#he's first the whole way around and gets hit by a blue shell and loses his absolute mind

[oddsconvert]

HIII THANK YOU FOR WRITING MY REQUEST, I WAS ACT PLAYING MARIO KART AND I *ALWAYS* CHOOSE YOSHI AND THAT DAY I WAS LIKE YOSHI???? 🤔🤔 JOSHYYYY!!!! 🤩🤩🤩🤩

By the way I’m also Covid anon, I’m fully recovered, all thanks to the lovely August!!!!

NO - THANK Y O U! ❤️ I LOVED THAT REQUEST SO MUCH, IT WAS ADORABLE - SEEING MY BOY HAPPY AND GIGGLING FOR A CHANGE IS SO REFRESHING 🥹 Yoshi & Joshy, my favess 😌

AND YAY!!! So glad you're all better!!! 💖 You show COVID who's boss 👊

[sinner-as-saint]

Yes to Heaven.

Ransom Drysdale x Housekeeper!Reader AU 

Run-through: You work for Ransom Drysdale. And the spoiled, notorious bad boy has had his eyes on you since day one. He wants you, bad. But you keep telling him no in the fear of losing your job should he be displeased by something you did. And it drives him insane because the one thing Ransom Drysdale isn’t used to hearing is ‘no’. You try resisting him, but not for long. He can be arrogant and bossy, but also charming and seductively persuasive. Ransom makes it his mission to make you give in. Then again, how long could you say no to such a man, one whose deep, ocean blue eyes held nothing but mischief and a little bit of heaven… 

Themes: smut, teasing, spanking, dom!ransom, fluff, edging using toys, dirty talk

a/n: this is long. 

“Good morning, Mr. Drysdale.” 

You greeted him the moment you saw him entering the kitchen, already dressed up for the day.  He showed up wearing a particular cream colored sweater - one you thought suited him a lot. Ransom always had the ability to make your heart race, mainly because you and him always had this strong, intimate tension in between you two, and also because he was a shameless flirt and he made it very clear that he wanted you. Bad. 

He sighed. “Ransom. Call me Ransom.” This would be probably the hundredth time he said so. He was dying to hear his name fall off your lips, but you never quite gave him the satisfaction. You just nodded and went back to doing whatever it is you were doing, he couldn’t tell what you were busy with because he himself was busy eyeing you up and down like it was no one’s business. 

He took a seat at the kitchen island, pouring himself some coffee from the fresh pot you had just made; like you did each morning. The more he looked at you, the more he had to shift around in his seat. You always looked so damn good. And the little apron you always wore was like a cherry on top; unknowingly teasing the hell out of him. 

As you kneaded the dough, you could tell he was too quiet today. Usually by now he would have complimented you endlessly, or asked you out shamelessly, or passed some sort of flirty commentary. So you waited for it. 

He got off the stool and walked over to where you stood. “You look gorgeous.” He spoke. And his voice sent shivers dancing down your spine. Not just because of the tone he used, but also because of the proximity. He was closer, you could tell. And something told you that if you took a small step backwards, your back would hit his strong chest. You froze in place. 

Ransom always made you nervous. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t have a crush on the handsome man as well. Whenever he was around, the butterflies in your stomach came alive again, out of nowhere. It didn’t help at all that he was in fact, drop dead gorgeous. He could have any woman he wanted, but for quite a while now he was persistent - making it very obvious that he wanted you. Just you. And you didn’t quite know how to act around him now that you had that information. 

But you had to keep saying no because, well, you worked for him. You couldn’t risk this job, nor could you afford to make things awkward between you and your boss. 

You were knuckle-deep into the dough when you felt his strong arms wrap around you from behind. He inched closer and closer until his chest pressed against your back. He had done this before, so you tried to get over the sudden display of affection and kept on kneading the dough. You heard him groan under his breath. 

“Why do you always ignore me like this?” He asked softly, his lips so close to your ear that with each word you felt them brush faintly against the shell of your ear. 

You cracked a little smile, feeling just a little ticklish. “I don’t. I just have a lot of work to do.” You spoke as you shaped the dough into a ball and wrapped it to let it rest, for later use. You moved away from the counter and he let you go for a moment. But when you moved to the sink to wash your hands, he walked over and hugged you from behind again. 

“Your hair always smells so sweet.” He took the liberty of burying his face into your hair and inhaled the scent of your shampoo. 

You smiled and chose not to encourage him by keeping quiet. You reached for a towel to dry your hands while turning around to face him. “Will you be having breakfast, or are you leaving for work?” Most days, he left without breakfast but since he was still lingering around and being all touchy and feely this morning, you assumed that he had time to eat. 

He gave you a playful smile. “I’ll eat.” 

“Alright then, give me a few minutes.” The chef didn’t come to work today, so it was all up to you. You got to work immediately, avoiding his eyes and grabbing all the appliances and utensils you would need for his go-to breakfast - buttermilk pancakes topped with peanut butter, fresh fruit and whipped cream. Despite the broody man he was normally, Ransom Drysdale actually had a sweet tooth. 

He lingered around for a bit more, then left the kitchen. You assumed he must have gone upstairs to his study. You let out a sigh as you assembled the pancake batter into a bowl. He was definitely making it hard for you. Something about the way he touched you made you all crazy inside. This had been going on for months now. And each day you pretended like you weren’t affected by him at all. When in reality, you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you. But it wasn’t so easy. You worked for him, this could never work the way he wanted it too. 

A little while later, you had his breakfast ready and brought it upstairs to him. Extra whipped cream too, just how he liked it. You knocked on the door before stepping in and you found him deep in concentration, dealing with paperwork. His brows furrowed as he focused on some paper in his hand. 

You cleared your throat. He turned his head to look over at you. “Hi.” He spoke softly. 

You gave him a smile and walked over to him, placing the tray down on his desk while carefully avoiding any important papers. “Would you like some more coffee?” You asked. 

He shook his head, “No. Thank you, Y/N.” He noticed the way he caught you off guard when he uttered your name. 

Somehow he made it sound magical. You tried your hardest to maintain your calm and composure, and not make it obvious while you checked him out because he sure did look irresistible in the cable-knit sweater he wore. 

You smiled and turned around to leave but then he called out after you. 

“Wait.” 

You turned and walked up to him again. “Yes?” you asked, politely as usual. 

So polite in fact that it only made him want to undress you and take you to his bed and make you scream his name for hours on end. “You’ve got a little something there,” he pointed at your mouth, or chin. You couldn’t really tell. You reached up to touch your face with the back of your hand and tried to wipe away whatever there was, but when you checked the back of your hand again, there was nothing on there. 

“I’m pretty sure there’s n-,” 

Ransom cut you off by dipping his forefinger into the whipped cream then shamelessly smearing it on your face, right by the side of your mouth and down till your chin. “Right there, see.” He pulled his hand away from your face and smirked. “Such a messy girl,” he circled an arm around your waist and pulled your closer. “Now I have to clean you up, don’t I?” He whispered quietly before leaning in with nothing but mischief in his baby blue eyes. 

Your hands instinctively rested upon his shoulder and the other slid into his hair as you felt his soft, warm lips against your face. Gently licking your skin clean. You gasped as he licked and sucked and nibbled on your skin, from the side of your lips down to your chin and back up again. You felt tingly all over, especially in between your legs. His hands wrapped around your body, pressing you further into him while his lips purposely didn’t touch you right where you wanted him to. 

You craved to know what he tasted like. You wanted his lips on yours, so much so that when he teasingly licked along the side of your mouth, you let out an involuntary moan. He smirked, moving his lips right on top of yours. Not close enough to kiss you, but enough to make your heart race in need. You could feel each puff of his breaths, mingling with your own. 

Ransom knew what he was doing. You keep resisting him, even though he knew that you wanted him just the same. So he was going to do what he does best; tease you in the most sensual ways for as long as it takes for you to give in to him, as well as your own desires. 

He planned on teasing you until you cannot take it anymore. Until you beg him to satiate your burning desire. To take care of your sinful needs. He wanted you to willingly ask him to fuck you and not stop until you can’t physically take it anymore. 

“There,” he mumbled in a satisfactory tone, “all cleaned up.” His lips brushed against your own very faintly as he spoke. And it only fueled the fire inside you, which you didn’t know had been burning since the moment you stepped into this room. 

He had barely touched you and here you were, all hot and bothered. You pulled away first, breathless and a little disappointed. Looking up into his blue eyes you found nothing but victory, mischief and a little bit of heaven in there. 

He knew the kind of effect he had on you for sure. He was teasing you, on purpose. Waiting for you to give in. But you didn’t plan on doing so that easily. 

Ransom smirked, waiting for you to break. But you didn’t. You stepped out of his embrace. “Well then, thank you Mr. Drysdale. Anything else?” you asked, pretending as if the past few minutes didn’t happen and ignoring the sweet ache in between your hips as best you could.  

Ransom knew you would still play it cool, and he did expect that you would pretend as if he hadn’t just set your whole body on fire just with the touch of his lips. “No, that would be all.” He answered with a smirk.  

You left the room at once, rushing to the kitchen and trying to calm your short breaths and your racing heart. You grabbed a paper towel and wet it under the tap before wiping the stickiness of the whipped cream from your face. Fuck… you could still feel his lips on your skin. So close, so close to your own lips. 

Ransom walked around with a smug look on his face for the entire day. And each time he saw you, all he had to do was stare at you for a bit and you would visibly shiver under his gaze. Each time you saw him, the scene in his study replayed in your head. He was so much harder to resist now. 

You thought of him on your way home that day. Despite the slightly colder winds of the evening hitting your face as you walked home, you could still feel his soft, warm lips on your face. You could tell he was going to make this very hard for you. 

Indeed he was. 

-

The next day, you walked into his home feeling all nervous and tingly. Mainly because you knew you’d see him in just a few minutes, but also, you were lowkey looking forward to seeing how he’d choose to mess with you today. 

Surprisingly, you didn’t see him all morning. The butler let you know that he was rather busy today, and had been all morning. Oh, you thought, perhaps if he was so engrossed in work he wouldn’t pay you much attention. So when time came to go up and bring him his lunch, you went without any worries or nervousness. 

If he was drowning in paperwork, he would barely notice your presence. As everyone knew, nothing else mattered to him when he was working. The world around him could be burning to ashes and he wouldn’t care as long as it allowed him to get work done. 

You walked upstairs and found Ransom, as expected, working in his study. You tried to make as little noise as possible as you walked into the room and placed his tray of food on the coffee table by the couches, not far from his desk. 

You picked up a glass and were filling it with water when you suddenly felt a warm puff of breath against the back of your neck. 

“You look cute with your hair up in a ponytail like this.” Ransom murmured into your ear, his voice low and deep; enough to make your hands shake and cause you to spill some of the water onto the wooden flooring of his study. He tsked at your unintentional mistake. “You made a little mess, sweetheart.” He pointed out. “Won’t you clean it up?” he cooed, urging you do so. 

You could pick up on the mischievous tone of his voice. You refused to talk, because you were sure that your voice would shake just like your hands if you did. So you just nodded. He was too close, barely touching you and yet, he was making you go all crazy. 

You leaned down to pick up a paper towel and then lowered to your knees to wipe the mess on the floor. You noticed he remained standing by you as you did so. 

“Look at me.” He spoke again. His voice was soft and gentle, yet demanding. And you remained on your knees as you tilted your head up to look at him. He tilted his head down, and to the side a little and admired you with a playful smirk on his face. 

He reached out and touched your face gently, his knuckles stroking your cheeks lazily. You shivered again. All he did was touch your face, yet he was able to make you feel things you had never before. 

“So pretty…” He looked into your eyes intensely as his thumb soon moved to touch your soft lips gently. He traced the shape of your mouth and slowly pushed his thumb past your lips, into your warm mouth. “You like this, don’t you?” He said as you instinctively took his thumb into your mouth, wrapping your lips around it and stroking it with your tongue immediately. “That’s a good girl…” he muttered quietly, breathlessly, as you sucked on his finger with nothing but a nervous, yet playful look in your eyes. “Something tells me you like being on your knees, sweetheart.” He cooed, and something grew hotter and hotter inside you. Ransom chuckled at how you almost whimpered. 

“You look so pretty,” those words from him made you almost squirm. “But,” he removed his thumb from your mouth and traced your lips again; a little harsher this time, “You’re being such a messy girl lately. You need to be reminded that that’s not acceptable behavior, hmm?” He spoke in that soft, yet stern voice. 

Messy? Both times you were ‘messy’ these past two days have been because of him. What does he mean, ‘messy’? 

“But you-,”

He cut you off quickly. “Ah,” he placed his forefinger against your parted lips, asking you to stay quiet. “Don’t talk back.” He moved his hand from your face and held it out for you to take. “Now come on, up.” 

You took his hand and stood up, ignoring the ache in between your hips again. 

“Bend over.” He said, pointing towards his desk, not far from where you stood. 

You were a little surprised, a little turned on, and just a little bit nervous. “I… what?” 

Ransom smirked. “You heard me. I said, bend over.” He pointed to the desk again. Without another word said, with every fibre of your body on fire and every part of you wanting him, you walked over to his desk and bent over the side of the large, sturdy wooden desk of his. You placed your elbows down on the surface of the desk and supported yourself up, sticking your butt out. 

Your heartbeats rang in your ears, and you let out a whimper when you felt his hands on either side of your butt; caressing it gently. 

He heard your whimper and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?” 

Fuck no. 

“No.” You answered a little too quickly. And he chuckled. 

“Good girl.” He stood up straight again. He noticed you were wearing a cute, little white sundress today. Perfect, he thought. He slowly lifted the skirt of your dress up and you shivered again when the slightly colder air hit your legs. 

But then you felt his warm hands massaging your butt cheeks through your flimsy, white underwear. You knew instantly what was coming. And your heart raced just waiting for it. 

“Count to five for me, sweetheart.” He spoke softly. You nodded. 

You waited. He lifted his hand up in the air and brought it back down to spank your ass. You yelped in surprise, and almost giggled right after. It didn’t hurt at all, in fact it left behind pleasant tingles. Oh, you forgot you had to count. “One.” 

Pleased with the response he got, Ransom did it again, allowing his hand to linger on your skin a little longer this time, caressing where his hand landed. “Two.”

“This will teach you not to be such a messy girl, hmm?” 

“Three.” You said, almost moaning at how good it felt, and heard him chuckle. You knew that he could very well see just how drenched your underwear had gotten, since you stepped into this room a while ago. 

“You’re dripping already.” He pointed out. 

You could hear him smirking. He lifted his hand and spanked you again. “Four.” You whined, in pleasure. Again. “Five.” You whimpered again, in pleasure and at the tingly sensation which took over your whole body. Oh how you wanted more… 

He allowed his hands to linger on your butt for a while longer, just massaging your now hot skin. “Such a good girl,” he whispered as he pulled your dress back down and pulled you up against him, pushing his face into the crook of your neck, kissing your skin incessantly. “I know you want more, sweetheart. Just say it.” he kissed along your throat, up till your ear. “Just ask for it, and I will take really, really good care of you.” His voice gave away his fervent need. 

His words made you whimper again, in need. You could just say yes right now and let him give you all that you wanted. But then, your job… 

“Ransom…” you gasped as he nibbled on your skin. “We can’t…” you forced yourself to resist him yet again. 

He was reluctant, but he let you go. He allowed you to step out of his embrace. And eventually let you walk out of the room. He let out a loud, defeated and frustrated sigh once you left. There was so much he could give you, so much he could show you. Why do you keep pushing him away when you want him just as much as he wants you? 

-

For the rest of the day, each time you saw him you either turned the other way and pretended to be busy or you lowered your eyes; unable to face him and groaned internally as you walked past him as fast as you could. 

He could tell you were conflicted regarding your own feelings. But each time he tried to start a conversation regarding it, you would just make up some excuses and leave the room. Almost like you were punishing him for something he hadn’t done. 

And that only made him want you even more. So much so that his mind concocted more devilish ways to mess with you. 

- 

The following morning, Ransom was up early and excited. He came downstairs and found you dusting in the extravagant dining room which he never used. 

“Good morning.” He greeted you first, given you hadn’t yet acknowledged his presence. 

You turned around sheepishly and whispered, “Good morning, Mr. Drysdale.” You sounded more shy than you intended, then again that was probably just the effect of him being in the same room as you. 

Also, his voice brought back the memories of yesterday. Of the time spent in his study. You thought about it all night long, and it made you all hot and bothered again. 

Ransom walked up to you, with something in his hand. But you were under the spell of his deep blue eyes and you didn’t dare look down. He approached you and leaned in to kiss your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth. You almost groaned out loud. 

“I’m gonna be gone all morning,” he trailed his nose along your cheek, “and I want you to miss me.” He sounded so cocky it almost made you crack a smile. 

“I assure you, you will be missed.” You tried your hardest not to let your voice shake as you spoke - because he was making you nervous as hell, but also him being so close to you made your body tingle. 

He smirked. “I know, I know.” He waved a small, bright pink, oblong shaped device in front of your face. “I just have to make sure of it.” You tried to get a look at what that was as he slowly pushed your against the wall behind you. “Come on, spread your legs for me.” 

Oh dear God. He brought a toy. 

“Ransom…” you sounded frustrated. 

“Babygirl…” He mimicked the tone you used and smirked when you let out a frustrated sigh - much like he did yesterday after you turned him down. 

“Anyone could walk in right now.” You looked right in his eyes and you could tell that he did not give a flying fuck. He had other people handling his household; butlers, and chefs and lawn maintenance people. And they were all at work today. 

“Well, I don’t care.” He spoke in that cocky, bossy voice of his. “Besides, the quicker you do as you’re told, the lesser chance we have of somebody catching us.” He stepped closer to you, breathing right into your ear, “Now come on, spread those legs for me.” 

You did as you were told, your heart racing as he reached down to shamelessly touch you in between your legs. You closed your eyes and let out a quiet moan as you felt him push your underwear aside and press the toy against your wet folds. He slowly moved it around your clit, making your buck your hips forward discreetly. 

You pushed your face into the crook of his neck as he slid the toy up and down your slit until he found your entrance. “Breathe,” he cooed as he slowly pushed the toy into you. You gasped and whimpered as he pushed it all the way in. He slowly pulled his hand from in between your legs and took a step back. “You did so good. Now for the fun part,” he pulled his phone out and tapped on it a few times and soon you felt the toy vibrating inside you, pressing right on your G-spot. 

You let out an involuntary squeal. “Oh!” You breathed through your parted lips as the gentle and steady buzzing of the toy made you feel like your whole body was on fire. You gasped and held back another moan as he turned it up just a little, barely noticeable but your body reacted to the new setting immediately. You whined, quietly; very much aware that there were people everywhere around the house. 

Ransom chuckled at your reaction. Perfect. He leaned in to kiss your cheek again, “Have a good day, sweetheart.” 

He left. And yet, he didn’t leave you in peace. 

His little toy tormented you all morning. For some minutes, the vibration would be practically non-existent, but then he’d turn it up whenever he pleased and you would let out gasps, and squeals and moans randomly all throughout. 

You couldn’t focus on anything, other than the pressure in between your legs, and the sweet pain which came along with it. One of the butlers tried having a small talk with you and you could barely process any word he said. It was difficult to go about your day in peace when all you could think about was being absolutely railed by the man you worked for. 

Ransom got home in the early afternoon. And he was particularly excited to see you, knowing damn well that you must be utterly spent by now. You would be surely dripping, your arousal flowing out of you incessantly. Fuck… he couldn’t wait. 

He walked inside and searched the house until he found you in the sun room. You were watering the plants in there. Your messy bun was messier than it was this morning. 

“Hello.” He knew that his voice would get some reaction out of you. And he was right. He heard you let out a weary sigh when you heard him. 

You turned around; flushed and frustrated. You were burning just at the sight of him. “You’re back.” You sounded almost defeated. Ransom walked further in, right up to you. 

“How was your day?” he placed both his hands on either side of your waist, and pulled you closer. “Had fun? I hope you remembered to miss me.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek. Once he pulled away, you leaned forward and placed your forehead against his shoulder as though your body went limp. 

You let out a whine. “Please… it’s too much,” you pouted but he couldn’t see it. 

“Oh?” He mocked you, using the same tone you did previously. “What, you can’t take it for a few hours?” he grabbed you by the chin and made you look up at him. “What about all those times I spent pining for you, longed for you to give me even a tiny bit of attention? This is nothing compared to that.” 

You gasped loudly, realizing that he had turned it up again. You looked down and found his phone in his hand. Of course. 

“Ransom, please…” you whined. 

He fake pouted, looking down at you. “Aww angel, is it hard?” he cooed. “I bet you want me to just,” he leaned closer to your ear, “reach down there and touch you, hmm? And make you cum? Because you can’t bear the idea of having to walk around whining in need for another hour or two, can you?” 

You whimpered at his words, your walls clenching around the toy as you looked up at him, pleading. “Please…” 

“No. Not so easily. You can wait some more.” 

With that, he walked out of the sunroom and left you there, whimpering and throbbing. With the toy buzzing steadily down there. 

Fuck… 

-

You were a little on the edge as you went to bring him his cup of coffee later in the afternoon. Would he tease you again, or just toy with the settings of the vibrator and make you make a mess again? With Ransom, one could never tell. 

You found Ransom in the room he called his workshop; which was where he spent his free time painting. 

Your plan was to give him his cup and then walk out of there as soon as you can. You found him standing in front of a canvas which was on an easel stand. His forearms were covered in shades of blue, some matching the sweater he had on. 

You placed his cup on the nearby table and were about to walk out when you heard him speak up again. “Wait. Come here.” 

You walked over to where he stood. This was the first time you noticed just how orderly this room was. Normally one would expect a workshop to be a mess, but no, not when it came to Ransom. 

He reached out and touched your cheek. “You look flushed. It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it sweetheart? Your body can’t take it anymore, can it?” he murmured softly. 

You looked up at him and shook your head. He melted at the look of desperation in your eyes. You were desperate, all for him. At last. 

“Want me to make it better? Hmm?” 

You nodded quickly. 

“Good. Kneel.”

You did so immediately. Ransom ran his knuckles across your cheek lovingly. “Now come on, show me how bad you want it.” 

You rapidly unzipped his pants; lowering the waistband of his underwear to free his erected cock. You whimpered again at the sight of his cock, thick and girthy. It made you wet, even more than before. You reached out and wrapped your hands around his base, stroking along his length; your tongue slowly circling his tip. He groaned and spread his legs further apart, inching his hips slightly forward as you took more of him into your mouth. 

“That’s it… good girl,” He threw his head back for a moment. The sound of his voice made you clench around the toy. 

You gave him your all; bobbing your head around him and licking around his tip. You took him inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat; hollowing your cheeks and letting his raw taste fill your senses. His cock twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. He bucked his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock. 

“Come on angel, make me cum.” He said and you sped up your actions until he came undone all over your tongue; moaning and making your clit throb even more than before just by hearing his moans and growls as he came into your mouth. You swallowed all that he gave you before zipping his pants back up. 

Ransom gently stroked your cheeks again. “Such a good girl.” He held his hand out for you to take, then he helped you stand up. He leaned in again, kissing you at the side of your mouth. “I think you deserve a little reward, don’t you angel?” 

You looked up at him in hope, almost whining again at the sound of him providing you with some sort of release. It sounded too good. 

“Yeah you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

You spoke up finally. “Yes please.” 

Ransom smiled down at you and pushed you back until your back hit something solid. You figured it must have been the table where he kept all his brushes and everything. He pushed you back onto the desk, most of his stuff falling over but he didn’t mind. 

He sat you down on it and spread your legs apart while holding your stare. His eyes remained focused on your face as he settled in between your legs. His hand reached out and he ran his knuckles along your wet folds through your underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart.” He commented, slowly sliding your underwear down your legs. He grabbed the toy by the end and pulled it out with ease, your arousal leaking out of you and the sight of it all made him almost moan again. 

Ransom leaned down and placed a kiss on your inner thigh and you gasped. He reached out with two of his fingers and gently circled your clit, gathering your wetness from your folds and smearing it around. He got down on his knees; his face dangerously close to your core. You bit your lip, waiting and anticipating his next moves. He couldn’t possibly leave you on the edge again, could he? 

Ransom spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core; the lower half of his face completely submerged into your dripping core. You let out a loud moan as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. 

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your clit mercilessly. Your hands gripped his hair and tugged gently at his roots. His tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. 

“Such a sweet girl…” he whispered and got back to assault your sensitive spot with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste. Your taste drove him wild, so did your soft whimpers. You whimpered under his touch, you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more.

