#do the deed because my fucking stomach hurt so bad.

[termagax]

last night i wanted to practice water sports in the bath, and than i realized after i got in, that i didn't have enough piss so i got out and drank like half a gallon of water, but i guess i drank too much too quickly and ended up puking into my sink :(

HOW FAST DO YOU HAVE TO DRINK WATER TO PUKE :( im sorry. good motivation to keep yrself hydrated in advance just in case the mood strikes i guess.

[bluegiragi]

Complicated - Ghost/Soap [FIC]

[AN: I don't usually write fics and this definitely won't become a trend, but I had a major brainworm today and had to get it down on the page.

Relevant content tags: miscommunication, mutual pining, ghost being an idiot, angst angst ANGST IF THIS DOESN'T HURT THEN I DIDN'T DO A GOOD ENOUGH JOB.]

ghostsoap but where simon, hurt by a history of shitty relationships and the residual trauma of watching his father destroy his mother, sabotages his own relationship with soap out of fear, terrified by how strongly he feels for the man.

--

He ends it just as it's supposed to start. 

It's a mistake from the beginning, a culmination of adrenaline running high after a job well done, just the slightest buzz of alcohol and Johnny's voice in his ear the entire night. It has him running hot, running stupid, but all he can think of in the moment is how good it feels to kiss Soap so hard it hurts. They tumble into Soap's room in a mess of limbs and he shoves Soap down onto his bed, gets his mouth on him, his hand on him and the sounds he makes, fuck, the feeling of his hands in his hair as he presses his teeth into the curve of his ass-

it's so good that it's heady, makes him more delirious than a fully stocked bar could and he's stuck in the haze of Johnny, Johnny, Johnny and it's only when he hears how he moan his name ("Si, oh fuck - Simon!) as he cums that he realises-

-he loves him.

the realisation opens up a pit in his stomach. it's like someone just dropped him into an ice bath and suddenly he's seeing this in all it's naked, horrifying glory. how he's in his own sergeant's bed, how Soap is petting at his face, almost sleepily, dazed, sated, smiling at him like he's hung the fucking moon and stars and fuck. Fuck.

Ghost shoots to his feet so fast it's almost comical, methodically striding over to where he discarded his clothes when he stumbled into the room (when he wasn't thinking) to drag on his pants, his shirt, his fucking mask (goddamnit). Soap watches him from the bed, his eyebrows lifted in a half-amused half-confused quirk.

"Where you off to?"

"Back to my room."

"Y'know, most people like to linger after they do the deed. Bask in the afterglow." 

Soap stands to cross the room and Ghost almost swears. He can't find his boots.

"You have done this before, right L.T?" Soap says it to tease, but a hint of sincerity creeps in, a tentative olive branch in face of whatever thing he must think Ghost is doing.

"I'm not a blushing virgin if that's what you're asking."

"It's not. I'm asking about your history."

Ghost freezes. The pit in his stomach widens into a black fucking hole. 

"...I have one."

Soap whistles. Ghost, having finally caught sight of his remaining boot, yanks it on almost fast enough to tear through the sole. 

"That bad huh? What happened?"

"Things got complicated."

"And this - this isn't complicated?" Soap asks with a smile. Ghost stares at him for a moment, as the dawning reality of his situation sinks its claws into him. It is. God, it might just be the most complicated things have ever been for him. Fucking hell.

Ghost turns away, does up his laces and gets to his feet.

"Not yet."

"Yet? What's that supposed to mean?" A hint of defensiveness is starting to creep into Soap's voice. Ghost needs to get out of here before that hint burrows under his skin and convinces him to do something idiotic, like get back into bed with the (still naked) man who he just realised he's in too deep with.

"Nothing. See you topside." is all he says as he takes a step towards the door, and then suddenly Soap is there, blocking his view and his stride with a hand on his chest.

"Simon, what's wrong? You're...something's up." he says, and the clench of his heart at the sound of his concern has Ghost gritting his teeth.

"What, because I don't want to spend the night?" 

"The fuck?" Soap laughs out, almost incredulous. "I didn't say that, I j-just -" he stutters, Ghost's mind almost coos and he wants to rip that voice out of his head and suffocate it under a pillow. "What is wrong with you? We fuck once and now I'm chopped liver?"

Johnny stares at him, a crease deepening between his eyebrows, a slight lift to his lips like he's wanting this to be a joke, something in passing, not what he's beginning to understand it is. And the fear, the anger, at Johnny for making him feel this way, for overcomplicating things, at himself for letting him in - it spills out like something poisonous in Ghost's throat, black and putrid and smelling like his father's breath on his worst nights. 

Ghost fixes him with a glare. 

"Is it really so impossible for you to understand this meant more to you than it did to me, Sergeant?"

He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth but they're out there. Hanging in the air, frozen. Soap stares at him, unmoving.

"...What?" he says in a rasp like in that moment he's giving him a chance to take it back. But Ghost's throat is closed up with something thick and the moment passes and Johnny's expression shutters, eyes blinking, his lips curling up into a wry mirthless grin. He shakes his head at the floor, a hollow laugh jerking out of his chest.

"Alright then," he mutters almost too quiet to hear and then he looks back up at Ghost and the smile falls. "Get out."

"Soap-"

"Get the fuck out." 

Ghost is more or less shoved into the corridor and the door slams behind him with a jarring finality. The silence that falls afterwards feels emptier somehow and for a second, he considers going back inside. Knocking at the door, begging Johnny to let him in, apologising, saying it was all a mistake. Saying that he loved him.

But he doesn't. He hasn't got the parts to do this right. He knows that. His father knew it. Every relationship he's ever had knew it, knew there wasn't enough material to build anything in the pit that was Simon Riley. Staying, giving either of them hope, letting this thing fester into something he'd have to watch die one day -

- this was a mercy. Soap would find someone better. He'd understand in the end.

Simon walks back to his room.

--

Inside, Soap waits until he can't hear Ghost's footsteps anymore before he slides down the length of the door and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. His stupid, burning eyes.

"Stupid," he hisses quietly to himself. "You stupid, fucking idiot."

--

The next day they're called into a briefing and run into each other in the hall. It's tense. Ghost stares down at the circles under Soap's eyes, how those baby blues widen then flatten into something (colder, his thoughts unhelpfully supply) simpler.

"Sergeant," Ghost says in acknowledgement. Business like always. They've always worked well together. After this passes, after Soap...recovers from whatever shit got into his head that Simon fucking Riley was worth any part of him -

"Lieutenant."

Soap's eyes flick away, forward, and he brushes past him into the briefing room, leaving Ghost standing out in the hallway. 'Lieutenant'. It's his title, there shouldn't be anymore to it. But -

"Let's get ourselves a win yeah, L.T?"

There's something tight in his chest. Ghost clenches his jaw.

When he walks inside the room, Soap is far over on the right side, sitting next to Gaz, chatting animatedly. He doesn't pause when Ghost walks past, doesn't even look as he settles into his seat. Price shoots him a glance from the front. Ghost stares resolutely ahead.

--

"What the fuck did you do, Simon? Shit in his breakfast?" Price levels an accusatory stare his way once they're alone in his office and instinctively, Ghost bristles. And then the look on Soap's face last night comes back to him, the rasp of his "...What?". That last chance he didn't take.

He deflates, and pours himself a glass of the whiskey sitting on top of his captain's desk.

"I ended something before it could start."

Price's eyes soften, almost imperceptibly.

"Oh, son. You didn't."

"It's for both our sakes," Ghost says with a finality, and downs the glass in one go.

[rayd3nnn]

Hello! (If your ok and comfortable with this)

Could you write something angsty with like phantom and one of the ghouls of your choice doing the deed and like they are degrading him and he gets in his head and thinks it's real and is no longer enjoying himself but doesn't want to Safeword because he's scared of angering/disappointing the other? But they eventually find out? Maybe some comfort at the end? It can be any ghoul, but I would probably recommend either dew or Swiss. :)

Abso-fucking-lutely. Thank you so, so, so, so much for your ask! @madilizon

Trigger warnings: smut (not the entire fic.), angst, usage of safeword (later on), comfort, degradation, slight choking, please let me know if I missed any!

Characters: Dewdrop, Phantom, mentions of Swiss (one or two)

Pairing: Dewdrop/Phantom.

Below the cut if you will <3

Purple.

Loud moans and grunts could be heard from within Dewdrop’s bedroom. Phantom lying on his stomach, doggy style with his face shoved into the pillows as Dewdrop rails into his ass mercilessly. Tears of pleasure streamed down Phantom’s beautiful face as he gripped onto the sheets and his claws dug holes into them accidentally. “Fuck!” Phantom yelped as Dewdrop’s hand made harsh impact on his ass. “You like that? Hm?” Dewdrop asked, in a teasing voice as his hand wrapped around Phantoms neck, pulling his head upwards so his moans and cries could be heard louder.

“Yea that’s it, let them hear you. Let them hear you moan for me like the whore you are.” Dewdrop grunted as his thrusts grew more intense, his hand going to grip onto Phantom’s hair and tug on it, lifting his head even further up as he applies slight pressure to his neck, not enough to hurt him. But just enough to cause slight pressure to his throat. “Yea, take it, take it like the slut you are. Swiss was right about you and your pretty little hole.” Dew said as he landed yet another harsh slap to Phantoms ass, Phantom yelped in pleasure, he loved being degraded during intercourse. Except his loud moans and cries suddenly turned into silent grunts and small breathy moans as thoughts had started to swirl around in his mind.

“Did you hear him? They all talk about how much of a whore you are.”

“Disgusting. Letting anyone rail you like that?”

“Not even Swiss is that bad…yikes.”

“Your just a sex toy for them. A whore, slut.”

Phantoms thoughts got to him as his tears were no longer tears of pleasure, but tears of sadness and overwhelmed emotions. He wasn’t enjoying himself anymore like he was merely moments ago. His hard dick turned soft, rubbing against the mattress. He wanted to call the safeword, stop the scene and just take a breath, calm himself down and talk to Dew about toning down the degradation just a little bit. But he didn’t wanna upset Dew, didn’t wanna mess up what they had and make him hate him again. So he stayed silent, letting Dew enjoy himself. He laid there as his thoughts swirled, tears still streaming down his face before he felt Dewdrops thrusts slow down and come to a sudden and abrupt stop. He felt a rough hand softly caress the arch in his back, and a tap to his cheek. “Hey, hey bat. Are you okay?” He heard Dew ask, his ears flicking as he looked up. Phantom looked at Dew and noticed the genuine concern in his usually mad face.

“Phantom, do you need to stop? Did you forget the safeword?” Dewdrop asked, softly caressing the Quintessence Ghoul’s back.

“…purple” Phantom said softly, sniffling. Dew heard clearly and immediately pulled out of Phantom. “Bug, what happened did I hurt you?” He asked as he put his pants and boxers back on, his tail wrapping around his leg as he sat on the bed. Phantom shook his head. “N-no I just…my thoughts got to me when you were- degrading me and I just…I don’t know.” Phantom tried to explain, Dewdrop understanding. There were times even Dew felt the degradation was too much for him during sex. “Hey, no no it’s okay bug, I understand. There are times when Swiss degrades me and it gets too much.” He starts, before asking. “Do you want help putting your clothes back on bat?”. Phantom nodded his head softly before muttering a small “..please?” Dew nodded and grabbed Phantoms pants and boxers, softly putting them on him and sitting back down.

“Do you want cuddles?” He asked, looking down at the Quintessence Ghoul. Phantom could only muster up a quick nod, Dew immediately laid down and wrapped the slightly taller ghoul into his arms, radiating small heat waves as a comforting touch. “Can you promise me something bug?” He asked. Phantom let out a chirp in response. “I need you to call the safeword if anyone makes you uncomfortable or if anything gets too much during sex. No matter who it is okay?” Dew said as he played with Phantoms hair, phantoms tail wrapping around Dew’s thigh and tail. He nodded. “Okay…” he said sleepily.

“Tired Quint?” He asked. Phantom nodded in response. “It’s alright, go to sleep. We can talk about this more tomorrow, alright?” Dew said, Phantom once more, slightly nodding in response before his breathing relaxed. Indicating he’d fallen asleep. “Goodnight Bug..” Dew whispered, kissing his forehead before falling asleep himself.

[lilydaisylily]

I Love you (part 3)

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Y/N (reader)

Hi lovely readers! Here comes part 3 for this series and I really hope you'll enjoy it! If you have some spare time, would really appreciate it if you can hit like and repost this post so other reader can read it too! Love you lots!✨️

Do not copy. All right reserved.

Happy reading!✨️

🦋 🦋 🦋 🦋 🦋 🦋

Jessica fucking Thompson.

You knew that voice anywhere. The very voice that always there to take whatever it is that belongs to you, but always so fucking unlucky for every second of the time. Thank heavens for that.

"Y/N! What a coincident! What are you doing here?" Jessica ask you with a very annoying high pitch voice.

"Do I look like I'm here to cook, Jessica?" You swear she'll annoys you to death by just breathing.

"Aww, don't be like that! Looks like you hurt your hand with, let me think, umm like some kind of an acid accident? How unfortunate." A wicked glint flashes in Jessica's eyes as she eyeing your injury, gloating for your bad luck.

So she's the mastermind here. How predictable.

Sometimes you wonder how on earth does this stupid human being can live and kicking until today, unscattered and happy? Who in their right mind will casually admitting to their crime in broad daylight? You really don't know what kind of good deed she did in her past life to be blessed with this life that she have today.

On the other hand, being a sharp person that she is, Rebecca swiftly turn on her phone recording rightly after she noticed Jessica coming towards you a few second ago. She have this hunch that it will be worth it to record your conversation. Hence, the unofficial confession from the villain has been recorded successfully.

Taking your silent as a yes, Jessica continues to provoke your emotion, "Looks like I'm right, 'ey? Aww poor Y/N! Have you cried to Cheollie about this yet? Oh, wait! You guys are not together anymore, right? Oh my god, I am so sorry! Double boohoo for you, Y/N!"

Before you can even retort her, Jessica continue, "You know what Y/N, you better stop pestering Cheollie from now on because," she paused her word for a second as she look down on her stomach and caressing it gently before she carry on, "Well, because he's going to be the father to our child! I'm pregnant with Cheollie's child, Y/N! It's wonderful, isn't?" Armed with a lovely and gentle smile as her disguise, the bomb of a news that she throws at you makes your heart shattered completely, making you feel empty inside like a broken doll.

"What did you just say?" You can't help it but to question her again, as you're unwilling to believe the news you just heard.

"I'm pregnant with Cheollie's child, silly Y/N! Well, it's just been for like, 3 weeks old, but-" you cannot bring yourself to listen to the rest of her words as you cut her off with an emotionless 'congratulation' and make a bee-line towards your car outside the ER. Rebecca silently followed you out, not missing the evil, psycho grin from Jessica after you left.

"You've got the recording, right?" You asked Rebecca once you both boarding the car. "Yes, President. I'll settle this matter as soon as possible."

"Good. Make sure she reap a dozen of what she sow this time. I think I had enough of her antics in this life." You gave her your final sentence grudgingly while holding onto your injured hand.

*

"Boss, we found her. She just came out from AV Hospital after her appointment with an O&G specialist. We've looked into the system and found out that," a little hesitation coming from the other side of the line before gathering their courage to continue the report, "well, we discovered that Jessica is currently bearing a child, about 3 weeks old."

There you have it. The deathly report has been conveyed to the hell king and its only a matter of time for the hell to break loose.

"Find out who's the father is no matter the method and don't let this news spread, especially not to Y/N. If she come to realize this because of your incompetant, you know whats coming for you." Before Seungcheol got their acknowledgement on their new mission, his henchmen disclose the information he dreaded the most where you already knew the pregnancy news from none other than Jessica herself.

An eerie silence from Seungcheol's side makes them break into a very cold sweat.

All hell will break loose soon indeed.

*

"I can work anywhere I want, right? Right Becca?" Your ride from the hospital has been masked with a serene silence until you broke it by asking the question out of the blue.

"Of course, President. Wherever you are, I'll tag along and do my best to assist you." Determined to stay by your side, Rebecca will go anywhere with you as long as you bring her along. That's her promise when she started her service in your company.

"No, Becca. I need you to stay here, to keep all the staff in check for me. I won't be out for long, maybe a couple of months, or maybe a year, top." Smiling, you carry on with your words, "I think my heart needs some healing I never knew I needed, Becca. And its definitely not here." A stream of tears gushing out from your eyes as you can't seem to hold back your sadness any longer. Rebecca can't help it but to engulfed you into the tighest hug ever as a way to console you, even for a little while.

