#and by earrings i mean feathers shoved into holes he made

[clevercorvidae]

i wanna give jayfeather's design some feather earrings at the top of his ears. they make him feel tall

[happyandticklish]

The Gift of Your Laughter

Notes: I literally pulled this fic out of my ass last night for the holiday so be kind to it ;-; This fic doesn’t technically have a ton of tickling actually in it but you know what I don’t care because anticipation is more than half the fun anyway~ Happy Valentine’s Day, and enjoy a heavily flustered Levi with me~ 

Summary: Erwin knows Levi a little too well. Normally, Levi appreciates this, until it comes to a certain shared interest of theirs. 

It started with a feather, which is what clued Levi in that he wasn’t overthinking it. A brown feather with white spots speckled throughout it and black streaks curving up the inside. It glistened in the sunlight coming in from the window, perfectly innocent on his desk. Erwin—the only person it could be, the only person who had access to his office—had made sure it was placed directly in the center, not wanting Levi to be able to miss it.

He hesitated, as though something was going to pop out of it and attack him, but after a moment Levi picked it up. He pinched the stem gingerly between his fingers holding it up to the light.

Soft. Beautiful. Rare. He brushed a fingertip over the edge of it, allowing the downy tufts to kiss his skin. He wasn’t sure where Erwin would have gotten something like this. He wasn’t even aware there were birds with such elaborate designs still around. 

He looked around for a note, some sign of what it could possibly mean, but there was nothing. Just a feather and a world of questions. Levi grimaced in annoyance. He wasn’t fond of antics or surprises, and Erwin knew that. Whatever game he was playing, he wasn’t in the mood for it and he would be sure to let Erwin know the next time he saw him.

He kept the feather, though. He felt too bad not to. It was too delicate of a thing to simply throw away.

The second one came at lunch, nearly crushed by Levi before he noticed it. It was sitting on a chair, his chair, the chair he always sat at because it was isolated and far away from the noise of the cadets. This one was blue and Levi sucked in his breath helplessly. Blue. It was such an unimaginable color nowadays as the ink was far too expensive to ship in. To see it so blatantly in nature…

He picked it up, placing it carefully beside his lunch tray before continuing to eat with a growing sense of unease. He felt ridiculous for putting so much thought into it, but the gesture was so un-Erwin-like that he couldn’t help but dwell on it. There was yellow in the blue too. Probably, these were collected items from the olden years, before the Titans. It didn’t surprise him that Erwin had them, but this strange scavenger hunt method of gifting them was weird and suspicious all at once.

Finally, at feather number three, he put the pieces together.

The room was mostly Hange’s domain, part of their perverted scientific ‘experiments’ that they liked to execute. It had become less of an office at this point and more of some mad scientist lab mixed with a torture chamber. Levi was supposed to pick up some paperwork from them, but he paused when he entered the room and noticed them..

It wasn’t just feather number three. It was feather number four, five, and six as well, all four of them tied with a string that was dangling out of one of the holes in a pair of rustic stocks. The rush of air from the doorway ruffled them gently, causing them to twist and buffet in the air. Realization hit Levi at the same time that a flush crept its way up his neck and out to his ears.

Oh.

Oh. 

Thankfully Hange was absent, otherwise, Levi would have killed the both of them right then and there to cover up his oncoming embarrassment. He marched forward and snatched the feathers out of the stocks, crushing them in his hands and trying to ignore the way his heart was racing.

He tried to act casual as he made his way back to his office, one hand shoved in his pocket where he fiddled with the feathers. They felt soft. Really, really fucking soft. Anger and humiliation and something else that Levi didn’t want to put a name to rose inside of him at the ploy.

More than anything, however, he tried to stifle the creeping anticipation growing inside him. If he was right, and he sincerely doubted that he wasn’t, Erwin had planned this. Which meant Erwin was waiting, somewhere, to ambush him with this. Which meant that Levi had to choose whether or not to confront him or hide like a coward.

It really wasn’t a fair decision.

By the time he reached the door he felt jittery like he’d just pulled an all-nighter, his body tense with nervous energy.

It’s just tickling, he told himself, hand wavering over the knob. It’s just fucking tickling so get a hold of yourself. At least in your office, you’ll be safe so stop freaking out.

He pushed open the door determinedly and froze when he saw Erwin casually sitting in his chair.

“Levi.” He looked unfairly calm for how rattled Levi felt. “I see you got my message.”

He hadn’t realized he was still messing with the feathers. He stopped, pulling his hand out and glaring at him. “You’re in my spot.”

An arched brow. “You want to trade places?”

The implications of it sent a thrill running down Levi’s spine. Sitting down, strong arms wrapping around him, fingers crawling ever so softly up his sides, a voice whispering in his ear—

Instinctually, he glanced towards the open door and Erwin followed his gaze. “I’ll just catch you, you know. It would serve no purpose but to draw this out and make things worse for yourself.”

He was being so unbearably smug about this and Levi wanted to punch him for it. Instead, he settled on trying to shove down the smile begging to make itself known on his features, and focused his efforts towards survival. Erwin was right. There was no way he could outrun him even if he wanted to and right now Levi didn’t trust his body not to betray him into Erwin’s awaiting hands.

Still.

There was no way he was just gonna take this gift disguised as punishment.

Erwin’s chuckle rang out behind him as Levi bolted, an affectionate, amused sound that sent goosebumps prickling up the back of his neck. He slid around a corner, years of training kicking into gear as he expertly navigated his way through the building. He could hear Erwin pounding behind him and panic sent him flying down the stairs, skipping half a dozen steps in the process.

He knew he looked stupid as he raced past the barracks, a grown man running for his life and probably alerting half the camp while doing so, but he didn’t care. He could feel Erwin right behind him and his thoughts were betraying him as he imagined what it would be like to be caught, to be grabbed, to have his arms forced over his head—

Nope, no, not going there, not right now, now he needed to focus. Left or right. Dining hall or living quarters. Both public, both dead ends. He cursed under his breath, hesitating a bit too long as he weighed out the decision. Voices of confusion murmured behind him as soldiers recovered from the shock of their captain running for his life, and, more importantly, the last of Erwin’s boot falls landed on the stairs indicating he was catching up.

Levi flung open the bedroom door haphazardly, just barely managing to get inside before the door was shoved open once more. Levi flinched, stumbling back against the wall as Erwin calmly closed and locked the door behind him. Levi silently thanked any deity that was still be remaining that this particular room was absent at the moment.

“You shouldn’t have run.” Erwin looked more amused than annoyed, which wasn’t helping matters. “It’s impolite to turn down a gift.”

“A gift?” Levi scoffed, hating how out of breath he sounded. His gaze darted anxiously about the room, looking for any path of escape. “Is that what you’re calling this?”

Erwin arched a brow. He was taking slow, steady steps towards him that set Levi on edge. “Are you saying you don’t want it?”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Levi thinned his lips together in irritation. He could feel the heat crawling over his features and prayed that Erwin didn’t notice. He didn’t move when Erwin approached him, glaring up into his eyes as he pressed him against the wall.

Stop looking so goddamn helpless already.

“Wrists?”

Levi didn’t move, stubbornness rooting him to the spot.

“Should I make it an order?”

Levi’s gaze snapped up at him before slanting off to the side. “Cheater.”

“As if you didn’t cheat first.”

He felt positively giddy and he hated how much he loved it. Erwin had grabbed his wrists anyway, tugging them firmly up and against the wall. Levi pulled at them to check their hold—breakable, if he wanted. Which only made this worse because now Levi was forced to stand there and just endure it until Erwin had had his fill.

Levi tensed when fingers came to rest at his sides. “Erwin, the cadets.”

“What about them?” A twitch to his sides.

“They’ll hear,” Levi hissed, trying not to squirm already because god would that be embarrassing if one touch of Erwin’s hands was all it took to get to him. “They’ll hear and they’ll talk and the last thing I need is to deal with rumors about us spreading through the whole garrison.”

“Well then…” Erwin’s fingers jumped into action now, skritching and digging into Levi’s sides in a manner that made him want to crawl out of his skin. “I guess you’d better be quiet.”

Levi bit his lip, something that was horrendously close to a giggle nearly slipping past his lips. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was not happening, this was not happening right here, right now, not when there’s a bunch of nosy soldiers standing right outside that room forcing Levi to keep silent despite how ungodly ticklish Erwin’s nails felt against his shirt.

He kind of hated it.

He kind of loved it.

“Oh, and Levi?”

Erwin’s voice was close, his breath hitting the shell of Levi’s ears and making him scrunch his shoulders in defense. Nails slipped under his shirt to get at bare skin as a shiver rippled down Levi’s spine.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

[scara-meow-che]

If requests are open perhaps you could write something for Kaeya for the camboy au?

Reader discovers their friend's little secret, he doesn't know that they know, and takes great pleasure in seeing him being reduced to a slutty subby mess.

I'm just feral for this smug man being reduced to a mess.

i am honestly speechless about this req 😳 please, let me offer myself to you because i love this idea so much, i am 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

kaeya has been your best friend since birth. you two were inseperable, basically like soulmates. you trust him, a lot, sharing him all your stories, crying to him whenever some asshole broke your heart, he would even treat you like a fucking queen, give you what you deserve yet you two never crossed the boundaries, staying in the label as "friends".

but some things had changed right when you two entered college. kaeya became arrogant, overwhelmingly cocky in ways that you can't handle. he changed, a lot, and you hated him for that.

yet fate always keep you two together.

right in the middle of your second semester in university, one of your dorm mates had left. it wasn't like you were affected but it is a problem when you don't have enough funds to keep the apartment to yourself. so you needed to have someone to live with you.

as if the heavens and earth were against your very being, kaeya was looking for another place that can cater to his certain "hobbies" as he called it. and as it goes, he was referred to you and you called him up for a meet up.

and that meet up means you need to face how much of a cocky bastard he is.

but it all worked out, god, you're thankful that he decided to mind his own business and let you do yours. yet living with him feels different, trying to live with how bossy and how prideful he is, everyday was so fucking stressful for you. the fact that you have to deal with your professors bs every minute of the day in university grounds, kaeya makes your apartment a living hell.

until one day, you just had enough.

you knew he was hiding something. there was something that doesn't make sense to you ever since he moved in. there's always a package being delivered weekly, his room reinforced with sound proofing, lights beaming from a set-up of his 3 computer screens the day you caught a glimpse of his room.

and that's when the cat's finally out of the box.

you were going to tell him off, stomping from the kitchen to his room. he may have forgotten to clean up for himself and arriving from university after a very hectic day, you just wanted to rest and you came back home to such a mess?

who wouldn't be mad?

and that's when you saw him, that's when you caught him the act. wearing these blue bunny ears, a collar wrapped around his neck and a dildo shoved inside his hole while moaning in front of the screen. he looks so pretty, making such a fuckin' mess on his bed, his dick twitching in his abdomen as he's close to coming undone. you were shocked, of course, who would've thought that your childhood friend was a camboy?

but at that moment, you were struck by epiphany and immediately knew how to get back to him.

"you sure act so high and cocky out in the streets yet you're a slutty mess behind the screens, huh?" you whispered in his ear, hands sliding down his chest, fingers leaving feather-touches on his nipples.

kaeya trembles in surprise, his cock twitches as he stutters out your name. that sounds so good, unlike the condescending tone he often use on you.

he's such a mess, looking down and saw how much precum had accumulated on the top of his dick, the lube shimmering under the light as he has the dildo shoved deep inside his hole, legs shaking from how close he was to coming but your presence had stopped him.

"aw, you're gonna come? wanna come with just that toy of yours?" you asked, taking in the way his eyes practically begged for you.

"i am, wanna come so badly." you chuckled at how low his voice was, so vulnerable, so cute below you. you sighed, looking at the screen and saw every comment flooding this little box and one had suggested something that caught your full attention.

"what do you say on being my little bunny?"

the question caught him off guard, face flushing darker and that was honestly so adorable, you wanna make him cry soon, wanna break him, reduce him to nothing but a sobbing little whore.

"do you want to be my good boy?"

he nodded, looking at you, showing you the secrets he had been keeping. kaeya had always liked you, he does but this was something that he can't afford for you to see and yet the way you already knew what to do, how to handle him, how to control him with those eyes he loves so damn much, he follows like your good little bunny.

"i do, please, let me be your good little bunny?" he pleaded and that made you desire him in more ways than one.

you started to move around him, going straight to his front and removed the dildo that was keeping his hole full. he whimpered, hands griping on your arms, thighs closing and lips trembling.

"f-f/n," he whispered but you had him groaning when you shoved it back in. he tilted his head back, his whole body electrified at the feeling of the toy perfectly hitting the very spot that had him melting.

"i think i should always fuck you like this," you declared and started your relentless thrusting, keeping the same angle just to hit his g-spot over and over again. "just to stop your mouth saying bullshit every now and then."

your words had him moaning out your name.

"what a masochist," you spat without a hint of care, roughly pummeling on his hole. to pull out more reactions from him, your free hand started jerking him off, thumb swirling at the tip, spreading all the precum on the side, kneeling down to show how much kaeya was writhing in pleasure, all because he's being fucked by you.

"c-close, 'm close, gonna cum for you." he could barely make out those words, toes curling, hips shaking, body folding back as the waves of his orgasm crashes him down before you. he spills so much on your hand, covering your skin with his load. you drive him mad, barely stopping from ramming the dildo on his spasming hole.

"fuckㅡhahㅡtoo much! too much!" you can now see him cry, head shaking that the bunny ears fell down to the side.

and you didn't stop.

"give me one more. i wanna see you come once more." the oversensitivity filling in every nerve on his body took him to a fast paced bliss, his cock barely stopping from shooting so much cum.

he was a mess and so were you.

"f-f/n, hold me, please." he breathed out, his whole form close to collapsing on the bed but you held him. you have him in your arm, brushing away the hair covering his face, smiling at him because of how proud you are for him.

"my sweet bunny. so good for me, huh?" you said while eyeing your other hand smothered with cum. "will you lick my hand clean for me?"

being the good boy that he is, he grabs your wrist and licked you from your palm and suckled on every finger that you have.

"do you know what this means?" with doe eyes, kaeya focuses on you and waited for you to finish your statement. "good boys get their rewards."

you didn't even let him finish cleaning you up as you push him down the bed. you immediately discarded your clothes, leaving yourself bare. kaeya was speechless yet the sight of you naked had him humming in delight.

you placed both your legs besides his thighs, reaching out for his throbbing cock and slowly slides it from your clit all the way to your hole. he was shaking, still sensitive from his orgasm but he's still hard, still craving to be fucked and you'd make sure to milk his balls dry.

"now, hump on me bunny."

[bnhamixjuice-sfw]

ANON REQUEST: Hawks, Dabi and Aizawa: spot an ex he had a bad break up with, he sees her walking around struggling to hold on to a bag of groceries while pushing a stroller with a toddler in it that looks awful lot like them, and the he awkwardly confronts them when the bag falls out of her hands.

Tags: Manga Spoiler, Mention of cheating, Angst to Fluff.

Hawks

“I’m so sorry Dove, I didn’t mean to–”

“Didn’t mean what? to deny that I’m your girlfriend in front of the media ‘cause you had a job agreement with the commission not to reveal me! okay Keigo you’re doing this for what reason exactly? Hero Reputation? More women you can use to cheat behind my back again and expect me to forgive you? I–I don’t want this kind of life anymore!”, you wailed in pure anguish roughly wriggling your wrist away from his firm clutch.

He felt suffocated when he needed to let you go for all the things that he did to hurt you, holding back the urge to chase you outside when you frantically closed the door, not looking back anymore on him. Leaving the top pro hero falling on his knees, lonely between these four walls of his house.

After all this time he can’t forget you, longing to see your face everywhere he goes even on pro hero awarding events or his usual patrol work with Endeavor looking for you through the crowds, praying to see your smile again that he misses the most.

His life was crumbling apart without you, but luck was on his side today when he spotted you not too far from where he was signing autographs for his fans while stealing some glances. As always, you’re still beautiful standing there.

Trying to fix your grocery bags while clasping the baby-carriage’s handle. He hesitated at first to approach you thinking you’re probably waiting for your husband to pick you up and your child. And that’s when a tuft of yellow hair popped out.

“Mommy look it’s Hawks, Awtoglaph pweasee awtoglapph”, his excited pleas reached Hawks’ ears. pointing his fingers towards your ex-boyfriend who waved a hand on both of you.

Soon red feathers clumped together on the ground, preventing your bag to fall.

“Wow what do we have here, a kid full of energy today, so where do you want me to sign your autograph?”, stooping down beaming a smile with his eyes crinkling behind his yellow visor making your child gasp in awe.

He knew instantly that his suspicion was right seemingly looking at his own reflection with those golden honey orbs and black lines on those eyelids and small bump protruding behind the kid’s shirt, red feathers similar to his, messily cramped inside.

“Ke–Hawks here… ”, almost calling out his first name when you handed him a notebook and a pen.

Slightly feeling his gloved hand against your palm.

“Hawks look I hab wings too–”

“Honey we need to go home now or else you’ll miss your favorite show again, now say bye bye to Mr. Hawks”, you interrupted, sneaking a warning glare on him not to tell him anything before gently freeing your child’s wings out from his shirt’s makeshift holes.

“Little fledgling I guess your wings were moulting, so did your Daddy tell you about it”

“Hab no Dawdy but Oh you see… Mommy Lov’ Dawdy so much that she booboo cries” you were shock-stricken softly hushing your child out of embarassment.

“Well kid make sure to tell your Mommy not to cry okay cause Daddy loves her so much, yes don’t forget to tell that to her every day I–”, he stammered with his voice started cracking, overwhelming him with emotions too easily, swallowing the lump forming on his throat.

“Your father loves you too kid trust me, and surely there’s not a single day he’s not thinking of your Mommy, his only Dove–Ah I think I’m taking too much of your time Miss I-I’m so sorry”, halting it immediately, muffling a few sniffles before finally signing his signature.

Your heart began thumping so loud, not expecting him shamelessly grabbing your hand, burying you into a warm embrace in public.

“Wait Keigo stop this, everyone’s taking so many pictures of you”

“No I don’t care anymore, listen Dove I’m so sorry and I still love you, come back to me please I promise I won’t hurt you again, I’ll do better this time just let me make up for it, and for our son”

You can’t blame yourself for giving in, accepting him wholeheartedly knowing this is what you promised to him once.

To never let your future child experience the same heartache he suffered from his past.

Dabi

He regret those cruel words that came out from his mouth the first time he was too fed up of your constant admonishment of putting a rest on his revenge against his family forever since you cannot bear to see him exhausting his body anymore, starting this heated discourse again between you.

“You always bring this up y/n every single day and it’s too annoying already, why are you siding on Enji too much Babydoll… come on just say it you really want us to have a perfect family, so cool to have a child with this debilitating quirk too right?”

Sucking your inner lips anxiously avoiding to tell him something about that last one, you felt his grip on your sholders constricting furiously waiting for you to answer him back, but your tears spilling from those precious eyes made his stomach churn in guilt realizing what he had done when you began screaming on his face that everything’s over, shoving him away and locking the door of your house shut.

He knew how much of a dick he was, the worst break up that’s been haunting him everyday with your terrified face forever etched on his mind

It’s been a long time since the last time he saw you after you moved from your old house and he cannot find you everywhere until today.

He saw you pushing a stroller on the side of the road and having a hard time balancing the bag of groceries on your other hand.

Perhaps you found someone better than him and additionally having a child; a normal child considering he’s not the father. that’s what he thought until something caught his attention.

Squinting his eyes, he was slack-jawed to find a familiar cerulean orbs and red hair on that young boy giddily calling you Mommy.

He took this rare chance of talking to you again by catching your bag of groceries that you clumsily dropped, your eyes met recognizing your ex-boyfriend instantly when he removed his mask. piercing eyes gazing down below observing your child’s similar features.

“Babydoll why didn’t you tell me about him, our son?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dabi and refrain from calling me that nickname anymore, also stay away from MY son before I call the police”

You breathed heavily snatching back your grocery bag from his grasp, clutching the stroller’s handle in pure anger.

“Daddy you meanie, go home”, tugging his pants with those tiny hands.

It hurts you to see your own child begging for his father to go home, when you can’t even tell him how you often show his own picture to your child that’s why he recognized his own father easily, keeping him close to his heart and memory forever.

You can’t hate your only child’s father.

He was expecting him to cry on his intimidating face when he bent his knees down to look at his child closely, ignoring your earlier threat by patting his son’s head seemingly accepting this foreign fatherly instinct.

“Kid look I’m obviously a bad guy, I don’t want you to get in trouble so maybe next time when your Mommy allows me, don’t worry I’ll probably see you again next time pepperoni haired kid”, chuckling when he saw his son’s childish pout, letting him pinch his stapled cheeks annoyed at his nickname.

“Y/n this is goodbye then”, flashing you that thin smile noticing his lips quivering a bit as he stood.

Shoving both of his hands inside his pockets before turning around to walk slowly away from both of you ignoring your child’s tantrum cries calling for him to go back.

“Ssh… sweetie don’t cry okay–Wait Touya!”

He stopped on his tracks when you yelled his real name again, like how you used to call him that before out of endearment.

“We’re going to stay here from now on so same address, the usual okay knock thrice and use our anniversary day on pressing the doorbell and don’t forget our password, listen I’m doing this for our child only so you better show up tonight or I won’t ever give you a chance”

He disappeared quickly after that, and tonight he never failed to show up incessantly ringing the doorbell many times even greeting you that typical password; a kiss.

A yearning kiss, hands intertwining the moment you opened your heart once again.

Aizawa

“Shouta you keep missing my calls these past few weeks when I needed you the most, you barely have enough time to visit me when I was sick the whole week and now you’re late, fine I don’t wanna hear your excuses anymore”

Those bitter words pierced him like thorns, seeing you slip out that engagement ring from your finger and placing it on a table whispering those bitter words he doesn’t want to hear from you.

“It’s better if we end this relationship now before we regret something, I–I can’t imagine my future being married with you or even having a child with you who pathetically seek for time and attention from his workaholic father, sorry Shouta”, you covered your mouth trying to bite back your tongue from spilling about your unborn child.

Running outside the restaurant leaving him heartbroken that he can’t further speak out his words anymore because everything that you just told him was painfully true.

He doesn’t deserve you, blaming himself for not appreciating you enough despite of your effort of enduring the hardships of having a pro hero fiance who often risk his life for his students. A man who can’t even spend a time to take care of you.

Nevertheless, he wanted to mend back those strings that binds you to his heart, always pouring out his loneliness on visiting that Cat Cafe on his day off every week reminding him of memories you two share.

You often take him there to spend a date knowing he’s fond of cats and snapping lots of photos of him every time he ends up sleeping on the corner with cats huddling close to his face nearly suffocating him.