His deep blue eyes watched you in awe and how you lost control under his touch; legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. Your arousal drenched the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming above him. 

“Ransom…” you moaned out loud; your eyes shut and your head tilted back as you felt a wave of toe-curling pleasure wash over you. You were so close… But he didn’t let you enjoy it. The moment you moaned and bucked your hips against his mouth, he lifted his lips off you, smirking. 

“What…” You looked down at him in absolute surprise and desperation; wide eyes and parted lips, breathing heavily with a pleading look in your eyes. You watched how he stood up again. 

Ransom leaned in and his lips brushed against your lips faintly. “You taste heavenly,” he mumbled, “but you don’t get to cum just yet. You had me going crazy after you, I can’t let you have what you want so easily, sweetheart.”

And with those words, yet again, he left you wanting more and you grew even more desperate. 

-

 The next morning, Ransom was a little surprised when he hadn’t seen you around. He knew you were at work, given he heard you come in and also heard you talking with one of the butlers. But when he came downstairs, he couldn’t find you anywhere. He also had a lot of work to be done that day so as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t spend all his time searching for you around the house. 

He got back to his study eventually, wondering when you would show up. But you didn’t. It got to a point where he could no longer focus on what he was doing because he was busy overthinking everything. 

Could it be that you were avoiding him? Was it something he did, or said yesterday? Did he overstep a line? 

By the early hours of the afternoon, he was restless. He tried to go downstairs to find you, and he did but you were in the kitchen helping his chef out at the time so he couldn’t talk to you. He didn’t even make his presence known, he just slowly backed out of the room, disheartened. 

He felt miserable. He hadn’t seen you properly all day, hadn’t heard your voice, hadn’t teased you like he loved to. He almost didn’t feel like himself. 

The rest of the day went by agonizingly for him. He had made up his mind to confront you before you leave though, he couldn’t tolerate this suspense any longer. 

In the evening, around the time you usually left his home, Ransom searched the house until he found you again. You were in the sun room, finishing up some remaining work. The floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the sun room also allowed him to look at the terrible, almost stormy weather outside. It looked like it would rain violently all through the night. 

“The weather’s gonna get worse, let me drop you home.” 

You froze at the sound of his voice. You had done your best to keep a distance from him all day long, but you knew that wouldn’t work for much longer. It wasn’t because of something he did, it was you. 

You couldn’t help but overthink everything. Was he just toying with you because he’s bored? What would happen once you slept with him? Would he just cast you aside and pretend it never happened? And if he does, wouldn’t that make everything awkward at work for you? After he did have a history of being quite the playboy. 

“No that’s alright. Don’t bother, I’ll manage.” 

Your answer didn’t sit well with him. He stood there at the doorway while you moved around the room, wrapping up your last bits of work. 

“What do you mean ‘don’t bother’? It’s pouring outside I-,”

You cut him off, calmly. 

“I mean it Ransom, truly. I’ll manage.” 

He sighed. “Alright, is it something I did? Something I said? Why are you avoiding me? Tell me so I can fix it!” He did sound a little hyper but that was only because he couldn’t figure you out. 

Your reply frustrated him even more. “No, nothing.” 

Alright, that’s it. He walked over to you and grabbed you gently by the elbow, turning you around so you faced him. Even despite the gloomy weather, the sight of your face made him the happiest he had been all day.  “I haven’t seen you all day. Then you avoid me like it’s nothing. And now you’re acting like… this. What’s going on? If it’s me, I’m sorry. I never meant to-,”

You were quick to cut him off at that. “No, it’s not you. It’s… I don’t know. I just… I work for you. I don’t think it’s wise for us to be this close and intimate. It’s wrong. Isn’t it?” You hadn’t thought about how hard it would be to say that to his face, when in reality you wanted him more than anything. 

His dreamy blue eyes, the thoughts of which kept you up till late at night lately, stared down at you with an unexplainable emotion in them. He was surely taken aback by what you had just said, because to him this was never a problem. And he didn’t want it to be a problem for you either. 

“Does it feel wrong, babygirl?” He asked. If you said yes right now, he would let you go and never touch you again. But the look in your eyes gave him the answer he wanted to hear. “Say it, Y/N. Does it feel wrong when you’re with me?” He leaned down to gently press a kiss at the side of your mouth. You were dying to kiss him. “Does it feel wrong when I touch you, when I tease you…” he kissed along your jaw. “When you get on your knees like my good girl to please me, does it feel wrong then?” he whispered against your skin. 

You shivered. He waited. “Answer me, Y/N.” 

You whimpered at the sound of his voice. How could you not, he had been teasing you for days now. 

“No. It doesn’t.” You murmured, and gasped as he gently nibbled on the skin along your throat. You heard him chuckle quietly. 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” 

Next thing you knew, his mouth was on yours. Kissing you properly for the first time. His kiss started out all gentle and loving, and got progressively more and more heated. Your lips moved perfectly against each other’s. You sighed in delight. He deepened the kiss by stroking the top of your mouth with his tongue, and you were on the edge just by that. 

Ransom kissed you deeply as he walked to two of you back until your back hit the glass window. You let out a gasp and before you could process anything else, Ransom was on his knees in front of you. 

“I’m sorry for teasing you for the past days. I’ll make up for it, I promise.” He whispered as he kissed along your thigh, your skirt gave him easier access. He loved it. Next, he dragged your underwear down and quickly urged you to spread your legs further apart. You did. 

Ransom made you cum all over his tongue, more than once. He only stopped when your legs visibly started shaking. You were a moaning and whimpering mess when he finally stood back up again. 

His mouth found yours again. He kissed your open mouth with ardor, like he owned it. His hand slipped under your thin sweater and he caressed your warm skin with his large hands; tracing the skin right under your breasts, leaving goosebumps where his fingers touched you so hungrily. 

Without breaking the kiss, he picked you up and slammed your back against the glass window behind you. You couldn’t even form a proper thought as his tongue slipped into your mouth, making you moan wantonly into the kiss. Your hands slid into his hair. Your core pressed against his firm body as his mouth alone drove you crazy.

He moaned into the kiss as your hand gently tugged on his hair. He smiled and spread your legs apart just a little more so he could be closer to you, as if you weren’t already. His hands held you up, securely against him; he had a very firm grip on your thigh, his other hand placed right under your ass. 

“I want you. So bad…” he mumbled breathlessly against your lips. He sounded so… hot that it made you moan and whimper again. 

Fuck… “I want you too.” You managed to whisper in between kisses. 

You felt him smirk, then he bit your lower lip; tugging on it gently. Ransom pulled away to look into your eyes again. He waited for a moment, just savouring the hunger in your eyes before he leaned in for a kiss again. You could no longer take it. So you reached down and undid his pants, while he slipped his hand in between your legs again. 

He ran his knuckles along your wet folds, smearing your arousal around in the process. He groaned in pleasure as you gently pulled his cock out and stroked it gently. “Eager now, are we?” 

He slipped his two fingers past your entrance with ease and grunted in your ear as he felt your walls instantly welcoming him in. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the spots you wanted him too. You almost came again, but you didn’t want his fingers anymore. 

“Please… I need you to fuck me, Ransom. Please…” you begged. 

He was pleasantly surprised. “Anything for you, angel.” 

He set you down and pulled down your skirt, letting it all fall and pool around your ankles. You stepped out of it before he picked you up again and kissed you deeply; your legs wrapped around his waist. His cock briefly brushed against your wet folds in the process and you moaned wantonly through the kiss.

He kissed down your neck as he aligned his throbbing tip with your entrance. He pushed himself into you, stretching you out as he went. His nails dug into your skin as he held you by your hips, and yours clawed at his shoulders as he filled you up nicely. You were both panting by the time he filled you up entirely. 

“Fuck… you feel so good, sweetheart,” He moaned, breathlessly into you ear. And that earned him a loud moan out of you. There was just something about him whispering in your ear which drove you completely insane. 

He grunted as he rocked in and out of you. You felt all of him, and he was perfect. He stroked your walls with his throbbing cock and you were a moaning mess in no time. He enjoyed every second of it, each sound he earned from you felt satisfying. 

“You feel better than I imagined, angel…” he moaned.

He held you securely against him, as he sped up into you like he had dreamt of doing so many times before. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and let out a loud moan and he fucked you. Hearing him moan was the hottest thing you had ever heard. You whimpered again as he slammed into you relentlessly.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to fuck you like I own you, hmm?” he whispered against your skin. 

His mouth soon found yours and he nibbled on your bottom lip and you let out shaky breaths. He was taking over all your senses and you were more than happy to surrender to him. A thin layer of sweat formed on his face, as he fucked you relentlessly; earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Ransom…” you gasped. 

You felt a sweet pressure forming in between your hips; fiery, burning and pressing inside you. Ransom nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how his body brought you immense pleasure. You had craved this for so long. You craved him. 

“Please…” you whined. 

Your sensitive clit rubbed against his pelvic bone each time he buried himself completely in you. He growled in your ear as he pounded into you as fast as he could, your back slamming into the large glass window with each thrust. Your body moved along with his like a rag doll. And you never complained once. You could hear the wet sounds that he caused each time he pushed himself into you and the sounds of your skin slapping against each other was downright sinful. 

“Cum for me, baby. Come on…” he growled in your ear. 

He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake around him as he quickened his pace; pounding into you mercilessly. You felt like you were losing your mind. The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came undone around his cock; screaming his name in the process.

Once you recovered from your high, he fucked you again. And again, on the couch. Then upstairs in his bed. Which was probably where you passed out as well; worn out and satisfied. 

 ---

 You woke up in his soft, warm bed the next morning. You peeled your eyes open and realized that the weather was just as gloomy as the previous night. Only this morning, you felt much better than you had these past days. You felt tingly still, and the butterflies in your stomach came alive again as you thought of Ransom… 

Speaking of, where was he? 

You sat up in the middle of the bed, clutching the sheets around you. You could tell your hair was a mess even without looking at it. And just as you were trying to tame it, you felt the bed dip right next to you. And the next moment you felt a pair of lips kissing on you; along your neck and across your cheek making you giggle. 

“Good morning.” You whispered, pulling away to take a look at him. 

He smiled at you. “Good morning, angel.” He sounded excited. “I made something for you.” Only then did you notice that he had something in his hand. 

He placed it in front of you and you let out a little gasp. “Ransom… this is beautiful.” You picked up the canvas and admired the painting on it. It was a bunch of Forget-Me-Nots, beautifully painted in several shades of blue. “What’s the occasion?” 

He placed a gentle kiss upon your exposed shoulder. “It’s a farewell gift. I don’t want you to work for me anymore.” 

You scoffed at how extra he was. “Then what?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet, we’ll figure it out, together.” 

You shook your head at him, turning a little more towards him while still clutching the sheet around you. “So what, you want me to be your little stay-at-home plaything?” your words made him smirk, “So you can spend your time plotting new ways to torment me, and tease me for however long you’d like?” 

“Baby… you have no idea how good that sounds.” He said so just to mess with you. He was kidding of course. 

You leaned in and kissed him, smiling. “You’re sick, Ransom Drysdale. I love it.” 

He smirked through the kiss, pushing you back until your back hit the bed again. He was on top of you once again, “Hmm, I love you too.” He mumbled in between kisses. 

And in that moment, you were glad you finally said yes to him.

[aithorin]

A Lesson in Possession - All Smite x Reader (18+)

Summary: When you make the mistake of revealing that you find one of the top ten heroes attractive, Smite wastes no time in reminding you that you belong to him.

Warnings: Villain AU, Villain!All Might, Possessive behavior, Dominance, Vaginal fingering, Possessive sex, Unhealthy relationships, Degradation

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30772664

Very much NSFW!

All Might was ignoring you. Intentionally ignoring you. And you didn’t like it. Not one bit. For the last 20 minutes, you’d tried in vain to get him to finally sit down on the couch with you yet to no avail. He just continued to rustle around in the kitchen, seeming to clang together every goddamn pan in existence while looking for who knows what. At any rate, it was clear your attempts weren’t working at all.

Letting out a huff, you turned away from the kitchen to face the television. Raising the volume to drown out all the fucking noise he was making, the newsreporter babbled on about a battle that had happened earlier in the day. The fight in question was between none other than All Might and a horde of the top heroes. But what else was new?

‘Boooooorrrrring’ You droned out in your head. Picking up the remote, you flicked to the next channel only to be met with the same regurgitated garbage from the last. Sitting up straight, a spark of irritation fired through you as you began cycling through all the channels, going through them faster with each disappointment.

“All Might-” Next

“Earlier today, Symbol of Discord, All Might-” Next

“Top hero Endeavor and All Might faced off-” Next

God, was there nothing else to fucking watch? Huffing in frustration, you hit mute before tossing the remote onto the cushion beside you. Crossing your arms, you settled further into the sofa as a small pout crept onto your face. Glaring at the TV, you gave it a scowl that rivaled All Might’s. However, as you kept your eyes trained on the now silent news report, your glower slowly faded into a wicked grin as an inkling of an idea began to take form. You knew exactly what to do. All Might wouldn’t be ignoring you for much longer.

Sitting up, you swung your legs up onto the couch and schooled your features into the epitome of relaxed and unbothered. Slinging one arm over the back, you kept your gaze glued to the TV and called out, “Your fight from today is all over the news.”

A particularly loud clang was all you got in response. That was okay. It was to be expected. On to phase two.

“They’re saying you destroyed half of Kamino Ward. And with five of the top heroes there too! That’s pretty impressive you managed to make it here without a scratch. I guess even the best have nothing on you.”

This time you got a clang followed by a grunt. Okay, so flattery was a no go. Time to change tactics. But no matter, you had saved the best for last.

“Although…” you began, dragging the word out, “While they may not be a match for you when it comes to power, I do have to say that some of them rival you quite well in the looks department. Personally, I think Hawks comes pretty damn close.”

Bringing a finger up, you tapped it against your lips. Amending your previous statement, you said, “Hmmm, wait. On second thought, I think he might actually be hotter than you. He is pretty attractive, you know.”

At your words, all clanging came to an abrupt halt. This time all that greeted you was deathly silence. Reveling in it, your smirk grew tenfold. Checkmate.  

Slow footsteps rumbled across the ground, sending tremors through the floors of your apartment. But you wouldn’t let yourself be intimidated. Keeping your eyes trailed on the screen, you refused to look at him, knowing it would anger him more. With the sole intention of pretending not to notice you had just pissed off the number one villain, you nonchalantly picked at invisible dirt in your nails.

Standing in the doorway that separated the living room from the kitchen, you could feel his glare burning holes into the back of your head, but you held steady to the charade.

“What,” All Might growled, “Did you just say?”

Giving a noncommittal hum and schooling your features, you threw a cursory glance at him over your shoulder before turning back to the TV, feigning disinterest. Once you were out of his line of sight though, you couldn’t help letting the devilish grin return. It was all going according to plan. He was absolutely pissed. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so angry before. Just a couple of words and his aura had darkened so much it cast a shadow over the whole room. With his eyes blazing and his lips curled back in a snarl, his fists were clenched at his sides, trembling ever so slightly in an attempt to keep his anger in check. At any rate, it was clear your comment had gotten his blood boiling.

“Hmmm, what was that?” you finally replied. Looking at the TV, you continued, “Oh, I was just saying that I think Hawks is way hotter than you. No offense.”

Letting out a snarl, he began to stalk towards you. “You’re playing a dangerous game doll. Are you trying to make me mad?”

“No,” you said, giving a small pout, “I’m trying to get your attention. You’ve been ignoring me the whole time you’ve been here!”

“Insolent girl!” All Might growled, “And you thought insulting me was the way to do it?”

“Well nothing else was working!” you said haughtily, crossing your arms, “Besides, from my view, it worked perfectly. You’re certainly not ignoring me now, which is all I wanted in the first place.” Letting the irritation slide off your back, you gave him a cheeky grin and waggled your eyebrows.

Yet your words seemed to have the opposite effect on All Might as his expression grew impossibly darker. Giving you a derisive smile, he sneered. “Fine,” He said, voice sinister yet full of promise, “Have it your way then.”

The change in the air was palpable. Grin fading from your face, you realized that with nothing more than a few words from him, you’d lost all control over the situation. The knowledge sent a wave of nervousness down your spine. There was no denying it. The tables had turned, and while you may have won the battle, you were most certainly about to lose the war. God, you should have just kept your mouth shut. Why did your impatience always land you in such deep shit? Would it really have been so bad to wait another 15 minutes?

You’d played with fire and now you were about to be burned. From the look of All Might’s heated gaze, it seemed you were in for a world of painful pleasure. He’d give you what you want alright, but the bastard would be sure to reduce you to a writhing, sobbing mess beforehand. Yet despite the fact that your head was screaming at you to get away, your body seemed to have other thoughts. To your horror, you realized that the idea of being so completely at his mercy was actually turning you on. Just thinking about it had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat as a dull throb of need began to build in your abdomen.

In a flash, his looming form hovered over you, encasing you with his shadow, and the glow of his blazing blue eyes burned with a smug self-satisfaction at the sound of your breath hitching. Somehow, he’d gotten ahold of your arms, and they lay trapped in one of his hands held high above your head. His actions had caused your shirt to ride up ever so slightly, a fact which had not escaped All Might’s attention. Taking a moment to rake his eyes over your form, you could feel your body heat under his appreciative gaze, tendrils of want slithering through you.

Leaning over you, All Might trapped you with his body, your chests touching. His nearness created a warmth, and with it your heart began to beat ever so slightly faster. Tongue darting out to nervously lick your lips, you waited to see what he would do. With his free hand, All Might came up to swipe his thumb across your bottom lip, getting rid of the moisture you’d just laid there, before tilting your chin up and somehow getting impossibly closer. It was more than enough to unnerve you, and it was obvious he was doing it on purpose. The damn bastard knew you were helpless to resist when he was that close.

Bending down, he pressed his face toward your ear. “You want attention?” He snarled, his hot breath fanning the shell of your ear and sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine, “I’ll give you attention.”

Pulling back, he made sure his eyes met yours. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget that bird brained freak even exists. But first, I’m gonna teach you a lesson, doll. Mark my words, you’re gonna regret opening that pretty little mouth of yours.”

And that was all the warning you got. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, demanding entrance. But the brat in you couldn’t help resisting. You met him full force, refusing to give him what he wanted, goading him. In response, he growled against your lips before biting down on your bottom one, not hard enough to break the skin but hard enough to surprise you. Releasing a tiny yelp at the shock, he seized the moment to push his way through. In an instant, he had his tongue tangled around yours. And there was nothing loving about the embrace. Rough and bruising, it was pure punishment and you were helpless to do anything about it.

As your need for air began to become overwhelming, All Might started to pull away, leaving a trail of saliva connected to your lips, thinning ever so slowly before finally splitting in half to land against your chin. Chest heaving and yearning to feel his lips against yours again, you sought his touch the only way you knew how.

By baiting him.

Sitting up ever so slightly by wiggling one arm out of his embrace, you propped yourself up on it and gave him a roguish grin. “Is that all you got, big guy?” You asked.

At the jab, he let out a growl. “I’m not anywhere close to done with you, girl.”

Leaning down, he grabbed hold of your T-shirt and tore it straight in half in one fell swoop before doing the exact same with your bra. Letting out a gasp, your exposed nipples began to harden in wake of the cold air, and All Might smirked as you rushed to cover yourself.

“Uh Uh Uh” He tutted, waggling his finger at you, “You know better than that.”

Slowly you began to lower your hand, and All Might let out an appreciative hum. “Good girl.” He purred.

Leaning down, he latched onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking it between his teeth and giving it an experimental tug. Your body, desperate for the slightest touch now, responded immediately. Letting out a breathy moan, you arched into his touch, silently begging for more as the sensation sent jolts of pleasure dancing across your chest that headed straight to your core. Smirking in satisfaction, All Might chose to ignore your plea. Grabbing onto your hips, he began trailing his lips down to the waistline of your pants, leaving warm wet kisses with his tongue across your belly while his thumbs stroked the sides of your waist. Arriving at the top of your pants, he reached one hand over to flick them open before sliding them over the curve of your ass, taking your panties with them and leaving your glistening pussy fully exposed.

“Look at you. You’re positively drenched, and I’ve barely even touched you. What an eager little slut you are.” He said, dragging one long finger along your slit.

Gasping at his touch, you watched, entranced, as he pulled his finger away, your juices dripping off of it. Bending down, he held it up to your mouth.

“Suck.” He commanded. Looking down at it, you hesitated just a moment too long, and his face twisted into a snarl.

“I’m not gonna ask you twice, girl. When I tell you to suck, you suck. ” He growled, squeezing your jaw open with one large hand wrapped around your cheeks and pushing his index finger into your mouth.

Tentatively you took the length of his finger into your mouth, wrapping your lips around the base of it. As the back of your tongue touched the pad of his fingertip, the warm, slightly salty taste of yourself met it. Swirling your tongue around the digit, you slowly began to bob up and down on it, thoroughly lubricating it with your saliva.

Letting out a satisfied smirk, All Might purred, “Good girl.” Shoving his finger back in as far back into your throat as he could, you gagged trying to catch your breath as he finally removed the digit, bringing your bottom lip down with it.

“That was for earlier.” He sneered, “Don’t disobey me again.”

And then, beginning from your mouth, he traced a path down your chin with his wet finger, going between the valley of your breasts and the soft curve of your belly. As the wet trail he made quickly dried, you shivered as the dampness met the cold air. Arriving at your pussy, he began to prod at your entrance, easily slipping the digit in.

You couldn’t stop from letting out an immediate moan at the stretch. From one finger, he had already managed to make you feel deliciously full. The mind numbing emptiness your body had been begging for him to satiate was finally being remedied.

Beginning to pump, All Might turned his attention toward your clit. As his fingers thrust inside you, his thumb began to rub slow circles over your clit, pulling all sorts of gasps out of you. Working you open, his pace began to quicken and before you knew it he was slipping a second finger in.

Dissolving into putty at his hands, you could feel your climax fast approaching.

Yes!” you moaned, “Just like that.” You were so close. With one more thrust, you’d be gone. You could feel his fingers pulling out, preparing to send you over the edge, when suddenly they were completely gone, leaving you painfully empty.

Choking from the force of being denied so suddenly, your eyes flashed open just in time to see him climbing off of you. Face sweaty and cheeks flushed, you were an absolute mess. Lost in a haze of need, you could barely even comprehend what was happening. All you could see was that damn smirk on his face.

Unbuckling his pants painfully slow, he seemed to revel in your agony. As he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants, a distinct clink floated through the air as his loose belt buckle hit the metal of his pant button. And then in one swift motion, he took his pants off, his cock springing free. Painfully hard and red, it seemed to almost pulsate. Following the line of one thick vein, you saw that the tip was already oozing pre-cum.

Licking your lips in anticipation, you waited for All Might to approach you once more, but he remained standing. In fact, he moved farther away from you, making you want to cry.

Stroking himself, he seemed to completely ignore you as he lifted his other hand to rest on his chin, a thoughtful expression came over his face. “You know, I’ve already been quite lenient with you. Maybe it’d be better to just take care of myself.”

At that you wanted to sob. Nothing in the world mattered more to you than having his cock balls deep inside you at the moment. “Please please don’t do that!” you said, wanting nothing more than to pull him close, but he was just out of reach, and by then, you were too out of it to do anything else but stretch a weak hand toward him.

“Ple-please touch me.” You whined, legs rubbing together, desperately trying to regain even the slightest amount of friction.

Letting out a snort, he taunted, “And give me one good reason why I should. You haven’t exactly been on your best behavior today. Need I remind you that this is supposed to be your punishment?”

“I-I know you want to though.” You said, breathless. Raising your head to look at him through hooded eyes, you purred, “It-It’ll be so good.”

Taking a few steps toward you, he looked down into your eyes. Face becoming almost pleasant, he questioned, “You want this? You want my cock?” As you watched him stroke himself, you eagerly nodded. You wanted nothing more.

In an instant, his face turned dark once more as he growled, “Then beg for it.”

At that, a look of confusion spread over your face. “Wh-What?” You questioned.

“You heard me. If you want my cock beg. for. it.” He said.

Under normal circumstances, you would’ve laughed in his face, but, well, being incredibly horny does make a difference. Swallowing your pride, you whispered, “Please. I want your cock. I want you to fuck me.”

And yet, true to the utter asshole that he was, All Might pretended not to hear you. “Hmmm. What was that?” He said, lifting a hand up to cup his ear, “I didn’t hear you.”

“I want your cock!” You shouted, looking up to glare at him, “I want you to fuck me.”

