#i am not lying when i say narrowing this list down is so hard

[cornsobsessions]

It's the end of 2022 so here are my favorite fics that I read this year! These weren't all written in 2022, in fact many of them were not, but I did read all of them this year. 

They cover a wide range of ratings and topics so please read any of the writers tags and content warnings before reading. a * means you need to be logged in to ao3 to read. 

Anything in Italics is my thoughts.

1. consider the hairpin turn (do not choose sides yet) by jjcofeesa (@30samwiches) zimbits, holsom, shardo, pimms | 50k You are not in a car with a beautiful boy. You are in a car next to a beautiful boy. And in a car behind your ex. And in a car ahead of your best friend. If you're Jack Zimmermann, current World Driver's Champion, that is. If you're Eric Bittle, you're too nervous about your rookie season to be thinking about what the boys in the other cars look like. (You tell yourself you're too nervous, anyway. You do think about it.) If you're on Twitter, well. They're all beautiful boys, and you wish you could be in the car with them. I don't know when this became a comfort fic for me but I have read it several times now and it has been wonderful every single time

2. action painting, abstract in the making by unconventionalturtle (@watermelonmountaindew) zimbits | 35k A stolen painting. A forged painting. A mysterious blonde. That's how it all begins.Jack Zimmermann thinks he’s set himself up for a nice, simple life when he quits playing hockey and gets started on his degree. But for the grad student, and night shift security guard, the summer of 2015 seems to have other plans. A fun story about the gang and you get to learn about some cool paintings along the way!

3. Defining Expectations by cricketnationrise (@cricketnationrise) nurseydex | 32k When Will joins the team at Samwell Dictionary, he doesn't know what to expect about anything other than his job description. With the help of good friends (and good pie) he might just have a shot at defining his expectations.

4. Got Your Back Means I'll Get You Out by cricketnationrise (@cricketnationrise) bitty and shitty | 17k Bitty Comes Out. Shitty Comes To Get Him. heartbreaking, wholesome, and full of platonic love

5. getting used to letting go by jennycaakes nurseydex, farmer | 37k Dex was supposed to have a fancy job in some city upon graduation, but his plans changed once his uncle died and left the family home in Maine to him. Without immediate obligations of their own, Nursey, Chowder and Farmer follow Dex up there to help him clear it out and clean it up. The way this feels so true to life is insane

6. I Don't Know What I Would Do by specklesandflowers jack and shitty | 57k The adventures of first-year Shitty Knight and Jack Zimmermann and the beauty that is their friendship I love Jack and Shitty’s friendship so much and this was so fun to read

7. The Gay Favour by FightMeImSmall nurseydex | 43k “I need a favour.” Will said intensely to the group of people assembled before him. “Okay so last year my brothers were ragging me about going to a liberal arts college and just generally being dicks. Sibling stuff, and like, that was fine. But then Christopher was like ‘found yourself a boyfriend yet?’ like as a joke and I’d had it up to here with their shit and replied, ‘so what if I have?’ So now my family think I’m gay and expect me to bring a boyfriend to this big ole reunion. If I don’t bring one they’re just going to get worse.” His friends all blinked at him, surprise evident in each of their faces. “I’ll do it.” Nursey said slowly The OCs are amazing and it was just so fun to read

8. Breathe With No Air by bluflamingo parswoops | 25k After Jack kisses Bitty on the ice, Kent's attacked one night by drunk, homophobic hockey fans. He's got no memory of the attack, but that doesn't make it any less traumatic. Fortunately, he's got his friends to get him through, in more ways than one. Pain but its also so beautiful

9. got the feeling you're the right thing after all by bisexualnursey nurseydex | 74k Two and a half years after he breaks up with Dex to go to grad school across the country, Nursey runs into him again when he visits New York for the holidays. What starts as them just rekindling their friendship quickly turns into a whole other thing: a 100% no-strings-attached friends with benefits arrangement while they’re in the same city. Which is totally chill because Nursey is definitely over Dex. He swears. He’s going back to California soon anyway.

10. (simply having) a WTF christmas time by loud_as_lions * whiskeytango, wtf | 17k All the Ford siblings are home for the holidays. Denice’s brothers are more than a little surprised when their sister brings not one, but two men home for Christmas. Logically, they assume she’s dating one of them. Which one, though? Just so much love can be felt and the OCs are wonderful

11. write our names in the wet concrete by MyCupOfTea zimbits | 20k “Oh my God, has it? Been ten years already?” The Olympics are never without their fair share of drama, scandal, and movie worthy storylines. However, the 2018 Winter Olympics remains burned into the sports world’s memory especially bright. And the sports world, despite their somewhat recent retirement, includes Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann. I love the way this is written