Keeping your engagement ring to him all the time was the only thing that calms him down whenever he’s in dire situation on his job, thinking how much he wish to meet you here again.

Unbelievably seeing you again one time, rubbing his weary eyes once and twice to know if it’s truly you. Indeed, he can’t forget that familiar caring smile of his beloved, finding you outside the cat cafe currently having a problem of organizing your bag of groceries.

“Mawmmy, neko pweasee I wanna touch it!”, your daughter began whinning clapping his hands to get your attention.

He can’t believe his own eyes when your child resembles him too much with that obsidian dull eyes and sleek black hair minus for that pigtail hairstyle but that scowl seems a carbon copy of his own.

“Wait Baby I–”

“I think you need help Y/n”

You were flabbergasted to find your ex-fiance taking a hold of your bag of groceries with his whip that was about to hit the ground and voluntarily offering his Neko tote bag for you which you persuaded him not to.

“Mawmmy pwease I want that too, Neko”, her tiny hands reaching out determined to get it no matter what.

“Baby no–”

“Well your daughter love cats so much, you can give this to her, please just a friendly gift”, taking out something from his pocket leaning down a bit to his side to rummage on that keychain, letting you see his necklace around his neck with that old engagement ring of yours dangling.

“Found it, here kid I’m not sure if you’ll like this”

“Aww Mawmmy have that too um…right Mawmmy, so no thanks Mister”

There’s no way you were married that’s what Shouta suspected when he saw you not wearing any ring, and obviously that cat keychain was closely similar to his anniversary keychain that you two bought for each other.

“Y/n I can drive you two back to your house if its okay–”

“Mawmmy please say yes”

You sighed in defeat not having a choice in the first place and also giving freedom to your child to spend time with her father who doesn’t know about this.

His car was still the same, sitting beside him and your child now sleeping behind after getting so tired ogling on his car’s cat accesories.

You chuckled upon seeing your daughter’s face on the mirror messily drooling, leaning slightly on your side to wipe the corner of her mouth.

“Darling is she our daughter”

“Eyes on the road Shouta, and yes so what will you do about it. Do you expect me to ask for any financial support from you oh maybe spending your precious time for our daughter that I can’t even get from you years ago”, you sarcastically uttered, stabbing him rudely with those truthful words he was unprepared to hear from you.

“I understand if you’re still mad at me y/n, but I just want you to let you know that I want to set things right first before asking you to forgive me. Because I don’t want to miss this opportunity again to tell you how much I wanted to talk to you or maybe to see you in your white wedding dress”

You can’t resist how determined he was to get close to you again, feeling his hand slowly making its way on you.

Giving back that engagement ring to whom it truly belongs, and that was you, a dream he wanted to come true despite it being too impossible.

Turning your head away to wipe your own tears, proposing for the second time that you have been waiting to hear from him all along.

“She’s your daughter Shouta and don’t you dare make her cry of I’ll scratch your face harder than what your cat does”

“That’s too kind of you, I mean my cat misses your deadly belly rub too, you named him Mr. Pickles right, well I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see his Mom again and his new sibling soon”,

You both exchanged soft giggling catching up on one another by starting the conversation about your lives and so on and so forth, and apparently your child was eavesdropping on both of you.

Your daughter muffled a “Pro hero mission success” after accomplishing her goal, peeking a bit to see you wearing that shiny ring.

She knew it the first time she saw that stranger recognizing him from one of the picture you often place under your pillow, her daddy.

Well she did inherit Shouta’s intellectual skills after all.

Do not repost this fic/headcanon.

Disclaimer: I don't own My hero academia nor its characters and plot.

[ask-and-i-answer]

The House on Mango Street

In my English 3 class, we are reading The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. And there is one particular vignette that speaks to me... so ill put it down here, and maybe you too can relate

So here is the vignette, "Sally":

"Sally is the girl with eyes like Egypt and nylons the color of smoke. The boys at school think she's beautiful because her hair is shiny black like raven feathers and when she laughs, she flicks her hair back like a satin shawl over her shoulders and laughs.

Her father says to be this beautiful is trouble. They are very strict in his religion. they are not supposed to dance. He remembers his sisters and is sad. Then she can't go out. Sally I mean.

Sally, who taught you to paint your eyes like Cleopatra? And if I roll the little brush with my tongue and chew it to a point and dip it in the muddy cake, the one in the little red box, will you teach me?

I like your black coat and those shoes you wear, where did you get them? My mother says to wear black so young is dangerous, but I want to buy those shoes just like yours, like your black ones made out of suede, just like those. And one day, when my mother's in a good mood, maybe after my next birthday, I'm going to ask to buy the nylons too.

Cheryl, who is not your friend anymore, not since last Tuesday before Easter, not since the day you made her ear bleed, not since she called you that name and bit a hole in your arm and you looked as if you were going to cry and everyone was waiting and you didn't, you didn't, Sally, not since then, you don't have a best friend to lean against the schoolyard fence with, to laugh behind your hands at what the boys say. There is no one to lend you her hairbrush.

The stories the boys tell in the coatroom, they're not true. You lean against the schoolyard fence alone with your eyes closed as if no one was watching, as if no one could see you standing there, Sally. What do you think about when you close your eyes like that? nd why do you always have to go straight home after school? You become a different Sally. You pull your skirt straight, you rub the blue paint off your eyelids. You don't laugh, Sally. You look at your feet and walk fast to the house you can't come out from.

Sally, do you sometimes wish you didn't have to go home? Do you wish your feet would one day keep walking and take you far away from Mango Street, far away and maybe your feet would stop in front of a house, a nice one with flowers and big windows and steps for you to climb up two by two upstairs to where a room is waiting for you. And if you opened the little window latch and gave it a shove, the windows would swing open, all the sky would come in. There'd be no nosy neighbors watching, no motorcycles and cars, no sheets and towels and laundry. Only trees and more trees and plenty of blue sky. And you could laugh, Sally. you could go to sleep and wake up and never have to think who likes and doesn't like you. You could close your eyes and you wouldn't have to worry what people said because you never belonged here anyway and nobody could make you sad and nobody would think you're strange because you like to dream and dream. And no one could yell at you if they saw you out in the dark leaning against a car, leaning against somebody without someone thinking you are bad, without somebody saying it is wrong, without the whole world waiting for you to make a mistake when all you wanted, all you wanted, Sally, was to love and to love and to love and to love, and no one could call that crazy" (pp. 81-83).

It just- this vignette came at the right time. And now, I can say how I feel about myself and about my perfectionism just by having someone read this vignette. I can understand myself so much better.

[t0th3-ark]

Foreign Shadows

Karl Heisenberg x Reader: Part 1

Warnings: weapons, blood, gore, kidnapping, torture, cursing, sexual content.

"Ethan, you can't be serious?" (Y/N) calls after her friend. "I am serious. She's missing and I'm going to find her." Ethan shouts, over his shoulder, continuing into the woods. "Its getting late, you can't go out there alone." She says, stomping after him. Ethan turns suddenly. (Y/N) bumps into her chest, inhaling sharply. He looks down at her with desperation.

"Then come with me."

(Y/N) walks beside Ethan, arms crossed. They hadn't spoken to each other for at least twenty minutes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Ethan sighs, breaking the silence. "I know this is hard for you." (Y/N) starts, feeling an uncomfortable shiver run down her spine. Someone was watching. "But this wasn't a good idea. We're out here alone, in that dark, with a only a flashlight. I mean this is classic horror story shit." (Y/N) says. "I know, I know." Ethan mumbles. What sounds like a small branch snapping under someone's foot his heard. They both fall quiet. Ethan looks at (Y/N). Shs looks back wide eyed. He glances around, suddenlt noticing lights in the distance. He pulls (Y/N) to him, whispering in her ear. "There are light down the hill. When I tap your arm, we run, got it." He explains, having a feeling of dread in his gut. (Y/N) lets out a shaky breath feeling him tap her arm. She boots.

Ethan is hot on her tail, as they both sprint down the hill. The lights get closer and closer to reveal a small village. "What the hell?" (Y/N) whispers. Ethan doesn't see her stop running and bumps into her, knocking them both to the ground. "Shit!" Ethan says, grabbing the attention of some people walking the street. (Y/N) groans, sitting up, feeling eyes on her. "Ethan." (Y/N) says, patting the ground beside her. He was gone. She stares at the spot of the ground he once was sitting on. Did he leave her? (Y/N) stands, brushing her hands on her jeans. "Ethan!" She whispers harshly. "Dammit." She mumbles, looking entirely out of place in the village. "Are you lost?" Someone asks, from behind her. She turns, quickly. "I don't- I'm not from here." (Y/N) stutters watching the woman's face light up. "A foreigner! How lovely." She starts. (Y/N) doesn't let her finish. "Have you seen a guy, about this tall," She gestures with her hands, "Blonde hair? He was wearing a green jack-" The woman stops her. "I've seen no man. Please come, inside!" She says ushering (Y/N) inside her home. "Wait, but-" The woman sushes her. "I insist! We never get foreigners nowadays." The woman laughs, eerily. (Y/N) swallows, thickly. "Let me go find my husband, and I'll be right back." The woman says, giving her a creepy grin. (Y/N) shutters as the woman leaves. She rushes to the door, opening it. It slams on the wall as she bolts out of the woman's house and into the square. Where the hell was she? What was going on? Where did Ethan go? What was in the wood? Her breath quickens and she glances frantically around the village for an escape. Villagers stop in their tracks, staring at her as if she were a digusting creature. A dull pain, resonates on the back of her skull. She grunts, falling to the ground from the impact. She turns, seeing villager with some heavy object in hand. (Y/N)'s head pounds. Her adrenaline begins to kick in. The man raises his weapon to strike again and she rolls to the side hearing it clank on the brick below her. She kicks the man in the shin, pulling herself up. "Oh no you don't!" The man yells, aiming a shotgun at her. Where did her get that from? "What do you want? What's going on?" (Y/N) roars, anger filling her. "Where is my friend? What did you do to him-" The gun goes off, the bullets piercing her thigh. (Y/N) falls on her back, crying out in pain. Her hands shoot to her injured leg, holding it. Blood seeps onto her hands. She sobs, looking up through her tears at the man. "Mother Miranda will be very pleased to see you." The man says, confusing the hell out of (Y/N). "Please-" The barrel of the gun comes down the hit (Y/N)'s head. 

Darkness.

"Oh, please, that is utter nonsense!" A female's voice booms. (Y/N) winces, feeling cold metal around her wrists. Her thigh is numb and pulsates with her heart. Her head hurts. It's throbbing, aching. She turns to lie on her back. "(Y/N)!" Someone hisses, from beside her. "Ethan?" (Y/N) croaks, quietly. "Thank God. I thought you wouldn't wake up." Ethan says. He's bloody and dirty. "What's going on? Ethan, please tell me this isn't real." (Y/N) whispers. "Ah!" The same female voice says. "They're awake." She chuckles. (Y/N) props herself up against a wall. Oh god. A woman looms above her. She's enormous. She towers over (Y/N) like a tree. She has to crane her neck to see the woman's face. She glances around the room seeing several other figures. Her eyes widen. What the fuck was happening? "Oh, don't be alarmed, darling." The woman, grins. "The worst is yet to come." She says. Someone snorts and (Y/N)'s head turns to see a gruff looking man, smoking a cigar. "What the fuck is going on?" (Y/N) projects, taking all of the strange people by surprise. Ethan feels anxiety bubble in him. "Who are you? What are we doing here?" (Y/N) drills. No one answers. "Answer me, goddammit!" (Y/N) shouts. Cigar man let's out a laugh. It sounded like it came from deep within her gut.

"What's so funny, cigar man?" (Y/N) growls, making Ethan kick her uninjured leg. "Dont provoke them." He mumbles. "Cigar man." The scruffy man repeats. "Don't provoke them?" (Y/N) says lowly. The strange people watch the two humans interact. "Don't fucking provoke them?" She shouts at Ethan, making him flinch. "Some dumbass shot me in the leg and all I was trying to do was get some answers." (Y/N) rants. "You're the one who dragged me out here to find you're precious daughter!" She says raising her hands mockingly. Ethan's face contorts. "Oh so it's my fault?" He says, laughing bitterly. "Obviously! We're in this situation because of you!" She argues, shoving her index finger into his chest. "Me? I'm not the one who-" The tall woman becomes tired of their bickering. "Enough!" She booms, shutting them both up. "Mother Miranda is on her way and she will decide what to do with both of you." She says, obviously annoyed. "I like her." The man says, pointing his cigar at (Y/N). "She's got spunk. Now him," He pauses, pointing to Ethan, "He seems like a pain in the ass, if I'm being blunt with you." He says, ignoring that the two humans were even there, talking to the tall lady. The large woman, sighs heavily. "It isn't your decision, Heisenberg." She says, sitting down. "Now hang on just a minute," (Y/N) says squinting. "Since when am I property?" She glares at all of them. Ethan swallows. "Since you set foot here." A new voice says. It's filled with power. It was quite intimidating. A female figure covered in feathers enters the room. "What the fuck." (Y/N) whispers, eyes trailing her as she walks. The Heisenberg man snorts. Ethan  cowers to the wall behind him. Idiot. 

Miranda stops at the center of the room. "We will decide your fate, from now, forward." She says, speaking with a kind of grace. "So we don't get a fucking say in this?" (Y/N) fumes. "(Y/N)." Ethan says, weakly. "Don't '(Y/N)' me. I don't want anything to do with this! This is insane. It this a joke? Did my mom set this shit up? She's been after me for years. I knew-" (Y/N) is silenced. "Shut your fucking hole and let the woman speak. Damn." Heisenberg snaps. "I thought you liked me, cigar boy." (Y/N) sneers. Heisenberg rises from his seat, suddenly, making her jump. Mother Miranda sighs. "Now you listen to me, princess." Heisenberg growls, stalking over to her. (Y/N) stands her ground, rolling her shoulders back. Ethan starts to shake in fear. He grabs her jaw, roughly.

"You ain't making the fucking decisions around here." He says. (Y/N) tries to pull her head out of his grasp, but he simply tightens it. "Your fate is already layed out for you. So I suggest to cooperate or you will face the consequences." Heisenberg grins. "Get your hands off me you pig!" (Y/N) says, lowly. A loud crack echos inside the room. (Y/N) falls back against the wall, hand to her face. He just hit her. "Learn your place or you won't survive." Heisenberg whimpers. (Y/N)'s eyes sting with tears. Everything hurt and nothing made sense. "Go to hell." She mumbles. "What did I just say-" heisenberg starts raising his voice. "That's a great show you put on for us, dear, but I think that's enough." The tall woman says, boredom in her tone. (Y/N) slumps back against the wall, defeated. It was no use. 

"Ethan Winters." Mother Miranda says. "Your fate has been decided." She speaks with authority. There's a pause. "Lady Dimitrescu will have you." She states. The tall woman grins wildly. Ethan shrinks back against the wall. (Y/N) sits there, a cut on her cheek from something Heisenberg hand on his hand. Possibly a ring. She didn't care. Ethan is carried away by the tall lady she had learned to be Alcina Dimitrescu. "Good fucking ridens." (Y/N) mumbles to herself, watching Ethan struggle. "(Y/N) (L/N). Your fate has been decided." Mother Miranda repeats. "Oh, great." (Y/N) says, voice dripping in hate. "Lord Heisenberg will take you." She says. (Y/N) feels anger filling her. "I'm not going with that idiot." She says, looking at Miranda while referring to him. She hears him stand. Goosebumps rise on her skin, seeing his shadow on the ground as he looms above her. "Get up." He orders. "Fuck off." (Y/N) retorts, still looking at Miranda. "Get the fuck up!" Heisenberg booms. (Y/N) glares up at him. "I said, fuck off!" She yells back. Heisenberg smiles, adjusting his hat. "You're in for a ride, pretty girl." He growls, grabbing her forearm, forcing her to stand on her bad leg. (Y/N) yelps, numbing pain shooting through her ankle to her hip. She pants, pulling at the chains surrounding her wrist. She would glady, for no money at all, kick him in the balls, if her leg was healed.

"Well? C'mon walk." Heisenberg says, in a teasing manner. "I got shot, dumbass! I can't walk." (Y/N) spits. "Guess I'll either have to drag you or throw you over my shoulder. What'll it be?" He says, a glint in his eyes. (Y/N) remains silent. He grabs her by the middle, hosting her over his shoulder. "Put me down!" (Y/N) shouts as he begins to walk. "Oh! I see. You'd rather be dragged on the ground, huh?" Heisenberg says, stopping. "No." (Y/N) says, quickly. "That's what I fuckin' thought." He says, hand resting on the bad of her thighs. It didn't seem like he really cared about the wound on her thigh.(Y/N) starts to feel blood rush to her head. The man was carrying her at an uncomfortable angle. She grunts, wiggling to adjust herself. "Quit movin'." Heisenberg barks, slapping the back of her injured thigh. (Y/N) flinches letting out a pained sound. She dangles from his shoulder like a ragdoll. This was embarrassing to say the least. He was treating her like a sack of potatoes. 

After what felt like a month, they reached some sort of plant. A factory maybe? This was all surreal. A whirring sound is heard and (Y/N) is walked through a door. "Welcome to your new home." Heisenberg chuckles. "This isn't my home." She snaps, hitting his back with her chained wrists. "Now you've done it." He says, before throwing her down on the floor. (Y/N) hisses, her leg aching. "Look, this us how it's gonna be." He starts, kneeling down to an eye level stance. "You ain't gonna cause trouble and your gonna do what I say. You hear?" He says. "You may need some trainin'," He pauses, eyes hinting some darkness,

"But you'll fuckin' learn."

[hopelesshawks]

We already talked about this in dms but like👀 Keigo and a female reader that he thinks is just all cute and shit. But nah she’s actually one of the best dancers in japan and specializes in badass and sexy dances

I went down such a rabbit hole picking out the choreo for this for zero reason 💀💀💀 but man am I here for it. For those curious what I pictured writing this it’s this dance at time code 7:27 choreography is by Jojo Gomez

It’s an 18+ one y’all, minors dni. Warnings for dom/sub dynamics, mention of reader having a vagina, fingering, hand jobs, light edging, light nipple play, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, minor praise kink

“So when are you finally gonna seal the deal with (y/n)?” Mirko asks Hawks one day as they walk their usual patrol route. It’s a quiet day and quiet days always made Mirko more likely to pry. “Seal the deal?” Hawks asks. “Y’know... Do the devil’s tango? Make the beast of two backs? Teach her the birds and the bees?” Mirko teases, wiggling her eyebrows and crowding into his personal space. Hawks rolls his eyes hard and shoves her out of his space, not that it deters her. “It’s not like that,” he tells his nosy friend but she just scoffs in response. “Don’t play like you don’t want to get all up on her, Hawks. You go to that cafe she works at every night after your shift and I’m pretty sure you don’t even like coffee,” Mirko points out. “I like coffee,” Hawks retorts mulishly. “No you don’t.” “Drop it Mirko.” “Oh c’mon! It’ll be easier if you just admit it.” “Fine! She’s adorable, you happy?” Hawks finally huffs, red tinting his cheeks. There’s a beat of silence before Mirko responds but it’s not quite the response Hawks is expecting. “Wait you think (y/n)... is adorable?” Mirko asks. “What do you mean? She is!” Hawks replies defensively. “Relax tough guy, adorable just isn’t the word I’d use to describe her,” Mirko shrugs. “How else would you describe her? She always seems kinda sleepy on her shift and she wears those big oversized sweatshirts,” Hawks elaborates but Mirko continues to look confused by his assessment of you. “Have you never seen her dance before?” Mirko finally asks. “She dances?” Hawks responds.

In Hawks’ personal opinion, Mirko’s reaction is over dramatic. She had stopped in her tracks and stared at him as if he’d sprouted a third head or announced an early retirement. “What?” he asks, even more defensive than before. Mirko heaves a sigh as if Hawks’ ignorance is her greatest source of disappointment. “I forget sometimes you live under a rock, Jesus Christ. We really do need to talk about you getting out more for things other than work and creeping on the sexy dancer barista you have a crush on. Why do you think she’s so tired every shift?” Mirko asks in disbelief. “She’s a student isn’t she? I assumed school stuff!” “You really are hopeless.” “Hey!” “She has rehearsal before her shift dummy, she’s tired from practicing.” “How do you know so much about it huh?” “Well for starters her group has literally won competitions so jot that down. And two we follow each other on Twitter.” “Why do I even ask you things?” Hawks laments. “Shut up, I have an idea,” Mirko suddenly grins. “Oh god, what the fuck are you planning now?” Hawks groans. “I think we should pay (y/n) a little visit during rehearsal, don’t you?”

Hawks follows Mirko through the halls of the university rec center with a growing sense of dread. She looks mischievous and that’s usually a sign that Hawks is going to regret whatever he just signed up for. After they round a final corner, Hawks can clearly hear music coming out of a room down the hall labeled rehearsal room B. Hawks and Mirko push through the door right as the song stops and immediately Hawks realizes that this was a mistake. Gone is your oversized hoodie, instead you’re in just a pair of sweats and a sports bra, covered in sweat and chest still heaving from whatever dance you and the two other girls with you had just done. Hawks should’ve just ignored Mirko and waited to look up one of your dances on YouTube in the privacy of his own apartment. “Hey (y/n)!” Mirko calls out cheerily even as Hawks mentally curses her out for dragging him here. Your gaze snaps over to the two of them and immediately you break out into a wide grin, the same one Hawks had been fawning over as cute and precious for the past several weeks. “What are you two doing here?” you ask as your friends grab water. “We were in the neighborhood and I remember you mentioning you rehearse around this time so I figured why not swing by?” Mirko replies and god does Hawks hate her right now. “You guys have perfect timing actually, we’re working on something to the song ‘Ride’ by Ciara and it would be really great to get an outside opinion on it. Would you guys mind sticking around to check it out? I promise it’ll be quick the other girls have something right after this,” you ask the two pros, giving your best puppy dog eyes. Hawks wants to politely decline, he’s having enough trouble keeping himself in check as it is thank you very much, but before he can Mirko is already agreeing and he doesn’t have the heart to shut things down when you look so excited. “Ah amazing!! Ok! Just sit at the front of the room and be our audience!” you beam and Hawks is helpless but to comply.