“No need to be so mean kitten,” He said, a mock pout coming over his face, “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Before you could even register that he’d moved, All Might was back over you again, one last self-satisfied smirk being the only warning you got before he buried his cock in you. Moaning from the sensation, tears sprung at your eyes from how far he was stretching you. God, he was so big, yet you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care because it felt so good.

Fully inside, he gave you the small mercy of allowing but a single moment for you to adjust. Before you knew it, he was pulling out only to thrust back into you again, setting an absolutely brutal pace. Eyes rolling into the back of your head from the force, you briefly registered him attaching onto your neck, sucking hard enough to leave teeth indentations.

Grabbing hold of his neck, you wrapped your legs around his waist to give him better access as breathy groans escaped your lips. Already you could feel the coil inside beginning to wind again.

“You filthy slut. You like this, don’t you? Me using you for the whore you are.” He said, wrapping a hand around your throat and grunting as he bucked into you.

“I’m the only one who’s ever gonna be able to fuck you this good. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this. You got that. You’re mine.” He growled, reaching hand down to flick at your clit, never once slowing down.

Lost in pleasure, you barely even processed his words. That is until he leaned down to snarl in your ear, “Say it.”

“I-I’m yours, All Might. You’re the only one who can fuck me this good.” you groaned.

Coming in close, he caught your lips in a bruising kiss, before thrusting in once more, going so deep you were sent flying off the edge. Gasping, you saw stars in your eyes as white hot pleasure wracked its way down your spine sending tremors throughout your body. As you came, your pussy clenched around him, causing All Might to climax as well. Hot seed coated the insides of your walls as you both fought to recover. As your heavy pants gradually became more controlled, he slowly slid out of you.

With sweat coating his brow and his breathing ragged, All Might looked down at you, blue eyes blazing,  “Nobody makes you feel the way that I do. Nobody. And you’d do well to remember that, doll.”

Climbing off of you, he began to make his way down the hall, throwing your pitiful form still sprawled out on the couch one last glance.  “The next time you want to try something like what you just pulled, I’d suggest you remember our little lesson today.”

[fuckingthefictional]

Hi! I would like a request about Derek from teen wolf, please. The reader is trying to approach him, taking care of him "because Derek is too busy taking care of the others", BUT IT'S BEING SO HARD because of all of his past. Derek and the reader argue one night because of the overprotective nature of the reader about him, and when she tries to leave the loft, completely upset with Derek, he tries to fix things between them. Could you do this with a lot of angst and, then, tons of fluff? Thanks!

Ignored

Pairing: Derek Hale x Reader

Warnings: Angst bbyyyy, and some fluffy goodness at the end, not checked over (so probably a crap ton of spelling errors)

A/N: hello hope you enjoy, sorry it took forever! I’m so busy with work, college and personal issues that writing has been put on the back-burner.

When the name Derek Hale was mentioned- one immediately thought of the broody, salty, sarcastic young man who lived by himself after the tragic Hale house fire.

Nobody would ever associate the name Derek Hale and caring. It just wasn’t in his nature. Because under no circumstances could Derek be remotely kind, caring or soft in any way possible.

That’s what people thought of Derek. But not you- or the majority of the pack for that matter.

Yes, you saw where others came from with their ideas and judgement (Derek’s lack of colour in his wardrobe obviously didn’t help either).

But to you when you heard the name Derek Hale, you immediately thought of the kind hearted man who would give up anything for the safety of his friends and family (as much as he claimed otherwise).

You knew him differently, you knew him like the back of your hand. You knew that his favourite food was Spagetti Carbonara without the mushrooms, that he didn’t like Coca Cola, that he secretly loved watching trashy tv shows like keeping up with the kardashians, and most importantly that he was running himself ragged.

He had bitten off more than he could chew when it came to helping everyone out. He was the one giving lifts and helping with homework and hosting pack nights, and handling Isaac’s nightmares, all of this happening at the same time as some supposed lizard creature being on the loose.

You had been ignored by Derek Hale for approximately 72 hours. Now this wouldn’t be bad if it weren’t for two things.

1. He wasn’t aware that he was actively ignoring you.

2. The idiot wasn’t your husband of 2 years.

Over 68 hours ago you hadn’t minded, you had even brushed the silence and distance off- knowing that Derek liked to have a little time to himself.

But when it hit the 5 hour mark of the 4th day, frustration and disappointment had begun to set in.

There was one more thing that made the whole situation worse. He was blatantly ignoring you- and only you.

It hurt. You could admit that to yourself easily without any qualms at all. It hurt.

Whether that was to do with the whole ‘mate’ side of things you didn’t know- all that you did know was that Derek Hale was drowning and he wasn’t going to swim until everyone else was okay.

-

Thud, thud, thud, creaak

“Der please sit down”

“I can’t. I gotta figure this shit out before the school finishes for the day.” Derek grunted from his spot in the middle of the room. His head firmly stuck in the thick, dusty book that he had been pouring through for the majority of the afternoon.

“Der please, take a break.” You pleaded with him, begging him to just stop for a second and relax.

“I can’t,” Derek murmured again, before he pivoted in his heel and walked away up the staircase.

His heavy footfalls retreated upstairs, the musty book still clutched in his grasp.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you willed the tears in your eyes to stay put and to not roll down your cheeks in fat drops.

Why couldn’t you be enough for him?

-

The next plea came around 2 hours later, when you brought a bowl of homemade pasta and garlic bread up to Derek. Hoping that just maybe it would strike up a conversation, that maybe he would utter more than two short sentences to you.

“Babe- I made you lunch.” You elbowed your way into the room, balancing the bowl and plate in your hands.

“Just leave it on the desk.” He motioned to an empty slot on the overcrowded surface.

“I just thought that maybe we could have lunch together, have some time with each-other.”

“Y/N/N’s I would- but I have so much to do. Stiles and Scott are already on my ass about the damn lizard freak in town.”

“Der, you need to take a break.” You placed your hands on his shoulders. Instead of feeling them relax you could feel his muscles tense up.

Shrugging your hands off, he pushed the fresh plate of food away, “I can’t.” He spoke simply.

“But-“ you tried to object in protest, trying to plead with the broad shouldered man in front of you- hoping that maybe, just maybe he would come to his senses.

He did not.

“I said no Y/N.” Derek ground out, “I’m busy. Please for the love of God stop bothering me.”

The words stung you, causing you to stumble back in shock. Derek had a hard exterior, everybody knew that. But he had never spoken like that to you.

He had promised on your wedding day that he would always be kind, that he would be your biggest supporter and largest source of love.

But all those words felt like lies now. You felt alone, like an empty shell of yourself. Why couldn’t you just be enough?

-

Hours flew by, the watch on Derek’s wrist occasionally beeping to signify the new hour. If he were being honest- he had lost track of what the time was.

The only signifier was that Stiles, Scott and the others were in his presence- meaning it was at least 4pm

And judging by the sky outside of his office window, it was late evening, as the sky itself had melted from cool blues into a fantastic array of oranges and purples.

But besides the low chatters and bickering coming from Isaac and Stiles, the house felt almost too quiet.

There was no tv hum coming from the living room, no occasional flush or running of water from the restroom, no sizzle from food coming on the oventop, no sound of a page in a book turning. Nothing. Just silence.

“Hey Derek,” He looked up to see Scott staring at him, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Well-“

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her yet today.” Isaac chimed in.

“I’m not actually too sure.”

Derek was met with a sea of blank stares.

“I’m sorry- there’s a kanima out there roaming Beacon Hills, the very same kanima that is killing more people by the day. And you don’t know where your wife is?” Stiles asked incredulously, “Are you kidding me.”

“Well I’ve been so caught up on this research that I haven’t been spending as much time with her.” Derek attempted to defend himself.

“Derek, please tell me that you haven’t been ignoring your wife.”

Everybody had there eyes on him again.

“Well-“

There was an uproar of protests, all of which were yelling at Derek for ignoring and deserting his wife.

“You better find her Derek, before something happens and you regret it for the rest of your life.”

-

You really didn’t know how long you had been out here for. All you knew was that the night was closing in and the chill was setting in your bones.

But you didn’t want to go back to the loft, you honestly didn’t think you could handle seeing Derek after his outburst earlier.

The cold, damp ground soaked into your body- sucking all the warmth out of your body at a creeping pace.

The spot you sat in, hadn’t changed much since your first date with Derek. It was still isolated and it gave off the best views in Beacon Hills. Nobody knew about it but you and Derek.

Sighing deeply, you looked out over the viewing point- watching the tiny specks of light flicker in the distance. Every single light showed a different life that was being lived, each one with their own struggles. Beacon Hills was something else to say the least.

“I knew I could find you here.” A familiar voice broke your train of thought.

You kept silent, staring straight ahead, willing that your bottom lip wouldn’t start trembling and the flood gate wouldn’t open in your eyes.

“Look I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, still unable to look your husband in the eyes, “Are you though?” You briefly shut your eyes to stop any tears from breaking through, “or are you just saying that to get on my good side.”

You could feel Derek’s presence settle down besides your own. His breath creating little puffs of mist under the dark sky.

“I didn’t realise you were trying to help me, until it was too late and you’d left the apartment” He muttered, “It’s my fault, I should’ve taken your advice, I should’ve listened to you.”

You listened intently, knowing his words were sincere and heartfelt, “Why didn’t you listen to me then Der?” You responded bitterly.

“Because accepting help means showing weakness, and showing weakness is something I haven’t done since before the fire.” Derek’s voice was small now, “Before I met you, accepting help was off the table- I was a lone wolf, with no pack or family. And now I’ve found you and I’m desperate to not lose that again, I can’t lose you to this new threat in town- I can’t be alone again.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as your husband’s words set in. It made sense to you; why he was studying non-stop, why he had barely slept or ate.

It was apparent that while he was trying to protect his loved ones, he was also pushing them away in the process. That needed to change.

“You won’t be alone Der,” You lay your head down on his shoulder, “I promise that much- it’s you and me forever.”

“Through every supernatural event that happens in this town?”

You giggled softly, “Yes, and every single thing in between.”

[nctwd127]

What Could Have Been?

Part Five. (Smut)

Johnny got off the bed to take the remainder of his clothes off. There was a tease lingering in his actions and a smirk resting on his face. Everything was coming off slowly but surely.

You watched with your lip caught between your teeth as he took off his belt and threw it elsewhere. And then his pants. But your mouth really dropped when he took his boxers off and sprung free.

Water pooled in your mouth as you watched him stroke himself a few times. Endless thoughts filled your mind and all you wanted to do was stuff him in your mouth, whole.

He stood at the foot of the bed, never breaking eye contact as he continued stroking himself. His tip was red with need, wanting to feel some kind of relief.

“Am I going to relieve myself or is your mouth going to do its job?”

You smirked and nodded your head, making your way off the bed and standing face to face with Johnny or how you like to put it, face to chest.

His breath hit your face the closer you got to his body. You looked up at him for a second before your lips touched his shoulder and your hands landed on his forearms.

You kissed down his body till you were on your knees, with your hands following the path you kissed down till one of them gripped his thigh and the other one wrapped around the base of his throbbing cock.

A soft moan escaped his lips at the relief of having you touch him. But it wasn’t enough and he was surely not in the mood to tolerate any teasing like you were doing at the moment.

Johnny looked down at you as you stroked him slowly, rubbing his tip with your thumb. He watched the way your tongue came out to lick your lips but made no contact with his hot skin.

“Don’t tease me.” He warned.

Truthfully you wanted to see how far you could push him before he snapped. So you ignored his warning and continued your mischief. Slowly you stroked him, letting your mouth wrap around his tip loosely.

When your mouth finally made contact with his tip, for a second he believed that you listened to him but when that’s all you did, he started getting angry.

“Cut it out now.” Johnny hissed.

A small laugh left your lips as you pulled away from his head, “So impatient, aren’t we?”

And there was that look again when you looked up at him. The color of his eyes faded into black before they went back to his color. His fist balled up for two seconds before he loosened them again.

He yanked your head back by your hair, “You do as I order (Y/N).”

“Open your fucking mouth.”

With your mouth wide open, he shoved his cock into your mouth, your gag reflex kicked in fast as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose.

Johnny held your face with both his hands as he pumped himself in and out of your mouth, will little time to recover to breath.

Salvia was running down your mouth, tears were forming on your waterline. You had a tight grip on his thighs for some stability.

You tried to swat his hands away because you needed to breathe but he wasn’t letting up. When that didn’t work, you tried to fight against his hold for more breath.

“Behave or else.” He sneered, dropping his hands to his side.

One of your hands landed back on his thigh and the other wrapped around the base of his dick, taking him back in your mouth.

Your pace was eager but not rapid, not slow either though. You bopped your head on his length and pumped him at the same time. Your tongue danced around his tip before you took him all the way to the back of your throat and swallowed.

“Hmm, just like that baby girl. Do it again.” Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and petting the back of your head.

Managing to breathe through your nose longer, you fulfilled his request multiple times. Only pulling him out when you couldn’t hold it anymore.

You licked his shaft from top to bottom and sucked his balls into your mouth, your tongue licking around while they were in your mouth. You kept jerking him, your thumb grazing his tip.

“Where do you want it?” He groaned looking down at you.

Your eyes met as you pulled him out of your mouth slowly with a pop, “Mouth.” You answered and stuck your tongue out.

A grin creeped on his face, “That’s my girl.”

Johnny finished himself off with curse words falling from his mouth. His hot cum landed on your tongue and the corner of your lips.

Once he was all emptied, you swallowed everything he had to offer, his taste was salty but you really rather enjoyed the taste.

He wiped the corner of your mouth and caressed your lips before helping you get off your knees.

There was a moment when you looked into each other's eyes where the lustful tension turned into yearning passion.

He brought you in for a kiss but this time it was different than other times. It wasn’t needy, it wasn’t full of hunger. It was slow and sensual, passion seeking.

It felt like there was fire burning between your bodies.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist pulling you closer to his body. He lifted you up and laid you on the bed, lips still intertwined as you crawled up the bed together.

Something about this moment made him want to take things slow, he wanted to enjoy your body, to feel every inch of you, to kiss every part of you before he made you his.

Johnny settled in between your legs with his member poking you but not penetrating you quite yet. He detached from your lips and trailed kisses down to your neck.

There was nothing stopping him now from marking your body, so he kissed and sucked on your skin, his warm tongue licking over his marks when he was done.

Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling softly at his roots. Your mouth rested on his ear shell while breathless moans escaped your lips.

He moved away from your neck and made brief eye contact with you before his eyes traveled to your lips. His tongue came out to lick yours before beginning to savor the taste of your lips.

Eyes closed, face turning from side to side as you tasted each other, tongues dancing to the most intimate tune you could make in each other.

The passion was burning high, there was electricity in the air, everything in this moment felt right. The both of you are thriving off each other’s bodies and energies.

One of his hands went down on your body, lined himself up with your entrance and pushed forward gently, taking his time with filling you up.

There was a slight sting with the stretch but just as fast as it came, it went. Your fingers pulled a little harder at his roots at the feeling of being so full. And your teeth sunk into his lip slightly, with his mouth catching your groans.

Johnny interlocked your hands as he began thrusting into you, feeling your walls tighten around him, pulling him in deeper. Deeper than your own fingers could ever reach or his.

You raised your legs higher and adjusted yourself better so your hips could make full contact, a deep groan erupting from his chest.

“Wow, you feel amazing.” He moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His grip was getting tighter on your hands, his strokes becoming rougher and deeper. He was starting to lose control.

You arched your back, returning the grip on his hands. It felt so good, better than anyone you’ve had before. Your head fell back, exposing more of your neck to him.

“Johnny, yeah, yeah right there.”

Letting go of your hands, he sat back on his knees pulling out of you completely and held you tight by the waist. He took a second to admire your naked beauty before slamming back into you.

A lewd scream left your lips, “Please, fuck me just like that.”

Hearing you moan out for him like that made the wheels in his head turn. He pulled out, leaving the tip in and slammed into you again.

“Take all of me you fucking slut.”

Johnny wrapped his hand around your neck and pounded into you balls deep. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed off the walls. The moans, the groans, the heavy breathing all mixed into each other.

For the first time in your life, you were feeling colors. They floated around you in clouds, each one making itself known with every thrust he gave you. You felt them on your skin, behind your eyelids.

The color blue felt like warmth creeping on your skin during a cold winter day. Pink felt like a cool breeze on wet skin. Red felt like magic and that one was your favorite.

He watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your mouth left open trying to say something, anything. Your nails digging into any part of his skin they could reach, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist.

Thankfully he knew where your body was because he was nearing his own release. With one hand still on your throat, he moved the other down to your clit rubbing eights into your skin.

Your body began to shake, your walls were pulsating around him trying to pull him into your soul. You were on the edge of an overwhelming release. You were so far gone into ecstasy that you couldn’t form words, let alone think them.

“Cum for me baby girl.”

Without a second passing, your body let go with a sharp scream piercing your ears. Everything went white, your body released till you went limp. Your nails let go of his skin and your legs dropped from his waist.

After your body went limp it wasn’t long before Johnny met his own overwhelming release. With loud grunts and a last hard thrust, he finished inside you till he dropped beside you.

“Holy fuck.”

Your eyes were closed, you had no thoughts and nothing to say, you were speechless and tired. The most you could do was nod your head and reach your hand over to touch his hand.

He took your hand in his and gave you a squeeze, “How are you feeling? You okay?” He asked, sitting up looking over at you.

Your throat was dry and your voice raspy, “Mhm.”

He chuckled, getting off the bed and putting on his boxers. He left the room for a moment to return with a glass of water and damp cloth to clean you off.

His touch was gentle but you still flinched at the contact because of how sensitive you were. After he was done, he looked through your drawers to find you a new pair of panties and then helped you put them on.

The next hour or so passed with the both of you laughing and enjoying the company before it was decided that it was time for him to head back to the dorms before anyone got too suspicious that he was out for so long.

You walked him to the door where he gave you a quick goodbye peck on the cheek and said he’d text you when he got home.

Your mind was heavy and so were your eyelids, all you wanted was to sleep now. Your body had reached its maximum capacity, you were exhausted so you decided to go shower while you waited for him to text.

The shower ended and new sheets covered your bed, you were ready for blissful sleep. You crawled into bed and looked over at your phone.

More than thirty minutes had passed and you still hadn’t heard from Johnny which was unusual considering the dorms were fifteen minutes away from your place.

Speaking of the devil, just when you were going to message him, your phone vibrated with his notification.

Johnny: Hey, sorry for the late text. I got home about twenty minutes ago but I got bombarded at the door by some of the guys.

Johnny: But anyways, I’m home and beat to the max. Gonna shower and head to bed right after honestly.

Me: Ah okay, glad you got home safely, I was just about to send the swat team out for you lol

Me: Same though, I showered and in bed already, was just waiting for you to knock out

Johnny: Lol no need for them now, next time maybe

Johnny: If anyone needs the sleep between us, it’s definitely you ;)

Johnny: Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow, I had a great time today, Goodnight (Y/N)

Me: Goodnight Johnny, thank you for today

And with that, you headed to sleep for the new day to start.