You asked the driver to drop you off at Mingyu's house and once again, you can't keep your tears in when he's already standing tall on his yard, barefoot and looking anxious while waiting for you. He streched his long legs towards your side and give you a big bear hug that you deserve. Rebecca bow respectfully to you both and quietly leave you with Mingyu as she knew you are in good hands.

After Mingyu heard the shocking revelation from you, he can't help but to narrated a long, colourful curses to both Seungcheol and Jessica for doing this to you.

"I swear I'll give them a piece of my mind when we meet up. Gosh, this is so frustrating! What's in his mind that he have the heart to treat you like this?!" Said Mingyu while angrily chopping poor potatoes and tomatoes to make you some of your favourite hot soup of his. His cooking has never ceased to amaze you and you love every single thing about it.

You both take your seat at the dining table once Mingyu finished his cooking. Gosh, his cooking definitely a precious gift from the heaven. "Gyu, may I ask you a favour?" You meekly asked Mingyu about the decision you've made this afternoon. Mingyu put down his spoon to give you his full attention and motioning you to continue.

"I want to go somewhere far away from here. A place where Seungcheol can't find me eventhough he might not and I know you're the only one who can outsmart him on this, well maybe Jeonghan too. Will you help me?" Taking your uninjured hand in his, he agreed readily to your request and he already got some place in mind that he'll share with you later. You thank him for always be there for you before you both heard the door bell ringing.

Bethany and Wonwoo both engulfed you in a tight group hug, well, with a carefully hugging session of course, to avoid any more injury there is.

"I wish I could just chop both of that bitch's hand! Why is she not changing at all? After all these years and she's still playing this snatching game? What a loser!" Bethany can't contain her anger as she stabbed the poor potato in her soup bowl.

"Actually, I just have this one speculation on my mind after the day we found out about your breakup with Seungcheol hyung." All eyes and ears are on Wonwoo and he continue his theory after he got the attention he need.

"I just don't understand why Seungcheol hyung suddenly acted this way. Like, we all knew him for a long time even before you two started dating, right? He's not someone whom will cheat on his partner no matter how short the relationship last between them. Look, I know people can change anytime but old habit die hard, right? So my conclusion here is, I think what is currently going on between the two of you and that bitch Jessica might not be 100% of Seungcheol hyung's fault. Something more might be behind it than the one that meets the eye."

Quietness engulfed everyone in the dining room with all eyes on Wonwoo, feeling both amazed and shocked. Hence, Bethany decided to fill it with her witty remark.

"Wow. I never knew you can speak that long, Wonu-ya. That's a very suprising fact about you that I've learn today. Maybe we can give you some more brain exercise for you to think rather than letting your brain to rot with all those games that you played."

Loud laughter erupted throughout the house and Wonwoo just smile shyly while eating his soup.

"Well, Wonu does have a point there. But no worries. I'll help you investigate this matter while you're resting, love. I might also deliver Seungcheol hyung a punch or two as an early payment." Another laughter erupted and it's caused by Mingyu this time.

After some movie marathon and a few bowl of popcorn, you all decided to retire for the night and retreat to Mingyu's guest room upstairs.

"Have you inform your parents about your upcoming departure?" Beth cuddles you on the bed.

"Not yet. Maybe tomorrow. I guess they'll be cool about it, right?" Your parents is not strict, but they do appreciate it if you and your brother update them about your life every now and then. They did sent their own men to guard you from afar but, hearing from you personally is much better.

"I'm so proud of you, Y/N. Seungcheol has been comfortable long enough that he forgot to cherish you the way you should be. For now, just focus on your own healing and let the past stays in the past. The truth will come out eventually and all we have to do now is to wait." Bethany stroke your hair gently and soon you both slowly drift into your own dreamland, feeling safe and sound in each others arm.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

That is all for part 3 of I Love You.

I don't know if you like them but feel free to your two cent in the comment so I can improve my future writing🫶

Thank you for reading, my lovelies and we'll see each other in the next chapter!^^

[chaotic-goodsir]

If you listen to any one song on here I highly recommend this one thanks:

Edited to add lyrics because I crave approval for my silly playlist...

*

1. You Flip Me Upside Down 

(Curt pov)

I hope that I, I don't ruin this 

Getting too fucked up to remember it

You flip me upside down

And take me out of my head

You flip me upside down

I'm kinda getting into it

2. Dressed to Kill 

(Curt pov)

I've got to get you out of my mind

And back into my arms

Closer than a close shave

I wanna be shaking in the shockwave

It's on tonight and I've only got one clear shot

A little courage for the road please

(Owen pov)

And I don't need philosophy this time

They're all just words that bounce around

Until our bodies hit the ground

I'm dressed to kill

And if I don't somebody else will

Like the glass that's glued to your hand

Baby I'm gonna be your man

3. Give Me a Try 

(Owen pov)

I know sometimes I lose the plot and I cause a scene

What do you dream of on the West Coast

When my head is aching in GMT?

And I don't care why this apartment's so ice cold

Let London try - it'll never swallow me whole

4. Jump Into The Fog 

(Owen pov)

What a great achievement it was

To find someone that shirks such little self restraint

I'm a non-believer but

I believe in these dirty little wicked games

Snakes and ladders are banned in here, love

The climb's too rough just to slide back down again

I'm only here because I wanna twist the structure of my average day

I've made some bad decisions, I'll admit that freely

It's just that life tastes sweeter when it's wrapped in debauchery

So drop your map, drop your plans

Drop your five-step program

Because there's not an ounce of faith in this leap

5. Flowerball

(Curt pov)

I'll take the punch if you'll sell the kick

It's been a while since we tripped the light fantastic

I wanna hear guitars and symbols sing

I'm tired of deciphering her senile fax machine

Don't you get bored of them giving you nothing?

I only press pause when you press play in my stomach

Like a funeral needs an audience

Like a skeptic needs a church

It's not fun unless it hurts

6. Tormentor

(Curt pov)

A heart as cold as Oslo in the show

Between the sheets she sucker punches me

A temperament only a mother could love

She put the snipers on the rooftops and in the streets

You don't play, play well with others

You're a tormentor

7. Last Night I Dreamt...

(Owen pov)

I'm a good friend and an excellent lover

I can fool myself just like no other person can

I'm turning into a twisted man

I haven't got time for any selfless deeds

What I do for you indirectly for me

I'm a stubborn boy

There's nothing here that you can break or destroy

Last night I dreamt I died alone

Through all my talk of self-defeat

A fearful bomb ticks underneath

8. Sex and Question Marks

(Curt pov)

With low hopes and little charm

We half a cigarette and overthink where it went so wrong

You were my swiss watch

We made our moves on cue

Oh what bliss it was to have something to lose

(Owen pov)

Life was euphoric when we didn't know much

Now I'm a ghost and you've lost your spark

What happened, oh what happened to us?

9. Kamikaze Lovers

(Owen pov)

Fear, fear and coconut water

Is and will always be my favourite blend of drink

So hurry up, happy hour must have it's end

Just as our darkest hours must have it's their time to shrink

Twist your knife deep into me

We're different creatures with similar needs

It was pleasure to have met you

I know my family would approve

But if we can't be kamikaze lovers

Then I can never be, I can never be your friend

Your inseparable friend

And anyway why would I shake your hand

When I can shake your bed?

10. Be Your Shadow

(Curt pov)

Tonight we'll both go MIA

In different towns but I'm similar ways

I've tried my best, best to forget

But I can't, I can't, I can't

Tonight we'll scratch each other's face

If it's in the moment no one complains

I've tried my best to move along

But I can't, I can't, I can't

Those machine-gun eyes fire crystals into me

You're such a violent high

And I'm such a loose cannon, can't you see?

11. Firing Squad (Come on I'm English I'll Even Queue and Wait My Turn)

(Owen pov)

You pulled the ace out of the pack

Describing me as a charmless nowhere man

I wasn't stationed here to take flak

Or to be your sycophantic fan

Your eyebrows raise, were you expecting a white flag?

Is it still giving up if you want the trigger pulled back?

No thanks for the birthday cake

And the upright cigarettes that acted as the flame

Why would I watch the filters burn?

When you could take your aim and I could watch those barrels burst?

Come on, I'm English, I'll even queue and wait my turn

Too little too late

Too big a mistake

You're a firing squad, you're a firing squad

Now blow me away

12. Unexploded Bomb

(Owen POV)

Just grant me one last request

And take me out for a drive

And I'll store my eternal unrest

Between my shirts and ties

I wanna go where the action is

Cause I've seen the places to hide

Stamp that pedal to the floor now, love

We're running out of time

(Curt POV)

Just grant me one last request

And remove the disguise

I'd love in a little black dress if I had those thighs

I wanna go where the action is

Where lightning strikes twice

So throw your makeup out the window, love

We're running out of time

[starshipsofstarlord]

Marks of Love | Alex Summers

Summary; the morning after in Alex is peaceful, that is until you leave his room. Then, it’s pretty obvious what the pair of you had been up to.

Warnings; smut, hickeys, swearing, cheesy Alex, mention of virginity loss, swearing, Kurt being an innocent boi

Alex groaned as he forced himself up and out of the bed, he scratched his blonde head, groaning lightly as sun broke through his curtains. “Shit.” He spoke to himself, looking at the time.

He was late. And so were you, considering the fact that you were still in his room, and naked underneath his sheets.

It was against the rules in the X Mansion, for girls and boys to be in one another’s rooms. There was so much freedom in Charles’ open home, everyone was allowed to be their true self.

However, you were all still kids and teenagers. It was something Charles had put in place, but it made Alex feel better, knowing that many others did not abide by it all the time either.

“Last night was amazing.” You stretched your arms out, your voice inclined Alex to look over at you, and clamber back onto his mattress.

“It was.” He spoke, getting pulled back into the amorous serenity, and leaning down to intertwine your lips. “I’m so happy we bit the bullet.” He bit his own lip, his blue eyes gazing into your y/e/c eyes.

“Must have felt good then.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, laughing as he nodded, blushing from the mention of your involvement.

“People say first times are clumsy and messy, but ours... it was perfect.” He smiled, his worry for his lateness to class disappearing.

“Yeah, it certainly was.” He kissed your neck, sucking on the skin and stroking his tongue against it. “Al.”

“I love you.” He mumbled against your flesh, situating himself to lie atop of you, dressed in nothing more than his boxer shorts. As his lips began to move more vigorously, so did his hips, tutting against you with the layering of his duvet between.

“I love you more.” You lulled your head back into the cushion, which smelled just like him, and as he pulled the covers back, leaving you exposed, he removed his boxers, so that he too was dressed in nothing but his own skin.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He mumbled, groaning as there was a harsh knock at the door. “Give me a minute.” As he stood, he pulled on his underwear, wearing just that as he went to the door and opened it just enough so that he could peek outside.

“Dude, why aren’t you in class? We had a test.” Sean reprimanded him, and Havok could only roll his sapphire eyes.

“A test is the last thing that I care about.” And it was currently, he had just gotten laid, but he would not tell his best friend. Sean already figured that Alex and you had already done the deed, from the PDA, it was what a lot of people took from the public interaction.

“Okay.” He shrugged, causing Sean’s gaze to travel down, and he felt a feeling swell in his stomach. Banshee couldn’t hold it for long, he burst out laughing, earning a frown from his friend.

“Nice neck.” The redhead pointed out the dark blotches scattered against Alex’s neck, he no doubted that yours was the same. Alex huffed, his attitude showing well as he clenched his jaw, and rested his arm firmly against the door. “If Scott knew the things that you were doing...”

“I’m not taking a bribe to keep your mouth shut, if my brother’s told, he’s told, simple as.” With that, he shut the door in Sean’s face, rubbing over his own with his palms as he began to return to you.

“Fuck, I studied hours for that test.” You whined, covering your head with a pillow, of which Alex was fast to remove. “I was gonna get all the answers right as well, Jubilee dragged me to the library and we went ham for hours.”

“Talking about going ham for hours.” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing you to snort at his efforts. But nevertheless, you allowed him to continue his intentions, breathing in the smell of sex that had glued to his skin as he leaned over, reaching for one of the drawers of his bedside table, and rifling blindlessly through for a condom.

He plucked it up with his fingers once he had located it, sitting back on his knees as he toyed with the packaging. For the bad boy of the school, your boyfriend sure did know how to be adorable. Instead of wearing his usual smirk, his eyes were squinted, as he tried to open the package.

“Give it here.” You extended your hand, opening the wrapper almost instantly after you had received the foil dressed protection. Alex took it back, holding onto his base as he rolled the condom onto his cock.

The sight of him handling himself had you biting your lip, a hunger growing in your chest. You leant back, waiting for him to clamber over top of you, which he did, as he began to position his tip at your entrance.

“You good?” He asked, placing one of his arms beside your head, enclosing you between him and the luxurious mattress. To answer his question, you jutted your hips towards him, gripping his shoulders, and so, he began to push into you.

Alex remained slow in his pace, stopping for a moment so that you could adjust to his size, only beginning to thrust when he knew that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Oh my.” It felt better than last time, perhaps it was because you had grown and stretched to accommodate him once before. But nevertheless, as your eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure, Alex quickened his administration, cussing himself because of the pleasure.

The two of you had done things before last night, but it was different going all the way. There was something so sensual about having him inside of you, it was as though it connected your souls, or perhaps it just felt that way because of the hormones.

You moved your legs, lodging them either side of your boyfriend’s hips, pulling him closer and deeper. It reviled a groan from his throat, increasing the pleasure for both him and yourself. “Fuck.” He hissed, feeling himself begin to get close, and so he snuck his hand down and past your abdomen, and rubbed your clit.

“I’m cumming.” You informed him in your state of bliss. He too felt near to bursting, he doubted that he could ever feel better, but he could definitely feel predominantly worse.

“Nice neck.” Peter spoke to you, and it only drew the attention of your friends as well. Jean stifled her laughter as she heard your thoughts on how you could kill that fast running bastard, but Kurt was confused.

“Vhat iz it?” He asked curiously, tilting his head as he tried to study the strange marks. They were nothing like the religious symbols that he had crafted into his skin, there was no definition to the. They looked like bruises, and as Alex and Sean walked over, Banshee advocated himself to answer.

“They’re marks of love.” Alex kicked him, causing him to trip. Scott shook his head at his older brother’s behaviour, not surprised even a little by it.

“Just shut up.” Alex sighed, sitting on the grass beside you, and wrapping his arm around you.

“You also have them.” Kurt realised, looking at Storm for answers. Surely she would know, or at least tell him, no one was being specific enough.

“They’re called hickeys.” She sighed. “And it’s what two people give each other when they really really like each other.”

“And I’m going to guess that is why neither of you were in class this morning.” Scott spoke, his expression half unreadable due to the ruby quartz glasses, however, the image of him pretending to puke was far too visible.

“You are correct.” 

“Stay out of my head Jean.” You shook your head at her impulse to do so, it couldn’t be helped, you knew that, but sometimes, you liked some privacy.

“Well... Charles is gonna have a field day giving the pair of you the talk.” Peter said, and it was clear that he had endured that experience far too many times.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Ok so, idk if i asked this before or I'm just thinking i did but didn't send?

But like from your au, I'm genuinely curious, and idk if you alreday did answer it before, but like how would mike have reacted with finding out about not only ness being his kid (again u think that was answered before but again i don't really remember 😅) but also being controlled by his dad to do his dirty deeds?

I can imagine it either being in a hurt comfort way of angsty way with this

i definitely did get this ask before, i am just Really Bad at answering things sometimes 😅 sometimes i forget about the stuff in my inbox or don’t know how to answer

but! this!!!

i have headcanons that already explain his reaction to realizing that Vanessa is his kid, but he realizes due to this instinct inside of him. he has no initial proof, but when he sees her for the first time, he just knows she’s his kid. plus, a quick scan tells him that all her health information—blood type and whatnot—matches up with his daughter’s.

he keeps it a secret for awhile. he knows what happened the last time his family interacted with animatronics, and he doesn’t want her to end up like that. he’s so scared of accidentally hurting her. so, he avoids Vanessa. he gets the others to avoid her, too. he’s going to extreme measures to make sure she isn’t harmed by one of them.

meanwhile, Vanessa just thinks the animatronics fucking hate her, which doesn’t bode well for her already-fractured mental health. every time she tries to talk to them, they stop what they’re doing, stare at her for a moment, and then walk away. sometimes they walk away without even looking at her. it’s like she’s not even there.

this goes on for about two weeks, and then something changes. Vanessa is brooding about how not even robots like her and ends up in the Daycare. somehow, the lights get turned off and she meets Moon for the first time.

and Moon scared the ever-loving shit out of Vanessa.

her resulting scream is heard all throughout the Pizzaplex. without even really realizing it, Freddy is running in that direction. Monty and Roxy try to stop him, reminding him about what he said, and he just goes, “i don’t care, i need to HELP HER!”

needless to say, he nearly mauls Moon. who knew Freddy was capable of roaring like an actual bear? Vanessa. Vanessa knows now.

sometime after that, Freddy finally spills his knowledge to Vanessa, who initially laughs and doesn’t believe him At All. but with a bit of prompting, she finds her birth mother, asks her some questions, realizes her dad is a bear, and then throws up.

in response to the second question: Mike feels awful when he finds out. he doesn’t have a stomach when he’s in Freddy, and yet it feels like he’s been stabbed directly in the gut. and it’s his child that holds the knife.

but, like some depictions of Mike towards Vanessa, he doesn’t see her any less than he already did. he understands that she’s being controlled and isn’t doing anything willingly. he’s not mad at her, he’s mad at his father.

