incident.

“That was an isolated incident- We both know I got better scores than you on all my NEWTs-”

“Only because I ditched like half of them-” You rolled your eyes at him, the only one he had bothered to even show up for was Transfiguration out of respect for McGonagall. Not that he’d ever admit such a thing. “How's mum by the way?”

 You smiled softly at the mention of your mom. Sirius loved the woman. She loved him too, maybe too much. You were thankful for it regardless.

“She’s alright- quite tired, I reckon my dad has been driving her a bit nuts these days-” He hummed in acknowledgment, you kicked a small rock on your bath “Not that he hasn't been driving all of us crazy for years…” you sighed “Sorry-”

“For what?” He looked down at you, and you kept looking forward, leaning your head against his side. 

“I really shouldn’t be complaining about him- It could be worse, he just wants what's best for me I guess-”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn't drive you nuts love- parents are tricky that way”

“It's more than just driving me crazy- nothing’s good enough for the man,” you sighed, rubbing your temple with the pads of your fingers. You went down the stairs onto the tube’s platform “It’s exhausting- I got a job like he wanted, not in magic like he asked me to” You shook your head, fighting the wobble of your lip and the hot tears behind your eyes. “I am trying so hard to please him, the other day he had the audacity to call and tell me that he-” The voice over the intercom announced the last train of the night as you both stopped right before the yellow line. You wrapped his suit jacket tighter around your shoulders. 

“He had the nerve to tell me that he thinks I should go back to school… go to some muggle Uni- to do something useful” you mocked his voice, annoyance ripping through you as your fingers air quoted his words. The train rushed through the platform, cutting you off. The doors opened and you instinctively grabbed a hold of his hand again. “I think- Well, I know- that he wishes I hadn't been a witch at all,” you said as you went inside.

The tube’s doors closed, and you went silent. Sirius wrapped his arm around you as you sat down, the emptiness and silence of the cart hanging over the both of you. 

You thought of your parents. Your mother who had been nothing short of ecstatic when you received your letter at age 11. She even wrote a letter back to Dumbledore, a million questions on the tip of her tongue- thrilled at how exciting everything sounded. He answered every one of her questions diligently. Her daughter was a witch. 

Who would’ve thought?

Your father was another story. You thought of him, the way he never answered your letters from school, it was only your mother. But, of course, he loved you.

You hoped. 

He always said he only wanted what was best for you because he loved you. 

You thought of Walburga Black. A woman who, despite the abuse, still had the audacity to say she loved her sons. 

It took Sirius years to stop saying her torture came from a place of love. 

The train car stopped briefly at the next stop. Neither of you stood to get off. You hoped Sirius was paying attention to the stops as you rested your head against his shoulder. He squeezed your shoulder. 

Your father had never been happy about the turn your life took. Wouldn’t let you do magic in the house even when you were of age. He hated it. He wanted you to go to University. Get a muggle career, a normal career. A normal life.

That wasn’t even mentioning how infuriated he was once he found out you were moving in with Sirius. You could still hear his words in your head, even years later. 

“He’s a good-for-nothing rich kid- he hasn’t lifted a finger in his life and you’re attaching yourself to him like this? With his stupid tattoos and his stupid bike- you’re going to get yourself killed- you’re not even bloody together” Sirius squeezed you tighter to him, you didn’t think he knew what you thought about. “What happens when he gets bored of you? Ditches you for some woman- you are so stupid-”

You didn’t know if you were stupid for it. Your mom was basically planning you and Sirius’s wedding while your father cursed his presence in your life.

You thought of his unpacked bags. 

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat and stared at the map of the train lanes. 

3 More stops.

He tried ignoring the way you went silent, he tried for a second to forget the fact that you just implied you never wanted the job in the first place. Was he being crazy? No, well you just said it was what your father wanted. What about what you wanted? 

He knew the man wasn’t the fondest of him. He assumed it was the motorcycle and the tattoos, the pack of smokes in his pocket. Maybe even the smirk on his face. 

Maybe even the way his wife fawned over him.

But it was more than that, wasn’t it?

He hadn't even considered, that your non-magical father would hate the fact that you were magical. He thought of his mother, the brief flash of her words about how muggles were undesirables reverberating through his head. 

Who would’ve thought? 

So he held you tighter, in silence, because Sirius Black did not know what else to do but hold you tight in his arms and hope that you’d know. 

Hope that you’d know he loved you. Magic or not. Unconditionally, he thought. Jobless or employed. Sick or healthy. Young and stupid or old and wise. 

He loved you. 

He hoped you could hear his thoughts, so you’d know he was in love with you.

Because Godric knows he didn't dare to say out loud. 

taglist ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie @theendofthematerialgworl @featherlightfairysworld @plk-18 @coldthinghairdobakery

Let me know if i missed you or if you wanna be added!! I'm thinking doing a google doc for it? idk if it would be easier to sign up that way....

[sturnswrites]

guarded hearts - pt.2

fratboy!chris x fem!reader

⤳ you meet chris while working on a class project, your personalities are very different but chris is determined to get you out of your shell.

⤳ fluff

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

The morning after the pregame, you weren't entirely sure how to process your feelings about the night before. Chris had been...surprisingly fun. He’d kept things light, made you laugh, and didn’t seem put off by your guarded nature. You’d gone to bed replaying snippets of your conversations, confused by how easily he had managed to lower your defenses, even just a little.

But you reminded yourself not to overthink it. Chris was charming, sure, but charm was fleeting.

-

The following week, you run into Chris in the building’s mailroom. You were sorting through a stack of junk mail when his voice cut through your thoughts.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite neighbor.”

You turn to see him leaning against the doorway, his signature grin firmly in place. “Chris,” you greeted, your tone flat. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Small world, huh?” he jokes, moving closer. He nods toward the bundle of papers in your hands. “Anything good?”

“Unless you count coupon books and credit card offers, not really.”

Chris chuckles. “Exciting stuff. Hey, what are you up to later? My roommates are out, and I was thinking about ordering pizza and watching something. You in?”

You hesitate. You didn’t usually spend time one-on-one with people, especially not guys like Chris. But something about his easy confidence made you feel at ease.

“What’s your definition of ‘something’?” you ask cautiously.

“Anything you want. I’ll even let you pick the movie.”

You pretend to consider. “Fine. But if you make me watch some dumb action flick, I’m leaving.”

“Deal,” Chris said, his grin widening.

-

You show up at Chris’s apartment later that evening, arms crossed as you survey the empty living room. “Wow, no party tonight? Shocking.”

“Just you and me,” Chris replies, holding up a pizza box. “Hope you like pepperoni.”

You smirk, “Lucky guess.”

The two of you settle onto the couch, the TV casting a warm glow as the opening credits of your chosen movie rolled. Chris was surprisingly attentive, listening to your commentary and laughing at your dry humor. It was...comfortable, in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Alright,” Chris said during a lull in the movie. “Real talk. Why don’t you ever go out?”

You stiffen, your eyes glued to the screen. “What makes you think I don’t?”

“You just seem...I don’t know, like you’re always on guard.” He hesitated, his tone softening. “Not that it’s a bad thing. Just curious.”

You take a deep breath, considering how much to share. “I’ve just had bad experiences,” you finally admit. “With people. It’s easier to keep my distance.”

Chris nods, his expression thoughtful. “I get that. But not everyone’s out to hurt you, you know?”

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter.

“Hey,” he says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “I’m not saying you should trust everyone. But you can trust me. I’m not gonna let you down.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. You want to believe him, but the walls you’ve built around yourself weren’t so easily dismantled.

-

Over the next few weeks, you and Chris fell into an unspoken rhythm. You started walking home together after class more often, your conversations ranging from sarcastic banter to deeper topics about your goals and insecurities.

Chris was endlessly patient, never pushing you to share more than you were comfortable with. Instead, he focused on making you laugh, filling the silence with stories about his brothers and their ridiculous antics.

One night, after a particularly long day, you found yourself texting him.

Y/N: What are you doing?

Chris: Watching a terrible reality show. You?

Y/N: Bored.

Chris: Come over. I’ll make popcorn.

You hesitate for a moment before typing back.

Y/N: Be there in 10.

Chris was waiting for you at the door, a bowl of popcorn in hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t eat all of this while you took your sweet time.”

“Charming as ever,” you tease, rolling your eyes as you step inside.

The living room was dimly lit, the TV casting a soft glow over the couch where you two usually sat. You plop down, kicking off your shoes, and Chris settles next to you, the bowl of popcorn balanced precariously between you two.

For the first half-hour, the conversation was light, filled with sarcastic banter and commentary on the terrible reality show Chris had insisted on watching. But as the night stretched on and the popcorn dwindled, the atmosphere shifted, becoming softer, quieter.

You lean back into the couch, your head tilting slightly toward Chris as you stare at the screen. You were hyper-aware of how close you were sitting—closer than usual. At first, it had been casual, just the natural result of sharing the couch. But now, your legs were pressed lightly against each other, and neither of you made a move to shift away.

Chris seems to notice it too. His hand, which had been resting casually on his knee, moved slightly closer to your leg, though he didn’t touch you. The silence between you felt heavier than before, charged with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Do you ever think about where you’ll be in five years?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

Chris’s voice is softer than usual when he responds. “All the time. Honestly, I just want to figure out what I’m passionate about. Do something that matters, you know?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak right away. The warmth of his leg against yours was distracting, sending a strange, unfamiliar flutter through your chest.

“What about you?” he asks, glancing over at you.

You hesitate, your fingers playing with the edge of your sleeve. “I guess...I just want stability. To feel safe, like I’m in control of my life.”

Chris doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, his tone is low and steady. “You’ll get there, Y/N. You’re too smart not to.”

You turn to look at him, and the way his eyes meet yours makes your stomach flip. His expression was so sincere, so open, that it makes you feel exposed in a way you weren't used to.

“Thanks, Chris,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Anytime,” he replies, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile.

As the conversation drifts on, the distance between you two seems to shrink even further. At some point, Chris shifts slightly, leaning back into the cushions, and you find yourself doing the same. Your shoulders brush against each other, and your legs remain pressed together, neither one of you making a move to pull away.

It’s subtle, but it was the first time you have felt something between you and Chris beyond just conversation—a quiet, unspoken connection that makes your heart beat a little faster. You aren’t sure if he feels it too, but Chris’s occasional glances in your direction and the way his voice softens when he speaks suggest that he does.

-

You and Chris walk home from class, following the natural rhythm you have created when leaving your class. 

Chris adjusts the strap of his backpack, glancing over at you. “Do you ever notice how this campus looks so much better in the evening? It’s like the golden hour gives it a personality or something.”

You smile, tucking your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “A poetic frat boy. Who would’ve thought?”

Chris laughs, nudging your shoulder gently with his own. “Hey, don’t box me in. I’m a man of depth.”

“Sure you are,” you tease, rolling your eyes.

As you turn onto the sidewalk leading to your apartment complex, your laughter softens, and a comfortable silence settles between you. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a warm glow that mirrored the way you felt when you were around Chris.

Your thoughts drift as you walk, the crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet filling the quiet. You glance down at your hands, which are tucked into your jacket for warmth. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Chris shift beside you, his hand brushing against yours briefly before he moves it back to his side.

It happens again a few moments later—a slight, almost accidental touch that sends a jolt through you.

Your heart quickens, and you swallow hard, unsure of what to do. Your mind races with thoughts of past hesitations, but the quiet warmth radiating from Chris’s presence was enough to nudge you out of your own head.

Chris clears his throat, his voice softer than usual. “So, I was thinking… maybe next week we could grab coffee or something? Just the two of us.”

You turn to him, your expression caught between surprise and a tentative smile. “Like we don’t already spend enough time together?” you tease, though your tone lacked its usual edge.

Chris chuckles, his hand brushing yours again—this time lingering just a little longer. “Yeah, but coffee is different. I could use an excuse to hear you roast me more in public.”

You laugh, your cheeks warming despite the chill in the air. “You’re hopeless.”

“And yet, here we are,” he shoots back, grinning.

As your steps slowed near the entrance of your apartment complex, Chris hesitates, his hand hovering just beside yours. This time, he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his fingers lightly graze yours before gently curling them around your hand.

You freeze for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. You look down at your intertwined hands, then up at Chris, who was watching you with a cautious yet hopeful expression.

“I—uh,” you stammer, but your words falter as your heart softens.

Chris’s grip was warm, firm but not overwhelming, like he was waiting for you to pull away if you wanted to. You didn’t.

“It’s just a hand, Y/N,” he says softly, his tone playful but with a vulnerability that makes your chest tighten.

You exhale a shaky laugh, looking back down at your joined hands. “Yeah… just a hand.”

But it wasn’t just a hand. It was the first step—small, simple, but monumental in its own way. You didn’t fully understand why you let yourself take it, but as you walked the rest of the way in silence, hand in hand, you realized you didn’t want to let go.

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

yay second part so cute - writing shit like this makes me want it IRL so bad

⭒ margot

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

@mattsdillon @hesvoid3434 @admeliora94 

[sports-on-sundays]

Oh...! Maybe you can make a part 2 of the fic Mama's Boy when they're on date or make a new one with the same trope because this is so cute and I can't stop reading it! 😆

mama's boy / Héctor Fort / Part 2

Summary: Héctor x best friend!reader - Héctor takes you on both of your first dates, his clear, awkward, huge crush on you funnily apparent. Link to Part 1!

Requested?: Yes! Thank you!

"...Héctor...?!" Lamine suddenly says louder, gently slapping Héctor's shoulder, snapping Héctor out of his deep thoughts. "Did you just hear any of what I just said?" the seventeen-year-old asks in slight exasperation.

"Uh... yeah, of course," Héctor replies, looking at the younger guy like a deer in headlights.

"Then what was it?"

Héctor sighs. "Alright. Maybe I didn't hear you. Sorry. What was it?"

Lamine shakes his head. "It doesn't really matter. Not really, in any case. But what's your problem lately, man?"

"What do you mean?" Héctor asks a bit too defensively and quickly.

"I don't know. It just seems like you're always zoned out and stuff. Is there anything going on?"

Héctor sighs, shaking his head, standing up to go. "No, no, it's nothing. Just got a lot on my mind. Anyway, I've got to go now. Bye, Lamine!" and he leaves before the boy can press him any more on the subject.

Because the truth is, he does have something on his mind. Something really big. And he hasn't been able to get it off his mind literally all week.

But it'd be awkward to tell Lamine the thing that's making him literally check out of conversations is all centered around a girl. And if Héctor knows Lamine enough, he also knows Lamine would never let him live that down.

Well, tonight is his date with you. Ever since he asked you out about five days ago now, at your house, in your room, all he can focus on are the nerves of that. You, the girl he's known for years, the girl that's always been so close yet so untouchable. He is taking you out on a date.