What Could Have Been?

~~~

Hey Guys! So I was able to get my story back so I will be able to continue writing it and posting it.

Although I'm not too sure if moving forward I will be able to keep posting it on my computer or through my phone. But I will keep you guys posted on that.

Just another small reminder, my request are open!

Thank you guys so much for the support. It means so much to me truly.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 7

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 3515

Masterlist

*Smutty this chapter*

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

************************************************************************

“Please… I want to feel something. I need you to- I need you to make me forget, even it’s just for a little while.” His thumb was rubbing over your cheekbone. “Just don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m so sick of this numb and broken feeling.”

You knew you weren’t thinking clearly. You knew there was a very good possibility you’d regret this later. But right now… all you wanted was for Dabi to drown out all the thoughts in your head. You wanted to be consumed by him, wanted him to work you over until this numb feeling in your chest went away.

You expected him to be aggressive and he didn’t disappoint. His lips were on you, kissing and biting any skin exposed to him and when that wasn’t enough, his hands literally tore your shirt to pieces. His lips immediately connecting to your collarbone and trailing down. He spoke to you between kisses, his voice husky with need. “Red means stop. Yellow means slow down. Green means good to go. Repeat it back to me.”

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and your back arched to push your breasts closer to him. His hand heated up and slapped the tit that wasn’t currently in his mouth. “I said repeat it back to me.”

You sucked in a breath, “Red i-is stop.” His hand came down to tease your clit through your underwear. “Y-yellow is slow down.” He started to rub firm circles, making you moan in appreciation. “Green is-“ He began to suck a bruise into your neck.

“Green is what?”

A tear ran down your cheek. “Green is… AH! Good!”

“Good girl.” He pulled your underwear down your legs and it wasn’t until then that you remembered your period. You weakly started to push his hand away as it traveled up your thigh. “I haven’t forgotten y/n. I also don’t care. I’ve blood on my hands before.”

He shoved two fingers into your sopping entrance and started to pump them in a hard but slow pace. He had only just begun, and you were already beginning to feel blissed out. You didn’t know how pent up you had been until he had you unraveling at even the slightest touch.

Your nails dug into his shoulder which had him chuckling. “Oh baby… I haven’t even gotten started yet and you’re already losing your mind.” His fingers quickened their pace and his other hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head forcing you to look at him. I want those eyes open and on me.” You shivered at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t a suggestion. “Do you understand?”

You nodded your head as you stared into his blue eyes. Afraid your voice would give away how desperate you were. He wasn’t satisfied with that though. He tugged on your hair, “Use your words, I want to hear that sweet voice of yours.” He put his forehead on yours his nose brushing against yours. “Now let’s try that again… Do you understand?”

You whined as his fingers started to slow down. “Y-yes..”

“Yes… what?” His lips ghosted over yours while the palm of his hand began pressing into your clit.

“Yes sir…” Your fingers twisted into his white hair trying to pull him closer to you to close the distance between your lips.

He didn’t budge. Keeping his lips right on top of yours but not touching. “A little louder baby I can’t hear you.”

You could feel your orgasm starting to build and your eyes instinctively closed as you let your head fall back against the mirror. A needy moan slipping past your lips.

Dabi growled and bit your nipple hard, pulling on it with his teeth. Your eyes shot open and you screamed. “YES SIR! Ah… Dabi

He cooed in your ear, “Shhh, such a quick leaner. Look at you fucking falling apart on just my fingers.” He curled his fingers making you gasp in pleasure as he managed to hit that spot over and over again. “Good girls get to cum. Have you been a good girl y/n?”

You were panting now, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes. “Yes! Oh god please let me come daddy!”

The sound that left Dabi’s lips was practically feral. “Daddy huh? Well Daddy is going to fucking ruin this pussy. After I’m done with you, no one else will be ever be good enough. I’ll make you cum again and again until the only though in that empty little head is ‘thank you daddy’.” His fingers picked up the pace and you felt yourself tighten around them.

“That’s it baby. Show daddy how much you like it. I want to hear how much you love Daddy’s fingers!”

You cried out as you felt your orgasm take over. Waves of pleasure taking over you. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you babbled in bliss.

You felt Dabi’s body heat tear away from you momentarily before hearing the shower turn on. Before you had time to react you were scooped up into his arms and he was walking you into the hot spray. You didn’t know when he had, had time to take his clothes off but here he was buck ass naked pulling your back to his bare chest.

There was a seat in there that he had gotten for you. He took a seat and pulled you into his lap. His lips found the juncture where you shoulder met you neck. One of his hands came up to fondle you tit, fingers tweaking your nipple while the other squeezed your hip. “Color?”

You leaned back into him letting your head rest on his shoulder, “Green.”

The hot spray of the shower was hitting your chest and abdomen. You hummed in pleasure as he continued to lavish your neck in kisses.

Then with absolutely no warming he was shoving himself into you in one long hard thrust. The only hint of patience being when he stopped to let you adjust to his size. You screamed and your nails dug into his thighs. “That’s it let me hear you.” He slowly dragged his cock out to the tip before slamming you back on top of it. It was almost painful but in the best kind of way. “Let me hear that sweet little siren song huh? Let me hear the voice that’s so powerful it had a whole hero agency scared shitless.” He thrust into you again his lips at the shell of your ear. “I want to hear the voice that make men crumble to their knees… and I want to know that it’s singing my praises.”

His pace was slow but aggressive. You could already feel your second orgasm building and you couldn’t hold back your moans even if you tried. They only spurred him on.

Suddenly he was standing and flipping you around, so you were bent over holding the chair for support. His hips snapped into you as he picked up the pace. A hot hand came down on your ass cheek before snaking down to your front and playing with your clit again. “Ah fuck… yes. Thank you daddy. Please don’t stop! I’m gonna I-I’m gonna… AH!”

“You’re doing so great baby. You take my cock like you were made for it. No one could take this cock like you do. You’re so good… Cum for me. Come on you can do it, I know you can.”

You rockers your hips back into him a few times before gasping as you started to clench around him. “Oh baby you’re so fucking tight. God you feel so good.” You came even harder than you had the first time and felt your arms give out. You would have fallen forward if Dabi hadn’t caught you.

“Oh no baby doll. I’m not done with you yet… I heard all things, good or bad, come in threes… So, what do you say?” His dick that was still in you twitched. “Think you have another orgasm in you?” He chuckled when you only whined in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He pulled out of you only long enough to turn you around to face him. You couldn’t stop your eyes from roaming over his naked body as this was the first time you had seen it. You thought you saw something that looked like insecurity briefly flash in his eyes, but you didn’t have enough time to ponder it because he was manhandling you once again.

He leaned your back against the shower wall lips finding yours. His fingers ghosted a trail from the side of your breast, down you side, until he reached your knee. He hooked a hand under it before pulling it up until your ankle was resting over his shoulder. He continued to kiss you as he repeated this process to your other leg.

The stretch in your muscles was bordering on uncomfortable as he basically folded you in half like a fucking taco. You didn’t have time to complain though as he thrust his throbbing dick back into you.

It was softer this time though. His forehead leaned on yours as he slowly fucked into you. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes open sweetheart. I need you to look at me. Now open up those pretty eyes for me huh?”

You bit your lip and blushed as you looked into eyes. “Oh no need to be shy now.” His hand came up to push some of your wet hair out of your face. “You are so-“ His hips started to stutter a little. “Fucking perfect.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you are broken, or weak. You are a fucking fighter, you are so strong.”

A broken moan left his lips and you could tell he was almost at his limit. He began to eratically pump into you, hitting that hidden spot inside you every… single… time.

“Please Dabi, I can’t. It’s too much!” You struggled to keep your eyes open but you somehow managed.

“Yes you CAN! COLOR?”

Your hands gripped into his shoulder and you accidentally activated your quirk. You closed your eyes before you could connected with his thoughts, but there was nothing you could do about the skin to skin contact. You were hit with not only your own pleasure but his as well and it immediately overwhelmed the both of you. It was like an endless cycle of pleasure feeding into each other.

“Oh my FUCK! GREEN, GREEN, GREEN! SHIT GREEN!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your legs shook violently with your intense orgasm.

He growled loudly as he released inside of you. “Shit I’m cumming. You took me by surprise you fucking naughty girl.” He pumped into you a few more times before stilling inside of you.

The only sound for the next few minutes was that of your labored breaths. His fingers traced patterns into your skin. You hissed when he finally pulled out of you. He put you feet back on the floor but had to keep his hands on you to keep you steady.

He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of body wash. You felt like putty in his hands. Letting him clean you while massaging your sore muscles. It wasn’t until the water started to grow cold that he wrapped you in a towel and carried you back to your room. You fell asleep sometime after getting dressed for bed. The weight of the past few days finally lifting off of your shoulders.

****

Dabi pulled your sleeping form on top of him slipping his warm hands on your lower back, much like he had the other night. You nuzzled into his neck and sighed. Your small hands gripping his shirt in your sleep.

Later that night he stared at the ceiling as his fingers carded through your hair. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he didn’t need to read too much into what had just happened between the two of you. You had literally asked him for a distraction. If that’s what you needed, then he’d gladly give it to you. He just hoped you didn’t regret it.

He knew this was temporary. He knew soon enough you’d leave here and end up with someone like Bakugo. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He saw the way you looked at each other. There was history there that he couldn’t ignore. Part of him knew you deserved to have someone like Bakugo at you side.

He couldn’t afford to let himself get too attached to you. He was already too close. Any closer and he would never let you leave. He needed to be careful.

*

The next day you woke up to an empty bed, which surprised you because you almost always woke up before Dabi… Oh shit Dabi. Your mind replayed last night’s events and you felt your face heat up. You had asked him to make you feel something and he delivered… three times.

You grudgingly rolled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. The whole way there you practiced what you would say in your head. You expected him to find him sitting in the kitchen with his cocky smirk eating breakfast. You expected sly comments and maybe even an attempt at round 2 on the kitchen counter.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into an empty kitchen. You shrugged thinking maybe he was in his room doing only God knows what.

You headed to the pantry to grab stuff to make breakfast but saw a note written in the most childish handwriting pinned to the fridge.

“Had to run some errands. Try not to die while I’m gone, and don’t leave the house. There’s a phone in the office for emergencies. – Dabi”

You couldn’t stop the feeling of dread that washed over you. He wasn’t here. You were alone. He hadn’t even asked you, he just left.

You nervously made your way around the house checking every single widow and door to make sure they were locked and secured. Your nerves were all over the place. You were definitely giving him a piece of your mind when he got home. You momentarily debated if you should call Katsuki, but after what happened last night you didn’t know if you could face him. You refused to feel guilty for sleeping with Dabi, but you did at least acknowledge that it would hurt Katsuki if he found out, and that made you sad.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You hadn’t had a free day to yourself in a very long time. You used to love days like this. You’d usually order a bunch of take out, pop open a bottle of wine and binge watch TV.

Your circumstances might be a little different now. You may not be able to order take out, but you knew Dabi had a wine cellar and a TV. You snooped around the kitchen before you found some frozen pizzas. This had the potential to be a good fay after all. Maybe a break was what you needed. You still had some lingering anger with him about the whole drowning fiasco, and it your frustration only grew with his little disappearing act.

You didn’t know how long to cook the pizza, so you just guessed. You chuckled at the thought of Dabi coming home to you burning the house down trying to make a pizza.

You took what looked like a very expensive bottle of wine and plopped your ass on the couch. You could watch whatever you wanted, and it didn’t matter because Dabi wasn’t here to be grumpy about it.

You were one pizza, two bottles of wine, and three seasons into your free day, and you were loving it. You hadn’t felt so… normal in a long time.

You were putting a second pizza into the over when you heard the front door slam close.

You held your breath and grabbed the closest thing to you which was a spatula. You held it close to your chest as you slowly rounded the corner. You practically ran straight into a hard wall of muscle. You immediately started swatting at them with a drunken war cry.

“OW! Shit stop it you fucking gremlin it’s just me!” Dabi yanked the spatula from your grasp and used it to swat at your ass. “Seriously you’re in a kitchen full of knives and shit and your first instinct was to grab the spatula.”

You yelped as he swatted at your ass again. “Heyy you’re lucky it wasn’t *hiccup* a knife or I’d ‘ave stabbed you.”

“Oh yeah? I’d be more afraid of you stabbing yourself with how drunk you are.” He took a look around and smirked, “Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

The timer for the pizza went off and you practically jumped out of your skin. “Oh! Pizza! You want some?”

Dabi shook his head, “Unlike you, I’ve had a very, very bad day. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

Your lip stuck out in a pout, “Oh come ooooooon. You’ve been gone *hiccup* all day!” You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around him. You noticed him wince and you pulled away to see your shirt was now covered in blood… his blood. The sight was nearly enough to sober you up on the spot.

“Dabi! What the hell? What happened?”

He tried to take a step away from you, “Nothing, some of my staples just ripped out. It’s not a big deal.”

You grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up. “Staples my ass! Dabi you’ve been stabbed!”

He groaned, “I’m fine! It’s not even that bad. Just a flesh wound.” The smell of smoke came from the oven, “Please take out the pizza before you burn the house down.”

“The pizza! Shit hold on.” You took a step towards the oven but came back and pointed at him. “Don’t. Move. I’ll be right back.”

He wanted to be irritated as he watched you skip off towards the oven. You were a cute drunk. A stupid drunk, but cute all the same. He watched you reach in to grab the pizza without any oven mits like an idiot, “Y/N! Stop! You’re going to burn yourself.”

He hissed through his teeth as he pushed through the pain to shove you away from the oven. You wobbled a little before your eyes settled back on Dabi. “Oops.” You giggled and put on the oven mits and took out the pizza. It was a little charred in some places, but you didn’t seem to mind. “Okay! Game plan… We eat pizza until I’m not drunk and then I sew you up.”

Dabi took a seat in a high bar stool at the kitchen island and you hopped up on the counter to sit practically between his legs. “That sounds like a terrible idea. I can handle it. I told you it’s not that bad.”

You took a huge bite of pizza, “Well if it’s not that bad then it should be something I can handle then.” Dabi opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off by shoving a piece of pizza in in his face. “Nope! No negotiations. Law number eleven accept help when it’s offered!”

He rolled his eyes as he took the slice from you. “You’re fucking stubborn you know that?”

“I am well aware. Now you going to tell me about how you got stabbed?”

He avoided eye contact and nibbled at his pizza. “Nope. That’s between me and the dumbass who was stupid enough to do it.”

You hadn’t expected him to tell you, but it still irked you that he was hiding things from you. “Law number twelve. No lying.”

Dabi could hear the hurt in your voice and he sighed. “I’m not lying, I’m just not telling you.”

You glared at him, “Not telling me is just a lie of omission!”

He brushed your hair out of your face, “Did you learn that in hero school.”

You pressed your cheek into his hand. “Will you please let me know the next time you decide to leave? It was kind of scary being by myself.”

He felt kind of bad for leaving without saying anything but he couldn’t risk you finding out what he was up too. He gave you a smirk, “Aw did you miss me?”

Your eyes looked into his and without any hesitation, “Yes.”

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ll compromise with you. I’ll let you bandage my little cut, but I promise it doesn’t need stitches.”

You smiled and tried to hop off the counter. Your equilibrium was still a little off though because you ended up in Dabi’s lap. He smirked, “After all this time, still falling for me huh?”

*******************************************************************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry @dabislittlemouse@aimee1602 @pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker

[woogyu]

fluffy idol!woozi with 13+30 please~

13. Stop being so cute

30. I'm not jealous! It's just... you're mine!

»»————-　♡　————-««​

notes; I took this one in a slightly different direction, but hope you enjoy!!

Thank you for requesting!!

wc; 1151

Drabble Game Requests | OPEN | Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny

»»————-　♡　————-««

Having a world-famous K-pop idol as your best friend wasn’t always easy… actually, it was rarely easy. There were so many different ways that things could go wrong, from dating rumours to drama to really a whole collection of bad situations. That being said, you really wouldn’t change it for the entire world.

When Jihoon started training you feared that you would never get to see him again, your best friend since the two of you were in diapers. You worried that he would change, move on and forget all about you. But that didn’t happen, he was still your best friend and idol on the side.

It was really by chance that you started helping him with songs, offering a comment here or there. Eventually, you started writing them on your own on top of working with him. Sometimes the songs were just for fun, sometimes he would use them in their albums. You loved being able to contribute in any way you could, and the extra time spent with him down in the studio wasn’t half bad either. You spent a lot of your nights down in his studio, either just hanging out or working on music. You loved time with Jihoon because of how calming it was, he made you feel like you were at home. Though, sometimes you did enjoy spending time with his other friends.

It was impossible not to get to know them from the amount of time you spent around Jihoon. While at first, you were a little shy around the new, and loud, pack of boys, you quickly grew to think of them as family.

“Kim Mingyu if you throw that blue shell at me, I’m.” you started, gritting your teeth as you struggled to keep yourself in first place.

“You’ll what?” he challenged, sending the shell flying straight toward you just before the finish line. You went from first to sixth in an instant. You looked over to the tall boy sitting next to you, shoving him as you fixed him with a glare.

“Now that was just cruel.” You mumbled, pouting as you watched his character do a victory lap.

“All is fair in Mario Kart,” he shrugged, hitting a few buttons on the screen to bring it back to the main screen.

“Let’s go-“ you started before the door opened behind you, cutting off your statement to play around round.

“y/n, I thought we were going to work on that new song?” Jihoon’s voice questioned. You looked back at him and checked the time, you hadn’t even realized how late it was.

“Sorry Ji, I totally lost track of time” you admitted, standing up and gathering your things. Before leaving the room, you glared at Mingyu.

“This is not over.” You promised the male, earning only a chuckle and roll of the eyes in response.

“Since when do you and Mingyu hang out?” Jihoon asked as you followed him down into his studio. You weren’t expecting that question, he never seemed to mind when you hung around the others in his group.

“Ever since we argued over who would win in Mario Kart.” You explained, face souring as you thought about him beating you. “We are currently 20-22 and I can’t let him win.” You grumbled, fist-clenching as you slid into the familiar computer chair. He picked at his nails, watching you but didn’t respond.

“Sorry I was late, I got caught up in the game…but why ask about me a Mingyu?” you wondered, pursing your lips as you watched your best friend. You could tell from his stiff body language that there was something bothering him. “Mr. Lee Jihoon isn’t jealous of me hanging out with someone else, are you?” you questioned teasingly, figuring that might force him to tell you what was on his mind. You had known him long enough to know when you had to push him to share his thoughts.

“I’m not jealous!” he exclaimed, his eyes flashing to yours as he grimaced. You raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s just… you’re mine!” he mumbled, looking away as your eyebrows shot up. Well, you were not expecting that.

“You looked like you were having so much fun and I just… I don’t want to lose you…” he whispered. You could tell how hard it was for him to admit that.

“You’re not going to lose me Ji” you reminded him, bumping his shoulder as you gave him a grin. “You’re still my best friend,” you said, watching as his eyes flicked over to yours.

“I know I’m busy most of the time, but I like having you down here.” He said, running a hand back through his hair.

“Sorry… for lashing out like that. It wasn’t your fault, I’ve just been stressed out lately and took it out on you...” he mumbled, sighing as he ran his hands over his eyes. You smiled watching him. Jihoon didn’t open up easily, he didn’t share his feelings if he could help it. You hated when he closed in on himself.

“I’m sorry too, for pushing you to talk about it.” You admitted, he had only lashed out because of your comment.

“It’s just… you’re allowed to talk to me when something is bothering you,” you told him. The last thing you wanted was there to be some invisible wall between the two of you.

“I’ll work on it” he relented, leaning back into his chair as he stared up at the ceiling. “I just don’t want to say the wrong thing and push you away” he admitted, closing his eyes. He was always worrying about something; he had been like that since you were kids. Most people thought he was just quiet and cold, but you knew he just got caught up in his own thoughts a lot of the time.

“Stop being so cute” you grinned, watching as he cracked a smile and turned toward you. “Do you want me to kick you out of here? It is my studio you know” he teased. You huffed and crossed your arms, turning your head away from him. “You’ll have to drag me out” you declared, sinking lower into the chair.

“You’re on a chair that rolls” he deadpanned, watching as you quickly grabbed the edge of the desk. “And what about it?” you shot back, laughing as he used his foot to try and push you toward the door.

“So… we’re okay?” he asked after a few moments, his eyes a little hesitant.

“Lee Jihoon you’ve been stuck with me since we were kids and I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon,” you told him definitively, watching as an amused smile spread over his features.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way” he responded. You knew no matter what life decided to throw at the two of you that you would always have each other.

[angelicyoongie]

the crimson shell

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 1.9k — warnings: mild stalking, near drowning, mentions of eating humans — notes: just wanted to contribute something to mermay! this is also my first time attempting to do anything in the realms of yandere (and mermaids!), so pls be nice lol. in this universe everyone is referred to as a mermaid, no matter what gender they are. this will most likely be a two or three part series with jk growing more and more obsessed as he gets y/n into his scaly clutches :)

Part I / II / III / IIII

— summary: you had always found comfort in being at the beach, often spending hours just watching the waves lap against the shore. but unbeknowst to you – something had been watching you back.

You inhale deeply, enjoying the salty smell that so uniquely belongs to the ocean. The last rays of sun are slowly disappearing behind the horizon, painting the skies and the waves in hues of deep pink and purple. You’re going to miss this view.

You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse sand as you let the gentle breeze caress your face. You’ve been looking forward to this for years, but now that your departure is so imminent, it feels more scary than liberating. The time has come to finally leave your home behind, and you feel a pang of regret as you realize you might not see your friends or family for a very long time to come.

Years of saving up your measly paychecks have finally paid off, and you’re setting sail for an island you’ve been hearing constant murmurs about for the last few months. Originally, you were only going to travel to the next kingdom over, hoping to find more suitable work there to help your parents stay afloat. But the talk of the mystery island abundant with riches piped your interest more than you would like to admit – and you’ve never been one to shy away from adventure.

However, you weren’t stupid enough to just blindly trust the rumours milling around your little town. In fact, you wholeheartedly believed it to be a scam until a familiar face suddenly turned up in the town square only a few weeks ago.

You hadn’t seen Jimin ever since he set sail for the unknown six months ago; and so everyone, including yourself, had presumed that your talkative neighbour had met an ill fate, and was floating at the bottom of the sea. You realized you couldn’t have been more wrong when Jimin returned with riches you never expected you would ever lay eyes on, his whole body adorned with various diamonds and gold chains.

It was Jimin who had urged you to seek out the same island, saying he barely even took a handful of all the treasures that were there. He had warned you about a price that would need to be paid, but you weren’t all that concerned. If a sea witch wanted your first born, then fine, you weren’t too keen on children anyway.

You busy yourself with drawing patterns in the sand, lost in your own thoughts as you try to remember your little mental checklist of all the things you wanted to see before you left tomorrow morning. You’re pretty sure this beach was the last one. It’s not much; just a short stretch of sand at the edge of the hill leading up to your family’s cottage, but it has always felt like home.

You come here every evening without fail, using the time to relax and breathe. The last month has felt a little different though, even if you don’t like to admit it. You’ve always stayed on the beach quite late, there’s nothing you know of that can rival the starry sky that appears once the sun had set. But lately, you’ve found yourself retreating back up the hill before the night could fully greet you.

It feels like you’re being watched.

It’s silly of course, considering the only thing in front of you is the quiet ocean. You would have noticed if there was something there, but still, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is out there – observing you.

It always happens so suddenly; one second you’ll be merely enjoying the view, and in the next, a sense of dread would knock into you so hard it left you breathless. It would make your neck feel tight, as if someone was gripping your skin, and the hair on your arms would rise in alarm.

Even just the memory is enough to give you goosebumps, and you let out an annoyed huff at how easily you seem to be able to scare yourself. You dust the sand off your hands before you rub them up and down your arms, trying to calm down the twinge of anxiety that’s slowly spreading through your body.

You don’t want to remember your last night here as something uncomfortable, so you let your gaze sweep over the beach one last time.

Something catches your eye just as you’re about to turn. Something red is ebbing and flowing along with the waves, and you hesitantly step forward until you can see it clearer. It’s nothing more than a pretty shell, but you’ve never seen that tone of red before. You snatch it up from the water before the tide can pull it out, slowly turning it back and forth to study it. The last sliver of light seems to catch on to it just right, giving the red a gorgeous golden shimmer.

You let out a low gasp of wonder, trailing your fingers along the scalloped pattern. It’s stunning, and you can’t help but think that it’s the beach’s way of saying its last goodbye. Maybe it was giving you a parting gift.

You clutch the shell gently in your hand, a soft ‘thank you’ slipping past your lips as you watch the ocean fondly. You notice a few sudden ripples in the quiet sea a little further out from the beach, but it has started to grow so dark that it’s impossible to make out anything below the soft waves. Chalking it up to just being fish, you shrug it off, finally turning on your heel to walk back up the hill to your family’s little cottage.

--

You’ve officially been on the sea for a week, and you’ve already grown tired. The small group of fellow villagers that you left with have already started getting on your nerves, and you’re not sure how you’re going to make it all the way to the island and back without going insane. Jimin said you would need to travel north for about two weeks, so you try to find solace in the fact that you’re halfway there already.

The journey so far has been pretty smooth, but the dark clouds on the horizon seem to be rolling towards you at an alarming speed. You dig into the pocket of your trousers, finding comfort in running your fingers along the shell you found on your beach. You can only hope it serves as a token of good luck, because the storm heading straight for you really doesn’t look good at all.  

