#got a minor burn on my thumb and had to deal with So Much hot food... mentioned i hadn't burned off all the nerves in my fingers yet

[ioannemos]

boss said i did well at work today again. since it was the eighth straight day of working after weeks of working three days at most and i spent it 99% of it on the line where i Did Not Want To Be, this compliment was a little hard to internalize

[paimon-rambles]

You breakdown in front of him

Characters; Xiao, Childe, Kaeya

Notes: I did these slighty different from how I normally do my hcs. These kinda got long (´ヘ｀()

It was interesting to experiment around with it and I'm kinda proud with how it turned out :)

Theres a blurb at the end of each one~!

-

- Xiao

You were missing him dearly

You were aware that Xiao would be leaving the inn for a while to deal with some Adepti duties. Before he left, he made you a promise that he'll return soon. What you weren't aware of was that soon wasn't going to be that soon

Weeks and a few more passed and you found yourself exploring the inn all by yourself, going to sleep by yourself and waking up to no one. It felt utterly lonely. Not to mention the stress that continued to build up within your system with worry for your boyfriend 

Thankfully Verr was there to keep you reassured that Xiao was alright which eased you a bit but didn't fill that empty void. It was until one day you learned that he was returning the very next day-! You swore you were going to cry at that very moment, but alas you kept yourself composed and thanked Verr for the information.

The day came to a close and tomorrow became today. When you awoke, you kinda forgot about Xiao returning on that very day due to your sleepy state. 

But you weren't ready for the surprise that would reveal itself the moment you opened your tired eyes. 

There he was, standing in your room as he had just entered. His attention was fixed on something else, not noticing you had just woken. In the seconds that followed your drowsiness was gone in a snap and you were engulfed by crushing emotions at once. All the stress that had taken refuge within your troubled mind released 

" Xiao!"

The call of his name caught the Adeptus off guard, bringing his attention back to the formerly sleeping figure. What he did not expect to see, however, was to see his lovers gaze distort into a sob as a choked cry left their lips

Before you could stop yourself, crystal-like tears poured from your eyes, dripping down your cheeks like rain before planting onto your shirt or blanket. You couldn't stop it, more uncontrollably sobs escaped you and soon the room was echoing in your cries

In an instant, he was rendered confused and panicked simultaneously. He doesn't know what to do either, personal comfort wasn't one of his specialties 

" Y/n, why are you crying? You can tell me"

He nudges his face closer to you in a feeble attempt to calm you down. In his head, he's already speculating that you were hurt or someone hurt you. In which case he's ready to beat them up

" Did someone hurt you? What's bothering you?"

But those thoughts quickly disappear as you wrap your arms around him. Your face was pressed against his chest, you were growing increasingly shaky. A muttered sentence escaped your lips that caused the Adepti to feel an odd clenching feeling in his chest

" I- I just really miss you, Xiao! You were gone for so long, I got so worried. I'm sorry" 

Why are you apologizing? Is the first thought that runs through his mind. On the outside, he's kinda just standing there as you sob but on the inside, it's a wild goose run. He's in a panic. 

Xiao dislikes seeing you unhappy let alone crying, his favorite aspect of you is when you're happy. Such as your face. He loves seeing your features when you're happy. Your smile, eyes, and how they crinkle when you laugh. Seeing that aspect of you be morphed into a teary gaze causes his heart to drop. He tries all he can think of to make you feel better

Suddenly you feel a pair of firm arms embrace you. 

" I'm here now. I won't leave you. I'll always be at your side through everything. Nothing can tear me away from you"

His hand is trying to comfort you by running his fingers through your h/c curls. A soothing little gesture he wishes could help make you feel better. His lips find their way to kiss you on the crown of your head.

Slowly your tears come to a stop, your face snuggling closer to him. His little attempts at soothing had done its magic. You felt your eyes closed as waves of exhaustion started to hit you again. Before you went unconscious you mumbled; 

"Thank you"

Xiao starts to have a warm feeling pulsing in his chest, as you clung to him like a koala with the words you said previously ringing in his head. It was a curious feeling. 

As he rested you down on the bed, placing the blanket over your form,  he leaned over to press his lips to your head.

 After you awake from your second slumber, Xiao is sure to stick by your side for the remainder of the day and the one following it

The next time you have a breakdown, he's sticking by your side no matter what. He helps dry your tears off and assures you that everything is going to be okay. He spends the rest of the time distracting you from it. Reminding you that you're strong and you will get through it.

" You're strong y/n, I know you'll get through this and I'll be there with you every step."

He promised to stick by your side through it all and he's not breaking it.

 Xiao stumbled backward as your figure latched to him. He was rendered confused, as he struggled to comprehend the last few minutes that passed. He had just returned from a hefty mission and was greeted by the sight of his lover sobbing as their eyes landed on him.

 Your arms were wrapped around him tightly as if you were afraid something was going to take him away again. 

Hot uncontrollably tears continue to pour from your face, your features already puffing up from it, but that was the least of your concerns. Your focus at hand was your boyfriend. How long has it been since you last saw him? You lost count. But here he was now.

Words spilled out of your lips sheepishly,  shakey forms of letters connecting to create a skewered sentence. 

" I miss you so much, Xiao." The words choked out and your throat hitch as breathing became a struggle. 

A pair of arms went to cradle you, it caught you off guard as you gasped. You felt a forehead lean against yours. The simple act almost spurred on more tears, he was really there.

"  I'm here now, I won't leave you. I'll always be at your side through everything. Nothing can tear me away from you." He pressed a kiss to your forehead sealing his promise to you.

- Childe

It was an argument

You finish early with your commissions and head home to start dinner for you and your boyfriend. He told he had a lot of busy work today before he kissed you goodbye and so thought it be a nice surprise for your boyfriend to come to some dinner

The clock ticked down as night approached by the hour. You quickly finished cooking the meal and placed it at the table. The familiar sound of the door opening met your ears and you quickly went to greet your boyfriend 

You were expecting to see your boyfriend's signature smile as he greets you. But- what you weren't ready for were the sharp eyes and irritated gaze pasted to his face. You swore his eye twitched the moment you came into his view. It was as if he was upset with you

No doubt about it, it was a long, tiring, and frustrating day at work. 

You tried to greet him but you could tell he was a ticking time bomb, at any moment he would snap. You decided to keep quiet, minus the minor greetings and lay out his dinner for him. Childe said nothing in turn.

You went to grab a glass to pour him some water, but just as you went to grab the cup, your ankle gave in causing you to lose your footing momentarily. You didn't fall thankfully and got back on your feet. The same can't be said for the glass cup, it collided with the ground smashing in pieces. 

That was enough to tick him off

He snapped out. Scolding you for being careless and for making a mess he'll have to clean up adding to the pile of work he already needs to stress about. He didn't hide his sharp words, each one puckered into your brain

Your feet were frozen in place. Your legs become wobbly as the room grew fuzzy. You could feel your chest growing tight as you struggled to take breaths of oxygen. 

Then the tears

Childe instantly stopped the moment he saw the tears. he knew immediately that he went too far and he shouldn't have even snapped in the first place

Burning tears were falling down your face, splashing to the floor

And the guilt came crashing down on the Fatui Harbinger like Zhongli just dropped a boulder on him

" Y/n- I'm sorry I shouldn't have yelled. Please don't cry."

He would hesitate whether he should approach you or not. He wants nothing more than to pull you into a hug and apologize repeatedly 

More tears were running down your cheeks, your hands crept up in a feeble attempt to cover your face from him. 

" I'm sorry" you choked out full heartily believing this was your fault. 

" Y/n, it's not your fault. Love, please look at me, I didn't mean what I said- I promise. Please stop crying."

Those words were successful at soothing your sobs but they didn't stop your shaky legs from wobbling so much. You felt yourself losing your footing once more and you fell to your knees

In an instant Childe was by your side, his arms going to hold you cup your cheeks, using his thumb to wipe the tears off your face. Almost by instinct, your arms went to hug him, you pressed your head against his chest your breathing  becoming heavy in an attempt to stop your aggressive sniffling 

Childe whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his hand rubbing circles on your back. His lips are glued to your forehead. He has so much guilt and internally he's scolding himself. 

His heart clenches whenever he hears your sniffle

" Everything is going to be okay, I promise you. I'll clean up the mess, don't worry about it, love."

After more of his sweet nothings,  your sniffles die away, and you're left with in a tired and exhausted state

Childe helps clean up your face, his touches incredibly gentle as if you were made out of porcelain; softly caressing your cheeks while wiping the rest of your tears away with care 

He carries you to your shared bedroom where he lays you down and allows you to get your rest. In the meanwhile, he's going to be punching himself all over, regretting his actions. Your scared expression is burned in his brain and he grimaces as he remembers how he acted. He swears to himself to never act out like that again

The following day you'll wake up to your boyfriend pampering you beyond no end. He takes you to fancy dinner, on a nice stroll. He pulls out all the cards hoping you'll forgive him

Whenever you have a breakdown Childe is there to spice up your day. He promises you that everything will be alright and that things will get better. Followed by many kisses and hugs that help soothe you back to your happy self

" Everything will be okay in the end, just you wait. I'm always here to help you every step of the way. Now please stop crying love, it hides your beautiful smile."

He loves your smile, and he'll fight anyone who threatens to take that away. including himself

What even coaxed this argument in the first again? 

The question lingered in the Harbinger's head. He was mentally fighting himself over it. So much guilt swirled within him as he replayed the scene that unfolded moments before. It was a simple mistake on your part, but the way Childe acted, he doubts he'll ever forgive himself for it.

 He held onto the shaking feeble body of his lover. Their head was towards the ground, hiding their face from Childe but he could already envision your scared expression; tears rolling down your puffy face as you struggled to take a single intake of breath. Your throat was throbbing from sobbing uncontrollably and the sniffles and hiccups that followed after. 

The ginger gently cupped your cheek, bringing your face towards him. His heart dropped seeing your glossy e/c eyes. " Love, please look at me, I didn't mean what I said, I promise. Please stop crying." His finger cradled your tears, wiping your face slowly whilst his other hand drew shapes on your back. 

You leaned closer to his hand, the little gestures soothing you quite a bit. A few more tears and hiccups escaped from you, the last of your crying coming to an end. Childe felt his chest clench as the corners of your lips curled slightly.

" Let's get you cleaned up."

- Kaeya

You had a nightmare

It was getting late and you had just finished eating dinner. Your day was filled with commissions that easily left you exhausted. All you want to do now is to collapse into your bed and rest. 

Your boyfriend was caught up with some commissions, promising to be home soon. Usually, you'd wait until your boyfriend comes home, but your eyes were dropping uncontrollably. And you swore if you didn't do something soon you'll pass out right there.  

And so you left some extra dinner in case Kaeya came home hungry and you set off to prepare for bed. 

The moment your head hits the pillow it lights out. 

It felt like hours had passed, your brain was fuzzy and unable to comprehend what was happening. You were shifting in your sleep, your face morphing into one of discomfort. It was clear you were in distress. 

Suddenly, you jolted awake. Your breathing was heavy as panting, you could feel your heart racing against your chest. Sweat was rolling down your forehead, and you felt your chest tighten with each passing second. No doubt you were having a nightmare. A very livid one at that

You hadn't even realized that tears rolled down your face until you went to rub your eyes. You were crying. As more seconds passed more of your panic started to rise.

A choked sob left your lips as you struggled to keep quiet, your boyfriend was still asleep beside you. 

 In an attempt to not wake Kaeya, you went to leave to another room where you could sob to yourself but as you went to get up you felt something grab your shoulder. 

" Y/n, are you alright? Why are you crying, love?" Kaeya's tired voice muttered.

 Internally you scolded yourself for waking him. 

" Uh, I just need some fresh air." You semi lied

Kaeya saw right through that, and in an instant, he pulled you into a hug, and suddenly you found yourself sobbing into his shoulder. Uncontrollably tears pouring from your face, dripping down and soaking his nightshirt. 

In an instant, Kaeya was trying to soothe you. A comforting hand was drawing shapes on your back, whilst the other was running through your hair very gently

" It's alright, cry it out. Everything will be okay." He whispered into your ear.

More sweet nothings followed, slowly calming you down again. Less and fewer tears fell from your glossy eyes and drowned into sniffling as the last of your crying came to an end

You snuggled closer to his chest, listening to his heardrowneas it lulled you to a calmer state. Soon you were returning to your natural self, your shakiness ceasing.

" I promise everything is going to be alright. I'm right here love, I'm not going anywhere."

You stayed like that for a while until eventually, you fell asleep in his arms. You didn't have any more nightmares 

In the morning he's gonna be very affectionate and cuddly,  lots of butterfly kisses, and hugs. They're coming and you can't stop them

Whenever you have a breakdown, Kaeya is quick to act, he doesn't tease instead he reassures you that everything is going to be alright. (internally he's in a panic, unsure what to do when his partner is crying) He makes sure you take breaks throughout the day and enough rest. 

" It's okay to take breaks y/n. You're strong, you'll get through, I just know it."

Another boy who loves your smile, please smile for him

Sobs and sniffles escaped your lips becoming muffled by the fabric of Kaeya's shirt. Tears dripped down your puffy and red flushed face, rolling down and staining both his and your own nightclothes.

It was a nightmare that caused this. It was still fresh in your mind, every little detail prominent and defined. You squeezed your eyes shut, snuggling your face closer to his chest trying to shut it out. In an instant Kaeya arms tighten around you in an embrace. 

His lips rested near your ear, sweet nothings rolling off his tongue with each sob you cried. It was comforting. His voice slowly pulled you into a calm state and with each word of affection, the less you cried.

" It's alright, cry it out. Everything will be okay." He whispered. His hand continued to draw shapes and lines on your back, his other gently cradling your head against his shoulder. 

Your shakey form slowly ceased and the sound of your sniffles died away until it was just your breathing that was heard. 

A sweep of drowsiness washed over you, your eyes growing heavy. 

Kaeya laid you down and placed the blanket over your form before leaning to press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

" Good night <3"

[arvinsescape]

Choices.

A/N: Another Mob!Tom fic, a longer one. It’s another darker one and I hope you all enjoy! Do not engage if the topics make you uncomfortable 💕 (side note: I managed to get switch!Tom in there).

Summary: You become the product of someone’s torture and now you have to decide what you want.

Warnings: Smut (oral, f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe), Violence, blood, injuries, bruises, language, misogynistic views. Minors do not engage. I think I got everything, possibly a few typos.

W/C: 8K.

The sound of skin-on-skin contact resonated through the halls, the sting in your cheek burning as Caleb shook the sting from his own hand.

“What did he do with my shipment?” Caleb hissed as he crouched down so he was eye level with you.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, when he finds out what you’ve done, he’s gonna kill you.” You said, probably a stupid thing to say as it earned you yet another smack to your already bruised cheek.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’re tougher than you look. Shame you think you’re worth more to him, he’s known for the last twelve hours I’ve had you and he’s done nothing.” Caleb laughed as he stood to full height.

“Bullshit.” You hissed and Caleb laughed.

“Oh come on, you don’t think men like us put women above our businesses do you? More women like you will come along, more cunts to keep our cocks warm. Let’s be real, that’s really all you are and ever will be to him.” He laughed and you winced at the harshness, maybe he was right. He wasn’t here, wasn’t here to help you.

“Now,” he announced as he made his way over to a table, taking a hammer off it. “I’ve quite frankly grown bored. Tell me what he did with the shipment, tell me where it is.” He said, he was yet again in front of you. He’d taken your hand in his and if your wrist wasn’t roped down to the chair you’d have slapped him.

“You have quite dainty little fingers.” He said as he stroked over them. “Shame I’m going to have to break a few.” He said and you felt defeated, utterly defeated.

“I don’t know what he did.” You answered in a breathy whisper. “He doesn’t get me involved.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, you knew he’d stolen the shipment just not how.

“Given up? I would to, must be disappointing.” He laughed again as he crouched down to your level, stroking your sweaty hair out of your face, running a thumb harshly over the bruise on your cheek. “Maybe he hasn’t even noticed you’ve gone, that spot you occupy in his bed probably isn’t cold, already filled.” He taunted and you felt the tears fall.

“Just let me go. I can’t help you.” You said, your heart was broken. He knew you were here, and he’d done nothing. Maybe it was all bullshit, maybe he didn’t love you like he said he did.

“But we’re having so much fun.” He said as he stood up again. “I know you know something, you must, you sauntered around that mansion enough.”

“I don’t.” You said, completely defeated now.

“Tell you what, you can serve as a lesson, I’ll give you back to him. Since you can’t help and show him what happens to his stuff when he messes with mine.” He said and you succumbed to the tears.

**

Tom was panicking he’d not seen you all day, you’d gone out for lunch and now he couldn’t get a hold of you. His mind was racing, he’d sent all of his staff out to find you and no such luck, it was like you’d disappeared into thin air. He was pacing his office, running a hand through his hair when he heard it. Three loud knocks to his mansion’s door. He hastily made his way downstairs, Harrison in tow.

As soon as he opened the door, a body collided with his own. He only just caught it in time, the body almost limp in his arms. It took his brain a moment to catch up as he realised just who it was that had been thrust into chest.

“Caleb sends his regards.” A man laughed and Tom felt frozen. How had this happened? Not you, not his precious princess. Tom watched as the man disappeared, Harrison giving chase.

It was your small fist on your right hand that grasped his shirt that brought him back to reality, he picked you up, one arm around your back, the other in the crook of your knees as you winced in pain.

“I’m sorry princess.” He mumbled as he took in your features, you looked so tired, bruised cheek. Tom felt his anger rise, Caleb should count his days lucky because when Tom found him it would be the last day he spent on Earth. He took you into your shared room, placing you carefully on the bed as he took in the rest of you. The outfit you’d worn that day was dirty but still intact, your wrists were raw, evidence of the rope that had tied them down, the same with your ankles.

You had bruises almost everywhere, face tear stained. You were half awake, weak as you fluttered your eyes occasionally before closing them again. Tom sat with you on the bed for a while, thinking about his next move, of all the ways he was going to torture Caleb for doing this to you. He heard commotion downstairs and knew Harrison had caught whoever had brought you back to him.

Tom didn’t leave you, he knew Harrison would take over, bring the men back and make sure whoever he’d caught was dealt with until Tom could deal with it. Harrison was his right-hand man, one of his most trusted advisors. Tom looked down at you, moving stray strands of hair from your face, he almost cried at the sight.

He kept a hand on your chest, evidence you were alive. He brought his lips to your forehead as he kissed it, a tear making its way down his cheek. You didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t protect you, he failed at the one thing he’d promised to himself. It wasn’t long before your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

You took in Tom as you opened your eyes, he looked tired, upset as he held a hand to your chest, hair a mess and those brown eyes had seemingly lost their usual spark. You looked at him, no energy to speak. He’d left you, didn’t come for you when you wanted him to, you briefly remember begging for him, pieces of the beating you’d taken coming back in flashes. You’d lost consciousness through parts, the pain too much.

“Hey Princess.” He breathed out, voice soft, quiet. It almost sounded like there was an ounce of care in there, but you must be delusional. You just looked at him and he sighed before disappearing. You didn’t really wonder where he’d gone, what he was doing, you were thinking about how to get yourself home, away from this and away from him.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you again, you were too tired to fight with him as he took you to the bathroom, stripped you of your clothes and put you into the bath. The first bath you had was to get rid of the dirt, Tom ever so carefully washing your body and hair, it almost had you fooled into thinking he cared. He’d fooled you for almost two years now though.

He almost cried again as he took in the bruising that was all over your body, he took your left hand into his own and you winced, almost crying out in pain. He studied your hand, as if in some sort of mocking he took in the bruising of your left finger, the one he intended to place a ring on. He could tell just by looking at it that it was broken. He whispered out an apology, he needed to call his personal doctor to come and see you.

He lifted you again, carefully, before running a second bath, placing you in there, probably hoping the hot water would relax your tired muscles. It was silent, the only sounds being your winces, Tom’s quiet apologies and his soft kisses to your skin. Tom was the first to properly break the silence.

“I’m so sorry princess.” He said softly and you wondered how this man, your Tom could have left you like that, left you to die for all he knew. You didn’t speak, too tired for an argument with him. He sighed as he sat with you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you got lost in your own thoughts.

Your gut was telling you it couldn’t be true, your Tom wouldn’t have left you like that, he’d have come for you if he’d known but your head was full of the things Caleb had said. Full of the doubt he’d put there, the doubt that Tom loved you at all, that he felt anything for you. You felt more tears slip down your cheek as you hastily and angrily tried to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Tom said as he lowered himself to take you into his arms. Your good but wet hand fisting the dry fabric of his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here.” He repeated as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m gonna take you to bed okay? I won’t leave you, not tonight.” But he already had hadn’t he? He’d left you with Caleb, maybe you were just a good fuck, and he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone else now that you were back.

He lifted you for the last time out of the bath, draining it as he stood you on your feet, wrapping a towel around your fragile frame. Rubbing his hands along your arms in an attempt to help you dry off. You didn’t fight him as he placed a shirt, his shirt, over your head, helping you get into bed. Everything about him was so soft in this moment, so gentle, it made it hard to believe what he’d done tonight or on the contrary, what he’d not done.

Tom’s doctor came and left, securing your finger, whatever he said to Tom was drowned out by your own thoughts. You tuned back in to hear the doctor say that your bruises were okay, you were going to be okay. But that was lie, you weren’t okay, far from it, not emotionally at least.