Glitchtrap is aware of this fact and he exploits it So Much. he loves to take control of Vanessa and taunt Mike in her voice. he loves that he can do whatever he wants and Mike can’t do anything about it because lashing out would mean hurting Vanessa and you wouldn’t want to hurt your precious baby, would you?

it’s all around a bad time. Mike is caught between a rock and a hard place, while Vanessa is trapped in her grandfather’s hands with no easy way out.

also…i love making Glitchtrap absolutely fucking weird with Vanessa. and by weird i mean that he has groomer tendencies. it’s a super dark headcanon that i’ve mostly kept to myself in fear of how the fandom will react, but i do wanna write stuff with it. just because it’s So Fucked and the angst possibilities are Endless.

[jungcity]

STRIPPED. | jaehyun

tw: languages, jealousy, unprotected sex, degradation(?), dom!jaehyun, edging, oral sex (m), cum-eating, creampie, overstim

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 2657

note: crossed-posted this on my haikyuu blog as an ushijima fic. i hope you enjoy this in the jaehyun-narrative, though.

Having Jaehyun alone, inside an elevator, would’ve been exciting if not for your current situation. He stood beside you, prim and proper as always. His pristine tuxedo unruffled despite the whole day of attending meetings, signing papers, and talking to his business partners.

This was suffocating. You needed to at least say something before the atmosphere would rip your to shreds. Trying to shake the crippling aura away, you cleared your throat and opened your mouth to speak.

But before you could do exactly that, Jaehyun spoke. “Shut it, Y/N.” Further proving his indifference, he remained staring at his reflection inside the elevator.

You bit your lower lip to suppress a retort. Talking back would only add to your agony. Besides, you could feel Jaehyun’s mood in the air. It would be a bad move to taunt him.

However, you definitely weren’t the one to back down either. So you tilted your head up, straightened your back, and said, “Well, look at you now, attempting to conquer yourself yet again.”

Jaehyun’s delicious and virile chuckle echoed suddenly. The kind of laugh that has never failed to stir your stomach with its sound. You would’ve swoon if not for the edge that had come with it.

“Ah,” he moaned. “Your guts really does turns me on, Y/N,” he added, shaking his head lightly. “Let’s see how far that attitude could go, though.” After he spoke the words, the elevator door tinged.

Jaehyun adjusted his necktie before stepping out. He didn’t need to see if you’d follow him. It was just an instinct, an assurance.

His words might’ve shaken your knees lightly, but you won’t crumble because of him. Jaehyun always liked the fight, though. And you did, too. It was the dynamic of your relationship: the audacity of each other.

Doing your best to look confident, you puffed your chest and walked behind him. Heels clicking against the tiled floor.

When his penthouse door opened, that was when he finally looked at you. He looked like the devil himself, trying to lure you into hell. And because not even the devil could scare you away, you stepped inside.

Jaehyun walked straight to his bar counter and poured himself some hard liquor. While you unbutton your blazer and throw it onto the sofa. You could feel his eyes piercing your body with every move, therefore feeding the audacity you have.

“Tell me why, Y/N,” he finally spoke.

You chuckled, irating him even more. “What are you talking about?”

The sound of liquor pouring in the glass echoed through the silence. “Tell me why you kissed him.”

All the blood drained from your face. His voice was raw, his emotions rolling off his tongue. A mixture of curiosity, hurt, and punishment. “I... I don’t know.”

Jaehyun hummed. “Now, now, you don’t need to be discreet,” he said with his taunting yet luscious tone. “It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna hear us.”

You hated to admit it, but you knew exactly that no matter how brave you made yourself to be in front of him, you’d always falter once he’d used that voice to you. “I really don’t know, Jeong,” you breathed.

Jaehyun downed the contents of his glass. He laid the glass flat on the counter. Then he started to unbuckle his necktie while looking at you. “Alright, then. Take your clothes off. Leave the heels on.”

Without thinking twice, you unbutton your shirt. You needed to make him feel good. Anything. Just to say how sorry you were for this night.

The cool air grazes your breasts as you unhooked your bra. You removed your skirt next, exposing your sex for Jaehyun to see.

When you were finally naked, Jaehyun walked towards you. His proximity made you want him all over your body. You needed him to touch you. So bad that you tried to close the gap between the both of you, but Jaehyun lifted a hand to cup your chin harshly.

You gasped. He smiled. “Tell me why.”

“It... it was a mistake.”

His thumb grazed your lips. By the friction, your body screamed. Driving the pulsating of your sex mad. “Was it a mistake if you’re halfway through each other’s throats when I saw you, Y/N?”

“Jae—”

“He’s had his lips on you. Did it feel good?”

You tried to shake your head, but his grip was firm. “No, of course not.”

“Did you think of him fucking you?”

“Jae!” you cried in both astonishment and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

He seemed unfazed by your emotions. Jaehyun inserted his thumb inside your mouth. You knew what to do. You sucked his thumb like you were sucking his cock.

“Would you suck his cock like that?”

You abruptly stopped, surprised by the question. He knew what the answer was. And yet...

You swallowed. “No, Jae.”

A smirk ghosted his lips. “Whose cock you’d want to fuck you? Whose cock you’d want to suck off?”

“Yours!” you replied almost immediately. The immense need to have his hands around your body was so intense you felt like crying. It didn’t help that your sex was aching for attention and seemed like he won’t succumb to it.

Jaehyun placed his hand on the top of your head. “Prove it, then.”

Greedily, you unbuckled his belt, refusing to look away. Both of you held each other’s eyes while you tugged his undergarments down to reveal his beautiful cock.

Jaehyun sank to the couch, eyes never leaving yours. You went on your knees, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. Then it was on your mouth. You moaned, tasting his warmth and the little saltiness of his skin. Jaehyun watched you as you licked the bottom of his cock to the tip. But there was no emotions on his face. Your heart dropped. He was usually the silent kind of guy, but whenever you were behind closed doors, Jaehyun never stopped himself from eliciting sounds.

You sucked his cock again, and reached for his groins. Jaehyun made a sound through his teeth. He was unmistakably holding himself back.

Moans of apology vibrated on your mouth as you deepthroated him yet again. Then you fisted half of his cock, milking him while licking the tip. His thighs jerked in the slightest, then his ragged breaths could be heard inside the penthouse. By the sounds, you double-fisted him while sucking half his cock. You did just like that until a thick spurt of semen exploded in your mouth.

You moaned once more, trying your hardest to swallow the semen that was starting to pool inside your mouth. Jaehyun kept cumming, thus spilling some of his warm liquid down the length of his cock.

Ignoring the spilled semen, you started to bob your head up and down again. But his firm hands held your shoulders. You looked up to meet his eyes. Jaehyun stared at you, his face aloof.

“Are you wet?” he asked, voice cool and dangerous.

“I am,” you admitted.

“Sucking my cock really turns you on.” He leaned back down the sofa. His cock still hard, veins bulging. “Slide that little cunt around me.”

Your nipples perked by the crudeness. And you were quick to straddle his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. Lining your entrance to his pretty, and achingly thick cock, you sank down. But Jaehyun held your waists all of a sudden. You looked at him, frowning.

“Why, Y/N?”

Feeling as if you were going to snap anytime soon, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t think this cock is for you,” he replied, detachment clear in his voice.

You bit back a sob. Fuck him. But you couldn’t just let go. Your body has been screaming for him to fill you, to fuck you, to stretch you. “Jaehyun, please.”

Half of his face was obscured from light, while the half was lit by the single light from the hallway. Jaehyun’s eyes glinted darkness, then his sturdy grip on your waists loosened. “Ride this cock, nice and slow,” he whispered, the air from his mouth leaving goosebumps on your bare collarbone down your spine.

You sank your sex deep down his cock. The impact made you grip the headrest of the sofa. Jaehyun breathed through his teeth. He felt it too. The way his cock stretched your insides deliciously. The way you exactly fit each other.

He was stoic, despite the sweat coating his forehead. Instead of feeling dejected, you pulled yourself up and forcefully sank down. Buttocks hitting his lap.

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun cursed, “Goddamn.”

You moaned by the friction of your wet sex sliding up and down his thick cock. Jaehyun tried to meet your every move by moving his hips, therefore hitting the soft spot inside you. It was painful to bob your body up and down, but you won’t stop l. Not until his façade crumbles down and he’s wanting every inch of you.

You won’t stop riding his cock until Jaehyun is a mess underneath you. He deserved it, nevertheless. Let your body say the apologies of your mistakes tonight.

His hands were comfortably holding your waists, allowing you to do the deed of fucking your brains out together. Jaehyun licked his lips. “Tell me why you kissed him.”

You bit your lower lip out of frustration. He won’t let it slide, would he? Having no idea how you could feel different emotions all at the same time, you tried to ignore his question. But Jaehyun held you in a viselike grip again, halting your movements unexpectedly, painfully.

With your brows furrowed, you tried to move again, just to feel him. However, he brought your hands behind you, held them firmly with his large ones. His cock was buried inside you, reaching for places you didn’t know was possible to reach. Hell, at this point, his cock would surely penetrate your intestines.

“Why?” His voice was raspy and menacing. He was using this against you.

Out of your exasperation, you cried, “I don’t know! I swear!” It was a drunken mistake, commixed with Jaehyun’s ex arriving at town. It didn’t help that they were unfortunately business partners. All week he’s with her. You were a woman, jealousy was something you didn’t know existed until Jaehyun came into your life.

Jaehyun chuckled once more, the sound were dark and brooding. “Are you thinking of him fucking you right now?”

“No! Of course not!” How could he ask that? Tears brimmed in the back of your eyes. This is getting tiring. You wriggled your body but Jaehyun buried himself deeper, eliciting a gasp from your lips. The friction of your sex to his cock was both pleasureable and painful. He was stretching you, balls deep. “Jaehyun, please!”

Bodies slicked and coated in perspiration, Jaehyun leaned back, freeing you. You collapsed on the crook of his neck, feeling as if all your energy has been sucked out of you.

“You wanna stop? You know what to say,” he taunted.

God, you wish you knew how to. However, you knew you couldn’t. No matter how filthy his mouth could get, you won’t taste defeat. So you pulled yourself up. He won’t hear the safe word tonight.

“Damn you,” you exhaled.

With one swift movement, Jaehyun was out of you. Then he supported your body as he bent you over the sofa, your breasts making friction against the head rest.

“Jae— ah!” You moaned as he slammed his cock back inside your wet sex. Gripping the headrest tightly, your body jerked forwards and backwards as Jaehyun slammed and thrusted into you in a pace that made you scream and moan his name.

“No one,” he panted. “No one’s gonna fuck you like this, Y/N.” You felt his body leaning closer. He was hugging your back while fucking you from behind.

Your sweat trickled down the leather sofa. Perhaps your saliva, too. The reality of your lover fucking your brains out, inside his penthouse, with the tall skyscrapers as the witness further ignited your lewdness. You moved to meet his thrust, but Jaehyun reached for your clit, rubbing harshly.

Biting back a cry, you focused on the feeling. The heat on your toes was unbearable. You could feel your release building up. Your moans get louder and louder as your abdomen tightens, your stomach caving in, ribs protruding. Then Jaehyun cut out the friction.

“Fuck!” you cried out. You were so close, so damn close. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” you chanted as he fucked you from behind. Jaehyun chuckled, clearly amused by the way you were so helpless. At this point, he would give you a cataclysmic vaginal orgasm if he won’t stop fucking you like that.

“Tell me why you kissed him,” he repeated with his brooding voice yet again.

You cried, literal tears streaming down your face, mixing with your sweat. “Because you are an asshole! And you deserved—”

Jaehyun thrusted forcefully, his skin slapping against yours, stroking your cunt with his hard cock. “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N,” he gasped. “Why.”

Over and over, he spread you out and fucked you relentlessly. Your sex felt so full it was overwhelming. Jaehyun reached for your hands and secured them behind you. You screamed in frustration and pleasure. One touch on your clit and you would explode right there and there.

He reached for your nipple and flicked it with his forefinger and thumb, giving you shudders. You have nothing left to fight with. You were all his. Mind, body, and soul.

You were still panting when he leaned closer. Then his left hand found your clit again. You readied yourself for the intense orgasm. Praying that you won’t lose your mind.

Jaehyun pulled your hair lightly, bending you at his will. He licked your shoulder all the way up your jaw.

“Jae—” You didn’t finish your sentence when a loud cry resonated in you. He pinched the lips of your sex towards your clit. You screamed his name as the release finally exploded through you. The orgasm was so, sooo good, tears started to stream down your face again. You tried to grab him for support, anything, just to keep your body from limping. Your cunt was still pulsating when Jaehyun stilled and fresh, warm, semen burst inside you like a separate thrust. He spilled himself inside you, filling you in, occupying every space.

After his cock was finished pulsating, he pulled out. He’d never let go of your body as he turned you to face him. Your face collided with his chests, exhaustion pulling you down.

“I am yours,” he stated with his eyes finally softening. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever done something to hurt you.” Then he placed a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

You nodded slightly, eyelids drooping down. “I’m sorry, Jae. I never really meant to hurt you.”

“Hush, angel, I know,” he whispered before kissing your lips fully. After he pulled away, Jaehyun carried you to the bed in a bridal style.

“Let’s wash you first, alright?” he said. You moaned in response. Then he chuckled. There was no danger in his tone now, only amusement meant for you.

Jaehyun laid you down in the tub. He filled it in. Then he started to lather your hair with shampoo. Because of his large hands, Jaehyun’s massages are the best. You hummed as he rinsed off your hair.

After bathing you, he washed off the perspiration from his body, too. Then he carried you again to the bed after drying both your bodies.

Naked, you both laid down on the bed. Jaehyun tucked you in, spooning you. Then he gave your shoulder one last kiss, before you finally drifted into oblivion.

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

Still loving Komahina and I also love hurt/comfort sickfics so this was pretty inevitable. Nagito is very good for sickfics. Anyway, I wanted to show these two trying to navigate a bad illness and all the frightening and sometimes embarrassing things that come with that. Post-hope arc again. With fluff because I can’t NOT do fluff. I hope you enjoy it - Circle

Also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34280557

Warning: descriptions of vomiting (I didn’t describe the puke itself or anything, don’t worry, I’m emetophobic myself) and high fevers/vague descriptions of medical procedures.

Hajime noticed at the beach this time - and just like every time, he kicked himself for not noticing before he’d made Nagito leave the cabin. He thought back to when Nagito stumbled as they walked across the island, about how he’d chased every meagre bite of breakfast with a gulp of water like it was difficult to get down. Hajime hadn’t been vigilant enough, and now they were sitting together on the sand and Nagito was leaning far too heavily against his shoulder.

“Nagito?” Hajime said cautiously. When Nagito turned his head, Hajime hastily put a hand to his forehead, managing to catch it before Nagito veered away. “I knew it. You’re burning up.”

Some old routine. Nagito would deflect, then grow self-deprecating; Hajime would shut that down, then begrudgingly carry Nagito back to their cabin. They’d done this dance together over and over, whenever Nagito’s weakened state and illness made something like a common cold seem as serious as smallpox.

It didn’t seem so bad for the next couple of days. Nagito had a fever, but it was a low one, and he ate when Hajime asked and seemed alert and talkative. Hajime felt comfortable leaving him in the care of their friends while he went to Mikan for medicine and advice - though his friends proved to need supervision of their own. He returned to his cabin just as Sonia and Gundham were leaving, reassured when Sonia reported that Nagito wasn’t any worse. At the time, he didn’t notice the splashes of brown paint on Gundham’s bandages or Sonia’s dress.

Hajime stopped short when he stepped over the threshold. There was a gigantic swirly witchy symbol covering almost the whole wall above the bed, the heavy smell of paint in the air. Nagito was peeping over the top of the bedsheets, eyes sparkling.