And you actually like him back.

Just the thought of that makes his chest tighten. How on earth is he going to survive a date with you, no matter how excited he is for it?

"You've been awfully quiet this car ride," Héctor's mama says in the car seat next to him.

Héctor sighs, shrugging. "Yeah, I guess so..."

"Aren't you excited for your date?" his mama says kind of teasingly, giving him a little nudge.

"Of course! I guess I'm just..." he trails off.

"You're just a bit nervous, but that's something you'd never admit to anyone out loud, huh?"

Héctor just smiles awkwardly, shrugging, and lets his silence be the answer to that question. After a few seconds, he sighs, unbuckling his seat belt, and saying, "I just hope I don't screw it all up."

"Hey, trust me, Héc. Look here for a second," his mama says.

He looks up, meeting his eyes. "Yeah. What?"

"You won't screw it up. I'm sure it'll go great. You've known that girl since you were both born. And I have, too, by the way. And if there's one thing I can tell, it's this: she likes you just as much as you like her. She's just less of an awkward idiot about it!" His mama laughs, giving him a little pat on the shoulder.

"Hey!" Héctor snaps back, unable to keep the smile from breaking out on his face at the tease from his mama.

She gives him a little pat, saying, "There's my boy's real smile. Now, go on, and have fun, Héc!"

He smiles and nods, getting out of the car, feeling a lot better than before.

Héctor replayed this scene in his head over and over, all week, perfecting it every time, until he was sure what he would do and say, in order to be perfectly smooth and charming, without being too corny, either.

The scene where you would walk up to him, and he'd take you inside the restaurant, and you'd sit down, and it would all go just the way he wants it to.

But all the sudden, as he sees you walking towards him, he feels his heart begin to pound in his chest, and the moment you reach him and say happily, "Hey, Héctor!" all other thoughts and plans of what he would say next fly right out of his head.

His mind goes blank, and instead of the smooth comment he thought he'd make right here, he just smiles stupidly and says, "Hi. I'm glad you came!"

You smile softly. "Well, I am, too. Let's go inside."

So the two of you walk in, and Héctor internally beats himself up at how much he's 'already messed up.' At least according to himself, that is.

So in an effort to fix his mistakes, as the two of you are escorted to your table, he suddenly gently slips his hand into yours and looks at you with a sweet little smile.

You smile back, blushing a bit, and squeeze his hand gently.

That's when he blurts, "You look really good today. I mean, like... I mean, you look beautiful... Uhm..." he clears his throat. "You look good every day, obviously, I mean. I just mean to say... you look especially pretty today."

You smile, feeling how awkward he's being. But regardless, you think it's cute. He's cute. And he's being sweet. So you say simply, "Thank you. You don't look so bad yourself." You can tell he's tried to look his best for this. His clothes are perfectly ironed, his shoes clean, every hair on his head perfectly in place. You can't help but smile softly when you think about the effort he must've put into all that as you both sit down across from each other.

You both begin looking over the menu, and as you do this, you say with a little smile, after you catch him giving you little glances for the fourth time, "You really like me, don't you?"

He smiles a bit and says, "There's a lot to like about you." Finally! Something that was at least half-smooth! his brain screamed, like as if he'd just scored the winning goal. Which is actually quite funny, considering the situation itself.

You smile and say, putting a hand to your chest, "Why, thank you!"

And he grins back at you, his eyes softening in some sort of deep affection that further tells you just how down bad he is for you.

"So, what are you going to get?" Héctor asks, beginning the small talk of the night, which, honestly, you're thankful for.

As the date goes on, though, you both settle into being more and more comfortable with each other, until it seems at the end you've both forgotten this was supposed to be any different than any other time you've just hung out and had fun with each other.

Until the time for you both to get going is nearing, and suddenly Héctor, apparently getting a newfound spark of confidence, reaches across the table to take your hand in his own. You look up, watching him inhale slowly, before meeting your eyes with his own and saying in a gentler, more serious tone than the teasing one that had lingered most of the evening between the two of you: "So... have you liked it?"

You smile as each of your hands seem to naturally entwine in each other's. "Liked what?"

"Tonight. Our date."

You beam. "Oh, Héctor, I've just loved it."

"Really?" he asks, his eyes sparkling.

"Don't you know that any time I get to spend with you is amazing? Come on now, Héctor," you gently tease.

He beams back at you, squeezing your hand.

That's when you finally feel comfortable enough to ask the unabating question that's been on your mind all week: "Héctor... how long have you liked me...? You know, in this way."

He seems hesitant. Maybe slightly taken off guard. But he doesn't let go of your hand, and after some silence, finally responds with, "The truth is, it's been longer than I've even known."

You can't help but laugh a bit at that, maybe a little nervously, saying, "What does that mean?"

Héctor smiles softly. "It means that I'm starting to think I've felt like this towards you for years. Like, at least five."

Your eyes widen at that as your heart rate begins to quicken. "Oh... my goodness, Héctor, that's so sweet...!" It really is. Hearing those words from him is so... touching.

He smiles awkwardly, glancing away from your gaze, before asking, "How long have you liked me? I mean, you do like me, right?"

"Héctor! Of course I like you! I like you a lot!" you exclaim, liking the way he happily looks back up at that. "I mean, I guess it hasn't been as long as you, but I've probably liked you for, like, at least eighteen months now."

He seems to be satisfied with hearing that, and says, "It kind of seems perfect, doesn't it?"

"What does?" you ask, your expression softening further.

"The way we've known each other... forever. Our families love each other, we have the same interests, we know all the little things about each other. It's almost as if..."

"...we're meant to be?" you finish after he trails off.

His eyebrows happily shoot up. "How'd you know that's just what I was going to say?"

You chuckle. "I guess we're just on the same wavelength, too, on top of it all, huh?"

He squeezes your hand, before daring to bring your hand up to his lips and gently kiss it, saying, "I guess we are, my princess."

You stare in awe at him, suddenly feeling like he's just shot you in the heart with an arrow of love, regardless of how cheesy that all seems. You can't help but giggle and tease, "Oh my God, Héctor. I didn't know you had that in you!"

He beams, admittedly seeming quite pleased with himself.

Soon, then, he pays for the meal, and the two of you stand up to head out. As you walk, Héctor links arms with yours, and once you're outside, he turns to grab your shoulders gently, face you, and look into your eyes. All you can see in them is simple, beautiful, complete joy. It's then that he whispers, "I hope you know... how much this means to me. All of this."

You stare at him. He so... close. It's not like you haven't been this close to him before- you have, many times.

But this time? This time, it just feels... well, different.

This time is different.

His thumb gently rubs your shoulder. The tenderness in his dark brown eyes...

You swallow.

"You're so beautiful... I'm so glad I get the privilege to be so close to you. I'm so glad you're my best friend."

"And I'm so glad you're my boyfriend," you suddenly blurt with a silly little smile, your heart pounding at the words you just let slip from your lips.

His eyes immediately widen. "You... You really want to...?"

You lean in close, gazing up at him, "I'd love to, and I know you would, too."

He grins, before it slowly dies down to a simple, soft, dreamy smile. "I sure would..." he barely murmurs, moving his hand up to gently cup your cheek.

You chuckle breathy as he lean in, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek, before moving close to whisper in your ear, his cheek almost touching yours, his gentle, warm breath on your ear, "Well, I guess I've got to go now... But I'm excited for next time, huh?"

You grin, whispering back, "Oh, Héctor, I hope you know I can't wait."

He grins back and whispers, "Good. Me neither. Now, bye bye, Y/n!" He leans away again, pecking you on your cheek, closer to your mouth this time, and waves as he starts heading off.

You beam. "Bye bye, Héc!"

And this time, he doesn't seem to mind you calling him that. In fact, he might actually like it. Just a bit.

[izudeeilo]

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part .4 • Part .6

Part 5

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

All of a sudden you see Eijirou get up and pick up his things quickly, startling you.

”Sorry I need to go right now, thanks for your help! i forgot i needed to be somewhere” he chuckles apologetically.

”It’s alright, let me at least accompany you! What’s happening today?” you ask as you pick your things and shove them into your bag before following him.

”I completely forgot we had a match in another city and the bus is leaving in 10 minutes. The others are already waiting for me” he says, speeding up his pace and you do your best to keep up.

”Oh right! Hanta told me about it. I didn't know it was today, shit you better get here quickly, you want to run?” you offer as you chuckle.

”If it doesn't bother you, sure!” he laughs and the two of you begin running in the direction of the gymnasium where the bus was parked.

You were able to get there in only three minutes thankfully. You both stop and try to catch your breath.

”We’re…here— I’m here!” Eijirou pants, hand on his chest.”I lost track of time…”

”At least you’re here now come on, get inside” the coach points to the bus with a nod of his head.

Hanta smiles and you make your way to him.

”Good luck on your match”

“I would have more luck if my lucky charm was cheering me on” Hanta replies with a grin.

“Oh yeah? Is that what I am now..” you poke his chest.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders playfully.

“Mmh” he nods. “Do you have anything better to do today?” he leans on the bus.

You sigh knowing that you did in fact have nothing else to do besides staying on campus to study or just go home. So if you had to choose, you’d rather stay with him.

”If it’s fine with your coach then yeah” you nod.

”Oh you don’t have to worry about that” he guides you inside the bus and you both sit next to each other while the others sit behind and next to you as you all enjoy the rest of the ride in a joyful atmosphere.

The whole entire time you and Hanta were glued to each other, shoulders always touching. You swore you felt his hand brush yours a few times and that made your stomach turn.

This was getting so frustrating, you didn't want to admit it out loud because if you did you would realize that these…feelings were actually true and they couldn’t be true right?

Was what you felt for him truly more than friendship, wasn’t it going to ruin everything between you two if he knew?

Hanta was just so funny and charming, he always made your day a whole lot brighter. He always knew the right words to say when you were feeling down. All the little gestures he does for and my god was he good looking…

His gorgeous brown eyes that made you weak in the knees whenever he looked at you—

“You alright?” you felt someone’s hand land on your arm, it was Hanta.

”Oh yeah yeah sorry!” you snap out of your trance looking down at your cards trying to stop the blush from rising more to your cheeks.

This was so embarrassing why did you space out in the middle of the game to think about that.

”You’ve been more lost in your thoughts than usual Y/n, is there something on your mind” Mina asks you with a knowing grin on her face.

“Nothing, nothing at all” you say almost too defensive, causing the others to look at you with a confused face before laughing.

“Suuure” Denki says putting down his card and yelling “UNO”

”Oh come on…” everyone sighs in defeat and you chuckle. You realized you really need to talk to your best friends.

When you arrived, the other team was already here and they were looking quite determined.

You sat on a bench next to Mina who said you were “assisting” her in her manager duties. The court was way bigger up close and the height of the roof was really impressive. It made everything look so much bigger.

The boys were stretching a bit further away and practicing together before the match began. There weren’t a lot of people watching since this was only a friendly match between two schools and yet you hoped the boys would win this.

As they began the first set, everything was going smoothly and at the end, they won. The second set came and was a bit more challenging and the opposite team won.

After the referee whistled for the break the coach had demanded, they came back panting, sweat forming at the back of their necks.

You hand them out their towels and bottles with an encouraging smile.

”You all are doing great, you’re going to win this”

The boys all stare at me and grin, Eijirou and Denki hugging me with one arm wrapped around my shoulder.

”Thanks y/n for cheering us on, we’ll do our best” Eijirou grins with a toothy smile. “Damn right we’re going to win this” Katsuki follows with a determined look.

“Hanta can’t lose this if you’re here” he walks past Hanta and nudges him with his shoulder which results in him glaring at Katsuki with what you thought was red creeping up his cheeks? His head was turned so you couldn’t see well.

After their coach gave them a motivational speech, another whistle echoed in the gymnasium and they all returned to the court.

The last 2 sets were getting more and more intense.

Denki was giving in his all at trying to receive the ball well for his teammates. Katsuki, who was the middle blocker, ran amazingly fast each time to reach the ball Hanta or Eijirou set for him. There were two other hitters you didn’t know but they were also doing great.

You could see through their eyes how fast they were analyzing everything that was going down in the match, from the position to the eyes. You had to watch them carefully to notice all of this, someone who was sitting too far away wouldn’t be able to.

You were happy with this opportunity the guys gave you to assist in their match today, instead you would’ve been probably in bed sleeping or doing god knows what.

They won the third set and now you weren’t even sitting on the bench anymore but were standing and screaming encouraging words with Mina. Everything was going even faster now, the ball going up and down, left and right in every direction.

Scoring point after point, the score was now at 24-22 for the guys. They only needed one more to win this.

And so came one of the most stressful moments of your life as you carefully watched the ball in the air. Almost touching the ground but Denki was here to receive it but so was the other team's libero.

This went on for what felt like hours, none of the teams wanted to lose even if it only was a friendly match which showed how passionate they truly were.

Hanta was now serving, a serious look on his face as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. Everyone was focused and the whole place was quiet. You could almost hear their heart beat.

He opened his eyes, took a few steps ahead. Throwing the ball in the air, you began to see everything in slow motion.

Hanta slightly ran, crouched to gain momentum before jumping, his hand making contact with the ball as it came down.

You blinked and heard a loud thud from the other side of the court.

Nobody moved before you and Mina screamed in happiness as you both hugged each other jumping in place and everyone began loudly clapping their hands.

The boys all collide with each other as they all hug in a circle.

You continue clapping with a big smile on your face when Hanta suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with you. He runs over to you before his arms wrap themselves around your waist and lifts you up in the air as you hold onto his shoulders.

“We won!” he laughs, spinning you both around. You laugh along with him and throw your head back.

“You did, you did! You were incredible, you all were. Oh my god that match was insane” you chuckle as he puts you back on the ground.

“Thank you for coming and cheering me on hermosa” he says looking tenderly in your eyes, hands still on your waist.

”Of course Hanta.”

[fairyberkshire]

FALLING FOR SHADOWS | RAFE CAMERON AU

pairings: frat!rafe cameron x female!reader

a/n: here's some texts ! this chapter takes place the day after the party ! i hope you all enjoy !

parts: 2 . . . 3 . . . 4 . . .

There you were, off to the side in a bar, nursing a drink. The music and chatter of people all just a blur in the background to you as you feel disconnected from the crowd– the world. And, as you sit here surrounded by the crowd of the bar, you can’t help but feel isolated.

Your thoughts drifting back to your father…You had earlier had a conversation with Kiara, about her father and how he was always hovered a lot in her life…And you couldn’t help but feel…sad.

Sure, your relationship with your father was long gone. Always having been complicated. And you no longer wanted him in your life…but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt at times. 

Rafe soon strolls into the bar, spotting you almost instantly from across the room, a smirk on his lips as he walks closer to you…But when he gets closer he notices you're alone and that you seem slightly off. Shoulders slumped, and eyes distant.