Hawks’ eyes trace over every inch of your body as you start the music and then get into the starting formation of the dance. Hawks can tell the moment you’ve focused in on performing your choreography because your whole demeanor and energy shifts. It’s commanding and confident and very, very sexy. He’s starting to understand Mirko’s reaction to his earlier description of you because the woman he sees before him now? Well adorable doesn’t quite fit the bill anymore. He’s already half hard in his work pants, much to his chagrin. What would the tabloids say if they knew he was getting this aroused in public? It’s not exactly befitting of the number two hero considering he’s supposed to be a role model for future generations. But could anyone blame him? The way you move your body and swing your hips is mesmerizing. At one point you slowly roll your body down to grind your hips to the floor and it’s impossible for Hawks not to imagine you using that same precise control to grind down onto his dick. He tries to focus on the music instead in hopes it will help him calm down but it only takes a second for him to realize the song is painting the very same image he’s trying desperately to clear from his head. He’s almost positive Mirko is smirking beside him but he can’t focus on her, you’ve captured the entirety of his attention.

Then the chorus hits and Hawks is really in trouble. You’re singing along. You’re singing ��they love the way I ride it” and making direct fucking eye contact with him while you swing your hips in a slow, sensual grind and how can he not react to that? His wings flare and puff out instinctively, his cheeks going red, and his dick is now fully erect and leaking precum into his boxers. It would be mortifying if he weren’t too focused on your every move to truly remember his surroundings. Eventually the song ends and even though Mirko stands to go compliment you and your friends on a job well done, Hawks stays rooted in place. He doesn’t dare move as his painfully hard cock twitches in his pants. Sweat drips down your neck and god he wants to lick it off you so goddamn bad he barely even notices you saying bye to Mirko and your friends until the door is shutting behind them.

Hawks hasn’t even fully registered that the two of you are now alone in the room before he’s coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your bare torso. You open your mouth to ask what’s up with him when you suddenly feel his erection against your backside. “Tell me you don’t want this or I won’t be able to stop,” he all but growls against the shell of your ear. “What if I do want it though?” you ask breathlessly as you shamelessly grind your ass back against his throbbing dick. The moan that crawls its way out of his throat in response is guttural, he genuinely can’t think of a time he’s ever been more turned on in his life as he wastes no time spinning you around to face him and pressing you up against the wall. “You knew what you were doing didn’t you?” he asks before dropping his nose down to run along your jaw. You shudder as he licks a long stripe up your neck, delighting in the salty taste of your sweat. “Maybe?” you hedge at first but then he bites the column of your throat hard enough you’re sure it’ll leave a mark and you can’t help but whimper. He draws back to look you in the eye, his pupils blown so wide they’ve almost completely consumed his golden irises. “Don’t lie to me little dove,” he warns. “I may have gone a little harder than usual because you were watching me,” you admit and it’s apparently the right answer as Hawks all but chirps his satisfaction before leaning down to press a bruising kiss to your lips that has you melting. One of his hands slides up to grasp and squeeze one of your breasts but even that is not enough for him and in the next moment one of his feathers glides in to swiftly cut your sports bra off entirely. You’re about to protest but the words die in your throat as Hawks starts pinching and twisting one of your nipples. “Does that feel good little dove?” he asks and all you can do is let your head fall back against the wall and nod your approval.

Hawks takes advantage of your head’s position to resume leaving marks on your exposed neck as his free hand snakes its way into your sweatpants and panties. As his fingers finally reach your dripping sex you feel him moan against the sensitive skin of your throat. “You’re so wet for me already,” he notes as he slowly slides a finger inside of you. “Want you, need you,” is all you can keen as he drags his one finger torturously slowly inside of you. “Want me that bad love?” Hawks teases and your answering nod is almost frantic as he inserts another finger and takes careful note of the way you squirm. “Use your words,” he commands. “I want you so bad Hawks please,” you beg but even as he uses his thumb to lightly brush against your sensitive clit he still doesn’t budge. “I don’t know, you were so naughty teasing me so much in front of Mirko and your friends. Do you understand how turned on I was?” he asks but you can only whimper in response. You jerk your hips forward in desperate search of more friction or movement or something but all that accomplishes is Hawks using the hand not currently buried inside you to hold your hips still. “I want you to feel how turned on your little show made me little dove. Can you do that?” he asks. “Y-yes,” you moan before obediently reaching one hand out to feel his hardened length through his pants. God he’s so big, and it only emphasizes to you how much you want him inside you. “Not gonna get much done from there, little dove, don’t be shy. I want you to feel me, feel the cock you’re so fucking desperate for,” he growls, slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you to emphasize his point. It’s so good but it’s not nearly enough so you fumble with the belt and button of his pants until finally, finally you can slip your hand past the waistband and into his boxers to grasp firm hold of his weeping cock.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to find a devastating rhythm, your hands moving in sync to drive both of you towards your respective climaxes. Your moans echo around the small practice room and it’s music to Hawks’ ears. You’re close, so close, right on the precipice of orgasm when suddenly Hawks is leaning in to whisper into your ear a simple command: “Stop.” His hand stops moving and then he slowly extracts his fingers from inside you. You whine at the loss, pussy desperately clenching around nothing but you obediently stop your hand's movement. "Don't look so disappointed, I thought you wanted my dick," Hawks teases. "I do, fuck, I do," you groan. "Be specific. What do you want?" "I want your dick inside me, please Hawks I'm begging, I want it so bad," you whine. What a pretty sight you make squirming and whining for him. Hawks thinks he could watch you like this forever but even he is starting to get impatient so he decides to finally give you what you want. He shoves his own pants and boxers down low enough for his dick to spring out of its confines, the head flushed red and glistening with precum. Meanwhile his feathers push down your own sweatpants and panties as you watch him with half-lidded eyes, eager to finally feel his hardened length inside you. He has you wrap your arms around his shoulders and places his hands on your waist. "Hop up pretty girl," he commands and you eagerly obey, allowing him to lift you and then wrapping your legs around his waist to further support you weight. "Ready?" he asks. "God, yes Hawks please," you groan as he lines himself up with your waiting entrance. Hawks complies with an almost feral grin, wasting no time in shoving himself fully inside you. You groan as his thick length stretches you open but the slight burn feels so good as he fills you up. "You're doing so good for me, baby. So good," he praises and you practically purr your satisfaction. "P-please. Move," you moan and Hawks doesn't need to be told twice as he begins fucking into you in earnest. All words are lost between the two of you, the only language you need being the moans, groans, whimpers, and whines the two of you pull out of each other. As he drills into you harder and harder you rapidly feel yourself once again approaching climax. "Hawks I'm gonna-" you start but he cuts you off. "Me too baby, hold out a little longer and we'll cum together ok?" he ask. "Ok," you whimper, trying so hard to be good for him. Just a few long deep strokes later he finally gives you permission to cum and almost immediately you cry out his name, clenching and squeezing around him as he tumbles into his own climax. His groan is long and low as he spills his seed inside you and you relish each and every moment of it.

As the two of you finally come down from your highs Hawks carefully sets you back down on the ground. "Shit," he swears. "You can say that again," you laugh breathlessly. "Maybe I should invite you to more rehearsals from now on," you joke. "I'd much rather you give me a private show at my place," he replies easily. "I think I can make that work." "Good." "When would you like your first performance?" "How about now? You were just bragging about how much 'they' like it when you ride it. Time to put your money where your mouth is." "I'd like nothing more."

[kashimos-hajime]

if the world was ending | b.b.

summary: bucky knows he’s still in love with you a year after the two of you mutually agreed to break up. when one phone call spirals into one plan being made and then another, and then suddenly he’s staying at your place, he wonders if there may be a chance to try again.

WARNINGS: small angst, a whole lotta fluff, literally fluff, swearing, mentions of s e x but they don’t do the do pairing: modern!bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 6.7k

a/n: inspired by if the world was ending by jp saxe (ft. julia michaels). a kinda real take on how sometimes the timing just isn’t right for a relationship and how sometimes it is.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Your voice echoes in his car and he nearly shivers at how gentle, sleepy, you sound. He wondered where you’d be: at a bar or at home, working overtime or eating out after a long night, on a date. The thought had made him tired, sad, but it didn’t tear a hole through him as it once would.

“Was there something you needed? Are you okay?” you ask, something shifting on your end and he stops at a red light, turning on his left turn light. He doesn’t know where he’s driving to or how long he’s going to just press on until he goes home. The clicking of the light fills his head. “I know the earthquake was a bit weird.”

“Earthquake?” He remembers it at the mere word. Him not even feeling it, not even realizing he was driving through one until Sam had called him from the office asking if he was okay. “There was an earthquake, yeah. I’m fine. Didn’t even know it happened until after it happened.”

“Yeah. Stuck in traffic?”

He laughs, softly, because you still know him so well. “Yeah. Got trapped in the office.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

You’re never fucking here! It’s like I’m dating a ghost and I don’t know if it’s because I’m boring you or if you just don’t love me anymore. Your voice, angry, twisted with grief and frustration, rattles in his skull as he clears his throat. The light switches green and he turns, driving until he spots an off ramp he knows leads to the highway

“Yeah.” It comes out tight and choked.

Of course I do. I love you, I just—

Just what?

“Yeah,” you say for lack of anything else. There is nothing but silence, but the sound of your gentle breathing and the sound of commercials running. 

“Did you fall asleep watching TV again?” he teases, his throat easing up a bit as you chuckle with a slight sigh.

“Yeah.” You sound like you’re smiling. Bucky hopes you are. “Just staying up late.” Because I’m still used to waiting up for you, the hopeful voice in his head adds quietly. “What’s up? We haven’t talked in a few months.”

Because I just figured out how not to text you when every little thing happens.

“I just thought of you,” he says, “after the earthquake happened. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Your end of the line falls silent and he hides his sigh. He knew it was a mistake. “I thought of you, too.” Your voice is hushed, tender, still full of a love both of you agreed wasn’t meant to be. The thought has always made Bucky torn with sorrow, shackled with guilt and regret. He doesn’t know if they are simply not strong enough to fight for their love or if their love just wasn’t meant to be so strong.

He doesn’t know. What he does know is that he is still in love with you—he always will be. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe,” he says. “I still care about you a lot.”

“Yeah, I know.” You reply so instantaneously that he is convinced and he finds himself driving down familiar roads. His feet ache and he’s exhausted, but he keeps going. He doesn’t want to go home. “I care about you, too.”

You were my best friend.

“How’ve you been?” he asks.

“I’m okay. Single, if that’s what you really want to know,” you confess openly and his eyebrows rise. You don’t sound disappointed or angry about it, but he wonders if you still love him like he adores you. “But, yeah. Work is okay.”

“That’s good.”

“How’s Alpine?” 

Bucky chuckles at the thought of the white cat back home. He’d been the one thing they truly fought over when they broke up, and he knows his cat misses you more than he does sometimes, if the persistent clawing in the middle of the night is anything to go by. He’s taken to shutting the windows to prevent his stupid cat from trying to make his way back to you, for his own sanity and Alpine’s safety.

“He misses you.”

“Well, you know he’s welcome to visit any time,” you point out. You let out a heavy breath and Bucky thinks maybe you’ve laid down or sat up, but he wonders what the apartment they used to share together looks like now. You always rearrange it however you see fit. It’s one of the most frustrating things about you but Bucky could never bare to tell you to stop. 

It kept their life together ever flowing, different despite living in the same place. 

He pulls over at a gas station when he notices the light flicker on.

“You know if the world was actually ending, I’d drop everything for you,” he says to ease the silence but it doesn’t. Instead, it only prolongs it and he sighs, eyes closing. “I don’t say it to confuse you or cause you pain. I just… wanted you to know. I—”

“I love you, too,” you murmur, voice dulcet and soft as feathers he can imagine you kissing the words into his skin. He tilts his head back until it rests against the headrest and he swallows. He doesn’t expect it to hurt but it does. Like a dull knife jabbing into his side. Not quite enough to bleed but enough to bruise. “I do. I don’t think I’ll ever not love you.”

“Yeah.”

“I just wished it’d work out.”

“Me too.”

Knock. Knock. Bucky opens his eyes to see a station attendant mouth ‘gas’ and he nods, rolling down the window. 

“Fill up, thanks,” Bucky says, and the guy nods. He unhooks his phone from the bluetooth and shoves it between his ear and shoulder, fiddling with his wallet. “Do you want anything from the gas station? Did you eat?” He doesn’t mean to sound boyfriendly but it’s natural and he can count all the late nights he’d walk in with no question to buy you candy or chips. He hands his card to the attendant, taking hold of his phone again and switching off the engine.

“I didn’t. I fell asleep before I could,” you confess and he shakes his head to himself, looking out the window. It’s not too busy. The only other person is a dad filling up his gas while his kids are knocked out asleep in the back. “I don’t wanna bother you. I’m gonna go to McDonald’s anyway.”

“I could meet you there?” He winces at how much he immediately regrets his words and you let out a soft breath of surprise. “If you’re comfortable, I mean. It’s the one by the apartment, right?”

“Yeah.” You pause for a moment as if thinking it over. “Yeah, that would be nice.” He knows if you didn’t want to, you’d say so and he wonders how he lucked out. “Give me fifteen minutes?”

“No need to dress up,” he assures but you scoff as it sounds like you get up.

“I’m going to look like utter garbage next to you in your suit. The pillow is permanently marked into my face.”

“It’s casual and it’s McDonald’s, although that’s not really healthy.”

“Fine, you health nut. Always trying to make me make better food choices.” You sound only vaguely annoyed and he knows you’re just joking. Your voice echoes in a way that tells him you’re in the bathroom. God, the fact that he still remembers the sound of your voice in different rooms over the phone is a red flag for his heart. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“There’s a new place on the corner of your block.” He knows that because he drove past your apartment building too many times to count, trying to work up the nerve to confess he regrets everything: not spending enough time with you, being a shitty boyfriend, changing from the man you love. Not to get you to take him back, just to apologize.

You deserve better than his preoccupied, stubborn, uncaring, can’t-delegate-his-time-to-spend-time-with-the-love-of-his-life ass.

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to try that place,” you comment, your voice distant. “It’s on the way to the bus stop and since my car broke down—”

“What? Your car broke down?” 

“What?” Your voice picks up again as the guy hands back Bucky’s card and receipt. Bucky connects his phone to the bluetooth audio as the engine ignites once again. “Oh, yeah. A few days ago, it wouldn’t start. I’m lucky I wasn’t in the middle of the road.”

“I could take a look at it, doll,” he offers, pulling out of the gas station. He doesn’t even realize what he’s called you until the silence hits and he clears his throat. “You know, still know a few things about cars from back in the day.”

“Yeah. Bet that hot ass mechanic is still in there somewhere,” you reply. “I don’t want to trouble you. It’s late as it is.”

“It’s fine. Promise.” He wonders if it hurts as much for you to hear it as it is for him to even say the word. He can only repress the guilt poking at his sides. “We can eat and then I can take a look.”

Your sigh is heavy, tired, but he thinks there is just the slightest smile in your lips as you agree, “Okay. But you’re not paying for my food.”

“Old habits die hard, doll. I can’t say I can do that.”

“James—” A warning is edging into your tone and he laughs. As if he could ever be afraid of you, just seeing and imagining the adorable pout he always wanted to kiss off your face. This is a bad idea.

“Oh, no,” he mocks, “she called me James.”

“It’s your name, doofus.” Maybe you’re wrinkling your nose in annoyance, maybe your eyes are narrowed in an effort to hide the mirth seeping into your gaze. He doesn’t know, but a prickling sensation pokes into his limbs as he just imagines seeing you again. “I’ll see you in a bit? Drive safe.”

“I will. See you in ten, doll.”

He hangs up before you can comment on the pet name.

.

Walking into the bistro, he scans the place to find you sitting in the corner. The place is all wood and warm off-white paint and light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. Plants are everywhere, and he quirks an eyebrow at the tiny succulent sitting on the hostess stand. The lighting is mostly dimmed down to provide a more intimate setting, and a few other people are sitting and chatting as he approaches you. There’s a candle in the middle of the table, painting you in orange-gold.

You perk up when you spot him, and he notices with a half-smile you sit on your hands like you do when you’re nervous, your knees bouncing as you release a hand to wave. He sets down his coat over the back of his chair, sitting down and he soaks in the sight of you. Although he said you didn’t need to dress up, you’ve put on a nice light-blue off-shoulder top and a pair of dark-washed jeans, swiped on a shiny layer of pink lipgloss he knows tastes like strawberries, and winged your eyes black with eyeliner.

In short, you’ve managed to go from beautiful to exquisite, and he doesn’t need the comparison. He’s been wowed before.

“Hi, Bucky,” you say lowly, the menu open before you. A waitress comes to offer him another and he looks up with a small thank you before his eyes fall to the words he can’t quite focus on. “You look nice, as usual.” A small grin catches his eye and he sucks in a breath when he’s met with your face again.

Every goddamn time, you take his breath away.

“And you’re…. you’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. As usual.”

He doesn’t miss the way you lower your eyes to the menu, picking it up and tilting it so you can hide your face. He smiles to himself and looks at the salads.

.

Bucky can’t quite remember when the last time he laughed like this, full of life and light and easy. “Stop laughing!”

“Was that even English?”

“Bucky—”

“It was honestly like you had a stroke.”

“I honestly did.” “Do I need to call 911?”

“I hate you. I am trying to live my life here, Barnes.” You snort into your iced tea at the memory replaying in your head, covering your nose and lips with the side of your hand as you bite into the straw. You’ve been recounting the tale of how you nearly ripped Natasha’s hair out with your bare fists on pure accident when you both completely lost the ability to speak English and choked on air, causing Bucky to just lose it. “It wasn’t even that funny.”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“I can’t. I have this face,” you retort sourly and he takes a deep breath in an attempt to stop the ache in his gut as the waitress places the small apple pie between them as well as two dessert forks. A scoop of ice cream is slowly melting on the flakey crust and he picks up a fork just as you do. “This was really nice, Buck. Hanging out with you again.”

“Yeah. We should do it more often,” he says, twirling the fork in his grasp and allowing you the first bite. You manage to catch ice cream and steaming apple pie on your fork and blow on it carefully before placing it in your mouth. You nearly sigh, your eyes closing and he digs in too. Warm syrup seeps into his blood first when he chews down on the apple filling before a sense of longing for home fills his soul. His stomach heats up from the inside and he sinks into his bones with relief. This is exactly what he needed. “We can be friends, y’know.”

“Yeah, well, I guess.” You smile for a moment before focusing on the pie again. “You know, maybe the distance was good. We got time to stand on our own two feet again.”

“Yeah.” He grins softly, almost sad but not quite. You look so blissful in the warm light of the restaurant, gentle music filling the air. The restaurant has gotten fuller since they’ve entered and sometimes Bucky wishes it was just them in this little slice of healthy heaven, but you’ve gotten remarkably brighter the more people have entered. “It took some guts to end this, I guess.”

“Five years,” you agree. “Think it might’ve been a waste of time when we knew we wanted different things?”

“Well, it wasn’t so bad all the time. Maybe thirty percent of the time.”

“Ten.”

“Fifteen.”

“Five. Five percent was terrible and it was all near the end,” you state and Bucky swallows, the sugar of the pie turning sickly sweet in his mouth. “You can’t sell yourself short, Buck. I know that you regret a lot of things, but we both weren’t perfect in this relationship.” You stab the crust half-heartedly. “And maybe we could’ve found common ground. I mean, we both wanted Alpine, didn’t we?”

“And two or three kids,” he intones dully. He remembers the nights they’d lay awake researching names for their hypothetical baby, staying up to god knows when to read all about colic and teething and how to even survive the trimesters without tearing off your hair. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I never could imagine a family with anyone before you,” you confess, bringing another bite of apple pie to your mouth. The ice cream melts between the prongs of the fork and he grimaces when it lands way too close to your sleeve. You wipe it away with your used napkin. “I never told you that before but I really could see us being happy, Buck.”

“So could I.” The corner of his mouth twitches up, prompting your lips to begin to pull into a small smile. Something sad lingers in your eyes, though, and he leans onto his fist, elbow digging into the table as he tries to think of a way of getting that smile back on your face. “We would’ve made cute babies.” You raise your eyebrows, a doubtful smile digging into your cheeks.

“That’s what I said to Nat after we broke up. She said she always prayed your genes were stronger than Steve’s.”

“They have blonde children.”

“They climb walls and pretend they’re masterclass spies.”

“Okay, fair enough. How is Nat?”

“How’s Steve?” you shoot back playfully. “She’s okay. Tired, but with the new baby and all, it’s a given.”

“I have no idea how Steve convinced her to give him another kid.”

“That’s what I said!” you exclaim, setting down your fork and holding your fingers to your temples. “Okay, so, Nat loves kids but she agreed to two for Steve when they got married and now they’re having number three and it’s like wow.” Bucky laughs at the wondrous light in your eyes. “Maybe the sex is that good.”

Bucky chuckles, his eyes squinting as you pick up your fork again. “They probably talked about it a lot, debated, made slideshows. Knowing Steve, he wouldn’t do a thing out of Nat’s comfort zone even though he wants enough kids to build a Rogers basketball team.”

”Honestly, that would be so cool, but we both know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

“Steve is very happy wearing the skirt.”

“Yeah.” It falls to silence. They finish up their apple pie and you appear to be deep in thought so Bucky doesn’t say anything. Suddenly, you shake your head, chewing on the straw of your iced tea. “Was the sex good?”

Bucky’s eyes widen but you only stare him with honest eyes. You want to know like he didn’t turn into a mess when you kissed the spot underneath his jaw, like the simplest swipe of your fingers up his leg, the tiniest trail on his inner thigh, didn’t make him nothing more than melted putty in your hands.

“Fuck yes.” He sighs. He hasn’t had sex in a year. “Especially the last time after Wanda and Vis got married?”

“We didn’t make it past the kitchen. That was good.”

“Yeah.”

You hum as you think and Bucky pokes at the soggy flakes on the plate. You look at him and he looks at the plate and there’s a strange silence that comes over the table that has been wild with laughter for nearly an hour, maybe more. He leans back into his chair, his prong nudging an uneaten nibble of apple.

“Always thought we should’ve ended in bed,” he finally says half-heartedly. “That mattress took a hell of a beating whenever we argued.”

“Or, whenever you came home after a business trip. I’d miss you so much.” You grin and there’s something mentally exhausted in it. “I miss you so much but I think it figured out how to think about you without it hurting, too.”

“I’m glad.” He lets go of his fork and offers his hand, palm up. You reach forward and grab it, the heat of you sinking into his muscles. His fingers fold over your hand and squeeze. His thumb runs over your knuckles. “I miss you, too.”

“Will we want one check or two?” the waitress asks suddenly and their hands spring apart. Bucky fishes out his wallet, looking up at her.

“Two.”

“One.”

The two look at each other. You narrow your eyes, eyebrows furrowing together. “We agreed that we would split.”

“No, you said it and I disagreed and then you got distracted.” He grins triumphantly as your hands still in your bag and he pulls out his debit card. 

“One and I’ll pay by card,” Bucky clarifies and she nods, slipping away to get it.

“Jerk,” you mutter crossly. You cross your arms underneath your breasts and lean back against your chair. “I can pay for my food just fine.”