“What the hell is that?” Hajime couldn’t even sound angry. He was just bloody tired. Why were the Ultimates so dramatic?

“Sonia and Gundham did a ritual for my good health,” Nagito explained. His lip twitched and Hajime knew he was fighting a smile. “I was so honoured to have two Ultimates working to help me that I thought it’d be unspeakably ungrateful to protest.”

“Oh, shut up, Nagito! I can see you just think it’s funny,” Hajime snapped. Nagito snorted and disappeared under the sheets, spluttering.

Hajime sighed and took another look at the giant eyesore on his wall. At least it was painted fairly neatly - and he knew Gundham and Sonia’s hearts were in the right places even if this particular stunt was irritating. He supposed they were trying to help in a weird way. Sonia went along with anything Gundham said, and Hajime didn’t expect Gundham to know you shouldn’t paint giant symbols on other people’s walls without permission. Gundham navigated social interactions like he was going into battle; Hajime doubted he would ask permission for something he clearly saw as a good deed.

“Doesn’t it make your boring plain wall more interesting?” Nagito piped up.

“Don’t push your luck, Nagito.”

“Right. Who knows what pushing my luck will do.”

Later on, Hajime would worry that he’d jinxed them somehow, that whatever strange force was behind Nagito’s Ultimate Luck was malevolent and wanted to teach them a lesson for mocking it - because that night brought disaster. Nagito was usually exceptionally clingy when they were in bed, often to the point where Hajime got so warm he had to pry him off, but now he curled up right on the very edge of the mattress, well away from Hajime. Hajime knew he was awake from his strangely measured breaths and his unusual stillness; Nagito was a restless sleeper. He frequently kicked Hajime in the night and rolled right on top of him and yanked the blankets away. Sometimes Hajime felt like he’d get more sleep on a busy runway as airplanes roared overhead.

Hajime poked Nagito in the back, careful not to tip him right off the bed. “Hey. What’s up?”

He didn’t get a response. Hajime sighed. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know you’re not asleep. You never sleep like that. So what’s going on?”

He wound his arms around Nagito’s waist and tried to pull him closer to get a better look at him, but Nagito winced and slapped his hands away with surprising force. “Don’t,” he gasped, curling up even tighter. “Don’t press…”

“What? Is it your stomach?” This was new. Nagito had been off his food lately, but then he frequently found it difficult to eat. “Do you feel nauseous?”

Silence. Getting information from Nagito was like getting blood from a stone sometimes. Hajime felt Nagito’s forehead in the gloom. His fever had definitely gone up and his skin was clammy. Hajime let his fingers trail down Nagito’s cheeks to his jawline and felt along his neck - the lymph nodes were so swollen they felt like two throbbing ping pong balls.

“Fuck,” Hajime muttered. “I thought we might get through this one without anything too bad.”

He was expecting some strange rambling about how this bad luck would inspire them to hope for good things in the future, but Nagito still didn’t speak. He rolled over and shuffled across the bed, tucking his burning head right under Hajime’s chin. It worried Hajime more than any words could; Nagito didn’t actively seek out comfort unless he was feeling really terrible.

“Hey,” Hajime mumbled, having to spit out a mouthful of Nagito’s unruly curls. “Ugh, your hair keeps getting in my mouth. Look, I know you’re sick and I’m sure it must feel crappy, but you’ll be okay. You’ll probably feel better by tomorrow morning. Right?” Hajime knew he sounded like he was trying to convince himself as well as Nagito.

More silence. Hajime could feel Nagito shivering, and wound his arms around him quickly. He usually teased Nagito for being so chilly all the time, needing his jacket whenever the sun dipped behind the clouds and getting goose pimples in the air conditioned cabins, but it didn’t seem remotely funny anymore. Nagito trembled like he was buried up to his neck in snow, but he certainly didn’t feel cold.

“You’re burning up. Fuck, I think I need to get Mikan,” Hajime said. He felt a hand shoot out and grab hold of his t-shirt, clinging for dear life. Hajime knew he could easily pry Nagito off, but he couldn’t bring himself to try at a time like this. “Okay, don’t freak out. I’ll stay. But I’m going if you get any worse.”

It was after midnight when the vomiting started. They’d already been in the bathroom since eleven, huddled together on the floor by the toilet, sharing a blanket. Nagito kept sleepily begging Hajime to go back to bed and leave him there, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t be here with me if our roles were reversed.”

“That’s different. You’re you and I’m me,” Nagito whispered. He let his burning head rest against Hajime’s shoulder despite his pleading.

“It shouldn’t be different though. It’s not different, not to me. You’re sick and I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway if I knew you were in here on your own feeling miserable.”

“You have such a kind heart, Hajime. To think you could care so much about someone as worthless as I am.”

“Nagito. If you don’t stop that I’m going to shove your head down the toilet and flush, no matter how sick you are,” Hajime threatened. “You’re not worthless. For the millionth time.”

“You’d think you’d have got tired of saying that by now,” Nagito said.

“I have. Very fucking tired. But I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Now shut up and try to get some rest. And let me know when you need to throw up. You’re in a position right now that would have you puking down my front and it’s making me nervous.”

Thankfully, Nagito was exceptionally neat about it when he did have to lean over the toilet to vomit. Hajime hooked his white curls back behind his ears and tried not to groan too much. It was unpleasant, obviously, but it was clear Nagito was the one suffering the most right now. He didn’t need Hajime moaning in his ear for him to hurry up - and as the minutes ticked by Hajime found his embarrassment and mild disgust morphing into anxiety. He knew Nagito hadn’t had much to eat these past few days, but the retching and heaving went on well after Nagito had nothing left to bring up. Nagito’s cheeks grew flushed and blotchy, and it wasn’t long before Hajime was the only thing holding him up over the loo, his arms wound around Nagito’s chest. He could feel Nagito’s heart pounding hard against his arms, on and on.

“Come on,” Hajime said eventually. “I’ll get you a bucket or something. You’re not really throwing anything up now anyway. You need to lie down.”

Nagito didn’t respond. He was breathing heavily, his face dripping with sweat. He was gripping the porcelain so hard his knuckles bleached white. Hajime had to pry off his fingers one by one.

“Come on,” he repeated. “I’ll get you something to wipe your face. I know you feel miserable but you can’t stay tethered to the toilet until you die.” He scooped Nagito up into his arms, cradling him as carefully as a newborn. Nagito felt frighteningly hot and damp.

Shaky arms wound around Hajime’s neck and a weak, hoarse voice whispered into his ear. “Death would be welcome at this point…”

“Stop it,” Hajime said firmly. “Don’t go all melodramatic on me. You sound like Gundham.” He carried Nagito to the bed and ran a cloth under the tap. “Here. Shall I do it for you? Then you don’t have to sit up.”

Nagito didn’t react, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed to decide to ignore Hajime at will, and it annoyed him almost as much as Nagito’s self-deprecation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” Hajime snapped. “I’ll scrub your face like a baby if you’re going to act like one.” Despite his tone, Hajime ran the damp cloth over Nagito’s skin with unbelievable care and tenderness, going carefully around his eyes and mouth.

Nagito’s eyes flickered over to him. “Well, Nurse Hinata, what’s your diagnosis? Is it curtains for me now? Is this world finally finished with me?”

“No! God, I’ve never known anybody so dramatic,” Hajime said angrily. “It’s just a little stomach flu or something like that. Don’t be so stupid.” He was almost shouting now. It was far easier to get angry than to admit to Nagito that he was scared too, that the knot of panic in his chest was getting tighter by the minute.

Nagito stared at him pityingly. Hajime wanted to slap him and clasp him close all at once.

“I’m going to get Mikan.” He turned to leave, but felt a clammy hand grasp his wrist and hold it with a surprisingly firm, desperate strength. Hajime turned back. “Nagito..?”

Nagito had his head bent, his lips pressed together. He didn’t speak, but he clung to Hajime’s wrist so tightly his fingernails dug in.

“But we need help. I’ll be as fast as I can, I promise. I’ll run all the way,” Hajime tried.

The hand squeezed even tighter.

“Oh fucking hell,” Hajime groaned. “Okay, I won’t leave. But we still need help, so you need to let me go for a second, okay? I promise I won’t go past the door to the cabin.”

A pause. Then Nagito slowly unclamped his fingers and let Hajime break free. He immediately flew to the cabin door, opened it wide and took a deep, long breath inwards. “HEY!” he bellowed, as loud as he could possibly manage. His voice boomed through the still night air. “WE NEED HELP! COME OUT AND HELP US!”

He yelled the same simple lines over and over until a door opened. He’d rather hoped for somebody sensible like Twogami or Mahiru; he ended up with Kazuichi. It made sense really - the sensible people would be asleep at three in the morning, and Kazuichi’s cabin was directly across from Hajime’s.

“What the hell are you screaming about, Hajime?” Kazuichi whined, scrubbing his eyes. His hands were covered with oil and he smeared it across his cheeks. It looked like he was wearing bad war paint. He’d doubtless been hunched over some project he was working on. It usually annoyed Hajime to see his friend neglecting vital things like sleep for his machines, but he was grateful for Souda’s insomnia tonight.

“Kazuichi, come over here, I need your help. Nagito is sick. Like, really sick. I need you to go get Mikan. Please.”

“What? Why can’t you do it?” Kazuichi said indignantly.

“I just… I don’t want to leave him alone, okay?!” Hajime muttered, flustered.

“Awww, Hajime! You loooove him,” Kazuichi cried, spluttering with laughter.

Hajime heard Nagito snort behind him too. He must’ve heard. He felt his cheeks flush crimson. “Kazuichi, will you just fucking go before I throttle you!”

“Stop yelling at me, I’m doing you a favour!” Kazuichi cried, looking wounded - but he ran off in the direction of Mikan’s cabin obediently.

None of them slept much that night. Mikan worked diligently, trying antibiotics and saline drips and ice packs, but she couldn’t get Nagito’s fever down, getting more and more tearfully apologetic as if she was personally blighting him herself. “His fever is dangerously high. We have to find a way of lowering it,” she muttered over and over like a mantra, shaking her head.

Anti-nausea drugs stopped the persistent stomach pains, but Nagito was clearly far from comfortable. He stopped smirking and teasing Hajime, stopped laughing at Kazuichi’s silly jokes. He stopped putting himself down and babbling about how the four Ultimates were so full of kindness and hope to be fussing so much over someone like him. He just stared vacantly up at the ceiling, his eyes foggy and over-bright, his cheeks flushed.

They each toiled in their own way until dawn, when they finally collapsed with exhaustion, squashing up together on Hajime’s bed. They lay there undisturbed until Twogami came looking for them, concerned by the absences at breakfast. He shook Hajime awake, wanting to know why there were four people curled around each other like puppies on his bed, but all Hajime could focus on was Nagito. His head was resting on Hajime’s chest, burning hot through his shirt. The fever was still there. He’d woken up but the nightmare was still going.

It was a mercy that Twogami found them. He sent Mikan off to sleep in her own cabin and made Hajime give a detailed account of the previous night (he let Kazuichi remain asleep at the foot of the bed. Twogami knew he wouldn’t sleep again if he was disturbed, and he wasn’t in the way).

“If he gets any worse, we might have to contact Future Foundation,” Twogami said thoughtfully. “They’ll have more complex medical equipment.”

“We don’t need them,” Hajime snapped. “Especially Makoto.”

He’d thought Kazuichi was still sleeping, but he snorted. “Because Nagito gushes over Makoto. That’s why you don’t like him,” he mumbled sleepily, sitting up.

“Shut up, you hypocrite. Why didn’t you like Gundham before?” Hajime argued.

“I don’t know why you get so fussed, Makoto looks a lot like you.”

“He doesn’t!”

Twogami sighed and crossed his arms like an exasperated parent. “If you two want to bicker you can go do it outside. Nagito needs peace and quiet.” He sounded like a parent too, and the other men quietened immediately and focused on Nagito again.

Nagito didn’t seem to wake up properly. He could open his eyes (though this looked like it was taking an extreme amount of effort) but he didn’t speak or even react very much when somebody spoke to him. He barely blinked when Hajime tried to make him sip water or Kazuichi tapped on his cheek and called his name. Mikan was forced to give him fluids intravenously. When the afternoon brought no improvements, Hajime let Twogami contact Future Foundation for better medicine.

Hajime spent another anxious, sleepless night desperately holding Nagito - though he didn’t feel like Nagito. He hadn’t spoken a single word all day, and though Hajime was trying to be optimistic, he could feel panic pooling in his stomach like oil. Would the medicine get here in time? Would it even work? Nagito was so sick, as sick as he’d been with that awful Despair Disease. Hajime remembered how he’d left Nagito alone then; he wouldn’t make that mistake this time. He’d be there for Nagito - if he was even aware of Hajime at this point. It seemed less and less likely. He wasn’t even opening his eyes now. All Hajime could do was hold him, hold onto this lifeless, unresponsive husk that sucked in shallow breaths far too fast. He wondered if the real Nagito was somewhere deep inside, floating aimlessly, or if the fever had fried his brain completely and obliterated the strange, smart, fascinating person Hajime knew. No, surely he was being stupid. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Unless Mikan and Twogami were just being tactful. Maybe they both expected Nagito to perish and just didn’t want to snuff out Hajime’s hope. He clutched the burning body tighter.

“Don’t you dare die,” he whispered fiercely, cupping Nagito’s cheeks. “I mean it. Not after everything that’s happened. You can’t just give up now. You woke up once before. It took you the longest of everyone, but you still came back. Do it again, because I’ll lose my fucking mind if anyone else dies. You’d better fight this.” His eyes burned. Several tiny droplets of water fell onto Nagito’s face.

Hajime waited. He silently begged Nagito to open his eyes, whisper something coherent, clutch his hand… but nothing happened. Hajime held him all night, terrified of drifting off to sleep in case he woke up and found Nagito stone cold and white and still. He’d found Nagito dead once. Bloody and bound, his eyes bulging with pain… No. It wasn’t real, even if it felt real. It wasn’t real it wasn’t real it wasn’t real.

Morning brought the stronger medicine from the Future Foundation. Twogami explained what it was and how it worked, but Hajime was so fuzzy-headed with lack of sleep and stress that he didn’t take any of it in.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Twogami said doubtfully. “Mikan set up the IV so you don’t have to worry about anything. You could leave one of us here, go get some rest.” He tried for ten minutes to convince him, but Hajime shook his head.

“I can’t leave him. Not until he’s better.”

“You’re so stubborn. At this rate we’ll need to start nursing you along with him,” Twogami muttered, but he left them alone. Mikan left as soon as she could too, apologising even more than usual. Maybe Hajime had been glaring at her? It wasn’t her fault, he just had a splitting headache, but he obviously couldn’t leave to go apologise. Not now.

Time had started to blur. Minutes crawled by like days, but then suddenly an entire hour could disappear in a second. Hajime stayed sitting by Nagito’s side, periodically holding his hand, begging him to squeeze his back. Nagito lay still, but his breathing had evened out considerably since he’d been given this new medication. Hajime tried tickling at his cheeks and smoothing back his hair and Nagito twitched and sighed - tiny reactions, but they were reactions. Hajime hardly dared let himself hope and he definitely didn’t dare let himself sleep, though he was so tired now he had shooting pains behind his eyes.

Later - much later - Kazuichi came back, bringing Hajime toast and coffee. He looked startled by the state he was in. “Good God, Hajime, you look worse than Nagito!”

“Thanks a bunch,” Hajime grumbled. He didn’t touch the toast but took a grateful gulp of coffee.

“Seriously, bro, when did you last sleep? Or eat? Or… shower?” Kazuichi asked, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed.

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Have you seriously not slept since he got sick?”

“How can I?” Hajime snapped. “Will you please stop bleating obvious questions at me, Kazuichi. Yes, I’m fucking tired and hungry and I look like shit right now, I know. But I’m trying to make sure my boyfriend doesn’t die right in front of me, so forgive me if I can’t give much of a fuck about anything else! I don’t have the energy to deal with you right now. So can you please just shut up or fuck off!” He was practically screaming by the end of it. Part of him really wanted Kazuichi to yell back, start a real fight; he was so tired and so frustrated and it was so easy to take it out on Kazuichi.

But Souda didn’t argue. He didn’t speak, but his eyes filled up and he ducked his head to hide his quivering lips. Hajime felt a sudden wave of shame wash over his head. He didn’t want to make Kazuichi cry (even if that was pretty easy to do).

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, putting his head in his hands. “Yes, I’m tired. Tired and miserable. It’s not your fault.”

“I know you’re tired. I thought I could stay here. Keep watch over Nagito for a bit. You can sleep next to him,” Kazuichi said, his voice cracking.