You fell asleep that night, hand fisted into his shirt, it was keeping you grounded, reminding you that you were here, with Tom, in his room, not back there. It was a reminder you weren’t dreaming. Tom held you until you fell asleep, coaxing your not broken fingered hand to interlace with his own, you knew you were probably grasping his hand too tight, but you needed to keep yourself anchored, stop yourself falling apart. You were tired and in no mood to fight and being here with Tom was a far better alternative than being back there with Caleb.

Tom was drifting into his own sleep when your scream jolted him awake, probably woke the whole mansion. Your body suddenly moving from his own as you became completely unsettled, face contorting in pain. Tom was quick to move as he tried to wake you, dodging your flailing arms, he took them in his hands, careful of your finger, pinning them above your head.

“Princess, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Tom, it’s just me. You’re safe.” He repeated as he watched your eyes snap open and meet his, he was shocked to see the rage in them.

“Get off me.” You screamed at him, and he did, instantly, releasing you from his hold as he sat up, you sitting up onto your knees as you looked at him.

“Princess, it’s okay, calm down.” He reassured as he carefully went to take your hand in his, you slapped it away and stood up off the bed.

“Stay away from me, Tom. I want to go home.” You snapped and he stood from the bed as well. He heard a knock at the door, ignoring it.

“Baby, you are home.” Tom was utterly confused at your turn towards him, you looked so angry, so hurt with him and he couldn’t understand it. He’d spent all day looking for you, used every resource he had to try. He made his way towards you again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

He watched as you cried again, falling into his chest, you were tired, confused, that much he could tell. Like you were fighting an internal battle with yourself, one he knew nothing about, and it was frightening him, your sudden anger towards him setting him on edge. He heard a knock on his door again and bit back his anger, for your sake.

“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it in the morning.” Tom snapped, hands moving to cover your ears as not to startle you. You suddenly moved, ripping yourself from his grip as you looked at him wildly.

“You left me.” You said and Tom looked confused, he felt confused.

“What, princess, I don’t know what you mean.” He said calmly.

“Bullshit. You left me and you know you did. Why is it you keep me around? A good fuck? The minute my life is in danger, you do nothing. You really had me fooled.” You ranted as you paced the room and Tom felt more confused than he ever had in his life. Left you? He would never, had he known where you were, he’d have come straight for you.

“I didn’t leave you princess, I promise. You know me, I love you. You know I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe.” He said as he carefully approached your figure, stopping your pacing and forcing you to look at him, tears streaming down your beautiful face again. You looked at him almost desperately, like you wanted to believe what he was saying but couldn’t.

“I, Tom. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I don’t want to believe that you left me, but you did. How do I know that what you’re saying isn’t bullshit?” You spoke, voice broken, and Tom almost cried again.

“If I’d have known where you were, I’d have come for you. You know me, Y/N, you know me.” He said sincerely.

“I want to believe you but I can’t. Caleb said-“

“Whatever he said was bullshit, baby, you know me. You know I’d move the world for you.” He said as he stroked your hair.

“I need to get away.” You spoke and you looked at him, you were begging him not to argue with you. “I need to think.” You said and it was so desperate that Tom couldn’t deny you, you needed it and he’d give it to you.

“Okay baby, I’ll let you go. Wherever you want, but tonight please just stay here and I’ll take you where you want to go tomorrow.” He pleaded and he watched you fight an internal battle with yourself, he knew what you were thinking. He knew you were thinking that if you spent the night in bed with him, you were scared you’d wake up tomorrow and all will be forgiven. Tom’s heart tore in two as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ll sleep next door. If you need anything that’s where I’ll be.” He said as he kissed your forehead and made his way out of the room.

It was 5 o clock in the morning when the door opened in one of his spare rooms, a body colliding with his own as it clung to him. He didn’t fight you when you climbed on top of him, wrapping yourself in him. His heart hammered in his chest, he was conflicted, you’d just asked, begged, for space and here you were making sure there wasn’t an inch of it.

You were on top of him, trying to pull his arms closer around you and he didn’t fight, not when he heard the small sigh leave your lips. He was careful not to hurt you as he placed his arms around your trembling figure on top of him.

“I just, I can’t. I need to feel safe.” You cracked voice reached his ears. He was conflicted, he knew this would have you feeling differently in the morning, but he couldn’t forget the pleading look in your eyes when you told him you needed space. He’d let you have this, give you what you needed tonight but tomorrow he had to let you go. As much as it would rip his heart out he had to let you go.

He held you, carefully as your breathing evened out in the crook of his neck. He was used to you wanting his touch but never like this, not this much. It was almost like you wanted to get inside him, wrap yourself completely in him, like you couldn’t get close enough. He did his best, did his best to make you feel covered and only when he heard your soft snores did he know that he’d been successful at making you feel safe.

“I love you so much.” He said as he held you and let his own tears fall.

**

He woke up and felt no weight on top of him, you’d moved. He thought you’d be downstairs and was shocked to see you sat cross legged on the bed next to him.

“I’m sorry about last night.” You said.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, what?

“I just, I couldn’t sleep without you.” You clarified and he nodded as he studied you carefully. He knew what was about to come, knew he needed to be a better man than he’d ever been in his life, for you. “I was thinking,” you started as you cleared your throat, although it did nothing for the croakiness of it. “Maybe we should talk.” You offered and his heart shattered, last night you were scared of it happening and it had.

He sat up as he rubbed his hands down his face, collecting himself because this was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He just couldn’t forget that begging in your eyes. The way you pleaded with him to let you go and in his mind this was the right thing to do. Be the man you’d begged him to be last night.

“You’re mind was pretty made-up last night.” He grumbled and he didn’t miss the way your eyes melted at his morning voice.

“I’ve had a chance to sleep.” You ran your uninjured hand through your hair as you shrugged.

“Y/N,” He hated using your name, he hardly ever used it but pet names? Not right now. “With me.” He continued and you furrowed your brows.

“So?” You huffed back.

“You begged me to let you leave last night.”

“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t sleep without you.” You said.

“Don’t do this to yourself, last night you wanted, no needed to leave, you told me so.”

“I was confused. Tommy,” that fucking nickname. “We can talk it out and I can stay here.” You were making this hard.

“I can’t. Y/N, you need let me do the right thing here, the right thing for you.”

“So you just want to leave me again?” You huffed out, anger rising on your ever beautiful features.

“Again? I told you last night that’s not what happened.” His voice still soft. “You need to clear your head and you and I both know you won’t do that when I’m here.” He reasoned, he knew you had to find a way to process this, and he knew what would happen if he let you stay.

He’d done his own thinking last night and he knew if he let you stay, if you allowed yourself to just get wrapped up in him instead of process what had happened to you and the cause of it, the cause being his lifestyle. He couldn’t do that to you, he needed to let you think even if that meant letting you go forever. He was ripping his heart out here and the look on your face was stomping it hard into the floor.

“But I don’t understand.” You whispered as you let a tear fall, Tom was quick to move and wipe it away, you caught his hand and brought it between your own.

“You will, you need to process this, need to think about what you really want. If you weren’t with me this never would have happened.” He said and you let out a choked sob, you knew he was right.

**

He’d moved you into a flat, well Harrison had moved your things in, Tom knew if he did it he’d become selfish and let you come home. Tom made sure it was secure, bought it in your name so you wouldn’t be attached forever if you decided to leave, it would be yours. He kept it safe but he stayed away, you’d been gone a week when you first called and out of instinct he answered.

“Tommy?” You sniffled down the line and he knew a nightmare had just woken you up.

“Y/N, this isn’t a good idea.” He warned softly.

“I know, I didn’t call you any of the other nights, but I just need to sleep.” You said and he sighed, running a hand over his face.

“What do you need?” He asked and he hoped you wouldn’t say what he thought you were going to, that would make it harder on both of you.

“Can you, I know you won’t come here and I can’t come there, can you just talk to me? Please?” You asked in a whisper and Tom couldn’t refuse.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He asked and he heard you sigh down the line.

“I don’t know, just anything.” You said and he heard you shuffle around presumably to get more comfortable.

**

That was the first of many phone calls, the two of them indulging themselves late at night when neither could sleep. Tom never called you, you always called him. He was becoming conflicted, he probably shouldn’t be doing this but he was too selfish.

“Tom?” You said and he knew that voice, already feeling blood rush downstairs. It’d been a while since he’d had any sort of relief.

“Y/N/N.” Tom groaned and he heard you giggle slightly, in that seductive way that could get him going at the most inconvenient times and you knew it. Yeah you were definitely horny and this wasn’t a call to help you sleep.

“Tom, I need you.” You panted down the phone at him and he threw his head back into his pillow.

“Y/N, no.” Tom said, firm tone and he heard you shuffle around and hoped to god you weren’t gonna start doing what he knew you were probably thinking. If he heard you moan that would be it, he’d drive over and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Come on, Tom don’t be a killjoy. You always want me.” You said and he heard you shuffle again.

“This isn’t a good idea.” He said, cursing himself for growing hard.

“Come on Tom, we’ve done it before.” You said and then he heard it, your little whimper that meant you’d probably touched your clit.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. He couldn’t let this escalate as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He heard you huff. “Please don’t.” He said.

“You don’t want to hear me take care of myself?” You tried again, a moan slipping down the phone.

“No.” Yes.

“Fine.” He heard you huff in defeat.

“We need to stop these phone calls, they’re not doing you any good.” He spoke, voice firmer than he thought it would be to say his dick was currently straining in his boxers.

“I don’t want to, I won’t, I’m sorry.” You stumbled over yourself.

“It’s not just about calling me for phone sex, it’s all of it, it’s not a good idea.” He said, he’d never gone soft as fast in his life, the atmosphere had changed massively. “Y/N/N,” he sighed. “I want you to stop calling me, until your head is clear I want you to stop calling me.” He said, voice soft and he heard your sharp intake of breath.

“Okay.” He heard you say after a while before you hung up.

**

That was two months ago, he knew you were okay, of course he did but he had had zero contact with you. You were slowly processing what had happened to you, thinking about what you wanted. No matter how many times you thought to yourself that Tom’s lifestyle wasn’t the reason you’d been practically tortured a bruise would remind you that if you weren’t with him it wouldn’t have happened.

It wasn’t until you went to bed that you realised how much you wanted him even if it wasn’t a good idea. He made you happier than anyone ever had, he cared, fuck did he care. He always wanted the best for you, you wanted to be angry at him for doing what he did but you couldn’t. Every time you took a branch of that anger it led you back to the same trunk, the same reason, he’d done it for you, been the better man for you.

Tom was a selfish man everyone knew that, if he wanted something it was his but with you? He couldn’t, he never had been. It made you realise that Caleb was wrong, he had to be, Tom hadn’t behaved like a man who used you to keep his dick wet. There was no way he could have faked that for so long. He was always faithful, not like half the men that rivalled him, he just wouldn’t do that to you.

You love him, that much is clear to you, the way he makes you feel and looks after you is something you know you’ll never have again and ultimately it’s what made your decision. Although you knew that what happened before could potentially happen again, you found yourself unable to care, Tom was it for you. You had to follow your heart, it couldn’t take the pain of being away from him but it didn’t mean you’d turn as much of a blind eye anymore.

You knew who the man was, who you wanted to be with, you wouldn’t be the naive girlfriend anymore, the one who pretended none of it happened. You had to take some responsibility yourself, toughen up, if you were going to be with him, you needed to toughen up and wake the fuck up. Realise how dangerous his world can be and if you were going to make yourself a part of that then you had to make some changes.

As long as you could have him the way you loved him behind closed doors then it was a risk you were willing to take. You couldn’t stop yourself as you brought up the contact you’d not used in two months.

**

In the two months since Tom had asked you to stop calling him he’d still not managed to find Caleb. Every lead was a dead end. He missed you. Missed everything about you, he took solace in the fact that he knew you were safe and probably healing. He found himself wishing you would call and he’d gotten so drunk one night that Harrison had had to take his phone from his hand to stop him calling you.

He lost hope daily that you were going to call him, that you were going to show up and realised you’d probably done the smart thing and decided not to have anything to do with him. It hurt him, truly it did but was he to do? Make you stay? He knew if he’d let you stay another couple of nights in his bed then you’d just consume yourself with him and not think about what you wanted.

His phone made him jump when it rang, he wasn’t used to this anymore, wasn’t used to seeing your contact pop up, not over the last two months. He almost declined the call until he thought about why you might be calling, you’d made no attempt to contact him in all this time, maybe you were ready to talk, maybe you’d cleared your head. His thumb swiped at the green button as he put it to his ear.

“Can you come over?” That was all he got, no explanation, nothing.

**

His fist banged on the door, you knew it was him, you knew immediately. You knew him like the back of your hand. You opened it and couldn’t help the small gasp that left your lips, was he trying to drive you insane? Those dress pants, white shirt tucked into his pants, rolled up sleeves? Fuck, he always looked like he was formed by the gods themselves.

“Hi darling.” He spoke and you couldn’t stop yourself as you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. It was nice to feel him hug you back, be back in those arms that did nothing but make you feel safe, at home.

“Hi.” You whispered as you pulled back and pulled him into your flat, he was yet to see it.

“Why the late-night call?” He asked.

“I wanted to see you.” You shrugged, licking your lips that had become dry just from looking at him. “I miss you.” You spoke honestly.

“I miss you too.” He said back so easily, no time to think about the words.

The atmosphere in the room felt thick, thick with tension, the last time you’d spoken to him you’d wanted him to help get yourself off and you grew aroused at the thought. Your fingers just didn’t quite cut it, nor did the vibrator. Nothing would feel as good as having Tom wedged between your legs as he fucked into you.

He looked at you like he was thinking the same thing, he’d always said his hand wasn’t as satisfying as your wet heat. You grew hotter the more you thought about it, the more you thought about him getting himself off to the memories of the two of you fucking, just like you’d been doing. He watched your every move ever so carefully, your bruising was now all healed, finger free from its bandages.

You looked like you again but you had a shine to you that Tom liked, you looked happier, almost healthier. Like you’d been properly taking care of yourself and he smiled, it was good too see you happy after his last memory of you. He cleared his throat after a moment and spoke.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not right now.” You answered as you approached him. “I did, but I don’t, not right now.” You rambled out as your mind became clouded with lust, it’d been so long since you’d had him, you’d not had anyone else, why would you? They wouldn’t give it to you like Tom would.

“Is this a good idea?” He asked quietly as he studied you, you didn’t say anything as you leant up to kiss him, tenderly, far more tender than you’d initially thought you were going to. You both sighed at the contact, you wanted him. He studied you for a moment, looking for a sign of regret and when he didn’t find it he captured your lips again.

This time a little more forcefully, but not by much. You kissed tenderly, carefully, almost like you were remembering each other, basking in the way one another felt against them again. You pushed your lips more forcefully against his and he groaned slightly as your hands weaved into his hair. It was still careful, neither wanting to overwhelm the other.

His hands found a firm place on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, lips growing slowly firmer until Tom’s tongue was tracing your bottom lip and you granted him access. You both moaned in pleasure as your tongues found each other’s after so long, neither of you forgetting how they almost danced together. The sound of your lips finally uniting being the only sound in the quiet flat.

It wasn’t long before Tom had picked you up, carefully, and your legs were wrapped around his waist as he carried you down the hallway and into your bedroom. Your kiss had grown much heavier along the way, your arousal for each other settling in properly as the only emotion left was lust, need for each other. You untucked his shirt as he carried you, hand trailing up his toned back.

His hand was carefully squeezing your waist, grabbing a handful of your arse every so often. You felt him harden against you and you knew he knew how wet you’d be for him when he took your shirts off. He kicked your bedroom door open and when he turned to shut it he pinned you against it.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He was the first to say as he placed kisses along your throat, your hand fisting in the back of his hair.

“Feels like it.” You spoke as you felt his hardened length again.

“Like you’re gonna be any better.” He teased and as if to prove his point he ran a hand up your thigh and into your shorts, running his finger through your folds. “So wet.” He hummed.

He moved you and placed you on the bed, something digging into your back as he did. You moved your hand around until you found whatever it was and when you pulled it out you heard Tom mutter a ‘fuck.’

“Not quite the same but it took the edge off.” You said as you threw it down the side of your bed.

“Thinking about me?” Tom asked as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Did you touch yourself? Thinking about how well I fuck you with my fingers, tongue, cock?” He asked as he took in your braless and now topless figure. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always.” You panted when he brought his mouth over your hardened nipple. He hummed in response and it sent vibrations through your entire being. It ignited you in a way it always had, in a way only he could.

“That’s fucking hot.” Tom said as he popped your nipple from his mouth and as you attempted to undo the buttons on his shirt. You grew frustrated when they wouldn’t play ball and sat up, Tom moving with you, he looked at you confused for a second before you quite literally grasped the middle of his buttons and ripped it off, buttons flying everywhere.

“Fuck me.” Tom said, never had he seen you so needy for him, so desperate. It was doing things to him he couldn’t explain, he didn’t have much time to think as you latched your mouth onto his neck and sucked. You knew exactly where his sweet spot was, not hesitating to suck, you moved his now open shirt off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. It wasn’t until you pulled back, eyes darker, completely consumed by lust that he realised what you’d done.

“Have you just left a mark?” Tom asked, almost astonished, it turned him on to no end. You just shrugged as you laid back on the bed, looking up at him and he swears he lost his dominant side for second. Completely in awe of you.

“Oh baby,” he didn’t miss your breath hitch at the nickname as he regained himself and crawled back on top of you. His own lips found the top of your breast, sucking his own mark onto it. “It’s cute, watching you try and take dominance from me, but we both know who’s in charge, don’t we darling.” He asked as he sat back to look at his handy work. He’d kicked his shoes off by now as he laid on top of you.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he chuckled, completely consumed by desire, the pair of you were by this point. His cock was throbbing for you and he knew you’d be clenching and unclenching around nothing, around the idea of him being inside you.

“What does my princess want? My fingers?” He asked as he made quick work of your shorts, placing a finger inside you that had you rolling your head back and moaning in pleasure. His kisses trailing down your body as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “My tongue?” He asked as he placed it carefully on your clit. Teasing you by halting all movements, watching you squirm as you tried to create friction. “Tell me baby.” He spoke before oh so slowly dragging his down your folds to meet his fingers and dragging it back up. You sat up to look at him between your legs, god the look on your face was something of pure pleasure in itself.

“All of it, Tom, I just want you.” You panted out and he chuckled as he moved his finger, carefully sliding in and out of you, mindful that it’d been a while and while he knew your own fingers had been inside you, your fingers were smaller than his.

“I suppose it’s been a while. Should fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, the way you’ve missed.” He said and before you could respond his tongue was back on your clit as he sucked and licked at it, watching, and groaning as you threw your head back, body arching off the bed as one hand fisted his hair and the other your bedsheets.

It wasn’t long before you were squirming beneath him as he added a second finger, opening you up for him, your body shaking as you neared your first mind blowing orgasm in almost three months. He could have blown his load just from watching you as you arched off the bed, screamed his name and tightened so well around his fingers as you came. Panting, body shaking as he helped you through it.

He expected you to be all fucked out when he climbed back on top of you, what he was not expecting was for your still just as lust blown and wild eyes looking into his own. You took him by surprise when you pushed him onto his back before climbing on top of him. You didn’t ride him often and when you did, it was never with so much confidence. It was like he’d awakened something primal in you and he fucking loved it.

You made light work of his pants and boxers, straddling him as you confidently took his cock into your hand and placed him inside you. He couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips at the feeling and also the sight. This was not what he was expecting as you placed your hands on his chest and moved your hips of your own accord.

You’d never been shy in bed, not when it came to being beneath him but every time he’d relinquish control and let you be on top you’d ask for his guidance. Not tonight, tonight you were using his cock to get yourself off and he loved it, loved the way it made him feel. He moaned as he gripped your hips, you’d taken control, he hadn’t given it and fuck if it made him almost finish inside you right there.

You moaned as you moved your hips, feeling every inch of him as the angle had him brushing that spot you’d not felt stimulated in a while and it made you almost scream his name as you fucked him. You wee both moaning, sweating and you expected Tom to take control back but he didn’t, he let you have all the control.

“So much for we both know who’s in charge Tommy.” You moaned and you expected a cocky response but none came, just a moan of your name. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You said as you felt your high approach, felt as you tightened around him and it only served to make you moved faster. Tom became something of a moaning mess underneath you, something you’d never seen before and that urged you on as you chased both of your highs.

“Just like that baby.” He said and your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt your orgasm fast approach. “Shit, Y/N/N, I’m gonna come.” Tom moaned and you don’t know what came over you, a feeling of pure power maybe, but you’re glad that it did.

“Come for me Tom.” You whispered, voice laced in lust and command as you placed your lips to his ear, leaning back to watch as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned uncontrollably, moaning profanities laced with your name. You’d never seen him like this, you felt powerful above him, the ever so powerful Tom Holland reduced to a moaning mess because of you. It urged you to finish chasing your high as you fucked him through his. You collapsed onto his chest, with an almost scream of his name as you felt euphoria wash over you.

“Fuck.” Was all Tom had to say when he came down from possibly one of the most explosive orgasms he’d ever had. He loved being in control he really did, but watching you like that? You could have the control whenever you wanted it.

“Yeah.” You mumbled against his chest as tiredness washed over you. He flipped you over whilst staying inside of you, carefully drawing himself out as he cleaned you both up. Whilst he was busy doing that it gave you time to realise just how much power you had over him. He could have easily taken back the control, shown you who was in charge and he didn’t not even when you practically dared him to.