It feels like you only blink before the rain is pelting down against the ship, harsh waves tossing the wooden boat back and forth to its whims. You’re clinging on the side with all of your might, but the floor has turned wet and slippery, and it makes it even harder to stay on board with all the vicious tossing and turning.

You feel the electricity before it hits, the static making your hair stand up straight right before a bolt of lightning slams into the mast. You can barely hear the loud creak of wood over the screams from the other travellers, you gaze transfixed on the large wooden pole as it starts tipping.

You’re frozen in place; all of your muscles locking up in terror as you realize the mast is coming straight at you. You’ll be crushed in you don’t move, but you can’t. You close your eyes instinctively as the looming shadow rushes towards you, harshly sucking in one last breath of air. You feel the ship lurch, and your fingers slip from the bars you were clinging to as you’re tossed overboard.

A blanket of silence wraps around you the moment you hit the water, all of the screaming and creaking of wood suddenly ceasing as the cold liquid mercilessly drags you downwards. You can see the shadow of the ship growing smaller and smaller, your last breath escaping you as it bubbles up towards the surface.

You flail your hands desperately, your body too low on air to properly function. Swim, swim, swim! Your mind is screaming, but your heart has already accepted the rush of water filling your lungs, and the heavy feeling in your bones.

Your vision grows hazy, the blues and greys of the ocean blurring together. A streak of red suddenly breezes by your line of sight, but your tired brain only managing to provide you with the fleeting thought of fish? before the exhaustion truly sets in. You can hear a low series of muddled clicking noises all around you, but it only seems to make you even more drowsy.

Sleep, a deep voice whispers in the back of your mind. And slowly but surely, all of the mixed colours fade into nothingness.

--

It wasn’t that hard for the mermaid to steer your ship in the wrong direction. The ship was in his waters, under his control, and the storm that suddenly picked up in the northeast presented itself like the perfect opportunity.

He had been trailing after your ship ever since it left the dock, making sure he could strike at the right moment. He couldn’t believe the weird creature he had been watching for months was finally coming willingly to him, but it was only right considering you had accepted his courting gift.

And now, as you were sinking to the bottom of the sea, you were finally his. The mermaid circled you excitedly at a distance as your limbs flailed around underwater. He tried to tell you to calm down – that the fight against his ocean was futile – but you just wouldn’t stop trying.

The mermaid bristled in annoyance, his crimson tail cutting through the sea harshly as he watched the stupid creature fight a losing battle. He needed to take it home now, before his brothers could realize it was here.

Finally, your body stopped moving. The mermaid quickly closed in, strong arms wrapping around your torso as he stared into your unfocused eyes. While he didn’t exactly know what you were, and why you had one limb too many, he had at least gathered enough information to understand that you needed to breathe in that pesky air in order to survive.

He pushed up, letting the currents easily carry him up towards the surface. Of course, he made sure to emerge far from the sinking ship. While the gurgling screams usually were music to his ears – he couldn’t keep you too close to the food. His brothers would be here in no time to feast, and he couldn’t let his new pet be swallowed up before he even had a chance to play with it.

The creature sucked in a shuddering breath as oxygen finally flowed through its veins again. It didn’t take long before all his precious water was being expelled from the creature’s lungs, the mermaid watching in displeasure as it was replaced with that wretched air instead. It just seemed so .. inconvenient.

You didn’t wake however, the near drowning having swept away all of your energy. The mermaid threw one last look towards the remains of the ship, thin lips curling into a pout as the gurgling was replaced by bloody shrieks. He was hungry too, but it seemed like it would have to wait until his pet was out of harm’s way.

Well, at least until it was out of his brothers’ way. The mermaid didn’t like making promises he wasn’t certain he could keep.

[wallwriterstuff]

The Good I Come Home To ||Leon S. Kennedy x Female!Reader|| Part 1

Warnings: Angsty, PTSD Leon being very jumpy and shell-shocked, mentions of sex. 

Words: 3318

Summary: Originally posted to my Archive of Our Own Account. 

Part 2 can be found here

Leon has kept it very casual with you for months, seemingly oblivious of the growing feelings you harbour. You have no idea just how badly it hurts him to leave you every time until he tries to cut you out of his life completely. You have other ideas. You just have to persuade Leon they're the right ones.

Leon S. Kennedy was a complicated man in many respects, but it was easy to unravel all those complex layers if you started looking at his core values, his sense of purpose. To serve, to protect. Leon was built to be the bodyguard of humanity, the first line of defence between unimaginable horror and the things he loved. Every experience had moulded him into this hard shell of a man, so far from the one people used to know. It had been interesting, really, to see an old friend from the Police Academy approach him and see just how different they had turned out. They both had the eyes of experience anybody in the force acquired over time, but Leon’s were sterner, like an unbreakable stone as opposed to ice you could chip away at and eventually shatter. This old friend of his had a small-town job and apple pie life. He had the white picket fence and the wife who kissed him when he came home to freshly made dinner. His children were doing well at school.

Leon had listened like his life was a whole other world away. It was visible in his eyes, though he carefully kept it off his face, that the comparison between each man actually disturbed him. You hadn’t meant to see of course. It was pure coincidence you’d happened to be in the supermarket, walking down that same aisle. His old friend had hit the barricade you so often hit when you asked. You’d stopped questioning it after a few months of back and forth and the looming threat of losing him became a dark and unbearable burden.

“So er, heard about the huge explosion at Raccoon. Where’d they place you after that?”

“Nowhere. I work for the government now.”

“Oh damn. FBI?”

“Something like that.”

His job was the complicated topic. Classified and bad enough to put a certain brand of darkness behind his eyes when you asked, it was  best left untouched by your hands because it was hidden beneath the many layers of the man you’d only ever been allowed to scratch the surface of – literally and figuratively. Beyond his core values, the simplicity of Leon S. Kennedy lay in his needs. He was a flesh and blood man after all. He was guaranteed to need to eat, to do laundry, to shower, to relieve himself. These simple needs were what made him somewhat predictable to you. On his best days, when he text you days or hours before, you were almost guaranteed to be wined and dined. Okay so the wine and dine option was sometimes more like beer and take-out pizza but it was always paid for by him if you bought the alcohol.

When he was feeling a little less than okay, you’d get no outright statement of his desire to see you, but he’d hedge around the topic and wait for you to ask him, like he was afraid to be a nuisance. You’d only get this awkward and prompting behaviour from him an hour or two before he showed up which left you little time to prepare, but a quick shower was always on the cards. In his worst moments, he’d give no warning and simply show up at your house with smouldering eyes that demanded your attention and everything else you had to give him. God help you, you always gave him everything. As simple as his needs were, as his feelings on the matter appeared, yours were much more complicated. Leon S. Kennedy had made it clear from the start when he met you at the bar that fateful night, all chiselled jaw and playful eyes, that nothing serious was to come of this.

It had progressed to a proper agreement when you both seemed to just keep running into each other. You were free to date, if you so pleased, and he’d stop showing up. He’d be gone like dust in the wind, untraceable and impossible to bring back. You didn’t want that. Until the day either of you became tied down you had agreed you were exclusive. You sated each other only. It was hard to keep to that promise all the time when he was away for long periods, but you remained true to your word anyway, and that was how it had stayed for a solid eight months. Leon came back to a bed you kept free just for him and left in the morning like it was no more than a pit-stop on a long and winding road.

You suspected he wasn’t proud of it. You thought sometimes you could see something softer in his eyes, something that made you think he wished for something more than he was already giving you. There were moments his eyes lingered when he said goodbye, times his hands stayed on you a little longer than they usually did. On rare occasions, when he was just a bit too drunk after what you guessed was a bad job, you let him sleep it off with his arms around you and listened to the whimpers in his sleep with an aching heart. Leon consistently let you have his body, gave you the briefest glimpses at the big heart he held so carefully hidden away, but never once did he let you into his mind. As much as you loved being with him, you had never truly been with him at all. You’d never truly connected with him beyond anything physical. It pained you to know you never would. You cared for him too much. You saw the deep pain he carried with him everywhere, and you’d never be able to alleviate that load because he wouldn’t let you.

You had to pause the TV to be sure you’d actually heard anything at all, but when you heard the noise again it was stronger, bolder. Knocking. Glancing at the clock, you turned the TV off with a frown. There weren’t many people who would come knocking at this late hour, and you didn’t know if your heart was in it tonight to let him in when he would forever keep you out. As if on cue, when you opened the door to a dripping wet Leon, thunder rumbled and rattled the open window in the corridor of your apartment block. A small puddle of water had formed on the windowsill, dripping in as the harsh rain battered the glass. Leaving your door propped with the door stop you kept nearby for moments like these, you crossed to the window to close it and lock out the weather. You felt sullen enough without the storm clouds invading your house.

“Leon if you’re here to drink that’s okay but I’m not really up for-“ you cut yourself off, uncertain all of a sudden as to what it was he was here for. His needs were always so simple, the looks and actions associated with them something you had come to learn to recognise without much conscious thought. This was entirely new. Those piercing blue eyes were sullen, fighting between being as hard as sapphire and as soft as calm ocean waves. What was frightening was the depth of the ocean you saw. It was like staring into an abyss of torment. Red-ringed and with whisky on his breath, it didn’t take a genius to realise Leon had been crying and was in fairly bad shape. Hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, he stared at you through those horribly complex eyes, his mouth half open like he wanted to say something but couldn’t force the words out. He was pale, breaths even but heavy, like he had to physically remind himself to huff out each one.

Wordlessly, you took him by the hand. His skin was freezing to the touch and you guessed the faithful jacket had done little to keep the bitter cold from seeping into his exposed skin. Your theory was proven right when his cheeks were just as cold to the touch.

“I…” you thought he might say more but it was like watching a caveman learn to talk. There were only sounds, no words. He was usually very skilful with his tongue but tonight those talents were nowhere to be found. Pushing his jacket from his shoulders you hung it to dry over the back of your sofa, hoping the radiator would do its job and leave it toasty for him when he inevitably put it on to leave you again. You ignored the stinging in your chest at the thought. Leon didn’t need you to be petty right now. Truthfully, you were frightened. Leon’s carefully constructed composure had been shattered by something and you didn’t think you wanted to know what was strong enough to shatter this man’s rock hard exterior and cut him so deeply. He stood dumbly in your hallway, and you gently pushed him to the edge of the sofa to take off his shoes so they wouldn’t traipse water into your home.

“Shhh Leon, just come with me.” You coaxed him back onto socked feet, leading him down the hall to your bathroom.

“No…no Y/N I, I don’t…” he swallowed.

“Do you trust me Leon?” you asked him, keeping your voice gentle like you were cajoling a wild animal into eating from your palm. Leon nodded without question and you smiled slightly. “Then just follow for me now.” You kicked open your door and led him to the edge of the tub, grabbing a towel from the shelving units there and placing it on the sink.

“What are you doing?” he could barely speak above a whisper, looking confused and upset and lost all at once.

“I’m going to run you a nice hot bath before you catch your death. I don’t know how long you were in the rain for Leon but you’re frozen to the bone.” You said calmly, putting the plug in the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. Leon didn’t answer, merely watched you with the eyes of a man so lost in trauma he couldn’t find his way back to the surface world and make sense of the happenings around him. While you waited for the water to turn steamy, you rubbed at his hair with the towel in your hand to dry it. You knew something was incredibly wrong when he let you mess it up like that. There were very few instances you were allowed to touch his hair and you had to always, always comb it back into place or suffer the consequences. Occasionally, you took a break to fill the tub with some of your prized bath oils. Lavender, camomile, jasmine, all your favourite scents from a beautiful kit a colleague had bought you as part of secret Santa last year.

He didn’t comment as the room filled with intoxicating, relaxing scents, nor when you checked the temperature again and told him he could get in when he was ready. He held the towel in both hands, staring at the cotton as if it might hold some answers.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. You nodded once.

“Have you eaten anything yet?” you asked him. He nodded once, but he didn’t meet your gaze. He was lying you were sure. “Okay. Take as long as you need in here, I’ll be about when you feel ready to see me alright?” you promised, leaning up to kiss his cheek softly. Your lips lingered a little too long, but Leon didn’t move away. He closed his eyes as if the contact was all he had wanted and more. As the door closed behind you you heard the soft, muffled sob he tried so hard to bury in the towel, and your heart broke a little more. Something had shattered Leon S. Kennedy and it didn’t sit well with you at all to see him this vulnerable. He needed the space right now to get his mind back in order but once he did, when he was ready to face you, you weren’t sure you’d get an explanation from him. He’d shut down every time you’d ever asked for one before.

He’d woken screaming one night, lashing out so violently that if you had been sat upright there’d have been no way to avoid his fist and he’d have knocked you out cold. When you tried to ask what was wrong, he’d simply snapped at you to leave him be and left your apartment so fast there could have been a fire under his ass. So, what did you do? Did you just not even try? He hadn’t made a move on you, had specifically said no when he saw you heading in the direction of the bedroom. But if he wasn’t here for sex what was he here for? It only added to your anxiety that you really had no clue what he wanted if it wasn’t your body he’d come for, and though part of you thought that should make you angry, another part of you hoped that that meant it was something more that he was after this time. The kind of more you wanted.

No. You had to try for him. You couldn’t let him go on like this. He didn’t have to fight the war in his head alone, not when you were here. At least, if he wanted to go it alone, he could have someone stable waiting with a safety net if he stumbled. For now you’d let him linger and soak in the tub, and you’d make the most out of the ingredients you had in the fridge. If he stayed, he could eat it off a plate. If he didn’t…well, you’d make some in a container in case. Pasta bake had always been your father’s speciality and it had been your favourite as a child, was still your comfort food now. Chicken and bacon sizzled, pasta boiled, and you grated the cheese to the rhythm of your favourite song playing softly on the radio while the milk and butter warmed on the stove. You snagged a piece of bacon from the wok and let the salty flavour burn your tongue.

With your masterpiece constructed and more cheese grated on top, you slid the dish into the oven for it to crisp up and set your timer, setting about washing the utensils next. It kept your hands busy, kept your mind from wandering too much, but even the sudsy water couldn’t quite keep your mind from ticking over. Why had Leon come here in the pouring rain? What had spooked him so badly he’d thought, in his less than coherent state, that he needed to be here in your apartment? Did the fact he’d come to you mean anything at all or did he just happen to be nearby? You put the saucepan a little harder than necessary into the rack when it slipped from your hands, jumping and cursing to yourself at the loud clang it had made.

“Y/N!” Leon almost roared your name in pure, abject terror. Eyes wide you rushed for the bathroom, hands still soapy and dripping water. He was already out of the bathtub, naked and scrambling through his jacket until he came up with a gun of all things, aimed right at you as you burst through the door. A shriek escaped you and you immediately dropped to the floor, hands above your head.

“Leon it’s me!” you begged. Harsh breathing filled the room.

“Where is it?” he demanded. You peeked up at him from below your arms, lowering them slowly. He was half-crouched, eyes wild and fixated on the door that led back to your room. He offered you a hand. “Come on, get up and get behind me, where is it?” he repeated the question more firmly now.

“Where’s what? Leon I – there’s only us here. I just dropped a saucepan.” You breathed. His expression faltered, confusion flooding his features first , then guilt, and finally grief. His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, held it, exhaled slowly. He lowered his gun after a few more deep breaths.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking a little like a kicked puppy. You shook your head, slowly pushing to your feet so as not to startle him. His skin was tinged pink, little suds clinging to the ends of his hair. The timer went off in the kitchen and Leon flinched again, hand tensing around the gun. You soothingly placed your hand on his arm.

“It’s just the timer. We’re the only people here Leon, nothing’s going to hurt us. How’s about you dry off and come have something to eat?” you suggested. He blanched at the mention of food and you frowned. “You don’t have to eat everything, just a little bit, you look really pale.” You reached for the towel and held it out to him until he reluctantly nodded and wrapped it around his waist. You left the door slightly ajar and headed for the kitchen to switch off the damn timer. He was so jumpy, so eager to jump to your defence. You plated up a small portion, not wanting to put him off with a large one. You didn’t feel particularly hungry yourself but you’d had a proper meal earlier in the evening, a cup of tea would suffice, camomile and honey would soothe your nerves. Leon had a liking for peppermint you knew. Maybe if he was nauseous that would help him eat? Tea and pasta bake served you sat opposite his place, one hand wrapped around the handle of your mug and the other pulled up to your mouth, your teeth nibbling the side of your nail.

“You’ll make your thumb sore.” He lingered in the doorway like he wasn’t sure if he should sit down or run away. You dropped your hand and placed a more welcoming smile on your lips, nodding to the plate.

“Chicken and bacon pasta bake. It’s good.” You invited. Hesitantly, Leon shuffled to the chair and sat down. You didn’t push him to talk. Months of being with Leon had assured you that pushing would only clam him up further, and you wanted to pry him open tonight. With a sinking feeling, you realised it might be the last night you ever saw him. He’d let himself be extremely vulnerable to you already and you weren’t the type of person to see this kind of trauma and let it go unchecked. You’d want to check in on him, you’d want to help him feel better, and Leon didn’t appreciate the questions you’d have to ask to get the kind of help he needed right. He sighed slightly, picking up the fork and taking a small bite. He looked physically sick for the first few mouthfuls, and you made an effort to distract him with small talk about the weather, your day and all its mundane happenings.

He seemed enraptured by your very voice, soaking in every syllable that crossed your lips and mindlessly working his arm and mouth to clear the plate and drain the mug in front of him.

“Can I have a bit more? It’s really good.” He surprised you with his request but you obliged him, spooning some more on his plate.

“If you’re that partial to it you can take some home to.” You said simply. He nodded once, clearing the second portion with ease and looking much better for it. The colour had returned to his cheeks and he looked a little more put together than before. You settled back in your chair, watched him clean his plate and put it in the drying rack. It was a courtesy you’d never have asked for but were grateful for nonetheless. He didn’t turn around though, keeping his back to you and tightening his grip on the countertop.

[iphoenixrising]

DickTimWeek2021 Day 2

** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU

Welp. Time to break some hearts.

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”

“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”

Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.

He’s riding the concussion train with 

(J)

Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 

Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.

“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”

“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”

“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”

“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”

And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.

It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.

Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.

**

His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 

Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.

Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.

“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.

“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”

“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.

“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”

A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.

He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 

The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.

He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.

It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.

**

Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.

The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.

“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”

“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”

Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.

Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.

Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”

Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.

But, well. Dick was Batman.

His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.

Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.

**

After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 

Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.

He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.

He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.

**

Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.

Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 

It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.

It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.

It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 

It’s a guaranteed win.

It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.

The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 

Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.

When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –

– anything.

The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.

Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.

And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.

And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –

The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.

**

The Titans make it for the service. 

Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.

Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 

Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 

Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.

Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.

In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.

Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 

(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)

Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 

When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.

**

Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”

He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 

“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”

“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–

–the Speed Force.

“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”

The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”

The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.

The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.

**

They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 

[sunshineseguin]

take me back to the night we met || mat barzal

pairing: mathew barzal x fem!reader

summary: months after the end of your relationship, mathew still struggles to come to terms with losing you. he sees you everywhere and in everything he does. what sticks with him the most is the night you met.

warnings: break-up angst, alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety & a near panic attack, swearing, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), possible grammatical errors, flashbacks are in italics!!

word count: 6,371

author’s note: i wrote this fic inspired by the song ‘the night we met’ by lord huron so i definitely recommend listening while reading! i wrote this fic as a standalone and don’t plan on writing a second part. feedback is always appreciated, i read everything even if you put it in the tags.

check out my players list & prompt list if you’d like!

Mathew knew it wasn’t a good idea to go out, especially on a Sunday night with an early practice in the morning. The season was about to start and he knew he had every reason to be just as amped up about it as his teammates. He should be cheering with them and drinking beers carelessly like he wouldn’t regret it in the morning. Yet, he couldn’t. The regret that he was already carrying on his shoulders was enough to last him a lifetime. Instead, he was gulping down whiskey on the rocks like it was water and he was stranded in the Sahara Desert, wallowing in his own self pity as he had been for months.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and glanced up at Anthony who gave it a squeeze. The blonde smiled, but it was one of sympathy, his bright blue eyes swimming with concern for his best friend. Mathew almost scoffs.

“How ya doin’, man?” Anthony asks and glances towards Anders who’s watching them both closely.

The raven haired male simply shrugged half heartedly in response. He knew his captain was worried about him, the whole team was for that matter. He hadn’t been right for a while and nearly closed himself off completely. He didn’t join in on the playful chirps at morning skate or reply to Anthony’s invites of golf with the boys. He didn’t go to the team cookouts. He barely mustered a reply when Trotz was ripping into him for being so unfocused. The guys were starting to realize they only ever saw him on the ice or drowning himself in the hard stuff at the bar. He was a walking shell of the man he had been a year ago.

“What happened, Barzy?” Anthony sighed, moving to stand in front of his friend so that he could meet his eyes. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Mathew saw a notification pop up on his phone that his Uber was approaching, giving himself the perfect opportunity to get out of his best friend’s inevitable interrogation. He knew the team was only going to let this go on for so much longer before sitting him down and making him talk about his feelings. He was already dreading all of the things Anders had to say but hadn’t yet. He tossed back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, not even feeling it burn its way down his throat with the amount he’d already consumed that night. He stood from his stool, a bit unsteady on his feet as he pats Anthony on the shoulder leaves him with few words before heading out.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me.”

The bar was definitely over what capacity should allow that night. The bar was swarmed as people shouted their drink orders at the poor bartenders who were scurrying around like mice. Patrons were spilling out onto the dance floor, packed in like sardines to the point that you could hardly move. You pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering worthless apologies to people who weren’t even listening as you desperately searched for your friends. You’d lost them over twenty minutes ago and had lost all hope in finding them.

You were starting to feel claustrophobic amidst the sweaty bodies pressed against you, chest growing tight the longer you spent in the crowd. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on you as your head grew fuzzy. The Long Island Iced Teas you’d been consuming since you got there three hours ago certainly didn’t help. You forced your way through the crowd and to the exit of the bar, shoving people who wouldn’t move as you tried to get air into your lungs.

You stumbled out of the doors to the bar, ignoring the odd looks people heading inside sent you. Your knees felt weak as you braced yourself against the wall. Hand shaking, you pressed it to your chest to feel that your heart was rapidly pounding away. You closed your eyes and did all you could to focus on your breathing and get yourself to calm down. You hadn’t had a panic attack in some time, sophomore year of college the last you could recall, having learned what triggered them and how to keep the panic from overcoming you.

Mathew was standing farther down, away from the never ending flow of people coming and going from the bar’s entrance. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out at the street with a scowl. He and Anthony were supposed to be leaving together, walking back to their shared apartment building a few blocks away. The blonde male had been busy when Mat stepped out, chatting away with some pretty redhead who’d caught his eye early in the night. He was about ready to make the walk by himself if his friend didn’t show himself in the next five minutes.