Hajime felt worse than ever. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He grabbed Kazuichi and pulled him into a clumsy hug. “You’re a good friend. Better than me.”

“I’m your best friend, right?” Kazuichi asked hopefully. “You’re not just being nice? Am I actually just annoying?”

“You are annoying. But you’re still my best friend.”

Kazuichi grinned. “Okay. And you’ll get some rest now? I think you really need it, Hajime. You’re so grouchy when you’re tired.”

Hajime rather wanted to grumble about that comment, but he didn’t want to prove Souda’s point. “You’ll wake me up if anything changes with Nagito? Even something tiny. Even if you’re not sure it’s a change, can you wake me up to check?”

“Yes. God, you’re worse than Peko with Fuyuhiko. Do you really love him, Hajime?” Kazuichi asked.

“Look, we’re not at a pre-teen sleepover, Kazuichi. I don’t want to sit here with you and gossip about boys,” Hajime said, shuffling close to Nagito. He wasn’t sure - maybe it was wishful thinking - but he thought Nagito’s body was slightly cooler.

“See what I mean. Grumpy,” Kazuichi mumbled.

Hajime didn’t bother to reply this time. He didn’t think he’d manage to get a wink of sleep with all the stress and worry, but he was out like a light almost immediately, so exhausted he didn’t even dream. He wasn’t sure how long Kazuichi kept vigil at their bedside (several hours, he guessed. Kazuichi was a good friend) but he was gone when Hajime opened his eyes. The silvery dawn light was filtering in through the windows, bathing their furniture in a soft glow. Something was burrowing into Hajime’s chest like a small animal.

“Nagito..?” Hajime mumbled, still half-asleep.

“Of course. Who else do you invite into bed, Hajime?”

“Nobody, dumbass.” Then it clicked and Hajime was instantly awake, peering through the dim light. Nagito truly was awake, looking very pale and sleepy and weak, but his eyes were open. Hajime clutched onto him at once, holding him as tight as he dared. Nagito felt as fragile as glass, like he might shatter altogether if Hajime squeezed too hard.

“Careful, you’ll yank my IV out,” Nagito mumbled, but he buried his face into Hajime’s shoulder too. His skin was still clammy, still warm, but not that terrifying burning anymore. Nagito felt clammy all over. “You should wait till I’ve showered before we do all the tearful reunions.”

“Shut up. I need a shower too,” Hajime said hoarsely. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Fuck, it’s good to see you awake and talking.”

“How long was I out?”

“Several days. How much do you remember?”

Nagito paused. “I remember the night Mikan and Kazuichi came. It gets a bit muddled after that. Someone tried to make me drink quite a few times. Nothing much then. Except…”

“Except?”

“Perhaps I was dreaming. I couldn’t imagine somebody caring so much for someone like-”

“Oh Christ, I haven’t missed that,” Hajime groaned. “Just tell me what you remember!”

“You. Your voice, telling me not to die. Though it sounded more like you were threatening me not to die. And something dripping on me.”

Hajime felt his face flushing. It seemed like years ago that he’d hovered over Nagito and frantically begged him to keep fighting. “Trust you to remember something embarrassing like that.”

“Were you truly crying?”

“What else would I be doing? Drooling on you?”

“You hardly ever cry.”

“I’ve never seen you that sick before,” Hajime admitted. He held Nagito in the hug so he couldn’t see his face. It was somehow easier to blurt it all out in the gloomy morning half-light. “It was… fucking horrible. I didn’t dare sleep. I haven’t felt scared like that since the simulation. I thought I was going to lose you… just like Chiaki.”

There was a long, pregnant pause. Hajime could feel Nagito’s breath tickling against his neck.

“We smell awful,” Nagito finally whispered.

Hajime started spluttering with laughter. “For God’s sake! Can’t you ever be serious?”

“You know I don’t have any idea how to comfort people. But… you shouldn’t worry so much when I get sick. Not just because I’m me, but because my luck usually comes through for me eventually. It hasn’t let me die yet. Well, except in the simulation.”

“Shut up. Don’t talk about that,” Hajime said quickly. “Izuru has luck too. So that should mean I’m stuck with you forever.”

He rather expected Nagito to shoot back with some sort of self-deprecating response like “poor you” but Nagito was silent for a while. He was practically in Hajime’s lap now, his skinny legs wound around Hajime’s waist.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?” The words were so quiet Hajime barely heard.

“Thank you for taking care of me. Nobody has ever done that before,” Nagito said, his voice as light and delicate as the dawn. He still found it so hard to accept things like this. He’d spent so many years building walls around him and then Hajime had come along and blasted through them in an instant. Nagito felt raw and vulnerable and exposed - but there was a warm feeling in his stomach too, new and unfamiliar.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Hajime promised.

“You’ll probably have to. My immune system is awful.”

“Then I will. Needing things isn’t bad, Nagito. You’re not meant to do things all alone.”

“The thing we need right now is a wash.”

“Yes. We’d better get that over with first,” Hajime agreed - but despite their words they both remained in their embrace, clinging to each other with desperate strength, long after that sun had risen properly.

[allegra-writes]

"Bad Together"

Part I: Contact

Peter Parker x Reader

Teen and up

Warnings: language, UST.

"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight

Hunt you down, eat you alive

Just like animals"

Animals - Maroon 5

“Hey kid! Rough night? You look like shit…” 

You sighed, turning away from your door to face your neighbour. Had it been anyone else, you would just have given them the finger and gotten inside your apartment. But not her. Not when she could have information for you.

“Gee, thanks Jess! You do know how to sweet talk a girl.” 

The seemingly -deceptively- fragile brunette’s eyeroll could have rivaled your own signature one, as she kicked away from the wall and crossed the hallway in your direction.

“As if sweet talking would work on you…”

Despite your exhaustion and bad mood, you managed to munster a small sad smile as your mind wandered unbidden to another time, to what felt like another life. 

And to a boy with warm brown eyes and even warmer skin. 

"You'd be surprised…"

Jessica raised a questioning eyebrow, but you just shook your head.

"I have your payment, if that's what you're looking for…"

You said, changing the subject. Her face fell, causing your heart to drop to your stomach. You knew that look. The regret in her green eyes, the pity. You knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth. It wasn't really surprising after all: fourteen months without any clues, without any new developments or witnesses? She wanted to drop the case.

"Listen, kid-" 

"No" you cut her off, your voice breaking no arguments, "whatever you're going to say, I won't accept it. I pay you, and you keep on looking for my sister. That's how this works. Let's not fuck this beautiful friendship of ours up." 

You added, only partly sarcastic. You were perfectly aware that, as closed off and damaged as you both were, you were probably the closest thing to a friend either of you had. 

And, for her part, Jessica knew that, if she didn't do the dirty work for you, you would be the one crawling up vents and climbing up balconies, sliding your way into seedy bars and even seedier alleys. You were stubborn like that. And truth be told, she had grown a little protective of you.

She pursed her lips, the wheels turning inside her head. 

"Well then," she finally proposed, "What about you pay me when I actually find something worth paying for?"

It took your drowsy brain a moment to process her words. You were ashamed of the moisture that found its way to your eyes, the knot in your throat that didn't allow you to let out anything more than a weak "Jessica" as a reply. But you were too worn out to be able to keep the emotions at bay. It had been too long since anyone had shown you that type of kindness, gratefulness was not something you were used to feeling. 

"I'm not giving up on the case," she promised, "but I'm not taking your money anymore. At least not until I deserve it."

She was telling the truth, you knew her enough to be able to tell that. If anything, she was going to work even harder to try and get the investigation moving.

"Thank you." 

You really meant it.

"Don't mention it” she shrugged, downplaying it, like every good deed she made. "Now get inside and get some sleep. You look dead." 

You did roll your eyes at that, missing her affectionate smirk as you disappeared through the door, muttering a laconic. "Yes, mom."

The darkness and quiet that greeted you inside your apartment felt like a soothing balm to your over stimulated mind, a much needed respite after your long, adrenaline filled evening. That was why you didn't even bother to turn the lights on as you let your backpack fall anywhere on the tile floor, stepping out of your sneakers and pulling your shirt over your head. 

The cold early morning breeze sent goosebumps along your skin, bringing your attention to the open window. 

You froze. You were always very careful not to let any windows open, Hell's Kitchen was a tough neighbourhood for a spoiled cat like your Selina to be out and about. 

A flash of movement at the corner of your eye was all you needed before your senses went haywire again, instinct kicking in as you jumped high in the air to twirl and land a kick to the back of whoever was in your apartment. But the intruder was expecting it, dodging just in time and turning around to block your punch. Getting a hold of your wrist, the dark figure twisted and pulled you forwards until you fell, back flushed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around yours in a vice-like grip, effectively immobilizing you.

"Easy there, Smokey." A way too familiar voice breathed against your ear, "you're going to hurt yourself." 

You stopped struggling against his grasp. Right. Of course it was him.

"Peter?"

His grip grew tighter for a moment, before letting go.

"Hello, Y/N."

Just like that, it all came back to you: The memories you had tried to repress, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury, washing over you like a flood, a tsunami hitting you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs once again. As you took an unsteady step away from him, you prayed that Peter hadn't noticed. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice place," Peter ignored your question, choosing to casually pace your living room instead. "Bit of a downgrade from the upper west side, though…"

"Fine," you scoffed, turning to him, "you wanna do small talk? Let's do small talk: what’s with the edgelord look?" You pointed at his tar-black suit. 

"Biotech," the suit retracted from his face and head, reminding you of the nanobots suit he used to wear before Dr. Octopus destroyed it. "Do you like it?" 

You shrugged,

"Stark industries?"

He shook his head. 

"Horizon Lab."

Well, that was interesting. You knew the little, independent company owned by one of his ex-girlfriends had helped him manufacture a couple of special suits developed from his very own webs, after his emancipation from the Starks. But you had no idea they had reached such level of refinement, and you had a feeling neither did Fury. 

"You like it?"

"You look… taller," You noted. That wasn't the only difference; his hair was longer, wilder, his shoulders wider, his arms far bigger than you recalled.

"You look exactly the same," he countered, as open as he had always been. "Just as beautiful as I remembered…"

You sighed, tiredly. You didn't have the energy for that — for his charm, his candidness. What was more, you weren't prepared at all. 

No, you weren't prepared for this Peter. Your Peter. Not after what all that Fury had told you…

"What do you want, Peter?"

He leveled you with a look, his whole demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. 

"I could ask you the exact same thing…"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Y/N. Don't play dumb with me, it doesn't suit you." His sudden bluntness surprised you, but it was more along the lines of what Fury had warned you to expect so it didn't completely manage to throw you off. 

You crossed your arms, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Really, now?" Peter took a step forward, towering over you. "You don't? Hanging out at my spots, patrolling my neighbourhood, taking down my thugs?" He enumerated.

"Your thugs?"

"The kingpin is mine," he growled.

"Since when?"

"You fucking know since when!" You tried to hide your flinch at his rising tone, but he must have noticed because a moment later, he was closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, visibly trying to get a hold of himself. 

"I thought Queens was your neighbourhood…" You spoke, trying to diffuse the tension after a couple beats had passed without him moving.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, opening his eyes, "I relocated."

"So did I…" 

"You did," he smiled. And just like that, he was back at being your Peter. "And you mean to tell me all of this." He pressed a button in his wrist, "isn't to get my attention?" 

A hologram version of Jade's video started to play in front of your impassive eyes. And you might have thought your carefully constructed mask of indifference gave away nothing, but Peter could see right through it. You didn't seem surprised to see the video and that alone was enough proof for him to confirm his theory. 

"Please, Smokey, security footage?" He smirked, "this isn't like you. You aren't this sloppy."

Another click and the video was gone.

"Well, this might come as a surprise to you, but everything isn't always about you." 

"Then what's going on?"

"None of your fucking business!"

Before you could react, the floor disappeared from under your feet, and your back hitted the wall with enough force to rattle the windows. 

"Like hell it isn't," Peter hissed, his weight pinning you upright. "Now tell me, what the fuck did you get yourself into this time?"

As you stared into his stormy eyes, heart racing inside your chest, unsure if the adrenaline coursing through your veins was because of the obvious threat in front of you, or for another reason entirely, you wondered exactly the same. 

Your tongue came out to moist your lips, Peter's dark pupils following the movement.

"It's been over a year," you breathed out, all the fight leaving you. It was too much, his sweet breath fanning over your face, every inch of his hard body pressed up against yours, overpowering you, the slick texture of his new suit against your bare chest… it was intoxicating. You had overestimated yourself. "Why do you even care?"

"I will always care about you," he confessed softly, just as affected by the closeness as you. "I will always want you…"

You closed your eyes, trying to get your erratic heart under control.

"Maybe I don't want you anymore, Peter." 

He pushed you harder against the wall, his forearm against your collarbone to prevent you from moving. 

"Don't do that," he whispered, lips ghosting over yours. "Don't torture me."

"Peter…"

BAM.

You fell to your knees, hard, Peter's body suddenly no longer supporting your weight. 

"Touch her again, and I'll kill you!"

"J-Jess?" 

"Hey, kid. You alright?" Your neighbour barely even spared you a glance over her shoulder as she placed herself between you and a newly irate looking Peter, slowly getting up from the rumble of splinters of wood and shards of glass that used to be your coffee table.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in confusion.

"I heard a noise," she deadpanned, eyes never leaving the dark cladded vigilante. But to your surprise Peter merely raised his hands in surrender, the bulk of his rage vanishing the moment he understood the woman in front of him was only trying to protect you. 

"This isn't what it looks like…" He tried to explain, but Jessica would have none of it.

"Yeah, sure" she scoffed. "Big guy, totally dressed, pinning a half naked girl to the wall in the dark... totally not rapey."

Peter flinched. She was right, he wouldn't believe himself either. 

"Listen, you're Jessica Jones, right?" Recognizing the woman in front of him, suddenly your choice in real state made a lot more sense. "I am- I was," he quickly corrected himself, "Peter Parker. Your friend, Matt Murdock, he knows me… look, I'm not- I'm not a bad guy." 

Even to his ears, he sounded unconvincing.

"Really?" Jess pointed at his black costume, "Cause you definitely look like a bad guy." 

"I… Y/n, help me out here," he threw you a pleading look but Jess moved to the side, blocking you from view.

"Hey, fuckface!" She snapped, drawing Peter's attention back to her, "the only reason I'm not kicking your ass right now is because of Matt. But if I ever see you next to Y/N ever again, I'll break every single bone of your body. Twice. Now get the fuck out of here, before I run out of fucking patience."

"Y/N?"

You sighed, getting up. Away from him, and with Jess there as a boofer between the both of you, you were no longer under the influence and could clearly see exactly how fucked up the situation was.

"I think you should leave, Peter." 

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a mask of indolence as he squared his jaw and turned away, letting the bio-suit close over his head again.

"I looked for her too, you know?" He admitted, before making his exit through the same window he had come in from.

You had no time to dwell on his words or anything of what had just happened, before Jess was on your face. 

"That was Peter? Your sister's boyfriend, the one you told me I didn't need to investigate?"

You resisted the urge to shrink under her look,

"Yeah…"

"You told me he was harmless. That did not look harmless!"

You couldn't really argue with that, so you didn't. Instead you gestured at her to be quiet, as you reached past her to pick up your phone, your landline phone, the one you had never bothered connecting. 

The one you knew was bugged.

With voice as clear and steady as you were able to manage, you spoke into the mic,

"Contact made. Awaiting further instructions." 

To be continued...

[jolynej]

I’m Not in Love

Summary: You and Prosciutto, both determined to keep things casual, are sent out on a mission to eliminate a target, but something goes wrong and you end up hurt, forcing Prosciutto to come to terms with his feelings

A/N: I started this weeks ago, but have been so busy that I haven’t had time to properly finish it until now! I’m a very slow writer, and I struggle with creating longer fics that exceed 1k words, so this was a huge labor of love! I hope that y’all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Warnings: heavily implied nsft, violence, guns, minor character death, blood, Prosciutto being a bit of an asshole, fainting

You both told each other when you made this arrangement that it was strictly physical and that you were only doing this out of convenience and carnal desire. Sure, he’s very attractive, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about lingering in bed and pretending that you’re still asleep if only to savor his body heat and the weight of his arm across your torso for a few more minutes. But you couldn’t possibly cross that line.

The lives that both you led didn’t allow for the luxury of developing and maintaining romantic — or any, really — relationships that were outside of your work. You’d lost friends and family members to the steady passage of time and lack of communication. It came with the territory of the job, and though you’d tried to justify your drifting relationships by assuring yourself that it was done to protect those you used to hold close, you knew that was just an excuse you told yourself so that you could sleep at night.