He came back into the bed as he massaged your thighs that were now aching slightly. You shivered as he did, body feeling sensitive all over after your orgasms. You played with his curls as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Where did that come from?” He asked, amused tone.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly, you didn’t, maybe it was the fact that you’d not been able to have him for three months. Maybe it was the desire to hold power over him, even if just in bed, you weren’t sure but he’d woken something in you that you liked.

“I’m gonna have to let you take charge more often.” He laughed as he continued to massage your thighs, your hands still in his hair.

“How come you didn’t take it back? The control?” You had to ask.

“Didn’t want it, not then. Fuck, you looked you so hot. It did something to me, watching you use me to get yourself off, taking your own pleasure like that, fuck.” He said as he kissed your stomach.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be a sub now, I’ll miss you railing me into whatever surface we find ourselves on.” You laughed and he joined.

“No, but you can have the control, whenever you want it.” He spoke and it sounded so honest that your heart soared. Tom Holland did not give control to anybody, it wasn’t his style yet here he was telling you could have it whenever you wanted it. That’s how much he loved you, how much you were different to everyone else in his life. It solidified your decision.

“I want to come home.”

**

You’d worked things out between the two of you, a week’s worth of late nights and talking. You’d told him you wanted to be more involved, you didn’t want to shy away anymore, Tom was hesitant but agreed. You asked him to train you, make sure you could a least attempt to defend yourself, although that wasn’t going so well, every time he was teaching you one of you got distracted and you usually ended up underneath him.

Tom liked the change in you, you were tougher, more confident and he wondered what had brought the change. You were still the same woman he fell in love with, the same woman who was kind thoughtful and free but now? Now you weren’t afraid to speak your mind, you commanded a level of respect from his men now and he loved it. He loved everything about you and you him.

It was a month later when you both heard the commotion downstairs, you jolted up. Tom had only had to wake you from a couple of nightmares, they were seemingly leaving you, slowly but surely. Tom placed a hand on your arm, sitting up, your eyes frantically looked for his and calmed when they locked.

Tom got dressed as he made his way downstairs, he was shocked to see Harrison carrying the very man he��d spent just over four months looking for. He was struggling against Harrison but to no avail, Haz had a firm grip around the man’s arms.

“Found him, hiding out in some club.” Harrison spat as he threw the man down at Tom’s feet. He spat blood onto the tiled floor of the mansions entrance.

“Tom! How’d you like your girl? Sent her back nice and pretty for you.” Caleb said, laughing as he did. Tom felt his anger rise again, images of what he’d done to you filling his mind. Tom wasted no time in kicking him in the gut.

“Take him into the living room and tie him up, I’ll be back in a minute.” Tom said, he was going to say goodnight to you, this was going to take him a while. He huffed as he made his way into the bedroom and shit the door.

“What happened?” You asked as you rushed over to him.

“Haz found Caleb.” Tom said and he watched as panic flashed in your eyes for a moment before they found Tom’s.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, voice steady.

“Better question is probably what I won’t do.” Tom said as he took you into his embrace. He held you for a moment and kissed your head. You thought for a moment, this man had been your tormenter, the man who’d taunted you, made you feel heartbroken. This was the last part of getting over what happened to you. “I’m gonna be a while, so I came to say goodnight.” He whispered as he kissed your head.

“I want to come.” You spoke before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Tom asked, voice faltering.

“I want to watch you kill him Tom.” You spoke more confidently as you moved away from him.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said, sure he was willing to let you know about everything in his business, but seeing him deal with someone? No.

“Tom,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I need this, I need to see him die. I’ll know it’s over then.” You whispered.

“Sweetheart, you don’t, I know you think you do but you don’t. You’re not gonna wanna see what I’m gonna do to him.” He said firmly.

“Tom, please?” You begged as you looked at him and you knew he was fighting an internal battle within himself. “If it gets too much, I’ll leave, I promise. I won’t think of you any differently, Tom I know you’d never hurt me.” You said, hoping to win him over.

“It’s not for the faint-hearted love. It’s not like in films, this is real life and what you’ll see, what you’ll watch happen it’ll change you. Make you more like me, darken you.” Tom said and you looked at him with all the confidence in world. This was the life you wanted, the life you’d chosen and you didn’t hold a single regret.

“Good.”

[hollandsmushroom]

My Marks

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader  AU: Frat!Tom Holland Word Count: 1,302 NSFW/SFW  Summary: After a really rough day and the pain of wearing a bra Tom isn’t the biggest fan of the effects it has had on your body. A/N: Thank you so much to @spydeysense for being the person I could bounce ideas off of and for encouraging this fic last night. I loved writing this and knew i had to write it as soon as possible so here we are. Also thanks you for giving me the line “The only marks you should have are mine” Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI, Bras, fingering, smut, overwhelming fluff and soft Frat!Tom.

You felt exhausted, every muscle in your body drained of the energy that it had stored the previous night. Your day had been a schedule designed by Satan himself, slowly breaking you down throughout the day. You had been so comfortable in Tom’s arms when you woke up this morning, your brain fogged with the scent of him, his skin against your urging you to ignore your alarm that was sounding from the speaker of your phone. It was only when your 5 minutes to class alarm went off that you realized just how fucked you were. Scrambling out of your boyfriends bed and coming to the shit realization you hadn’t brought a change of clothes, leaving you without time to go back to your dorm and forcing you to settle on wearing yesterday's clothes, complete with the lacy bra that you had worn for yours and Tom’s adventures, but it wasn’t designed for long wear, only for the time it took your partner to take it off of you, but it was all you had. You slid the lace on your body, covering your distraught frame with one of Tom’s shirts and pants, running out the door without even a kiss on Tom’s cheek.

You got to class late, only to find the door locked, in a desperate attempt you texted a friend you knew always sat by the side of the lecture hall, hoping that the Prof’s back was turned and she would be able to sneak you in, and by the only god’s grace that day, she was. You later ended up questioning if actually going to class was a good thing, ending up sitting on one of the old wooden seats, shimmying to get comfortable resulting in a splinter in the back of your thigh, the sudden pain causing your leg to jolt, hitting the table next to you and knocking over an old coffee that someone had left there and spilling it across your lap. The liquid was cold and slightly sour but you didn’t have time to clean yourself up after class, having to rush yourself off to the Coffee shop that you worked at, only to be bombarded with rude customer after rude customer, your bra progressively digging farther and farther into your skin.

At the end of your shift you were on the verge of tears, more coffee tainting your outfit than had been this morning, your coworker having spilled a boiling hot cup of coffee on you and burning your skin but the shop was too busy for you to be able to fully deal with it. Your phone was filled with unanswered texts, ones that you really didn’t have the energy to answer, trudging back across campus to Tom’s frat house, not even bothering to go home, knowing that Tom would let you wear something of his, or something you knew he would much prefer, nothing at all.

You entered the run down house, the front door never being locked and passing multiple boys that were scattered throughout the communal rooms hiking up to the very top room of the house. Multiple flights of stairs and some nonchalant hellos later you entered your boyfriend's room, finding him sprawled out on his bed scrolling through his phone.

“You left without giving me a kiss” he pouted at you from behind the screen, his eyes widening as they fell upon you, throwing his phone to the side and standing up from his bed, quickly meeting you where you stood as you bag fell from your shoulder with a loud thud. “Baby?” his voice was much softer as he reached out to cup your cheek, thumbing away a tear that slipped out of the corner of your tired eye.

“Long day” you murmur under your breath, avoiding his eyes that searched for yours.

“Yeah, what can I do to help” no one else knew this side of him, the soft needy, easily made grumpy if denied the affection he wanted, side, you were the only one.

“Take my fucking bra off” you groaned, Tom’s touch only letting it dig farther into your skin.

“With pleasure” he smirks, earning him a light slap on the chest. “I’m kidding, here let me” he gripped the hem of your shirt, removing it from your body and letting him see the lace that adorned your skin, “Fuck, baby” he would have been turned on if he didn’t notice just how much the straps were digging into your skin, immediately sliding them off of your shoulders.

“I don’t like these” he spoke, tracing the faint burn and the indents on your skin, his fingers undoing the the clasp of the bra and letting it fall fully to the ground, ducking his head down and kissing the impressions on your skin “The only marks on your skin should be mine, baby” he hummed, his lips trailing up the column of your neck and sucking gently on the spot beneath your ear. His hands snuck around your front and cupped your sore breasts, tweaking your nipples playfully yet eliciting an exhausted moan from you. “I should replace them, shouldn’t I?” he asked the air, the rhetoric in his voice encouraging your continued silence.

“Tommy I’m too tired” you whispered as you felt your body melt into his touch, back relaxing into his front to the point where he was basically holding you up.

“Baby, you won’t need to do anything” his hips pressed into your ass and moved you towards the bed letting you fall back softly. He crawled over top of your shirtless body, kissing his way up to your lips, littering small purple marks along your stomach and breast, slipping his hand into the front of your pants and rubbing your rapidly wettening folds. The pad of his finger catching on your clit and rubbing over it gently. Your exhaustion was taking over, mixing with the pleasure that was rapidly expanding from your core, your nipples hardening as your blood began to pump more rapidly.

“Feel good, baby?” he whispered against the shell of your ear.

“So good Tommy” you whined, lazily grinding your hips against his hand.

“You gonna cum on my fingers, love? You gonna make my palm soaked as I suck pretty marks into your skin?” teeth pressing into your shoulder as he licked over the fresh marks, ones that he loved so much more than the pesky ones your bra gave you.

“Tommy, you’re gonna make me cum” you whimpered, body tensing as you rocked your hips upwards into him, your cunt clenching around nothing causing increased blood flow to the nub that Tom’s fingers were incessantly rubbing over.

“Yeah? Tell me how I make you feel baby, let me know how good I am”

“You make me feel like heaven, so good, Tom, so fucking good” you felt a fire ignite in the pit of your stomach, your toes curling into the soft duvet as you thrust your hips all the way into him, cumming on his hand as the last minute bit of energy left your body with a content and pleasurable moan. Your back collapsing onto the bed, fabric soft on your now over sensitive skin. Tom pulled the blanket over the both of you, pulling you into him as you began to fade off to sleep, only to be interrupted by the vibrations of his chest, his smooth voice reaching your ears.

“I don’t care if makes you late, I need you to give me a kiss before you leave, every morning”

“I will do my best, but Tom every morning? We don’t live together” you giggled, your eyes falling shut as you cuddled farther into his chest, nose nuzzling his smooth skin.

“Well we could” he hummed, nails scratching over your scalp. “I think I’d like that”

@thehumanistsdiary

[wri0thesley]

Heyo! Could I please get a scenario of phone sex with Gojo please? Thank you so much, I found you through AO3 and love your writing!

a good night’s rest - gojo x fem!reader (2.7k)

gojo sends you a picture of himself in a hotel bed whilst he’s away on a mission. it preys on your mind. thankfully, gojo’s got a bit of a predicament on his end too. 

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! established relationship. phone sex, masturbation, use of toys. reader is afab and uses fem pronouns. 

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

You’ve long since learned to deal with being on your own.

It’s not that your boyfriend doesn’t want to be with you – when he is here, he wraps his arms around you and covers your face with kisses and squeezes you, holding you so tightly that you feel like he’ll never let go – but more that he has no choice but to have to go away. Satoru Gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the whole goddamn world, and with that comes a world of responsibility. So even though his constant missions all around Japan and abroad make you pout and tug at his clothes and sigh, you accept that it’s a fact of life.

And when he is there with you, you make the most of him to the tune of his mouth on yours and you sinking down onto his cock until neither of you can think about anything but one another’s body, sweat-slicked and needy and pressed against each other as you climb to your peaks together, over and over and over.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t get needy when he’s away.

Tonight had been one of those nights. He’d sent you a picture of himself in his hotel bed, blindfold pushed up to reveal crystalline blue eyes with galaxies swirling in them, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth and two fingers held up to his cheek in a peace sign. It’s a silly photograph, more than anything else – but it had been hard for you to concentrate on anything when he’d been shirtless beneath the blankets. When you’d seen the lean lines of his broad shoulders and muscled chest, the bare, unmarked collarbones that were begging to be kissed and bitten.

After you’d noticed the bare top half, it had been impossible to not let your gaze linger on all of the other things. The pink tip of his tongue (that you wish was buried between your legs), the two fingers (that you wish were inside of you), the blankets bunched up around his hips hiding his cock (you’d wondered if he was naked in his fancy hotel bed and squeezed your legs together, a soft breath escaping you at the thought).

You’d sent him a picture back of you blowing a kiss to the camera, but you hadn’t been able to shake the thoughts about him.

So you’d let your fingers wander. Cupped your breast in your hand, tugged at your nipples – stroked over your stomach with the barest hint of your fingertips, brushing your soaked slit through the thin material of your underwear. You’d imagined they were Gojo’s fingers as well as you could, but it hadn’t been enough. It hadn’t been enough to bite into your lip and circle your clit imagining Gojo’s voice teasing you about how wet you were for him; and it hadn’t been enough when you’d slipped one finger inside of yourself to the knuckle and it hadn’t hit you in all the same places that Gojo’s fingers do.

You’d been laid on your bed, teeth clenched and sweat beading on your hairline with tears of frustration welling in the corners of your eyes, when your phone had begun to ring and you’d seen Gojo’s name flash up.

“Hello?” You’d breathed into the receiver, fumbling with the hand not inside of you to answer. You hear an answering sigh, Gojo’s voice pitching into a whine as he says;

“Doll? I miss you.”

Your eyes close.

“I miss you too,” you breathe. You wonder if he can hear the light hitch in your breath – if he’s wondering what you’re doing right now. You hope not. It would be embarrassing, you think, to be caught in this particular act. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

“It’s nice to hear yours!” He chirps, too bright considering that it’s what – two in the morning? “I’ve been trying to go back to sleep ever since you sent me that picture, but . . .” His voice drops, low. “Cupcake--”

“Did you like it?” You ask, the change in his tone sending shivers down your spine. He chuckles down the line and you feel yourself clench around the finger still buried inside of you, a little bolt of electric heat shooting down your spine.

“Like it? Oh . . .” He takes a soft little breath. “You knew exactly what you were doin’, huh?”

“Says you,” you whisper, your voice dropping to something low and throaty. “Were you wearing underwear in the one you sent?”

He chuckles down the line.

“We-e-ell,” he says, drawing out the syllable into a sing-song, “I’m sure not wearing it now.”

“Me neither,” you admit. Your face is burning hot, but you move the phone a little – you pull your finger half out of you before driving it back in, the wet sound obvious even (you hope) through the line. Gojo makes a groan, a whistle through his teeth – but he manages to keep his tone teasing as he says;

“Ahh, now – is that what I think it is? Tch!” He clicks his tongue at you in mock disappointment. “You’re so naughty, dollface--”

“What are you doing right now?” You ask him, and he laughs. You hear the noise of something slick and wet and you think of him pumping his shaft (how thick, how long it always looks in his hand) and have to swallow back the lump in your throat.

“That’d be telling!” He says, brightly, but he ends with a light laugh. “I think you can guess, can’t you?”

“D’you miss me that much?” You slide a second finger inside of yourself, relishing the stretch of your slick, tight walls around you.

“More than words can say,” he breathes. “I’d fuckin’ kill to have you with me right now, doll-- my hands don’t feel half as good as yours--”

“My fingers don’t reach as far as yours,” you admit, breathlessly. You know he must be able to hear that those fingers are sliding in and out of you faster and harder with every moment that passes. “I--”

“Get a toy,” Gojo says. His voice has dropped a semitone; low, and commanding. He’s usually carefree with his words, but when he gets an idea into his head he clings to it. He loves being in control. “The blue one, you know the one I like--”

You fumble, pulling your fingers out of yourself with a slick pop. The bottom drawer has a little collection of sex toys in, most of which you’d owned before you’d met Gojo – some of which he’d bought you, though, because he liked the idea of spicing up your sex life.

“It’s not that I don’t think I can satisfy you,” he’d said, with a crooked, cheeky grin. “But . . . it’s nice to introduce some tools every so often, right?” He’d winked at you and pressed the blue dildo into your hand. “This one’s almost as long as me and only a little bit thinner--”

“I’ve got it,” you breathe, once you’re back on the bed, and Gojo makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat.

“Get it nice and wet for me like a good girl,” he says. Even though he can’t see you, you open your mouth and gently begin to kiss and lick the toy as if it were Gojo’s cock. You give kitten licks to the swollen head, soft kisses along where the slit would be (those always make Gojo groan, tilt his head back so you can see the column of his throat and you throb with need at how gorgeous he looks when you’re on your knees for him). Gently suckling just the head into the cavern of your mouth, before sliding further down on it--

You make a conscious effort to not quieten your noises. It’s a sloppier blowjob than you’d give Gojo, but all he has to go on right now is the audio of the phone call and you imagine the wet noises of you drooling around the toy are much sexier than you silently giving it a careful suck to wet it before you put it inside you.

Judging from Gojo’s reaction – the groaning you can hear coming from the other end, the ragged sighs – your efforts are not in vain.

“Good girl,” he says, as if he can see you, when you manage to deep-throat almost the whole thing. “I think that’s plenty wet enough now, right? T-tell me how you’re feeling--”

The light stutter is endearing – you imagine him stroking his thumb over the slit of his cock, swirling his pre-come over the reddened tip.

“I’m so wet,” you whimper, through the phone. “If I don’t get something inside of me soon I think I’ll die--”

“Fuck,” he says. “I wish it was me you were putting inside, doll.”

“Me too,” you say, with a sigh. “But this’ll have to do--”

“I’ll fuck you until I can’t walk when I’m home, I promise.” There’s a steely undercurrent to Gojo’s words that do not leave you doubting he means them sincerely. “But for now . . . bring the toy down your body, princess.” You follow his instructions, shivering at the sensation of the wet tip of it leaving a trail of your own saliva. “Touch your tits for me, come on-- if I were there, I’d kiss and bite your nipples until they were sore and aching, but . . . I’m not, so you’re gonna have to do it for me. Give ‘em a pinch--”

The hand not holding the toy puts the phone on speaker and places it beside you on the bed so you can heed his instructions. The sound of his low voice giving you orders and commands seems to intensify the ache inside of you threefold – as you pinch your nipples almost hard enough to hurt, as you squeeze the heavy weight of your breast and wish your fingertips were as big and as rough as Gojo’s. His hands always feel so good on you. You whimper aloud as you skim the sensitive skin, your nipples sore points as Gojo finally says;

“The toy, doll. I want you to rub it through your pussy for me, I wanna hear how wet you are--”

It does, indeed, make an indecent noise as the head of the dildo parts your slick folds. You’re drenched.

“Fuck,” Gojo groans. “You sound like you’re dripping--”

“I am,” you say, choked as you rub the smooth head over your poor, swollen clit. He hasn’t told you to put it inside of you yet, so you hold back; but fuck, you want to. You need to. “Wish you were here, Satoru--”

“I wish I was too,” he reassures you. “I need your hands on me, princess. Need your pretty cunt. Need to feel you squeeze around me and fuck you until you can’t walk--” As he speaks, you hear a growl in the back of his throat and imagine his hand getting faster on his cock. Your thighs are trembling.

“Satoru—” You whine, again, his words not helping the ache in your lower belly that feels like a physical pain. “N-need something inside of me, need it--”

“Shhh,” he breathes, “put it in, c’mon. Slowly. Let me imagine it filling you up.”

You’re so grateful for him telling you to put it in that you almost get greedy and press it in you in one fell swoop – but you want to be good for Gojo, so you manage to control yourself. You feel the wider flare of the head open you up as you ease it inside you inch by inch, your greedy channel swallowing it up and clinging to it tight and hot. It feels much better than your fingers do – it hits you deeper, fuller, wider. The muscles in your thighs clench as you put your feet on the bed, keeping your legs parted as wide as you can.

“Is it in?” He asks, and you make a soft whimper of assent. “How’s it feel?”

“N-not as good as you--”

You win a chuckle from him that has a strained chord in.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s the next best thing, right? You full? It good? I haven’t got anything to imagine is you except my own hand, dollface, so you’re winning the battle--”

“I’ll make it up to you,” the words tumble out of you, your breath heaving.

“Oh, I know you will . . . You wanna move the toy for me now? You wanna fuck yourself on it? I wanna hear you come,  doll, so I can come with you--”

You don’t need to be told twice. You pull the toy out of you and immediately thrust it back in, establishing a rhythm as quickly as you can. Gojo would take his time – he loves having you at his mercy, shivering and shaking and begging him to go faster and faster and harder and harder, but you do not have the patience for that tonight without his body on top of yours. So you let the fast noises of you fucking yourself on the dildo echo around the too-empty bedroom, the curved spot of it hitting you just right with every desperate flex and thrust of your wrists. You want to be fucked out of your mind. You’re moaning, gasping, sighing his name aloud – and in return, you can hear the sound of Gojo’s hands on his shaft. He’s whispering your name in turn, along with filthy things about how tight you always are for him and how you’re his favourite, his good girl, he’s gonna fuck you into next week when he sees you, he needs your cunt around his cock right fucking now--

The hand not controlling the movement of the toy skims your stomach to part the plump lips of your sex, to play with your clit as you fuck yourself on the dildo. You circle the sensitive bundle of nerves a few times before beginning to rub in earnest, needing the direct stimulation. The pad of your finger is not large and calloused like Gojo’s is (his finger always feels so good on your clit, too – he always seems to know exactly how to swirl it, how much pressure to put on it, to build you up), but in tandem with the shaft currently plunging in and out of your walls--

“Satoru,” you pant, turning your head so your cheek is pressed against the pillow. “I’m-- I’m close--”

“Fuck,” you hear the slick sounds get faster, almost impossibly so. “Fuck, fuck, I want you to come for me, dollface, angel, cupcake, baby girl, princess-- lemme hear your pretty voice--”

Your eyes flutter closed and a vision of Gojo swims to the forefront of your mind – his pale hair slicked back with sweat, his shoulders so broad, his eyes glittering so dangerously as his teeth dig into his unfairly plump bottom lip. You recall the sound of his voice telling you to come.