“It’s not about whether you can or can’t. It’s about me wanting to pay for you,” he retorts. 

He pays and the two get up, grabbing their jackets and leaving the bistro. They stop dead in their tracks underneath the small canopy when they notice the startling, thunderous rain.

“What the fuck,” you state flatly, staring at the puddles forming in the dents of the sidewalk and Bucky grimaces. The air isn’t frigid but it isn’t warm either, and he bundles his coat around himself as he tries to figure out how to stay dry. You’re tugging a scarf around your neck, your overcoat already settled well on your shoulders as you look at him. He’s got his own raincoat folded over his arm and he shivers against the thought of getting wet.

“I hope it’s not too presumptuous a thing to do to say I parked in the apartment’s visitor lot,” he begins and you raise your eyebrow. “I wanted to make sure you got home safe and maybe take a look at that car?”

“Oh, right. Too bad we could’ve used your car right about now.” You smile, pulling the hair out from underneath. “Okay. What’s our game plan?”

“Stay dry.”

Your smile turns wry. “Apt.”

“Here.” Unfolding his jacket, he holds it above his head. “Get under and then we run.” 

“We are not gonna make it.”

“Gotta try. Get under.” You slip beneath his arm, your hands wrapping around his waist and he takes a deep breath to prepare himself. “Let’s go.” They sprint out into the pouring rain, their shoes slapping against the wet pavement as they run up the block.

“This isn’t working, Buck!” You twist as you try to keep pace but it’s clear that they’re both gonna get soaked. Bucky can’t quite run with you latched onto him so he throws his coat over you, tugging it tight around you before grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you into his arms. As if on instinct, your legs wrap around his waist. Rain soaks into his skull and he squints as it drops into his eyes while you hold the jacket to your head and he tries to regulate his breathing. Your arm looped around his neck, you press against him in an effort to take off some of the weight in his arms.

Your heat soaks into his dress shirt and he pants into your ear, finally reaching the apartment lobby’s door. Dropping you in a dry spot beneath the glass shelter, he shakes his head and flicks off the wet while you unlock the doors.

“Are you good?” he asks, heat burning into his cheeks and you glance at him as you pull open the door. He rakes a hand through his hair, grabbing the jacket you’ve extended to him.

“I’m dry,” you affirm. “Come on. We’ve gotta get you dry.”

“You don’t have to.” Walking into the apartment lobby, he’s hit by a wave of nostalgia. It’s been a year since he’s breathed in the filtered air that carries just a whiff of vanilla. Before, it was five years coming home to this. Rubbing his shoes on the carpet, he follows after you with a squeak and he drips all over the tiled floor while you get to the elevator. “Whew.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you point out, peering at him. “I’m not gonna complain if I get wet but you are and I’m not, so I’m gonna feel bad if I don’t at least get you a towel.”

“I didn’t want you to get wet,” he replies stubbornly. “We can just look at your car and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not bothering me, Buck.”

“Still.” The elevator doors open and they walk in. You swipe your fob before pressing the floor and lean against the rail while he drips onto the middle of the floor. Wiping at some of the droplets dotting his head, he turns to you and grins. “Bet it’s just like old times.”

“God, don’t remind me. I can’t believe you asked me out right before we fell on Splash Mountain.”

“It made it memorable and you said yes.”

You laugh. “I guess so. Steve lost fifteen dollars to Nat who I clearly remember saying if you can convince me to say yes to Splash Mountain you can get me to say yes to a date.” The elevator chime and the doors open. You walk out and the keys jingle against your fingers. “Do you want anything to drink? I can make some tea.”

“Nah.”

“You hate tea. Right. Well, how does hot chocolate sound?” You glance back at him with an impish curl to your mouth. He resists the want to grab your hand and instead does a small jog to catch up with you. You walk with your hands shoved in your pockets and he casts his gaze ahead of him, swallowing. 

“Perfect.”

“That was actually a pretty good place, you know. I’m gonna need to go more often.”

“Yeah. The spaghetti was al dente and everything.” He hears you snort at his comment, reaching the door and opening it with a quick twist of your keys. He doesn’t know what to expect of the apartment he’s moved out of, but when you step in to reveal what used to be his home, he knows he shouldn’t have expected so much to change. The furniture has shifted, that much was a given, but that’s about it. It still smells like your strawberry shampoo everywhere and fresh laundry, and there’s still the dent on the wall from when Steve had tripped and spilled four bottles of beer he’d been carrying. The stains were removed. The dent Steve made with his head was not.

“Welcome home,” you joke weakly to him, your eyes flashing for a moment before you turn to head to the bathroom. He hangs up his coat, unbuttoning his dress shirt and you reappear with a towel before looking at the mess that is your ex-boyfriend. He’s soggy wet everywhere, even his socks. He thinks he might’ve stepped in a deep puddle based on the pant cuff absolutely plastered to his ankle.

You hand him the towel, eyes surveying the damage of his clothes and you chew on your lip. He runs his strands of hair through the towel, the heat of the memory of your body against his fighting off the chill nipping at his skin. You’ve always done that. Your hugs are warmer than any fire that he’s ever known and just the trail of your fingers has left a fire in its wake.

“I have the clothes you said I could keep,” you state lamely and he looks at you with surprise. He thought you’d have donated or burned it all by now. It was the hoodies and sweats he didn’t want anymore because they looked terrible on him and way better on you, but anything is better than being squelchy and soaked to the core. “I could get them out.”

“That’d be nice.”

“Alright. Help yourself to… well, anything. You know where it all is.” Peeling off his shirt, he heads to the sink where you keep plastic bags beneath the sink and throw it in, following it with his undershirt. Running the towel over his skin, he sighs. His heart doesn’t thunder nor does it beat wildly—that was young love—but it does feel fuller now that he’s here.

“Here.” You toss a red hoodie at him and a pair of black sweats follow after. He catches both with a grin, but it soon fades when he realizes what he holds and what you wear. You’ve changed into more comfortable clothes, wearing a matching hoodie to the one he holds in his hands. 

Thing 1 and Thing 2. Right. Before we were even dating. Just best friends.

“Old time’s sake.”

“Always said you should keep it for the next guy to come along,” he says, pulling it over his head. Your eyes stay on his own. Definitely past young love. You don’t even look at his abs and something about how familiar it is makes him sigh into the fabric of the hoodie. 

“Well, it never seemed right. This was when we were best friends, Buck,” you point out. He’s against the counter so it hides him changing out of his pants and into the sweats while you bustle around to gather what’s needed for hot chocolate. “I miss us.”

“Especially when we started sleeping together. Best sex ever,” he cheers and you laugh, getting a pot on the stove. Shuffling in beside you, he grabs some mugs and searches for the marshmallows while you get the milk to boiling.

As he brushes past, his hand rests on his back and trails across, and it’s not until you’re looking at him that he realizes.

“That was habit. I’m sorry.” He blinks. It’d been so natural to do, it’s strange to think it’s wrong now. “My bad.”

“It’s okay.” You grab a whisk and a measuring spoon, waiting patiently by the stovetop. “If I wasn’t comfortable with you touching me, I’d have reacted. You know that.”

Because of your shitty ex that isn’t me. Yeah, I know, he thinks. You’ve got a streak and I hate that I’m part of it.

“Yeah.” He pours marshmallows into the bottom of each mug. “Sorry I’ve gotta add to your string of terrible ex boyfriends.”

“Bucky!” The intensity of your voice makes him turn to you in surprise and you stand there, hands on your hips, face warped in an image of vexation. “If I hear you say you were a bad boyfriend one more time, I’ll smack you with a pan. You weren’t. If I have to spend the rest of my life, convincing you and reassuring you just so you’re brave enough to get back out there, then fine.”

“Doll, I—”

“I mean, seriously. You’re a fucking great boyfriend. You spent time with me but you gave me space, you listened, you always made sure I was comfortable and you’re so patient.” You turn back to your pot, dumping in some hot cocoa powder and whisking it a bit more angrily than he thinks you intend. “You do these things that seem small but mean the world to me, and you’re always looking out for me. I just… there is no way to say you were a bad boyfriend.” You look at him again and his eyes are wide as he regards you. “I don’t want you thinking just because we didn’t work out, no one ever will.”

He’s quiet as you gently pour each cup full of hot chocolate, the marshmallows floating to the top and he leans on the counter by his hand, looking down.

“It’s more than just the sex that I miss,” he says suddenly, and you look at him, expression easing.

“I know.”

“No, it’s… more. I miss your laugh, and the way you fold my clothes, and the tiny little post-it’s you leave on the fridge. I’m not asking you to take me back, I just… I’m still in love with you, you know? You’re the love of my life. It fucking sucks that apparently we aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m still in love with you, too,” you whisper, handing him a cup of burning heat.

“You ever think we could have a second chance?” he wonders, trying not to sound too hopeful. You smile behind your porcelain mug, just a tinge sad and sip before nodding. You set down the mug against the counter with a soft clatter and so does he, his finger tracing the rim of the white mug.

“I want to think so,” you murmur. Your eyes are focused on the small movement of his finger and he presses his lips together, trying to get something out. But then you turn away with your mug towards the couch and he follows after you. The TV switched on, you flip through the channels. “My car’s parked in my usual spot, if you actually do wanna take a look. I can’t force you to.”

“Maybe in the morning? You still take Saturdays off, right?”

“Yeah. Unless I get called in.” He walks up to you and sinks into the couch beside you. You lean on the armrest, knees tucked beneath your bum as he sits on the opposite end. They sip their drinks, a quiet falling over them. No one knows how to talk after the mention of a chance a relationship can come back to life once again. You pipe up when there’s a commercial break and Bucky blinks. “You know how you said you’d drop everything for me if the world was actually ending?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course.” He thinks about it for a moment. “Sky could be falling but it wouldn’t matter, long as I knew you were safe and that I was holding you tight, protecting you how I could.” You unfurl from your ball, leaning forward to set down your cup of melted marshmallows and hot chocolate and he drains the rest of it down. It settles in his gut warmly, but it also squirms as you sit up and face him. He sets down the mug. “All I want to do is protect you. I know in the end, it was me who was hurting you and just… I never wanted that. I wouldn’t let anything touch you if I could help it.”

“It’s impossible not to hurt people you love. That’s part of it all, Buck. And I’m sure I hurt you too, and I’m sorry for that,” you say, reaching forward past the knees tucked your chest. He takes your offered hand. “But I’m glad that you’re always here. That I know you have my back. Just know that I have yours. You can count on me.”

He squeezes your fingers gently and you smile wider. His own lips pull into a tender smile as he gently pulls you into him and you go willingly, crawling across the couch to rest against him. His arm settles around your shoulders as he extends his legs over the cushions. You nestle yourself, your cheek on his chest and his thumb rubs circles along your arm, gentle pressure through the sleeve of your hoodie. 

He looks down at you, and you look up at him, and there’s a moment when that is all there is—two lovers on a night in, too tired to sleep, unwilling to part for even a moment. You touch his cheek, and his thumb swipes over yours as his lips part.

“There’s no one else for me,” he whispers and your hand flattens against his cheek. He sits up and so do you, your other hand on his waist while his settle on your hips. There is something intense about his gaze, and by the twitch of your lip, he knows you’re bemused, but he’s serious.

“Bucky, there’s always going to be someone out there for you that isn’t me, no matter how much we both hate it.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he says. “I love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.” It is simple for him. The simplest thing he knows. Your eyebrows furrow together and you open your mouth but he continues on, “I’ll love you even if the sun goes black and the moon splits into two. I’ll love you even if you get married, even if you don’t, even if you have kids, even if you have none. I’ll love you if you become a dog person or even a fish person, and I’ll love you even if you move away.” You shift in his lap, and he swallows, shaking his head at the incredulous feeling you bring to him. Love fills him up and drains him hollow, and you are everything. 

“I’ll love you if I never see you again. I’ll love you if I see you once every six months, and I will love you if I am lucky enough to see you every day. I’ll love you when you’re old and grey and don’t remember who I am. I’ll love you enough to bring you back. This isn’t young love anymore. We danced around each other for three years before we got together—I’m past the honeymoon phase. This is fucking real for me. When I say there is no one else, I mean that I will never love anyone like how I love you. And I’m fine with that, as long as you’re happy.”

A beat. Bucky can hear his heart in his chest, slow and beating. He is sure of this and your eyes scan him, searching for lies. There are none.

“The hot chocolate inspired this?” you question teasingly, but your voice trembles, soft as feathers and he wonders if it is the same emotion that stitched his heart and lights it on fire. He is dynamite dormant, waiting for a spark. 

“Everything about this night did,” he murmurs. Your thumb swipes at his lip, a gentle thing and he smiles. His own gaze stays on your eyes and he remembers a time when he’d do anything to kiss you. Now all he wants is your smile.

“I don’t know if I love you as much as you love me,” you begin quietly, your words tasting like chocolate and sugar against his skin. He chuckles. “But I do love you a whole damn lot.”

“Never one for words, huh.”

“I prefer action,” you agree. Their noses brush and his lungs hitch as you close your eyes. He does too, the presence of you nearly overwhelming. His every nerve tingles and his hand on your hip tightens as your lips gently meet his. He doesn’t know anything but the familiarity of you against him, the gentle tug of your fingers in his hair, the blissful quiet that fills his head as his chest explodes. He kisses you back but you pull away, a soft smile on your face. Your arms loop around his neck as he looks at you and you look thoughtful. “That sounded a lot like Lemony Snicket the more I think about it.”

“I read books to my best friend’s kids,” he points out and you laugh. “Sarah really likes A Series of Unfortunate Events.”

“Well, we can’t fault her. Steve and Natasha are some of the biggest bookworms ever.”

“Doll, she’s four.”

“She’s a smart kid.” You shrug innocently and he laughs, scrunching up his nose. It has always been easy with you. Tentatively pressing another kiss against your mouth, he feels you reciprocate it quickly and his smile spreads wider across his face. Your arms tug him closer. “Bucky,” you mumble against his mouth and he hums against you. His fingers bunch the fabric at your waist and you squirm in his lap, inching to get closer. “I want to try again.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers dust over his brow, swiping away hair that’s fallen into his face. He grins, eyes closed blissfully at how fond the gesture it is. “I know we can do this.” His eyes flutter open at half-mast, watching you as you carefully trace down his cheek. “It’s gonna be okay, right? We’re gonna make it work, right?”

“We’re gonna do our damn hardest to try.”

“Okay.” You hug him tightly, resting your head on his shoulder and he wraps you in a tight embrace, letting you melt into him. Your whole body seems to relax in his hold and he closes his eyes, burying his face in your neck. “I needed a hug.”

“Well, you can always count on me to give you one now, doll.” You pull back and he raises his chin as a slight smirk twitches at your lip.

“Never thought I’d be thankful for an earthquake,” you whisper nefariously and he laughs into your mouth as you press a kiss hard enough to push him onto his back. He falls, legs straightening along the length of the couch. You fall with him, your hands on either side of his head and he simply holds you to him, laughing when you pepper kisses down his neck. You know every ticklish spot on his body and he can’t help but raise his head to expose the expanse of his neck.

“You’re evil,” he gasps, scandalized, and you peek up at him through your eyelashes, your eyebrow arched. He meets your eyes and it’s like the sun is in his chest. He is lighter than he has been in months.

“You love me anyway,” you say. 

Bucky can’t help but agree.

[gorochanfanclub]

Sentiment

Majima x Unnamed Female Character

Summary: Majima and his girlfriend are watching a movie on the floor in their living room. When he reaches out to hold her, she is overcome with a feeling she can’t name. 

Contains: fluff, a bit of angst (maybe), hinted depression, Majima being the secret softie he is

A/N: My first time writing a fic for Majima. Hope you guys like it! Wrote this with a specific person in mind (one of my OCs lmao) but left it purposefully extremely vague who the woman was so anyone reading this can imagine whatever they want. Comment below if you figure out what movie they’re watching!! It is indeed a real movie and I made sure to hint at it pretty hard lol, it’s one of my own personal favorites I think Majima actually would like. Also think it’s worth noting I wrote this entire thing while listening to 1984 by Junko Yagami on loop lmao. Was inspired by an edit on Instagram using this song. (edit was by eyeglassez on there)

She nearly had drifted off to sleep when it happened. The comfortable weight of him on top of her, his heat warming her, the feeling of his hannya patterned ink under her sleep heavy hand, even the low, humming voices on the TV illuminating the dark room, all threatened to carry her away to a land of peaceful dreams. 

As she lay on the bedroll in the living room, the soft cotton sheets cradling her like an infant, her left hand rest on Majima’s shoulder blade, the other next to her face. His right hand rest under her head, beneath the plush pillow she placed it on. His other rest dangerously close to her right, fingers mere millimeters apart. 

This wasn’t an uncommon position for the two to be in. She enjoyed his warmth, the cold of this world being soothed by his soft body heat. He reveled in the feeling of a body pressed to his, often coming up with the excuse, ‘fat tits like yers are better ‘n any pillow out there.’

She couldn’t even remember what was happening in the film Majima had insisted they watch together. It was a Hong Kong made film, one of those kung fu type movies Majima couldn’t seem to get enough of. Her eyelids get heavy as she tries to stay lucid enough to listen, knowing Majima would want to talk about it later, probably referencing lines from the movie for weeks to come. 

Straining them open, she sees a little girl on the screen, getting harassed by a group of boys just a few years older than her. They tug at the rainbow lollipop in her hand, attempting to rip it from her small hands. Suddenly, another boy, much too small to fight even one of the bullies, comes running in her defense, leaving the group to abandon the girl and fight the young hero instead. 

The screen then flashes to the same couple, grown adults now, yet the same hero and the same girl who never go to thank her savior. From a small box, the girl produces the swirly confectionary, handing it to the now adult man who had rescued her all those years ago.

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next after that. Her drowsiness clouded her mind too much to even think about the intimacy of such a scene on the television. 

Perhaps Majima had felt touched by the story that unfolded before him, or perhaps he just wanted more to feel. Gently, his fingers stretch to hers, lacing their hands together next to her head. His usually gloved thumb, now lying naked in an embrace with another hand, gracefully rubbed the back of her palm. 

It was so soft, so feather light, she might not have noticed it had she been anyone else. Yet, she was her, and in an instant, all sleep that threatened to take her over was gone, full lucidity coming back to her as she nearly gasped. 

She stayed as still as a statue, hoping Majima wouldn’t notice the change in her breathing. Luckily he didn’t, his eye stayed glued to the screen, mindlessly holding onto her as he continued his action. 

Heart beating in her chest, she didn’t know how to react. He was being so… gentle. What did she do to be deserving of any of this kindness? 

Her eyes dilate, losing focus of the television and staring at nothing in particular. She feels her mind wander, the feeling of his warm skin on hers flooding her thoughts, the voices on the screen just in front of her being replaced with his. 

***

The night air breezed past them as they walked. It whipped through his bowl cut, blowing delicate strands into his one good eye, shielding it from her view. 

She could watch him forever. He was like a piece of fine art to her; all rigid and strong with the softest curves on his face. The neon lights seemed to illuminate his skin, making it shine with a heavenly glow from within. The snakeskin leather on his shoulder glittered in the night, each scale gleaming in turn. 

When he noticed her eyes boring holes into him, he turned his head with a smirk, “Ya keep staring like that, I got somethin’ on my face?” 

His eye twinkled as he joked, the brown of it turning to blue, then green, then purple as the street passed him by, its light forming a colorful kaleidoscope on his features. 

She was completely starstruck, the ability to form words long gone from her, her entire brain focused on taking him in. Her lips parted, trying to muster a response to his question, only awed breaths falling from them. 

As he smiled back, chuckling at her silence, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, warming her face in the cold. The blush on her skin made his heart swell, though she would never know that. His smile falls for a second, his typically harsh features softening as they walk side by side, eyes never leaving one another. 

Not looking where she was going, her foot catches on something sticking up from the ground. She wasn’t sure what it could have been; perhaps it was an uneven paving stone, a discarded paper coffee cup, or even just her own clumsiness. Though, whatever it was, it had her falling to the ground fast. 

Long before she could recognize what was happening to her, a warm, leather gloved hand was gripping her forearm, halting her descent to the concrete beneath her feet. 

If she had been starstruck before, her head was spinning now, every nerve in her body feeling fuzzy in the proximity of the man looking down at her. At this angle, he looked ethereal, the moon above glowing on the back of his head like a halo. For just a moment, she felt he might sprout wings and fly her up to heaven. 

Swallowing, she feels him pull her up, standing her flush against him. The open hem of her jacket tickled his chest, sending a fluttering inside him. They were so close, almost close enough to feel his heart beat against hers. 

He scoffed cockily, his breath creating a misty cloud around him. When the fog cleared, he spoke, “Better watch where yer goin’, missy. Can’t have ya getting hurt on me, now can I?” 

The tenderness in his tone said more than his words had. What he meant to say was, ‘Please be careful, I want you safe,’ but the meaning got lost in translation from heartbeat to Japanese. 

Yet, she felt herself nodding, understanding perfectly what his original intention had been. 

***

His stirring on her chest brought her to the present. Hopefully he wasn’t getting up, she needed him there, weighing her down, keeping her grounded while her thoughts were anywhere but this Earth. 

Fortunately, Majima only sighs, his torso rising then falling under her still hand. He shifts slightly, his long legs moving against hers as he finds a new position atop her to lay. His head even shifts, hair rubbing against her chest, and nose gracing her night shirt. 

Staying still became harder and harder the more Majima moved. Every muscle in her body wanted to both tense and melt at the same time. Her heart beat so loudly against her chest, she could hear it in her ears. 

Looking down to the hand inside his, she bites her lip, trying to keep the quivering of it to a minimum. His grip on it tightens ever so slightly, and she is sure he knows she was staring at him. However, when she looks back to the screen, she sees fists flying and tensions rising, a sign that his grasp was only due to the suspense on screen.

At this she relaxes, feeling safe from his teasing for even just a moment. The last thing she wanted was for him to notice her nerves and have this moment end. 

Rotating her head gently, she looks up. The darkness of the ceiling seemed to reflect on her, reminding her that that was life before Majima; dark, bleak, flat, and devoid of all color and warmth. 

***

On days like these, she wanted nothing more than to just crawl up into a ball and fade away, her own existence crushing her like the heaviest burden there could be. It felt even hard to breathe, her lungs squeezing with sorrow. 

Yet, she trugged the streets, walking to the place she had promised to meet him. He wasn’t one for planning things but today was an exception he had said. Nishida told her he was feeling ‘uncharacteristically structured.’ So despite her aching being, she marched to meet him. 

He sat in the cafe, idly scrolling through his phone when she arrived. Meekly, she walked up to his table, feeling like being around him might be enough to soothe her soul. 