The initial adjustment to your new job was tough in that aspect, but Prosciutto, aside from being your mentor, slowly became a comfort and a confidant for your bouts of anxiety and late night regrets of leaving your old life behind. You’d joined him outside at night on the balcony of the hideout plenty of times. He would self-soothe with cigarettes, exhaling out his demons in the shape of a puff of smoke whilst he listened to you reminisce on your happier, less bloody days.

“It’s a damn shame you’re so good at you job,” he’d told you one particular night, when the orange and white city lights below cast a bright glow over his sharp features; yet simultaneously, it accentuated the dark circles under his eyes, and the shadows beneath those jagged angles of his cheekbones and jawline made him look far older than he was. Prosciutto looked beautiful as he did horrible.

You just shook your head and smirked, inquiring, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Kid, there were many different paths that you could’ve picked from,” He stops briefly to take a drag of his cigarette. “But this is what you opted for.” The blond flicked his cigarette and snuffed it with the toe of his oxfords, answering with, “All I’m saying is that you had your whole life ahead of you, and instead of getting a normal, decent job, you decided that this was worth the Louboutins and those diamond earrings of yours.”

“It’s good that it ended up working out for you.”

His compliments were usually pretty backhanded, but you could tell that this wasn’t just because of his usual condescending behavior. He seemed almost... sad and guilty, but then again, it could just be from the shadows on his face exaggerating his features.

“I’m glad you’re damn good at your job, too,” you remarked, leaning against the railing, savoring in the feeling of the warm, summer night wind caressing your face.

Soon, you found the touch against your cheeks was replaced by his calloused fingers and then his lips, giving birth to a routine that would continue every-so-often: you’d join him outside at night and would wake up in bed next to him in a tangle of limbs and satin sheets.

Maybe it was only natural that you and him would end up growing closer and more intimate.

—

This little arrangement between the two of you continues, and with each time you bare yourself to him, you struggle with your developing feelings. After you had slept together that first night — before you had a real chance to give yourself a proper chance to evaluate your own feelings — he assured you that the prior night’s events had meant nothing to him, that it was a mistake. He apologized, confessing that the rendezvous had stemmed from a place of pent up arousal and convenience and that it wouldn’t happen again.

That’s what he’d said the second, and third, time too. But by the fourth time, you’d both decided to become ‘coworkers with benefits’ as you’d so eloquently put it. It’s purely out of physical need and mutual trust and nothing else. There’s no time for romance.

—

The following spring, you were sent out together to a job on the coast, and were given a shared room at a hotel near the warehouse where your target was supposedly going to be tonight. The assignment had worked in your favor, you’d both arrive mid-morning, have time to scout out the location, go back to the room for a quick fuck, then proceed to the location, clean up, and spend the night between the sheets until you both passed out from sheer exhaustion.

“The target should be on location this evening,” he informs you casually as he’s sliding on his trousers, as if he hadn’t just fucked you into the mattress. He gives his watch a quick glance before speaking again. “Which gives us approximately an hour before we need to head out.”

You nod, reaching for your clothes — his hand stops you, grasping your wrist. “Let me clean you up first,” he says, briefly locking eyes with you, before averting his gaze just as quickly. “If you’re going out you should at least be comfortable.”

While Prosciutto walks off to the bathroom to retrieve a glass of water and a washcloth, you look down at your naked body. Your combined releases dribble down your thighs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of the sticky, wet sensation on your lower body.

He’s back approximately a minute later, the glass is set upon the nightstand, and he’s kneeling, still shirtless, at your feet with the wet washcloth in hand. He cleans you up in relative silence, and the intimacy and vulnerability in this situation is not lost on either of you. It hangs around like a heavy fog that both of you desperately try to ignore, hoping that it’ll dissipate.

Under different circumstances, you’d love to be able to cradle his chin in your hand and confess every single romantic thought that you’d ever held for him, and in turn, he’d press tender kisses up your thighs, and trade the rag for his tongue, cleaning you up with a few slow licks. Instead, you give him a curt, ‘thank you’ and get dressed.

Your little trysts were littered with subtle, more domestic moments like this one where you wanted to push the boundary between what is and isn’t appropriate when you’re in a friends-with-benefits situation with your coworker. Even without the romance that you so desperately craved, there was still a strong sense of intimacy and familiarity with each ‘Was I too rough?’ or ‘You can sleep in here tonight’ that could only stem from a certain level of trust and comfort.

The rest of the time leading up to your assignment was spent going over your plan of attack and working out any loose ends or confusion on either side, and as he spoke, you couldn’t help but allow your eyes to travel down to his plush lips and the exposed patch of skin from his half-buttoned blouse that, when he shifted at a certain angle, allowed for you to catch a glimpse of a dark red bruise where your lips had been.

You were passing the threshold, the imaginary line. You’d stepped on it, gotten it stuck to your feet, and try as you may to deny its presence and scrub it clean from your skin — you could scrub it raw, until you bled — it wasn’t something you could erase.

As he’s stepping out of the hotel room, you glance back to ask him if he’s ready, but you’re caught off guard by the buttons of his shirt. They’re all closed completely save for a lone button rendering the bruise no longer visible. Inquisitively, the blond quirks up an eyebrow, silently asking if there’s a problem.

“I’m just ready to get this over with,” you sigh, matching your stride with his as you both exit the hotel and journey to the warehouse.

The target doesn’t show as planned, much to your and Prosciutto's dismay and annoyance. You had both searched the large building and its surroundings as thoroughly as possible but still the target hasn’t made an appearance. There aren’t even any hidden clues as to where he’s run off to. As pissed as you both felt in that moment — you were cursing to yourself and your partner was leaning against a metal structure with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth — Risotto was going to be absolutely furious.

Unlike most contracts where you were paid after the deed or half before and half after, the client had paid a hefty sum up front and with a dark leer he was insistent that the job be completed as soon as possible. Something deep within you knew that he would not be the type of man whose bad side you’d like to be on.

Defeated and angry, you both decided to bite the bullet and head back to the hotel to inform your superior of the unfortunate situation. Just outside of the hotel, Prosciutto glances over at a payphone on the street corner.

“Go on inside and shower and eat, kid, I’ll talk to Risotto.”

“Are you sure? We can speak to him together, or I can just sp—“ He cut you off with a hand patting your cheek, gently thumbing your skin. He was stressed and so were you.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he manages a tiny half-smile. “I’ve got it.”

Yeah, you are stressed as all hell, but at least you didn’t have to be at the receiving end of Risotto’s wrath — for tonight anyway. Thinking about Prosciutto opting to do so in your stead and acting out of concern for you sends a cacophony of butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. He has always looked out for you ever since you’d joined, but this was something more than just him looking out for a junior member of his team. There was no way that he’d touch Formaggio or even Pesci like that, with such a pure tenderness that leaves your skin tingling from where his fingers were.

Making your way up the stairs to your shared room, the sensation of butterflies immediately flees from your stomach and instead, an eerie, insidious feeling begins to tiptoe up your spine, and you get the sense that something is very, very wrong.

One of the hall lights has gone out, and the other is flickering in random spasms as it emits a faint buzz. With each step towards your door, the broken light fixture seems to dim and buzz louder until it makes one final loud screech and dies completely the moment that you touch the door handle, and as soon as your fingers gripped the metal handle, an overpowering jolt of electricity fizzles throughout your entire body, sending you doubling over in pain, desperately croaking out for your stand as you fall to the dingy carpet.

The world around you seemed to morph into blackness and little snippets of sounds — you weren’t sure if you were still awake or if you’d lost consciousness — but you clung onto what you could decipher to the best of your ability. Static, the plodding footfall of someone running on carpet with urgency, the unmistakable click of a gun, a heavy thud, then silence.

You crane your head and espy a familiar pair of oxfords, and with a sigh of relief you feel your eyes grow heavy.

—

You come-to in the backseat of a car, and if it weren’t for the intensity of the events before you passed out, you would’ve happily shut your eyes to the steady thrum of the car speeding down the road. A bubble of panic rises up your throat, throwing your senses in overdrive as you carefully assess your surroundings. You find that a suit jacket has been draped over you like a makeshift blanket, and the familiar scent of cologne, tobacco, and cigarette-smoke is an instant relief.

Looking up, you find Prosciutto is in the driver’s seat of the car with a plain, white tank top in the place of his button-up. The bones of his knuckles are prominent due to the strain and force of his grip on the steering wheel, and they’re dotted with specks of red that extend up to his forearms.

There’s an evident scowl on his lips, which are scabbed and bloody from worrying teeth marks and not from — what you can safely assume given the sound you’d heard earlier — a gunshot to the man that had been in your hotel room.

“The target was dealt with,” he says upon seeing you awake, and he disguises it with a cough, but his entire face softens with a relieved sigh. The visible tension in his bulging veins on his forearms eases along with the death-grip that he has on the steering wheel; Prosciutto settles one hand on his thigh, splaying his fingers out on the fabric of his trousers, feeling for something in his pocket — cigarettes most likely. He’s still antsy and tense, alternating between his hands on the wheel to search his other pocket.

You have a myriad of questions wreaking havoc on your brain, which is still a bit fuzzy from the electricity and has brought on a dull headache. With the blazer clenched tightly to your chest, you fiddle around until you find a pack of his smokes and pull them out, holding them in the air with a dopey, lopsided grin that says ‘lookee here!’. It earns a playful eye roll and a smirk from Prosciutto who brings his hand back to take them from you.

When you offer the box up, your fingers brush, and you swear that he leaves his hand extended towards you a moment longer than necessary. The sensation sends a full-body chill through your veins.

“Put the coat on, kid, I don’t want you freezing up and getting sick in the car.” He’s staring straight out at the road, but you know the sentiment is there, beneath the layer of sweat and blood there’s worry. “Go back to sleep,” he orders in that gravelly, stern but caring tone of his that he uses on you when he gives you orders, and only you. In a way, it’s not that much different from how he talks in bed, and the familiarity has you warm all over. God, you’re in love with this man.

“I’ll wake you up in about an or two, capisce?”

—

You’re awoken by Prosciutto opening the door of the backseat and calling your name. You can barely see him, he’s almost a dark, looming figure in the night. The sky in the countryside is worlds away from the city skyline that you’re accustomed to. Behind him, there’s a sea of twinkling stars, and the bright crescent moon hangs proudly behind his head like a half-halo, and he appears to you like a fallen angel, still clinging on desperately to something good and holy that someone like him does not deserve. In his right hand, he holds a shovel, and his arms and face and tank top are caked in the weight of his sins, blood and dirt and sweat; you surmise that the closer you get to him, the less the moon resembles a halo and moreso a pair of horns. Again, the night is playing tricks on you.

“I’ve buried the remains,” he explains. “I decided it would be easiest to just take care of it myself until we can get you checked out. We don’t know the full extent of the damage that you’ve received or what effects that my stand could have on you in this state.” It’s a poor excuse, and you both know it, but it’s easier for him to lie to you when his facial expressions are harder to see.

Still, you don’t know if it’s from the adrenaline in your blood, your feelings for him, or some leftover electricity that’s done something to your brain, but you decide to call him out.

Sitting upright, you say, “I still could’ve helped, Prosci, otherwise there would be no point for me to come on this mission with you. You’ve done more than enough to help me, and I… I really appreciate everything that you’ve done to help me, but I have to work to earn my share of the payment!

“I can’t just lie back and let you treat me like some doll or damsel in distress!” You spout, wadding up his blazer and tossing it at him. He catches it with a growl, and the shovel clatters to the ground with a resounding clang.

He’s crawling across the backseat, hovering over you like a mangy beast; truthfully, you don’t think that you’ve ever seen him look so unhinged and disheveled. His scent bears no resemblance to the comforting aroma of his suit-jacket, and instead, he emits a pungent odor of grime and sweat, evident by the damp, dirty stray pieces of hair that encircle his face and the thin layer of earth that stains his skin with splotches of gray and brown. He looks like he can hurt you, and for a second you make the mistake of thinking that he will.

“Kid, you need to listen to me! I—“ he huffs, but upon seeing your face up close, all scared and doe-like, he kisses you. It’s emotional and hurried and needy and far unlike any previous kiss that you’d shared. It’s not spurred on by wanting or lust but by love and a great fear of loss.

“I love you,” he whispers like a gasp when he pulls apart from you. “I love you,” he says once more, softer, sweeter. “I love you.”

In his eyes, you can see every word that he leaves unsaid, his confession of how afraid he was that he’d never see you again, how he panicked and saw red and shot the man on sight, how he carried you to the car with a metaphorical knife stabbing at his heart, and how he almost cried from relief when he saw you open your eyes.

“I love you, too,” you say back, smiling, kissing him again with that same passion as before.

[asmo-ds]

How about MC fuses with one of the brothers and undatables due to an accidental curse (DBZ Style), what hijinks would happen from their personalities mixing and would they want to unfuse? Sorry for the weird ask, stupid questions just pop up in my noggin <3

&

When They Fuse with MC 

PLEASE READ

A/N: I have never watched DBZ so I cant ensure this is going to be entirely correct, BUT I hope you can enjoy it anyways :) <3

- When he fuses with MC, he is stressed asf because hIS PAPERWORK HOW IS HE GONNA DO IT IF HE HAS TO DEAL WITH THIS D:

- I think that  the pieces of Lucifer would be contribute are his constant need to work and his powers as the eldest of the seven demon lords.

- The worst aspect of fusing with him is his constant nagging and need for complete control, leaving you to just sit back and let him move your joint form

- I think he’d want to unfuse simply because he has work that needs to get done and he misses his MC and doesn’t like it when he and they are one person

- He prefers to “become one” and connect in other ways if you’re picking up what im putting down ;)))

- When he and MC fuse, he is terrified, like holy shit he didn’t know this was possible

-He would contribute his speed and his passion for conning demons

- MC probably will slap him when they unfuse because they didn’t like being a con man and he’ll be sad

- The worst thing about fusing with him would be the fact he is stronger than them so he’s able to force them to do dirty deeds

- I don’t think he’d want to unfuse because he loves MC and their personality and being so close to them without actually having to say how he feels is awesome

- HOLY SHIT HENRY HELP HIM 

- He’s gonna have an aneurysm he and MC are fused together AHHHHH-

- I think what he’d contribute to the fusion is his nervousness and his swimming skills and his power to summon Lotan

- I think the worst thing would be his anxiety because he is so used to his own body and controlling it that trying to work a whole new body with a whole other person is very nerve wracking

- He wants to unfuse because he hates himself and hates seeing himself in MC and would rather they be them and he be himself 

- Well this is.... interesting

- He is so curious as to how this works and how the curse effected them

- His contributions would be his rage and his knowledge

- The only bad part is feeling his rage as he holds so much inside that it hurts, and MC may not be used to that amount of anger

- But he tries to make it as comfortable as possible for them and wants to unfuse so he can stop hurting them

- He’s used to entering people but this.... this is quite odd honestly

- His contributions would definitely be his power to look people in the eyes and control them and his beauty

- Like MC and Asmo combined? The most gorgeous fusion

- The bad part about it is that there is CONSTANT arousal

- Like you have to feel all of his horny the entire time you’re fused

- I think he’d want to unfuse because he prefers MC being themselves rather than being influenced by him

- Honestly thought he ate MC for a minute

- When he realized they fused he’s just like “oh ok” 

- He would contribute his barbaric strength as well as a small portion of his hunger

- The worst part of fusing with Beel is his hunger because even if it’s not as intense as his normal hunger, it still hurts

- He’d want to unfuse because he misses MC and doesn’t like that he’s hurting them with his black hole of a stomach

- He is asleep when it happens so when he suddenly is in a different body that he and MC control he is like ????? What the fuck????