The swirling tornado of heat inside of you seems to all converge on a single point between your thighs, and the ache in both of your wrists seems, too, to dissipate entirely as that point explodes into a thousand pieces and rains pleasurable sparks all over you, a tsunami crashing onto a peaceful shore.

You wail out Gojo’s name as you come, and whilst you’re still cresting the great wave of pleasure Gojo grunts out your own and you know that he’s come too.

You lie there with the toy still buried inside of you as you ride out the final waves, the trembling aftershocks. Your legs seize up and you lose your footing on the sheets so you’re simply laid there, a boneless, useless mess whose breath will not seem to stay in their lungs.

Gojo’s breathing is stuttered, and you cannot help the thrill that goes through you at the knowledge that you always get to be the one to break Satoru Gojo’s cool composure. Your fingers ache, but the sheets beneath them as you relax into the bed is blessedly cool.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” Gojo’s voice comes, after the two of you have spent a few minutes simply breathing deep and satisfied down the line at one another. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you either,” you murmur, a smile on your face that leaks through into your tone. Gojo’s own smile is obvious when he speaks, too;

“Thanks, dollface. I think I’ll get a good night’s rest now.”

[kiridarling]

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐔𝐏!

shouto todoroki | f!reader, ceo heir!shouto, mirror sex, hair pulling, choking, inappropriate use of showerhead, alcohol. minors dni!

— 3k words

"You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

Miss Y/N,

I couldn't help but notice the latest project my father assigned is extremely difficult. If I'm going to be completely honest, you'll work yourself to death at this rate, and your greys double by the day. Drinks on me at Club 777 at 7 pm. Sound like a deal?

— shouto todoroki

“A club.”

“Glad you could make it,” Shouto gives you a small smile; it’s anything but hostile. And yet, that’s all yours is as you assume the space to his right in the velvet crescent booth. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to find. Club 777 is pretty popular around he—what are you doing.”

As your fingers fly across the keyboard, you give him an indignant huff, the screen highlighting the underside of your face electric blue as you continue hacking away at your presentation. If you’re going to be forced to go out, you’re going to make the most of it—and that’s by getting the work that you would be getting done at home, at a club. And a rather loud one, at that.

"You're a workaholic," he observes with a sigh, and you flash him a fat sarcastic smile. Stupid fucking CEO heirs and their entitlement.

"Congrats, you've solved everything! Can I go home, now?"

"No," Shouto frowns before he rudely snaps your laptop shut and sets it to his right. Pushing a plate of clear-colored shots your way, your eyes bulge—there have got to be at least fifteen. "Drink up—it'll take the edge off."

You blink between your coworker and the shots. You trust Shouto and you've known each other for a while...somewhat. His father is your boss, and with Shouto as the next in line you’ve got no choice but to play nice. He’s as cocky as he is aloof, but you suppose he’s fine overall—and he's seen you break your back over this project for a solid month and a half. Positive you won't be able to keep your conscious from running laps over all the work you have to do otherwise, you snatch the first shot and chuck it down your gullet with worrying enthusiasm. Shouto lifts an eyebrow and you reach for another.

"Thirsty?" He chuckles, before grabbing a shot for himself. The second shot burns, but never as much as the first, and the back of your hand catches what doesn't make it into your mouth as you say:

"More than you could think."

"And then—and then I was like, um no sir, I think you got my change wrong by at least five bucks! He didn't believe me, like at all."

"Did he make a fuss of it?"

"Of course."

"That means he has a small dick," Shouto advises with the second to last shot in his hand, wrist-watch glinting in the club light. His face is a deeper red than his hair and you've never noticed how nice a suit fits him as if you don't see him in one every day. You giggle at that, too far gone yourself to be offended on the stranger's behalf. Shouto's jacket drapes over your shoulders like an oversized blanket even though you bickered about not being cold, with enough alcohol in your veins to warm a village.

"Probably," you rest your head against the crescent booth, dismissive at the softness from the red velvet that’s probably ruining your hair. "Either way, I pulled a Karen and called the manager on 'em.

Shouto nods, "As you should. Once I tricked my father into thinking he had a very unhappy customer by sending him a million emails from 'John Appleseed' and calling his personal secretary twice as much."

You cackle, throwing yourself across the table at the thought of your Boss’ face hot and red with anger (as it does.) Shouto's loved nothing more than to make his animosity against his father well-known—to you, at least—and to say bored Heir been getting creative the past few months is an understatement. "Oh fuck—when'd you stop calling?"

Shouto shrugs, muscles rolling underneath his white dress shirt, "Once I filled his voicemail box.”

He holds a smile, small and distant, as he watches you wheeze as if he just told the funniest story in the world. In your defense, Shouto's never really been a funny guy, but he does funny things. Like when he stares at you when he doesn’t think you notice, or when he gets so close your chests nearly touch, but doesn't notice it. Doesn't point it out, at least. You find your laugh dying along with the smile on his face, though, and when he says nothing afterward but stare.

"...Shouto?" You snap in his face to make sure he's still in there—but it's hard to tell, with his glazed eyes and scarily steady breathing. His arms find either side of you, and you're too tipsy to realize you've been caged against the booth until it's too late.

"Your eyes are quite mesmerizing, Miss Y/N," he marvels. You can smell the vodka on his breath, and positive that compliment would’ve set your face aflame if the alcohol hadn’t already, any hints of cherry obscured by the neon club lights.

"I—um, thank you," you giggle, and if you were sober, you'd shoot yourself in the foot for reacting like a school girl. But you suppose you can give yourself some leeway—this is Shouto Todoroki after all, and for some reason, he's complimenting you. "You...you aren't too bad yourself."

"You wouldn't mind if I got a little closer, would you?" Though Shouto holds a cheeky half-drunken smile on his own, knowing any closer will result in nothing but a kiss and perhaps a little more. His eyes flicker to your lips the same time yours flicker to his, and you and you catch a heat in his eyes you didn’t notice before.

"Not at all."

You blink and Shouto's lips are on yours. They’re soft, painfully so, and it's clear he knows what he's doing—with his hands dropping to your waist and tilting his head ever-so-slightly to the right. Nudging your lips open, his tongue easily finds it's way around, mapping the insides of your mouth and taking note of what makes you shiver the most.

Shouto tastes like vodka. It's a familiar taste, one that you associate with seven minutes in heaven and quick make-out sessions in high school—and yet this time it spurs your heart to beat faster, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in even closer, as if it's possible.

When you pull away it’s clear neither of you really want to, but unfortunately you need to oxygen to live, chest heaving in unison as your eyes catch his own. Shouto's grip tightens around your waist as he licks over his already wet lips, glossed by what you assume is your spit.

“You’re one dangerous woman,” he rasps with swollen lips. You giggle, but you know he knows his words’ effect on you because goosebumps are impossible to hide.

“Thank you,” you respond, a bit awkwardly—because what else are you supposed to say?

"I'm positive it isn't the alcohol talking when I say I want to take you right here." Shouto growls as his eyes hold you in your seat. You shiver, the request sounding impossibly inviting, and your thighs discreetly rub together to take the edge off a bit.

"Bathroom," you breathe against his lips, this night turning for the most unexpected.

"Off, off, get all of this off," Shouto pants the moment you two step into a gender-neutral singles bathroom. You don't doubt they made it gender-neutral for this exact reason, but that thought leaves as quickly as it enters when Shouto pins you against the sink starts to pepper hot kisses down your neck. He scrambles to bunch your dress to your waist over taking it off completely and growls at the sight of your lower-half in absence of your usual attire.

"Do you know how long I've wanted you? Hmm?” He's breathless as he settles between your legs with a lick of his lips, pushing the excess of your dress into your hands. You really don't know how long he’s wanted you, but you find yourself biting your lip at the prospect anyway—that you've been driving your boss's son, your future boss, just as crazy as he's been driving you.

"Shouto—"

"Shhh," he interrupts, pulling your panties to the side. "Let me take care of you. You've been working hard these past few months, no?"

You guess so.

Either way, all clarity dies when Shouto licks a fat stripe up your slit, chuckling when you slide a tentative hand into his hair. Your grip tightens when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, slipping a finger between your folds to elicit a whimper or two. He bites his lip when you tug a little.

"Keep doing that and you just might ruin me," Shouto groans, before his mouth returns and he’s adding another finger. When the digits curl just right, your hips buck in faint frustration—they're moving too slow.

"Can you, um," you blush, eyes skittering to the bathroom walls instead. The club music permeates despite the fact that they look like they're made of solid brick, vibrating the floor and sink underneath you both. "Go faster?"

Shouto's eyes snap to yours. For a second you’re afraid he's going to say no, but he tosses your leg over his shoulder and adjusts your hips until they're at a perfect level, licking his lips and growling:

"My pleasure."

You're positive whoever loiters near the bathroom door hears your yelp as his mouth descends to devour your pussy, eating you so enthusiastically that you see you're slick smeared across his pink cheeks. Shouto pulls your hips deeper into his face with a defiant growl and you have to drop your forearms on the sink to keep yourself from falling to the hard ground, your grip around the porcelain ever-tightening.

"Feel good?" He rubs a heavy thumb over your clit in place of his mouth and stuffs you with a third finger. You nod with a broken moan as he pulls his digits out all the way out before burying them knuckle-deep again, grasp on the sink slipping. He flicks your clit, "Answer me."

"Y-Yeah," you nod again, near-hyperventilating. You’re sure Shouto’s getting a kick out of it—at least, if his chuckle has anything to say about it.

"Good girl," he coos, the circles on your clit slowly quickening, "You're so pretty when you make a mess, aren't you?"

You're nodding along with him, though you're not exactly sure why—but then his mouth returns and suddenly, why doesn't matter as much.

Shouto's more vocal than you expected, groaning into your sweetness as your thighs trembles next to his head. He holds you like you're precious, like you're actually something to him, but you're much too drunk to unpack all of that right now. Instead, you tug at his hair. It pulls a much louder moan from his gut and you find yourself enjoying the vibrations, yanking harder to hear him again.

"W-Wait, Shouto," you whimper out, painfully close as you pull at his hair but this time to pull him away from you, "I wanna—wanna cum on your cock...if that's okay."

Shouto blinks once, twice, and then you're staring at yourself in the mirror listening to him frantically undoing his belt, cursing when the metal slaps him across the palm. You giggle.

"Eager, are we?"

"You don't even know," he pants, and the tip of his cock kissing your entrance has you biting your lip. His eyes meet yours in the mirror and they melt when he fits the head of his cock inside, the grip he has on the porcelain sink turning white as he pushes further.

"You are—you are painfully tight, Miss Y/N," Shouto wheezes into your neck, teeth grit as his pelvis finally brushes against your ass. You resist the urge to wheeze with him, his cock filling you to the point where your lungs struggle to find room to breathe.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you joke, eyes fluttering shut. Shouto tuts, grabbing the underside of your face as he says:

"Eyes open, Miss Y/N. I want you to watch yourself fall apart as I fuck you."

Your eyes peel open, albeit reluctantly as you whine, not understanding why you need to watch your own face when you can enjoy the sight of him instead, "But Shouto, that's embarrassing..."

"Just trust me," he grunts, and his hips are snapping into yours, sending you jolting into the sink to the point where you have to brace a hand on the mirror to keep yourself from being squished flat against the porcelain. Shouto leans over, "You trust me, don't you?"

And well. When he puts it like that...

"Look at yourself, not at me," Shouto says, catching you redhanded. You whine when the hand holding your head moves to your neck and squeezes, cutting off your oxygen supply just enough for your eyelids to drop halfway. "See? See how good you look? So wrecked for me already and we've barely started."

"S-Shut up," you moan more than you say, finding yourself mesmerized in the way your lips part and by the redness of your cheeks. Shouto dips his head into your neck and sucks, prompting your free hand to find his multicolored hair again and pull. His reaction is almost automatic, the way the smooth rock of his hips changes into a quick snap in a heartbeat. It has you keening, his cock reaching places spots you weren't aware you had, and he crushes you against the sink to rub at your clit.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous for me," he grunts, hips finding the energy to pick up the pace. You whimper and he's sucking a hickey into your neck, hot breaths punctuating along with his sharp thrusts. "Feel so good around my cock, like you were made for me—shit—"

This time you break the rules, eyes flickering to look Shouto in the mirror as you watch him come undone. His hips stutter as he muffles a broken moan in the back of your neck, body shuddering while he fills you up. His thrusts slowly dissolve into nothing and soon it's just your heavy breathing between brick walls, until Shouto pulls out with a hiss.

"You didn't cum."

"O-Oh, um," You blink at his unimpressed gaze through the mirror as if you got caught redhanded. "I...usually can't. Without a vibe.”

Shouto hums at that but says nothing. You watch something in his brain churn, eyes surveying the room before a lightbulb appears above his head and he's snapping his fingers.

"The shower."

"...What?"

"The. Shower." Shouto says, a little cheekier this time, as he guides you towards a simple shower hidden behind a curtain. Now, why there’s a shower in a club bathroom is beyond you.

"Well. This seems awfully convenient," you click. Shouto shrugs.

"Sun (the author) says it's to clean up the drunks who vomit all over themselves." He takes the only shower seat available, back pressing against the tile.” I think she just wants you to ride a showerhead ****if I'm being completely honest."

"Maybe she tried it for the first time recently or something,” you hum absentmindedly, but that thought flies out the window as Shouto grunts:

"Either way, it's irrelevant. Strip."

"I—completely?" You exclaim, covering your body despite the fact that it's already covered by your dress again. Shouto raises an eyebrow, settling both elbows on his knees once grabbing the showerhead from its bar.

"Unless you want your outfit to get soaking wet, yes. Completely."

Touché.

You're naked fairly quickly and Shouto lays you across the tile even quicker. You watch him test the different modes on his hand, before choosing the one with the most...gusto. You spread your thighs and fight the embarrassing blush dusting your cheeks from the exposing position.

"Ready?" You roll your eyes.

"I swear Shouto, if you do—o-oh."

He presses the rushing water to your clit, and you have to take a step back, fully unprepared for how nice the pressure would feel. Shouto chuckles at that, the soles of his loafers soaking in the lukewarm water with you as he sits with his legs spread, brazenly enjoying the view.

"Feels good?"

You nod, hips subtly grinding into the hot stream. Shouto bites his lips at the view and it turns you on that much more to know you can have such an effect, before his free hand drops to his palm himself through his dress pants.

"I get the perfect view, too," Shouto growls to himself, tilting his head ever-so-slightly as you release a broken moan, bare hips stuttering against the tile. "A perfect view of that pretty little pussy. Ah ah, keep those legs for me."

Your inner thighs quiver with an impending orgasm, the edge looking much closer than it did previously. The combination of Shouto's words, his sounds, and the steady beat of the water against your clit is enough to have anyone shaking, and the only complaint you have is that you wish he wasn't so fucking far.

"S-Shouto," you whimper, hands scrambling across the slippery tile. "I'm close."

"Yeah? Do it then, make me proud," Shouto growls with a feral smile, grip tightening around his cock—you nod, chest shuddering.

“Y-Yeah just adjust the—oh fuck, Shou, right there!”

Your thighs clench as you gasp and your fingernails dig into the grout between the tile as you orgasm, your moan nearly bordering on a scream. Shouto groans, grip tight on his cock through his damp suit pants, and you nearly giggle as your high ebbs.

“Have I ever told you how dangerous you are, Y/N?” Shouto says cheekily. You grin back, cocking your head to the right.

“Only a million times.”

“Well then I owe it to you again,” he says lowly, and you get the message you two aren’t done as he joins you on the wet floor to cradle your jaw.

“You’re one dangerous woman, Y/N.”

a/n: i fully expose myself in this, and you know what? i'm fine with that.

click to return to CLUB 777

[katsukikitten]

Aight yall know the rules. 18 PLUS. Minor DNI, this was written for and helped to be dreamed up by @kingkatsuki who is always down to simp over Bakugou with me. Drummer!Bakugou x kindagroupy fem reader. Warnings include lots of smut and impact play. 💋🐱

Welts and bruises were hardly seen beneath the black swirling ink that snaked from a thick wrist all the way up a banded arm to nestle itself just barely over a normally guarded heart. Your fingers grip at drumsticks as you look over a certain hot head, unsure of your relationship status other than the fact that he used you to bring himself down from the height of the show. 

Just like he did a month ago at a meet and greet. Glaring at your stupid rare band shirt that featured him instead of his band mates. "No one gives a fuck about the drummer. It's why I'm the fucking drummer so I don't have to deal with mindless extras."  

To be honest it was his first time seeing that shirt since production, signing all 70 in existence half heartedly. You recall how agitated he was, obviously forced to this meet and greet when normally there were rumors that he never shows. He twirls his drumstick in his large fingers to keep from exploding as Kirishima, Jiro and Denki entertain the snobby VIPs. You had been lucky enough to win your ticket in a radio drawing and even though Bakugou wasn't talking much, not that you expected him too, it was nice to be there. 

Nice to have his garnet gaze cutting into your skin even if it was just harsh glares. It takes Kirishima a minute to figure out just why Bakugou hasn't left yet. His own glistening rubies roaming the small group of five until they land on you. The devil settles himself in Kirshima's skin as he stands, a rare and cocky smirk adornes his lips. He sits next to you, practically on top of you and your cheeks flush from the closeness of your second favorite band mate. You can smell the linger sweat from the show, musk and dark pine needles tickle your nose as you swallow desire whole. Choking just a bit as he leans closer. His calloused digits finger the hem of your shirt, pulling it away from your body a bit to inspect it more closely. 

"Ah, that's a sight to see." He chuckles, eyeing the shirt that has a shirtless Bakugou in action, sticks raised as he sits over his precious drum set, "This is from one of our first real gigs." 

"I know. The drumming interlude while Jiro rested her strained voice was so energizing. After that amazing show I had to buy a t-shirt of my favorite member! But they didn't have any at the show. It was hard finding this." Suddenly Bakugou's gaze becomes too much, leaving you feeling hot and bothered as the room seemed to smell like spiced caramel. What little ease you felt by Kirishima was devoured by the brooding blonde sitting on his throne of well worn leather. Gulping, you turn to face Kirishima a bit more as he chuckles again. 

"You don't want sour puss as your favorite. How about I make you a deal huh?" The room goes a little quiet as the other VIPs feign interest to hear. After a moment you nod a bit nervously fighting to keep your gaze on Kirishima. Meanwhile Bakugou tongues his lip ring with irritation.

"Why don't we trade shirts? I'll give you mine for yours?" He says, large hand gripping at the fabric at the nape of his neck. Pulling it off in one swift motion, setting it gently in your hands. The fabric a bit damp from the show, tingling pine masks your senses as you grip at the black fabric. 

Would it be rude to turn down a rock star? 

Just as you're about to find out the blonde stands, all eyes wide and set on his godly figure. His abs peeking out from beneath his infamous sleeveless and tattered black denim vest. 

The same one you wore now. You remember how he dragged you from the room and showed you just exactly who your favorite band member. Not knowing he played right into Kirishima's hand. 

Even now he still gets possessive when Kirishima comes too close. Pushing the guitarist and side vocals harshly away as Bakugou comes to close to you, cornering you against a sidewall backstage. 

"Hey Brat. Are you flirting with fire engine again?" His face says pissed but his tone is all tease. He nips at your ear before gripping your hair to tilt your head, exposing your neck to him. He licks a stripe up the column relishing how you taste before leaving a gasp inducing bite. Pink indents and a beautiful bruise bloom in his wake. Absentmindedly his thumb swipes over the mark gently. 

"Did you hurt yourself Suki?" You ask softly, hands having discovered just how raised those welts were. He watches the worry stain your features, pulling your bottom lip into a delightful pout. He leans down to your face, pulling at the jutting lip and giving it a small bite. Your skin erupts in heat, surging through your body until it settles in between your legs.  He pulls back, giving you his signature arrogant smirk. 

"Oi, don't get so worked up Princess. I'll show you how I got them after this set." He takes the drumsticks from your grip giving you a final, searing kiss before he makes his way on stage. Always the first to get the crowd hyped up as everyone else got situated. 

Anyone who had seen the same set of songs performed twice weekly for a month might have used the word bored to describe how they were feeling as they waited for the band to finish. 

But you were not like most people, see these 90 minutes that sometimes stretched into two hours was equivalent to a strip tease for you. Always having to shift your weight with the passing of each song, trying to get some friction for the heat that he caused at your core. His ash blonde hair would become darker, losing his spiky nature as it drooped from the weight of caramel scented bliss, the stands sticking to his skin causing him to push it back, exposing his forehead. His black shirt would darken as well, agitating the hot head as it clung to his muscles, sticking to skin and trying to throw off his rhythm. Between a song he places one of his drumsticks in his mouth, letting his large hand tear at the shirt until he can shed it off as if it were a second skin. 

The crowd always roars with excitement as the camera zooms in on him. On his dark eyes and glistening pecs. The ink of his arms and just barely over his pectorals sends a jolt of electricity through you, mouth salivating as you remember them hovering over you the night before. 