He saw you out of the corner of his eye, alone and trembling without so much as a jacket. He looked around to see if anyone you might know was near, but no one was paying you any mind. He was overcome with a sense of worry as he stared at you, not knowing if some sleazebag slipped something in your drink or if you had some kind of medical condition. He found himself moving closer to you and asking, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” you stated breathlessly, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “I just need a second.”

You stood there for another moment until you had yourself composed, finally standing up straight when it didn’t feel like your knees would give out anymore. You weren’t expecting to open your eyes and find the person attached to the voice that just spoke to you still standing there. His hazel eyes were filled with worry as they flickered over your frame. You were too busy gawking to notice his genuine concern.

“Did something happen in there? Do you need me to call someone?” the handsome stranger asked, his gaze finally settling on yours.

“N-No,” you stuttered sheepishly, clearing your throat and blinking quickly as if that would make the nervousness go away. “It’s lame, actually, I lost my friends and… The crowd was a bit much.”

Mathew’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he knew something traumatic hadn’t happened and a laugh passed through his lips. He offered you a smile and replied, “Yeah, that is kind of lame.”

You scoffed playfully and rolled your eyes, feeling your face heat up slightly. He laughed again and shook his head a bit, saying, “I kid, I kid. This place does get pretty rowdy on the weekends.”

“Not to be completely cheesy but, I take it you come here often?” you asked with a smile, wrapping your arms around your middle as the cool New York air started to seep into your skin. The adrenaline from your near panic attack had kept you from realizing how cold it was out and you’d left your jacket inside at your table. Hopefully one of your friends would grab it despite the drunken escapades they were partaking in.

“Pretty often, yeah,” Mathew grinned at the question. He was sure you hadn’t intended to use it as a pickup line, yet he found himself hoping there was genuine interest laced behind your words.

He shrugged off his black bomber jacket when he noticed you shivering and held it out to you. As you opened your mouth to protest, the look on his face told you that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. So you took the item from his hands and slipped in on with a gracious ‘thank you’ once you were swallowed in its warmth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Mat,” he replied while shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

It was silent for a moment between you, neither knowing exactly what to say. Mathew didn’t know if you were intending to head back inside and enjoy your night. While he was more than ready to go home ten minutes ago, he was now enamored by you, and wanted to do anything to stay in your presence. Usually, he was quick witted and able to charm a girl with a few simple words. In front of you he was drawing a blank, afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring you off.

Seeing you shyly toy with the ends of his sleeve, a nervous smile curling on your lips as you looked at his feet had a surge of confidence flowing through him. He offered, “Would you want to grab a coffee? I know a place that makes the best homemade crepes.”

The memory hit Mathew like a freight train as he stepped out of the doors of the bar. He was left staring at the wall, at the very spot he spoke to you for the first time. He couldn’t feel the dull ache in his chest, having numbed himself with whiskey that was far too expensive. He turned to walk down to the street to wait for his Uber, but stopped short as he caught a glimpse of a woman walking by.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared after her. It was as if time slowed down, everything moving in slow motion but her. Everything was as he remembered from that night. The way her hair was styled, the dress that stopped halfway down her thighs, the heels that echoed in his head with each step she took. What shook him to his core the most was the jacket sported on her shoulders. From the night he first gave it to her, she would always steal it, claiming it looked better with most of her outfits than his own. He never argued, because he agreed, and he would never turn down a chance to see her in his clothes. It was you — unmistakably you.

Mathew’s feet started moving on their own accord behind you. It was like you were running away, until he realized it was him who was moving in slow motion with the people around him. The streets were bustling with people of all likes, experiencing the enticing New York nightlife. He was weaving through the crowd, calling out your name, desperate, broken and begging you to put back together the pieces of his broken heart.

You kept walking and Mathew was trying his hardest to catch up, but was like with each step he took his feet were growing heavier and heavier. He let out a strangled, frustrated cry as he yelled out your name once more. Suddenly, he was knocked to the side, stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling into the street. He turned to look at the man who just rammed into him carelessly.

“Watch where you’re going, you prick!” he shouted after the man who paid him no mind, receiving a few dirty looks from others.

It was then that he realized everyone was moving in real time again. His breath hitched in his throat as he spun to search for you in the crowd. You were gone. Deep down, he knew you had never been there in the first place. His mind was playing another dirty little trick on him, as it did so often the last few months. His guilty subconscious tormented him with images of you, making him watch you slip away time and time again. The hollow feeling deep within him only grew with every hallucination.

He turned his attention to the building he’d found himself in front of, and if the visions of you weren’t already torture enough, the universe had just thrown something else into the mix. Yet, he found himself making his way up to the door, the bell chiming above his head as he entered the quant diner. He takes a glance around, seeing an old couple at a table on one side of the building and a man by himself at the bartop, a laptop open and headphones in as he had a quiet conversation on what Mathew assumed was a Zoom or FaceTime call. He drops his head and walks to the familiar corner booth then slides into the seat and cancels his Uber.

A moment later, the waitress approaches the table. Mathew meets her eyes and embarrassment floods through him as he takes note of her sympathetic smile. He’s seen the smile a thousand times now from anyone who had an inkling of what he’d been going through.

“Coffee?” she asked softly, knowing the answer before he could even muster a nod.

You slide into the booth, sighing in content as the warmth from the building seeps into your bones. Mathew slides in across from you and the two of you share a shy smile as you meet eyes. Never before had he been so nervous to take a girl out. Maybe it was because you weren’t like the others. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him the first chance you got. You didn’t seem to know who he was or his status in the social hierarchy of the people in Long Island. It was refreshing and terrifying all at the same time.

You both look up as the waitress walks over with a bright smile on her face and asks what you’d like to drink. “Coffee,” the two of you say at the same time. Mathew’s face visibly turns a light shade of pink, and in turn you feel a rush of heat traveling up your own neck. The waitress smiles knowingly.

“Cream, please,” you add.

As the waitress turns to Mathew he says, “Black is fine.”

It’s silent for a moment as you both wait for the waitress to return with your drinks. Your eyes are floating around the diner, taking in some of the unique decor and 80’s flare with a modern twist. Mathew watches you closely and decides he quite likes the way your eyes shine under the glow of the baby blue neon lights. He takes it upon himself to start pointing out some of the historical decor in the building. It’s your turn to admire him and how his eyes light up when he talks about something he finds exceptionally appealing. His lips are curled into a smile as he spouts off facts to you about each item he points out.

He pauses his rant about people not appreciating The Beatles enough when he sees you grinning at him. He smiles sheepishly and diverts his gaze to the steam rising out of the coffee mug just placed in front of him, asking, “What?”

“Nothin’,” you replied with a small shrug, smile never leaving your face. You stirred a splash of cream into your own coffee and quizzed, “I take it as you come here often too?”

Mathew felt his ears grow hot but he still managed to muster up a confident smirk and lifted his eyes to meet yours, “I said best homemade crepes didn’t I?”

“That you did.”

“I usually end up here after a night at the bar and I need to sober up. People say coffee doesn’t work but it sure feels like it,” he explained, “Plus, they serve breakfast twenty four hours.”

The way your eyes lit up when Mathew said that had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He listened as you went on a rant about how breakfast was underrated and you’d kill for pancakes for dinner over a steak most nights. From there, the conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly. You learned how the other liked their eggs cooked and what your drink of choice was. Your favorite colors and favorite scent of body wash. Being with Mathew made you feel as if you’d been sleeping all of these years and were just waking up. Never had you felt so drawn to someone in the way that you were to him, and him the same. Any other night, if he had met a girl in the fashion that he’d met you, he would have had you in and out of his apartment long ago. He wouldn’t be on his third coffee refill with a plate of perfectly cooked strawberry crepes in front of him.

Mathew learned that you hadn’t been in New York long. You’d moved about two months ago and had a fashion design internship with some fancy company he’d never heard of. You were looking to build your own empire in the business. With the way you exuded yourself now that you were comfortable with him and talked with so much passion about your dreams, he didn’t think you’d have any trouble. The drive you had to build a future for yourself wasn’t something he was used to hearing from the women he surrounded himself with.

The famous athlete, something you learned about him in between bites of food, was used to women throwing themselves at him and his teammates. Some of them were just looking to brag that they slept with an Islander, others had more devious intentions. They were after the money Mathew tried his hardest not to spend recklessly - the gifts he could potentially buy. Some wanted his last name, to be in with the WAGs and flaunt their relationship all over social media; to rub it in the face of others that she got what they so desperately wanted. It was part of the reason that he never exclusively dated, too afraid that there were ulterior motives behind sultry whispers and sly smirks.

The diner that had previously been significantly busy when the two of you got there had now cleared out completely. You and Mathew hadn’t realized how long you’d actually been there until you took note of the empty tables. Your waitress was standing in the corner against the wall, looking like she was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram while she waited for you to leave. You and the Centerman had been so lost in each other that you hadn’t realized hours had passed and it was nearly two in the morning.

“I guess we should get out of here, huh?” you asked, hoping the gorgeous man in front of you picked up on the suggestive tone of your voice.

It didn’t seem like he did though with the way his shoulders slumped and he mumbled, “Yeah, I guess we should.”

As Mathew fished his wallet out, he felt you gaze burning into him. You weren’t ready for the night to end and you were hoping he was thinking the same. He looked up and locked eyes with you, holding the stare as you raised a singular eyebrow and a coy smile curled on your lips. Realization crossed the chiselled features of his face and he gave you a smirk before throwing down a good amount of cash on the table. He slid out of the booth and held his hand out to you, giving you a small bow as if you were royalty.

“M’lady?”

Mathew chokes on the very breath in his lungs, his eyes burning as he stared down at the cold, untouched mug of coffee in front of him. It’s no longer black, now a light chestnut color but the splash of cream he’d subconsciously added to it. He had picked that up from you because ‘only psychopaths drink black coffee, babe’. He switched back of course. This was the first time he let himself slip up and fall back into a habit that used to be so comfortable with you.

He swallows thickly and stuffs a generous amount of cash into the black checkbook, far more than what the coffee was worth. He pushes himself out of the booth and avoids the waitress’ eyes as she comes over to collect the payment. He can’t even muster a smile as he mumbles out a ‘thank you’ and exits the diner. Lori, the woman who always gave you the best service there, is left to sadly stare after him. She knows better than to ask what happened to the sweet girl who always used to accompany him.

Mathew walks a couple blocks down to his apartment building, trying not to remember how you’d clung to his arm. How your giggles echoed down the empty streets and your perfume swirled around him. When he closed his eyes he thought he could almost smell it, wondering if traces of you were lingering on the jacket hanging heavy on his shoulders. He still remembers how it felt to have your hands wrapped around his bicep and your hip bumping his as you walked pressed to his side. He enters his building and the feeling is gone as quickly as it came.

He walks into his dark apartment and thinks that it feels colder and colder every night that he comes home alone. He can’t help but take note of your missing pile of shoes by the door that he always used to chirp you for. He hangs his keys on the hook and his eyes linger on the empty spot beside it. He walks past the couch on the way to the bedroom and tries not to think about how bare it looks without the hoodies you used to steal from him littered about.

He strips into his boxers after brushing his teeth and climbs under the chilly sheets. He’s turned on his side, staring at the vacant spot beside him. He can see you there, messy hair splayed out around you and your face smiling back at him. He reaches out and grabs the pillow that used to be deemed yours, pulling it into his chest tightly. Your scent is long gone from the pillowcase, yet he still buries his nose into it and squeezes his eyes shut as if that will bring you back.

As he begins to drift off to sleep, his mind once again tortures him with visions of you. How you stumbled into his apartment the night you met as a mess of teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. You undressed each other on the way to the bedroom, clothes scattered across the floor. Your skin was hot against his as he laid you on his bed for the first time and worshiped every inch of your skin. He remembers your breathy moans in his ear as he filled you up and rocked into you, slow and deep. Your limbs were tangled as you came down from your highs, your head on his sticky chest as he ran his hand over the tangled hair on your head.

He remembers whispering, “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” and you replying, “You’re something special, Mathew Barzal.” The two of you fell asleep like that, with Mathew thinking he could spend forever with you wrapped in his arms.

Mathew awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a weight sitting heavy in his chest. He’s still clutching his pillow as he turns over and looks for you instinctively. When he’s once again faced with the empty space beside him, his heart drops. He flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. It’s the same everyday that he wakes up, replaying the day everything changed like a broken record in his head.

Your whirlwind romance with Mathew happened unexpectedly. While the two of you did click instantly, you certainly weren’t expecting it to be so serious so fast. He was a famous hockey player who was on the road most of the year. You thought, at most, you would be someone he called when he was home in New York because you were convenient. Instead, you got the fancy dinner dates and spontaneous trips to Philly when he played the Flyers. You got a bouquet of flowers at your door when he was off on a roadie. You got to meet Anthony and enjoy quiet nights in just drinking beers and mocking shitty reality TV. You had moved into his apartment almost completely after only four months without either of you really realizing — yet neither of you stopped it.

The relationship you had with Mathew was unique. It was something people dreamed of and hoped to find. You were Twin Flames; two halves of one soul that united. You fell for each other so hard and so fast it made you dizzy. Before you knew it, a year had passed. You’d completed your internship and your boyfriend was a rising star. You had built a strong foundation in New York and it was potentially where you could put down your roots and live out the rest of your life, yet you had bigger dreams and plans for yourself. Something you hadn’t been completely honest with Mathew about.

You were scared. Scared of the unknown complications and challenges you could face. The two of you had moved so fast you were having trouble differentiating between fantasy and reality — if this is really what you wanted. What if you settled down in New York and Mathew was traded to a different team across the country? What if he decided he didn’t want you anymore in a few weeks time, leaving you high and dry? What if you didn’t really love him and you were just convincing yourself that you did? These questions had been plaguing you for weeks, especially when he was away, and it was becoming too much. So you did the cowardly thing and you ran from it.

It was nearing the Stanley Cup playoffs and the Islanders were well on their way to securing a spot, so most of Mathew’s focus had been on hockey. It never bothered you because it was his career. It’s what he did for a living and what he loved, so how could you fault him for that? The roadies seemed to fall closer together and last a little longer. Mathew now knows that’s why he didn’t notice your things slowly disappearing from the apartment then, and he still beats himself up for not realizing that you were slipping away.

He’d been on one of those seemingly long roadies and his flight came in early that morning from Tampa Bay. While they came out victorious, the games had been rough and Mathew was sore. He couldn’t wait to decompress and cuddle up with you for the few days he had off until the next home game. As the Uber pulled up outside the building, he felt exhaustion overcoming him and wanted to sleep the rest of the day away.

He walked through the door, lugging his duffel bag and suitcase, a sigh leaving his lips at the fact that he was finally home again. The ease he felt was quickly replaced with panic and confusion when his eyes landed on the suitcases in the foyer. His blood ran cold in his veins as he dropped his bags and called out your name with a panicked tone. The apartment remains silent so he quickly makes his way to the bedroom, pushing the door open to find you sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. His own rapid heartbeat is pounding in his ears as he pulls at his tie and moves towards you.

He drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, his eyes full of concern as he meets your tear filled ones. The pads of his fingers are rough and warm as he takes your hand in his own and whispers, “Why are your bags by the door, baby? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” your voice breaks as you reply, bottom lip wobbling before a sob wracks your body.

Mathew quickly pulls you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as you cry into his game day suit. Dread fills his body, having never seen you so upset. His heart is in his throat and he feels as if he’s going to be physically ill. He holds you like that, kissing the side of your head and whispering words of affirmation until you can compose yourself. You pull back from him and wipe your wet cheeks but he keeps one hand on the side of your head and the other on your waist.

Then you drop the bomb on him.

You explain that your internship was never a permanent plan to stay in New York. You have a flight in four hours that leaves for Paris. A one way ticket taking you to the fashion capital of the world to start your career. You found a job opportunity so perfect that you’d be stupid to pass up. Mathew wants to be happy for you. He wants to jump for joy and celebrate with you, but you hid this from him. You did exactly what he was afraid of and shared with you within hours of your first meeting. He’s filled with disbelief and anger instead.

“This was your plan the whole time? You hid this from me the last year we’ve been together?” he exasperates, moving to his feet as he starts to pace the room and tug at his hair.

“Everything was so good with us I didn’t want to ruin it. I was going to tell you, Mat, I swear.”

“When?!” he shouts, feeling guilty for a moment when he sees you flinch, but the anger overpowers it. “Because it looks like to me you were just going to leave without so much as a goodbye!”

You shake your head, and squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes as the tears start to well again. You argue, “I knew when your flight was coming in. I wouldn’t just leave you like that.”

“But you are. You are leaving me like that. You clearly have your mind made up about this and didn’t bother telling me,” he rebuttals, “You let me believe for a year that you were in this. I’ve given you one hundred percent, despite the hardships. What did you give me, huh? Fifty at best?”

You’re quiet, not wanting to admit that you hadn’t been all in on the relationship like him, even though you acted like it. Really, you’d had one foot out the door the whole time. Mathew’s voice shakes as he stares at you from across the room and says, “I love you. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

A choked sob wracks through your body at his words and you cover your face with your hands. You knew he was in love with you, even the blind could see how head over heels Mathew Barzal was for you. He starts desperately rambling about how the two of you can make it work. Yes, long distance is hard, but he believes it’s worth it — believes you can love him like he loves you if you’ll take the risk. Why else would you have spent a year with him if some part of you didn’t think so? You put up with his relentless hockey schedule when you had every reason to walk away and live your life like the other twenty somethings you surround yourself with.

You disagree though. Long distance would only complicate things further. The different timezones would be unforgiving to your conflicting work schedules. Mathew often didn’t get long enough breaks to be able to fly out and see you and it be worth it. Plus, an international flight once a month, maybe more? It sounded like a good idea but eventually his wallet would suffer. You certainly couldn’t do it with the salary you were starting at, nor would you risk losing your job by unimportant travel to see a man. It was a negative and closed off way of looking at it on your part, but for both of your sake, it was best that way.

“It’s impossible…”

“It’s not impossible, you just don’t want to try!” Mathew yells, unable to care that his neighbors have more than likely heard every word of your argument.

“Mat, I have had the best year of my life here in New York. I’ve made memories that I could never in a million years forget. You are a part of that. I love you, God, do I fucking love you, but admit it. This was never meant to be long term. Not with the paths our lives are taking. We were never meant to last forever,” you stand from the bed and stare at him across the room, pleading with him to look at it from your perspective. You wanted to leave this in a good place, friends possibly, if he could accept what this was at face value. Two people who loved each other very much, but weren’t meant to be. The cliche ‘right people, wrong time’.

Mathew couldn’t though, he wouldn’t. He was blinded by a rage that he had never felt before. You had wasted his time — a year that he could’ve spent entertaining pretty girls who threw themselves at him for a quick fuck. Partying with his teammates and friends and reveling in his success that was only growing with every game he played. He finds himself wishing he had left you alone that night outside of the bar and just gone home. He lets the fury coursing through his veins take over, and with his fists shaking at his sides, he grits out in a low voice, “Get out.”

His words don’t shock you. You don’t know what other outcome you hoped would come from this. It doesn’t stop the stabbing pain that shoots through the center of your chest though. He won’t even look at you, hard gaze concentrated at your feet with his jaw set tight. You fight the urge to go to him. Wrap your arms around him and take it all back. Promise him you’ll stay even though you’d be sacrificing everything. It wasn’t fair to you, so you force your feet to carry you out of the bedroom and out of his front door for the last time. The sobs come once you’re in the elevator, then again in your friend’s (who was nice enough to give you a ride to the airport) car while they held you.

A few seconds after Mathew hears the front door shut, he’s tugging at his dark hair and letting out an agonizing shout. His breathing is ragged as he paces the room and debates running after you, but what would he say? The argument seemed final. You were set in your plan to take off to France and he couldn’t change your mind — he couldn’t make you stay. So he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows himself to feel the heartbreak, a guttural sob passing his lips.

Mathew closes his eyes and sucks a deep breath into his lungs as the memory fades. His heart is heavy in his chest as he reaches over and retrieves his phone from the bedside table. There’s a text from Anthony sent in the early hours of the morning, asking if he’d made it home safely. He doesn’t reply, instead opening the Instagram app and pulling up your profile.

His breath catches in his throat as he looks at your most recent picture. You changed your hair, a slightly different cut and a different color, but you’re just as breathtaking as he always thought you were. You’re sitting at a cafe with a cup of some fancy brew in front of you and the caption is in French, something about dreams coming true. Though, he’s not focused on some silly caption when he can’t take his eyes off of you. You look happy, wearing a smile he used to see when Anthony or one of your friends would sneak a picture of the two of you. Regret floods his body, the memory of the day you left still fresh in his mind. He thinks about liking the post just to tell you that he still loves you and he hasn’t forgotten about you. He exits out of the app before he allows himself to succumb to that urge.

He forces himself out of bed and into the shower before he’s late for practice. He mulls over in his head whether he should text you or not. He knows you more than likely won’t reply with how things ended all those months ago — now that you’ve moved on and you’re happy without him. He wishes he could too, yet he carries so much guilt for the things he said and allowing himself to have his heartbroken in the first place. He misses you like hell and the never ending visions of you plaguing his mind only makes it intensify.

Mathew heads to the rink in silence. He doesn’t speak to his teammates in the locker room and goes through the motions of practice in a daze. He’s not there completely and everyone can see it in his eyes. Anders is planning to pull him aside, Trotz insisting they have a talk and threatening to bench number thirteen until he gets his shit together. Mathew can tell. No one has tried to speak to him and Anthony keeps throwing him a side glance every few minutes. He prepares himself in the brief post-practice shower.

“Barzy, mind hanging back for a sec?” his captain asks as the other guys begin to filter out of the room.

He huffs out a sound of agreement while fishing his phone out of his duffel bag. His mom usually texts him a few times a week so he needs to let her know that he’ll give her a call later. He nearly drops the device as his eyes hone in on one message. Anders is talking but his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he can’t hear him. He clicks on your name and feels every nerve in his body ignite at what the text message says.

I miss you. I’m coming home.

tagging the gc bc I love them @bricksatlandyswindow​ @butgilinsky​ @barzysthighs​ @babytkachuks​ @dmonchld​ @anxietyandtacos​ @sortagaysortahigh​ 

[sinner-as-saint]

‘yes daddy.’

Sambucky x Reader 

Run-through: The two soldiers make their way home to you after a long and tiring mission; knowing that only you can take their mind off things and help them wind down. The mission was lengthy and exhausting, leaving them both grumpy and frustrated. And they don’t plan on being gentle with you either… 

Themes: smut, threesome, fluff, sambucky, dirty talk, language, daddy kink

a/n: this is pure filth. I’m not sorry. 

“Stop squirming, kitten. Be good for daddy.” 

Sam’s smooth, deep voice whispered in your ear, making your core tremble in more ways than one. You could only whine in response, throwing your head back onto Sam’s shoulder as you felt the overwhelming sensation in between your legs. It was growing, more and more, taking over you. It had been for the past hour. But in the back of your head you knew you weren’t allowed to cum just yet. Bucky pushed the vibrator further into you, his lips parted and a playful look in his wild blue eyes as he watched you writhe under him. 

“Please daddy… please…” you whined. Desperate and your body damp with sweat. Your mind was a foggy mess. “I’m sorry…” you mumbled out an apology. 

Sam scoffed at your weak apology. “You’re doing so well babygirl,” Bucky murmured, “but you’re not allowed to cum, not after being such a bad little girl while Sam and I were away.” 

Behind you, at Bucky’s words, you felt Sam’s grip tightening on your wrists; keeping them secure in his grasp at your lower back, while his other hand reached around and fondled your breasts. You moaned as Bucky turned the vibrator up and placed it right on top of your entrance, making your legs shake as you tried to close them. But he was kneeling right in between them, with his metal arm pressing your hips down on the bed, so there was not much you could do. You had nowhere to escape, you absolutely had to endure the sweet torture. You earned it. 

Sam and Bucky were gone for 2 weeks, on a long mission. And they left one rule for you to follow - you were not to touch yourself, or pleasure yourself sexually in any way because that was “their job.” Did you abide by it? Absolutely not. And you were also careless enough to leave all your toys out in the open - which was the first thing they saw once they stepped into your shared bedroom. So now you were being ‘punished’. 

You whined in pleasure, but Bucky quickly shut you up by pushing his metal fingers past your lips. “Aww, what is it baby? Is it too hard to hold back?” he cooed and pulled his fingers out and then pushed them back in again. “Well then you should’ve been a good girl when you were asked to.” Bucky taunted, smirking and wiggling the wand a little and making you whine louder. And to add on to your sweet torture, Sam trailed his hand down from your chest to your core and gently circled your clit with his two fingers. 

“You made us a promise, kitten. Then you went on and broke it.” Sam growled in your ear as he unexpectedly smacked you right on your clit, making you bite your lip and moan loudly. “When did you start acting like such a brat, huh?” his fingers circled your clit lazily as he spoke, “Maybe we’ve been too easy on you, isn’t it?” he nibbled on the shell of your ear, “Spoil you too much, don’t we kitten?” 