It wasn’t until she sat down that he looked up. All it took was that one glance from his right eye to bring light to her vision. Like stepping out of a tunnel, he showered her in sunlight. 

His lips turned up into a smile when he noticed her presence in front of him. He winked, shoving his phone into his pocket absentmindedly, right now, his only focus was on her. “Hey, darlin’,” he flirted, “it took ya long enough. Thought I might have t’ go lookin’ fer ya.” 

She mustered the strongest grin she could, forcing all her energy into imitating him, hiding whatever pain lingered just beneath the surface. Her own face felt so heavy though, and even just that simple action hurt, exhausting her to the bone. 

Even the most subtle change on her face was noticed by Majima. A lot of the time, she felt he could read her mind, see her soul. He always seemed to know what she was feeling, even when she didn’t know it herself. 

Her whole life, people only ever bothered to take her at face value, none dared to look beyond her mask; until him. He seemed to be the only person who could feel her, see her, and hear her the way she so desperately wanted to be felt, seen, and heard. 

Catching the pained expression she held, his smile fell, being replaced with one of almost shocking concern. “Wait, what’s wrong with ya? Ya look like half dead, sweetheart.” His brows furrowed as he studied her, eyes pushing back the veil to take a closer look. 

She only shakes her head, looking down in embarrassment. She never wanted to make him worry, to take away that smile she loved seeing. The guilt of his emotion pressed on her. 

He sighs, smacking the table with both gloved hands. “Well I can’t have ya sittin’ around all mopey like this,” he teases, sing song in his voice being exaggerated more than usual, like hands trying to lift her up. 

“Let’s get outta here,” he gestures with a thumb over his back. He takes a look around, scrunching up his face, “This place is a dump anyway.” 

He stands, looking down to her with soft eyes and a half smile. The sympathy in his features nearly broke her. He was so tender in the way he looked at her, trying to tell her ‘You’ll be okay, I’m right here,’ without speaking. 

A black hand extends to her, fingers spread wide open, awaiting her to place her own inside it. Shaking with anticipation and anxiety, she gives the hand what it wants. Gently, his glove closes around her skin, leading her to follow him into the street. 

Alone on the sidewalk and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, his voice lowers, losing all semblance of its usual insincerity, “How about I treat you to some takoyaki? You like yours with extra sauce, don’t you?” 

***

The loud music of the film’s end credits snap her from her thoughts. Glancing back to the television, she watches the white letters roll up on a black screen. The names of the actors and production team stare back at her, reminding her she hadn’t been paying attention. 

As the music fades, and the credits finish out, the screen goes black, casting the room in a peaceful darkness. Only peaceful because he was here with her, shielding her from its harsh cold and uncertainty. 

She feels him chuckle on her chest, muttering more to himself than her, “Shit, that was pretty damn good. Can’t believe that punk was some natural born kung fu master, never saw that one coming.”

With a sigh, he goes to unwrap his hand from hers and grab the remote to turn the TV off. He removes his arm from under her pillow to push off her and get up. Feeling his grasp on her hand loosen, she instinctively tightens her own, her other hand pushing his shoulder back down onto her chest. 

Majima huffs, falling back onto her. Craning his head to try and look at her, he grumbles, “Jeez, lady, what’re you doin’?” 

Her grip on him only tightens more, fingers digging into him, scared he might leave her grasp and disappear into the night. Not able to contain herself anymore, her muscles tense under him. 

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every sensation of him on her burning hot with a feeling she couldn’t describe. Feeling her heart swelling to almost burst, she breathes deep, a stinging in her eyes becoming more and more prevalent. 

She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, why all of the sudden she felt like a dam had broken inside her, emotion gushing through the cracks and drowning her on dry land. 

Yet, of course he could tell. He always did. Squeezing her hand in his, he mutters to her, voice barely above a whisper. “You okay?” he asks tenderly, “I know it kinda got sappy there fer a minute but that ain’t no reason t’ cry.” Repeating his action from earlier, his thumb ghosts across her knuckles. 

It could have been his physical touch or the way his words touched her soul but either way, that was the last crack in the dam. A sob erupted from her throat- hot, almost steamy tears cascading down her cheeks and onto the pillow. 

She only grips him tighter, near to drawing blood with her nails on his back. Her head finds itself leaning against his silky black hair, cheek pressing firmly onto his skull. Nose buried in his dark locks, she chokes, tears still flowing like a waterfall, “I love you, Goro…”

The words fell from her lips like a prayer. Like it was the only important thing she would ever say. It felt like a confession, though the time for all that had long gone by. 

In her moment of frail weakness, Majima is finally able to push off her, just enough to look her in the eye. Her vision of him was not as clear as usual, the water blurring him and barring her from seeking refuge in his eye. Had she not been crying, she would have seen the change in his face. It faded slowly from concern to ardor, plush lips pressing together. 

Lifting his hand, he reaches it to touch her cheek, hot and wet from her overflow. Wiping some of the tears off her, he whispers, “I love you too, babe. More than ya know…” 

Leaning in and capturing her lips on his, he seals his promise.

[dirt-cup-draco]

James x Reader- Impossibility (2/2)

Part 1---> Here!

“James,” your voice cracked and your eyes turned misty. “I know you don’t understand but I can’t tell you… It will be so much worse if I do. Just please hug me and give me some time. Maybe we can try to be like we were once but I need time before that and you need to live your life like always- without fretting over what I’m doing,”

The words cut deep even if that wasn’t your intention. Had James truly made you feel so forgotten that you insisted the end of your friendship was the best and only option?

A hug was the least he could do.

When his arms found their way around you he felt the tremors going through your frame. Shoulders shaking with the sobs you were trying to conceal and knees quivering with a frailty he knew had more to do with your emotional distress than any actual weakness.

“I’ll see you around Potter,”

You pulled away first and James wasn’t sure how to keep his hold on you anymore. It seemed it’d been gone for longer than he thought.

If you thought the few months before graduation had been tough without James had been torture you surely hadn’t been thinking. Now it had been three years and the day you’d said goodbye to the most important person in your life replayed in your mind despite you doing everything you could to block it out. 

There were days you woke up feeling like you could breathe. Like you could power through the day without more than a few fond thoughts of James, because even now there was still never a day where he didn’t run around your mind and make your heart jerk around uncomfortably. 

Now his name brought you a level of anxiety that filled your veins with guilt. You adored James then and when you drank too many glasses of wine after a hard week of nonstop work at St. Mungos you could admit that you still adored the boy who was becoming a wonderful man. Or at least, that’s what Remus told you in his letters. 

You still had yet to see James, and for that you were both grateful and saddened. The day he showed up in need of your services you’d be ready to give him an earful for being an irresponsible git and falling off a broom after trying to show off- you stopped yourself. James was still the boy he had been at Hogwarts but you had to realize he had grown in the years you’d been apart even if you found your own growth stunted. 

Yes, it seemed nowadays it would be more likely for James to be taken to St. Mungos because of his work in The Order and not because of a quidditch accident. The other three men you had maintained friendships with did their best to distract you when you found your heart aching and offered you updates when you felt detached from the love of your life. 

Three years and the ache within your chest had still not vanished. It was a heavy and oppressive weight that had become a comfort in it’s own way. Constant and all encompassing, it was your new normal. It kept you shielded from going too deep into your unresolved feelings but kept them close enough to the surface that every smile felt a little forced, every laugh sounded a little too loud. 

Tonight was one of the nights where the weight of your feelings became more suffocating than comfortable. The tears burned your eyes but had stopped falling long ago. You couldn’t handle the shame of crying over a taken man- one you had pushed away. Would things have been different if you’d told him despite the consequences? Surely it could be no worse than this. 

“Meredith,” you croaked, sitting up from your fetal position on the couch. Your owl cocked her head to the side as you slid your feet into your slippers, tossing your blanket from around your shoulders to lay on the back of the couch. The cushions had become a bit sunken as you collapsed there after work and stayed most days when you didn’t have to stay at the hospital. 

Times were bleak and that made the feelings inside you even more tumultuous. A dark and foreboding power loomed over all over wizard kind and here you were, shuffling across the wooden floors and crooning to your aging owl. You couldn’t say life was all bad, your fingers skating over the smooth and silky feathers of your longest friend. From the age eleven you had found peace in your owl’s quiet company. 

Your fingers stalled and she bumped her head against fingers after gently nipping at the closest one. It was enough to pull you from the memories playing too quickly in your mind for you to feel any nostalgia. It was a dizzying sensation that left your stomach in knots. 

“Get ready to send a letter to Peter?” You asked her, stroking her head as she cooed in response. 

It pulled a smile from you and you bound over to your wooden desk, the cooled surface causing goosebumps to rise on your arms. It further helped to clear your mind long enough to write to your longtime friend who had become like a sibling since he had pulled you aside in the hall. 

Happy with yourself for reaching out when the thoughts became overwhelming, you returned to your spot back on the couch. That familiar weight wrapped itself so tight around you that you forgot that you needed a blanket.

--

James was drifting in and out on the couch he had called home for the past month and a half. He could hear Peter snoring down the hall, his door cracked slightly as Peter claimed it got too hot otherwise. James had suggested opening a window instead, but no, that would be too cold. 

The springs were pressed uncomfortably against his side as he rolled over, the threadbare blanket and deflated cushions of Peter’s couch not doing much to help ease him into an easy and comforting sleep. However, James doubted that he’d be doing much sleeping anyways; even if he were to be in his- Lily’s- apartment. 

He couldn’t complain too much. Peter was kind enough to let him crash when he’d showed up with bloodshot eyes and clenched fists and promised it’d just be for a night. Peter was kind enough to pretend that it didn’t bother him when James took up the space he so carefully created for himself alone. Peter was kind enough to not kick James out.

And James? James was in a limbo. Two voices screamed in his head and neither seemed to be doing anything other than getting louder. He could leave, he had the money from his parents, but one voice said that Lily would take him back. The other voice said he should stay just another couple days, really think on why she’d ended things and think of what his own actions had meant. 

To anyone else, James Potter must be a cheating bastard who let a secret slip while he slept peacefully and with no guilty conscience. Yet Lily knew him and James knew she understood. However, that didn’t help patch the hole in his heart and the confusion that grew every second. 

Loving Lily Evans was an honor, and an honor he’d held close to his heart for the past four years. She was bright and caring and the flame that kept him warm on his coldest days. Her work with The Order was brilliant and admirable and he knew he could trust her with his life. There had never been, and never would be, anything wrong with the woman. 

It had started with a furrowed brow on his face as he sat pensive and quiet in his arm chair. Lily had asked, “everything alright there, love?” and James had pasted on a smile and said “of course, always,” while holding out his arms to her. She had made herself comfortable on his lap and he’d let the melancholy made from ghosts of the past dissolve. 

A day later he’d been lost in thought again, pouring the coffee until it flowed over the rim of the mug and he’d spent the last few minutes before Lily went to her part time job cleaning up spilled coffee instead of kissing her goodbye. She’d forgotten the incident but he was still trapped in the memories that had distracted him in the first place. 

“I can’t read your mind, you know,” His heart, his dear, his Lily, had teased as they lay in bed together, her head heavy on his bare chest and her hair ticklish. 

“Don’t think you’d want to see Sirius pulling down Peter’s trousers in third year potions anyways,” 

He should have known better. Lily knew him like the back of her own hand and a simple joke would not put her off from joking. It had made him crack a smile as he thought of Y/N, the girl who had known him in his most infuriating years. His heart had skipped painfully in his chest and Lily looked to him with a concerned look.

“James, please,” she had begged with soft eyes that had him telling her his snowballing thoughts. 

Once he had finished, his chest tight and his cheeks tight from spilled and dried tears, Lily had stroked his cheek with a gentleness that shocked him even then. “You’ve got unfinished business with her love, of course she’s still on your mind. Why would I ever be mad at you for missing a friend?” 

Because I’ve never been sure she was just a friend. 

To James, it had been a whisper in the back of his mind that had never been meant to meet the light of day. To Lily, it had been a slap across the face. 

“D-did you mean to say that?” It had been a tentative question, nearly as quiet as the whispered words that James hadn’t realized had been shared. 

As his voice cracked over, “Say what, Lils?” she had had her answer. 

There was no screaming match, no deep betrayal. Only a lost truth found by eyes that had not been invited to see. The tears were shed when Lily was finally left in a silent apartment that felt as if it was missing something immediately. The frustrated screams came when James had stumbled through the streets numbly, still in his pajamas and his jacket hanging loose from his hand that was shoved deep in his pocket. 

The first week at Peter’s he hadn’t had much to say, even when Remus and Sirius came. They didn’t know why it happened, just knew that the infamous Lily and James had met their end. The second week James had gotten up to make Peter breakfast and the weight was still there but he was growing used to it and the conflicting thoughts that were always on his mind. The third week he’d stopped writing Lily letters that he’d never send. The fourth week he’d started writing you letters instead. 

Unsent were all the things that had been bouncing around James’ head that added to the dull throb that helped count the days away. I miss you. I’m furious. Why did you say goodbye. What could you not tell me. I hate you for doing this to me and Lily. I love you and realized too late.

Those very letters were bound tightly and kept shoved in Jame’s suitcase that was balanced against the far wall. Realizing it would be a night of questioning rather than sleeping he rolled off the couch with a low groan and a stretch of his back. The floor was cold against the soles of his feet and a chill traveled down his spine. Sometimes the only thing that could lull him to sleep was seeing his thoughts organized on paper. 

Getting a quill ready, he was startled by the sudden and rhythmic tap of an owl’s beak agains the window that was set just above where Jame’s suit case was resting against the white walls of Peter’s apartment. What was even more startling was James wasn’t certain he wasn’t hallucinating until he opened the window with shaking fingers and Meredith flew in, circling with her natural grace before settling on a perch Peter kept beside his own owl’s. 

A crisp envelope was in her beak and if he hadn’t recognized the grayish dusting of Meredith’s feathers and the golden eyes of his best friend’s owl he would have recognized the curls and loops of your handwriting. For reasons unknown, a smile found it’s home on his lips as he realized you hadn’t stopped drawing small circles above your i’s. 

He approached the owl that had been to his childhood home more times than he could count and tried to take the envelope from her but was met with an indignant twist of her neck. 

“Still requiring payment little miss Merry?” He asked, a giddy stirring in his stomach at the familiarity of the situation he was in as he shuffled around Peter’s kitchen for something she would like to nibble on while she rested. Finding something suitable, he returned and she happily dropped the sturdy letter into his hand. 

Peter’s name and address was neatly written even if towards the end of each line the words began to slope downwards. It was something you had hated about your writing but had seemed to grow used to as you hadn’t tried to overcorrect and curve the ends up too high.

Now James Potter was a good and honest man but he had only gotten small bits of information about you from Sirius and from looking over Peter’s shoulder when he read your letters. Peter had caught on though and now took to reading in his bedroom. Remus was tightlipped as ever, claiming if James wanted to know he could send you a letter himself. 

He was starved to know something, anything. So yes it was wrong, but nothing had seemed to be going right lately. What was more thing? It was a poor excuse to open Peter’s mail yet here he was, peeling off the seal with the greatest care.

Pete, Your letter began and James ran his thumb over the ink fondly. 

I know you’re probably sleeping, as you should be. You know what I’m going to ask and I know it’s not doing me any favors but I need to know how he is. I’ve been good and trying to stay focused on work but I have the whole weekend to recover from my double shifts and I need something to anchor me. Otherwise I’ll write or I’ll show up where I’m not welcome and I think that would be far worse. I should’ve never said goodbye.

James’ blood rushed through his veins in anticipation, praying for a name to appear in the paper- his name. He needed something concrete yet the gears were turning and he was nearly completely convinced that you were referring to the day he had started believing that you forgiving him was an impossibility, even if he’d never truly known what he’d done to push you so far away. 

Meredith chittered impatiently, wanting to be back in her familiar apartment after a fulfilling flight. “Alright, don’t get your feathers in a twist,” James hushed her and listened for Peter’s steady snoring before returning his eyes back to the letter.

 If you're awake feel free to come for some cocoa and a chat. 

                                                                                Love, Y/N

It was all James needed to jump to his feet, slipping on his shoes before falling to his knees in front of the fireplace. He knew she was expecting Peter but it had felt like she was reaching out to him and he had so longed to be back in her arms. Hope hadn’t been something on Peter’s mind for nearly two months and even now he was hesitant to feel it but maybe you’d at least let him back into your life as a friend. 

“Head home, Merry,” James commanded of the owl, giving her an approving nod as she hopped to the window before taking off silently. Then, his concentration was on poking and prodding Peter’s bricks. One was loose and kept a bag of floo powder hidden, except James couldn’t remember which one. Fifth one up and third to the right? Or was it left? His trembling hands grew impatient and he let out a long and loud grumble. 

“Going to Y/N’s?” Peter coughed his greeting and James froze. 

“Pete- the letter I-” 

James’ apology fell into silence as his longtime friend shook his head. 

“Fourth up and sixth to the right,” 

James rushed to his friend with the floo powder now secure in his hand and tugged him into a quick embrace. 

“Just be sure to pull her closer if she tries pushing you away,” Peter mentioned as he took a deep breath, focusing on you and thinking of the return address he’d seen on every letter. 

“Thank you wormtail,” 

The flames ignited the powder, growing blindingly bright. Peter blinked and the fireplace was empty. 

--

Your fingers had grown cold even as you intertwined them together. Meredith hadn’t come back yet and the stars were beginning to vanish as the sky grew lighter even when the sun was still tucked away for another half an hour or so. You knew Peter must be sleeping and you ought to try the same but two mugs were sat on your counter in preparation just in case. 

A few more stars winked at you before vanishing in the paled blue expanse of sky and your eyelids grew heavy but snapped open when a loud snap and a plume of smoke could be heard and seen in your left peripheral. You darted into a seated position and coughed after inhaling the soot.

“Pettigrew you will not be splinched for Merlin’s sake just apparate next time!” 

“I’ll pass on the message,” 

You gasped, another forceful set of coughs erupting as you took in more of the inky smoke that was steadily clearing out. The owner of the voice you never thought you’d hear again set everything straight and then you saw the man you never thought you’d see again. 

“Sorry, by the way,” James said, his voice oddly timid as he shuffled in front of the fireplace. “forgot you hated the floo. Just thought I’d take you up on your offer off cocoa and a chat,” 

Your eyes were bloodshot and burning from the smoke but now as you took James in you were certain that the tears you’d been holding back for years would fall and it would have nothing to do with the most asinine form of travel a wizard could have invented. 

“That was for-” 

“I know, I’ve been staying with him,” 

The answer was surprising but more so was the way James’ eyes tracked your features, drinking you in as you did him. He had a medium length scruff that decorated his jawline nicely and his curls were as disheveled and dark as always. His crows feet were more defined and it added a level of maturity you seemed to find very attractive as butterflies took flight in your stomach. 

“Why?” You sniffled, eyes breaking away from his first as he took a step towards you. He noticed when you curled up tighter on the couch, away from him. Nothing in the past month seemed to hurt more than that. 

“Can’t I catch up with my partner in c-crime?” James asked but stumbling over his words, voice getting caught in his throat and a tear slipping free and rolling down his cheek. Suddenly, he was sinking to his knees and crawling to you, hands finding your knees and gripping tight. 

Half of you wanted to apparate away and forget how it felt to be held tight by James Potter. The other half of you was crumbling into the hands of your best friend. 

“Why’d you say goodbye?” He asked and you shook your head, lip caught between unforgiving teeth as you chewed harshly nearly drawing blood. “Y/N, darling, plea-”

“Dont,” You begged, arms wrapping tight around yourself as if you were trying to remember that your own embrace could be just as comforting and you didn’t need to seek comfort from James. But you wished to oh so badly. 

“Don’t ask? Don’t leave? Don’t what?” Came a watery scoff. “I’m fully prepared to beg you for forgiveness but I never knew why and I think you at least owe me that,” 

“What if you don’t like what I have to say?” 

The question hung heavy in the air but James didn’t mind so much when your eyes finally found his and stayed put. You looked into him and he looked into you. You were scared and so was he. He was tired and so were you. You were both suffering. It could be ended if only you spoke the words you’d always kept hidden. 

“I may not like what you have to say but that could never stop me from caring,” He reassured and it was the push that led you to taking the baby step you had never been able to overcome. 

“Fear was the main reason,” You began, your hands searching for James’. He easily interlocked his fingers with yours and you felt a moment of panic, like you couldn’t escape the truth. However James looked into your eyes with the warmth he’d used to have and your fears were already melting. It was as if he was lending you his bravery. 

“I was terrified that I didn’t mean to you what you meant to me when we were kids. I thought that the playing field had to be balanced and then convinced myself it never could be before I even tried to see it from your point of view.” 

“Y/N?” James prodded as you struggled to find the right words. 

“I’m trying to say- Well I- Fuck.” You growled, leaning the few inches forward before capturing Jame’s lips with your own. Despite your frustrated tone the kiss was gentle and slow. You couldn’t tell him so you needed to show him. Needed him to realize you had wanted to have petty fights with him, grow old with him, cook breakfast with him, kiss him, since you were a silly teenager and that those feelings hadn’t faded in the slightest despite the prolonged distance. 

Kissing James was everything you’d wanted it to be and nothing like you’d dreamt. Never had you thought you’d get the chance nor did you think you’d be crying your eyes out. His lips were soft and you could taste the mint lip balm his mom got him for Christmas every year. James tilted his head in perfect time with yours and his hands squeezed yours affectionately however it was what brought you back to reality. 

You were the first to pull away, shame filling up the cracks in your hear that had only grown wider with the kiss. “I know you have Lily- I just...  You should know how I feel. And now that you know and now that I realize I truly can’t do anything about it I’ll let you go,” 

James felt as if he was plunged underwater and wasn’t hearing you right. The boys hadn’t told you? You had spent all this time thinking him taken while he had been dreaming of you for months, writing you unsent letters for weeks. 

“Are you daft?” He asked, hands falling away from yours and you couldn’t help the choked sob that came with another apology. “Oh, Y/N, darling, sweet girl, I-” 

“No it’s okay!” You tried to say over heavy sobs. It was an odd sensation. You thought you’d finally be set free by James’ clear rejection but your chest only constricted more and with the rapidly falling tears you found you couldn’t breathe very well. “I-I know I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. I felt neglected and bitter when you found Lily and it wasn’t fair of me to push you away because of it. I want you to be happy and if it’s with her-” 

“We broke up two months ago,” With the truth out there, James

“-then I want you to be-” You stopped in your tracks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Short story is that I’ve missed you Y/N. Couldn’t get you out of my head and she knew and then I told her something I didn’t even know was true until I was saying it, but now I know it’s right. You’re not just a friend to me and I was too daft to see it. I-I love Lily and she has a special place in my life but somewhere along the way my heart chose you,” 

You felt as if his words would never truly sink in. “James-” You paused, unsure of what to say, eyes now drawn to the rising sun. 