You clench around nothing, underwear becoming uncomfortable in your pleated skirt as you pull the well worn denim closer to you as you wait. 

Finally the show ends with Jiro giving all of her love to the crowd, to Kirishima and Denki rifting notes off of corded strings as Bakugou guides them with his ever steady beat. Slamming onto the symbols, foot bass and the drums, sweat flying from him as he moves. 

"Until we meet again!" They scream and the crowd echoes back their famous saying. 

Bakugou practically runs off stage, damp with caramel bliss as he rushes to you. Hunched over so he can scoop you up, giving you a twirl as he hoisted you into the air. Banded arms resting under your ass. 

"Did you see me out there, kitten?" His voice is rasped as he pants, laced in rare and genuine excitement. His skin sticking to your skirt and shirt as he brings you down to your black converse. He kisses you hungrily, gasping between kisses trying to catch his breath as he clings onto you with shaking fingers. 

"I'm always watching, king." You reply between swipes of his tongue. 

"Skipping the meet and greet again Bakugou? Manager Todoroki won't be happy." Kirishima comments, his voice softer than normal, his own dyed hair sticking to his skin. 

"Fuck him. It's an hour from now anyway dick head. I'll be in later." Bakugou growls back, as you push hair from his face to better see his eyes and his forehead. He lifts your giggling form again as he takes you back to his room. 

Neither of you hear Kirishima's comment to Jiro. 

"Have you ever seen him so in love?" 

The darkness of the room and the smell of you are soothing to Bakugou, his body still a live wire from the show as he tries to get a second wind so he can please you. He knows what his performance does to you, having come back to you soaking through your panties. Just as you were now, still his endurance was tested this week with three shows in a row. 

"Maybe you should-" 

"No." It comes out as a growl as he slowly begins to strip you of your clothes. Leaving you in nothing but his favorite skirt, he pushes you to lean over the futon, flipping up your skirt so he can see your bare sex. 

"God you're such a dirty slut." He sees your sex and thighs glistening with your slick, he lets his fingers collect your essence before swirling over that sensitive bud. 

"F...fuck Katuski." You cry out, hips bucking against him already before he leans over your body, his hard on poking your through his black jeans. 

"Still wanna see how I got these bruises baby?" He pants, even fingering you was taking effort but he wanted, needed to see you panting, begging beneath him. 

"Y..yes yes please!" His fingers still working as he's pressed against you, the coil in your stomach snapping as you see stars. Shaking beneath him as he puts you through two more. Slick pulling away from your sex in strings causing him to lick his fingers dry, holding eye contact with you as you shudder. 

Eye liner already starting to smudge as your mouth falls open into a mewl. He reaches for the wooden sticks in his back pocket. He removes one, the stick nicked and scuffed in various spots from the intensity of tonight's show.  He rubs your ass with his large palm before letting a harsh smack land on your supple cheek. Repeating the process until your cheeks glowed bright red. He lets the smooth wood run across your burning ass before he tests it with a light whack. Trying to remember how it felt against his own skin wanting to keep the damage at a minimum.  The precise impact causes you to jolt and whine. 

"More, I need more." You cry again and again as he let's the wood impact on your tender cheeks. Alternating sides while rubbing where he just hit  

"Yea? Such a greedy slut." Getting lost in your begging he brings down the drumstick a little too harshly, his mind hazed from the lingering show and from the pull of you. The stick snaps in half causing a bruising welt to rise at an alarming rate. Growling he tosses the stick aside, coming down to kiss and bite at your ass tenderly. You push your hips in the air. 

"Katsuki, baby. Please, please fuck me." You beg as tears fall down your perfect cheeks. 

"Fine, but." He pants slowly freeing himself as he lets the head of his cock stretch your sentence, "But only to cockwarm." 

"Noooo!" You whine, squirming as he plunges himself into your velvety walls, already setting a slow pace just to feel you clench against him if anything. 

"Please, please King. I want more. I need you to fill me, Katsuki, please." 

"I'll fucking give it to you brat." He snaps, the sight of you was too much.  Peering over your shoulder, eye liner smeared, hair sticking to your face as your mouth formed that perfect O. He throws caution to the wind and gives in to instinct, to you. 

He sets a harsh pace, his body shaking from exertion as he pounds into you with sloppy haste. Being much more vocal than usual as he grunts and groans allowing your tight cunt to pull him in. The sounds of your arousal echoes through the room as your feet come off the floor, squeezing your thighs around Bakugou to keep him close. Slowly you become limp letting him fuck into you before tensing as he hits that damned spongy spot. Causing stars to catch in your vision and the sounds of his groaning send you over the edge. 

"I'm gonna-" But you never finish it as a scream rips up your throat causing your voice to go hoarse. Your spasming cunt sends the hot head into a groaning tangent. His hips pistons into your soaking heat sloppily before they stutter. His hands gripping at your hips, body shaking the way yours normally does after a heavy session. He pants your walls in ropes of delicious hot cum, the action causing you to whimper.

In what feels like too a short time to Bakugou but the perfect amount to you, he withdrawals from you. Watching you twitch as his seed slips out. Gently he pushes it back in, before gathering some on his digits determined to make you cum a few more times until he is ready to go again.

Bucking and crying trying to squeeze your thighs to shut him away but he spreads you out until his fingers pull something special from you. Body so tense that if touched wrong you might shatter. 

And shatter you do as a silent scream escapes your lips, a clear liquid squirting onto his inky arm and black clothes.

"Ah, kitten I wanted you to squirt on my cock." He coos, rubbing slow sensual circles to bring you down slowly. Rubbing your ass, sure to check on your battered cheek, damning himself for losing control. He lifts you up, turning you to face him as you cling to him, arms crushing him to your smaller frame. 

"You okay Princess?" He asks, peppering kisses atop your head causing tears to burn your eyes. You choke out the question you had been meaning to ask since that first night. 

"What am I to you?" Your voice shakes as badly as your body, as if you were freezing from a chill. He tenses beneath you and you think you've crossed the line. Before you can backtrack he pushes you away from him to grab your chin. Leveling your face to his as he stares into your soul. 

"My fucking everything." He growls out, voice worn from overuse, "How else can I show you?" 

His thumb wipes away a few stray tears as you process what he has said. 

"I gave you my lucky vest didn't I?" You giggle at his question, nodding in agreement. He pulls you into a hug, eyes glaring at the clock. 

"Stay." He commands rushing to the sink to dampen a rag in warm water. He starts with your face, clearing it of the black eye liner. Slowly making his way down your body until he gets to your sticky sex. Wiping away his essence and yours before pressing a soft kiss to your hair line. He tosses the rag into the sink and rummages through your duffle bag returning with the shirt that started it all. A kiss is pressed to the black fabric before he slips over your head, sliding his lucky vest onto your strong shoulders before he adjusts your skirt. Twirling you in a mock dance to check for stains on your skirt, when he sees none he dresses himself pressing a water into your hand. You bite your lip thinking he's going to leave you here. 

"Sorry but you gotta come with me to the meet and greet since you've got this on." He tugs at the black denim causing you to giggle. Relief floods his aching body as your lips curl into a bright smile. 

True to his word Bakugou slips into the long meet and greet with you in tow an hour and a half after he started. 

"Here's your fucking sticks kid." He says, shoving a set of drumsticks into some snobby kids hands. The man scoffs with a retort. 

"I paid for the ones you used tonight. These ones are brand new." 

Bakugou narrows his eyes at him, leaning in close as if you share a secret but he speaks at a normal volume. His face suddenly changing to a cocky, knowing smirk. 

"Guess I broke tonight's pair kid. Tough fucking luck."

He sits in his normal spot, away from others. Pulling you onto his lap, reminding the room that he was taken. 

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[oikawaplssteponme]

locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

~

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

~

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[saxxxology]

Freedom | oneshot

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader WORD COUNT: 2,446 WARNINGS: spoilers for “Inherit the Earth,” character death, drinking to cope, minor trauma processing, smut, post-sex feels, stress/anxiety NOTE: This fic is set post 15x19 - ���Inherit the Earth.” Do not save or repost my work without my consent. This work is 18+ only.

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“So we’re free.”

Sam glances up, casting his eyes over the rim of his beer bottle to where you’re perched on the edge of the counter. Legs slightly parted under the hem of your knee-length nightshirt, back slouched, eyes boring into him like you can see right through his skin and into his soul.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Chuck’s gone, Jack’s… doin’ his thing, I guess. There’s nobody calling the shots for us anymore.”

You hum, tipping back your bottle of vodka to take a long swallow. The clear alcohol burns your throat, and you let out a sigh that turns warm in your chest. “Where’s Dean?”

“Holed up in his room.” Sam swipes his tongue over his teeth. “He hasn’t really been able to process Cas, I figured we could give him a few days.”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly and raise the bottle to your lips again. “Fuckin’ Cas, man.”

“I know.” Sam chuckles. “He was one of the good ones.”

You nod in agreement. “I’ll second that.”

There’s a long silence, interrupted only by the dull clink of glass on metal, the swish of liquid in an almost-empty glass, and a repetitive shuffle of paper as Sam flips absentmindedly through a two-day-old newspaper.

“How are you?” you ask, eager to break the quiet. Sam’s eyes flicker up to you once again, and you shift a little on the counter. “I’m just asking because you haven’t said much since we got back.”

Sam tightens his lips and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know, really. I feel numb. Like, I don’t know if it just hasn’t hit yet, but… yeah, I feel numb.” He rolls his shoulders back and downs the rest of his beer in a single swallow.

“Same here.” You sniff, screwing the cap back onto the tall vodka bottle and setting it aside. “I’m so tired of it. Dean said Cas died and I felt nothing.”

“You’re in shock,” Sam excuses, “and we’ve been dealing with so much shit, we can’t process all of it at once. Cas deserves to be… he deserves for us to grieve for him, without thinking about anything else.”

You chew on your lower lip, surveying him as he rubs his forehead with one hand. He’s tense, the relief of having Chuck gone only half-there. All three of you are used to things being too good to be true, only for shit to hit the fan right after you’ve booked a beach vacation or a weekend in Vegas.

But hell, you deserve to take a little bit of this newfound freedom for granted. Besides, it’s been a while since you had the time or energy to get laid. Sam’s hot, you’re needy… one night of not considering fallout from anything might be nice.

“Sam?”

“Hmm?”

You take a quick breath, leaning back to brace one hand just behind your hip. “If I asked you to fuck me, would you?”

He stiffens, unable to keep his gaze from drifting over to you. He looks beat; tired and lost and just a little scared of the world. For a second you regret asking, thinking he might just say no and get to blame it all on the alcohol.

“I…” he blows air through his lips as pink stains his cheeks. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” You speak a little too soon, as your focus begins to drift and you blink twice to clear your vision. “Well, maybe not enough.”

“No, don’t drink any more.” Sam stands up, abandoning his empty bottle on the table as he shuffles over to you. The toes of his boots drag on the polished concrete floor; he’s so cautious about it, like he’s scared to indulge in something other than people prying him for answers or questions. He hates selfishness, and taking this, taking you… it’ll be the ultimate self-indulgence that he may or may not come out of feeling like he deserved it.

“You scared of me?” you tease, tipping your head back as he leans a hip against the side of the counter.

“Never.” He chuckles softly. “You really okay? You want this?”

You lick your lower lip. “Am I ever okay?”

“That’s true.” He sighs heavily, raking his eyes down the column of your neck, over your nipples pressing through the dark blue fabric of your shirt, your stomach, the rise of your thighs, and then right back up to yours…

It’s like he’s a virgin all over again, you think to yourself. He needs a little help getting into it.

You reach for his hand. He lets you take it, guiding his fingers under the hem of your nightshirt. The tips of his fingers are still cold, chilly from his beer, and you shiver a little when he guides them against the inside of your thigh, creeping closer and closer to your core.

He inhales sharply through his nose when his fingers slip against the smooth, warm lips of your pussy. Your thighs part a little more, and you let out a little sigh when he takes the lead, nudging the tip of his index finger down into wet heat.

“Why are you not wearin’ any panties?” he asks.

You arch an eyebrow. “Why are you questioning it?”

He chuckles, bracing his free hand on the metal countertop next to your hip, and slips his fingers a little farther into your folds. You shimmy a little to encourage him, and he lowers his head, the tip of his nose pressing against your cheek to nudge your head back.

He kisses you hungrily, humming against your lips as you reciprocate eagerly. You can taste the beer on his lower lip, and he deepens the kiss, licking into your mouth as his fingers explore deeper between your legs. He finds your clit, targeting smooth, gentle rolls over it as your hand wanders over the front of his jeans.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, “please, Sam, I need you.”

He growls, stepping quickly between your thighs. “Not here.”

He scoops you up, striding towards the steps and feeling his way into the hall. You wrap your legs around his waist. The door to his bedroom is open, and you giggle when he kicks it shut, lips still glued to yours. He lowers you to the ground, waiting for you to stand still before running his hands under the fabric of your nightshirt.

“Get this off,” he murmurs, stripping it roughly over your head and tossing it to the floor. He palms your tits, thumbs rubbing over your nipples, and you arch into the sensation, pulling at the buttons of his flannel, popping each metal clasp until he can shrug it off. He cups your face with both hands, pushing his hips closer as you tug at his belt. His jeans fall to the ground with a dull thud, leaving him in just a pair of navy blue boxers.

He pulls back when you slide a hand into the waistband of his boxers, wrapping your fingers around the hard length of his dick. His pelvis jerks into your touch, and you grin up at him, stretching up onto your toes to claim his mouth in a deep, dirty kiss.

“Condom,” he whispers, “in the nightstand—”

“No,” you reply breathlessly, “I’m on the pill.”

Sam smirks, his hands sliding down to grope your ass. “That works, too.”

He kisses you hard, lifting you up just enough to dump you on the bed. He crawls over you eagerly, reaching down to stroke himself, and you whimper when the thick tip drags through your folds.

He sinks inside with a loud sigh, fisting his cock to push deeper as you squirm underneath him. Your knees fall open, giving him as much room as possible, and his hand falls beside your waist to brace when he gets himself deep enough to thrust comfortably.

Your nails dig into his hips on the first deep, desperate grind. He hisses at the sting and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips, panting hard as he thrusts into a rhythm that has the frame of his bed shuddering under the force.

He feels like heaven. Thick and hot and hard as his belly slides against yours, skin already dotted with sweat. His hand comes up to cup your face, fingers curling against your hair as his lips dot a line down your throat, over your chest, and then wrap around a swollen nipple. Your head falls back against a pillow, and you plant your toes firmly against the mattress for leverage. He grunts when you push up against him, allowing him to move even deeper inside until he bottoms out.

“Stay right there,” he mutters. He heaves himself up in one smooth motion, eyes locking on your face as he drops his entire weight into his thrusts. The loud slap of flesh on flesh echoes through the room, and you’re unable to stop your gasps and moans when you feel the ache of it. He grabs your wrists when you try and touch him, pinning them down on either side of your head, and you let out a long sigh of his name that earns a feral growl in reply. The roll of his hips changes when you squeeze around him, deep scoops that have your belly clenching.

“Oh my God, don’t stop,” you breathe, “make me cum, baby, please…”

“That’s the fuckin’ plan.” Sam dips his head to kiss you, and you wiggle playfully in his grip, the tease only making his fingers curl tighter. “You need to touch yourself?”

“No.” You catch a breath when he pauses, lips feather light against yours. “Just keep movin’ like that.”

He chuckles, shifting his weight for balance before resuming the same delicious, expert strokes. His eyes drift down your body until they land between your legs, and he groans at the sight of his cock plunging in and out of your cunt, shiny with your slick.

“Yeah, that’s it, honey,” he murmurs, “c’mon and cum for me.”

You push up against his thrusts, mouth falling open as the hot skin above his dick rubs against your clit. You’re almost there, you can feel it brimming in the pit of your belly, and when Sam’s thrusts turn into hard, bestial shoves, you spiral into bliss, convulsing between Sam’s body and the mattress as he fucks you through it. His grip on your wrists loosens, and you wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, dragging him down on top of you. He slows, then stops, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to press a lazy kiss to your cheek.

“Good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly, “you didn’t—”

He stops you with a kiss. “I will. C’mere.”

He rolls onto his back, keeping you close with an arm looped around your waist. You situate yourself on top of him, eyes falling closed as your head spins.

“Whoa, there,” he chuckles, “here, baby, put your hands right here.”

“I know how to ride a dick, dummy.” You arch your back, leaning forward far enough to brace your palms over his shoulders, tits just inches away from his kiss-swollen lips. He huffs, fingers splaying out on your hips as you begin to ride him, rolling your hips and bouncing down on his cock. He grunts, mouth opening in a soft O, and you moan when he gives an instinctive little push of his hips, meeting you halfway as you find your own rhythm.

“Fuck,” he moans, craning his neck to lap his tongue against one nipple. You pull back before he can get a real taste, scraping your nails over his chest as you work him harder, faster, until his soft pants and grunts turn into full-fledged moans.

He cums with a strangled groan, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. You keep moving, giggling when he arches and bucks underneath you, breathing high in his throat as he crosses the brink from pleasure to overstimulation. Unable to take any more, he pushes you off with a hoarse laugh, and you collapse beside him, giggling with your lower lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, I needed that,” you sigh, turning your head to gaze at him.

“Me too.” He stretches one arm under your head, allowing you to scoot close into his side and rest your cheek against his chest. His heart is a steady beat, thumping slower and slower as his body calms, and you tip your head back to kiss under his jaw. He smiles, allowing his eyes to flutter closed, and skims his thumb over your shoulder.

You lie together in silence for a long time, calming down with soft kisses and touches. You’re the one to break the silence, running a hand over a small scar on his opposite shoulder.

“I don’t know why we never did this before,” you comment.

“Me either.” Sam kisses you tenderly. “It was good.”

You sigh against his lips, gazing up into his eyes as an ache suddenly builds in your throat. “Cas died.”

He nods slowly, exhaling long and slow through his nose. “Yeah. You wanna talk?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

“Tell you what.” Sam props himself on one elbow, leaning down to nuzzle your shoulder. “How about we take a shower, put something on the TV, we can take our time.”

“Uh… yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice steady. “You go ahead.”

Sam gives you a soft, sad smile. “Don’t take too long, ‘kay?”

“I won’t.” You let your head roll back onto a pillow and close your eyes. “I just… I need to cry for a few minutes and I wanna be alone.”

He clicks his tongue and grazes his fingers over your cheek. “All right. I’ll save some hot water for you.”

“Don’t steal it all.”

“I won’t.” He kisses your cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You sigh deeply. “I know. Go on, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” He slides out of bed, and you watch him tread slowly to the door and disappear into the hallway. Rolling onto your side, you bury your face against his pillow, sucking in a deep, shuddering breath and holding it.

Your strokes of luck lately have been too good to be true, and there’s a weight in your stomach that usually only means one thing. All the big, heavy-hitting players are gone. It’s just you, Sam, and Dean now, left alone to form your own little path in the world for the first time ever. It’s terrifying.

Shit’s going to hit the fan, and when it does, this time, it’ll be the worst thing to happen to you.

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[silverhandsamurai]

Heat • River Ward/Fem!V • NSFW

warnings; nsfw, minor swearing, sexual content 

summary; River needs a comforting touch V helps out.

Setting; postgame • dating a while

River had been short-tempered all day. His latest case was driving him up the wall. Countless leads leaving him empty-handed. Wanting to distract him I offered to take him out to lunch at the Chubby Buffalo. 

Not even a minute after our food arrived he was twirling his fork looking off into the distance.

" So I finally finished that gig in Watson today."

" Uh-huh."

" I danced on the moon."

" Uh-huh."

He wasn't paying attention at all. I didn't truly mind I knew he was working hard doesn't mean I wouldn't tease him about his lack of attention.

"So River mind helping me rob Arasaka and Militech of all their secrets?"

" Uh-huh."

I gave a sudden laugh jarring River from his thoughts as he suddenly held his fork a little too tightly and looked at me wide-eyed.

"Really officer? You'll help me steal? How sweet of you."

Heaving a sigh River leaned back giving me an apologetic look.

"Sorry. This case just has me going crazy."

I shook my head and reached across the table to take his free hand in my mine and lace our fingers together. " Hey, I get it. No need to explain. Happens to everyone. "

Relief flashed across his face and he gave my hand a soft squeeze. " You are amazing you know that?"

"Oh, I know. Keep goin' tell me more." 

I chimed grinning back at him playfully.  He hummed in thought for a moment before taking a sip of his drink. " Nah. Got nothin' more to say." 

I felt another laugh bubble up at his cheeky rebuttal. 

Finally calming down for a moment River started to eat his meal as he listened to me give all the fun details I had from dealing with my last gig.

We parted ways after lunch and I didn't hear from him until I got a message late in the evening.

It was really short and odd.

Hotel. Room 202.

He then sent another message with the hotel address attached.

Wasn't like River at all. 

I knew something was wrong.

Arriving at the hotel it was in the middle of the city. Not too fancy, but not rundown either. I walked through the lobby and no one was at the front desk so I just headed for the stairs checking each room number with a glance.

Once I found the right one I gave it a few solid knocks. 

I heard rustling on the other side of the door. Rocking back on my heels nervously I felt my mind racing as I waited for River to answer the door. 

Finally, it slid open to reveal him standing there looking as restless as I felt. " What the hell happened?" He shook his head and stepped aside to let me in. Confused I walked in and after the door closed I spun on my heel to glare at him. I was worried and he wasn't saying anything.