And, he hesitates for a moment questioning if he should turn around or not. Wondering if it’s overstepping if he sees what’s wrong…Wasn’t even sure if you’d want his help or want him there.

After all, you two had only known each other for a short period of time…but at the same time. But another part of him– it makes him want to go and comfort you. So he does.

“So…what’s got you standing all alone?” Rafe starts, deciding to go with a more casual start, and you look up at him slightly startled, before quickly brushing off her discomfort with a laugh…But Rafe doesn’t but it, picking up fully that something is wrong. He knows you aren’t acting like yourself.The girl he’s seen before who’s witty and playful. 

And, as he doesn’t say anything back, you just give him a weak smile, dropping your gaze to your drink to avoid having to look at him. 

“Are…you alright? Sorry– you just don’t look like you’re having much fun” He says, and her eyes, flicker up to meet his, before dropping back down, giving him a small shrug.

“Just not my scene,” You say it, but he knows you’re lying. Sure, it wasn’t your scene…but neither were a few other places, and you hadn’t seemed like these before.

“Something’s off– Can tell. You can talk to me, you know” He says, reaching for your drink, gently taking it from you, not even waiting for you to protest. 

“Rafe– really. I’m fine. I just…need some space. Please” Rafe knows you’re trying to push him away, maybe as a defense mechanism…so he doesn’t take it personally. 

“I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to give me details– I know some things up. But I’m here…”  Rafe says this, and you just slightly roll your eye, but you can already feel yourself slipping to want to tell him. To let him in. But questioning if you should.

“Why do you even care, Rafe?” Your voice wavers slightly, and the crack in it…the vulnerability he can sense slip through…it hits Rafe harder than he expects. So, he pulls you with him to a table, sitting down with you, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, just watches you silently– this isn’t exactly what he’s used to…caring like this.

And sure, he’s been there for his sister at times…but with you, it feels different. “I care– I care because no matter what’s going on right now…I can sure as hell tell you I was probably in worse…And that look you had? The one that tells me that you felt like the world was moving on without you. Like you’re just…stuck. Yeah– I’ve been there. And it’s not something you should face alone…trust me” He admits, and it’s when you look at him, tears welling in your eyes that he feels his heart break.

“It’s stupid…Doesn’t matter–” “If you’re sitting here like this it matters…” His words hold the truth obviously, making you stare at your drink for a long moment, your fingers fidgeting with the rim of the glass, making the condensation smear against the…the words tight in your throat making you feel suffoacated– but his gaze makes it feel like you can say what you need to.

“It’s my father…” You softly say, and his brows furrow slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, giving you the time to say something more. “When uhm…When I was born…he didn’t want anything to do with me. Told my mom that– or some bullshit like that. He just…left. And I– I was okay with that, you know? Like, I told myself that I didn’t need him” You pause, your voice cracking slightly as the next words spill out.

“But then, he’d occasionally just pop into my life out of nowhere– and then when I was fifteen…He decided he wanted to come into my life again…more permanently, like he wanted to make up for all this lost time, making all these promises. And stupid me– stupid me believed him. I believed him. I thought…I thought maybe I was enough..”

You start again, but your hands start to tremble slightly, and all while yours do, Rafe’s do the same under the table…his chest becoming tight as his own mind flickers to his family. The pressure and expectations he’d felt growing up– how his father was never what he needed in a father…So Rafe pulls his hand from under the table, reaching out and letting his fingers softly brush yours to provide you (and himself) some sort of comfort…and it does.

“But then…he’d leave again…And now here I am. I’m 19...I’ve had him out of my life for a while. Blocked. And I don’t even want anything to do with him– But…It still hurts, Rafe” You say, tears falling, as you pause.

“What– What is so wrong with me that I couldn’t stay?.. Why– why wasn’t I enough? Why am I not enough…” Rafe’s jaw tightens as he processes your words, and he’s quiet for a moment, making you wonder if you’ve said too much, but then he starts to speak, and it’s steady and sure.

“There is nothing wrong with you, y/n. Nothing. If your dad couldn’t see how lucky he was to have you in his life he’s an idiot, and that’s on him– not you. That’s his failure. Not at all yours” He says, it, and you blink at him, his words hitting you like a truck.

“And for what it’s worth?...You’re amazing. So amazing. Hell, you barely know me and you’ve already put up with my crap more than most would” You give him a smile, and it’s the first one you’ve given him all night, even as the tears fall down your cheeks…and he too smiles, shifting closer to you, his hand now fully holding yours…

And when he does this, the heaviness in your chest starts to lift,  just a little, and he stays by you– not letting go of your hand as you both just sit in the quiet corner of the bar, and for once, you feel like you aren’t alone.

[captain039]

PART 5 Tender hearted souls

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: Age gap, slow burn, feelings, hurt/comfort, two fools in love, angst, light swearing, mental health issues, daddy issues, daddy!dom/little girl, plus size reader,

Previous part <-

You’re nervous the whole day. Waiting till he’s sound of mind if it’ll ever happen. You stay in your room, avoiding lunch, hearing him shuffle around a few times, his desk chair squeaking. You’ve gotten up more than once going this is the time to talk now then ended up hiding under your blankets saying that it wasn’t in fact the time. It’s about dinner time you think, you hear someone at the door, take away you think, Hugh answers it and then you hear his footsteps coming closer. You tense up sit up like you haven’t been lying in your bed all day over thinking. He knocks lightly two pizza boxes in his hand and two drinks. He asks you silently if he can come in and you nod as he lets out a small sigh, lays the two boxes on your bed and puts the drinks on your bedside table before sitting on the ground.

“You don’t have to sit on the ground” you say shuffling closer to where he sat.

“It’s alright” he says voice a little gruff. You sit in silence, eating some pizza, you keep glancing to him, looking at the back of his head before you can’t take it. You struggle but you manage to sit on the floor beside him, sort of sliding off the bed. He raises an eyebrow but smiles handing you your drink. After you’re both fall you stare at that wall, quite literally, occasionally taking sips of your drink.

“So” Hugh finally begins and you tense up but mentally ready yourself.

“Spose we should talk” he says voice quieter and you nod.

“Where did you wanna begin?” He asks and you watch him swallow.

“The day before dinner” you say and he nods giving you a small glance.

“What went through your head? On the couch?” You ask fiddling with your bottle as you hear him take a small breath.

“How beautiful you were” he mutters and you flush not expecting that answer.

“When you smile like that and that laugh, uncontrolled” he smiles chuckling softly.

“I couldn’t stop thinking how beautiful you were, your soft red cheeks, the rise and fall of your chest” he continues and you forget to breathe.

“I wanted to kiss you then” he admits and you remember to breathe nodding.

“I stopped myself, cursed myself to hell pretty much” he sighs and you see the frown on his face.

“And ignored me for the rest of the day” you add quietly and he scoffs but nods.

“Yeah” he nods.

“The dinner?” You ask.

“I was jealous” he says and you frown, jealous of who?

“Of who?” You ask confused.

“Everyone, the air you breathed” he sighs arms tensing.

“Oh” you mumble.

“You pulled me away with this look in your eyes, desperate, heart broken and I broke” he adds hanging his head.

“You kissed me” you say and he nods.

“Yeah, I kissed you” he repeats quietly with a loud sigh.

“I kissed you back” you say.

“I know you did” he says softer a small smile playing at his lips.

“Why’d you leave?” You ask voice trembly.

“Because I hated myself” he says.

“Why?” You ask.

“Because I’d forced myself on you” you frown, you didn’t feel forced.

“You didn’t force yourself on me, I didn’t say no or push you off” you say and he sighs.

“You should’ve” he mumbles and it makes you frown and breaks your heart.

“Why?” You say tone sterner.

“You’re a young beautiful woman, you don’t need or want someone like me” he says looking to you. You frown at him, anger rising up.

“What do you know about what I need or want?” You say defensively.

“You ran off without a word storming out like a damn child and left me there!” You say before he can speak as you stand a little quickly.

“I needed to clear my head” he says calmer.

“Clear your head right, well I couldn’t, I couldn’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking time!” You take a breath, controlling yourself for a moment.

“You didn’t text or call, or give any indication of if you were alright or at least processing” you say looking to him on the floor, he looks embarrassed as he looks away.

“I was at the bar” he says.

“I know you were” you state.

“I was trying to get drunk and find someone” he adds and the words hurt.

“You were trying to find someone” you mumble it. Shaking your head.

“I couldn’t, I looked at them and they weren’t you, so I went home and cried myself to sleep after jerking off to the thought of you” his words make you frown, he did look like shit, not to the point of crying shit though. You try not to react to the jerking off part and nod curtly.

“Jesus” he mutters crossing his legs. You take a small breath trying to ground yourself.

“I’ve known you for years, since you were a youngen” he mutters leaning back and looking to you.

“I watched you grow, watched you become a woman” he sighs.

“I hated that distance you put between us, but i shouldn’t have forced it close again” he adds.

“You know why I did that?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“Because I had feelings for you, grown up ones, I was pining after you like a puppy, I wanted to touch you, kiss you, run my hands through your hair, feel your body on mine-“ you take a breath seeing his eyes go wide.

“So I tried to remove myself from the situation, but I hated it, I cried most nights because I missed the feelings on your hugs, the smell of you, your fun, your jokes everything” you sigh.

“I missed you too much so played pretend, acted like I didn’t want more every time you hugged me, or every time id stay over id think about going into your room just to see what you’d do, or how we go out everywhere, your arm always around my shoulders, or your hand in mine” you feel tears roll down your face and you wipe them away quickly.

“I couldn’t help but think deeper, wonder what it’d be like if those hand holdings went deeper, protectiveness, this is mine” you made a fist with your hand by your side.

“Or at restaurants we’d be the couple they’d kick out because your hands would be on me more, I-“ you laugh quietly, all these scenarios in your head.

“I want you, I need you in some fucked up way” you mumble watching him stand his eyes on yours.

“Well?” You ask trying to keep your emotions in check. He stands by you, close, close enough for your breaths to mingle.

“You need me?” He asks softly and you scoff a bit, feeling his hand go to your neck holding you firmly. There’s a look in his eyes, one you can’t place and it sends a shudder through you, makes your head nod.

“Words” he says.

“Yes, fucks sake, I do I-“ you stutter off. He kisses you again, lips firmly against yours, nose to cheek. You moan softly clutching his shirt with your fists. His hand on your neck keeps you in place while his other goes to your hip. He tilts your head kissing you deeper as you breathe heavily through your nose before you can’t breathe. You whine softly pulling back and pant loudly, air flowing into your lungs, forehead against each other. You unclench your hands from his shirt, watching his chest rise and fall, just as quick as yours. You nod to yourself like you need to confirm that just happened.

“Are we done talking?” He mutters and you frown a bit.

“I don’t know” you mutter back.

“I’m not gonna touch you if you’re not, but if you are” his hand on your hips clench and you take in a small breath.

“Oh” you breathe out.

[gaydr0id]

Am I Dreaming?

"Get some sleep, Detective Reed." Gavin doesn't have to look away from his desk terminal to know the voice belongs to his partner, RK900. "You underperform your duties when you are exhausted." 

Gavin snorts. "I just closed a case this morning. I'm performing my duties just fine. Get off my dick you plastic prick."

[Nines does not get off his dick, in fact he gets much more on it.]

Words: 1096

Rating: M (There's sex but it's not very graphic)

Gavin Reed can't remember the last time he got a good night's sleep. Between the nightmares and the ungodly amount of caffeine it takes to get him through a work day he's lucky to get 5 consecutive hours in one night. When he's unlucky he doesn't see his bed for days. 

This week, he's been unlucky. Gavin has gone home to his apartment for a few hours each night to feed himself and his cat but he hasn't bothered laying in bed for four days. Looking over case files until the words blur together feels better to him than staring at the ceiling waiting for something that's never going to happen. 

"Get some sleep, Detective Reed." Gavin doesn't have to look away from his desk terminal to know the voice belongs to his partner, RK900. "You underperform your duties when you are exhausted." 

Gavin snorts. "I just closed a case this morning. I'm performing my duties just fine. Get off my dick you plastic prick."

"Would you like me to accompany you back to your apartment?" offers Nines, ignoring the insult.

Gavin takes a few clumsy gulps of lukewarm coffee from the mug beside him. "Yeah, sure," he relents. Despite his defensiveness he really does need sleep. "This chair's starting to hurt my ass anyway."

"The chair, or your posture, Detective?"

"Shut up," replies Gavin, giving Nines a playful smack on the back of the head. 

The first few times Nines had offered to take care of Gavin he found it offensive. Then one night, about a year ago, after 8 days without seeing his bed, Gavin couldn't refuse anymore. He let the android feed him and clean his apartment while he slept. There was no use in declining after that. Whenever his sleep deprivation gets particularly bad Nines offers to come over and Gavin lets him. Though he's never admitted it, he really appreciates the company. Even if there is always a closed door between them. On many nights Gavin wishes that door would open and Nines would join him in bed. He frequently touches himself thinking about it, even when Nines isn't there.

Gavin tosses and turns for hours, wishing the door would open, wishing for sleep, wishing for anything other than unyielding silence. Even the nightmares seem more appealing than this. Out of pure frustration Gavin blindly grabs the closest object on his nightstand and chucks it across the room. Whatever it is hits the wall with a thud. It may have left a dent but he can't tell in the dark. That was pointless, childish, but he is far past a state of rationality. 

The drumming heartbeat in his ears masks the carpeted footsteps entering his room. Gavin nearly jumps out of his skin when a tall figure looms over his bed. 

"Gavin?" comes RK900's low voice. "Are you alright?"

"Just peachy," Gavin grumbles. 

"Would you like me to stay with you?" offers Nines.

Gavin wants to protest but he can't bring himself to. He has been waiting months for this and he's just so damn tired. All he can do is nod, knowing the android has perfect night vision to view his response. 

The mattress dips as Nines lays down behind Gavin. The android is surprisingly warm as he presses up against the detective. A slender arm snakes around Gavin's body to cup his groin. This time Gavin does jump out of his skin. "The fuck are you doing?!" he exclaims. 

Nines pulls away. "Sexual release can be a powerful sedative in many humans," he explains. "Isn't that why you masturbate before falling asleep?"

He noticed that, huh? 

"Shut up and touch me, asshole.”

The touch is warm and hazy and glorious. Rk900's grip is surprisingly gentle against Gavin's growing erection. He expected androids to be cold and firm but the smooth plastic combined with rubber grips at the fingertips actually creates a fairly pleasant sensation. Or maybe that's just how he wants it to feel. After all, whenever he imagines Nines coming into his bedroom this is what it feels like. Warm and soft like a human would be. Gavin's brain is so foggy he can't tell if this is actually happening. God, he hopes it is. 