His voice made your damp body tremble. You were aching, desperate, your body burning with desire and need. But the soldiers were hell bent on teaching you a lesson. Your thighs trembled as Bucky messed with you. He changed the setting on the wand, making it more intense while Sam teased your clit, and tilted your head back and kissed you like he owned you; pushing his tongue past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth. You whimpered in pleasure. 

Bucky pulled his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your jaw rather harshly, making you open your eyes and face him. “Sam’s right. We’ve been spoiling you too much.” you shivered at the tone of his voice. Deep. Angry. Hot. He held your stare as he spoke, making you whine just from the intensity of his eyes. “From now on, you’re gonna have to beg nicely for everything.” He scoffed. 

Bucky moved the vibrator around while Sam kissed down your neck. You felt the pressure forming in between your legs, again and you desperately tried to chase your orgasm. Bucky noticed and lifted the vibrator off you, denying you your release yet again. You cried out, hazy with lust, “Please daddy, I’ll be a good girl I promise…” 

You earned yourself a smack on your thighs from Sam. “Quiet.” he growled in your ear, “You’re gonna take everything that we give you, you hear me?” Sam’s voice reverberated and it gave you chills even despite being trapped in between their body heat. “Answer me, kitten.” he said, sternly. 

You gasped at the tone he used. “Yes, daddy.” 

“Good girl.” 

 You were a mess trapped in between them. Your moans muffled either by one of their mouths on yours, or their fingers pushed inside your mouth trying to keep you quiet. Tears of frustration streamed down your face as they kept teasing you; keeping you right on the edge but not letting you come undone. You were a tear-stained mess in no time. They had been teasing you relentlessly for God knows how long now. With toys, their mouths, their hands, Sam even made you ride his thigh at some point all while Bucky teased you with his cold, metal fingers until you were a whimpering mess, unable to speak coherently. 

“Did you learn your lesson baby? Do you promise to be a good girl now and listen to daddy?” Bucky asked as Sam wiggled the wand around. They had switched positions at some point and they could both tell that you had reached your limit and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You nodded quickly, forcing your eyes open to look into Sam’s mesmerising dark brown eyes. “Say it kitten, say you’re sorry.” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you briefly. You moaned into the kiss and whimpered as he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry daddy,” you cried. “I’ll be good I promise, just please-,” you cut yourself off by moaning loudly when Sam tossed the toy aside and replaced it with his warm mouth. 

His tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease. He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than earlier. You felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. “I missed tasting your sweet little cunt so much…” he looked up at you and found you with your eyes shut, head thrown back in pleasure. “Look at me.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble. 

You looked down in between your legs and found Sam settle in between them. His strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he ate you out like a mad man, unrestrained and focused on making you lose your mind. Meanwhile, Bucky turned your head to the side, kissing you without a care in the world while he pinched and toyed with your nipples. You moaned into his mouth and you could feel him smirk into the kiss. 

“Too much, is it babygirl?” he mumbled against your lips as he felt your body tremble against him. Sam was relentless and you weren’t going to last too long and they both knew that. You nodded at Bucky with a pleading look on your face, feeling the pressure build nicely in between your hips again. 

“Please…” you cried out, whimpering and begging them to take you already. You could no longer deal with this teasing. Sam smirked as he kissed along your inner thighs before getting back to where you needed him the most. Your arousal coated the lower half of his face, but he didn’t mind it one bit. You whined and whimpered; with your legs wrapped around his head. 

“Come for me kitten, come for daddy.” Sam whispered against your wet folds, his warm breath making you shiver. His piercing eyes watched you cautiously as you let go and came all over his tongue, moaning and whimpering as you did. 

Bucky growled as he watched you come undone, he could no longer take it either. He barely gave you enough time to recover as he positioned you in between him and Sam again. 

You found yourself on all fours in the middle of the bed, with Sam in front of you; his cock in your mouth while Bucky pushed into you from behind. Sam groaned as you took him into your mouth as much as you could; he held your face gently and watched you intently with parted lips how you took him so perfectly. He grunted and hissed in pleasure as struggled just a little to fit him into your mouth.

Bucky was just as focused; your soaking cunt wrapped around his cock perfectly, your walls inviting him in just how he liked it. “Fuck… babygirl you feel so tight around daddy’s big cock.” Bucky mumbled as he pulled out and pushed all the way back into you. His actions caused your mouth to move along Sam’s thick cock and that elicited a loud groan out of him. 

You looked up at Sam, and your walls clenched around Bucky as the noises left his mouth. Sam held your face gently and slowly pushed himself deeper in and out of your mouth. You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in until he hit the back of your throat. You felt all of him; his smooth skin, his raw taste, and you repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks when needed. Bucky pounded into you from behind. He groaned and grunted as he filled you up entirely; your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he rammed his cock in and out of you incessantly; groaning and grunting as your warmth wrapped around him perfectly.

Sam came first, coming undone all over your tongue and watching you swallow all of him, while Bucky sped up into you, chasing his orgasm as well. He moaned when he felt your walls clench around him, squeezing and milking him as he went. You felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so desperate and needy. Sam finally pulled his cock from your mouth and tugged on your hair so you looked up at him. Your whole body shook as Bucky pounded relentlessly into you from behind. Sam smirked as he looked into your eyes.

“You secretly love being treated like this, don’t you kitten?” Sam whispered, and half of his words didn’t even make sense because Bucky was fucking your brains out at the same time. Sam smirked. You couldn’t hold back anymore, Bucky was stretching you out just how you liked it and it was hard to hold back anymore. “Beg for it, come on.” Sam let go of your face and you whimpered at the loss of his warm touch. 

So you begged. Wantonly, without any shame. 

“Daddy, may I please come?” you whined, closing your eyes and leaning forward, pressing your forehead to Sam’s abdomen. 

Bucky grunted, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, and he groaned, “Cum for me babygirl,” he whispered under his breath before coming undone just seconds later; buried deep within you; growling and mumbling profanities as he came. 

You came right after, moaning and trembling between them both. Sam caressed your face and wiped your tears away as you allowed your orgasm to wash over you. Your body trembled. You could still feel Sam’s in your mouth while Bucky pulled out and watched his cum trickle out of you and onto the sheets. You were panting and whimpering, and luckily they held you up otherwise you would have collapsed on the bed completely. 

Sam grabbed you by the shoulders and held your trembling body against his warm one. “You okay, kitten?” he whispered in your ear as you hid your face into the crook of his neck. Your heart was still racing, and your body was throbbing but you nodded. 

“Thank you daddy.” you added. Sam wrapped his strong arms around you but given by the way he chuckled, you could tell they weren’t entirely done with you yet. 

And that’s how you found yourself trapped in between the two soldiers you loved so much. Sam was behind you while Bucky was in front. Bucky gripped your hips and settled your body right in between him and Sam. You could tell by the look in their eyes that they couldn’t wait to fuck you at the same time.

You whimpered, your core throbbing and sore but ready for them at the same time. Your heart raced like crazy. You were worn out, but desperate still. Sam went first; he lathered his cock with the lube and toyed with your hole for a bit before he pushed his thick cock slowly into you. The lube made it easier for him to fill you up and he had you whimpering and moaning in no time. Your moans were shameless and obscene.

You whimpered and you leaned forward and rested your forehead on Bucky’s shoulder to steady yourself, but before you could catch your breath and adjust to Sam’s size, Bucky guided his cock over to your folds and pushed himself into you as well. 

All three of you moaned at the same time once they were both seated into you. You felt your holes stretching with both of their cocks inside of you and you felt so full that you could barely talk. You gripped Bucky’s arm tightly and leaned your head back onto Sam’s shoulder. Trying to accommodate both of them inside you was always exciting and your ability to think straight was long gone.

Sam placed a gentle kiss on your temple and you felt his hands grip your waist as he moved in and out of you gently. Bucky kissed along your jaw and down your neck as he did the same. They moved in and out of you with a comfortable pace which created a momentum; granting all of you the pleasure you desperately needed. Especially you, given they had teased you for hours probably. 

Your walls clenched equally tight around each of them and the wet sounds your bodies made were sinful enough to make you almost lose your mind. Sam bit down on your shoulder, whispering how good you felt while his arm tightened around you and he firmly placed his palm against your abdomen, right above your core. He could feel each one of Bucky’s thrust and the bulge which formed each time Bucky’s thick cock filled you up. So did you; moaning at how full you felt.

“This will teach you better than to break our rules, babygirl.” 

All you could focus on was their voices, their moans and their body heat as it wrapped around you. They knew just what you needed, and they gave you just that without any shame. They both moved perfectly against you, your heart beats and breaths in sync. You felt the pressure growing in between your legs again, and you could no longer hold it back anymore. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” 

You were sensitive and needy. You felt your walls clenching around both of them, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you came violently around both of them. You cried out; with actual tears streaming down your face and you whimpered as they kept going even after you came; pounding into you from both sides and chasing their own release. The sounds of the moans and grunts coming from them made your body tingle, and you throbbed still.

Bucky came right after you with a loud moan, which you could swear was the hottest thing you ever heard. Sam came after both of you, panting as he carefully slipped out of you; letting his cum drip down your skin again. You whimpered when Bucky pulled out of you, you felt his cum oozing out of your folds and dripping down your thighs.

Your body felt heavy and limp, so you just leaned back against Sam while Bucky kissed your lips roughly. You were sure you would be sore even tomorrow. Sam wrapped his arms tightly around you and kissed your temple. “You did so well, baby.” he whispered against your skin and kissed the side of your face.

 --

You woke up the next morning still trapped in between the two men, under the covers this time. Limbs tangled with one another but that was okay. You smiled as you felt their hands on you. Both of their arms wrapped around you and holding you close to them. You opened your eyes and found that they were both still asleep. So you tried to wiggle your way out of their grip and out of bed so you could go downstairs and make them a big breakfast since it was their first day back. 

But as soon as you moved a bit, you felt both of their arms tighten around you. You groaned in defeat, given you wouldn’t be able to surprise them with breakfast anymore. 

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?” Sam mumbled and pulled you back to where you were initially, close against his warm chest. 

“Running away?” Bucky whispered and leaned in to kiss your forehead, scooting closer to you and Sam. 

“Nooo,” you protested, bringing both of their hands up to your lips so you could kiss their knuckles. “I was gonna make breakfast.” 

Bucky smiled sleepily at you. “There’s no need, baby. We can go out for breakfast later. Come here,” he pulled you into him, Sam’s arm still around you. “I missed you so much. We both did.” he confessed. 

“I missed you too. Both of you.” you mumbled against his neck. “And I’m sorry I broke our rule.” you pouted, but then giggled when you felt Sam gently tickling your sides. 

“It’s okay baby, you’re forgiven.” Sam whispered and kissed the back of your neck. “As always, you little brat.” 

“At least try to hide it when you’re being a little rebel next time, okay?” Bucky taunted, and he earned himself a dirty look and a pout from you. He laughed when he saw it. Sam chuckled as well. 

“You guys are mean.” you tried to get up again but they pulled you back into bed and tickled the hell out of you until you were crying laughing and gasping for air. 

Sure, they were a handful. But you were glad they were home, finally.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

I want to know what Andy or Ransom’s O face looks like. Is there lip biting, moaning your name etc involved.

Andys O face, oh a THING OF BEAUTY! 

Andy would be dragging out your orgasm first when he gets you there, and you know he's going to get you there, he hovers over you, dragging his cock through your channel squeezing him so perfectly his whole body tenses trying to hold himself back. 

“Fuck your so beautiful Honey like this. Squeezing me so tight.” He would grunt out while cupping your face in his hands to be able to watch you in so much bliss, all for him. He would start to speed up when he heard your mewls, clutching at his biceps as he started huffing and groaning, turning sloppy, but in all the best ways. His body would grind his pelvis into your clit to make you buck under him with a plea for something. 

You don't even know, him, you just want all of him. And that makes him swell from his chest in love for you, this desperate version. He grunts as he haunches over you, roaring your name out of his own desperation as he pumps heavy shots of cum to spurt into your channel and his muscles tense, his neck straining in the effort, his eyes ever breaking contact till he sags into you. His forehead leaning on yours and his lips catch yours for a passioned kiss, pouring the last of his energy into it, hot air, and a stroke of the tongue, he pulls away with a deep breath, catching his composure. “I love you, so much baby.” 

Andys look, in the end, bliss. Floating in a place that only you are able to bring him, complete calm and satisfaction at the moment feeling you in his arms. Physically, he would have a slight flush in his cheeks, his lashes resting perfectly against his cheeks. Lips would be wet, extra pink, and swollen from where he's worshipped your body so thoroughly, remains of you still glisten in his beard. His hair would be slightly out of place where you had gripped him tightly by his thick roots. And satisfied, everything in his body hummed satisfaction. 

Ransom whew, I see him with the most ultimate satisfaction at that moment, smug as he brought you to this state. 

Somehow you were still standing, his heavy forearm circled right around your chest, one hand possessively grasping a breast to hold you back into his chest while his hips slammed into your backside, your back arched so far that you swore it might snap. 

“Eyes on that fucking mirror Kitten.” He growled in your ear, sucking his mark into your neck purposely where you couldn't even begin to hide it. Fuck you were going to have to put a bandaid there cause the redness was going to turn a lovely shade of purple later and makeup wouldn't cover that up. The fucking bastard. 

Your hands were clasped against his arm circled over you, crying out with each thrust, each time he claimed your body in sloppy sounds wet sounds, and perfect aim hitting your g-spot. 

“Ran-Ransom, Fuck I need to.” You managed to stutter out, really digging your nails into his arm, arching to tiptoes almost to escape but his sheer size didn't even allow that, leaving you shuddering in his hold, tightening around him, fluttering as more arousal escaped with his retreat, gushing over your inner thighs, over his cock and balls. 

“My little Kitten can't handle anymore?” He hissed, his face smug as his blue eyes burned from behind you, twisting a nipple between his fingers that had you withering in his hold, biting your lip with a vicious nod of your head. 

“Please Ransom.” 

“Come on then, drench me more than you have.” Perfectly pink lips tugged on your earlobe, and you teetered close. His next heavy thrust had you seeing stars, cumming around him with an absolute break of your body. Muscles strained in your high, and lights sparked your vision, clouding your sanity to experience nothing else around you but Ransom. 

Ransom who let his own restraints go, slamming you forward into the mirror you two had been using to watch yourself fuck. The mirror was cold against your heated body, Ransom a fire burning you alive as he split you apart, 

Your vision started to clear and when you managed to lift your head away from the mirror, you could see the ultimate look of possessive satisfaction from him. It lined his face in dominating way, cool fire burning in his cerulean eyes as they stared back at you in the mirror. “I love how much of a mess you become for my cock.” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, till they found your neck, kissing gentler this time, but still that same claim to your body as before. 

Ending, Ransom would have his hair flopping forward on his forehead from where his actions turned feral with you, losing his composed look. The tips of his ears, tops of his cheeks, and all along his neck would be heated red from excitement heating him. His lips curled in a satisfied smug way, even dragging the tip of his teeth across that bottom lip recalling how you screamed his name. But the most expressive is his eyes, they are snapping heatedly in a possessive manner when they snap open, always pulling you into his gaze because what is his is his, and he holds utmost command over you. 

[littleoldrachel]

"well, it's the thought that counts"

for the wonderful @rachfielden-xo who literally sent this in a month ago (sorrrrry and thank you!!) and asked for well, it's the thought that counts with scott and alan from this prompt list.

this legit turned into scott teaching alan to make pancakes and i'm not even mad about it. the recipe the boys are using is [here].

[if you wanna prompt me, hmu!]

*~*~*~*~*

There are lots of things Alan doesn’t understand.

Black holes. Why his momma isn’t coming back ever again. The reason a Mars sunset streaks blue. Why Virgil has become some soulless cavity and John won’t say a word. How, despite year after year of technological advances, there’s still no evidence of alien lifeforms out there.

Why Scott never has time for him anymore.

It’s been days since Scott even said more than a few words to Alan, weeks since he last crushed Scott at videogames - he hasn’t even taken him to the park since -

Well.

And it’s not that he doesn’t love spending time with his other brothers; Gordon annoys the heck out of him on a daily basis but makes him laugh till it hurts far more. John is the one who gets him, who refuses to dumb down scientific explanations, who shares his passion for all things space. And Virgil - Virgil Before, that is - is the only person who knows how to hug him just right, who listens no matter how banal Alan’s worries are.

He loves them so much his heart might explode apart like a zombie’s head meeting his videogame character’s bazooka - except Alan’s not ever leaving them, not ever, not now he knows what that does to them all.

It’s just that Scott is fast turning into Dad, notable only by his absence.

And Alan doesn’t need another one of those.

More than that though, he can see the way his brother is running himself ragged trying to be mother and father and everything in between, and despite Virgil’s interventions and John’s best efforts, it’s not getting any better.

Which is where Alan comes in.

Alan is going to save his brother because he’s no baby, despite what everyone thinks.

What he lands on is simple but effective: he’s going to make Scott his favourite breakfast and draw him a card to say thank you, because he wants Scott to know Alan sees everything he’s doing to keep them afloat.

The card is straightforward enough - he’s no Virgil, but he’s pretty sure it’s clearly a rocket that he’s drawn. His tongue pokes out as he colours in as carefully as he can, only going over the lines a few times. He draws himself and Scott in the window of the rocket, grinning wildly (perhaps a little manically if he’s being honest) and adds Mars to the background.

Inside, in wobbly, looping script he prints:

Deer Scotty

Thanks for bing the best. I love you.

Love

Alan

Mission: Amazing Card - completed.

Now he just needs to make the pancakes.

Right then. First step is the ingredients.

In theory, this should be straightforward enough. Alan has seen Scott do this numerous times, had half-listened when Virgil taught John, and has eaten more of these pancakes than he can begin to count (but never enough!).

Alan pushes a chair against the counter, uses it to hoist himself onto the surface, and scrambles to the cupboard.

He knows that there’s a mountain of flour involved, because the little puffs of white powder always fluff through the sieve and make him sneeze. What he didn’t anticipate was that there would be different types of flour, in neat colour coded packages. He picks red, because it’s his favourite colour, and dumps as much of it as he can through the sieve, poking at it with his fingers to push it through.

It doesn’t look as neat as when Scott does it, and the entire surface is already dusted with flour, but most of it is in the bowl, so he’s doing okay.

He goes for brute strength with the eggs, smashing them into the side of the bowl. Little pieces of shell slide into the mixture with the yolk, but it’s so slippery he can’t get them out. Fingers coated in sloppy flour, he retreats. Maybe Scott won’t mind the crunchiness.

The milk carton is far heavier than Alan anticipated, and he loses his grip on the condensation-slick handle, watching in slo-mo horror as a glug of milk hits the side of the bowl, ricochets off it -

And splat!

It lands straight on top of Alan’s card, and Alan -

He’s not going to cry, he’s not -

His mom always said he shouldn’t cry over spilt milk, except this time it’s ruined everything.

Milk drips off the counter and Alan clenches his fists, willing the baby inside him to shut up. Eventually, the upset reassembles itself into a grumpiness that has him whisking furiously. The mixture slops all over the place, decorating the floor, countertop and his too-big apron with splatters of batter. It’s a lot runnier than Scott’s usually is, but by now Alan Does Not Care, he just wants to get this done and hug Scotty.

He’s just standing in front of the oven, wondering which dial is for which of the flame things, when the kitchen door opens.

Sixteen-year-old Scott, whose eyes have circles far deeper and greyer than they have any right to be, is standing there, and Alan becomes Very Aware all of a sudden of what the kitchen must look like through Scott’s eyes:

Flour absolutely everywhere (he can feel on his eyelashes and tickling his nose), little pools of batter all over the floor, Alan with his hand on the stove to work out how to make the fire come out -

“What the hell.”

Scott takes a deep breath, presses the heel of his hand to his eyes and says, “what are you doing, Alan?”

Alan forces himself to stand up tall like Dad always says. “Making you breakfast.”

There’s a pause, and Scott surveys the disaster zone once more. “I can see that,” he says finally, voice a little faint.

Alan swallows because this isn’t at all like he wanted it to go, but he brandishes the bowl of batter and does his best to peel the card from the surface. “For you!”

Scott stares, but takes the bowl. “Is this.... pancake mix?”

Alan nods eagerly, “your favourite! And here.”

The cursed milk smudged his amazing drawing, but it’s still sort of a rocket. Scott carefully prises open the card, and his whole body softens as he reads the message inside. “Allie,” he manages, “Allie, this is so -”

He presses a fist to his mouth and Alan watches in horror as his Neptune eyes shine overly-bright. This was supposed to be a nice thing, but he got it all wrong -

“I’m sorry,” Alan cries, flinging himself at Scott in a hug. “Don’t cry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make such a mess -”

“Allie, no -” Scott’s voice is firmer now, but Alan can’t bear to look at him falling apart like Virgil and John and Dad, because Scott is Scott and he can’t fall apart. It will obliterate Alan’s heart like a grenade in a zombie hideout if he has to see Scott cry.

Scott crouches though, and Alan’s forced to make eye contact. He’s relieved to see that Scott’s face has lost its sadness.

“Thank you so much for all of this, Allie,” Scott says, so sincere and so strongly, it washes something warm and safe over Alan’s shoulders.

“But it’s t-t-terrible! The pancakes are all wrong and I don’t know how to cook them and the card got milked and - and -” Alan can hear the wail in his voice and he resents it; it knocks hard into the defiant figure inside him that insists I’m not a baby!

“It’s not terrible, Allie. It’s - it’s lovely.”

“You’re saying that to make me feel better.” He can’t help but pout.

“No, I mean it. I love it - all of it.”

“Even the mess?”

“Even the mess.”

“Why?”

“Because… Well, it’s the thought that counts, Allie.”

Alan wrinkles his nose and Scott grins, using his sleeve to wipe off some of the stray flour. “I mean it. The fact that you wanted to do something nice for me makes me really happy.”

Alan hmphs, but tucks himself into Scott’s side and Scott obliges, squeezing him tight in one of those cuddles Alan has missed so much.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, Allie, but I love you and I’m gonna do better, ‘kay?”

Alan stiffens and pulls away. “Wait no! That’s what this was for, Scotty.” He wants to stamp his foot in frustration so bad, but knows that’s Baby Behaviour and so he settles for a scowl. “I don’t want you trying to do more when you already do everything! I just miss you, I don’t need you to do anything better. I just need Scotty.”

Scott is blinking too fast for the second time in ten minutes. “Did Virg put you up to this?” he says a little hoarsely.

Alan frowns. “No. But if he thinks the same thing, shouldn’t you be listening?”

Scott’s eyes widen, and he ducks his head, covers his eyes again.

Alan goes back in for a hug, presses his cheek into Scott’s chest and listens to the steady thump-thump of his heart. He feels Scott take a deep breath and put his armour back up, and Alan’s heart makes a sad little clench.

“What do you say we make some pancakes together? Ones that are actually edible?” Scott clambers to his feet with a grin.

“Hey! They would be!” Alan protests, but then he looks back at the mixture, which is congealing in watery lumps and he fights a smile.

“But first,” Scott flattens the card and clips it to the fridge with a magnet, and Alan -

Alan’s heart skips.

It’s been a long time since any of them - even Virgil - have had anything hung on the fridge. But his little card - his silly, ruined card - is up there in pride of place and that means more to him than he knows what to do with.

Scott ruffles his hair, dislodging the flour that’s gathered itself there, and for once Alan doesn’t have the words to protest. Scott half-turns, catches Alan’s lost expression, and shoots him the gentlest of smiles.

“Ready to make the best pancakes in the world?”

As if he even needs to ask.

Scott easily sorts through the cupboard, drawing out the blue flour, a pot of baking powder, and some sugar. It’s all white.

“Why do they have to make all the important stuff the same colour?” Alan complains, and Scott laughs, loudly and easily. It’s a wonderful sound.

“Here’s something that’s a different colour,” Scott says, tossing eggs between his palms with an assured ease. “It’s egg time.”

He passes one to Alan, and Alan goes to smash it against the bowl, when -

“Wait!”

Alan pauses, mid-swing, and Scott plucks the egg from him.

“Gently, Allie. Like this.”

Scott repositions his hands so that his grip on the egg is looser, then gently moves his wrist to give one sharp tap against the side of the bowl. The egg breaks, golden yolk dripping out, but miraculously, no shell escapes.

“Reckon you can do the next one on your own?” Scott asks, and Alan nods at once. He looks to Scott to check he’s doing it right, and every time Scott is there to meet his gaze.

(As he always is, always will be).

Scott helps him to lift the milk carton, and between them, they pour it into a little well that Scott instructs him to dig in the mixture. Scott hands Alan a whisk with a solemnity that Alan recognises from Gordon’s pranks, and sure enough, no sooner than he’s taken it, Scott is brandishing a spatula and yelling “en garde!” and then it’s all out war.

“Loser has to whisk the mixture!” Scott says between parries, and Alan knows he’s being deliberately slow and clumsy but if that’s how he wants to play, then so be it. Alan blocks a few of Scott’s easy strikes, and feigns left, before darting right to jab him in the ribs.

“Victory!” he yells.

Scott crashes to his knees in mock agony. “You got me!”

Alan pushes the bowl towards him smugly. “Your punishment.”

“So merciful.”

“No talking! Only whisking!”

With Scott’s expert hands, the batter turns into a smooth, creamy mixture, and he guides Alan as the chocolate chips are poured in. “And now we fold.”

“Fold? Like paper?”

Scott grins, and Alan scowls. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Sorry kiddo. Like this.” Scott shows Alan a gentle scraping motion that turns the mixture towards the centre of the bowl.

“Are we there yet?” The chocolate chips are making Alan’s mouth water, and as messy and inaccurate as his recipe might have been, it was at least quicker.

“Nearly. Let me just heat the pan.”

Scott dashes the pan with a blob of butter, and smiles softly as it begins to sizzle and melt, before he turns sharply to Alan.

“Hey, Allie?”

“Mm?”

“Please don’t use the stove without me or Virg there, okay?”

A ladle of pancake batter goes into the pan, and Alan stares at it in anticipation.

“But it was an emergency.”

“And you could have asked Virg, even if you wanted to surprise me.”

Alan frowns, crosses his arms. “He wouldn’t have helped, he’s always in bed these days.” Scott swallows, the crease of concern back between his eyebrows and Alan’s heart sinks. “I didn’t mean that. He would help, really.”

“He’s just really sad, Allie. Give him some time.”

“We’re all really sad,” Alan says, in a smaller voice than he intends.

There’s a pause, and Scott says, equally small, “I know.”

Scott removes the pan, passes it to Alan, and gently adjusts his grip, until -

“One, two, three, flip!”

The pancake does a perfect somersault, landing uncooked side down in the pan, and Scott beams, even though his eyes look so sad.

Silence falls once more, and Alan finally looks up at Scott, surprised when he’s already watching him.

“I love you, Allie. So much.”

Alan blinks, but the words come easily - he’s not yet at Gordon’s age where such declarations are Deeply Embarrassing. “Love you, Scotty.”