" Talk. You are seriously this close to- " Before I could say he was pissing me off River had slammed his mouth on mine and his hands were holding my hips firm.

Damn...he felt good. 

But as much as I wanted to give in to him I wanted answers first.

Reluctantly I pulled away nipping at his bottom lip as he hooked his grip under my thighs and lifted me. My legs naturally wrapped around his waist and my hands clutched his shirt.

" The client dropped the case. All that work was for nothing. " 

I could hear the anger and disappointment in his tone. I knew how much River prided himself on his work ethic and what being a private investigator meant to him. He always put everything into all his cases. Hours of effort and time. To have one of those cases suddenly ripped away was torture.

I knew then why he had messaged me.

River was seeking comfort and I was more than happy to provide it.

Tugging on his shirt I kissed him roughly.

Soon clothes fell left and right until no barrier stood between us.

Reaching out for him I slide down his body as he leaned back against the wall. My hands and tongue flowed along the curve of his hips edging lower. His breath halted and his hands were fast to grip my hair holding me still. He was pulsing filled with heat against my tongue as I eased him past my lips. 

It was hard not to have my throat tighten. 

He was thick and overwhelming.

I couldn't breathe...

I didn't care...

Deeper I pushed him drinking up his scolding touch. Even though I was in his grip it was my every move that was making him arch to my mercy.

It felt powerful having this man rendered helpless against me. 

A lick here or there. He was trembling.

His hands would rake through my hair making my scalp sting. 

" Fuck, V..."

His sudden raspy curse sent shivers down my spine. River's voice was huskily laced with a dripping want. River yanked me back suddenly causing pain to course throughout my head as his hold was unforgiving and aggressive.

I had pushed him close to the edge and he wasn't ready to fall yet. 

Instantly I was frustrated that he had stopped me. My body was craving his touch so I leaned towards him as he towered above me.

" Give me more.." A plead and a command. I was begging, but also demanding for him to take me.  River pulled me up by my hair then captured my lips silently giving in to my request.

His tongue thrust into my mouth.

Long, thick, and warm.

Filling my mouth.

Claiming it. 

Letting me taste and savor him.

He pushed and I pulled a power play. My hands were rough as I held him against the wall forcing him to submit. This taste. This touch.

 I needed more I needed to feel engulfed by it. 

Hunger surrounding me swallowing me in its embrace I leaned back falling into the bed beckoning with a wave of my hand for him to follow. His stance tensed and his jaw locked as he stalked forward the tension rippling off his skin as he edged to the bed. 

Such a large man unraveling within my grasp. Yearning for me with such need that just by looking at him I could see how much he wanted me.

The sight made me squeeze my thighs together as the ache inside me grew.

"Come here closer....hurry..."

I knew how desperate I sounded but I didn't care I needed to feel him right away. River answered without a word his lips on mine again. Gasping I could feel all of him. 

His touch. 

His heat. 

The pressure made my toes curl and my thighs shake as I gripped clawing at his back. It was burning this craving ache making me succumb to its whims.

Groaning deeply in my ear I knew River felt it too. Unbound tension building.  

It wasn't enough. 

Pushing using my weight I shoved River beneath me.  My hands gliding to his neck gripping tight forcing his focus on me. My back arched as I sank down on him my hands becoming talons as I ran my nails into his skin. 

Marking him as he did me.

River was biting his lip hard as his hands set firmly on my hips weighing me down. Anchoring me to him. I resisted pushing against his touch my hips dancing on their own.

My breath grew shallow as I felt my sweat become liquid heat along my hips licking at my sore muscles. I leaned forward losing some of my strength as my legs trembled.

The ache and need inside I couldn't reach it anymore. 

Begging River with just a look my eyes reflecting my inner struggle he was quick to act. His strong arms held me as he pushed up reaching far into my depths. My voice left me as my back hit the sheets. Powerful long strokes. Grinding me into the bed.

I was helpless my strength spent as my hands were barely able to hold onto his shoulders. He kept going supporting me never relenting.

The ache was like hot water now washing over me. Numbing me and burning me at the same time.

"River...please..."

Whimpers melded into moans as our voices entangled together. Every movement of River dulled the ache burning inside. Surrendering myself bliss took over soon as my mind and body felt engulfed. 

River's hands pried into my skin as I felt him yield to the same bliss.

His voice was raw as he held himself over me sweat falling down his brow.

So strong and wild.

I smiled fondly at him before kissing his breathless lips softly as he drifted down from his high. Pulling back I ran my thumb over River's swollen bottom lip and his dark and hazy eye followed my motions silently. 

Locking my eyes with his River gave me a warm smile as he caressed my waist.

" At this point, there is no hope for me now "

Tilting my head in confusion I eased into the bed lazily " What are you talking about?"

River let out a chuckle as he trailed kisses along my arm. " You told me not to fall in love with you, but every moment I spend with you I just keep falling more and more."

"Well, officer seems I'm guilty of the same crime. "

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

Was requested a nsfw piece for River so here it is. 

[funtimebunnyblog]

I love how you wrote the s/o who struggles to stand up for herself 🥺 it was really good! I thought of something to build off of that if that’s alright with you. What if someone tried striking the pillar men’s very sweet and unconfrontational s/o? Maybe s/o did something as minor as accidentally bumping into someone. When they sheepishly try to apologize that person gets angry and tries to punch/slap s/o. Oh how I love protective pillar men 🥰

Thank you so much, Anon! 🥰😍❤ You're too sweet! It always makes my day to hear when someone likes my work! 😇😇😇

Oh boy, big protective Pillarmen? The absolute best kind of Pillarmen??? You got it, honey! 😘

Pillarmen (separate) protecting their non-confrontational s/o from being struck...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Admittedly, Kars wasn't very "confrontational" himself.

• In his own way, of course.

• He thought fighting with someone for no good reason (or any reason at all really) was as meaningless as it was laughable.

• If someone ever approached him and tried to initiate a violent confrontation by hurling insults at him or even going so far as to hit him; he would simply roll his eyes and walk away.

• He had much better things to do than stoop to some foolish Mortals level.

• You both were best described as "two sides of the same spectrum" seeing as how you had the tendency to go out of your way to avoid conflict with anyone.

☆

"Oh! I-I'm so sorry!" You cried, stepping away from the large and scowling man who now bared an expression that was something borderline feral. His glare sent a knife straight through your heart, puncturing your lungs and leaving you gasping for air as anxiety washed over you.

You had been walking down the street, your shift had ended and you were heading to meet up with Kars at your usual meeting spot just around the corner. You had talked about going to go get something to eat or at least being Home to have tonight and you were focused on just getting there. The sooner you reached your Husband, the sooner you could go Home and put your feet up after a long work day.

Those plans suddenly got thrown out the window when a man rounded the corner the same time you had.

When you collided with him, it caused him to drop the iced-coffee he had been clutching in his hand; the majority of it even spilled on you, staining your workshirt and pants, and yet you were the only one apologizing here.

"You stupid BITCH!" The stranger snapped, advancing on you as he jabbed his finger angrily at the now empty plastic cup lying in the sad brown puddle pooling on the sidewalk. "I just got that! It cost me 5-fucking-dollars!"

You really were sorry! You really didn't mean to make him drop his coffee! Panic flooded your body and burned in you like a fire, the flames of it only fueled more by his loud voice, making your hands quiver as you instinctively reached for your wallet.

"Here! I'll pay for it!" You said quickly, trying to something, anything to placate the angry man before things got even more intense. "I'll-- I'll even pay for a new one!"

He, however, was all but pacified.

Your offer was cut short by the surly stranger full on grabbing you by the collar of your coffee stained shirt; you let out a strangled yelp as he hauled you far too close for comfort. You could feel his hot breath hitting your face and your stomach dropped, sinking like a stone going down to the depths of the Ocean upon seeing the unquenchable inferno shimmering in his narrowed eyes.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that and a lot more, bitch." He snarled, drawing his hand way back.

Your eyes instinctively snapped shut as his free hand swung towards you, hard and fast your, your hands flying up on pure impulse alone in an attempt to shield you from the blow that was to come...

But it never came.

After too long of a moment, much longer than the hit should've taken, your eyes opened to find the mans large hand still poised in the air.

It was now gripped by a much larger one.

Kars' brow was knit together, his gaze sharp enough to draw blood as he scowled down at the offending man who still had a hand on you; his Wife. He had been waiting for you just around the corner. He had heard everything that had happened and had definitely seen more than enough.

His grip was so tight on the mans arm you could see circulation being cut off. Any tighter (that being; using his only half of his maximum strength) and he would without a doubt shatter the bone of the mans arm completely.

He was only holding back on doing so for your sake.

You were frightened enough as it was and Kars wanted to spare you any further horror by holding back on destroying this disgusting excuse of a lifeform... just for today.

"Let. Her. Go." His voice was low and fridged, the words slithering through the teeth that were clenched like a vice in his mouth.

There wasn't even a trace of anger to be found in the mans face anymore; like a slate wiped clean. His face had gone stark white and his eyes bulged in their sockets as he stared at the God before him; not unlike a deer staring into the headlights of a car coming 80km/hr toward it.

The car that would kill it in one singular, instantaneous hit.

The hand released from your collar, leaving behind a stretched imprint of his clenched fingers on the fabric. The very second you were released, the Pillarman hauled the stranger roughly into the air by his arm, his feet dangling over a foot above the pavement.

Kars' lips peeled back into a snarl, fangs glimmering like knives of ivory in the light. If looks could kill the man (who was now whimpering not unlike a kicked puppy) would be getting slaughtered.

"If you know what's good for you, Human. You will get out of my sight." Came the command, this time the man could now feel the hot breath of the seething Pillarman on his own face. "Now."

A shaky nod was the best the man could manage.

Without another word, Kars dropped him and the stranger practically hit the ground running. Taking off down the street as fast as his shaking legs could take him, stumbling as he nearly fell several times; the only thing preventing him from doing so was pure adrenaline.

You barely had a chance to blink, let alone process all that just happened, when Kars was on you.

The Pillarman pulled you into his embrace, uncaring that you were practically drenched in coffee and still quivering like a beached jellyfish. His eyes roamed your body, checking for any injuries he somehow missed; he let out a breath you hadn't realized he had been holding before his lips found the crown of your head, his arms tightening around you.

"Beloved, my beloved... he is gone now. Shh. Shh." He murmured into your hair. It was only then, when he swiped his calloused thumbs over your cheeks, you realized you were crying.

"Let's go home, dear one." He said after a long moment of simply holding you in his arms and shushing you, allowing you time to get your nerves somewhat under control. "I'll make dinner tonight and we'll see if we can do anything about that stain..."

Esidisi:

• Esidisi laughed in the face of conflict of all kinds.

• Really, fighting with someone with reason or not was just something funny to him because he knew his moves (by tongue and by combat) could not be matched.

• If someone tried to initiate a fight with him, he'd just chuckle and cock an eyebrow.

• If he was bored (which was most likely), he'd have the greatest time simply toying with them; laughing and grinning as they attempted to hurt him.

• Sometimes he'd even enjoy giving them a good scare by doing something with his powers.

• If not however, he'd simply scoff and walk right past them.

• Other than that, he actually tried to stay out of any sort of conflict when you were around; he didn't want you to be involved or hurt, of course.

☆

It wasn't often you went out to a club but every so often you and Esidisi would take the time out of your busy life to get dressed up and go out for a few drinks and a dance together as a treat.

You left the ladies room with a smile, lipstick reapplied and your appearance straightened up a little. You looked around as you made your way through the scene, searching the crowded floor for your Husband to catch another dance or two with him before retiring Home for the night.

You stepped back in surprise when a man cut you off halfway across the room, a drink in hand and a tipsy smile pulling across his face.

"Hey there," he drawled, trying to be casual. "You're cute. You wanna dance?"

You smiled sadly; you had to admit, the gesture was kind of funny and sweet. Had you need single you probably would've agreed.

"Thank you, but I'll pass." Really, you had no interest in dancing with a stranger in a place like this when all of your dances were already happily taken by your one and only.

You were about to offer to buy him another drink or even just settle with just chatting with him for a while (a friend was always nice to find in these places) but the man didn't exactly appreciate your answer, despite the fact it had been polite and straightforward.

"Uh, excuse me?" He all but spat, his face souring into a frown. "Why not?"

You couldn't help but blink in surprise, taken aback at his sudden turn of character.

"Oh-- Uh... well, I'm here with--"

"Oh, that's bullshit!" He cried, cutting you off. "You just don't wanna dance with me!"

You grimaced, holding your hands up in a placating gesture as you backed away from him, trying to keep some distance between you two as he tried to close it by advancing.

The man continued to rant and rave, growling about how there was absolutely no reason for you to refuse him a dance and that he was a perfectly nice guy and a good dancer, not pacified in the slightest.

You were becoming aware of just how very drunk this man was and he was only getting increasingly angry with you by the second. Each time you sheepishly tried to explain yourself you were cut off and it only seemed to get him more and more riled up.

You REALLY didn't want to deal with this on a fun night out. Hell, you didn't like confrontations like this in general.

"Listen, I've gotta go--" You were cut off again, gasping as the drunk stranger grabbed you by the arm just as you started to shuffle away to try and merge in the crowd again to disappear from his sight and pretend this interaction never happened; his grip was rough and unrelenting.

The room was starting to spin; the lights, the music, the chatter was suddenly far too much, drowning you in a static of fear and confusion. The man was snarling something out at you but you couldn't hear it over all the kerfuffle.

Your vision hyperfocused on the bottle the man had in hand; lifting high over his head, swinging down in slow motion.

The bottle never hit its mark as it was suddenly plucked from the strangers grasp.

In a fraction of a second, the man was now grabbed by his free hand and spun around. You opened your eyes to find him in the grip of Esidisi, your one and only dance partner and Husband.

"Looking for a dance partner, are we?" He questioned the now gawking drunk.

Esidisi had been waiting for you where you had left him at the bar. Being as tall as he was he saw you leaving the restroom and decided to meet you halfway across the dance floor; however, he stopped short as he saw your little confrontation happening. After giving you a good once over to ensure you weren't hurt, thankfully you were just a little shaken, he inclined his head over to the bar for you to sit and calm down while he handled this situation.

The massive man full on grinned down at the drunk man in his grip, giving him a good spin around before pulling him in close. Just as he pressed him straight against his muscular body in an iron grip; the song shifted, hot and base blasted music blaring through the speakers of the club.

"In that case, you're in luck!" He chirped, chuckling at the strangers owlish expression. "I was just looking for a good dance partner myself and I happened to overhear you talking with my Wife."

The drunk man gulped, through his potent mixture of intoxication and fear he didn't miss the fact that Esidisi's grip tightened just the slightest bit more as he took care to emphasize on the word "Wife". The stranger let out a strangled yelp that went unheard by the rest of the dancing crowd as Esidisi strutted to the music, dragging him along. Any protests on your attackers part went ignored by Esidisi and fully unheard by anyone else over the intense beats ringing through the club.

Your Husband winked at you over his shoulder, bringing you some small sense of relief as you felt your fear start to slowly drop down from it's sky-high level and you made yourself comfortable on a stool to watch him and the drunk stranger.

If the man had wanted to dance so bad, bad enough to threaten you and try to inflict harm, Esidisi fully intended on giving him the dance he craved.

He was gonna dance with him until he dropped...

Wamuu:

• As any Warrior should be, Wamuu was indeed confrontational.

• However, his confrontation was only to an extent, per say.

• Like his Masters, he generally did his best to try and avoid conflict with a Mortal.

• If someone simply walked up to him and struck him he would simply stare down at them with a raised eyebrow, honestly amused.

• The hit would probably tickle the living giant rather than inflict pain on him.

• On the other hand, if that Mortal happened to cross a line verbally by deeply insulting him or plucking a nerve somehow, he was fully willing to duel them to the death.

• He was always willing to fight for you; regardless of the situation.

• He was basically your knight in shining armor for that reason.

☆

Working a 12 hour shift was always exhausting to you. Sometimes you couldn't tell what was worse; having a busy day full of orders or having a slow day where you saw almost nobody at all and were bored out of your own mind.

Today had been pretty steady, having boughts of people between lonely hours and thankfully, you were just 10 minutes until closing now. Your eyes glanced up to the clock on the wall, silently pleading for it to go just a little faster so you could close up fully for the night. Wamuu would be here soon to walk Home with you, he usually stopped at the Gym to get a work out in and kill some time before coming bye. Your walks Home with your loving Husband were the best part of your day, sharing stories and talking as you strolled arm in arm down the street.

You hadn't seen another customer in the past 2 hours so any cleaning or chores that needed to be done before the night was over was already done. You briefly considered starting to count up the till now so you could just leave as soon as you closed but that plan was quickly shunt aside when the door to the shop flung open, the bell overhead jangling loudly, and in stepped a customer. You resisted the urge to sigh, there was almost always someone who came in at the last minute and wanted a sandwich.

However, you put on your best smile as the man who came in approached the counter.

The mans face was already in a knot, he had huffy air of "I'm in a H U R R Y" about him and that alone was enough to make sweat prickle on the back of your neck. These kinds of customers could be the absolute worst, even more so at closing, and you prayed he would order something easy so you could close up tonight without tears in your eyes from being yelled at again by someone.

"Good evening," you chimed, smoothing out your apron as you set your hands on the counter. "What can I get you?"

"One meatball sub, white cheese, on Italian." He told you rather shortly, drumming his fingers on his arm.

A lump swole in your throat as you turned your gaze to the very empty meatball tray sitting across the counter.

Oh boy, here we go...

You sucked in a deep breath, your smile unfaltering. "Oh, um--... I'm sorry but we're all out of meatball. Can I get--"

"Then make more." He said curtly, his finger drumming only increasing as he full on glared at you. He also made sure to visibly roll his eyes as if you had said something completely and utterly stupid.

"I'm sorry, that's not possible." You told him, trying not to let your voice go down to the squeak it wanted to. "We're closing in 5 minutes and cooking more up--"

"Ugh, I don't care!" He growled. "I don't have all night, just make it!"

You were starting to shiver as he got louder and louder, "Sir, we close at 7. I can't, it's against policy, I can only make more tomorrow morni--"

You jumped as the man suddenly lunged and a yelp managed to escape your lips when his hand gripped around the strap of your apron, pulling you roughly over the counter.

"Listen to me, you dumb CUNT," He snarled, his grip tightening hard enough you could hear threads snapping in your apron. "Make the damn sandwich so I can fucking go Home! I don't fucking care about your policy! I want my meatball sub!"

You were breathing hard, your throat squeezing shut as he growled lowly into your face. Never once had a customer gotten this violent with you, not even on a shift where you were with someone else. Everything was becoming consumed in static, your heartbeat in your ears as you floundered to find something, ANYTHING, to say to get him to let go.

"I-- I--..." it was the only thing that could come out of your mouth.

Unfortunately, it wasn't what this man wanted to hear and it only infuriated him further.

He was screaming at you now, screaming so loud you couldn't understand him, only making you start to cry as you stood helplessly in his unrelenting grasp.

Like lightning, the mans fist curled and swung your way.

He would've made a clear slug across your jaw if a much bigger fist hadn't clenched around it, stopping it mid-air.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, stumbling and catching yourself on the counter before you could fall to the tiled floor. You looked up in shock to find none other than Wamuu gripping your attacker with one huge fist by the front of his shirt, making the man dangle in the air.

"You seem to misunderstand what my beloved here was trying to explain to you." The Warrior growled, the veins in his neck pulsing as he glowered down at the man who's expression had now turned to one of terror. "Normally, I would overlook ill-mannered Humans such as yourself but you have made a very grave mistake tonight by, not only disrespecting, but touching my dear Bride."

The man opened his mouth to say something, probably to apologize or to tell the massive man he would leave and never come back but the words didn't so much as reach his tongue.

Wamuu flung him across the room, as effortlessly as one would swat away a buzzing fly, and the man crash landed into the tables in the corner; knocking them over like a bowling ball would pins.

"You have 3 seconds to get out before I throw you farther!" Wamuu snapped, taking one step towards the man laying in the entanglement of fallen chairs and tables.

The man clamored to his feet before Wamuu could come another step closer, somehow limping and running towards the door and out of the building.

As instantaneous as that fight, Wamuu was over the counter and kneeling by you, cupping your face in his hands. You were still crying, curled in on yourself where the man had grabbed you and shaking like a leaf in a bitter Fall wind.

"My dear sweet little one, shhh... shh.. it is alright." Your Husband crooned, pulling you into an embrace so gentle it seemed almost impossible coming from him after such a display.

You only cried harder, burying your face in his neck as all your nerves finally let loose. Wamuu held you in his arms for a good long while, he made sure to turn the closed sign however before anymore unwanted customers could come in for tonight.

He fully planned on speaking to your manager about this and your safety here from now on...

Santana:

• Santana wasn't confrontational unless given no other option.

• Chances were, if someone tried to pick a fight with him (whether by verbal abuse or physical violence) he would simply walk away, not interested in the slightest.

• It was almost as if they were invisible to him.

• If they tried to strike, he could just make their body phase right through his like nothing or his body would just go to rubber right around their limb.

• He was never really in the mood to fight with a primitive unless they TRULY annoyed him.

• More often when that happened they would be come dinner.

• But if someone tried to start a confrontation with you; he'd be the one to end it.

☆

"Oh yes!" You breathed a sigh of relief when you grabbed a hold of the roast sitting all by itself on the refrigerated shelf, a small triumphant smile curling at the corners of your mouth.