Gavin has no self restraint left in his exhausted body. He groans and grinds against the hand fondling him through his boxers. 

Nines chuckles to himself. "With your atrocious work/life balance I suppose you don't get a lot of sexual attention, do you, Reed?" 

The android's obnoxious voice is right in his ear. Despite himself, it sends a shiver down Gavin's spine. 

"Shove it up your ass, Nines." The threat sounds so pathetic falling from quivering wanton lips. 

"I don't have an opening there," Nines returns. "Would you like me to use my mouth instead?"

Of course the prick took it literally. Normally that would frustrate Gavin but right now all he can think about is his cock in the android's mouth. 

"Fuck yes," he answers. 

RK900 repositions Gavin with ease, rolling him onto his back and placing himself between the man's legs. Nines doesn't bother removing the boxers, opting to pull Gavin's penis through the slit at the front. 

Nines takes Reed into his mouth but without spit to smooth the friction, it doesn't feel especially pleasant. 

"Hold on," grunts Gavin, shoving the android's head away. 

He fumbles in the drawer of his nightstand until his hand finally clutches onto a bottle of lube. Once he has applied an ample amount to his shaft he gropes in the dark for Nines to continue. The android does and this time the curves of his warm cavity feel sublime against Gavin's tender length.

"Fuck, baby," the pet name slips out without Gavin meaning it to but he is too tired and too enraptured by sensation to feel embarrassed. 

Gavin loses all sense of time. The blowjob feels like it lasts forever but is simultaneously over in an instant. He is barely aware of his orgasm as it quakes through his body. Nines is saying something to him but he can't make out the words. 

When did he fall asleep? 

When Detective Reed wakes the sun is hanging low in the sky. "shit," he hisses. He scrambles around for his phone only to realise that was what he had thrown across the room the night before. 

Upon retrieving it from a pile of dirty laundry he sees a message from Nines: I told Fowler you needed a day to rest. I have no idea how I'm going to make any progress on the Miller case without your coffee fuelled sardonic comments but I'll try my best.

Asshole. 

[paingoes]

Rubies

Waiting Room

hello! so i actually wrote this a while back but couldn’t think of a right time to post it. this takes place on the same day as First Base, but it’s a different POV!

(Content: living weapon whumpee, discussions of war and child soldiers, implied child abuse, dehumanization)

“I’ve got it,” Kitty made a little circle with her fingers. O.K. They were escorted away before Apollo could respond.

“Okay. I’m gonna go…beg for his life, I guess,” Apollo said into the empty space she’d just been standing in.

“I’ll go with you,” Iza piped up. At least she didn’t leave him hanging. Apollo was surprised by her eagerness, but he knew it was the correct move on her part. It’d be better to seek Levon out than the other way around. He would not react well if he felt he’d had to catch them.

For better or worse, it did not take long for their paths to intersect. Levon was already out in the hall. One woman from the counsel hung by his side. They spoke in low tones. She was one of the few people on base that matched Levon in age and in history. She shot the two of them a dirty look as they approached.

“Oh, speak of the devil.” Levon lifted his hands up in greeting, a sardonic smile appearing upon his face. He couldn’t hold it any longer then a second. His expression quickly fell back into its fatigue state. Not exactly angry, but clearly not pleased. The woman slipped off into the shadows, patting him lightly on the back before she departed. 

“It’s my fault,” Apollo put himself between Levon and Iza. “I take full responsibility.”

“Not how it works, kiddo. Chain of command.” Levon looked straight past him.

Iza did not say anything in her own defense. Levon shot her a curious look. It had meant something that she’d come to find him and that she had not come to argue the point. It was a good start. They could talk later. They would.

But Apollo clearly needed a wall to throw himself against. Levon started to move down the hall again. He wasn’t totally shutting him out, but he had better make his point quick. He’d had it so rehearsed before, but the words sounded hurried this time, more uncertain than ever. 

“Captain, it’s not his fault. You understand that. He didn’t have a choice. It’s not fair to punish him for what Empire did. You can’t hold that against him. You won’t, right? What we did, it has nothing to do with him. He didn’t know. He still doesn’t know. He just woke up. He-“

Levon held up a hand, “I thought you had a powerpoint.”

“I do,” Apollo admitted, “I can go get it if you give me five minutes.”

“That’s alright.”

“Captain!” Apollo hissed. They’d already arrived just outside of the ward. 

“Please don’t hurt him.”

It was such an earnest and simple request that Levon’s resolve momentarily cracked.

“Take it easy. Whatever I decide, I’m not going to do it right now. Save your breath.”

“He’s scared, Levon.”

“Has it ever occurred to you that you’re not the only person in the world who knows right from wrong? That I might actually know what I’m doing?”

Apollo shut up. Iza put a hand on his shoulder, both to steady him and to pull him back. Levon signaled to the medical staff to clear out just before he stepped into Delta’s room.

==========

Levon stepped back out into the lobby, shutting the door quickly behind him. There was a deep unhappiness in his features.

Apollo’s face was marred with concern. It had been for as long as he had waited there. But as he caught sight of Levon’s haunted expression, it slipped into a barely suppressed smugness. I told you so.

In the same way, Levon’s horror flickered briefly into exasperation as the two made eye contact.

“You didn’t say he was a baby,” Levon insisted. He realized instantly that the effect would be lost on Apollo. Levon often felt that he was surrounded by children. He maintained his own inner circle, each of them tending to their own sector, but all the rank and file skewed young. Apollo was no exception to this, hardly tipping twenty four, but then Apollo’s career had just begun. Delta’s star had been burning ever since he was a child.

Levon forgot any thoughts of penalty. He couldn’t reasonably hold him accountable for things he had done as a child. Delta was a ward of Empire. It was their fault. 

Apollo searched Levon’s expression, still seeming a bit too satisfied with himself.

“You’re not off the hook,” Levon told him.

“I know, Captain,” he said mildly, “Is he?”

Levon leaned against the wall. He palmed at his forehead in hopes of relieving the tension building up there.

“I don’t understand the child soldier thing. I’ve never understood it. Why? Is there that much of a shortage that they can’t fish from the adult pool anymore? What purpose does it serve?” Levon didn’t hide his disgust. Empire already recruited teenagers as a matter of policy, but there had been more and more reports of them dipping even lower. He’d gotten reports of combatants as fresh as twelve stumbling blindly into enemy territory. They’d be found limping and with blisters from where their oversized boots had rubbed them raw. They had to be carried out.

Iza spoke up. Levon was surprised to hear her speak. She’d been hanging back, trying to make herself unseen, as if he might bite her. 

“Kids have more raw psychic talent than adults. They lose it as they get older. It’s rare

you find someone who’s been trained enough to carry their abilities into adulthood. You need to start them young,” she mused.

The clarity with which she spoke of it was incriminating.

“Tell me the truth,” Levon said, “Did you know?”

“We suspected,” Apollo admitted, “Strongly.”

“And what? You wanted it for yourself?” 

“No.“ Apollo’s voice got all pitchy, the way it did when he was upset. “How can you even think that?”

“You?” Levon ignored his indignation, turning his gaze to Iza.

“Me?” Iza asked. She let some softness creep into her voice, “I didn’t want anything. I thought it would be a good experiment. I thought you might get something out of it. But I knew you’d never want to use it, not the way they did. I know you.”

Levon relaxed in a way that was barely observable. He took a deep breath.

“You are very, very lucky this didn’t go worse. Do I even have to tell you all the nightmare scenarios that could have unfolded instead? If you had gotten caught? If he had detonated? The standard response for this kind of insubordination is automatic and permanent dismissal. Were you aware of that?”

Neither of them answered. It was a wise thing to do.

“However.” Levon continued. “Things are about to get very, very bad for us. Early reports say the civil war is over. The prince’s staff sold him out. Nezu is preparing to be coronated and he now runs unopposed. We will not have the advantage of a divided Empire anymore. All the heat is going to be on us. For that reason, I’m disinclined to let you go entirely.”

Again, neither of them spoke. Apollo put all his energy into keeping his face neutral.

“…Thank you.” Iza’s voice was low. 

“Don’t,” Levon denied the moment, “I haven’t decided what I’m doing with you yet. All I’m saying is you’re not kicked out. What I do might be worse. You — you are going to go apologize to him for putting him in this situation.”

“I will!” Apollo answered quickly, “I mean, I did. But I’ll do it again. He’s okay, right? You’re not gonna do anything to him?”

“He’s fine,” Levon waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it.”

Apollo looked as though he might collapse on the spot. All the tension that had been holding him up was not depleted. He was relieved, but more than that, he was exhausted. Stress was going to take all of them out before Empire ever could.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @pigeonwhumps

[the-and-sign-anon]

The Third Independent: 7

Word count: 1,613

Series Masterlist

One Hundred-Fifty Years Post-Fall

Meryl, Roberto, and Vash were sitting in a saloon in a town a day’s drive away from the now destroyed Jeneora Rock. While there, they overheard a few men discussing a monster in the dunes. It had been spotted a few weeks before in the next town over and everyone was on edge because of it. Vash just groaned quietly and dropped his head back. 

“What’s got you all upset, Stampede?”

“Is it that thing those men are talking about? Have you ever seen it?”

“Not a thing. But they are what I’m thinking about.”

The two reporters shared a look, Roberto gave a little ‘go ahead’ gesture, and Meryl turned back to her new friend. 

“What are you talking about?”

“The ‘Worm Beast’ they’re talking about. They have it all wrong.” Vash sat back up and took a sip of his water. “They aren’t dangerous and they would never hurt anyone.”

“You talk about them like you know them personally.”

Vash shrugged. After more than a century spent exploring Noman’s Land, he knew to keep certain things to himself. And he just couldn’t risk saying too much about you without worrying that it could put you in danger. 

“I’ve met them before. They aren’t some monster. They’re not that different from me, actually.”

Roberto chuckled before sipping at his own drink. 

“You’re saying there are two naive, well-meaning, freakishly skilled weirdos with bad reputations wandering around this planet?”

Meryle lightly smacked his arm and kept focused on Vash.

“How many times have you met this person? If they aren’t what people say, then how did they get their reputation? Where did all these stories come from? And how old are they? These stories have been circulating for over seventy years-”

Roberto clapped a hand over her mouth, earning a fiery glare in response.

“That’s enough for today, newbie. I’d rather drink in silence now.”

Meryl rolled her eyes and stood to go get the group rooms for the night. Vash offered the senior reporter a little half-smile. 

“Thanks, Roberto.”

“Don’t thank me, that kid won’t ever shut up.”

Vash muffled his soft laughter with his glass. Roberto wasn’t about to admit it, but he didn’t mind Vash as much as he pretended to. Or Meryl for that matter. With the conversation successfully stopped, Vash didn’t have to worry about it any further that night. 

After Meryl hit Wolfwood with her car two days later, you drifted into conversation again. As the group drove through the scorching sands, Wolfwood shared a bit about his travels. He, of course, had encountered the fabled Worm Beast. 

“You actually saw it?”

“Swear on my life, shortstack. It had to have been something like eight feet tall. Glowing eyes, surrounded by Worms, the whole deal.”

Vash couldn’t help but chuckle at the mental image Wolfwood painted. You, in all your weird glory, enjoying a night with your little friends while unfortunately freaking out any passersby. 

“What, Needle-Noggin? You don’t believe me?”

Meryle snorted and glanced at the two men in her rearview. 

“Oh, Vash knows the Worm Beast.”

Wolfwood stared at him so hard Vash tucked himself against the window and looked out at the sand. 

“I said I’ve met them. And I have. They aren’t dangerous or anything.”

That wasn’t accurate and he knew it. Probably one of the biggest lies he could possibly tell. But you weren’t dangerous in the way Nai was. You didn’t hate humans, so you would never lash out at them without good reason. He did wish you were a little closer to him on the pacifism scale, but there was no changing that at this point.

“There’s no way something that big isn’t dangerous. How trusting are you, Blondie?”

“I’m not naive. I don’t trust people who don’t deserve it.” Vash took a steadying breath and tried not to get upset. “Just don’t talk about them, alright? You don’t know anything about them.”

Roberto studied Vash in the mirror. He wasn’t a tense or defensive guy, he’d seen that much. But this Worm Beast, whoever you really were, was clearly a sore spot for him.

The two went on bickering in the backseat for a while, only stopped by their arrival at the rundown rest stop. It was all action from there, with the bodies to bury and the fight with the Grand Worm. The argument in the car was not forgotten, but at least brushed aside for the time being as the whole group sat down to eat with a trio of bandits they met. 

Vash was subdued, but a little less so than the day before. He ate at least, but wasn’t too interested in talking at first. Meryl stuck next to him, ducking to hide behind him when Wolfwood tried to shove a chunk of roasted Worm meat in her face. Vash nudged Meryl into a sitting position, grabbed the meat from Wolfwood, and closed his eyes for a moment. He whispered a quiet thanks to the Worms, then dug in. Meryl opted to push aside the image of his teeth, too sharp and too many to be entirely normal, as they tore into the meat.

“What was that you said?”

Vash took his time chewing before answering quietly. 

“I was thanking the Worms. It’s because of them that we have food to eat. It’s only right to express appreciation for that.”

She looked contemplative for a moment. 

“Huh… I guess I never really thought much about that.”

Vash shrugged as he continued eating. 

“Most people don’t.” He barely whispered as his eyes studied the flames. “I might not have, if it weren’t for my Mayfly.”

Meryl wondered at the reverence in his tone. She couldn’t think of a time she’d heard someone speak that way. 

“Mayfly?”

She tried for an encouraging expression. She wanted Vash to open up, but if he backed out now, she’d leave it for another day. She could wait for him to take that first step if he wanted to trust her with it. 

“My Mayfly. My partner. I haven’t… I haven’t gotten to see them for a long time. To be honest, as difficult as it is to deal with the bounty on my head, I’m a little bit glad it keeps me moving. I can look for them better that way.”

“... did something… happen to them?”

Vash tossed the clean bone to the fire. 

“Not exactly. We both like to move around, we have for years. But we…” Vash had to tread carefully. He couldn’t put you in any kind of danger. “We had to go our separate ways for a bit. I think they might be searching for me too, especially if they’ve seen the wanted posters.”

Meryl winced in sympathy. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be separated from your significant other, only to discover in some worn down town that he had a multimillion double-dollar bounty on his head.

“What are they like?” Meryl curled in on herself, some part of her mind telling her to seem as non-threatening as possible. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

Vash looked a world away as he watched the flames. What could he share about you? What felt safe to share? What was he willing to share when he wanted nothing more than to keep you all to himself forever?

“They’re… strong. Strong willed, strong mind, just… strong. And they’re smart too. They just have this… particular way of looking at the world. Like it’s so much bigger than what humanity sees.”