12. I've been waiting for a lifetime, for a moment just like this. by pandabob parswoops | 25k It's Jeff's last Christmas hospital visit before he retires so Kent is determined to make sure that he visits everyone, little does he know that this visit will change their lives forever.Heart wrenching and beautiful

13. Your heart hurts, mine does too by the_p_in_raspberry zimbits | 19k Shitty had always thought that because of Samwell’s LGBTQ+ friendly rumor, if one of his teammates weren’t straight they would come out eventually, only waiting because they weren’t ready yet, but never waiting because they were scared. He could see now how his logic was flawed. heartbreaking and heartwarming, all at the same time

14. From the Ground Up by Rianne kent/omc | 167k Kent has a pretty good life. It’s been a couple years since the Aces last won a cup, but he’s still at the height of his career. He has an apartment with a stunning view over Vegas, a best friend who’s always dragging him to basketball games, a cat to cuddle with, and more money than he could ever spend. Everything is fine. So it won’t be a problem at all if he strikes up a friendship with that guy he meets at the All-Star party. ---- Tomas enjoyed the years he spent in Minnesota, but he’s ready for a new life in a different city. It means he’ll be even further from his friends and family in Quebec, and he’s not sure he’s going to adapt well to the desert. But he’ll have his new job to distract him, and he’s never minded the challenge of developing a new circle of friends and acquaintances. He doesn’t expect Kent Parson to be part of that.

15. mon pays by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (@weneedtotalkaboutfic) zimbits, shardo, farmer, zimmerparents | 41k He didn't suggest they come to the cabin because he misses home, not really. At first, it was a senior thing between Shitty and him, one last weekend together before their final semester at Samwell, before graduation, before their lives inevitably change and diverge in ways Jack doesn't want to think about too much. Shitty suggested that Lardo and Bitty should tag along, and Jack agreed. Having them at the cabin… it was a good thought. He'd have them for his own, for a few days. But then, four became six, when Holster and Ransom heard about their plans, and cherry on top, the Frogs tagged along as well after that. So much for a quiet weekend between friends. snow filled shenanigans

16. four calling birds by wit (@parvuls) zimbits, shardo | 11k "You are now listening to Shits and Bits on Hub 98FM!" In which four radio hosts and one medical emergency result in Jack and Bitty co-hosting a show the night before Christmas Eve.

17. Friend Request by WrathoftheStag (@wrathofthestag) zimbits, shardo, nurseydex, fordtango | 26k When Eric Bittle was 18, he made out with 20-year-old hockey player, Jack Zimmermann, at an Olympic after-party. 25 years later, an unexpected friend request from Jack throws Eric for a loop. What’s a guy to do?

18. Time and Hearts by rickysims katyageorge, zimbits | 16k In 2002, a figure skater from Russia and a hockey player from Canada met at the Olympics. They fell in love. Jack and Bitty know that part. What they don’t know is what happened next and why Katya and George might not want to rekindle flame that went out 20 years ago.

19. Becoming Lardo by loud_as_lions * shardo | 9k Larissa was different with these boys than she was with anyone else. She had always thought that all the talk about finding yourself in college was bullshit, but these boys were making her wonder just how much of what she had previously believed might be changed by this place. An absolutely wonderful lardo character study

20. Like Our Own Private Island by imafriendlydalek * zimbits, shardo | 85kAfter Eric loses his spot on the SMH team and Lardo graduates, they're both left floundering with few options. So when the opportunity comes up to manage a cafe on a remote island in Quebec, it seems like as good a place as any to figure out their next steps in life. Even if it does mean he'll need to brush up on his French. The last thing Eric expects to find in a place like this, reachable only by ship in the warmer months or tiny little tin-can airplanes, is a town full of people who welcome them like family. Well, everyone except one: the enigmatic, irresistible Jacques Laurent.

21. Eric Bittle, NBC 10 by foryouandbits zimbits | 82k In 2009, Jack Zimmermann was drafted 2nd overall to the Providence Falconers. After a tumultuous first season in the minors, Jack returns to the NHL and is named captain within a year. Known to the media as the "hockey robot," no one seems to be able to break through the polite barrier that Jack has built — no one until Eric Bittle, newest intern at NBC 10. Bitty, interning as a requirement for his journalism degree at nearby Samwell University, forms an instant connection with Jack. Throughout the rest of the season, and the rest of Bitty's junior year at Samwell, the two grow closer while learning how to both trust each other and succeed in their respective careers. A fun alternate meeting AU

22. thinking outrageously (I write in cursive) by bumblegremlin (@bittysthesis) pimms, zimbits | 15k Jack was glad Bitty wanted a long engagement. It gave him time to address the very large, very pressing issue at hand. Eric Bittle was Jack Zimmermann’s fiancé. Kent Parson was Jack Zimmermann’s husband. A fun and funny fic in which Kent is a little shit and so is Jack

I read so many awesome fics this year and like last year making this list was very difficult! I can't wait to see what all you write in the future (or have written in the past) that I will get to read!