You honestly feared they'd be fresh out, you were having some Family over this Holiday weekend and needed this for the dinner you planned on preparing for when they came. This time of year it was hard to get a hold of good stuff at the supermarket as shoppers tended to all share similar traditions and that meant they also shared similar meal ideals.

You couldn't be more lucky you got your hands on the last one, lest you'd have to drive to the other supermarket across town to continue your search and most likely be disappointed there too.

You had sent Santana off with the list and cart to grab the other stuff you needed while you headed for this important item first. Now all you had to do was track down your Husband and drop this into your little cart so you could be one step closer to going Home to prep.

With the roast in arm, you started off.

"Hey!"

Someone shouted from down the isle but you barely even paid attention to it, chances were someone was arguing with a worker or another customer (as things like that also had the tendency to happen this time of year); another reason you wanted nothing more than to get your groceries and get out of the store.

Watching two customers duke it out over food and menial things was probably as uncomfortable as being part of the fight... at least in your eyes anyways.

"Hey stop!"

Once again the sound of the shouting fell on deaf ears as you kept walking, about to round a corner into another isle on your sojourn for your mate. Santana was most likely somewhere around the frozen foods section, he had asked if he could pick out some icecream for the weekend earlier in the car.

You stopped short when somebody grabbed you harshly by your arm, yanking you hard enough to spin you around. You actually let out a yelp in surprise, your eyes snapping down to the well manicured nails that were digging into the flesh of your arm. Your gaze instinctively followed the hand all the way up the arm connected to it, until you found yourself meeting the intense glare of the woman grabbing you.

"I told you to stop!" She snarled, your owlish expression not hindering any of her obvious anger from spewing out. "You took the last roast!"

She pointed accusingly at the hunk of wrapped meat cradled in your other arm with a long manicured nail.

You blinked, a brief sweat was starting to form underneath your clothing as your skin burned hot, crawling under the woman's hand; you wanted her off of you but she wouldn't let go.

"I-- Well, yes there was only one left--" you began, trying your best to explain yourself (let alone get a grip on your spiking nerves) only to be cut off.

"Well, I need it!" The woman tried to reach for it but you pulled away, only to be pulled back by her; nails pinching your skin like needles. "Give it to me right now! I need it more than you do!"

You tried to yank your arm from her grasp but she gripped you tight enough to make you cry out. There were so many things you wanted to say but couldn't as they just got jumbled in your squeezing throat; you had saw it first, you needed it too for a special dinner, there were plenty of other places she could go to find one.

You really didn't want to quarrel with this crazy stranger over something as stupid as a piece of raw food, in a supermarket of all places.

"Let go!" You plead, not even caring about the roast or your weekend dinner plans anymore. You just wanted her to leave you alone!

One of her hands raised, fingers curling as she swung it down with the intention of clawing you right across your face... but her nails didn't find skin this time.

The woman gasped as her own arm was grabbed, the shock of it made her release you from her grip, and in one good tug she was pulled straight away from you.

Her gaze followed the huge, ivory skinned hand that dwarfed her arm, following it until her eyes met two sapphires burning holes into her from underneath thick crimson eyebrows.

Santana huffed through his nose, "Do not touch my mate, primitive." He commanded quietly, an order not to be ignored, however the surly woman wasn't done yet.

As quickly as it was lost, the scowl returned to her face and it was now directed onto Santana the youngest of the Pillarmen; not only was he your Husband, he was the wrong person to pick a fight with.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!" She fumed, getting right in his face rather than making the more wise decision and backing down. "Let go of me!"

Santana stared at her, not fazed in the slightest as she began to full on rant on about how it was wrong for him to grab her and that she would report him for assault (as if she hadn't just been violently assaulting someone herself) and she of course went the extra mile to add that her Husband was someone very important and he would be arrested.

It only made her angry all the more as the Pillarman just stood there, quiet, the very definition of disinterest etched into the features of his face. He honestly didn't care about her ramblings as there was no petty threat she could possibly make that would scare him away.

Her free hand lifted again and it swung with the intention of slapping him right across his face.

As soon as skin was supposed to meet skin, skin passed right through skin.

Now, the woman's angry demeanor crumbled for good, staring in horror as her hand simply went right through his face. Her hand was implanted right in his cheek, literally melded inside of his head, only the tips of her long nails were visible from the back of Santana's neck. She was stuck there, trying to pull herself out of him, the terror gripping her heart was the only thing keeping her from screaming to high heaven.

Santana never once said or did anything as she did, watching as he pulled and pulled to no avail.

Her whimpers slowly built up to full on cries of fear, Santana fully intended on making her feel the same thing you had just gone through with her. It was only until she was begging for him to release her hand from his body did he finally relent.

The minute her hand was freed from his face she stumbled back, almost falling and clutching her wrist as she fled from the isle and the supermarket itself; no longer caring about the product she tried to rip from you.

Santana merely exhaled, watching her go with a notable twinkle in one of his eyes before turning his attention to you. You were still pretty shaken up, thankfully you hadn't dropped the roast but you were nursing the arm where she had grabbed you and the imprints of her nails in your skin she had left behind. Wordlessly, he walked up and pressed a soft kiss to the cheek that woman had almost scratched as he took the roast from you, putting it in the cart right next to the tub of ice cream.

"They have been dealt with," he said, his deep voice sending vibrations through your whole body as he pressed you close to him, wrapping his arms around you in a hug. "I will never allow anyone to harm you, my heart."

[thenightlymartini]

Asking again because your headcanons are *chefs kiss* and brighten up my day. So because I've been on a bodyguard trope kick lately, how would that trope play out with your ships?

Awww, thank you! Do you mind if I call you my chef's kiss anon?

Also, you single-handedly opened my third eye to this trope! Like how can one trope somehow fit all of my fav pairs so well?! And I love every single one of them so much that I want to write stories for them!?

Like I would sell my soul to anyone who does artwork about this trope with these pairs with no regrets.

Headcannon #64 - Bodyguard Trope (side note, these are in Human AU)

Kimchiburger: I've seen this go around quite a bit, but America as popstar!SK's bodyguard is so what I'm down for. I've done a few asks and headcannons surrounding that scenario, and I practically fell in love with it.

Like SK getting secretly flirty with his bodyguard? Totally scandalous? But so great! America getting flustered cause he's trying to do his job without feelings getting mixed up (too late on that front). Those two trying to keep a relationship on the down low when it could ruin both of their careers if it got out? There's the angst and danger I'm looking for!

Like SK could be a solo artist or in a group (maybe a co-ed group consisting of Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Philippines, and Japan and China are other solo artists in the same company) and his brother, NK, is the manager? Which just adds even more complexity and danger to their hidden romance?

RusNK: Like, NK is just a rich CEO's son and Russia is the hired bodyguard to deal with the heir to a conglomerate empire. Little did Russia know is that NK isn't going to make it easy. Like the Korean will do everything and go out of his way to make it difficult for Russia to keep him even in eyesight, much less do his job. Why so? Cause NK thinks he can handle himself and is dealing with family issues. Like his father likes his brother more and wants his younger twin to be the heir instead of him, despite getting top marks and trying to prove otherwise? And it makes it worse cause SK wants nothing to do with the company and wants to go his own way, thus causing more strain on NK and his relationship. Having a bodyguard is almost like a slap in the face from his father, because he thinks his father is just making sure the second option is available if the first isn't convinced in time. Add in a little more angst where he is also trying to come to terms with his attraction to men which also ties into the familial drama, and he is now supposed to let some hot Russian be his guard and not catch feelings, whether purely physical or something more?

Add in Russia (where he comes from a country where being openly gay is not socially acceptable) and his coming to terms with his sexuality with a good looking, college-aged Korean that he isn't supposed to feel that way about, both professionally and socially? Along with the slow burn of man this kid is so damn annoying and I just want to strangle him to I feel bad for the kid to I kind of admire this guy's spunk to maybe I like this guy in more than an admiring way to oh god, I think I like him what do I do.

Commieburger: I like the idea of the both of them being bodyguards to popstar!SK. They hate each other and have very different ways of doing their job. Like SK could have gotten a death threat due to a minor slip or some rabid fan trying to hug him while he's performing on stage and they would have very different ways of how to deal with the situation. America would be the calmer of the two and be forceful, but respectful to the fan, and then comfort SK when he gets depressed about it. NK would have flattened the fan with a punch if he was legally allowed to (so he just settles with being a lot more aggressive) and tell SK to buck up cause "you're not going to win everybody over, so don't let it get to you", but his actions would be kinder than his words towards SK cause of family relations (which America wouldn't find out until he accidentally overheard an argument between the two).

The catalyst to these two seeing each other differently is when both of their pride and stubbornness towards each other costs them a fan slipping through and grabbing SK, causing him to twist his ankle on stage and being forced to take a medical leave for a few weeks. Both of them were devastated that due to their bickering SK had to suffer. Like he's America's best friend, how could America let this happen? And he's NK's younger twin, how could he, as the older brother and bodyguard, fail to protect him? Like SK would never blame the two of them, and waves it off as "shit happens", but both of them take it rather personal. They never start pointing fingers and blaming the other, despite that being a tempting option, because both realize they themselves could have been the bigger man and prevent what happened, but they didn't. That fact alone is what makes them realize that the other isn't necessarily as bad as they thought, since, for once, they both were on the same page.

This then becomes slow burn of them gradually warming up to each other to then having the beginning bud of romance once they realize with quite the surprise that they are actually compatible together. Like their both competitive, but it works out in oddly positive ways? Like they challenge each other to who can bench press more or who can be more discreet about dealing with unwanted attention directed at SK. Or that they both have green thumbs after finding out they both were taking care of SK's plants when he wasn't looking, and they give each other tips on plants they themselves own. Or how their seemingly clashing personalities are actually good balances? Like America is super spontaneous and charismatic, and NK is more calculating and calm, but they figure out that by balancing both personalities they both get a lot done. Add in SK (who is oblivious when it comes to his romantic life, but never his brother's), slyly shipping them and prodding them together, despite the controversy and conflict of interest that could arise if this were found out by superiors. Like SK is so sly that both America and NK think they get together under their own terms when really SK may have had a hand or two in some key points.

[felassanis]

A hope on cliffs - Aruani

Ao3 Link + Fic under the cut:

Sunlight was spilling in through the nearby window. Pouring glowing, warm, and natural arrays of colours into the bedroom like the mosaic halls of a cathedral. Igniting their surroundings with the hues of a campfire’s flames; washing over their faces as the brightness slowly stirs them awake.

At some point during the night, their limbs had untangled and they slept on either edge of the bed. Annie slowly opened her eyes and was met with the brunt of the white wall, a minor deflation tugged at her chest from the boring sight. Then a soft breath tickled the back of her neck; the wispy, fresh scent of leather, from days spent suffering the tightness of the harnesses, saving her from complete disappointment. Then that woodsy smell he always got when he spent a day outside embraced her as she felt an arm curl around her sides. It reminded her of her garden back home, and she felt safe in his arms. And that odd ambrosial minty sweet smell he somehow possessed filled her nose as she turned over. Greeted by the picture perfect sight of Armin laying beside her.

His eyes were closed, but as she nestled closer to him the hint of a smile working its way on his lips gave away his act. She pressed her fingers over his wrist that was holding her waist, stroking his arm as she travelled along it to settle her fingers on his neck. Playing with the hairs that were there until he finally gave in and opened his eyes.

“Hey,” He murmured. His voice pleasantly tired, his fondness for her still being there conveyed through a delicate breath that made her stomach flip. His morning voice was truly something to behold...

Often when the dawn broke, Annie would collect her things and withdraw from his room without a peep. He hated this, she was fully aware, and it took a great deal out of her to fight the temptation to stay under the covers with him. But better she steal away than let any of the others in on this secret of theirs. This morning however, she felt differently.

“Hey you,” She hummed, trailing his jaw with the tip of her finger. The sensation made his handsome smile grow ever more, and she was in awe at how more defined his face had become. So much time had passed between them...so much wasted time...he was older, so was she. And yet she could hear the eerie tick-tock of her mortality in the background...

“Nice to see you're still here,” The sound of his voice keeps her delving anywhere too dark.

“Yeah, you too,” And she meant it. Still here, she was still here...enjoy it, Annie.

His eyes, now open, were unwavering in their navigation of her face. She knew that look. Could hear the machinations in that mind of his whir as he balanced on the line between staying where he was or kissing her. Looking for evidence that she would withdraw if he leaned in. She was never one for many words, so he always looked for silent confirmation. 

Annie made the decision for him. Leaning in close till their lips touched, grazing together softly which earned a pleasant sound from him as she slowly drew her fingers to the back of his head. Carding her nails through his hair which she knew he loved. His fingers dug into her hip, no doubt keeping her in bed with him. Less she climbed out and left him alone like she normally did. Still, she found herself smiling into his lips as she traced circles into her skin with his thumbs. Like he was conducting some kind of rune that would compel her to remain here forever. 

“Do we have anywhere we need to be this morning?” She asked, pulling away. Not entirely keen on keeping him from any duties he had. Even if she was tempted to steal him away from the others.

“None,” He breathed. Indeed, a tension seemed to have fled from his shoulders as he said this. Peace washes over him, breathing new life into him. A rare sight for sure that made her heart soar for him. And told her that he wasn’t lying.

“Good,” She shuffles closer, resting her head against the warmth of his chest. Her ears pressing just over his beating heart. “Because I want to stay like this for a while longer,”

“These are rare moments” His chin meets her head. “We should enjoy them,”

As usual, Armin was right. She had never stayed till the morning, and the air between them danced with endless possibilities. She walked on the tightrope between luring him into a peaceful slumber held safely in her arms, or stirring something else within him. Drawing out the side to him only she ever got to see. And enjoy thoroughly.

“Annie?” He says, pulling her from these thoughts.

“Yes?”

He was silent, as if he hadn’t meant to start up a conversation. She kisses his chest, letting him know deep in his heart that he could tell her anything.

“If this ever ends...this chaos, this war. If there’s a chance this could all end peacefully...what would you do?”

The question takes her aback. The ambition slithering in his words, the naivety of it all, made her chest writhe and tighten. The mere thought of a possibility of a world devoid of hate and violence...it made her sad. Because it was not a reality. He knew this, yet he could not help entertain the idea. 

Truthfully, it was something she both loved and hated about him. His ambition, his hope and his idealism. It was everything she lacked and envied.

She preferred not thinking about it. But in truth, this was coming increasingly hard to avoid each time their lips met and each time touches lingered longer than they should. Such bittersweet memories that had not happened, and would never happen. Like she was mourning the death of a life she had never even known. She couldn't picture exactly what a life would be like with him. But enough was there to make her miss it. If things were different, she would ask him to marry her. A jarring proposition, coming from her, when some would say it should be coming from him. But she didn’t care. The question hung on the tip of her tongue more than once but she could not find the courage to utter it aloud. Because how could she? Maybe she was that selfish to give into the temptation of running away for good. But Armin most certainly was not.

“I don’t know, Armin,” She would not bring the world to this room. She would not bring its harshness and cruelty in this moment; shatter this peace and this rare instance of recluse with her coldness. Upon hearing the way his heart pitter-pattered like gushing rain, she sighed and decided she would humour him. “Why? What would you do?”

“I...have ideas,” He says hesitantly. “A house on a cliff. With winding stairs spiralling down onto a beach, perhaps,” His voice is tantalisingly soft, ebbing with hope and brightness for which she does not hear from him all that often. “Naive ideas,”

She pries away and looks him in the eyes. Holding his gaze. Then she begins pecking him on the lips, the chin, the cheek, the nose...

“What else?” She inquires in between kisses. Encouraging him.

She hears a chuckle emanate from him, like the rumble of thunder, as she continues in her path of igniting his skin with her lips. 

“Have you ever seen those circular windows? An odd thing to want, I know, but...I picture a house having one of those overlooking the beach. They’re different and they remind me of the library I used to go to when I was a kid. They had one there, you see,” He starts and she listens intently, drawing up this house he paints in her mind with his words as brushes.

“I’d have my own bookshelf. I only ever owned one book, the one that was branded as illegal contraband, so there was never any need to have one. Not that we could have even afforded one anyway. My grandfather had a few cookbooks but those weren’t interesting reads...I’d own lots of books, and keep them on a shelf,”

She smiles against his neck. “That sounds lovely,”

“I sound like I’m five,” He murmurs, laughing. 

“You don’t,” She finally finishes her journey back on his lips. Pressing into him eagerly. “Not at all,”

“You don’t dream about what could’ve been?” He asks her, hoping he was not alone in this.

“I’ve never given much thought to the future,” Her mind unfolds the dusty memories of towering over Shinganshina. Of running through the forest, the sounds of 3DM gear zipping through the air behind her like a swarm chasing after her. Of her father, the beatings and exercises creating sores in places she didn’t know existed. 

The burning, hot first feeling of transforming at will…of being told afterwards the price of this magnificent power...

“There was never a future in store for me. So I never wasted sleep thinking about it. But when you talk about yours...I want them to come true, Armin. I want you to be happy,” 

“It could be ours,” He responds, and his hand leaves her hip to caress her cheek. Stroking the space between her cheeks and just under her eyes. “Somewhere, sometime, in another life. I think we deserve to live for ourselves after everything that’s happened to us,” He adds….

She nods. “I’d like that…”

There’s a brief smile exchanged between them. And for a moment, they exist in that little house on the cliff. He sits in that circular window with a book, and she hangs at his side overlooking the white breasts of the waves. And they live for themselves...

He kisses her, kissing the tears that fall like dewdrops across her cheeks as the cruel world settles back into reality. Their reality...

[stillebesat]

Scales (3/7)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Deceit, Virgil, Roman, Patton Blurb: Deceit hadn’t expected his absence from the Mindscape to be noticed by the others…until Logic knocked on his door. Fic Type: General Warnings: Shedding (snake style), Minor Injuries, Minor Pain, Touch Starvation Taglist in Reblog.

To Catch Up: Prologue Chapter 1 

Deceit struggled to draw a full breath as Logic pushed open the door, peering in before he moved cautiously into his room for the first time, the heat and humidity immediately fogging up his glasses as he did so.  

Logi--Logan frowned, amber eyes darting about as he slipped off the frames, cleaning them with a cloth while he took in every detail from the mussed up bed, to the theater posters on the walls above the piano, to the philosophy and law books scattered across the desk, to land on the sunlamp in the corner. 

Deceit couldn’t help but tense further, watching him investigate the room from the corner of his eye. “What?” He demanded. “You never seen a bedroom before?” 

Logan jumped, cheeks going red as he slipped the glasses back on. “Apologies.” He said, pulling at his tie, loosening the knot. “Your room...wasn’t how I expected it to be.” 

Oh? “And what were you expecting? A cave?” He retorted, heart pounding in his chest as Logan turned his full attention on him. 

The Logical Side cleared his throat, crossing his arms.  “A similar aesthetic to Virgil’s more like.” 

“Like Anxiety’s? Ha.” Deceit smirked, just barely stopping himself from shaking his head and revealing the shed. No, they were rather opposite in their tastes. He had always preferred his room to be lighter and warmer compared to the other Dark Sides. “It’s not always this…warm…but this is my room.” 

“It’s roasting.” Logan corrected, tugging at the collar of his shirt, loosening the buttons. “Why is it so hot?”

Deceit exhaled, a dozen lies running through his mind. The moment of truth. “Because it helps…” He licked his lips, audibly swallowing. 

His stiff arm trembled at his side. He should just lie. Give a different excuse as to why the room was too hot. Why had he even let Logic in in the first place?

“It helps...with--” He hesitated, closing his eye. Come on. Just show him. But it wasn’t like it was easy to show yourself when at your most vulnerable! 

“With?” Logan asked, his voice soft as he came closer. “You can tell me, Lyal. Remember, I am Logic.”

“Like this is logical,” Deceit muttered, human fist clenching. None of the others had to deal with this. None of them had scales. He was the odd Side out with this problem. 

But it was now or...well...now. Logan wouldn’t let it go now that he knew something was wrong. 

Deceit dropped his hand and abruptly turned. “Ithelpswiththis.” He said, struggling to meet Logic’s eyes as he gestured to the left side of his face and torso.

Logan inhaled sharply, eyes going wide behind his frames as he took in Deceit’s appearance, studying the off-white layer of skin that covered his scales from head to naval, dulling the once bright color to a dark sickly green. 

It felt like an eternity before he spoke. 

“You’re about to shed.” 

Deceit relaxed fractionally, watching Logan warily with his human eye. “Yes.” At least the other Side wasn’t...well….screaming in horror.

Logan moved closer. “I should have considered---I thought they were--” He reached out to the scales, but froze as Deceit flinched, twisting his body away from his hand. 

It was one thing to show him his shed, but to have Logic t-touch--. 

A tremor rushed through him. No one ever touched him.  

Logan cleared his throat, hand still raised. “Apologies Lyal. Uh... can I-- may I touch your arm?” 

Deceit made a face to hide his uncertainty, rolling his human eye while the other one remained unmoving, staring straight ahead under the film. He knew, of course, that Logic would want to investigate thoroughly in order to understand. Touch. See. Ex--Experiment. 

“If it’s too tender I don’t have to--” Logan said, pulling back. “I just haven’t seen--”

He exhaled, arm trembling. “Of course you haven’t. No one has.” He couldn’t afford to show weakness. To have them see him...vulnerable. 