He wished you could be here. Despite the messages you managed to send each other, it was rare that you actually got to meet up. He hadn’t seen you in over a decade; you had seemed so tired then, like you wanted to stop moving. But you’d only do that if Vash could stop with you. 

“If I didn’t have a bounty on my head, I think things would be different. I’d build them a home, somewhere they don’t have to leave behind.” 

It was like opening floodgates. He couldn’t think of anything but you, couldn’t stop himself now that he’d started. He described the life he wanted to give you, once he could finally settle down. Meryl listened thoughtfully as he talked about the towns he’d seen that he wished he could explore with you beside him. For an hour or so, Vash just got to… talk. About you, and your future together, and he wasn’t so afraid of it being used against him. 

Eventually, his words slowed and his eyes began to droop. Meryl nudged him and helped him to his feet, ushering him towards the truck to sleep. He certainly needed it. His dreams, as they often did, brought him to you. Images of a small, comfortable home where you never had to worry about anything again. 

Meryl tried to look out for Vash after that night. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to deal with everything he dealt with, so she just did what she could. She offered him food whenever she was certain he hadn’t eaten and made sure he knew she was a listening ear whenever he needed it.

After stopping the sand steamer, the group headed for Home. Vash barely managed an introduction before collapsing into bed. Meryl, as much as she wanted to investigate, agreed to sleep too, her exhaustion overtaking her before she could ask much of anything. For the first time he could remember, Vash slept at Home without you, leaving him more restless than ever. It just didn’t feel right. It wouldn’t, until you were back in his arms.

[captain-mj]

I don't know if anyone has asked yet, but I'd love a part 2 of the horangi/konig mafia AU.

I absolutely adore the characterisation and I am starving for Horangi finding out who Konig actually is!

This was a bit longer than I was expecting but here ya go (smut at the end)

Part 1

König brought Horangi slightly better food after his bath, smiling at him. He watched Horangi start to eat for a few minutes. Horangi looked up at him and swallowed. “You okay?”

“Yes. I’m fine. Are you feeling better?”

“Much. It felt nice. Feels nice being clean.” 

König nodded and smiled at him. “Rest now, ja?”

Horangi nodded before admitting. “Still exhausted from those pills.” He was visibly leaning over and as soon as König took the bowl, he slumped back into the bed. “Done nothing but sleep since I got here.”

“You’re injured. It does that.” König pressed his hand to Horangi’s forehead, making sure there was no fever. The paranoia that Horangi might develop an infection was still high, but he seemed to be doing well. He gently helped Horangi to lay back down and put his blanket over him. Horangi’s eyes had started to glaze over and he was light enough that König could move him around. 

König left him to sleep and stretched. He then rolled his shoulders before pulling his hood back on. 

The person who bought Horangi, his dad’s previous right hand man, had the decency to at least look sheepish when he saw him. 

“In my defense, I thought he’d be good for you!”

“I do not need… whatever he is.” 

“He’s whatever you want him to be. He has no family. Came to this country after being kicked out of his last one. No friends, just gambling debt. An easy mark.”

König sighed and shook his head. “Declan, while I appreciate you looking out for me, I am just fine.”

“Leon. You’re socially anxious and useless when talking to people on your own. Whether you want him as a translator, boytoy, bodyguard, friend, I don’t care. I just thought he’d do you some good.”

“...Bodyguard huh?” König had been considering it. He liked Horangi honestly. Very cute. Small. Even with the new scarring, he was handsome. Once it healed, König had no doubts he’d be stunning. What little conversation they had managed to have proved he was intelligent. Spoke enough German to know what König meant, even if he clearly wasn’t fluent. He’d be a good bodyguard, even if that wasn’t something König really needed. It meant they’d be close and if he didn’t want to deal with a social situation, his bodyguard could do it. 

“I’ll wait until he’s recovered.” 

Declan nodded. “Glad you’re seeing my side. I just want what’s best for you, kid.” 

König wrinkled his nose, but didn’t point out that he was 24 and Declan was only in his earlier thirties. Not the closest, but close enough for it to not make sense for Declan to try acting like his dad. 

Plus, König’s dad was dead and he wasn’t looking for a replacement. He didn’t particularly like the one he had. The man started a criminal empire and then died during a crucial part of it. And now he was stuck dealing with this. 

König sighed. “Alright, Declan.” He dealt with his normal duties, still constantly thinking of Horangi. This was going to be complicated. 

It was the fourth day now and, after making sure his hood wasn’t on, König was bringing Horangi more food. He asked the chef to make him something special for him. They provided a soup made mostly of chicken and ginseng. It smelled fragrant. König would have to try it. Probably would taste good. 

Horangi looked excited when he handed it to him. He clearly recognized it and immediately started eating. His face looked a bit red and König reached out, gently placing his fingers to his face. Warm, but not feverish. He’d keep an eye on it, but he was sure it would be fine. 

Horangi sipped the soup and glanced up at him. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“Most Korean parents make this for sick children. We’re in Austria. You’re clearly Austrian.”

König shrugged. “Just asked them to make something you like.”

“You’re not the one cooking?” Horangi tilted his head and König wondered if he had any idea who he was. He sat on the bed next to him and watched him curiously. 

König realized he hadn’t responded and winced. “No. I’m not. I’m just… your caretaker.” 

“Ah. Do you know who I’ll be working for?”

“KorTac.” 

Horangi paused and looked up at him. He didn’t give much of a reaction besides that. Not even a flicker of emotion for König to interpret. “Ah. I owe them money.”

“Your debt has been cleared.”

“What could I possibly do that’s so useful they’d be willing to do this?” 

König stared at him. 

Horangi frowned. “You have to know something right?”

König must’ve reacted because Horangi was leaning forward. “Look, if they don’t give the job to me, that’s fine. But please, tell me what my job is if they give it to me.” He grabbed König’s hands. So confident. Tiger was fitting for him. 

König grabbed his hand back, comparing them. They both had calluses on their trigger finger from guns. Little cuts from handling knives. Horangi had a line across one of his fingers like it had been purposefully cut. König had a line across his palm and little pale lines across his fingers from rings. 

“The boss’s bodyguard.”

Horangi moved closer. “Why would he need a bodyguard?”

“He doesn’t. You’re just for show.” König pulled away from him and stood up. “Finish eating. You should be focused on your recovery.”

Horangi frowned and stared up at him. “Who’s your boss?”

König smiled brightly. “He’s nice. Don’t worry. Again, nothing for you to worry about.”

Horangi did not look sure but he clearly decided to accept it for now, not like he had much of a choice. He finished eating and let König rebandage him. König examined him, making sure everything looked okay. 

“You’re healing well, Horangi.”

Horangi nodded slightly and rolled his shoulder. He winced. “Still hurts but not as bad.” 

König nodded and lightly pressed his fingers to them. His fingers were cold against the cuts but Horangi didn’t move away. 

“Yes. Healing very well.” He patted Horangi’s hip, completely missing how red that made his face. “I’ll find some shirts you can wear.”

Horangi nodded. “Not many people have seen me like this. Don’t tell anyone, yeah?” He looked up at him, mostly undressed with his hair rumpled. The only real covering a pair of boxers a size too big and bandages. 

“I’d never tell a soul.”

König was pulled away on the fifth day and the sixth. He supposed he shouldn’t have expected to get to spend an entire week doting on his new toy. Even if Horangi was without a doubt the most fun thing he had had for a while. 

König kept his hood on. It was the easiest way to make himself not anxious as he talked with Horangi again. 

Someone else had been feeding him and he wondered briefly if someone else had bathed him. He hadn’t told them to, but he hadn’t told them not to. Horangi could probably do it on his own, König only did it that day because he was a little too drugged up. No better fucking have. The thought made König’s stomach churn. 

He had someone else bring Horangi to him. He tried to look intimidating or at least mafia boss like. Something better than what he felt like he was. 

Horangi knew immediately. The height gave it away and he blushed. He shrank down a bit, swallowing. “Ah…”

“I’ve decided you will be my bodyguard.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Sir?

König wasn’t sure if he liked that. He wasn’t sure if he liked that at all. “Horangi. No need to be like that. We’re friends, ja?”

Horangi nodded a little, looking more nervous than he had been when he was first at König’s mercy. 

“No need for formalities.” König didn’t understand where this nervousness was coming from. Nor did he understand where his own confidence did. It felt unnatural. 

“Why didn’t you wear the hood around me?”

“Did I need to?”

Horangi didn’t seem to understand the question, but he nodded nonetheless. “So, I really am just for show. Arm candy?”

“Something like that.” This was better. Horangi got over whatever stumble he had there and went back to his cool, confident self. König liked it. Good quality to have. “First job is tonight. Meeting at a casino. You’re not going to be playing any games, understood?”

Horangi nodded. “Can I have a mask too?”

“Yeah. Sure.” König smiled. This was going so well. 

Horangi was currently trying to fix this person, this tall and cruel looking person, with the shy caretaker he had. They were clearly the same person. The eyes gave it away and the height confirmed it. With the hood on, he looked different in a way that was hard to put into words. His posture more tense and his body held with a poise that normal König didn’t have.

König. 

Name made sense now. 

He got his mask and quickly covered up. The scarring was hideous. Still fresh. He was not looking forward to the period of time where they’d harden and turn red, but hopefully they’d fade to white soon. Maybe he’d get lucky and they wouldn’t actually scar, just heal. He doubted it with how deep they had been cut into his skin, but would could hope. 

Horangi still didn’t get why he was chosen for a bodyguard. Besides a little street fighting in Korea to make extra cash or defending himself, he didn’t actually know that much about fighting. He had considered joining the military but hadn’t at the last minute. And again, König clearly didn’t need him. There was something else here. Some purpose he served that he just wasn’t getting. 

Regardless, he accompanied König, feeling a little funny standing next to him now. Before, despite his height and build and how attractive he was, he was just a guy. Random employee. It felt different now. He shouldn’t just be standing next to him. 

It didn’t help that König was wearing a suit. It looked stunning on him and Horangi knew he’d need to get sunglasses so he could stare next time. 

König was not very good at cards. It translated to him making virtually no bets and barely paying attention to anything he did. Horangi tried not to correct him whenever he made a mistake. He was talking to someone in German and, seeing as he only knew what German he did from Duolingo, he couldn't really keep up. 

Horangi tapped König’s shoulder and made a sign that he was going to step away. He needed both a drink and to use the bathroom. 

A different man appeared as he was washing his hands. Horangi looked up at him, glad he had the mask on. Neither talked as they washed their hands. 

He said something in German and Horangi had to stare blankly before he tried English. “You here alone?”

“No.” 

“Ah, partner?”

“Nope. Boss.”

The man nodded and dried his hands. “Will business keep you busy all night?”

“Yes.” Horangi left. He followed. It made him a little irritated. “Listen, buddy. I appreciate the interest, but I can’t.” 

“Who’s your boss? I’m a pretty important person around here. I’m sure he’ll understand.” 

“I don’t want your attention.” Horangi said rather firmly. 

His face changed before he grabbed Horangi’s shirt collar. “Listen up, you little…” He paused and looked up. “Ah. Leon.” 

König growled. “Arthur.”

“Didn’t realize he was with you. My apologies. Though, if I’m allowed to borrow him…”

“You’re not allowed. Nor are you allowed to be touching him.” 

Arthur’s hands dropped. “No hard feelings right? He’s pretty and new. You know I like to touch other people’s things.” 

König stepped around Horangi rather politely before slamming his fist into him. Horangi expected that to be it but they were on the floor before he knew it. He just kept hitting him. Blood start to stain the ground and Horangi looked around, expecting panic or someone to grab him. Everyone just watched. Some of them looked almost amused, like König did this often. Maybe it did. Horangi put his hands on König to pull him away but as soon as he did, König stopped and got up. He yanked Horangi along. 

Horangi sat in the car, trying to process what he just saw. König’s hands were still bloody and it had gotten on his hood. There was an overbearing silence. It wasn’t the violence that caught him off guard. It hadn’t been the worst thing he had seen. More the suddenness. There hadn’t really been a reason why.

His hands flexed and Horangi’s attention narrowed down to that point and only that point. He had a hard time breathing. 

Horangi glanced at König and saw him staring back. The hood kept him from seeing anything but his eyes. Gorgeous blue that stared into him almost accusatory. A warmth twirled around his guts but he tried to ignore it. 

“I would’ve gotten the guy. You didn’t have to defend me.” Horangi hissed, deciding to beat König to the punch on being angry. 

König just continued to stare at him. 

“It’s my job to protect you.” Horangi insisted. 

König sighed. “Hong-jin.” 

Hearing his actual name was like getting punched in the gut. He didn’t even know how König would know it. 

“This is affecting you.” 

“I watched you beat a man to death. Yeah, it’s gong to rattle me.”

König tilted his head. “No. That’s not what I mean. Your pupils dilated and you’re breathing faster. If I told you to spread your legs, I have a funny feeling there’s even more signs of how turned on you are.” 

Horangi stared at him, trying to ignore that he was in fact hard. He bit his bottom lip, glad that his mask covered it up for him. Where had all of this confidence come from? Where was the anxiety riddled medic he had been dealing with?

Who the fuck was he?

König sighed softly. “Horangi. I’d never force you to do anything.”

Horangi’s breath got faster at the gentle tone and the words. 

“Do you want this?”

“Yes, sir.” Horangi answered a little too fast. 

König clicked a button and the privacy screen came down to cover the partition. It meant the chauffeur wouldn’t be able to see whatever happened. 

Horangi swallowed and wondered if he could tell König what he wanted and didn’t want. Should he tell him now? Would König care? 

The man himself had moved closer while he had been distracted. He cupped his face gently and then pulled off Horangi’s mask. König traced the little tally marks with a weird amount of reverence. He followed along Horangi’s lips next and he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin. 

Then, König moved to his throat, gently running his fingers along the column of it. His hand circled his throat and Horangi felt… small. König’s hands were rather big compared to him and he tried not to think about that too much, but they were huge. His other hand started to undo the buttons on his clothes to expose more skin to him.  

Horangi let out an embarrassingly soft noise. He couldn’t help it. König smiled at him and Horangi pushed his mask down and his hood up just enough to kiss him. They laid against the seats and König bit Horangi’s lip hard. 

His hands finally got Horangi’s clothes off and they ran down his sides, making him have goosebumps. His legs were pulled open and then König was finally touching him. He was so gentle as he stroked him but it felt… a little calculated.

Horangi didn’t care though, thrusting up into his hands and letting himself stay pinned. König twisted his hand slightly whenever he got close to the tip and he seemed to get a lot of enjoyment over watching Horangi get worked up. 

Horangi panted softly, trying his best to stay quiet as he realized that just because the driver couldn’t see them, it didn’t mean he couldn’t hear him. His toes curled and his back arched right as he ca- 

König paused his movements and pinned Horangi’s hips so he couldn’t thrust up. 