“Just tell me you still want what you used to,” He interjected in the space of your silence. “Peter told me to hold you closer if you push me away and I intend to do that Y/N, I just have to know how you want me. Friend or m-more?”

The sun broke over the tips of the mountains, golden light streaming into your apartment and you turned your gaze back to James. His wide and dark eyes tugged at your heart and you found your hands back in his. You were unsuccessful in hiding your smile and James let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding in wait for your answer. 

“How about we start with some cocoa and a chat?” You asked and your lips were once more pressed against James’ as he grew eager, the weight falling off of both of your shoulders leaving you lighter than you had been in years. 

As you kissed James back in the comfort of the morning daylight you felt as if anything was possible.

--

To those who may be interested: @struggling-bee @starofthedawn @labyrinthlibrarian @wilddxchildd @nerdbirdsworld

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part six

Hey everyone! Sorry this took forever to get out, work and school have been hectic. This chapter was a little rushed because of it since I’ve only been able to write it before work each mornings, but I hope you’ll like it nonetheless. 

Taglist:

@ladybug-182 @fruit-snacc-ace @miraculous-simmer7 @lavenderjunes  @use-flamethrower 

Part one             Part two

Part three           Part four

Part five             Part six (you’re here)

Part seven         Part eight 

Things were out of control. The pipes throughout Paris were alive and there weren’t enough superheroes to keep people safe, and Ladybug had no idea what to do. She had called everyone to tell them that the weak spot of the beast was at the museum, but that didn’t stop the destruction from around Paris from happening. 

There was chaos all around her, and it made it nearly impossible to get to the actual museum itself. If it hadn’t been for that Alley Cat intervening she wasn’t sure if she would have found her way there at all. The situation had her on high alert and she couldn’t help but be reminded of the day she lost the miraculous’ and that fear had gripped her heart. It was almost enough to make her cry. 

That wasn’t going to happen again though, and she knew it. She had thought up more backup and emergency plans just for the box than she had any time before then. The box was safe inside three other boxes in her own basement. She had designed specialty locks with Max to ensure it won’t be unlocked by fall damage or a personal assistant of a heiress. She knew it was safe. The damage had been done and she had learned from it, and now could only hope that she could make up for it. She wouldn’t fall down that rabbit hole of self doubt again.

Ladybug dodged the metal pipes that tried to attack her, and with a quick group call on her yoyo she was able to make sure everyone was on the same page on where to go. Much to her surprise two unfamiliar voices responded along with the heroes she knew would be out. 

“Miss. Bug, if you have a moment?” Alley Cat's voice came clear over her yoyo in a personal call, just the two of them. 

“What is it?” She snapped with more harshness than she had meant. She was irritated at the circumstance, and only a little at the stray cat that called. 

“I found two new miraculous holders, and they’re going to join us.” She didn’t have time for this. She was already overwhelmed and Cat adding more responsibility didn’t help.

“You just so happen to find two miraculous holders right as everything goes to Hell? You sure you didn’t just hand off two to people instead of telling me you had them?” 

“Miss. Bug, I assure you that I have no interest in keeping any miraculous away from you aside from my own. I only got to speak with the one for a moment, but they claimed to have found a second miraculous on their own and wanted to give it to you. They want to join your team.” He tried his best to calm her, trying to sooth her with his voice, but it didn’t work.

It wasn’t like she trusted him to begin with, and even with his sweet words earlier that made her heart ache, she knew not to trust anyone willy nilly. 

If only Felix was the one to find the cat miraculous, Ladybug thought. Felix thought ahead and worked with her as a team, unlike the man in black leather who seemed to know where all her buttons were to push.

“Not everyone wants to take over Paris, Miss. Bug.” Alley cat said over their walkie talkie function. “Some just want to protect it.”

She didn’t have much time to dwell on what he was insinuating with the museum coming up close. She could deal with him and the new miraculous holders later and pray that they were also on her side instead of Queen Fishers. Judging by how they were on her friends list on her communicator, they hadn’t turned their Kwami’s dark. She was just going to have to trust that for now, even if she couldn’t trust the new heroes themselves.

Most of the heroes were already there by the time Ladybug arrived. Instead of a snake head like she assumed would be what they were fighting, it turned out to be the building itself that was taken over by the amok. Pipes both old and new stretched from the building to attach her friends, and with the way they all defended each other made her proud. They had all come so far from being awkward strangers to friends, in and out of the suits. At least, all but three of the people there were friends. 

There was a woman dressed in all white with gold stripes lining her suit cutting down the pipes that were attacking their small group, her cat ears flattened against her head in frustration. The tiger reminded her too much of Chat Blanc for Ladybug to feel at ease, but this time eyes like molten gold burned under the stark white mask. Eyes that looked at the sentimonster with disgust, as if each attack toward the two heros behind her was a personal insult to her. 

Ladybug dropped down to greet the outsider heroes. “You must be the two the cat brought in. How’d he find you?”

The other hero in the group was, without any doubt in her mind, the dog holder. There were floppy brown ears that faded to black at the tips placed delicately on their head, hidden among a mess of brown hair. Their suit looked similar to the markings of a hound dog, but with red belts hanging on their hips. They were the first one to greet the senior hero with a soft timid wave, their other hand holding their specialty weapon. A crossbow. Even she was impressed by how straightforward that weapon was. 

“That guy?” The tiger hero gave a humourless laugh. “He wishes he could claim to be the one to discover my talents as a hero.”

“It is less that he found me, and more like I found him.” The dog hero stated, jumping in tune with Ladybug to dodge another metal attack. “I wasn’t going to jump in, but Barkk told me you guys might need help so I joined in and found Alley Cat. Better late than never to join the hero party, eh?”

“If it wasn’t for Roaar I wouldn’t have joined in either.” The tiger hero agreed. “I’m Tigress, by the way.”

“I’m Canis.” 

“We have a lot to discuss once this battle is over with, but for now, welcome to the team.” 

After everyone had made their brief introductions they all worked together on taking down the beast before them. Tigress, ScapeGoat, HoneyBee, Carapace, and GinnyPig all focused on defence while the other five focused on getting to the heart of the problem. With the problem solvers all focused on the same goal it took only minutes to get inside and destroy the item infused with the amok, a pipe that was almost as old as Paris itself.

Ryuko destroyed the door to get them inside, Canis was able to sniff out the item among the endless pipes inside, Mattamorphis protected them with his cane against oncoming attacks, and just as they found the item Alley Chat cataclysmed it and Ladybug purified the feather. 

Everything went smoothly as soon as they were all together and soon they were all standing around in the fixed building talking, while Ladybug processed what was happening. 

Canis stood with Mattamorphis, ScapeGoat, HoneyBee, and GinnyPig talking excitedly with the other heroes, and on the other side of her there was Tigress talking about the benefits of tai chi with Ryuko and Carapace. Within one fight everyone was getting along and she didn’t know whether she should invite them to join the team or to ask them to hand over their miraculous’. 

“You’re a they/them? Me too!” She could hear ScapeGoat excitedly talking before being interrupted by Ladybugs least favourite man. 

“Oi, Canis, don’t you have something to give the Lady here?” Alley Cat yelled, his English accent coming out clearer than ever. 

“Bloody brit,” the dog hero mumbled under their breath. Ladybug wanted to laugh. Canis wasn’t from France either if their accent was anything to go by, and Tigress had a similar accent to the other cat on their team. Ladybug only hoped that once Alya returned from America where she was filming a documentary about the Sparrow that she wouldn’t have the accent to go along with it, or the French miraculous holders would almost be outnumbered. 

“I found this the other day while shopping for jewelry for my-,” Canis cut themselves off, immediately scratching their neck in embarrassment. “Well I was out shopping and I found this.”

The hero outstretched their hand to produce a miraculous Ladybug hadn’t seen in a long time. The rooster. 

“I was kind of afraid of what kind of name that hero would use.” Canis said, smiling to themselves at their own joke. “Heros need to be family friendly after all.” 

Ladybug stared at the jewel in her hand. They hadn’t hesitated to give up a miraculous, they just wanted to do the right thing. “Thank you. The Guardian of the box also thanks you, now more than ever we need to crack down and retrieve the missing miraculous’.”

“Well I am certainly glad that you are all getting along, but there is a very wonderful woman waiting for me and I’d hate to keep my date waiting.” Alley Cat stretched his arms above his head, trying to be as dramatic as possible.

“Oh my God I left my girlfriend in a public bathroom in a city we don’t even live in.” Canis gasped, slapping their hands over their face. “She’s going to kill me!”

“At least your partner didn’t shove you in a public bathroom in order to protect you,” Tigress laughed. 

“Ey, I got to go too, Ladybug. I have some friends waiting for me. Got some important business to attend to.” Carapace joined in, and soon everyone was agreeing that they had to leave. 

“Canis, Tigress.” Ladybug used her best team leader voice to get the two’s attention. She couldn’t leave things as they were. “I appreciate your help today but the miraculous’ need to go back to the Guardian.”

The heroes ears flattened.

“Ladybug,” Canis looked at the heroine with large blue eyes, tears starting to form. “Barkk gave me a kwagatama. I’d do anything to be able to keep them in my life. She means the world to me and I promise I won’t do anything reckless.”

“And I’m on your side, I swear.” Tigress brushed her near white bangs out of her face. “I’m not going to use the miraculous for anything nefarious. Roarr means too much to me and I wouldn’t do anything that could get her taken away.”

Ladybug remembered when Tikki gave her a Kwagatama. It had been her birthday and she recalled how much those little jewels meant to be gifted one by their Kwami. If Barkk was that serious about Canis, did she even have a choice? What about Tigress?

“We will all be having a meeting in two days' time, at ten o’clock, at the top of the Eiffel Tower.” Ladybug announced. “Understood?”

“Us too?” The new heroes asked.

“Especially you two, now go. Don’t leave your partners waiting.” Ladybug pinched the bridge of her nose as the group of heroes all ran off except for one. 

“I honestly thought you were going to take away their miraculous in front of everyone.” Alley Cat said, leaning forward to put his face in front of her own. “Does that mean you’ll stop asking for mine now?”

“Would you listen even if I did ask for it?”

“Not as long as I’m in France, Miss. Bug.” Alley Cat laughed, taking a step back just as Ladybug tried to snatch his hand for the ring. It was a half ditch effort she didn’t put enough energy into in order to really get it back, but the black cat didn’t seem to take offence. 

“When are you leaving Paris?” 

“Depends,” he muttered. “If my date goes as well as I hope, maybe I’ll never leave.”

“You like this girl that much?” Ladybug raised a brow. “Even though I saw you flirting with someone earlier?”

“It was love at first sight with my beloved, but I didn’t stop seeing after that, y’know.” The cat ran his fingers through his hair, wistfully looking off in the distance as if remembering Marinette fondly. “If I ever have a vote on who gets a miraculous, I’d vote for her. She ran to protect me from that sentimonster without any thought of her own safety. She has the makings of a hero, Miss. Bug.”

“Good thing you aren’t getting a vote.” She needed him to stop before her face turned as red as her suit. “There is more to being a hero than sacrificing yourself.”

The man hummed to himself, that annoying smirk never leaving his face. “I’d say you need to keep a better watch on that girl, she is definitely more brilliant than you are giving her credit for. I’d bet one of my nine lives on it.” 

[javajunkieao3]

Never Have I Ever: Post-Series Fic

Ben Gross prided himself on being smart.  And falling in love with Devi Vishwakumar?  Well, that was just about the dumbest thing he could do.

           But, it happened anyway.

           He didn’t exactly know when, but somewhere between first grade and watching her dance with that tool, Paxton Hall-Yoshida, she had gone from the person he always wanted to beat to someone he genuinely hoped would win.  Because she deserved that.  After everything she went through with her dad and then everything after, she deserved a win.

           But, did that win have to be him?

           “Of course, it’s him,” Ben said, voice colored with defeat and just a hint of indignation.  He still hated losing.  Even if he technically wasn’t in this game.  Aneesa was waiting for him over by the punch.  “It’s always been him.”  

           Beside him, Eleanor said, “What?  No, it hasn’t.  After you took her to Malibu, she wanted to choose you.”

           Ben listened incredulously as Eleanor explained how she and Fabiana had talked Devi out of choosing him.  It was fucked up, and he was going to tell her as much, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Devi, imagining how different things would have been. It would have been him with her, not that glorified meat puppet.

           “So, just for the record, it hasn’t always been him.”

           Eleanor walked off after dropping her figurative bomb and he stayed rooted in place, not knowing what to do or think next.  He wasn’t used to this level of indecisiveness and he probably would have just stayed there, staring at Devi dance with another guy, if Aneesa hadn’t come over, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

           “Hey, I thought you were meeting me over by the punch,” she said, glancing over at where he had just been staring.  “Oh wow, good for Devi.”

           Aneesa looked up at Ben, noting the tense set of his jaw.  “But…you don’t think that.”

           “What?” he said immediately, finally looking away from the slow train wreck happening across the dance floor.  “I don’t care about them.  I mean, he’s a tool who, based on what I’ve seen, can barely read above an eighth grade level.  But, I don’t care.”

           “Uh, yeah, you do.”

           “Aneesa-“

           “Ben, I saw the way you were looking at them. At her.”

           He went to argue, but then realized he had no defense.  Aneesa ducked her chin to her chest.

           “Okay.  So, I guess I’m going to go now.”  She turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back.  “Don’t mess this up for her?”

           He didn’t know what he hated more, the implication that he would mess things up or the fact that Aneesa was maybe a little right. The song ended and he watched Paxton and Devi kiss before Paxton dipped his mouth to her ear.  Devi nodded at whatever he said, and then Paxton walked away, not letting go of her hand until the distance made it necessary.  Devi’s grin widened and Ben hated Paxton even more.

           Devi stood alone on the dance floor for a moment, seeming blissfully content, and then she caught his gaze.  Ben noticed that her grin dimmed slightly and then she walked over, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

           “Look, I know what you’re going to say,” she began.

           “No, actually, you don’t.”

           She widened her eyes slightly.  “Okay.  Then, what are you going to say?”

           I know you wanted to choose me.

           “I’m happy for you, Devi.”

           It wasn’t what she expected, and not what he wanted, so they both felt out of sorts.  But then her shoulders slackened, a genuine smile spreading on her face, and Ben knew he did the right thing.  Because she deserved the win.  Even if it wasn’t him.

           “Thanks, Ben.”

           Paxton came over with two glasses of punch and handed Devi one, his now free arm going around her waist.  He gave Ben a lukewarm hello which, given their history, wasn’t entirely unfounded.

           “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” Devi said.

           “See you around, David.”

           Paxton looked at him strangely, but Devi only smiled wider.

-----

           There were only a few weeks left in the school year after the dance, and Ben did his best to keep his distance from Devi.  She hovered a bit after learning about his and Aneesa’s breakup, but then they all got busy with finals and then the schoolyear ended.  Ben was grateful for the time apart.  He didn’t know how long it took to fall out of love with someone, but he figured summer break’s three Devi-free-months should do the trick.

           That summer, he lined up a volunteer program to pad his college applications just like every other summer.  He was supposed to help out with pro bono work at his dad’s firm, but at the last minute his dad hired a law clerk instead so that he could bill out his time at a markup.  So, he was stuck with a retirement home.  Everyone volunteered at retirement homes, which meant it was the last thing Ben wanted to put on his resume.  But, there was nothing else left and it was better than nothing, so he grudgingly accepted a spot at one about fifteen minutes from his house and prepared himself for a summer of moth balls and stories about “the war”.

           Instead, he got Devi.

           “I thought you were working at your dad’s firm this summer,” Devi said.

           “Something came up.  Weren’t you supposed to do Habitat for Humanity?”

           Devi nodded.  “I had an incident with a hammer.  Apparently, you aren’t supposed to bedazzle it.”

           Ben smirked.  “You bedazzled your hammer?”

           “Oh, yeah.  I added feathers, too.  Honestly, it was an upgrade.”

           “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t want to take you,” he mocked.

           Devi shrugged.  “Probably for the best.  I mean, would you want a house built by me?”

           “You make a fair point.”

           “So, here we are,” Devi said.  “Slumming it at the retirement home.”

           “You may want to say that a little louder.  I don’t think the guy in the back with the hearing aid heard you.”

           “But, you know what, if anyone can make the best out this, it’s you and me, Gross.”

           She flashed him a smile and he felt it all the way down to his toes.  This was going to be a long three months.

----

           It turned out, Ben was surprisingly adept at being around old people, and Devi was an immediate crowd pleaser.

           “Even Marvin likes me,” Devi said.  “And I’m pretty sure he’s a low-key racist.”

           “Not that low key.  He specifically asked me to help him fill out a banking form yesterday because, as he put it, your people are good at that.”

           “Damn.  Remind me to not give him an extra pudding cup.”

           One of the long-time residents, Gladys, rolled by with her walker and said, “Benjamin, don’t forget my granddaughter is visiting this afternoon.  I told her all about you.”

           “I won’t forget, Gladys.”

           “Look at you, Benjamin.”  He rolled his eyes.  “Using the residents to get a date.  Honestly, it’s sort of genius.  If I wasn’t dating Paxton, I would totally use these guys to pimp myself out.”

           “Slow down, David.  Gladys came to me about her granddaughter.  I’m not that desperate.  I have options.”

           “Sure, you do, Ben.”

           “But, um, you and Paxton?  That’s going well?”

           He didn’t know why he asked.  You don’t ask the girl you’re in love with how her relationship is going, but he asked, and now he had no choice but to hear the answer.

           “Yeah, it is,” Devi said.  She tucked her hair behind her ears as she smiled, and Ben wished he could sink directly down into the ground.

           “That’s great.”

           “Yeah.  It is.”

           That afternoon, he asked Gladys’ granddaughter out on a date.

----

           Ben could always tell when Devi and Paxton were fighting by her mood.  She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and while in a relationship, that hadn’t changed.  He noticed it a few weeks in.  She went back into the employees’ area and shoved her bag forcefully into the cubby hole.

           “Did the cubby hole do something to you?” he asked.

           “No,” she said stubbornly.  “The cubby hole is doing nothing.  Which is the problem.  The cubby hole just sits there playing video games all day.  Which, sure, I can play some Mario Kart here and there.  I’m a team player.  But, at a certain point, enough with the stupid video games.  I am not dating freaking Yoshi!”

           Ben was quiet for a moment and then said, “I didn’t know a cubby hole had apposable thumbs to play video games.”

           She shot him a look, but then couldn’t help but laugh.

           “The cubby hole was a metaphor.”

           “Yeah, I caught on to that.”

----

           Ben found it remarkably easy to be around her, even as his feelings stayed rooted to the core, and at a certain point he became resigned to it all.  Maybe Devi was just one of those people he would always have feelings for.  Isn’t that what they said about your first love?  You could move on, but you never really forgot it.  So, he would love her and just move on.

           He dated Gladys’ granddaughter, enjoying himself but never really feeling anything beneath surface level.  But, she was nice enough, and Gladys was delighted by the pairing, even as the volunteer coordinator was not.

           “Just don’t have sex anywhere on property,” she had said in a huff.

           “I, uh, won’t.  Thanks for the clarification.”

           He was dating someone else.  He and Devi were finally sort of back to how they were before.  And then he accidentally ate pecans.

           “Oh my God, Ben, your mouth is getting huge,” Devi said, eyes wide with concern.

           “I am so sorry,” Gladys’ granddaughter said. “I thought the muffin was banana-walnut, not banana-pecan.”

           “Do you have an Epi-Pen or something?”  Devi barked at the terrified looking volunteer coordinator.

           “No, and even if we did, I don’t think we can technically use it on a non-resident.”

           “Are you freaking kidding me right now?  Do you see him?”  She pointed at Ben, whose face was rapidly growing in size.  “You know what, I’ll just handle it myself.”

           Devi dragged him out to her car, which was concerning since he knew she only just got her license the week before, and he also knew based on what she told him that her passing was a total fluke.  

           “I think I’d rather go into anaphylactic shock in there,” he said, already turning back toward the retirement home.

           “Don’t be dumb, Ben,” she said, forcefully pulling him back to the car.  “You are not going into anaphylactic shock.  I’ll take you to my mom’s office and she can give you a shot or something. She’s only a few minutes away.”

           He reluctantly got into the car, and Devi started her car, forgetting to put it into reverse before she pressed on the gas. The car lurched forward, nearly hitting the one parked in front of them, and Ben said, “Please don’t let me die in this car.”

           “No one is dying today, Ben Gross.  So, calm down, okay?  I got this.”

           It was not exactly a smooth ride, but true to her word, five minutes later they pulled into a parking spot in front of Dr. Vishwakumar’s office.  They burst into the office, Ben now leaning a bit on Devi as it became harder to breath.

           “I’m pretty sure I’m going into anaphylactic shock,” he gasped.

           “No, you are not.  You are fine.”  Devi’s words were calm, but her tone was not.

           Nalini Vishwakumar walked out of her office and stopped short when she saw Devi and Ben.

           “What in the world – Benjamin, what happened to your face?”

           “He ate pecans which, turns out, he’s also allergic to,” Devi said quickly.  “Can you give him a shot or something?”

           “Devi, you should have taken him to the emergency room!” Nalini said, rushing over to her daughter and Ben and bringing them back to an examination room.

           “The hospital was farther away.”

           Ben became to gasp for breath and Nalini hissed, “He’s going into anaphylactic shock.”

           Ben could barely breathe, but he managed a, “Told you.”

           “Well, how was I supposed to know!”  Devi said loudly.

           One shot of epinephrine and an IV full of antihistamines and cortisone later, Ben could breathe again, but Nilani made him stay for a while longer so that she could observe him.  She put he and Devi in one of the unused examination rooms, and told them to let her know if he had any more trouble breathing.  Devi sat next to him, her knees pulled tight into her chest.

           “I’m sorry that I almost killed you.”

           “You’re not getting valedictorian that easily.”

           He was joking because, yeah, his throat had almost closed up and she probably should have taken him to the hospital and not her mom’s office, but it was fine now.  Except, when he looked over at Devi, she still looked scared.  After a beat, she launched herself toward him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.  

           “Hey, it’s okay,” he said, rubbing her back.  “I’m okay.”

           She pulled away and gave his arm a light punch. “You really scared me.”

           “Yeah, well, next time I’ll double check my banana-walnut muffin actually has walnuts.”

           “And I’ll believe you when you say your throat is closing up.”

           Devi’s phone rang and he saw Paxton’s name flash on the screen.  He asked her, “Do you need to get that?”

           He watched her hesitate before sending it to voicemail.

----

           Devi and Paxton broke up a week later.  He found out from one of the retirement home residents, who he overheard telling Devi, “You’re better off, Devi.  Take it from an old woman.  You have the rest of your life to be with one person.  Now is the time to be free.  Sow your wild oats, if you will.”