- He would contribute his drowsiness and his demonic strength

- But he’ll let MC take the most control over the fusion since he is tired

- The worst aspect of fusing with Belphie is for sure the constant randomly falling asleep everywhere because they’re trying to undo this curse but they just keep fALLING ASLEEP

- Wants to unfuse because he doesn’t like not having MC’s small body curled against his own when he naps

- Oh this is funny

- He finds this hilarious, like you’re stuck in a fusion Diavolo pls take this seriously

- He would contribute his strength and his charisma

- The worst part of fusing is having to do all his ~royal duties~

- He’d want to unfuse because he knows keeping the human exchange student like that could ruin the program, plus he can tell they’re tired

- He knew this was going to happen and he did nothing to stop it

- He wanted to know what it was like to fuse with MC

- He’d contribute his calm demeanor and his demon strength

- The worst part of fusing with him is they have to deal with Diavolo 24/7 and it is so exhausting

- He’d want to unfuse because he prefers them as themselves and would prefer to have control over his own body rather than a whole different one he has to share

- He cast the curse on purpose lol he wanted to annoy MC

- His contributions to the fusion would be his pacts and his magic

- The worst  part of fusing with him is having so many pacts because even just having a pact takes magic energy, which is why he tries to make sure it’s taking his magic instead of MC

- He’d want to unfuse because he gets annoyed by MC and MC gets annoyed by him

-Like compromising with this man is so difficult he’s such a douche bag

- Oh :( This isn’t good

- Very calm about the situation 

- He would contribute his kind nature

-Like they’ll end up stopping to help EVERYONE who remotely looks like they need assistance

- That’s the worst part tbh because it almost feels like they’ll get nowhere moving at this pace

- He’d want to unfuse because MC doesn’t belong in a body they have to share with him, they are their own person :)

- WHATTTTT

- He is so confused

- Their fusion is so small and cute and is like a kitten with a knife

- Wants to unfuse bc he can feel the dirty demon pact marks from MC >:(((

[mickeyhenrysgf]

all yours

Summary: You and Bucky break up unexpectedly but the two of you are still not over each other.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: smut, Jealous!Bucky, degrading language, spankings, unprotected sex

He hated it. Hated every bit it. He was yours. You were his.. Not until the two of you ended things abruptly, a few weeks ago.

It was movie night at the tower. While you couldn’t stand to look at Bucky, you didn’t want to ignore your friends. So, here you were cuddled up on Steve’s lap as everyone settled to their preferred seats.

You could feel Steve was tense under you. Why? Well, Bucky was giving him murder eyes from across the room.

One wrong move and it was over for Steve.

“Doll, are you sure about all of this?” Steve questioned sweetly, his hands carefully above the blankets and away from you skin.

What the hell was Steve even thinking Bucky thought to himself. Bucky’s hands gripped the seat, his eyes never leaving you. His jaw clenched anytime Steve’s fingertips grazed your skin. He must’ve looked crazy to the team, but frankly he didn’t care. He was jealous.

You roll your eyes. “Come on Stevie! Don’t tell me you’re scared of Bucky. He’d never hurt you.”

“Well... when it comes to you... I mean he loves—“ you caught him off. Your fingers going to his lips. You shut your eyes for a moment, knowing what Steve was going to say. Moments from 7 months ago flashed across your mind.

“I do care about you sweetheart, but you have to understand, they need me. I’m not going to just leave my job for you, that’s ridiculous—“ Bucky stopped immediately. He went too far. He didn’t mean for his words to come out like that. But, it was too late, the deed had been done.

You laughed sarcastically hearing his final words which pushed you over the edge.

“No, I-I just stop. He broke up with me remember?” Steve sighed heavily as he listened to you and nodded, trying to get more comfortable in his seat.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes. Your arms wrapped around Steve’s body, as your head rested on his chest. Steve moved around in his seat but you didn’t mind. Little did you know he was secretly communicating with Bucky.

“Get off of her now” Bucky mouthed from across the room.

“I can’t—“

“Yes, you can” Bucky began to stand up from his seat. Before you could understand what was going on, Bucky’s voice startled you, your head shooting up from Steve’s chest.

“I’d never thought you stoop so low and flirt with my best friend”

“Excuse me!”

“Oh, you heard me loud and clear. Now, get up. We need to talk” Bucky whispered harshly, looking down in disgust with the way you were wrapped around Steve. “Y/N, we both know that I’ll throw you over my shoulder... so take your pick.”

You sighed in defeat. Removing yourself from Steve and stood up, you could’ve sworn you heard Bucky sigh in relief.

“I’m sorry-“ Steve mouthed and looked at you with an apologetic look.

You followed Bucky, waiting for the inevitable. More crying and yelling at Bucky but good thing there was soundproof walls thanks to Tony, you thought sarcastically.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?” He spat through his teeth before slamming the door close with his metal arm.

You scoffed, settling yourself down on the edge of his bed. You looked around his room. The familiar scent of him intoxicating you. He didn’t change a thing. Everything in his room had stayed the same since the break up.

“Why do you fuckin’ care Bucky? Huh? You left me!” Your spat right back at him, your words fueled with anger.

“You know you’re not allowed to talk me like that, little girl” he growled bending down to reach your eye level. Your breath hitched lightly as Bucky’s hand grabbed your jaw. “And I didn’t leave you...”

“Oh, is that the game you want to play now?” you rolled you eyes trying to turn your face from his impending glare but Bucky’s strong hold on your jaw made you stay in place. You weren’t scared of Bucky.

“Strip”

“What?”

“I’m not asking twice. I’m gotta remind you who this pussy belongs to” His words caught you off guard. Bucky’s eyes didn’t leave you as you started to peel off your clothes. You hated the fact that you couldn’t deny his commands.

“That’s my good girl... maybe you’ll learn that the only man you’re allowed to sit on is me.” he glowered crawling onto the bed and hovering over you. His thumb stroking your cheek and finding their way to your bottom lip. “You’d actually think I’d leave you” he mumbled against your lips.

“Baby, you’re mine” he said with no doubt as he removed his shirt but his wounds caught you off guard.

There was new scratches, scars, and even stitches. “Bucky, what happened?” Your hands going to trace his wounds but he grabbed your hands and kissed them before pulling away.

“Work.” Thats all he wanted you to know as his lips pressed against your neck and trailed down the valley of your breasts. Your hips voluntary bucking against his jeans.

“I missed you...” You couldn’t understand Bucky’s intentions. He was being soft but you knew he angry. Each kiss made you moan and want him more than ever. You wanted things back to how it used to be.

“I missed you more, baby girl. But, I have to punish you. You know that” You swallowed thickly and nodded. His hands running down your bare thighs, before spreading your legs nice and wide.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re so wet” his fingers running up and down your sleek folds, you shivered and moaned at his actions. “Is this for me or Steve?” He questioned as he flipped you over and spread you on his lap.

Your breath hitching as you knew exactly what was going to happen. His cold, metal hand soothing your cheeks.

“Only for you...”

“Count for me, or we start all over” He teases before smacking your right ass cheek. You yelped in pain, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip. “One...” you mumbled in shame.

“That’s a good girl...” he chuckled darkly as he continued to slap your ass alternating between his hands. Each one sending you over the edge, and making Bucky harder by the end of it. Your face filled with wet tears from the pain and pleasure. You just wanted Bucky inside you, better yet, you just wanted him back in your life. But, like he said, he never left. He’d never leave you.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, baby” he wiped your tears away with kisses and stroked your cheek gently. “You want me, huh? Gunna be a good girl and take my cock—“ he mocked pulling his belt off with his jeans & boxers, throwing them across the room. His cock springing up effortlessly against his stomach. Fuck, he was big. You haven’t had him in months, you almost forgot how big he was. He pulled you with him across the bed, his body hovering over yours.

“What’s my pretty girl, thinking- thinking about my cock?” He smirked, his angry, swollen tip running against your folds as his thumb swirled around your clit. You bucked your hips against him, your nails sinking into his biceps.

“We haven’t... well— it’s big and— will it still f-“

“Fit?” He completed the words for you and chuckles. “Baby, You were made for me. Of course, it still fits..” His hands began to squeeze your breasts heavily as he gave you a large hickey on your neck.

“Need you—“ you whimpered heavily and with your words Bucky sunk into you with ease. The two of you moaning in unison. Your legs wrapping around his torso, as your head falls against the pillows. God, you were so tight Bucky thought to himself. It felt painful almost but as Bucky stayed in place, the more you wanted it.

“Move”

“Shit, taking me so well-“ Bucky groaned as he started to move, his thrusts starting to pick up with speed. “We’re perfect for each other...” he said between thrusts. You mewled with each thrust, his cock pushing all the way until you could see the bludge on your bottom half. His thumb going back to flick your clit with each thrust. The overwhelming pleasure was clouding your thoughts.

“Baby... don’t stop” he smirked heavily hearing your moans and pleas, his thrusts going at a sporadic pace with the way your walls were clenching around him.

“Beg for me, princess. Be a good girl” his lips nipping your jaw and then down to your breasts as his cock swelled and twitched.

“Please, cum in me, Bucky...!”

“Who’s pussy is this, huh—?” He slapped your ass heavily again, the marks from before flaring up and you winced in pain. His hand wrapping around your throat but enough for you to speak.

“It’s all yours, Bucky!” You choked heavily. “That’s what I thought” he smirked, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders to get an even deeper angle inside you.

“Cum with me, baby... gunna fuckin lose it any minute” Bucky was right because in seconds your eyes rolled back as the immense pleasure washed over your body. Your body arching into him. Before you could even recover, Bucky was pumping in loads of white ropes within you too. He groaned, falling on top of you, his head in the crook of your neck, as he sucked on the skin. His hands following the shape of your body as he snuggled you closer to him. As you layed on the bed, glistening in sweat and cum, you tried to wrap around what just happened.

Was Bucky going to wake up and leave you again? You thought to yourself and the feelings of pleasure, and even happiness soon faded away. You started to cry and then you began to cry some more from the embarrassment of it all.

Bucky could feel it before you even started. The way you didn’t wrap you arms around him after sex. Or the kiss he’d always get on his lips after. He knew something was wrong but once he heard your sniffles beneath him, he understood everything. He hated to see his princess upset.

“Baby, you know I never meant to hurt you. I was selfish and stupid. I should’ve apologized sooner...instead I was an idiot who broke things off” He sighed heavily, rolling the two of you, so now you were laying on top of him. He stroked your hair and cupped your cheeks.

“You’re my girl, forever. I’m never leaving you— you hear me? Please don’t cry” he stroked your tears away and you smiled softly. Your smile warming him inside. His embrace giving you reassurance. He was a fool for the way he acted but he would never be a fool again, that’s for damn sure. You were his.

[mysweetgeo]

I Need You (Part 11)

Summary: Sequel Series to the Do You Want to Know a Secret ? Series. Reader accepts a job as a photographer for a band as they begin a tour mid-1966, what happens when she finds out that she knows them ?

After the last concert in Germany, specifically Hamburg, the six of you headed back to the hotel, and while Brian wanted to stay in, the five of you that remained decided to head out to the pubs to celebrate a successful concert.

You all were squished into a booth, and you were sat between George and John, and John had his arm slung around your shoulders as the two of you were gulping down pint after pint.

You were drunkenly singing a Buddy Holly tune as you swayed back and forth in the booth knocking shoulders with both George and John.

George had noticed that you and John both weren’t slowing down with the drinks so he decided he’d better, to make sure you didn’t get hurt.

You linked arms with John and gasped, a brilliant idea coming to your mind, “John! Can we have a sleepover?!” You asked, nearly shrieking.

John grinned, “Yeah! A sleepover!” He agreed enthusiastically.

George bit his lip to bite back the bitter comment that was sure to come out if he opened his mouth.

“And Geo can come too!” You said, whipping around to wrap your arms around George’s neck.

“Sure, darling,” George drawled, never having been able to say no to you.

“Yay!” You said with a giggle, holding onto George and pulling yourself so you were straddling his lap while giving him a tight hug.

George held your waist for support, obviously not complaining about you being in his lap.

Paul whined from across the booth, “What about me? Can I come?” He looked at you, begging with large puppy dog eyes.

“No!” John shrieked, suddenly speaking up.

Paul visibly pouted and whimpered, obviously upset.

You pouted your lip when you saw Paul so upset, “Of course you can Paulie,” you said with a gentle smile, moving out of George’s lap to lean across the table and hold his hand. “And you too, Ringo,” you said, reaching out for his hand as well.

While you held the other lads hands, George was holding onto your waist, not only to steady you but also just to have you in his close proximity.

Paul’s face split in a grin and he leaned across the table to plant a kiss on your lips, which you instantly recoiled from, retreating back into George’s arms.

John and Ringo watched the scene unfold, seeing how George’s arms tightened around you as you placed your hands on top of his on your stomach.

“Don’t ever do that again, Macca,” George threatened, his eyes turning black in anger.

“‘m sorry, love, I didn’t mean anything by it—“ Paul tried to explain but no one was having any of it.

Your eyes were still wide in shock as your grip on George tightened, needing to feel some source of comfort.

Sensing that this scenario wasn’t going to dissolve itself, Ringo spoke up, “I think maybe Paul and I should go back to the hotel, ‘m sure he didn’t mean any harm,” he spoke, standing from the booth and letting Paul climb out after him.

“I’m very sorry, (Y/N),” Paul whispered as he and Ringo walked away, in a voice that was barely audible.

You just nodded, not trusting your words as you watched the pair of them walk away.

“Well that sure was a mood-killer, eh?” John said with a huff, taking a large gulp from his pint, as he slid Paul’s half empty glass towards himself.

You nodded as you took a large drink from your glass, downing the remaining contents in one gulp.

George held you close to his chest, seeing as you were still somewhat startled by Paul’s actions.

You turned your head to look at George, your hand reaching up to caress his jaw, “Georgie? Can you get me another pint?” You asked in a sweet voice, which nearly caused George to burst out laughing, your romantic gesture greatly contrasting the words that came from your lips.

“Of course, darling,” he answered, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, “but I have to get up in order to do that.”

You whined contorting your body so that your top half was pressed against his chest, “No,” you whimpered, your arms wrapping around his neck as faux tears appeared in the corners of your eyes, “don’t leave me.”

“Let the lad get us a pint,” John complained from beside you, “he’ll only be gone a minute anyhow.”

You frowned at his bluntness, though you slid yourself out of George’s lap and released him from your clutches, “Okay,” you said in a very sad voice.

George’s heart ached to see you like this, even if it was something as silly as this, “I’ll be right back, princess,” he whispered, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek just before he walked away.

When George returned, he found that you were sitting across from John where Paul and Ringo had been not long ago. You had told him you moved because he was ‘annoying you’ and because he ‘smelt bad’.

George set two pints on the table, one for you and one for John, before settling into the seat beside you.

“We’re still having a sleepover, yeah?” John asked, swirling his drink around in his glass.

“Well, duh,” you deadpanned, “what else do bestfriends do.”

“Well, you and George are ‘bestfriends’ and I’m sure that you two have done the deed. So if you’re interested—“ John began but was cut off by George.

“Not gonna happen, lad,” he said in a threatening tone.

You giggled at the exchange, leaning against George’s shoulder, “We haven’t done anything, Johnny,” you said.

“Obviously, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife,” John muttered, though both of you could hear it.

You blushed and looked down, smiling softly as you felt George’s arm wrap around your shoulders.

“You two make me sick,” John said, complimented by a fake gag.

“Oh shush,” you said, grabbing your pint and taking a large gulp from it. “After I finish this, let’s go back to the hotel.”

The boys nodded in agreement, and sat in silence as you and John finished your drinks.

+

You and John had your arms intertwined as you walked the streets back to the hotel, George following closely behind.

The two of you were drunkenly singing ‘That’ll Be The Day’ as you stumbled towards your room.

“All your hugs ‘n kisses,” you slurred, gripping onto John for dear life as George ushered you both into the lift.

“And your money too!” John chirped, hiccuping as he did.

“Well,” you drawled, “y’know you love me baby.”

John sputtered out a slew of words that didn’t hardly resemble the lyrics, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles, gripping onto George’s arm to steady yourself.

The two of you continued the song, skipping into the chorus as you sang in an ear piercing unison.

You got off the lift at your floor, pulling the two boys to your door as you suddenly remembered that you didn’t know where your key was.

“I’ve got it, love,” George murmured, coming up behind you and placing a hand on your back as he slipped the key into the lock and opened the door for you.

“Oh! My hero!” You cheered, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking his cheek.

John let out a groan as he plopped himself on the bed, “You two best not fuck each other while I’m in the bed,” he said, being as blunt as humanly possible.

You rolled your eyes and detached yourself from George as you ran and launched yourself onto the bed, narrowly missing John’s body as you landed.

“Sometimes, I wish I could zip your mouth shut,” you said as you rolled over onto your back and scooted towards him.

John gasped, feigning hurt, “That is so mean! Take that back right this instant!” He shrieked.

“Never,” you said as you sleepily curled into his side, “Where’s my Georgie?” You asked, popping an eye open to look for him.

“Right here, love,” George answered, climbing into bed beside you.

You grinned and turned your body around to wrap your arms around his small frame, “Mm, I love this,” you said with a sigh of pure comfort.

George grinned and held you close to him, running his had up and down your back.

John whined, obviously jealous of the contact you and George were sharing, and crawled on top of you and George, wrapping his arm around you both and nesting his head against George’s shoulder.

George grunted at the sudden added weight, but didn’t voice any complaints as the three of you laid in silence.

You looked up at George with a drunken smile, “Hi,” you whispered.

He couldn’t help but grin at your expression, “Hi,” he replied quietly, as to not wake the beast that was now snoring and drooling on George’s shoulder.