“What are you doing?? I was close.” Horangi wiggled as he tried to finish but he could barely move.

König waited a minute before spitting on his fingers. He gently pushed them into Horangi again. “There ya go, kitten.” 

Horangi groaned and spread his legs more. He managed to hike one of his knees onto König’s shoulder to give him a better grip on him. Once again, he felt himself getting close but König kept messing it up. He’d pause or slow down or pull away and Horangi had to fight himself to stay still during the prep. 

König stopped touching his cock all together, focusing on getting him stretched instead. Horangi groaned and panted softly. He was right there. Right on the fucking edge but it wasn’t quite enough. 

König pressed into his prostate and Horangi saw stars. The world blurred around the edges and he felt König pull away and the sound of a cap. He slammed into him, holding him down so Horangi could do nothing but take it. 

König was so rough. Horangi’s nails raked down his back. Pleasure sparked up his body and he arched, desperately pressing to König’s clothed chest. The feeling of his suit against his skin and pressed against his cock. 

“You want to finish don’t you?” König purred into his ear and Horangi nodded frantically. “Swear yourself to me.”

“What?” Horangi was right there. One touch and he’d finish. His arms were pinned so he couldn’t do it himself. 

“Swear to me that you’ll be mine. Forever.” 

Horangi started to tear up, unable to take anymore without finishing. His entire stomach was in knots and he couldn’t take anymore. “Please. Please.”

“Swear.” 

“I’m yours. Yours. Please, please, please.” 

König grabbed him and stroked him in time with his movements. 

White filled his vision and he relaxed before starting to squirm as overstimulation set in. König didn’t even pause, just continuing to fuck into him like a doll. 

Horangi gasped and tried to turn away. König flipped them around and pressed right back into him. He fucked him hard but the new angle let him go even deeper. It felt like he was being rearranged and broken in, made just for König now. Horangi gripped the seats and tried to focus on breathing as he felt himself start to get hard again. Tears streamed down his face from how good it felt. 

They were a perfect fit. König stretched him out perfectly and judging by how fucked out he already sounded, König agreed with him. It felt so good, pleasure clouding his thoughts. 

Horangi started to get close and he clawed at König’s arm that was around his chest. He was yanked up and one of his legs were shoved to his chest, König still taking him from behind. His nails dug deeper into his skin when he came again. He let out a sob as König’s hips stuttered but went right back to moving. 

“Fuck, I can’t… I don’t think…”

“I wasn’t asking. Either take it or tell me stop.” König growled at him. 

Horangi didn’t ask him to stop. His legs were trembling as König continued to fuck into him. It was a few minutes later when König came in his fucked out body. He went to touch him to finish him off but Horangi shook his head. He dropped Horangi back onto the cushions. 

Horangi trembled, gasping a little. Tears were still streaming down his face when König lifted his hood to kiss him. König redressed him and scooped him up. 

“Let me take you inside.” 

Horangi nodded and winced. “You don’t think they heard me did they?”

König also winced. “Uh…”

Horangi hid his face in the cushion, so embarrassed. “Oh no…”

[notveryimpressed]

Part 1

Supervillain's mind began to race with a mix of anger and confusion. How dare that superhero attempt to flirt with their scientist? They were their scientist, and nobody else's! The supervillain's jealousy and possessiveness surged through them like an electric current.

With a sinister smile, the supervillain decided to play along, biding their time until the right moment to strike. "Ah, my dear scientist," the supervillain purred, stepping closer to them and resting a gloved hand on their shoulder. "I must say, your grace and poise never fail to impress. But it seems we have an uninvited guest in our little dance."

The scientist, unsure of the underlying tension in the room, glanced at the embarrassed superhero who was walking away with a perplexed expression. "Oh, uh, I didn't realize they were trying to flirt," the scientist replied innocently. "But let's not allow any distractions on this crucial day, shall we?"

"Of course," the supervillain said, their smile never wavering, though their eyes glinted with malice. "No distractions will be allowed. In fact, I have a proposal for you, my dear scientist. How about after this meeting, you join me for a private celebration? I'd love to discuss some new inventions I have in mind."

The scientist hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of excitement and unease. The supervillain had always been alluring and charismatic, but they were also well aware of the evil deeds committed by this enchanting figure. Nevertheless, the scientist agreed, "Alright, I'd be interested in hearing about your new inventions."

As the Council of the Supers continued its proceedings, the supervillain's mind raced with the sinister plans they had in store for the council members. But they also couldn't ignore the feelings they had developed for their brilliant scientist.

The supervillain and the scientist found themselves alone in the sunlit conference room. The supervillain's smooth façade slowly crumbled, revealing vulnerability beneath their villainous exterior. "Listen," they began, looking away for a moment before locking eyes with the scientist, "I know I've been harsh with you, pushing you to create weapons and devices for my villainous schemes. But there's something else I want now, something more than power or destruction."

The scientist watched with curiosity and concern as the supervillain opened up, revealing a side they had never seen before. "What is it that you want?" the scientist asked, their defenses softened.

"I want you," the supervillain admitted, their voice barely above a whisper. "I want you to stay with me, by my side. I want to protect you and make you happy. And in return, I promise to change, to be better, for you."

Caught off guard by this unexpected confession, the scientist's heart skipped a beat. They had never imagined that their arch-nemesis, the supervillain, could harbor such complex emotions. Despite the darkness surrounding them, the scientist could see a glimmer of hope in the supervillain's eyes.

"I don't know if I can trust you," the scientist replied honestly. "

The supervillain nodded, understanding the scientist's hesitance. "I know I don't deserve your trust just yet, but I'm willing to prove myself. Let me show you a different side of me, a side that cares for you deeply," Supervillain inhaled deeply and before scientist could reply, they told, " Also, I need your help in chopping off a few heads."

[delta-pavonis]

July Kinkfest Day 6: Drummer/Dancer AU edition!

The Sandman || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 1062 words

Prompts: Praise Kink | Bruises | “Anyone could walk by and see what a little slut you’re being right now.” 

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): sexual harassment, possessive Hob, semi-public sex, marking/biting kink

Author's Notes: It was more difficult to get all three prompts in here than I thought it would be. And the last one is paraphrased (hence not bolded, but also not crossed out). And, yes I am over 1000 words, BUT it gets you sassy Desire+Hob banter at the end, so I had to do it.

"You needn’t have come to my defense." Morpheus sighs, gathering the components for the healing spell for Hob. Two stunning black eyes have already bloomed on his lover’s face as a result of his need to be Morpheus’ savior, he doesn’t need to suffer any longer than necessary. “It happens quite often.” He murmurs the incantation while holding the components, then presses his fingers to Hob’s face just as the other man is opening his mouth to reply. “And no, of course that doesn’t mean it should happen at all, but the fact of the matter is that it does and I no longer think much of it. And neither should you.”

They had met another caravan just at the edges of the Southern Wastes and so, as tradition dictated, they made camp and made for revelry. The other group had been primarily sellswords, with the temperament and manners to match every possible stereotype therein. So, well into their cups, a few of them had started making lewd comments, heckling Morpheus and the others as they danced. And Hob had held steady, continuing his drumming through it. But then one particularly brash idiot had smacked Morpheus' ass as he passed by and… well. Hob is apparently willing to use his hands to back up the possessive he uses when calling Morpheus his Dream.

Morpheus would never admit out loud that Hob's response thrills him, makes him feel justified in his disgust at the sellswords' behaviors and makes him feel like he is something worth defending. 

“I refuse to let people think that they can get away with treating others like that, whether it is you or not.” Hob’s voice is becoming less nasal by the second as the broken bones and cartilage reset themselves. “It was just worse that it was you.”

Hob is giving Morpheus a look that he can't interpret. "What?" He finishes putting away the odds and ends of the spell and turns to his lover. "You want congratulations?" Morpheus pitches his voice up a register. "Oh, thank you, Robert Gadling, my hero." He puts the back of his hand to his forehead and swoons into Hob's lap, which gets the slightest hint of a smile, the crows' feet at the corners of Hob's eyes just beginning to appear. This only encourages the bard. "Thank the Nine you were here or whatever would I have done? I am so helpless and vulnerable!" He bats his eyelashes at Hob and that does it, the drummer cracks, a rolling laugh bubbling up.

Hob's arms wrap around his Dream's waist and he pulls him into a kiss. "Alright, alright. I get it. Point made. You aren't some pampered damsel." He tugs on Morpheus' hips until he is straddling Hob's lap on the medic’s exam table. 

"Hob. We are in a public space." Morpheus knows that his words contrast strongly with how he arches into Hob's mouth on his collarbones. "Hob!"

"You taste so good. All for me." Hob murmurs into his skin, seemingly ignoring Morpheus' protest. The bard's hands are in Hob's braided hair and he is rolling their hips together. "So good for me, my Dream." The breathy words curl around Morpheus' neck and he can't stop the whine that slides out through his clenched teeth. He desperately wants to be good for Hob. "Yeah, I know you like that. Just a few words and the right touches and you go all perfectly pliant in my hands. Yeah, that's my good, sweet Dream."

Oh. Oh fuck. Hob has found these weak points in Morpheus’ armor and has zero compunction about using them to his advantage. His hips, his whole body really, rocks into Hob, who grabs his ass in both hands, digs his fingers in, and pulls Morpheus’ cheeks apart through his clothing. Morpheus arches, holding on to Hob’s head, pressing his nose into his sternum, as he ruts against Hob’s chest and lets out a little choked off cry. 

“By the gods, listen to you sing. Choirs of astrals don’t sound so sweet.” Morpheus gasps as Hob just continues, sucking and biting marks into his neck in between sentences. “Nor do they sound so wanton. But you cannot resist, can you?” Morpheus trembles as he shakes his head. No, he has found he cannot resist Hob, cannot stop his body and mind from swaying towards him like a flower to the sun, from listing into each touch like he is starved for it. “Anyone could walk into this tent at any moment and you just want to bounce on my cock like the pretty little whore that you are…”

“Yes!” Morpheus moans and then Hob is lifting him, flipping him, pressing his face down into the table and tugging his pants down his thighs. 

He hears the soft pop of a cork and then slick sounds – Hob’s hand on his own dick, and then ohfuckyes Hob’s oiled hand is on Morpheus’ prick and he muffles his groan by biting his fist. “I keep oil in my pocket now, because of you, my sweet slut, my Dream. Never know when I am going to have to-” Hob thrusts into Morpheus with a grunt “-fill your needy hole.”

This must be what going insane feels like, Morpheus is sure. They fuck fierce and fast and he knows nothing but pleasure and the sound of Hob’s voice behind his ear, whispering filth the entire time. 

When Hob comes he buries himself so deep Morpheus swears he feels it punching a hole in his lungs, rearranging things in the back of his throat. 

"Mark me. Please." He hears himself beg, voice reedy and he is so so close. So close that as soon as Hob's teeth find the meat of his shoulder Morpheus climaxes, head snapping back in a silent scream, body tightening so violently that Hob's seed gushes down his thighs. 

They collapse, panting.

The quiet lasts only a moment and then Epithumia's voice rings from outside the tent. "While we all appreciate Hob's prowess in dicking down our eldest brother, my siblings and I would like to request you restrict your satyric ferret escapades to inside structures with walls made of materials more substantial than canvas."

Hob chuckles, still a little breathless. "Way to be a wet blanket, Epi."

"You've done enough blanket wetting for the both of us, drummer boy..." is the last thing they hear before footsteps fading away.

[television-overload]

'sh-boom' (an X-Files fanfic)

Like usual, I caved and instead of leaving my "someone should write this" post be, I wrote it myself. I'll tag some people that expressed interest in this prompt below the fic! Shout out to @baronessblixen who already wrote the perfect Scully-accidentally-kisses-Mulder fic. You can read that here!

Now, for Mulder accidentally kissing Scully cause he dreams about her all the time.... takes place February 1998, mid-Season 5.

Read on Ao3

There’s a trick to fighting insomnia, Mulder had discovered. Not a cure, by any means, but an improvement, nonetheless. All you need is a super off-limits best friend you’ve fallen stupidly in love with, spend practically every waking hour of the day with her, and then spend the rest of your time thinking about her until your exhausted and delusional mind has mercy on you and blesses you with her presence in your unconscious state.

A foolproof plan, really. Scully had even noticed he seemed more well-rested and happier in the last few weeks, so something had to be working.

Although, there were—he had to admit—a few rather notable side effects.

Despite what others might tell you, Fox Mulder was not one to have trouble distinguishing between fiction and reality. Usually. But in his defense, his dreams were very, very vivid, and there had been a time or two that he’d referred to something Scully had said, only to realize at her blank stare that it was the figment of her in his imagination who’d said it.

“Must have been someone else I was talking to,” he’d awkwardly say, thankful that she kept her mouth shut about the fact that there was no one else he’d have such conversations with, and they both knew it.

He’d also been on the receiving end of more than a few raised eyebrows and patented “what is wrong with you?” looks, which were well-deserved for catching him staring even more than typical. Sure, he was sleeping better at night, but his brain was now trained to find restfulness when thinking about Scully, which was pretty much an all-day thing too. Sitting across from her in their isolated little office for extended periods of time made his eyes glaze over and eyelids droop halfway shut. Oh, the horror… he probably looked like a drunk idiot. He hoped he at least looked somewhat normal, not like a drooling dope with a dumb smile on his face who was clearly not having a productive day at work.

What would old doctor Pavlov have to say about this sorry scenario?

His consolation was that Scully already knew he was weird, and stuck around anyway, so he had no qualms against going home night after night and picking up where he’d left off in Scullyland the night before. Let’s see, he was just about to their son’s first little league baseball game, of which Mulder was the coach, of course. “Scully, don’t forget, we signed up to bring snacks for the team after the game.”

Behind closed eyes he saw her raise her arm to show him the already packed bag she was holding, an exasperated but loving look in her eye. “Always one step ahead of me,” he said fondly. With practiced ease, they danced around each other in the kitchen of a fairly unremarkable house, grabbing sunscreen, sunglasses, water bottles, keys… “Alright, sport, get in the car! Bus is leaving!” he called out, smiling as the sounds of little footfalls preceded the sight of his freckle-faced son, clad in shiny new baseball cleats.

“Got your glove?”

“Yep.”

“Your bat?”

“Yep.”

“Spitting tobacco?”

“Daaaad…”

“Mulder!”

“I’m just kidding, get in the car, will you? Coach Fox can’t be late, it’s unprofessional.”

“Wait I forgot my seeds!”

A minivan. Perfectly unremarkable. Admittedly, very comfortable, and spacious.

“Fox…” Scully mused with a shake of her head as she buckled her seatbelt.

“What? All the great baseball legends have weird nicknames. I just happen to have been born with mine.”