           “Um, I don’t really know what that last part means, but I feel you.  I mean, I’m too young and hot to be tied down, right?”

           “Exactly.  You know, I have a grandson you might be interested in.  He’s pre-med.”

           “I appreciate the offer, Beatrice.  And offering me your grandson after I just broke up with my boyfriend?  Savage. But, I think I need to take some time by myself.”

           That afternoon during bingo, Ben casually brought up the breakup after calling out B-27.

           “Are you okay?” he asked.

           “Yeah, I’m okay,” she said.  She ran the machine and picked out the next ball.  “B-13!”  She put the ball down and said in a regular volume voice, “We just didn’t have that much in common.”

           “Yeah, I bet,” Ben said automatically.

           “Wow, okay,” Devi said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound reassuring.

           “I didn’t mean,..” he trailed off, because he kind of did.  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.”  He paused and picked up the next ball.  “N-7!”

           “Bingo!”

----

           Summer was coming to a close, and so was their time at the retirement home.  For some reason, Ben felt an impending sense of dread.  Sure, he would still see Devi, but it would be different.  Everyone else would be added back to the mix, including Paxton.  

           Their last big event at the retirement home was a movie night.  They set up a projector in one of the recreation rooms and made it up like an old theater, complete with velvet ropes and individual little bags of popcorn. They even wore old-timey usher costumes they rented from a local costume shop.

           “Does yours also smell like nachos?”  Devi asked.

           “Yeah.  I’m trying not to think about it.”

           The movie was It Happened One Night, and Devi and Ben sat in the back, watching the movie along with the residents.  It was secretly one of Ben’s favorites.  He and his mom had spent little time together when he was growing up, but she shared with him her love of old movies.

           It was the Jericho scene, where Clark Gable’s character was setting up a sheet between him and Claudette Colbert in their motel room.  He stripped down to just his undershirt, and Devi mused, “Clark Gable was super bangable.”

           “Shh,” Ben said.  “This is my favorite part.”

           Devi looked over at him and grinned.  Feeling her gaze, he glanced over and felt his breath stop when their eyes met.  They were close, and in the darkness her eyes seemed to glow.  He always thought she had pretty eyes.  Even before, when he hated her more times than he liked her. He felt an urge to lean forward. It would be so easy.  Just the slightest lean and his mouth would be against hers.  But, that would just be a kiss in the back of a dark room.  He wanted more.

           “Eleanor told me that you wanted to choose me after Malibu.”

           She blinked rapidly.  “What?”

           “After you scattered your dad’s ashes.  She said you wanted to choose me, but they made you also consider Paxton.”

           “Okay.”

           “Is that true?”

           Devi didn’t answer, so he kept talking.

           “And she said that you started the rumor about Aneesa because you thought that we were dating and you were jealous.  And, you see, I’ve had it in my mind all this time that it was always Paxton.  And that I was, I don’t know, some detour on the way, but-“

           “You were not a detour,” Devi said immediately. “You were…you were perfect.  And I messed us up.”

           “So, Eleanor was telling the truth?”

           Devi nodded.  “Yeah, she was.”

           Ben took a deep breath.  “Devi.  I’m going to kiss you now.”

           She nodded, all business, but he could hear the nerves in her voice when she said, “Okay.  Thank you for the advanced warning.”

           He leaned in and captured her mouth with his.  The kiss was sweet and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.  And in a way, they did.  There was a noise behind them, and they pulled apart abruptly.  Their supervisor stood over them and said, "Remember what I said about no sex on property?"

"Are you kidding me right now?"  Devi said.  "Who is having sex in these gross costumes?"

"You'd be surprised."

The supervisor walked away, and Devi looked at Ben.  "You don't think she meant..."

"I think she absolutely did."

"I need to take this off immediately."

[fandom-collective-writers]

Caramel Love (Isaac Newton x MC)

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Isaac Newton x Reader

Prompt: Caramel apple

Warning: Smut!!!

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1,773

Requested by: anonymous

Written by: @lordsister​/@lordsisterxotome (Click here to support me on ko-fi!<3)

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Vampire or any of its characters. All of that goodness is the property of Cybird. I do, however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not repost this on any other website.

Other notes: Honestly kind of a mess, but I’m going with it. Sometimes you need kind of a mess. Let’s hope it’s an enjoyable mess.

       She didn’t know what she was doing to him, did she? 

       Swallowing, Isaac shifted in his seat for the twelfth time (he’d taken to counting as a means of distracting himself). His pants were feeling uncomfortably tight, his “problem” growing more and more notable as time passed and she kept making those noises, licking that goddamn candied apple.

       “Isaac, are you okay?” MC called from her place on the sofa, her voice painfully innocent, and his eyes darted away from where he’d unknowingly taken to staring at her out of the corner of his eye, unable to meet her gaze and form coherent words at the same time.

       “F-Fine,” he grunted, his voice squeaking strangely at the end, and his grip on his pencil tightened as he stared holes into the page in front of him.

       MC was silent for a moment and Isaac could feel her studying him, but then she continued licking the treat in her hand, the soft slurping noises and satisfied hums she made going straight to his groin. 

       He needed release so badly, wanting nothing more than to feel that mouth wrapped around his cock, making those sinful noises. An unreasonable jealousy had taken root in the pit of his stomach that some caramel apple would be the cause of those noises instead of him. He could practically see it now, echoing through his mind from memories of her writhing beneath him on his bed, begging for more as he plowed into her. Without realizing it, his hand was already reaching to palm his erection through his pants, biting his lip to keep his whines from escaping. Hunching further over his desk, his hand moved faster against the bulge, pressing harder as his breathing grew more ragged.

       Isaac didn’t notice the object of his desires calling his name until gentle arms wrapped around his shoulders, making him jump as his hand scrambled away from his crotch. The caramel apple was still in MC’s hand, the amber colored candy shell shining faintly in the light of his room, and as he watched her pink tongue darted out to give the sweet another long lick. His breathing caught in his chest, and MC chuckled as she pressed herself further against his back so he could feel her breasts straining against his shoulders. 

       “Well,” she idled, her hand smoothing down his chest. He wasn’t proud of the way his ribcage stuttered under her touch, heart fluttering. A choked groan fell from his lips when her fingers finally reached his crotch, dropping his pencil in favor of digging his nails into his palms as he resisted the tingling urge to buck into her touch. “You’re so hard already, darling. How long have you been suffering with this?” 

       He couldn’t answer, his hips twitching with the need for more friction. The slight relief he felt at the pressure against his clothed cock only made the ache even worse, silently begging to feel more as electricity fizzed beneath his skin.

       Isaac gasped, teeth gritting, when she squeezed hard, hips bucking helplessly under her teasing ministrations. “Answer me,” she purred in his ear, nipping at the lobe as he choked on his words.

       “S-Since you started - oh god, please! - eating th-that candy apple!”

       “That’s no good~” Said confection landed on his desk with a sticky thud before MC took one of his fisted hands and brought it to her lips, pressing feather light kisses to his knuckles and fingers. “You need me to take care of it, baby?”

       “Yes,” he bit out before suffering another hard squeeze. “Yes! Please, god!”

       She smiled, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot beneath his ear before easing him up and guiding him over to the bed. Sitting him down, she knelt between his legs, prodding his thighs apart as her hands went to his belt. 

       “Do you want my mouth or my pussy?” she asked, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes. Isaac’s cherry blossom eyes were dark with lust, lips parted around gentle pants, and his cheeks were already painted an endearing pink color, deepening by the minute. 

       “Mouth,” he breathed, fidgeting. She smiled and nodded, nuzzling him through the cloth of his trousers as her fingers finished with his belt and started work on the buttons. Apparently, she wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking because a soft whine of, “Please…,” sent a tremor through her body, his pelvis rising from the bed to grind against her face.

       Lifting his hips, she helped him shimmy his pants down enough that his cock sprung free. Isaac sighed in relief at having been released from the tight confines, and MC took in his neglected erection, flushed red and seeping precum at the swollen head as he panted, leaning back on trembling arms. Longer than he was girthy, if she looked closely, she could see it throbbing, begging for her attention. It looked painful. 

       She blinked, jumping, when Isaac growled, making her gasp when a sudden roll of his hips brought the head of his cock brushing against her cheek, smearing precum across the skin. There was a glint in his eye when she looked up at him, and she knew that if she didn’t do something soon, he would.

       He inhaled shakily when her hand finally wrapped around his length, feeling the velvety skin throb beneath her fingers. Agonizingly slowly, she gave his member a single pump. “Please!” he moaned in frustration, digging his fingers into the comforter. “More!”

       Squeezing a little tighter, MC gave him another slow pump, a teasing smirk threatening to curl the corners of her lips. “Like this?”

       Groaning, Isaac bit his lip as he peered down at her, her fingers teasing the vein that ran down the underside of his cock. Reaching to lace his fingers in her hair, he gave the locks a warning tug. His tone was husky, radiating virility, as he ordered, “More.”

       For just a moment, he was suddenly so overwhelmingly masculine that it caught her off guard, stunning her for a couple of heartbeats and sending a wave of arousal to soak her panties. Part of her wanted to test this side of him, see how far she could push him before he simply shoved himself down her throat or pinned her to the bed and took what he wanted from her, but a larger part of her just needed to feel him writhe under the pleasure she gave him, all pretty and flushed and begging for more. Testing Isaac’s dominant side could come later.

       Leaning forward, she swiped her tongue over the head, tasting the salt of his precum. Isaac shuddered above her, his hand tightening in her hair as she took the tip into her mouth. Peeking up at him, she drank in the sight of him, ruddy with pleasure and panting as she teased his slit. His eyes were squeezed shut, and he nearly sobbed when she pulled away from him, his hips trying to follow her retreating mouth as his eyes flew open.

       “Look at me, baby,” she coaxed, stroking a hand along the top of his thigh. “Watch me while I suck your dick.”

       He bit his lip, but didn’t turn away, his eyes looking even more lust-clouded now as he nodded. Returning to her work, MC pressed kisses down the side of his throbbing member until she reached the base, her hands sliding up his thighs to fondle his balls.

       He was getting louder now, his head thrown back and his body trembling as the discomfort from before was replaced by rising pleasure. Her lips felt so soft on him, her mouth so warm and good, and Isaac thought he was going to lose his mind when her hand squeezed his balls, making him buck in her grip.

       It always surprised him when they were intimate like this, the way she took him into her mouth, his cock disappearing down her throat, unlike anything he’d ever seen before. It was so erotic, so beautiful to him that she was willing and wanting to give him this pleasure simply because she loved him. 

       MC’s free hand busied itself at the base of his cock, pumping and stroking what wouldn’t fit into her mouth, and he grunted, teeth gritting, when she took him a little too deep and gagged around his cock, her hand tightening unintentionally at the discomfort to her throat.

       Pleads for her to keep going fell from his lips without his notice, too engaged in the feel of her and the need for more. Always, always more. The imagery of her licking that candy apple arose in his mind, unbidden, and he bucked roughly into her mouth on a strange wave of jealousy, all restraint lost as his hips writhed and rutted. 

       He didn’t realize how close he was until a hard suck made him gasp, a rush of fiery pleasure flowing through his veins and setting his body alight. Combined with the laving of her tongue along the bottom of his length, it was all too much.

       A heartbeat too late, Isaac tried to warn her of his sudden release, feeling his balls tighten and the heat curling in his abdomen explode. She made a surprised noise, coughing a little at the hot liquid filling her mouth, but managed a few hasty swallows, some of the excess dripping past her lips to run down her chin.

       Falling back on the bed with a sob, Isaac laid there, panting with an arm thrown across his face, while she swallowed the last of his release, the lingering taste of the caramel apple lending a sweet aftertaste to the thick whiteness as it oozed down her throat.

       “Are you okay?” MC asked softly, climbing up on the bed next to him so she could run her fingers through his hair.

       “That was incredible,” he answered after a few moments spent catching his breath, peeking out at her from beneath his arm. There was something hot in his gaze, something insatiable. He didn’t give her time to wonder at it.

       He moved so quickly she didn’t even see him. One moment she was on her side, lying next to him, and the next the air left her lungs as he tossed her back against the pillows, tearing her ruined panties off her legs and bunching her skirt around her waist.

       Lying between her legs, Isaac’s eyes glinted as he licked his lips, looking for all the world like a wolf about to devour his prey, and she was more than happy to let him take whatever he wanted, her caramel apple flavored lover.

[via-whitmore]

Fic: you’re too intact (Giles/Ethan PWP)

Oneshot for the @buffyversegiftexchange and @ Aspasiathebloody

CONTENT WARNINGS: Consensual breathplay/choking, powerplay, nonconsensual voyeurism, magically infused sex

Read on AO3 

The truth of it was Ripper was never cut out for glam. By the time Bowie killed Ziggy, he was grateful the sequins and feathers were drifting to the stadium floor in spotlight and fading smoke. Ziggy was the beacon out of the dark of archives, tea rooms, and graveyards but he had no desire to start dressing like a peacock and learning to apply lip liner. He believed his mask  was more subtle. The working class hard knocks dropout was easier to live in until he could forget everything they’d wanted him to be. So what if his parents hadn’t run a grocery? When he said anarchy he saw the Council building going up like Guy Fawkes day. He had his tower to pull down, same as any of the born East Ender. The death he’d seen would wake these alley brawlers screaming in the night. He deserved London. He deserved punk.

Ethan, on the other hand, would not let glam die even if he had to keep it alive single handedly under his own skin. Ethan taught Ripper much of this--the deserving. Ethan had the ability, with magic or without, to be so a part of London that he could wear its shadows like a skin while simultaneously being a bonfire in the gray rain. He wore the safety pinned leather jacket and the pink boa and lipstick. This was not always good for his safety. And much of their gang’s lives were taken up with cracking skulls over Ethan’s appearance. But he taught Ripper about dancing on the line between wanting to disappear and demanding to be heard. It was Ethan who stole Ripper his second guitar and their record player. It was Ethan who suggested Ripper sing lead vocal while he took the role of mosh pit disciple.

Now here they were. There was no place to fuck in the one room squat they were calling a flat unless all six of them were doing it together. Nominally, nebulously, the lines broke down into Deidre and Tommy, Randall and Phillip. Now, Ripper supposed, he and Ethan. One or the other had decided they wanted to fuck alone together. Ripper couldn’t remember who’d set his eyes on whom amidst the tangle of limbs and made the decision. He would never be able to even after it all turned to ash. They might still get pulled in on public indecency but this was the first year sodomy itself wouldn’t get them arrested. At least on paper. 

“Someday we will all be free,” Ethan had said, tone flippant but eyes shining. 

It was the kind of thing one could only say without irony at eighteen, no matter how disaffected one was trying to look. Ethan always believed in a future and his ability to move into it. Ripper was trying only to think about the now.

And now had Ethan up against an alley wall, the boy’s legs wrapped expertly around his back. Ethan was biting into the leather that covered Ripper’s shoulder to stifle his moans. It was not the first time, but one of the first. The first time, Ripper never would have done what he did next.

“Stop my breath,” whispered Ethan.

Ripper didn’t know what he meant. He covered his inexperience by reaching down into Ethan’s jeans, where the two of them rubbed together, and pinching the bare cock with two fingernails. He hushed Ethan’s scream by shoving his thumb into the boy’s mouth. Ethan could smell himself on fingers that were callused not only from guitars and fistacuffs. He would never ask where they came from. He pulled at the hand and placed it over his nose and mouth as Ripper expertly got his own jeans down just enough, Ethan supporting all his own weight. Something flashed in Ripper’s eyes, the barest spark of a question. Ethan nodded. Ripper reached into his pocket, smeared his fingers with lube, and began to play expertly against Ethan’s hole.

“Oh God! Oh God!” 

Only Ethan knew what he was saying against Ripper’s palm. Sex was the only time he ever called down what was a fiction at best and an old bastard at worst. 

What could I call down and move through this man’s hands? Ethan thought distractedly. What could I make with them? What could we make?

Ripper was rod-hard against Ethan without so much as a kiss in return. Ethan rubbed against him like a cat, slid down, and turned against the wall; presenting his ass. He never wore underwear. He reached into the pocket of his lowered jeans and pulled out a black scarf, tied it around his eyes, and listened to the sound of unzipping. The deep grunt Ripper gave as he pulled his cock out and slicked it thrilled through Ethan’s body. Under the layer of body heat and the cool mist, Ethan could feel the low current of dormant magic rolling off the other man’s taut body and touching deep inside to meet his own. In his personal darkness, he felt Ripper reach out and brush a fingertip against the scarf and into his curls. Then he slid a palm under Ethan’s silk shirt and stroked up his spine. Ethan’s breath deserted him at the shockingly tender touch, his jaw falling. He wanted to buck away from it and dissolve simultaneously. There was someone gentle underneath all the fury roiling in this man. Ethan had no use for gentleness.

Liar, liar, he thought. That’s okay, beauty, we can make you anyone you want to be. All masks become real with enough time.

He was forgetting the drab surroundings, retreating into a plane of only sensation under the hands. Then Ripper pinned him with all his weight to the wall and slipped inside him. He exhaled a hot breath on the back of Ethan’s neck. When Ethan howled, the palm came back against his lips. He licked it playfully. Ripper gave him a moment to adjust, to just let them feel one another, before he drew out slightly and struck into him. 

“Faster,” Ethan begged after the third such movement.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” growled Ripper, but he picked up his pace.

Maybe he could sense how best to please Ethan. But it was a shaky assumption. He wasn’t used to this, Ethan could tell. No dirty little quickies in the hay with the stableboy at the country house. Maybe there had been a mean older boy in the dormitories. Or maybe there hadn’t been anyone at all. The thought added another layer of delight over the mounting pleasure and the low scald of magic.

“I could do anything to you,” Ripper hummed hotly against his ear. He sounded less commanding and more incredulous at the idea. Seeming to sense the slip in his guise, his voice assumed a harder edge. “Leave you here blind in a heap. Like a rat in the gutter.”

Ethan nudged the hand away from his mouth. Ripper obviously didn’t know enough to hold his turf.

“You’re in the gutter with me now,” he answered breathlessly.

Ripper didn’t know how to reply and so licked the back of Ethan’s neck. He crested Ethan further and further towards release but it wasn’t quite enough. He knew how to put the cherry on the cake.

Ethan knew how to bend a lover’s will with a spell. It did absolutely nothing for him. Devoting himself to chaos had been a way to rid himself of the controlling impulse inherent in magic. Molding the world to one’s desires was too...available. Ethan wanted to be Puck, not some Old Testament god.

He wanted the chance to give himself over to this mess of a man walking between selves. But sometimes, one had to grease the wheels just a little to see what the outcome would be.

He sent the message to Ripper’s hands where they pressed on the wall above his head, not to his mind exactly. The idea needed to be Ripper’s. Ethan was no beggar. The hands slid down and began to gently massage the sides of Ethan’s throat. He sighed encouragingly.

There was the barest instant of a halt while Ripper considered and even the fear Ethan felt added to the closeness of orgasm. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Hurt me.”

“I--”

The illusion of Ripper broke for just that breath. Ethan wasn’t worried. All things with time.

“I’ll teach you.”

It could easily have been a disaster. Ethan might have had to think through the brink of orgasm to loosen a less experienced partner’s hands and avoid danger. It was his own fault. He hated asking for what he wanted; all the discussion. But he certainly didn’t want brain damage. But Ripper knew and somewhat hated that he knew. Old combat training came back. He mentally worked backwards from the desire to subdue an opponent, placing cupped hands on either side of Ethan’s neck again. The flutter of his rapid pulse beneath his fingers excited Ripper and pulled him back into the moment. He squeezed gently, moving his forefinger to apply some moderate pressure just below the trachea. Ethan’s legs tightened spasmodically around Ripper’s body and he bucked as he came. Ripper released his hold quickly, clutching Ethan close as he shuddered and muffled his cry in Ripper’s neck.

“Got you,” Ripper gasped. “I’ve got you.”

It was a long moment before Ethan wrapped his arms around Ripper in return.

“You’re good,” he gulped.

“You’re a manipulative little shit. And if you ever control me again, I’ll break your fucking jaw.”

“Promise?” 

Ethan batted his eyelashes. Ripper pushed him away with a sneer. As Ethan stumbled backward, Ripper disguised catching him by the shoulder by steering him onto his knees.

“I gave you what you wanted.” His voice caught, then turned hard. “Your turn.”

Ethan grinned. As he obliged, neither of them knew someone out in the night rain had watched the moment with a hidden set of animal eyes. He admired the look of the two punk lovers. Watching them in the first fumblings of sticky submission almost made Spike wish he could still breathe. He did not know he stood several feet from a boy trained in every way to tear him apart. He did think perhaps it was time for a new look for such new and brazen times; something to lure such kids in their dark clubs. 

It’s not the place of this work to ask if the boy would have done so had he caught the vampire staring. He only tossed back his head with a silent cry against the brick and let the cold air expand his lungs before he did up his pants and offered a hand to the one on the ground. Then they walked through the mist past the one who had been watching. 

They raced each other up the stairs to their squat like children. They took off their damp clothes and didn’t bother to put on new ones. Ethan covered his surprised squeak when Ripper pulled him down to lay at his side on the mattress. If they fell asleep together, it wasn’t anyone’s business.

[characcoon]

The Way of Business

Words: 2143

Summary: How Donnie first met Charles. 

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

"I'm trying my best to not question, but… "Cat claws, be sure they fell naturally" and he wrote the last word with capital bold letters." Donnie pokes the shopping list with his finger "And my favorite, "Coffee beans (digested)", which, by other terms, means coffee that has been shat."

"Keep not questioning." April says, hands on her pockets "It's witchy, magic stuff. We already went through this, Dee. Sometimes it doesn't make sense and that's fine."

"I'm aware. But it's not everyday you have poop coffee on your grocery list. What's he even going to do with these?"

"I don't think that anything Barry does should be our business."

April and Donnie walk around a busy street in the shopping district of the Hidden City, trying to identify the things on Draxum's list only by looking at the shops and vending stands, since the old sheep Yokai didn't think of writing where exactly to find the stuff.

"Maybe it's a cake." Donnie mumbles, stopping by a counter and quickly examining some items "Mikey's been teaching him some more recipies, he might be returning the favor by making Yokai food."

"Pooped coffee cat claws cake! Yummy." April gags, then points at a jar filled with sparkly deep blue glitter labelled mermaid bone powder "I think we need that one."

They continue shopping for another 20 minutes until they reach a part of the district that is definitely more shady and quiet. Sales are made among whispers and the shops have much less products on display, everything of importance stocked in the back. 