Your breaths mixed with your close proximity, and you could only get closer to each other.

Soon your noses were pressed against one another as the two of you giggled.

Everything was funny to you in your drunken state.

Until it wasn’t.

Tears began pouring down your face and George’s smile and laughter were soon wiped away with a look of concern and worry.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asked, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“It’s my fault,” you sobbed, leaning into George’s touch.

“What’re ye talking about?” He asked again, moving so that John naturally fell off of him and behind him on the bed.

“If I’d have just come to London with you, we would be together,” you cried, tears falling in large streams down your cheeks.

“Oh, love,” George sighed, pulling you to his chest. “My dear, sweet girl,” he whispered, “none of this is your fault, we were so young, and we weren’t ready for each other.”

You continued to cry into George’s chest, “I—I just love you s—so much, Geo,” you managed through body-rattling sobs.

“I love you too, so so much,” he murmured as he ran a hand over your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Forever and ever, my darling.”

You fell asleep with your bodies intertwined, leaving no space between the two of you, and John tucked under the blankets behind George’s back.

[icyteaa]

It was no longer just an iffy feeling; it was a truly bad feeling. It was a terrible feeling, the type of feeling he would have if the God of Death would appear in his dream tonight and ask him to share a meal or something.

—Trash of the Count’s Family, Chapter 667

Note: those sentences floats in my head ever since I read it and now I couldn't resist but write this crack headcanon down. Hope I will not get caught for writing this cursed headcanon 😂

TCF CRACK HEADCANON

[Nightmare]

Cale had a bad feeling ever since he brushed his teeth and prepared to go to sleep. He had a bad feeling even when he hushes and humming the children to their dream. And after he caught up in his own sleep and found himself in an unfamiliar room in his dream, he knew something was up to him. Again.

Cale frowning while his mouth let the sound of clicking. He scanned the room that he was dreaming of. It was a room that was filled with elegant property and seemed very expensive. It is all stuff with Victorian Era style, just like his world as Cale. But instead of glittering with gold, this room was filled with luxurious black. It's like everything in the room dyed black, and even his own shirt changed to black. Cale had a scowl on his face as he could tell what had happened even if he didn't want to.

"That mother fucking bastard!" Cale cursed as he found himself sitting up in the dining table with a plate in front of him. His frown was as deep as ever when he realized that he could feel the soft seat he was sitting in. This dream felt too real and if he just never experienced these kinds of weird dreams, he would think this was real and he just moved or transported to another place without him even wanting it. Just like every time that goddamn had done every time. And Cale didn't want either of that, so he still hates this.

"You shouldn't curse like that, my child." Cale can figure out the owner of this voice right away and it makes him gritted his own teeth tightly out of anger. After all, this voice is always chiming in his head every now and then in his sleep or when he is conscious ever since the war ended a year ago. But this is the first time he can feel the dream this real. Cale breathed heavily as he tried to stay calm in this damned situation, "Just what are you trying to do this time?"

There is a sound of footsteps echoing around the room. Someone appears from the shadow that Cale presumably is the realm form of his biggest distruber that he continuously considers to seal because of these deeds it does very often. God of Death, the realm that took man form with long black hair and black outfit, smiles widely. Undaunted even if it knew the annoyed tone in Cale's voice.

"There is nothing, my child. I just want to have a meal with my child." The God of Death paused a few moments as his hand reached his chin as if it was thinking, "In your world, it's called a date, right?"

Cale can feel shiver down his spine and he finds himself having an urge to throw up. Didn't want to hear more about this disgusting topic or see that annoying look on its face. Cale tried to use his power as he shouted, "Just sent me home already, you bastard!"

But nothing happened. Cale finds himself unable to use his ancient powers. He couldn't hear them either. He glared at the man that laughed loudly as he took a seat opposite from him. "We are in your mind, and there is no one who can distribute our sweet talk here. So give up trying, my child."

Cale never felt this disgusted in his life. Not when he found almost everyone on the continent called him a Hero or Young Master Silver Shield. Not even when he saw the sparkling eyes of crazy bastard Clopeh Sekka and his rambling about legend. No. This is at a different level of disgusted. He felt really annoyed and furious. And every word that goddamn god lets out just makes it worse. And within this outrage that overwhelming him, Cale found himself couldn't understand what this god wanted. Just why is that god disturbing him so often?! Is this god didn't have anything to do except annoy him?! Now he felt frustrated as well.

As it didn't care how red Cale's face was because he held his anger, the God of Death flicked its finger and a feast filled the wide dining table. "I know you like eating, my child. Eat as much as you want."

Cale huffed and let out a very long sigh. He stared at the face that was very handsome that couldn't even be compared to the ancient dragon Eruhaben, but Cale didn't give a fuck even a little bit of it as his hand reached the plate. It was very subtle, because he tried very hard to not change his expression when an idea passed his head. Without any moment coming to waste, Cale throws the plate and any food he can reach to the god's face. "Just what do you want from me?! Let me out of this and out of my life! You disgusting goddamn bastard!"

Cale felt very angry and tired. After he shoved anything he could throw, he panted so heavily. Cale forgot when he was this emotional with a negative meaning. He was very calm and collective person after all. But this—this existence, always puts him in rage every time. It pissed out of him.

Cale stared to the front again when he heard the cuckled voice. Very unfortunately, there isn't any food or whatever he throws hurt that god form. All of it stopped with a bumped sound in the air before falling to the table as if there was a wall in front of the god. "My child, you are very spirited today. Are you feeling happy after seeing my face now? Just so you know, you are the only human I ever showed my face. So you should feel grateful because of that."

Cale hissed with very sharp eyes. He really wants to use his ability to seal this god now. "Just spit out what you want. Now. Stop talking nonsense because I never felt great or happy to hear your voice or see your face."

Now as it realized Cale had already in his limit of patience, the God of Death shook his head before standing up. It slowly walked around to approach Cale before saying, "Alright. I will say what I want now, even if I want to do it after we have a nice meal together."

Cale turning to the left where the God of Death approached him. He shut his mouth with an odd expression as he felt this wasn't going to be right. But before he could anticipate what the god did, he saw the God of Death kneeling in his way before opening a small box that suddenly appeared in his palm. "I realized I just said this to you through my other child, so I want to say this myself now. You are a very interesting child and everything you do is very fascinating to watch. I think we will be fit to work together. So Cale Henituse, will you be my Holy Maiden?"

"I WILL NEVER FUCKING ACCEPT THAT POSITION, YOU BASTARD!!" Cale breathed abruptly as he shouted until his lung felt hurt. His body was full of sweat as he finally found himself in his own bedroom and finally woke up from the biggest nightmare he had ever experienced. The children immediately woke up after hearing the shout and even everyone that had sharp ears in the villa woke up from their slumber and rushed toward the 5th floor to check his condition. Cale felt his stomach hurt and his complexion was very pale. "That goddamn bastard...." He hissed in his heavy breath.

Everyone who knew who was the existence that could bring this much rage into Cale's face turned with rage too. That god ... it still disturbed our young master even after all the crap it did to Cale? It's what they thought as the anger within them makes the atmosphere in the room very hideous and makes Cale get another shiver.

Even without Cale asking, everyone was so fired up and contacted Cage to help them so they could hunt down a certain god. While Cale had a long rest that day because he felt sick because of the nightmare.

[End]

Note:

This headcanon is very cursed and I feel bad for Cale. But yeah, I regret nothing for writing this😂

[imgucciking]

Mmmh [KAI]

Listen as you read

Pairing: Idol!Boyfriend!Kai X Fan!Reader 

Genre: Smut, Smut, Smut. After care fluff. And some fluff at the start.

Words: 2k

Warning: Masturbation! Cursing! Marking! Eating out! Penetration! Size kink! Unprotected sex! [stay safe y'all] 

A/N: My first work on tumblr, I wanted to start of with Kai.

Kai was your boyfriend, and he had been for a total of 3 years last month. You had spent the time well at home, he had even cooked some dinner for the both of you! A surprise cake was baked by him as well, in the flavour of chocoltae, your favorite [ You didn't tell him how you found a few egg shells in it]

But right now though, the pair of you were separated. You lived near the outskirts of Seoul, while the headquarters of SM, as well as Kai's house was in the middle of the busy city. Kai was busy with the preparation of his new solo, whiich he hadn't even revealed the name for to you.

He said it was super secret and it would be ruined if he revealed. You of course had pouted, and even tried some aegyo, which you never did in order to get him to tell you what the song was called, atleast. Somehow though, he never told you. On the november 25, the teaser of mmmh had been revealed. 

You had watched the video, then went straight to your bed, your phone in hand, already dialling kai. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? WHY YOU GOTTA KILL ME?" He had laughed. He fucking laughed. That. Was. It

You were so excited for today! Mmmh was finally getting released and of course you were excited! You got your big computer ready, put it on full screen, 4k quality and the volume was full on. Your phone was right beside ou incase kai decided that he was going to kill you in this mv like the teaser. 

You used the phone a lot. You called him the moment the song started, and of course, he was there, like the sweet boyfriend he was to listen to you fangirl over him, and then gasp and pretend to die when he revealed his abs. He found it very endearing that you did all this. Then, once you were done watching the mv for about the 100th time, he asked ou to always call him like this cause he found it awesome.

You blushed before replying with an ok and then cutting the call. 

It had been a month since then. You were going through the many memories you and Kai had created right now, looking through the million selfies and photos on your phone, your background music being a 10 hour version of mmmh. Bless the soul which made such an awesome repeat.

"You make me feel so mmmh hmmm~" You mouthed the words. All of a sudden, the repeat got over. You pouted to yourself, your hands reaching over to your phone to see what was going on. But suddenly, the song played again, only this time his voice sounded deeper, sexier. Your thighs automatically came closer, his deep voice doing something to your inside. 

Tentatively, you let your hand travel lower down your body, underneath jong-in's hoodie which you had on. You let out a breathy gasp as your fingers came in contact with your heat. You allowed your hands to travel the rim, but not deep in. You wanted to tease yourself. 

And oh were you doing a good job at it. You lied your body more comfortably on the bed, then spread your legs wide, your/kai's hoodie pulled up until it was bunched up underneath your neck. Your nipples had formed hard pebbles due to the cold air in the room, and your left hand was currently playing around with your left breast, twisting it around, rubbing it, and playing with your tits. 

One hand still rested comfortably within the folds of your clit, gently flicking it and pinching at the sensitive nub. One important rule of kai's was that you never played with yourself, because he wanted to be the one to please you, but the thought was long gone from your head, and besides, it wasn't like kai was coming home today, was he?

Oh how wrong could you have been.

The door clicked open loudly, as Jong-In stepped into the house. "I'm home baby!" His words, however were left to drift into the silence, as you were far too lost in the pleasure your fingers were causing you. Granted, they weren't as large as Kai's, but it did the deed and that's all you wanted. 

You were edging closer and closer to your high. "O-Oh! Kai!~" You screeched, as you finally cummed all over your fingers, the white sticky substance coating your hand. Kai heard you. And judging by the way you sounded, he also knew what you were doing right now. 

His cock twitched in his pants, like waking up from a long nap. "God Y/N..." He groaned, before pulling his shoulder back off and placing it on the table. Unbuttoning the top 2 buttons of his top, he walked into your shared bedroom. God how you lay on the bed, his hoodie all bunched up on you, your fingers still buried deep within your cunt. The tent in his pants became painful to handle as he stalked closer to you.

Your eyes were shut from how you rode out your high, your breathing heavy as you rested. Jong In edged closer to your body, before he put his lips very close to your ears. "Didn't I teach you to not touch yourself?" Your eyes shot open as you looked up at his figure hovering over your tiny self. 

His lips were curved up in a smirk. "K-Kai I-" You were cut of by him placing his finger on your lips. "Hush...." He removed his finger once he was sure you would keep quiet, his fingers now wrapped around your airpods, as he plugged one of them off your ear. "What were you listening to, baby?"

He puts one into his ear, greeted by his voice singing out. "Ahh baby.... My song?" You nod furiously, not wanting to do anything that might displease him. He let out a groan seeing you so submissive. He pulled it out, then curled his fingers round your phone which lay forgotten beside you. 

He disconnected the earphones, allowing his voice to sing out loud. "I'm going to fuck you, with my voice in the background. Is that okay babygirl?" You nod once more. His fingers curl around your neck, a tight grip. "Use your voice~" You quickly let it out. "Yes, kai!"

"Ah ah!" He tutts, his grip around your neck tightening. "What is my name?" Your eyes widen before you remember. "Yes s-sir!" He nods, before smiling, his fingers unravelling from you neck, to your hair as he gently strokes it. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" His tugs at your hair, pulling you up into a sitting position. 

"Such a good, good girl.... But you've been bad now.... Should I punish you?" Your eyes widen. "No sir! I'm s-sorry!" He smirks, before pulling the hoodie of your body entirely. He inches close to you, and you think he is about to kiss you so you pucker your lips. "Ah ah! Only good girls get kisses!" You pout, and Jong in almost wants to kiss you now.

"I'm sorry!" You say again, as you try to pull him towards you. But he, is able to resist, and he buries his face deep into your neck, gently breathing in and out your scent, his breath hitting right on your sensitive area. He knew how crazy you get when he does that.

"Sir!" You moan, your voice sounding foreign to even yourself. Kai's teeth sink into your soft unmarked skin, as he paint art on you. He was the artist, and you were the canvas, nothing you could do would get you out of this. Once he was done with the hickeys covering your neck, he stood up and went to the chest of drawers were you stored your... toys..

Kai was a bit overexcited with the usage of toys and such, so the pair of you had bought an entire cupboard to keep in the stock of your sex toys. 

He selects a black blindfold, and fuzzy cuffs. Mmmh...Your favorite.

He ties the blindfold around your eyes, and seats you up on the bed, with your hands cuffed tightly. Not too tight enough for it to hurt, but tight enough to not allow you to escape its grasp. You struggle a bit, adjusting your body, till you feel a flat muscle lick against your cunt. 

Your body goes rigid and you stop moving around. He smirks against you, and he knows you can feel him right there. He lets out a soft groan, when you start grinding yourself onto his face, but his hands go to your thighs and he quickly stops you by holding your thighs. 

You whine and whimper at the sudden hold, but he teases you by letting his tongue wander all over your heat, but not where you want it this most. "Kai!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Please!" He suddenly stops. "Ah, ah... What's my name?" "Sir!!!!!"

"Good girl, I'll award you, shall I?"

He starts lapping at your juices, sucking, pinching, and stroking at your cunt. Your eyes had rolled back so far into your sockets, that you thought it might get stuck right there. His tongue was much better at pleasing you than your fingers, and the tightening in your stomach only increased. 

"Jong In!! I'm gonna c-" His warmth suddenly leave you. You look up at him, to see him smirking at you. You whine at not being able to release. "I think you've been stretched quite enough, right Jagi?" He unlocks the handcuffs, before tying it again onto you, except this time its not against the bed.

He undresses himself quickly, and as soon as he gets his underwear off, his large member flips against his lower abdomen. Your eyes feast on his naked body, all the ripped muscles on it. You want to trace your fingers over him, but your hands are unfortunately locked. 

You groan at this fact. His hands curl around his member as he strokes it, coating it with his pre cum. Once its enough, he bends over and produres his head into your heat. You groan at the feeling, clenching him and trying to pull him. "So thirsty for my dick, babygirl? Well then, I'll give you what you want!" 

He suddenly pounds into you, thrusting hard and not even allowing you to adjust to his length and girth. "God!" You screech, the pain and pleasure mixing together to cause something totally new. Your hands tug of your blindfold, wanting to see Kai fuck you deep. 

He lifts your left leg up, and places is onto his shoulders, reaching to places within you that had never been touched. "Feel me there? Right in that pretty little stomach of yours baby?" "Oh god yes! You scream, and you know your neighbours will be able to hear you quite well. 

But Kai liked that. He liked to show them all who you belonged to.

He grunts as you clench tightly around him, nearly not allowing to thrust. You were close and he got that. He pound into you even harsher, like an animal unleashed and allowed to do whatever it wanted with your body. He reaches over to your hair, and tugs you up. 

You comply, placing your head on his chest as he continues his work. These move was all you needed for you to come, and you let your cum flow, your eyes rolling to the back of your socket and all you can see for awhile is white. 

He continues pounding into you, chasing his own high. You, being hypersensitive clench tightly around him. This pulled him over the edge, and he cummed into you, releasing his load well. 

He lied next to you, both of you panting and sweaty. His cum flows a bit out of you, wetting the bed below. "That was-" Kai smiles at you. "I love you, Jagi" 

You grin, feeling a bit sleepy. "I love you too baby"