“The Great Bambino!” a little voice piped up from the back, glancing out the window as they ventured forth into the miles and miles of farmland.

“That’s my boy. ‘Oil Can’ Boyd. ‘Cool Papa’ James Bell. ‘Shoeless’ Joe Jackson. Did you know Lou Gehrig’s teammates called him ‘Biscuit Pants?’”

A giggle from the back seat.

“Alright you’ve made your point.” He loved it when she used that voice, the one that meant she was tired of his antics, but not really. Of course she loved his senseless rambling. She did it too sometimes, albeit with a few more hyper-specific medical terms thrown in there, leaving him unable to do anything other than smile and nod.

When they arrived, they piled out of the van, the messy brown hair of his son—already sweaty somehow, by the way—disappearing into the dugout with a gaggle of other overexcited little boys. “Good luck,” Scully spoke as she planted a kiss on Mulder’s cheek and made her way to the stands, setting up a cushion and portable fan that were sure to be the envy of all the other parents.

The field smelled like grass and dirt and the leather of brand-new baseball gloves just waiting to be broken in. It was a smell straight out of his childhood, of those summer nights on the Vineyard getting eaten up by bugs under the bright lights of the baseball fields. The crack of a ball against a wooden bat. Coming home covered in sweat and dirt and with a kid sister in tow who insisted on playing with the boys.

It was in this dream state where he found peace. Not in the past, but in some amorphous future. A future where he had a family again, a loving home. Where he wasn’t a coward and had a beautiful wife and partner who somehow made everything work. They fought monsters. They went grocery shopping. They filed paperwork with Skinner. He coached little league. They drove to work together. They picked up their son from school.

Baseballs went flying. Teams celebrated their first win. Little boys were tucked into bed, and he kissed his wife goodnight. That’s just how it was.

It was freedom. A freedom he didn’t think he’d felt since his life changed with a flash of light.

In the morning, he’d wake in a haze. With his brain on autopilot, he’d amble about his apartment, brushing his teeth, making coffee, tying on a tie… Caught somewhere in between these worlds of make-believe and reality. It was a benefit of his eidetic memory, he supposed, to be able to remember his dreams and stay in them even after coming to consciousness. Didn’t work out so great when he had constant nightmares, but hey, now that’s been solved too.

Somewhere along his drive to work was usually when reality really set in. He tried to not let it bring him down too much—it was his own fault, after all, that his life bore little resemblance to that which revealed itself in dreams. But he couldn’t help the slight pangs of disappointment he felt when he thought of the lonely couch he slept on every night and the sad state of his fridge.

“Good morning, Mulder,” Scully called out her usual greeting as she breezed into the office.

Mulder’s head lifted off the desk where it had been laying. “Mm—morning.”

Scully chuckled, setting down her bag in her chair and working to remove her heavy coat which she hung on the coat rack. His dream may have taken place in the heat of summer, but it was unmistakably the dead of winter in Washington, D.C.

“Not get enough sleep?” she asked, her amused tone not entirely disguising the genuine concern she felt for him underneath.

“I slept fine,” Mulder answered, “just… still waking up.”

Scully shook her head and let out another low chuckle, taking her seat across from him. She pulled out a file from her bag and began scanning through it, the lamp next to her providing most of the light, as the cloud-covered sky through the skylight threatened to dump a heap of snow on the city.

The day went on like that. Mulder managed to actually get some work done, finalizing some paperwork he’d been putting off (to Scully’s exaggerated shock and disbelief). She, on the other hand, was working on going over some medical reports a field office had sent over for her expert opinion, something that flattered her and made Mulder bloom with pride.

He didn’t even mind that much that they didn’t have a case to work on at the moment. That was another thing that had changed since he’d started indulging in these dreams: he could sit still for five minutes without vibrating out of his skin.

Of course, he’d never stop yearning for the truth, wondering what was out there waiting for him to discover it. But lately, he also found he enjoyed these quiet days where barely a word was spoken between them. It was comfortable. Everything unspoken didn’t need to be said aloud because it was a given—they both knew without saying everything that could possibly be said.

Lunch?

Yes.

Can you hand me a pen?

Sure.

The winter sun set early, and night was well on its way by the time Mulder looked up from his work to check the clock. Sure enough: quitting time. He stood from his desk just as Scully did, making his way over to the coat rack to grab both his and Scully’s coats. She snapped her bag shut with a click as he handed it to her before slipping his arms into his own coat sleeves.

Scully fluffed her hair out from under the collar of her coat. Mulder flicked off the lamp. She draped her bag over her shoulder. He grabbed his own briefcase and circled around his desk toward the door.

“Night, Scully,” he spoke like he did every evening, dipping down to place a quick kiss goodbye on her lips.

He froze.

Lips still touching, he swore he felt his heart stop and his fingers go numb. Somehow amid all the blaring alarm bells and internal screaming, his brain was able to send the signal back away, you idiot! to the rest of his body, and he obeyed, straightening up to look at her with what he knew she recognized as his ‘panic face.’

The only light now was coming from the streetlamps in the parking lot and the gentle snowfall reflecting it down into the office, the dim yellowish light making it difficult to tell what she was thinking. A wiser man would say something, apologize, explain it away, even leave, dang it! Get out of there! But Mulder was frozen. And apparently mute. Just perfect.

The seconds ticked by. Was that clock always so loud? That was it, he’d really gone and done it now, hadn’t he?

A smile formed across Scully’s lips, barely visible in the darkness. She blinked up at him with an oddly relaxed look in her eyes, sparkling in the faint light.

“Night, Mulder,” she replied before patting him twice on the chest above his heart and turning to leave.

It must have been a combination of her words and her touch that eventually broke him from his stupor, because he finally blinked and managed to stumble back to his office chair only to collapse into it, covering his face with his hands and letting out a muffled scream.

What an idiot. What. An. Idiot.

This was the price he had to pay for his risky little endeavor to sleep through the night. Dreaming of Scully had a cost, he should have known it was only a matter of time. He was messing with the delicate balance of things. Mulder and insomnia, insomnia and Mulder. They went hand-in-hand. Trading it in for the much more pleasant musings he had for his partner was too good to be true.

He sat there in horrified, humiliated silence for what felt like hours before finally heading home to what would inevitably be an appallingly horrible night’s sleep.

-.-.-

Mulder hadn’t slept. At all.

He laid awake most of the night staring at the ceiling and mentally berating himself over and over for blurring the lines so much that he’d briefly forgotten he and Scully weren’t actually together. He had every intent to call out of work the next day, and maybe the day after that, every day until he could come up with something to say to make things less awkward between them the next time they’d see each other, but then Skinner called.

His stomach dropped to the floor when the words “I need to ask you something,” crackled through the phone, the gruff voice of his boss sending a chill down his spine. It turned out all Skinner wanted was for Mulder and Scully to check out some reported aquatic dinosaur sightings in a lake in central Kansas, but Mulder still felt dizzy from the adrenaline the initial words had sent coursing through his system.

Against his wishes, he was dressed and in a taxi to the airport before noon, realizing too late that he hadn’t eaten anything either.

As he entered the bustling terminal, he saw Scully standing near the check-in point, dressed in her sensible heels and no-nonsense suit, her suitcase resting on the ground near her tapping foot. She checked her watch and glanced up to the departures sign before scanning the crowd. He winced as her sight settled on him, and picked up the pace.

“Jeez, Mulder, you look awful,” she said by way of greeting.

“Sorry I’m late,” he spoke, hoping to divert any conversation away from what had happened the night prior.

She wasn’t so easily dissuaded, however. “What happened to you? Are you sick?”

It seemed he would have to say something after all. He settled for, “Haven’t had anything to eat.” There. That would throw her off his scent.

Scully’s eyebrows furrowed and she grabbed the handle of her suitcase, beginning to pull it in the direction of their gate. “Well, you can have the other half of my muffin, it’s in my purse.”

He said nothing after that, choosing to follow after her like a lost puppy. They made their way through the metal detectors and had just enough time to get to their gate before they were boarding.

True to her word, just as soon as they’d reached cruising altitude, Scully extracted half a blueberry muffin from her purse and placed it on the tray table in front of Mulder, who was leaning heavily on the wall of the plane, staring blankly out the window. He mumbled his thanks and ate it in 3 clean bites, feeling only slightly guilty for inhaling his food like that in front of her.

Sensing that he wasn’t in a talkative mood, Scully posed a one-word question. “Insomnia?”

Mulder leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

“I thought it was getting better?”

“It was,” he answered, hoping she wouldn’t read into it.

Mulder sat up again, reaching for a book in his bag, but Scully’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. Gently, she pushed him back until he was resting again, forcing his head to the head rest with the soft touch of her hand over his brow.

“Sleep,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

-.-.-

After the rocky start to the day and the awkwardness on his end throughout the flight, Mulder came to the conclusion that Scully was acting perfectly normal, so he might as well do the same. Well, she had kissed him on the cheek, but that wasn’t unheard of, was it? They’d done that before. Sure, it was rare, but she was worried about him. Aside from that, it was as if nothing had even happened, and if Mulder had been just a little more crazy, he might have believed it had all been a dream after all. It wasn’t though, and the touch of her lips on his still burned when he thought about it.

Against his better judgement, on the first night in the motel in central Kansas, he decided to employ his, now patently risky, sleep technique. It didn’t help that his subconscious supplied him with dreams of a family road trip and motels just like the one he was staying in. It took everything in his power not to say, “Wake up, buddy, time to hit the road,” to an invisible—and sadly, impossible—son in the morning. Even harder was it to suppress the words “Morning, beautiful,” from escaping his lips when he first ran into Scully in the lobby.

She seemed appeased that he had actually gotten some rest, at least, when she saw him at breakfast. The day went on without issue. Things between them were… normal. Conditions: good. Weather: frigid. Why they were investigating a potentially cold-blooded creature in the middle of February was beyond him.

He suspected this case would turn out to be yet another wild goose chase. Nothing was living in that water except maybe a very cold and very large escaped alligator from a nearby run-down zoo. Unfortunately, his recent contentment with boring, unexciting cases didn’t seem to apply here. Or at least right now.

To his relief, the local law enforcement decided to handle it themselves and even had the presence of mind to sheepishly apologize for having them come all the way out there. Flights were booked for the next day, following an almost four-hour drive back to Kansas City.

When they arrived back at the motel, Mulder fished out his room key from his pocket and inserted it into the door to unlock it. At the next door over, Scully set her briefcase on the ground before crossing the distance to him right as he turned the handle, stalling him briefly in the doorway. She stood there just long enough to reach up for a quick peck on the lips, the kiss as brief as he had done two nights before.

“Wha—” he mouthed silently, interrupted by Scully’s easy, “Goodnight, Mulder,” leaving him gaping at her in the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob, as she went off to bed.

-.-.-

It was getting harder to tell fiction from reality, and that was tough for Mulder to admit. Scully smiled at him in the morning when she climbed in the passenger seat of their rental car, and for a moment Mulder felt the gnawing feeling that they’d forgotten to put their son in the backseat despite knowing he wasn’t real. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, but that could only help so much.

Her humming half the ride home was straight out of his dreams too, a happy sound that he hadn’t heard much in the months since Christmas and Emily. She even held his hand during takeoff on the plane, not that that was uncommon, but still.

When they finally touched down in the snow blanketed capitol city, she offered to drive him home rather than have him wait for a taxi out in the cold. He gratefully accepted, unable to come up with a valid excuse not to. That was when it happened again.

Once was a mistake. Twice was a fluke. Three times on the lips, and Mulder had some questions. Namely, was he going completely crazy, or did he miss something?

As she pulled up to his building, she put the car in park and stretched across the center console to give him yet another kiss, finishing it with a smile and a, “See you tomorrow, Mulder.”

Unable to tear his eyes away from her lest she fade away like his dreams, Mulder fumbled for the door handle and pushed open the car door, stumbling his way to his feet.

“See you tomorrow,” he managed to respond, in a voice that he felt wasn’t his own.

He started his way toward the entrance to his building in a daze, screeching to a halt when he heard her call out, “Mulder!” through the opened passenger window.

He turned back, croaking out a very eloquent, “Huh?” as he searched for her face in the dark car interior.

“You forgot your bags.”

Oh.

Scully chuckled and popped the trunk for him. He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck and trudged his way back to the car to retrieve his possessions, slamming the trunk shut when he was finished. Scully gave a wave out the window and took off into the night, and for a second night in a row, all he could do was stand there and blink in the direction she had disappeared.

-.-.-

Calling out of work would be useless, it wouldn’t help the issue at all. He was more confused than ever, but Scully seemed to be perfectly fine, so it must be his own problem. What if he’d somehow manifested his dream life into his waking one, that by some mystical force, certain elements of it were slipping through into reality? He could open an X-File. Test out his powers of manifestation—if he didn’t completely lose his grip on reality in the process.

In his dream last night, they’d celebrated her birthday, and now he couldn’t remember if they’d already done so, or if he ought to get started on planning something in real life. What day is it again? It was driving him crazy. Crazier than usual.

He would just have to talk to her. Ask her what was up with all the kissing, not that he minded. But was that actually happening? Was he imagining things? If he brought it up, would they go back to what it was like before? Would it get worse? What if he kissed her again? This time on purpose?

Every time he went to say something, his mouth opened and no sound came out. He was sure she’d notice at some point. How embarrassing. Hours ticked by, and before he knew it, it was the end of the day. An epic fail, as far as his attempt to talk to her went.

He stood from his desk with a sigh, resigned to another day of confusion tomorrow, and started toward the door with his bag and coat in tow.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” her voice called from behind him, and there she was, standing by his desk, arms crossed expectantly over her chest. That eyebrow. That darn eyebrow was doing its thing too, what does she mean by that?

“Scully?” he asked, brain tired and worn out from a tumultuous week.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she asked again, uncrossing her arms and shifting in that way that exposed her well-masked nervousness. It was the first sign he’d seen that he wasn’t losing his mind, this really was unusual. And she knew it too.

Eyebrows furrowed, he walked toward her until he was standing right in front of her, desperately trying to read her expression as he looked down at her. Her eyes met his with determination, deliberately holding eye contact when every cell in his body screamed Danger! Run away! There was hope there, too, but Mulder didn’t want to guess what that hope might be for. This was not the moment for guessing.

She was still looking at him expectantly, though, and he couldn’t think of anything else.

Slowly, giving her plenty of time to move away or shoot him if he’d read the situation wrong, he bent toward her, placing one hand over her elbow and the other brushing lightly over the hair covering her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing hitched, and there! She was leaning forward too! Not quite standing on tiptoes, but stretching to meet him, nonetheless.

Taking this as a good sign, he closed the rest of the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, holding them there for one, two, three, four, five seconds before pulling back and letting his arms drop to his sides. His eyes remained tightly shut, afraid to open them and see the disgust or annoyance that would surely greet him.