“I know the last few months have been really rough,” Scott says slowly, as though he’s measuring each word out like ingredients. “But never forget that I love you and all of us love you. It’s okay to be sad, but you don’t need to deal with it on your own, okay?”

Alan nods, tucks himself into Scott’s side once more, because the contact feels more important than words right now. Heck, he doesn’t even know what he could say to that. It’s everything he knows technically, but hearing it said out loud? It hits different in a way that knocks all the words right out of his head.

On cue, the pancake has turned into a golden-brown puffed up beauty, and Scott grins widely.

“Bets on who’ll be the first to smell this and make their way down to join in?”

Alan laughs. “Definitely Gordon.”

“Nah, Virg has a weird sixth sense about pancakes.”

*~*~*~*~*

They’re both wrong as it turns out.

John slinks into the kitchen, followed shortly after by a bright-eyed Gordon (“that doesn’t count, Allie!” “Does too!” “Does not!”) and a dull-eyed Virgil.

Whilst Scott and Alan stack up the pancakes, Scott corrals the others into beginning the clean-up process. There’s some good-natured ribbing about the Disaster pancake mixture, which has started solidifying alarmingly quickly, and Virgil spots the card on the fridge, turning to Alan with the first genuine smile he’s seen from him in so long.

Everyone is ravenous by the time there are a sufficient amount of pancakes for them all, and then it’s every man for himself as they wrestle for sauces and squabble over the last pancakes.

It’s the first time they’ve all eaten a meal together in so long, and it’s the best gift he could have ever given Scott, even though he couldn’t have planned the highs and lows of this particular adventure. Virgil is actually laughing about something with Gordon, and John is inserting the occasional comment with a smile, and Scott -

Scott meets Alan’s eyes with a proud smile.

Alan’s heart feels like it’s actually glowing, a soft, golden light in his chest, because he did that - he and Scott.

They make a good team.

And they always will.

[on-maars]

Kaleidoscope

Another buddie fic cause I can’t get enough of these two dumb idiots.

Read it on AO3.

Eddie’s first thought is that he’s been buried alive. He moves his hands to the side but his knuckles hit the wood and that’s when he realizes he must be trapped in some kind of box. He tries to scream but the air around him is so thick and the sound of his voice is swallowed by the darkness surrounding him at all sides.

His heart beats hard against his chest, so hard Eddie feels like it will break through his rib-cage. His eyes shuttle back and forth, scanning his surroundings and trying to adjust to the dark. He kicks the wood again and again but the material doesn’t give way and his breathing becomes labored as sweat starts falling down his forehead.

He strikes the wood above his head and doesn’t stop until he can feel the material cracks under his fingers. Only then he uses his elbow and continues hitting until the whole thing breaks and he’s buried in sand.

Eddie closes his eyes and the next thing he knows he’s back in Afghanistan. He watches his friends die and he wants to reach forward, wants to get them out of harm’s way but that’s when the bullet hits him and pain radiates through his shoulder and he falls.

“ Firefighter is down! I repeat, firefighter is down!” He hears a voice shouting. Because he’s not in Afghanistan anymore. He’s in LA. In broad daylight.

And his lungs are filled with water.

Is he drowning?

“ Eddie! Eddie!”

It’s Buck’s voice, screaming his name over and over again, so loud it makes Eddie cry.

He tries to reach out to him but his hand slips and he loses him. The last thing Eddie sees is the bloodied face of his best-friend disappearing into the water.

Eddie wakes up with a start, gasping for air. His entire body is drenched in sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead and his heart pounding against his chest like a hammer. He runs his shaking hands through his hair and closes his eyes fiercely, trying to get rid of all these images invading his mind.

“You okay?” Bobby asks and Eddie jumps with surprise. His captain is leaning against the wall and watches him with a concerned expression plastered all over his face, his eyes shuttling back and forth as if performing an internal scan of Eddie’s mind.

“I’m fine.” He says, shakily. “Just another nightmare. But I’ll be alright, cap.”

It’s a lie. An easy lie. Eddie knows it. The kind of lies he has to tell to try and maintain a somehow strong image among the 118, the kind of lies he has to tell over and over again in the hope that, with time, he might believe it himself. Because truth be told, Eddie’s not so sure he can hold on much longer. Truth be told, he can slowly feel his shell crack, each nightmare spreading the fissures wider apart.

“Buck’s upstairs.” Bobby only answers. “If you need him.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie repeats without thinking. It became a reflex, something he says as easily as a tired ‘good morning’ in the early hours of the day.

“Who are you trying to convince, Eddie? Me or yourself?” Bobby asks, his eyebrows raised. “You know we only want to help. We only want to be there for you.”

“I’m f-”

“Yeah, we know.” Bobby says with a sigh. “You’re fine. If you’re not gonna be honest with me then at least be honest with him.” He adds and Eddie looks away, his fingers twitching uncontrollably.

“I… I can’t.” He says, biting his lower lip.

“He was with you that day, you know.” Bobby tells him. Eddie can notice a slight trace of blame in his voice. “What you both went through, it’s- no one’s expecting you to have it all together, Eddie. Especially not him.” He adds. “What are you so scared is going to happen if you start talking to him about it?”

“I’ll be- I'll be okay.” Eddie repeats, stubbornly. Because it’s the only thing he can bring himself to say. He darts his eyes towards his Captain for a few seconds and the expression of disappointment painted all over his face is enough to fill Eddie with guilt.

Bobby sighs and nods to himself, as if knowing there’s nothing he can say to encourage Eddie to finally open up. He places his right hand on the door handle, takes a small step forward but Eddie doesn’t let him the time to leave the room completely.

“He deserves better than to put up with all my shit, Bobby.” He says through gritted teeth, bending his fingers into a fist.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how he sees it, Eddie.” Bobby answers, taking a seat on the bunk next to him. His captain is watching him with so much attention it fills Eddie with unease, makes him want to run far, far away from this place.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks with a chuckle. “Well, too bad. I’m not letting him the chance to ruin his life for someone as messed up as me.” He adds, wiping his tears with the back of his hands.

“Because you don’t think he has issues of his own?” Bobby asks and Eddies shrugs his shoulders.

“Nothing to put up with.” Eddie clarifies, running his right hand through his sweaty hair once again.

“You only say that because you love him.” Bobby remarks and Eddie whirls his head around. “You don’t see his issues as something you have to put up with because you love him for who he is, no matter how much baggage he may be carrying with him.” He says. “Did you ever stop for one second to think that maybe he feels the same way about you?”

Eddie lowers his head down and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to answer to that, doesn’t know how to make sense of everything Bobby just said. He knows that, in all likelihood, his Captain might be right. Maybe that’s how Buck feels. Maybe he’s in for the long haul.

After all, every sign seems to point to that conclusion, whether it is the fact that Buck took care of Christopher without even being asked while he was fighting for his life in that hospital, or the three weeks he spent in their house helping him with his recovery, or even his break-up with Taylor strangely coinciding with his own separation with Ana, give or take a few days. The signs are here and they’re clear but something in Eddie still doubts. Something in him still hesitates.

That’s the moment Buck chooses to barge in the bunk room with a cheerful stride, smiling wildly.

That’s enough for Eddie’s lips to turn up at the edges. He can’t help it. Buck’s presence is like a ray of sunlight finally poking through the clouds after days of rain, it feels Eddie with so much love he’s afraid his heart might explode.

And Eddie’s aware of how that sounds, Hen and Chimney reminded him of how miserably cheesy he looks whenever his best-friend is around enough time to make sure of it, but Eddie doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He’s irrevocably in love with his best-friend and maybe fighting it and trying to pretend otherwise only makes it worse.

Buck’s smile only lasts a second though. His eyes quickly fall on his best-friend and his entire face darkens.

“Eds? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He asks and rushes towards him.

“He’s okay.” Eddie can hear Bobby says. “But I think he could use some Buck time.” He adds, while getting to his feet. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulders and crosses the room, closing the door behind him. And Eddie’s grateful for the privacy but really there’s nothing more he wants but to follow Bobby out of this room and leave Buck alone.

“Another one of your nightmares?” Buck asks carefully, not sure whether to finally cross the line that seemed to have been erected between them ever since he left his flat. Eddie only nods but stays silent, the words still stuck in his throat. “The shooting again?”

Eddie nods again, not trusting himself to speak, not trusting himself to tell the truth, make him understand the true extent of his nightmares.

Not just the shooting.

Not just the shooting, Buck. The well, too. Afghanistan. The tsunami. Losing Christopher. Losing you.

Always losing you.

A silence slowly settles in the room, one person too scared to cross that invisible barrier, the other too afraid to speak. That, until Buck’s fingers tentatively reach out and brush past Eddie’s hand.

And Eddie? Eddie wants nothing more than to lean in on the touch but he does the only thing he seems to know how to do instead: He runs away. He gets up from the bed as if he’s been electrocuted by Buck's touch but his best-friend's voice stops him dead in his tracks.

“I wish you knew how to talk to me.” He says. His voice is filled with concern, and sorrow.

“I- I know how to talk to you.” Eddie says, his voice weak, overwhelmed with so many different emotions he doesn’t even know how to make sense of any of them.

“Then how come you never do, Eds?” Buck asks, his voice soft.

Eddie’s hands start shaking again. In fact, his whole body trembles but still, he says nothing.

“I don’t know what changed, Eddie.” His best-friend adds, but this time his tone is desperate, almost pleading. “I don’t know what to say to you anymore.”

“Maybe you don’t need to say anything.” Eddie finds himself saying, glancing at his best-friend who slowly looks up, his big blue eyes filled with worry staring back at him.

“Maybe.” His best-friend agrees. “But you run away even when I don’t.” He adds, smiling sadly at him.

Eddie’s throat is so tight he can barely breathe.

“I still have them too, you know.” Buck goes on and Eddie stays here, unable to move, let alone speak. “The nightmares.” He adds. “I still have them. And I don’t know what’s going on inside your head lately Diaz. I don’t know if it’s another one of your weird phases when you push everyone away because you feel like you’re strong enough to deal with everything on your own, or- or if it’s just a fucked up way for you to try and protect me from yourself but you don’t need to pretend with me, Eds.”

Eddie darts his eyes towards him and his best-friend is already looking at him dead in the eye, not blinking.

“Because I was there too, you know.” Buck adds. “I wasn’t the one who got shot but I was there, too.” He adds and something in his face just breaks. “So whatever you’re feeling, Eds, I- I get it. Trust me.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes fiercely, sighing deeply as he lets himself fall on his bunk next to Buck. For a moment, neither of them say anything. Eddie only intertwines their fingers together and lets his thumb draws small patterns on Buck's palm.

“I never wanted you to leave.” He still admits after a few seconds, ignoring the way his best-friend whirls his head around, his eyebrows frowned in confusion. “I wanted you to stay.” He adds. “The first night I spent on my own, the only thing I wanted to do was to call you and beg you to come back.”

“Why didn’t you?” Buck asks. And it’s a simple question. A simple question that should come with an easy answer but once again, the words get stuck in Eddie’s throat and he can’t speak. “Why didn’t you call me?” Buck repeats and Eddie chuckles, lowering his eyes to the ground.

It’s only a few seconds later that the words finally come.

“Because you would’ve come.” Eddie breathes out. “And I couldn’t let you do that.”

“Why?” His best-friend asks, his hand squeezing Eddie’s thigh. “You think I can’t deal with your nightmares?” He teases and Eddie lets out a shaky laugh, nudging him playfully.

“I know you can.” He says and Buck’s smile is so soft Eddie has to look away. “I just don’t want you to.” He adds.

“So what, you think I don’t have issues on my own?” Buck answers, forcing him to look up by lifting his chin with his forefinger.

“Of course you do.” Eddie whispers, his eyes are still down. “So why would you want to add mine to your pile?”

Buck sighs and cradles his chin with his hands, his thumbs brushing along his cheeks until Eddie’s eyes stare back at him. Only then, he says:

“Because I’m in love with you.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath and doesn’t look away even when Buck’s hand moves from his cheeks to the back of his neck to press a kiss to his forehead.

“And I… I guess there’s no way for me to talk you of it?” Eddie says and smiles when Buck only scoffs and taps him on the back of his head.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, Diaz.” He says. “This is non negotiable.” Buck’s eyes glance down at his lips and all it takes is a small nod from Eddie for Buck to capture his mouth in a gentle kiss.

“I might be in love with you too, Buckley.” Eddie says against his lips and manages to miss Buck’s nudge by moving his body a bit further to the left.

“Oh you might?’ Buck teases him and Eddie cradles his neck with his hand, bringing him closer to kiss him one more time.

“I am.” Eddie clarifies, his voice clear and steady. “I’m so in love with you I think it makes me look stupid, Evan.”

And when Buck wraps his arms around his back and buries his face in the crook of his neck, Eddie only smiles and rests his chin on his shoulder, thinking that as long as Evan Buckley is by his side, then he might be alright.  

[bump1nthen1ght]

Deep Blue Sea (Shark Merman x Reader) Chapter 3

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader/Shark Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Warnings: Slight mention of scars

Word Count: 3122 words

Summary: You and Cruz go for a morning swim in the reef

*Cross-posted to ao3*

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

That Friday, you stay up late, not drinking or binging a new Netflix special, but fruitlessly trying to decide between your athletic shorts are your more revealing swim bottoms. In a stroke of genius the only ever occurs to a person late at night, you wear the shorts over your swimsuit, topped off with a swim shirt.

With your water-proof swim bag, you sit at the tidepool and furtively lather your legs in sunscreen, waiting for Cruz.

Cruz swims up to the edge of the tidepool, pulling himself up and over the rocks before motioning you over.

“Okay, the cool stuff is just less than half of a klick away, I’ll be carrying you on my back the whole way, but some of it’s underwater. Would you-” Cruz stammers, “Would you mind if I took you down with me, to see it?”

You feel that involuntary smile creep up on you.

“I would love that.”

--------

It’s an odd sensation, sitting on Cruz’s back. You had worried yourself and all your gear would be too heavy, but Cruz barely seems to notice the extra weight. You're placed on the bottom of his torso, right before it connects into tail, but you can still feel it’s movements as he swims through the water. It feels almost like a python, muscles pulling and contracting, his arms reaching out occasionally for a large stroke to gain a temporary boost of speed. He’s not moving so fast that the wind or splashes of water hit your skin, but you can still feel the waves pushing over your feet and thighs. The view is breathtaking and you have a nice time looking at Cruz’s ripped back as well.

When you see some small rock outcroppings by the shore that Cruz stops and raises his head out of the water, adjusting you on his back like one would carry someone in a piggyback ride. The tips of his claws brush against your thighs. You are for sure blushing.

“We’re here. Do you remember the signals?”

You nod, responding with the Okay hand signal.

Apparently Cruz had self-taught himself scuba-diving signals, although he initially had thought they were limited to human “ocean-spies” trying to steal precious fish from the pod (“That’s what the older kids in my pod told me! Stop laughing!”). You yourself were a certified scuba diver, and had gone many times with your mother during college.

With a nod and a hand motion, you two submerge, a bloom of color all around you.

Your arms lang loosely around Cruz’s shoulders, chest pressed against his backside and legs hiked up around his hips to give him maximum mobility. A particular bright hydrocoral catches your eye amidst the rainbow, your heart leaping at the sight. You point urgently in it's direction, unintentionally clenching your legs in excitement. Cruz’s chest rumbles with a giggle, bubbles popping  through his mouth and gills. He shrugs his shoulder to bring your body closer to it.

The purple stretches across the rocks in circular bunches, with the occasional starfish interspersed in between. With a good look, you can see the tiny spines and tiny perforations on it’s surfaces. You tap Cruz’s shoulder and throw your thumb up.

Once out of water and properly breathing, you fingers tap eagerly against Cruz’s shoulder blades.

“Cool, right?”

“Yeah! I’ve never seen that kind of hydrocoral up close before. I’ve heard the California corals were beautiful but wow, those were gorgeous. And that patch was so big, it must be- I don’t even know how old! They grow extremely slow, you see, and because of excess-”” Your eyes glance over your shaky fingers, fidgeting and dancing across Cruz’s as the words fall out of your mouth. You forcibly still them. You gulp. “They don’t have those where I’m from. Sorry, I talk too much.” You force out a giggle.

You peel your fingertips away from Cruz, picking at your fingernails as your neck tints red. The heat makes you pull your arms into yourself and away from Cruz’s slick skin. Your thighs lock tight around his waist to stay on.

“Does it have a name?”

“They just call it California Purple Hydrocoral, since it’s so localized. Nothing too fancy, even though it’s so unique.” Typically, to calm yourself down, you fiddle with your clothing or whatever you have your hand on. With Cruz’s body so close by, your first compulsion is to trace shape alongside his back, map the muscle and bone’s topography. But just the idea of such intimacy sends your head in a swirl.”

“What makes them so unique? Just where they live?” Cruz playfully scoffs, “Because I’ve lived in one area for years and you don’t see me getting any trophies.” You chuckle, Cruz arching his neck to smirk at you.

“Well not not only are they super old, but most corals lose their color when they die and California Purple Hydrocorals don’t. The pigment is so deeply embedded in their skeleton, it remains even after they’re gone.” You float your eyes downwards towards the sea, in the direction where you get merely a glimpse of the bright purple mass. “It’s kind of their legacy, hence the name. That color is so intrinsic to what they are, not even death or time could take it from them.”

The water is cool and the sun is hot, beating down at the exposed skin on your neck and back while your feet mindlessly kick back and forth. Cruz’s muscles shift as he  turns his head farther back towards you. Your eyes are lost at sea, caught in the coral possibilities. There’s an absentminded smile on your face. It brings one to his.

“You’re really fun to talk to, ____.”

You’re snapped back into reality, eyes yanked out of the water and back to Cruz’s own. The inky black stares back, serious and focused.

“Wow, thank you. That’s very sweet of you to say Cruz.”

You avert your eyes in a polite gesture, rubbing the back of your neck. Cruz keeps staring. You can feel it tingling across your cheeks.

“I mean it. You’re really smart.”

“Oh, well, I just study a lot-”

“And-and you shouldn’t have to apologize when you get, y’know, into it.”

Cruz looks away, jaw clenched. “Not to anybody. Not to me, especially not to me, because you’re so-so….” He struggles with his words, chin shaking with unreleased energy, “You love it so much and that’s-you should be able to talk about it whenever. Because it makes you happy and any assholes out there shouldn’t ruin that for you, and I-” His chest heaves as he stutters, blue flushing his skin, “I-I like it, when you’re happy, I mean.” Cruz’s breaths are short and quick, his cerulean blush painting the back of his neck and crawling up to his ears. “Does that make sense?”

Words escape you at this moment, like Cruz sucked up all the energy in the moment. In a good way, he’s pulled the rug out from under you. Your eyes wander, brain turning over his words.

But Cruz can’t hear your inner thoughts, he can only feel your still muscles and the lull in the conversation.

“I-Shit, I didn’t mean-”

Your body jerks back to life as you lean over Cruz’s shoulder with a quick motion, eyes squinting in the middle distance. Cruz jerks.

“Cruz, submerge real quick!”

“What?”

You jerk your thumb down and shakily put on your goggles and snorkel with one hand. “Quick! It’s going to notice us!”

Cruz, befuddled, tightens his grip on your thighs and submerges. His head swivels back and forth, looking for what has gotten you so fussy. You extend both of your arms, pointing about 10 feet away, to the side of a bunch of coral. You then close your hands horizontally, interlocking your fingers into your signal.

Turtle!

Besides the small rock is a large Leatherback Turtle, blissfully unaware of the two creatures not too far from it, taking a leisurely swim. Your right arm wraps around Cruz’s clavicle as you lean over to get a better look, enchanted by her beautiful shell. Amidst the reef, she looks like a dolled up grandma, wrinkled and taking an afternoon continental in the garden.

Cruz ducks behind another rock as she swims closer, trying not to scare the turtle away. Your arm tightens around his shoulder, eyes never tearing from her.

You don’t notice, but Cruz feels himself falling deeper when he looks at the wonder in your gaze. Never before has he ever felt so jealous of a turtle.

She cruises along, Cruz dodging just out of her sight but close enough to give you a good view, all while giving you a spare breath whenever you gesture. As she swims back towards the open ocean, Cruz takes you both up and out of the water.

You whip off your goggles and snorkel, taking a long breathe in.

“That was- wow, that was incredible.”

“She was so pretty I didn’t think about eating her for like, forty percent of that time.”

You smack Cruz on the shoulder, but it’s light, half-joking, and an unflattering snort leaves you. Cruz shoots you a toothful smirk.

A light sea breeze rolls over you two, abating the hot sun, although just a bit. The water has thoroughly sunk into your swimsuit bottoms, pulling down with extra weight on your lower half, but you’ve never felt lighter.

In the tranquility, you rest your front on Cruz’s back, head now tucked into the nook of  his shoulder. The smell of salt and a slight tang of fish immediately washes your nostrils. Cruz’s shoulders and deltoids stiffen for a millisecond and slowly relax in another.

“Hey, Cruz?” You whisper, almost mumble into his skin.

“Y-yeah?”

“Thanks.”

----------

Your muscles slightly ache from the long swim this morning, and  boardwalk food is the perfect level of unhealthy to abade it for a bit.

As you walk back to the tidepool, arms cluttered with overpriced boardwalk food, Cruz’s eyes light up. You struggle to sit down easily, but manage to crouch down to Cruz’s level, motoning for him to grab the hotdog from the crook of your elbow.

He does, but Cruz’s eyes are locked on the two Cotton Candies which you hold in a tight grip; The water laps at your ankles and you don’t want the $7 you spent to go to waste.

“Trust me, this will be best after a full meal. Don’t want you getting nauseous.” Cruz lets out a facetious, over-dramatic sigh, but with one bite of a hot dog, his eyes alight once more. He devours the thing quickly, almost with one gulp, whipping his head around to the cotton candy. He wiggles his eyebrows and you sigh, motioning for him to come closer.

Cruz seats himself up on the rock next you, pupils sparkling as you hand him the cotton candy stick. He takes a large bite and is immediately overwhelmed by the sweetness and how quickly the sugar melts in his mouth.

“Is that supposed to happen?”

You chuckle, taking a much tinier bite out of your own cotton candy.

“Yes, it is. It dissolves in liquid, hence the ‘no water’ thing.” Cruz nods, spun sugar strings stuck to his lips as he attacks the cotton candy like a toddler. You smile, taking another bite.

The two of you continue to snack in silence. The end of Cruz’s tail flicks back and forth, stirring tiny ripples in the pool, extremely cute and reminiscent of an excited dog. After licking away the rest of your cotton candy, you lean over to the trash bag to drop off your paper stick. It’s then do you see them.

With your face up close to Cruz’s tail, you notice lines of discoloration, streaks of white, which pepper Cruz’s tail. Your eye catches one, then another, and another. By the time you pull back, you notice quite a few all near his pelvic fins, the tip of a larger one stretching to the bottom side of his tail.

Holy shit. How did I not notice those?

On the side of his tail, three marks stand out to you. Their pink, freshly healed, and rake along his skin for 2 inches.

“Uh, Cruz?”

“Yemf?” He asks, amidst another big bite of cotton candy.

“Did you accidentally cut yourself on some coral?”

About 20 pieces of coral, technically?

Cruz hesitates mid bite, sweet spun sugar and some sort of excuse on the tip of his tongue.

“What do you mean?” Cruz’s voice, same octave, is somehow quieter, devoid of emotion.

“It’s just, you have all these marks on your tail and…” You pull back and turn your back to him. Cruz averts his gaze, but the look he gives his tail is frustrated and simmering. “I got worried, that’s all.”

“They’re nothing, it’s nothing. You wouldn’t understand.” His intonation, like his furrowed brow, bristles with a hostile energy. You turn your whole body towards him, now a bit peeved yourself.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I said it’s not a big deal. I just did something stupid, went somewhere I shouldn’t have. That’s it.” Cruz still refuses to meet your gaze, knuckles clenched white around the cotton candy stick. Your eyes dart back to the littered scars.

Who did this to him? Was it those mermaids I saw?

“Does that happen often? Wouldn’t your pod-”

“Can we just fucking drop it? It doesn’t matter anyway.” Cruz bites back, almost a yell but not quite. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Well it matters to me. If you’re getting hurt then-”

“Then what? Why the fuck does it matter if I get a few scrapes now and again, why do you even care, huh?” Cruz’s glare burrows into your skin, you can feel your eyes go wide. Something deep, something heated and bitter, stirs in your gut.“You don’t have to do anything. Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean you have to pretend shit. I’m not so pathetic that you have to force yourself to-”

“Can you stop putting words in my mouth for one fucking minute!” This time, you actually do scream, which echoes off the water and the rocks. Cruz’s eyes widened, stopped in the middle of his tirade. Whatever burns inside boils over, released in hot breathes and the steam under your skin.

“Is it so hard to believe that I might care about you?” Your voice cracks with lost breath and the fast pounding of your heart. You pinch the bridge of your nose and with a deep inhale and exhale, you continue.

“My whole life, people have expected this one thing of me, and I spent so long doing everything I could to be the exact opposite. But I want-” You gesture your hands to yourself and Cruz, “-this. I want to get to know you, I want to hang out and eat expensive seafood and talk about bullshit! But I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.” You take a deep breath, Cruz not even taking the moment to jump in. “And I get that it’s hard, that we don’t know each other yet. But I want to trust you. I want you to trust me.”

A wave breaks against a rock, the noises drowned out  in the chasm of Cruz’s gaze and the beating of your heart. You can’t read the emotions on his face, what with a thousand thoughts flitting across it and the emotion welling in your eyes. The smell of brine seeps into your skin. You tuck your hands into your elbows, hoping that will stop their shaking.

“I just-”

“I-”

You both pause, caught in the middle of your thoughts. Cruz sputters.

“Sorry, I interrupted you, you can go.”

“No, no you can go.”

There’s another pause, each of you waiting for the other to go. Cruz finally steps up.

“I’m sorry for accusing you. I was making assumptions and-, and that’s not fair to you.” He expounds in one quick breathem sucking another in before continuing. “Since we met I’ve  been….going through some stuff and I think I wanted to let it out. But I shouldn’t-I shouldn’t have, not on you, not for shit that’s not even remotely your fault, damn it.”  Cruz laments, pressing his face into his hands. He takes a deep breath in, then out, and pulls his hands away. “I’m sorry.” He sighs again, scratching nervously behind his ears.

You let the sentence hang in the air a bit, trying to consolidate your mind and think hard about what to say. It’s far from easy, trying to find the words and express them properly. But it feels good. It feels right, cathartic almost.

“Thank you. And you don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t want to. We can take our time with all….this.” You untuck your hands and wave towards the air. Cruz laughs and this time, it actually settles the butterflies in your stomach. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you, whether to talk it out or even distract for a bit.”

Cruz hums in agreement, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles.

“Thanks, for that. And I-I’ll be here for you too, i-if you need it. I mean, you know where to find me.” You giggle, a bubble of exhaustion popping out of your mouth as Cruz joins you. You feel infinitely lighter. A wave brushes against your ankle, the ocean slowly eroding the thick stress in the air.

Cruz and you stand about 1 foot apart from each other, your leftovers discarded in the plastic bag by your side. Cruz fidgets with his fingers some more, eyes glancing back and forth between you and the rocks.

“Can I….Can I hold your hand?” Cruz murmurs.

You don’t respond, just nodding and lifting out your hand. Cruz slips his in.

His skin is damp, slightly cold, and he relishes in the heat of your palm. His fingers dwarf yours as they intertwine, his long claws just barely grazing your skin, careful not to actually cut the back of your hand. You brush your thumb over his knuckles and up his palm. His hands are soft, although his palms are dotted by small calluses. Cruz scoots closer to you, both of you looking out at the ocean. With a full belly and your muscles still quite sore, you rest your head on Cruz’s shoulder. You feel his muscles tense to jerk away, but they forcibly relax as he grips your palm tight. You rub his knuckles once more.

It may not be much, but it’s a start. And you think you quite like where it is heading.