As April intimidates a merchant to lower the price of the cat claws, Donnie spots something familiar in a corner and curiously turns around to look. It's one of Big Mama's guards, but not just any guard; it's that specific one that seems to be on a higher rank, that was at the scene when the spider Yokai first took the Shredder to make him her champion. Donnie hums, watching as the guard dives between two stores and vanishes into another street.

"Got it for half the price." April comes to him, smiling proudly and shaking a tiny bottle filled with cat claws, then notices Donnie isn't paying attention "Earth to Donnie?"

"Wanna put some noses where they don't belong?" He sends her a trickster smile, bumping his fingers together.

"That depends, are you going to explode the whole street again?"

"Scoff!" the turtle scoffs "I saw one of Big Mama's guards going that way."

"And we need to go after them because…"

"Because it's her personal guard. The personal, stealthy, silent guard. The guard she sends to kill people without leaving a trace. The guard that probably has a cool name that makes people shiver in fear upon hearing it. The guard I just saw going that way."

April puffs her cheeks and blows out air in sections, a thoughtful expression on her face. Then she sighs, puts the bottle on Donnie's hand and starts walking.

"Alright, let's seek trouble, why not."

Donnie silently celebrates and dashes across the street, April right on his tail, following the same path of the guard. They go between the stores and find themselves in a smaller street with much less stores that are much more shady, to the point of being just holes between the brick walls. They reach the end of the street, turn to the only side available into another short road that hits a dead end. The guard is on that far end, with their back to the two curious teens who are slowly and quietly getting closer by using the little things around that can be used as barricades.

“We could make business faster if you tell me what you want straight up, I don’t do well with riddles.”

Donnie peaks behind a depression in the wall he and April are hiding in and notices a big trashcan shoved inside the wall with some christmas lights dangling from the sides and some mechanisms bending the lid and forming a roof. The guard is in front of whoever’s speaking, neither Donnie or April can see who.

“Or you could send the Great Milf here personally! Would love to catch up with her, if you know what I mean.”

Donnie gags in silence.

“She wants the Barnacle.” the guard speaks, voice muffled and distorted.

“The Barnacle! Wow! And why would I have that, exactly?”

“You were seen with it, at the docks. Took the package from Captain Piel.”

“Stupid lump of rotten flesh ratted me out, huh.” the other mumbles and sighs “Alright, I’ll get it, gimme a minute.”

April and Donnie glance at each as they hear ruffling and some crashing, the immovable form of the guard giving no indication of noticing the eavesdropping happening behind them.

“Is she gonna pay me at least?” the guard doesn’t answer “Y’know, in my land we have this saying. Quem cala consente. It means “silence means yes”, so I’m expecting some good cash unless you say words. No? Nothing? Talking to a door is funnier than talking to you.”

“The Barnacle, Charles.”

With a flicker of their wrist, a kunai appears between the fingers of the guard. Donnie instinctively moves his arm to his back, near his staff, and April gets into a better position to either fight or run.

“Is that handle made of Calligraphy Stone?” the merchant, possibly named Charles, speaks with excitement “Oh, damn, how much do you want for that?”

“Not for sale.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’s Calligraphy Stone!”

“Not for sale.”

“You’re boring. Y’know that? Boring. Wanna know what’s for sale? The Barnacle inside this box, this pretty doormat I made this morning and this GUN!”

A loud bang can be heard and the guard violently flies backwards, a blast of light illuminating the whole street. The guard smacks hard on the floor, smoke coming out of their chest, unmoving. Charles can now be seen; it’s a raccoon, very short, doesn’t go past Donnie’s knees. His tail is pink and orange, he wears duffle bags strapped to both sides of his hips, metal bracelets taking both his entire forearms and a gray sleeveless hoodie. On his face, big steampunk goggles and a wide, manic grin. On his hands, a gun definitely made out of garbage and nonsense, reminiscent of a grenade launcher, bigger than his whole body.

“I lied! The gun is not for sale!” he laughs and points the gun to the guard again “Now scram before I blast you into pieces!”

April notices the guard starting to move first, but doesn’t have time to warn everyone; they’re up and running in a second, blade slicing where Charles’ standing. The raccoon hops above the slash, smacks the guard in the head with the gun and drops it, then dashes towards the exit, but takes a sharp turn and bumps into the two teens. Before any of them can make any noise, he removes a disk from one of his bags, puts it on the floor and clicks. A translucent green wall blinks for a second before going orange. Donnie opens his mouth to speak, but the raccoon turns and shushes him so hard he even forgets what he was going to say. April goes equally quiet.

The guard finds his footing again after the blow and walks a few quick steps to the exit of the road, stopping right in front of the hideout of the other three. Charles silently clicks on his bracelets and long, sharp claws form as gauntlets on his hands and he gets into position, fur standing up, body tense and ready. Donnie’s breath gets caught on his throat when the guard swiftly turns their head and locks eyes with him, even knowing that the disk on the ground is some sort of cloaking tech making them all invisible.

The guard stands down, turns to the end of the road and walks back to the trashcan. They’re after the Barnacle, after all. Before they can reach it, however, the raccoon takes a small switch from his pocket and clicks on a button. The lid of the trashcan slaps close with a car alarm noise and the entire thing, wall included, poofs out of existence.

The road, not a dead end anymore, extends back to the one Donnie and April were previously on. Passersby and merchants turn to look at the wall that vanished and the guard just standing there, hand stretched to grasp nothing. Their stance slowly becomes neutral and it takes another minute for them to go away as a blur of movement.

Only then Charles snorts, so sudden and loud that Donnie jumps away from him.

“Idiot.” he continues laughing, disengaging his gauntlets and the cloaking device.

“That was so cool!” April speaks up “You played them so hard!”

“Yeah, I-” his ears go up and he flinches, remembering there were other people there too. “GUN!”

He turns around with two properly sized guns on each hand, pointing one to each of them. Donnie shows his hands and April smiles.

“You’re a human.” he shakes a gun at April “The hell you doing down here?”

“Shopping.”

“And the mecha-frog?”

“Frog?!” Donnie makes an offended expression and scoffs “Frog!”

“Are you a pokemon, only speaks your own name?”

“Wh- no! I’m a turtle!”

“Be nice, Dee. This dude’s super cool. And has a gun pointed at your face.”

“You should listen to the lady, Dee.”

“My name is Donnie.”

“Okay, Donnie Dee.” Charles opens his hands and his guns turn into liquid metal that surround his arms and turn back into being bracelets “I gotta go now. See ya around.”

He pulls the same switch he used to make the wall disappear and opens a side panel.

“Wait, you sell stuff, don’t you?” April takes Draxum’s list from Donnie “Do you have crystallized coral?”

“I do, yeah. But the shop’s all the way up to the surface now, so you should finish everything you have to do down here first. Y’know, time efficiency.”

“We are done here, right?” Donnie asks and analyzes the list “If you have the coral, digested coffee beans and petrified wood. Did we get the owl feathers?”

“We did.” April answers.

“Then.” he turns to the raccoon “Do you have those other three items?”

“100%.” Charles smiles “Hold onto me and we can warp there, pronto.”

Charles extends one hand to them and they grab one finger each, April making a squeaky noise. He clicks on his switch and they all teleport away.

Donnie recognizes the street they appear on, it’s not too far from the Lair. The trashcan store shoved into the wall is there, creating another dead end that he’s sure didn’t exist before. Charles rushes to it, opens the lid and jumps inside, sighing in relief.

“Alright, let’s get to business. Coral, wood, coffee. Talking about coffee, would you like some to drink? I always have one jar ready.”

“It’s not digested, right?” Donnie makes a face.

“No, it’s black coffee. From the store. Completely normal, I assure you.”

Donnie asks for a cup and the raccoon serves him, then asks which street they’re on. The turtle answers, gets a thanks and watches as the small merchant goes around opening drawers and boxes.

“What’s the Barnacle?” Donnie asks “And why would Big Mama want it?”

“It’s an invisible creature.” Charles answers, putting one big box with crystal coral by the counter “A plague. Sticks to the boats and sucks out life force to grow bigger. When a ghost ship is found and they can’t find out why everyone’s dead, they blame the Barnacle. 80% of the time they’re right.” another box, with petrified wood balls “And I think you can guess why Big Mama wants it. The damn thing might have a preference for boats, but it can stick to any wood structure.”

And finally, a bag of digested coffee beans.

“Pick as many of these as you need.” he points to the coral and wood “Only have this bag of coffee for sale. Stupid spider shut down more of my contacts.”

“You two seem to have some history” April starts to collect some wood balls.

“Oh, dear, if only you knew.” the raccoon laughs “You gotta keep a hold of the competition. It’s how business go.”

After taking the necessary quantity and paying, they say their farewells. Charles slides two business cards to them before they leave.

Quinquilharias, the card says, with a resume of the services and products in the back of it. Donnie hums as he reads it, considering returning more times soon, since it’s so close to the Lair and he’s the most charismatic merchant he’s ever met. And his coffee is decent enough.

And of course, he would be lying if he says he’s not curious about what’s his deal with Big Mama.

[elizabeethan]

Forget What I Said (It’s Not What I Meant) 1/3

Happy New Year! The start of 2021 also means it’s time for ✨Captain Swan Neverland New Year✨ so here is my contribution! @neverlandnewyear

Thank you to my co-mods and friends @xhookswenchx and @donteattheappleshook for looking over this for me and also for helping to make my Neverland dreams come true 🥺🥰

This is part 1 of 3 (famous last words)

Rated E for smuts and language

~3200 words

Read on Ao3

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones​ @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64​ @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89​ @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says​ @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious​ @ouatpost​ @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook

Neverland is worse than Hell. Emma’s never actually been to Hell, of course, but it’s an easy conclusion to draw based on the experiences she’s had so far. The heat and humidity is enough to drive a woman mad, and the constant buzzing in her ears from the random insects is becoming nauseating. If she has to swat at her own ear one more time she thinks she’ll snap altogether. But the thing that’s driving her out of her mind most severely is, well, him.

It’s so completely unfair how good he looks. He looks sweaty all the time, but it’s so incredibly sexy because it’s almost as if he’s glistening. The leather clings to his chest in a way that should be illegal, showing off the coarse hair that she’s been dying to run her fingers through.

She gets it, okay? She should be focusing on finding her son and getting the hell out of here. It’s irresponsible of her to be thinking about all the things she wants to do to Captain Hook while on a mission to rescue her kid from Peter Pan. She’s thought it all before. She hasn’t stopped thinking about it. She also hasn’t stopped thinking about him.

She recognizes that she’s behaving childishly. Ignoring him on the ship until he practically corners her in a room is childish. Constantly rolling her eyes at everything he says is childish. But it’s the only thing she can do to keep her damn hands off him.

It became really bad when he started chopping down vines during their trek to make a path through the jungle. The way he swung his cutlass effortlessly through the air until the branches snapped shouldn't have drawn her eyes to the muscles in his back, but it did. And the way he authoritatively led them through the island, begrudgingly telling them all that they needed to know despite how much he clearly hates being here, shouldn't have made her cheeks redden, but it did. Luckily, she can blame that one on the heat of the island.

Honestly, it was only a matter of time. A woman has needs, and when she’s trapped in a dangerous and emotionally exhausting situation for weeks on end, well, who can blame her for taking matters into her own hands… perhaps literally? She nearly loses what little self-control she has left when he starts breaking branches against his knee to use for the fire, his eyes boring deep holes into her own when he catches her staring. Something in her snaps when she wonders what else his strong arms can do.

She chokes down the water inside the coconut she’s (not) enjoying and stands abruptly, noting that her parents have turned in and Regina sits quietly by the fire, and walks past him quickly so that she’s almost at the edge of the clearing when she hears his deep, rumbling voice. “Swan?” he asks, making to stand from his spot beside the fire he always keeps lit.

“I need a minute,” she says under her breath, trying so hard not to turn around and drag him with her. She really just needs a minute away; maybe she can find a stream and splash her face with some water or something.

She’s almost made it out of the clearing when she hears him shuffling behind her, following closely enough that she can feel the heat radiating off of him. Or maybe that’s her. Whatever.

“Hook, I really just need a minute,” she insists. Sure, a part of her still insists on taking matters into her own hands, but what she really thinks she needs is to just be away from the source of her… affliction until she can get over it.

“I heard you, Swan, but it’s dangerous out here on your own. Just allow me to follow behind you to prevent you from falling into any source of danger.”

She rolls her eyes. The last thing she needs is for him to be gentlemanly right now, dammit.

She’s too on edge to argue with him. She thinks anything that comes out of her mouth will be a shout, or maybe that her voice just won’t work at all. “Fine, just... stay away from me,” she finally says, moving swiftly through the thick jungle.

He does something behind her, something between a scoff and a chuckle, and her left eye twitches slightly as fire races through her veins. “If the lady insists,” he says with a timber in his voice that genuinely makes her breath catch in her throat.

“God,” she says, whipping around to face him and finding him standing much closer to her than she expected. “Do you have to talk like that?”

“Like what, darling?” he asks, a smirk growing on his face. He juts his jaw out towards her as his tongue licks along his lower lip, causing her breath to catch.

“Like we’re living in 19th century England.”

“Not sure what that means, my dear, but,” he steps closer to her, raising one brow and smirking as he breathes, “I’m more than willing to let you teach me.”

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,” she says, letting her eyes flutter shut as she shakes her head.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

She clears her throat. “Fuck,” she breathes. He cocks his head to one side and narrows his eyes in a way that shouldn’t be sexy but so is.

“You need only say the words, love.”

That’s it. He just snapped her like the branches over his knee.

She grabs the lapels of his stupidly ostentatious coat and tugs until his lips are crashing against hers and she’s swallowing his gasp. It’s hot and rushed and wrong, but the fire in the pit of her stomach tells her that something that feels this good can’t be bad.

She slinks her fingers around his neck until they’re pulling at the soft hair at the base of his skull, tilting his head and hers so that the kiss becomes deeper. He groans at the sensations of her fingers running along his scalp in her desperation as his hand finds her jaw and his hook lands on her lower back to tug her against him. When her hips collide with his, she feels the evidence that he wants this as much as she does. Actually, he hasn’t been shy about that, and she’s been in complete denial, so it follows that he probably wants this even more than she does.

She moans far too loudly when he starts trailing his lips down her neck, biting and licking on his way until he reaches her collarbone. She pulls at his hair some more as his wrist continues to press into her back and his hook pokes against her ass. She can hardly breathe as he follows the valley between her breasts with his mouth until he’s shoving her shirt out of the way, likely stretching the fabric beyond repair. She doesn’t care. When his lips press firmly against her hardened left nipple through her shirt, she breathes out, “yes, fuck, yes.”

His hand traces feather-light patterns up her stomach as it reaches under her shirt and forces her bra out of the way until he’s breathing over her exposed nipple. He licks it lightly, just barely making contact but adding enough moisture so that the breeze of the jungle makes her shiver. He then begins sucking it into his mouth and alternating licks and nips until she cries out. She’s so keyed up that she wonders if she can come from this alone. “Is this what you want, Swan? Is this why you’ve been so captious with me lately?” She can’t breathe enough to respond to him verbally, so instead she moans and nods her head as he trails his tongue to her neglected nipple. “Is it because you want me to touch you?” She nods again. “You want me so badly that you can hardly stand to even be near me?”

“Yes,” she moans. He releases her nipple with a pop and moves his deft fingers to the waist of her pants, tickling her skin as he goes. “God, yes. Please take those off.”

He obliges, tugging at her pants until they’re around her ankles before he sinks to his knees in front of her and breathes heavily against her quaking core. She thinks he might press his mouth to her— she’s desperate for him to do just that— but instead, he lifts one of her legs and ducks so that he’s settled between her knees with her pants behind him, caging him close to her once he stands again. “And what will you have me do with you, love?”

She whimpers pathetically when he lifts her at the knees, her core not quite touching him but dangerously close, and she throws her head back and hits it against the tree she’s pressed to. “God dammit, Hook, just touch me.”

He hums out a laugh as he continues to support her weight with his hooked arm and reaches between them with the other, pushing her soaked underwear to the side and stroking a finger up through her folds. “So wet for me already, Swan,” he murmurs darkly against her neck. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“Touch me,” she demands again. Then, with a bit more honesty, “make me forget where the hell we are.”

He kisses her deeply, his tongue dancing between her lips, then pulls away to ask, “do you want me to use my hand, or my cock?”

Her breathing stops. She pulls his hair at the base of his neck so that he’s looking at her and can see her pupils blown wide with arousal. “No time for hands,” she tells him breathily, reaching her own fingers down to the laces of his trousers and tugging them loose.

“No? Are you saying you're so wet for me already that you don’t require any... preparation?”

She shakes her head as she reaches inside his slacks and groans when she feels his marble length twitching in her grasp. How something can feel so soft and so hard all at once is astounding, but not as astounding as the amount of space his arousal takes up in her hold.

“Yes. Now would you just fuck me, please?”

“As you wish,” he breathes, guiding his hand to his length and tickling his fingers against her entrance to ensure that she’s slick enough for him to tuck himself inside (she is). When he plunges his cock into her, she cries out again at the pressure and the delicious burn of him stretching her. She was right about him being well-endowed judging by the irresistible feel of him inside her.

He gives her a moment to adjust, then begins to thrust into her at the perfect pace. She’s never experienced that before, usually needing to tell her lover to slow down or speed up several times before they finally get it right. But Killian seems to know exactly what she needs. It’s like he’s a machine, recognizing each of her responses and adjusting accordingly in order to bring her the most pleasure she’s ever felt.

Her shirt has fallen back down so that he no longer has access to her breasts, so instead, he latches his mouth to a spot just below her collarbone and marks her as his, at least in this moment. The way he continues to thrust deeply into her at the perfect angle while his lips roam across her skin sends a shiver down her spine, but when he presses himself more firmly against her to bear her weight so he can move his hand, she nearly screams. His good hand travels to her clit and starts rubbing furious circles against her as his thrusts maintain their steady, perfect pace, and she would be in awe at his coordination if she wasn’t seconds from reaching the most powerful orgasm she’s ever had.

He keeps up with the circles on her sensitive nerves and she tightens her belly and core around him as his velvet length glides through her. She’s never been so close to orgasm in such a short time, possibly not even at her own hands. She can’t stop the manic whimpers and moans coming from her lips as she tightens every part of herself around him before finally letting go as ecstasy washes over her.

He continues to pump into her as she rides out her high, not stopping until she’s a twitching mess before he stops to pull out of her. He holds her close to him as he works himself up with his own hand, somehow still supporting her weight against the tree, before she reaches down and takes over until he’s spilling himself onto the ground at his feet, his head resting against her neck. He kisses against her skin as he comes down from it, and she revels in the softness of his hair at her fingertips for a moment too long.

She realizes what the hell she’s doing once her brain turns back on and then starts wriggling in his hold until he releases the back of her knee and backs up slightly so that her legs fall. Her pants are still on under her boots and wrapped around him, so she’s nearly sent to the ground before he realizes what’s happening and catches her. He ducks down again so that he can free himself and then stands before her awkwardly, his softening length still hanging out of the laces of his trousers.

“That was, uh,” he starts breathlessly, scratching behind his ear.

“A one time thing,” she answers, shaking her head to clear her mind and pulling her pants up. “Don’t follow me, wait five minutes. Go get some firewood or something,” she insists as she starts back towards the camp, still working on her pants as she walks.

She starts to think about how it might be a very, very bad idea for him to get more firewood, based on the fact that watching him handle the branches is what brought her here in the first place, but before she can think too deeply into it, he says, “as you wish.”

Her heart starts racing, and it’s not because of the heat or because she just had an earth shattering orgasm or because she’s turned on by his physical appearance. She could handle those things.

No, this is something else entirely. And rather than deal with it, she does what she does best and pushes those feelings deep, deep, deep into herself, never planning to address them again.

(She really should just stop making plans.)

~~~~

They spend endless days and nights in Neverland. Time is impossible to keep track of, and it starts to make sense why Neal had kept tic marks on the wall of his cave. The only way she’s able to keep track of how many days pass is by counting the amount of time’s she’s had sex with Killian Jones.

She can’t seem to stop. It started as a one time thing, an itch that needed scratching, but she finds now that she needs the release he gives her more than she needs to sleep. So, each night when they find a place to set up camp, they wait for her parents and Regina to fall asleep and sneak away to find a sturdy tree to fuck against.

On the ninth night, she notices Killian talking to her parents suspiciously and they inform her that Neal is alive, allegedly. As if the prospect of her ex dying and coming back to life in the span of two weeks wasn’t enough for her, he pulls her aside on their way to the Echo Caves and tells her that he was hesitant to tell her because he wanted to spare her feelings until they could confirm that Neal was alive. She scoffs. She has no feelings when it comes to Captain Hook.

They get to the Echo Caves and she learns that he feels the opposite. He’s starting to have feelings for her. Real ones. She stares at him because there’s nothing else she can do, until the ground starts to shake and the bridge starts to build itself.

She tells Neal the truth. He hurt her so much, but she knows that a part of her will always love him. It kills her to admit it to herself, never mind to him.

She fucks Hook angrily that night, with him lying on his back atop his stupid coat and her riding him mercilessly until she feels some semblance of control over herself. They’re far too close to the camp for how loud she is, but when they return, she’s certain everyone is still fast asleep.

The two grown men fight over a lighter. Neal gets grabbed by a shadow and she’s frozen. Hook gets grabbed by one and she screams and summons enough magic to light the fucking candle. She ignores the feelings of relief at him being alive when they meet later that night, convincing herself that the extra long kisses mean nothing.

They get Henry back. As much as she’s grateful to be off of that damn island, she almost grieves the loss of her new nightly routine with the stupid asshole.

He knows exactly how to make her tick, so when he finds her on the deck and says something about how he never doubted her for a second, she kisses him just to shut him up. She can’t possibly listen to his praises, filled with emotion and longing and until I met you, so she pushes them aside in favor of the pleasure she knows he’ll bring her.

The truth is, she can deal with everyone else saying things like that to her. When her parents say it, she can rationalize that they’re obligated to encourage her. When Henry says it, it’s because he believes in everyone, not just her. When Neal says it, she doesn’t even believe him at all.

But then Hook says it. She doesn’t want to believe him, but she does. His honest and raw words unhinge her because she has no reason not to believe them. He owes her nothing and has nothing to gain from attempting to woo her because he’s already had her in his bed- well, jungle- countless times. So she believes him. And she’s terrified.

So she continues to do what she does best. She ignores her feelings until she can’t anymore, and she deals with them by replacing them with the pleasure he brings her. A part of her tells her that she can’t continue doing this, but a bigger part of her tells her that it’s okay, because once they get back to Storybrooke, he’ll leave in favor of the sea or of finding another realm to pillage and plunder. Once he’s gone, she can forget any of this ever happened and move on.

It’s a perfect plan, except it doesn’t work. Because he stays.