He swallowed past a lump in his throat, his face pinched in concern, but he dared not move. After a moment, he felt two hands cup his cheeks on either side, the thumbs brushing out the lines of tension around his eyes. Something about the motion coaxed his eyes open, and what he saw wasn’t disgust or annoyance, but a content and relieved smile on the face of his partner.

He was entranced.

“Goodnight, Mulder,” she spoke softly, the same words from the other nights, but with a considerable amount of weight that hadn’t been there before. After a moment more, she began to pull away, and Mulder felt his heart stutter. Without thinking, he stopped her, grabbing her by the upper arms and pulling her to him. His eyes fell shut again as he dove toward her lips, stopping short by a few inches and pressing his forehead to hers instead.

“What is this?” he whispered, desperate to know, needing to put a name to it.

She let out a breathless laugh. “I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“Am I dreaming?”

She laughed again, and man, what he would do to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.

“I just thought you’d decided to institute a new goodbye ritual, and went with it.”

It was Mulder’s turn to smile in amusement. He hummed.

“No, I’ve dreamt of this,” he murmured, nuzzling her forehead with his. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“If you are, then what does that make me?”

“I don’t know. If not crazy, then what other option is there?”

Reaching to cup the back of his neck, she pulled him ever closer, her next words brushing against his cheek. “I can think of something.”

His eyes opened to see her staring back at him, a flood of emotions he wasn’t sure he could name dancing there, reflecting identical ones in his own. Uncertainty gave way to resolve, and he hoped she would lend him some of hers, because he would surely need it.

He knew it was coming, and still it blew him away.

This time, her kiss was slow… purposeful. He melted into her, pulling her closer with an arm clutching to her waist and the other hand splayed across her shoulder blade.

The fog in his brain prevented him from determining how much time passed, but eventually they had to come up for air, identical smiles gracing their faces.

“I think I know what this is, Mulder, and I think you feel the same way. But if I’m wrong, this is going to be really awkward.” Her words were spoken with laughter, but there was an underlying sense of doubt. Doubt that by no means had any place there.

“No, I think you’re right,” he answered, cupping her cheek with his hand. “I think you’ve got it figured out.”

Her eyebrow went up again and a teasing smile played on her lips. “Can I get that in writing, or…”

He grinned and pulled her to him once more. “Oh, shut up.” And he kissed her.

---

Tagging @agent-troi @welsharcher @hippocampouts @invidiosa @whovianelle @captainsolocide @randomfoggytiger @today-in-fic

[2baddiesfanfics]

From Liyue With Love

Pairing: Beidou x Ningguang

Tags: Birthday, Valentine's Day, Birthday Sex, Presents, Scissoring, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering

Summary:

Beidou has always been more partial to Valentine's Day than the other event that happens to fall on the same date. Ningguang wants to change that. In the end, they discover they've both got the best gifts either of them could hope for.

Read on Ao3

The chain of the gold necklace shimmered as Beidou held it up to the light of the mid-day Liyue sun. She’d stopped at Mingxing Jewelry to pick up the Valentine’s Day gift she had special ordered for the Tianquan who held her heart. Over the years she had imported many ores and gems one could only find from the furthest reaches of Sumeru to the deepest seas of Fontaine just for Xingxi’s store.

“Is it to your liking, captain? I admit, I took a few liberties with the instructions you left me,” Xingxi stated hesitantly.

Beidou ran her thumb across the small heart-shaped pendant, the cold stones chilling her skin. The two halves glistened in their respective signature colors - amethyst for her electro, citrine for Ningguang’s geo.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered. “Thanks, Xingxi! Knew I could count on you.”

The shopkeeper smiled gently. “I’m so happy to hear it.”

Beidou plopped a sizable sack of mora on the counter but was taken aback when Xingxi pushed it toward her.

“Captain, I appreciate that you think so highly of my handiwork, but I fear this is far too much. Half of that is more than enough. Consider it a birthday discount,” she replied with a wink.

She blinked, unsure of how to respond. If she didn’t have Ningguang in her life, today would be like any other. Commemorating Valentine’s Day was fun for many reasons. Beidou relished any chance she could get to show the Tianquan what she meant to her. The other yearly occurrence that happened to be on the same day…she had never seen a reason to celebrate.

Beidou swallowed back the dark emotions that threatened to burst forth. “Gee… thanks, Xingxi. Wait a second…how did you know it was my-“

The shopkeeper let out a chuckle. “Captain…how could I not? It’s all Lady Ningguang has been talking about for days.”

With a blush spreading across her face, Beidou nodded her head in gratitude and started the lengthy trek to the Jade Chamber.

“Captain Beidou! It’s so nice to see you here,” Baishi said suspiciously loud. She had greeted her right before the doors to Ningguang’s office, which Beidou found unusual.

“Uh, yeah, you too, Baishi. Is the Tianquan in?”

The secretary looked nervously over her shoulder. “Um…she’s a little-“ A loud crash came from the other side of the door, and Beidou looked ready to rush in.

“Ning? Are you okay in there?”

A swirl of platinum blonde hair appeared in the doorway. “Yes, captain, everything is quite alright. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some…business to wrap up. It’ll only be a few minutes.”

Beidou cocked an eyebrow. “You sure you’re good?”

Ningguang stared daggers at her. “Do you mean to insinuate I don’t know what I’m doing, captain?”

She held up her hands in defense. “Not at all. Continue,” she said with a smug smirk.

After passing the time chatting with Baishi, Beidou was relieved to hear Ningguang’s voice echo through the double doors once more.

“You may enter now. Baishi, please let Baiwen and Baixiao know you are all free to go home for the evening.” After a quick “goodnight,” the woman left to find her coworkers.

Beidou swiftly entered the room and was caught completely off guard by the sight before her. Ningguang had donned a dark blue strapless dress that sparkled like moonlight on the ocean’s surface.

A quiet “wow” was the most she could manage. Her attention was quickly directed to the table behind her, however. It had been set for dinner, complete with a tall glass of Beidou’s favorite lager imported from Inazuma. The scent of flash-fried filet, her favorite dish, wafted through the room, making her stomach growl.

“Baobei…did you…did you cook all this?”

Ningguang glided over to her side. “I may have asked Chef Mao’s girl to walk me through some things, but yes,” she answered as she took Beidou’s hand in hers. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Beidou felt the room spin around her. The weight of such careful planning hit her in full force.

“What’s wrong? Is it not to your liking?”

She hadn’t realized tears had started to drip down her cheeks.

“No! Archons…no. I love it. It’s just…I’m not used to this. I’ve always associated my birthday with wishing I hadn’t been born.”

Ningguang’s grip on her hand tightened. “How could you say that, Beidou?”

The captain wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I mean…Valentine’s Day is much more important, don’t ya think? I’d rather celebrate love than a curse like me.”

A look of intense sorrow came over Ningguang. She leaned her forehead on Beidou’s, forcing her to make eye contact. “You are not a curse, dear heart. Those villagers were ignoramuses who believed in mumbo-jumbo bullshit. Please. Let’s celebrate you tonight, hmm? I can think of no one more deserving,” she said as she took her by the hand and led her to the table.

“Well, one thing’s for sure. I’m not about to let this go to waste. Thank you so much, baobei.”

Ningguang smiled at the return of her signature sense of humor. The women sat down and thoroughly enjoyed every last bite as they chatted about their respective weeks.

“Whew. I couldn’t eat another bite! My compliments to the chef. You sure you don’t want to join my crew and cook for all of us?”

Slightly buzzed on her own glass or three of wine, Ningguang let out a hearty laugh. “Oh please. It was one dish! But I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Chugging the rest of her beer, Beidou let out a satisfied sigh. “Shame there’s no dessert, though. Could really go for something sweet after this.” She shifted her hooded gaze to lock eyes with the Tianquan. Ningguang had been with her long enough to recognize this was a different kind of hunger.

“Who said I didn’t have something prepared for your sweet tooth?” She replied seductively as she got up to get closer to her. “Did you honestly think this was all I got you?” Ningguang hiked her dress up as she positioned herself to straddle her lover’s lap. Beidou’s eyes drifted to the garter straps peeking out from under the fabric and had to control herself from ripping them off with her teeth.

“You mean there’s a feast after the feast?” She asked, lips already wandering across her chest and up her neck.

“Hmmm…it’s prepared. You just have to devour it,” Ningguang half-moaned.

“Then don’t mind if I do,” Beidou said as she grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her effortlessly. Their mouths locked as the Tianquan wrapped her arms around her neck for support. The captain knew the way to the private sleeping quarters of Ningguang’s office like the back of her hand and carefully navigated around the stacks of scrolls that always seemed to inevitably accumulate.

Once she made it to the bed, she set her down and crawled on top of her, continuing to show her gratitude by attending to every inch of her body. Her dress was far too beautiful to remove, so she worked around whatever skin was left uncovered.

She was delectable in so many ways, and Beidou couldn’t help but repay her kindness in the only way she knew would come close. As she situated herself between her thighs, she shifted the fabric of her dress up to her hips to provide her with enough access.

Ningguang could only let out contented sighs and groans as the captain took her time savoring and teasing her. Beidou kissed her inner thigh, causing her to spread herself wider in anticipation. Whether this was a gift for Beidou or Ningguang, neither of them cared. They were lost in each other. Finally, the captain moved the crotch of the Tianquan’s panties to the side and tasted the unique but familiar flavor of her arousal.

“Archons…Beidou, your tongue feels so good…”

“Louder for me, baby. Let me hear how good I make you feel,” she commanded before swiveling it inside of her. The buck of Ningguang’s hips drove her deeper and caused her to moan. She held them down as she continued the practiced movements she knew would make her come undone. Desperate for connection, the Tianquan covered Beidou’s hands with her own.

“Fuck…Beidou…yessssss…” Between the captain’s muffled grunts and her own mewls of pleasure, Ningguang came with a shudder.

Beidou plopped onto her side next to where Ningguang lay on the bed dizzy on alcohol and her orgasm. The Tianquan rolled to face her and softly stroked the captain’s face with her well-manicured fingers.

“Well, that was just lovely. But I do believe I need to exchange a gift of my own. For without you being born today, I would not have a love worth celebrating. The archons gave me my heart on the most romantic day of the year.” Ningguang leaned in and kissed her with a passion unmatched.

The Tianquan tasted the salty tang of Beidou’s tears. To this day the captain still wasn’t used to this poetic tenderness. Sure, she and Ningguang had been together for a while, but she wasn’t usually this romantic. Beidou placed her hands on her waist and pulled her closer.

Their tongues clashed as hands roamed, divesting one another of any remaining clothing until their body heat was the only thing keeping them warm. Ningguang grabbed Beidou’s leg and placed it on her hip as she moved her hand between the two of them to her drenched core.

“What you lack in words your body certainly makes up for,” she teased as she ran her thumb across Beidou’s clit. The captain jolted in response to the stimulation.

“Ning…” She quietly breathed into her ear sending goosebumps down the Tianquan’s spine.

Collecting her arousal, she easily inserted two fingers into her. Moving them in and out, she slowly stroked her thumb across her sensitive bud in time with her movements. She continued her ministrations as she kissed down Beidou’s neck and across her chest. The captain’s flushed face and high-pitched moaning of her name alerted her she was close. Ningguang sped up her thrusts and crashed her mouth against her lover’s as she spasmed around her.

The two women held each other tightly reveling in the happiness and love they shared.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Beidou quickly hopped off the bed to fish around in the pocket of the bag she had brought with her. Producing a small wooden box, she placed it in Ningguang’s outstretched hand. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baobei. A treasure for my treasure.”

Ningguang rolled her eyes endearingly at the terrible pun. Turning her gaze back toward what she now held in her palm, she pried it open and gasped when she saw the contents.

“B-Beidou…this…this is gorgeous!” She gasped. Instinctively she turned around and pulled her hair back so the captain could do the honors. The necklace was surprisingly light considering the weight of the emotion it held. “I love it and will cherish it forever,” she exclaimed as she took her face in her hands. “Just like you.”

Beidou beamed at her girlfriend’s excitement. “I’m glad. I only brought Xingxi the materials. She was the one who worked her magic.”

Ningguang whipped around to her side table and immediately pulled out her own gift. Beidou couldn’t help but giggle at the ornate packaging that was so very…Ningguang.

“Now, you’ll have to let me know if this isn’t to your tastes. It’s nowhere near as ornate as what you’ve gifted me, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it,” she warned as Beidou began to carefully pull the paper away. Soon, it was revealed to be a beautiful photo album. Pictures of memorable moments decorated each page.

Beidou standing by the Alcor, newly purchased with help from Ningguang. Their first lantern rite together. The time Beidou took Ningguang on a trip to Inazuma to meet the sly fox of a light novel publisher she knew she’d want to do business with. A snapshot of the both of them deep in thought pondering over a chessboard. The rest of the photos started to blur through eyes glistening once again with unshed tears.

“I had that lovely little photographer from The Steambird help me restore some of the old photographs I had lying around. I figured it might help if you had something to look at when you were away on longer voyages.”

“Ning…I don’t have words. This is…this is incredible. And perfect. Just like you.”

The Tianquan smiled mischievously. “And…you haven’t gotten to the end yet. Go ahead and turn a few more pages,” she teased. Beidou did as she was told and was greeted by insanely risqué shots of Ningguang in barely-there lingerie…as well as some with her in nothing at all. She snapped the album shut quickly, her face turning red.

“Holy shit. I’m going to need to go another round after that.”

Beidou crawled on her hands and knees toward Ningguang, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer. She wrapped her legs around Beidou’s waist, their mouths clashing once again.

Their cores aligned, they were both reduced to a moaning mess as their bodies shook with need for one another.

“Baobei,” Beidou groaned between kisses, “You’re the…best gift…I could ever hope to…receive.”

The Tianquan wrapped her arms around her, yanking her closer for added pressure. Beidou moved her hips in time with Ningguang’s, their now over-stimulated buds sliding against one another ferociously.

The sound of ragged breathing, sighs of pleasure, and the gentle rattle of a necklace chain swirled in a symphony throughout the room. The captain slid a hand between them, adding additional sensation to Ningguang’s clit.

“Come with me, love,” Beidou whispered as she held her tightly. The two women once again found release, their movements slowing as their orgasms came to a dull throb.

Ningguang clasped the pendant she now wore around her neck. “Beidou, you’ll have to tell me - what does it feel like to be the richest woman in Teyvat?”

Beidou propped herself up on her elbow as she cocked a curious eyebrow at the woman she loved. “Why, Lady Tianquan…whatever do you mean?”

“Mora is easy to come by. But you own something truly priceless - my heart.”

“Now that,” Beidou said as she placed a kiss on her forehead, “is the best birthday gift I will ever receive.”