Why then had he ever thought it a good idea to let Logic in?! Because he brought up pizza? It was such a stupidly flimsy reason and he’d allowed himself to take it. So weak. 

“Lyal.” Logan said, offering his hand palm up. “I know this must be difficult for you. Even Patton still struggles to open up to us about his feelings when he’s upset. So it’s okay if you need to take it slow--” 

Deceit hunched his shoulders, staring at the floor so he wouldn’t have to see the genuine concern in Logic’s eyes. 

Wasn’t it better than having him freaking out though? Logan hadn’t screamed or looked at him in revulsion. Hadn’t called for Creativity to come slay the monster--maybe...maybe he could be trusted...with this. 

Swallowing, Deceit cautiously lifted his arm, holding his hand out above Logan’s. “Gently.” He said, struggling not to jerk back as Logic drew closer. The others never touched him. “It’s--”

Logan hesitated, tilting his head, amber eyes soft, nearly like Morality's. “Tender?” 

“Sensitive, but that wor--” He flinched, hissing under his breath as Logan’s feather light touch brushed his fingers, burning along the leather-like layer of skin. “Works too.” He got out through gritted teeth, struggling to stay still as Logan trailed his fingers carefully along his arm before moving his hand up to rest the palm against Deceit’s cheek. 

He shakily inhaled, human eye half closing as Logic lightly brushed the shed there with his thumb.  

“More than a little sensitive, to react so.” Logan murmured. “How often does this happen to you?” He asked, peering at the milky eye. “Can you see? How long does this process take? Is this why you haven’t been eating? Does clothing irritate the skin? How much--”

Deceit took a step back away from Logan’s electric touch, the human side of his face growing hot under the barrage of questions. “Do you always play twenty questions with things like this?” He asked, struggling to not turn away under his scrutiny. 

“When given new information, yes.” Logan said with a half shrug as he adjusted his glasses, clearing away the water droplets gathering on them. “I am Logic after all and I want to understand this.” He gestured to Deceit, a thoughtful frown on his face. “As I had previously believed your scales were merely aesthetically placed, but it seems that you have more reptilian qualities than I realized and,” He drew in a breath, meeting Deceit eyes. “I want to know how to help you.”  

Help him? Deceit scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t need help.” He grimaced as the lie left his lips. If he didn’t need help he would have slammed the door in Logic’s face. “Don’t--”

“Falsehood.”

Deceit exhaled, running his right hand through his hair, staying away from the waxy side. “I know it was a lie, Logic, there’s no need to point it out.”

Logan grimaced, again wiping away the moisture from his lenses. “Apologies. It’s a habit.” 

Of course it was. Logan didn’t like dealing with lies. And Deceit hadn’t made it easy on him by forcing them all to keep silent when Thomas didn’t want to know things about himself. 

“Well, you’ll need to break it if I’m going to continue hanging around you guys.” He stated, gingerly feeling along his arm where Logan had touched him as he moved to sit on the bed. Well, collapse onto the bed. Deceit hissed as his legs trembled even sitting down. He was weak. Far too weak. “I can’t always…not lie.”

“You’re doing rather well right now.” Logan pointed out as he sat nearby, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes. 

Deceit huffed, gesturing to his shedding skin. “Side effect.” Mostly. It took more effort to Lie while he was like this at least.

“Ah.” Logan frowned. “Actually, that makes no sense at all.”

What about him ever made sense? Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Neither does me having scales.”

“...Point.” Logan conceded, inclining his head, eyes once more studying his shed. “How often does this happen to you?”  

Deceit licked his lips, looking away, showing more of the shed. “Uh...every four to six months. Some--sometimes more if Thomas is going through a lot of--growth--himself. Like--” He gestured to the waxy half of his hair. “This happened when he chose to dye his hair for the first time.” And it had taken two more sheds with it to figure out how to properly care for it without leaving large bald patches behind that he had to hide under his hat.

Logan’s eyes lit up as a small smile appeared on his lips. “That’s why we haven’t noticed your absences before now.” He edged closer, again lightly touching Deceit’s hand. “Am I correct in guessing your last shed was before we invited you--”  

Deceit nodded, his hand burning under Logic’s touch. “Y-yes.” 

“And it lasts a wee--No,” Logan jerked his head up. “This is why you’re worried.” He breathed. “It shouldn’t be taking this long.”

“Three days at most.” Deceit whispered, his human eye briefly holding Logan’s gaze before he looked down. “I...it still feels like Day One. It...it shouldn’t.” His right hand clenched on his leg while the left remained motionless. “I don’t know why.” 

Logan frowned. “This hasn’t happened before?”

Deceit shook his head, stiff under his touch “Not like this. I’ve done…I haven’t changed anything. My usual methods should have worked.”  

“Methods?”

“The heat and humidity. It usually helps to--to loosen it.” Once it was loose enough, the shed would become itchy signaling he could safely scratch or peel it off to reveal the new scales underneath. 

Logan chewed the bottom of his lip in thought as he lightly ran his hand over the shed once more before exhaling, shaking his head. “I admit...I don’t know why it’s not working, your methodology makes sense to me with my basic knowledge of how reptiles shed, but.” He pulled at his tie as he stood. “I don’t think you should stay in here.”

Deceit’s heart skipped a beat. What? “NO!” He tensed up, pulling his left arm close to his chest. “I can’t leave. It’s…” He shuddered, already imagining how it could all go wrong. He could barely navigate his bedroom without hurting himself and now Logan wanted him to leave? No. No. NO. “My depth perception is so screwed right now, I’ll get hurt! I’ll damage the scales further I’ll--”

“I’ll carry you then.” Logan interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. 

Deceit froze. “Carry--!” He choked out in disbelief. But! 

Logic nodded, again tugging at the collar of his shirt. “If I must, Lyal. I’m not willing to leave you here to fend for yourself in such a state.” His eyes glittered as he pushed his glasses up. “I told you I would give my opinion and I’m giving it.” He tilted his head to the door, holding out his hand. “This is not something you should continue to hide from your family nor deal with alone.”

To Be Continued. Chapter 3 

[chinateacup]

Commission for @asrasdarling

So thankful to @asrasdarling for being such a lovely customer. This commission was super delayed thanks to covid 19, but it’s all ready now! 3k of fluff with MC and Asra having fun with their friends!

Fandom: The Arcana

Characters: Asra, Nadia, Julian, Portia, Muriel, OC

Pairings: Asra/OC, (briefly implied Nadia/Portia)

No rating required

“Camping trip, camping trip, camping trip!”

Julian groaned, tipping his head back. “Pasha, I am begging you to stop chanting that.”

“Come on, Ilya,” Asra shifted the bag on his back, and nudged him with his elbow. “Maybe she’s worried we’ll forget why we’re here.”

“Yes, thank you very much, Portia,” Jenna smiled. She had a picnic basket in her arms. “That explains all the luggage and tents.”

The fields surrounding Vesuvia were beautiful, of course, and usually, Jenna would jump at the offer of a walk in them. But as she was discovering, in the middle of summer, the yellow grass was glaring, and the heat haze made her eyes hurt. The sun beat down heavily on the group of five, and she wiped her brow, gulping water from the canteen Asra had packed. She’d insisted she wouldn’t need it. Thank goodness he’d ignored her.

Despite the punishing weather, Portia still grinned, swinging her arms as she led the way. “You are welcome for the reminder. Come on, it’s just round the corner.”

“Traitors,” Julian muttered. “Both of you.”

“Are we nearing this little spot of yours, Portia?” Nadia called from the back of the party. “I don’t feel it’s fair to let poor Muriel carry all this much longer.”

Jenna looked over her shoulder, and winced. Muriel’s torso had practically vanished under the sheer number of bags slung around his shoulders, not to mention the ones piled high in his arms. Suddenly her picnic basket felt much lighter.

“I don’t mind,” he said quietly. Jenna believed it; he hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Not to worry, milady, because…” Portia ducked under a branch that proceeded to smack Julian in the chest.

“Ouch!”

“Shush you. Let’s see… it should be right around… aha!” She ran forward past a line of trees into a clearing. Jenna followed close behind, tugging Asra after her, and gasped.

Pine trees surrounded them, the shade cool and welcome against her skin. A tiny rock pool babbled on the edge of the clearing, half hidden among a thick cluster of purple wild flowers. The yellowed grass had given way to mossy cobblestone, cracked and slippery, with the odd tiny sprig growing between the slabs.

Asra sighed blissfully, tilting his face towards the sky like a satisfied cat. “This place is beautiful,” Jenna whispered, and he hummed in agreement.

“Ta-da!” Portia gestured with a wide sweep of the arm. “Was it worth the trek?”

“It’s incredible,” Julian blinked at his surroundings and dropped his bags at his feet. “When on Earth did you find it?”

“Oh, y’know,” she shrugged. “I used to come here to blow off steam about… stuff.” She glanced over her brother briefly, smile wavering, before it returned in full force. “…But that’s all solved now, so no reason not to share it! And we’ll get a perfect view of the meteor shower tonight!”

Nadia beamed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you for sharing it with us, Portia. We’re very grateful to you.”

Portia shrugged the compliment off, giggling. “Yeah, well, it’s – it’s no big thing,” she protested weakly, though her face had gone very red.

Jenna glanced at Asra. He winked knowingly.

Near the treeline, Muriel had already set up three tents on the cobblestone, tracing a protection rune in chalk in front of each one. An old habit, and one that he didn’t seem to be growing out of any time soon. Jenna set her picnic basket down while the Devoraks struggled to spread out a blanket, squabbling over which of them was twisting it the wrong way.

She exhaled slowly, and left them in favour of the rock pool. The water looked clean and clear, so she rolled up the hem of her pants, and sat on a large rock to soak her tired feet.

Asra sat right beside her, smiling softly. “You okay, Jen?”

“Yeah,” she replied, yawning. “Worn out.”

“It was a long walk,” he agreed, kicking away his boots and dipping his feet as well. His lips parted in a soft sigh, kicking his legs slowly. “This place kinda reminds me of Kitha.”

“Kitha?” Jenna leant her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.

“I never told you about Kitha?” Asra chuckled, breath tickling her hair. “It must have been years ago now… Such a cute town. I spent a few weeks down there one Summer. It was burning hot and in the middle of nowhere, and so, so gorgeous. So dry they could build their houses out of tightly packed sand, like an igloo.”

“Mm hm.” With her head pressed against him, Jenna could hear how Asra’s voice rumbled soothingly in his chest. His arm had found its way around her waist, thumb stroking her hip in slow circles.

“Anyway, when I told them I was a magician, they got really excited. One of them literally grabbed me by my collar, and dragged me to their mayor’s house. I thought I might choke.” Jenna smiled weakly at the image, half asleep. “When I got there, the mayor begged me to help them with their drought. It hadn’t rained there for years, and there was only one small well for the whole town to share.”

“Hang on,” Jenna opened her eyes. “You’ve told me this one.”

Asra blinked at her. “Have I?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. The owner of the well had made a deal with a demon so no rain would fall in the town, and people would have to pay to take his water, right?”

“Oh. Yes.” He thought for a moment, before brightening. “Okay, but have I told you about when I first visited Prakra?”

“When Nadia’s sister didn’t recognise you and tried to have you arrested for breaking into the palace?”

Asra bit his lip. “…Kamanar?”

“You convinced Muriel to come with you and they mistook him for a minor deity.” Jenna grinned, pressing their foreheads together. “I know all your stories, my love.”

“That can’t be true! I’ve taken so many trips…”

“And you’ve talked my ear off about them all,” she tucked a curl behind his ear, cradling his face in one hand. “As well you should.”

“Right, I have a goal for this camping trip,” Asra placed a hand on his heart, and his other on Jenna’s. “I swear that by tomorrow morning, I will find a story I have never told you.”

“Aw, just what every relaxing vacation needs. A time-based challenge.”

He giggled, cupping her jaw and kissing her softly. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, and he sighed against her lips, pulling her into his lap. The kiss broke, and Jenna looked down at Asra, flushed and staring up at her with an expression of wonder.

“Excuse me?” Nadia’s voice broke them from their trance. The group was already halfway through their picnic, sat around a blanket that (despite all odds) had been spread out quite nicely. She gave them a wry smile. “I hate to interrupt a tender moment, but you should know that I can only protect your share of the cookies for so long.”

“Ooh, tasty.” Asra stood, not even a little embarrassed, and tugged Jenna over by the hand. They sat crossed-legged on the blanket, and he stuck a pastry under Muriel’s nose. He went slightly cross-eyed trying to look at it. “Muri, please eat the tarts. We packed them for you.”

He rolled his eyes, but took it anyway. “Thanks.”

Asra grinned, holding one up to Jenna’s face as well. She smiled, tucking her hair out of the way before taking a bite. “Thank you,” she said around the mouthful.

“You’re welcome,” he winked. “So, Jenna and I were talking, and she seems to think I’ve told her all of my stories.”

“Well, that can’t be true,” Julian poured boiling water over a tea bag, bobbing it up and down by the string, “because I happen to know hundreds of Asra stories. Jenna, have you heard the one where the two of us broke into the palace’s wine cellar in the dead of the night –”

“The Count brought a party in there, and you hid in a barrel for three hours before climbing out of the window with half a dozen bottles stuffed down your pants.” Jenna quirked a brow, smirking. “That all you got, Doc?”

“Oh, she’s good.”

Asra groaned, burying his face in his hands. Nadia leaned over to pat his shoulder. “Come now, don’t look like that. I think it’s rather sweet you know one another so well.”

“Yeah, milady’s right,” Portia took a look sip from what looked like a cup of lemonade. “I mean, that’s what everyone wants in a relationship, isn’t it? Someone who knows all your stories.”

“I will find a new story,” Asra straightened, voice determined. “Mark my words, I will find Jenna a story.”

“Alright, what now?”

“You twist it.”

“I can’t twist it.”

“Twist it.”

“It’s already twisted!” Julian huffed, holding a very wilted bunch of purple wildflowers. “I’m not very good at this.” Muriel snorted in response.

Jenna bit her lip, trying to fold and twist the stems into a crown like he’d showed them. Asra looked down at her lap. “You’ve… almost got it.”

She pouted. “I really don’t.”

He smiled, placing his own creation on her head. The flowers were a little loose, but they held in place nicely. “This is a good colour on you.”

Jenna smiled gently, before breathing a sigh. “Okay, tell me why.”

Asra blinked. “Why what?”

“Why is it so important I haven’t heard all your stories?” Jenna dropped her crown in her lap. “Portia’s right. Isn’t it a good thing that we know each other so well?”

He shrugged half-heartedly. “I don’t know. You deserve a good story.”

“And you have given me more than enough. What is it? Are you sad about losing your ‘wandering magician’ reputation since we settled down?”

“Don’t be silly,” Asra chuckled, guiding her hands to help weave the flower stems together. “I happen to like my ‘always doting on his apprentice magician’ title much more. Though let’s be honest, at this point you could be my teacher.”

Jenna snorted, despite the blush she felt creeping up her face. “You should be so lucky.”

“Yeah, I should,” he grinned shamelessly, but his eyes were still distant. “Look, I just think that… if you know all my stories, and I definitely know all of yours, then where does that leave us?”

She frowned, distantly registering Portia celebrating her finished wreath. “What do you mean?”

Asra shrugged helplessly, not quite meeting her gaze and fumbling with the petals of a flower. “We’re finally done getting to know each other.”

If his voice hadn’t been so earnest, Jenna probably would have burst out laughing. She smiled widely instead, restraining herself. “Asra, I’ve known you for years. We’ve been partners for years! I’d like to think I know you pretty damn well!”

“But what happens now?” He asked, scratching his head. “With us, I mean. Now that we know each other.”

“We keep getting to know each other,” she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “People don’t stop growing, and they don’t stop changing, no matter how well you know them. Look at Muriel. You thought you knew him inside and out; doesn’t he still find ways to surprise you?”

“Surprise me?” Asra laughed. “A year ago if you’d told me he’d come on a trip like this, I’d have had a heart attack.”

“Oof, that would’ve been bad for us,” Jenna winced, clutching at her chest with one hand. He swatted it away, giggling.

“Hey, speaking of!” Asra beamed at Muriel as he trundled over to them. “A surprise.”

Jenna snickered, and Muriel looked between them, confused, before clearly deciding it wasn’t worth dwelling on. “Do you need any help?”

“Not at all,” she smiled, holding up her very loose, very messy, not at all connected flower crown. Well, it was more of a chain really.

He looked it over with a very serious expression, chewing his lip thoughtfully. A few flowers fell away. Asra giggled.

“It’s, um…” Muriel took a moment to find the right words. “It’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” Jenna nodded. “It’s great.”

“It’s perfect,” Asra agreed vigorously. “We should have it pressed and framed. Hang it behind the counter.”

“Please don’t do that,” Nadia called over. She was wearing her own finished crown. Of course it was lovely. “I don’t mean any offense, really, but I must say it out of concern for your business.”

“Aw, don’t feel bad, Jen!” Portia plopped herself down next her, and perched her grass wreath on Muriel’s head. He blushed, mumbling his thanks. “Ilya made some art as well. I call it ‘Very Dead Flowers.’”

Asra smirked. “I’d call it something else.”

Julian pouted, cradling two wilted stems in his hands that could have been flowers once. It was hard to tell. “I really did try my best!”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Poor flowers never saw it coming,” Jenna said solemnly.

“Oh, leave him be,” Nadia tutted, removing her own wreath and placing it gently on his head. “There. Now no one will ever know.”

Julian flushed beet red, barely stammering his way through a thank you before Portia groaned loudly. “Yeah, yeah, real cute of you. Who has the best crown though?”

“Yeah, Muriel,” Asra backed her up, nudging his friend on the arm. “Who’s the winner?”

He blinked. “Was… this a contest?”

“It is now, apparently.” Jenna motioned with her hand. “So who won?”

“I, um…” Muriel shrugged half-heartedly. “Nadia won.”

“Ah, I think you’re confused,” Nadia said smoothly, shaking her head. “I was not taking part in the competition. I do, however, feel that Julian’s crown is particularly lovely.”

Julian blinked. “Wait, what?”

“No, you can’t do that!” Portia puffed out her cheeks, huffing. “That’s cheating! He couldn’t even make a start!”

“Well that makes no sense,” Nadia tilted her head, smiling playfully. “If he couldn’t make a start, where did the crown come from?”

“You gave it to him!”

“Nah, Nadi’s right,” Asra winked at Jenna. “Congrats, Ilya.”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” she nodded quickly. “Good job.”

“Cheats!” Portia pointed between Nadia and her brother accusingly. “Dirty cheats, the lot of you!”

“Thank you very much,” Julian grinned smugly at Muriel, tipping the crown like a hat. “I will wear this victory like a badge of honour.”

Muriel didn’t return the smile. “You didn’t win.”

“Shush now.”

“Nadia did.”

“I won.”

Asra leaned over to whisper in Jenna’s ear. “We both know who really won, right?”

“Of course we do,” she replied. “I did.”

“Obviously.”

“Is everybody comfortable?” Nadia lay back beside Portia, head resting against a plush cushion. The sun had long set, but it still wasn’t dark. The summer sky was lit up with stars, scattered like gems across dark blue velvet. It made Jenna grateful they’d hiked all the way out to the fields; in Vesuvia, the stars had fallen to earth and arranged themselves neatly on a circular grid. Not that she didn’t like the brightness and bustle of the city, but it wasn’t exactly the best place to view a meteor shower.

Asra was laid on his back, legs stretched out, hands folded on his belly. Jenna lay beside him and linked their arms together just as a comet started to trail across the sky.

Portia made a squeak of excitement. “There’s the first one! Quick, make a wish!”

“Two steps ahead of you, Pasha,” Julian bumped his shoulder against Muriel’s. “What did you wish for, big guy?”

Muriel’s brow furrowed. “Can’t say.”

“Oho, keeping secrets are we?” Julian crooked a brow, pouting slightly. “And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

Jenna chuckled. “No, Julian, you can’t tell someone what you wished for. Otherwise it won’t come true.”

He went quiet. “Ah, right. Of course not.”

Asra rolled his eyes, smirking, and Jenna leaned her chin against his shoulder. “You’re not still upset about your epic tales of misadventure?”

He crossed one leg over his knee so his foot swung in mid-air. “You know what’s wrong with the stories I’ve been telling all these years?”

“How often you tell them?”

Asra snorted, pulling her close with an arm around her waist. “No, the fact that you’re… not in them. They were from a different time in my life. When you weren’t around. Jen, when I lost you, I…” His voice wavered, and he paused, swallowing thickly.

Jenna cupped his face and pressed a kiss to his mouth, feeling him sigh against her lips and relax in her arms. “…Things are different now,” she whispered when they parted. “Different for both of us. I want to make new stories now, happier ones. With you.”

Asra searched her eyes for a moment, before beaming, brushing a strand of hair off her face. “I love you so much.”

Jenna smiled. “I love you too.”

“Is everybody watching us right now?”

“They absolutely are.”

“I was not,” Nadia said smoothly. “However I think one of the Devoraks may be crying.”

Asra laughed. “I bet I can guess which one.”

Portia cackled while Julian spluttered helplessly. “Sh-shut up, you three,” he cleared his throat, pounding a fist against his chest. “Just watch the stars, will you?”

Jenna hummed, resting her head against Asra’s chest just as another meteor left a pale stripe above them. “Hey, there’s another one. Make a wish.”

Asra tucked her head under his chin. “Would it be cheesy if I said I’ve already got mine?”

“Massively,” Jenna mumbled, already half asleep. “But I’m glad that you said it anyways.”