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 3

You’re in love with Toji, even after finding out he trains sex dolls at the Doll House. Taking a chance, you sell yourself to the Doll House so he can be your trainer, and you bet him that you can make him fall for you by the end of the training.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Toji’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

There will be one more part after this! I thought about just doing one big long part 3 but when I got into it, I realized the story flows better this way.

Smut. 18+. Short Fem Reader. Cock drunk reader. Age difference (Reader is 20, Toji is 38). Size difference kink. Rough sex. Use of aphrodisiacs. Divider by @benkeibear!

A few days later, you wake up to Toji’s voice speaking somewhat harshly. You spot him across the room, holding his phone to his ear. 

“This is short fucking notice!” he says, his eyes narrowed angrily. A pause, then, “Alright! Fuck it, I’ll pick him up myself! …Am I still on the list? You know what I mean, the list of people they’ll let pick him up at school! They don’t just let any rando show up and grab a kid! … Yeah you do that. Okay. Later.”

You raise up in bed and he looks over at you as he drops his phone onto the dresser. “Sorry about that. Looks like you’re gonna meet Megumi after all. My uncle has something to do today.”

“Really? That’s great!” You can’t suppress the excitement in your voice. You  get to see Toji in “dad mode”. The thought has you giddy. 

He gives you a flat stare. “You’re gonna be disappointed. That kid isn’t cute at all. He’s a sarcastic, rude little brat.”

Despite his words, you could sense a feeling of affection that Toji seemed to be trying to hide. “He sounds like his father,” you say teasingly. 

Toji frowns, feigning offense. “Excuse me? Do I have to put you in your place? I can probably borrow a belt from Nanami.”

You laugh, pulling the covers off yourself, showing him your nude body. “You don’t have a belt?”

“Not like his,” Toji says, crawling onto the bed. “His are all Italian leather. You’ve seen my wardrobe. It’s ninety percent sweatpants.”

“You look good in sweatpants,” you say as he climbs on top of you, kissing your face and neck. “What about picking up Megumi?” you ask. 

He doesn’t bother looking up, his face buried in your chest. “School lets out at three. We have a few hours to kill.”

All at once he rolls over onto his back, pulling you on top of him. The way he can just sling you around turns you on so much. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger. The fact that he could easily break you in half, but instead is surprisingly gentle with you, makes your skin tingle with delight. It’s like you’ve tamed a great beast. 

He’s lying flat on his back, and he puts his hands behind his head in a relaxed pose. “I gotta conserve my energy if I’m gonna be taking care of a kid today,” he says with a grin. “Why don’t you do all the work?”

You get to your knees, straddling him. You bend down to kiss his lips. “Such a lazy trainer,” you say, sliding your hands down his soft cotton T-shirt, finding the bottom hem and then pushing the fabric up to reveal his muscled abdomen. You pull the front of his sweatpants down far enough to free his cock, already hard and ready for you. 

As you scoot back down a bit, you lock eyes with Toji as you lean forward and run your tongue over his dick, letting your saliva drip all over it, getting it nice and wet. Then you straighten up, get in position, and sink down onto him. You don’t go all the way down at first, only halfway. Toji groans and gives you an exasperated look. 

“You teasing me now?” 

You smile as you move your hips in a circular motion. “I don’t know what you mean,” you say playfully. “Is my big strong trainer feeling frustrated? Does he want to be buried all the way inside my wet little pussy?”

His eyes are gleaming as he looks up at you, his hands finally moving from behind his head to grip your waist. It would be so easy for him to pull your body down, completely shoving himself into you. He doesn’t, but the thought that he could at any moment, his strong hands firm on your skin, thrills you. 

“I can hold back if you can,” he finally says, a smirk on his face. “But I know this needy little cunt is hungry for my cock. You’ll never be satisfied until I’m all the way in.”

He’s right of course, but you feel like teasing him a bit more. You roll your hips, making shallow thrusts, as you use one hand to play with your nipple, the other moving down to rub your clit. You moan, arching your back, giving Toji an incredible view. You’re trying to goad him into pulling you down, holding your hips in place while he fucks up into you so hard you cry. Glancing down at him through half-closed eyes, you can see the unbridled desire on his face. He wants to absolutely rail you, that much is obvious. 

But he’s holding back, waiting for you to be the one who gives in first. So it becomes a game to see whose desire wins out. You want to be stuffed full of him so badly, but you stay at the halfway point, moving slowly, touching yourself, watching the way his eyes rake over your form. 

“Toji… Toji!”

His name is delicious on your lips as your eyes close, your head tossed back. His cock is twitching inside you, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He’s close to giving in, but so are you. Several more minutes of this, and your legs are weak, shaky, aching to collapse. Just when you’ve decided you can’t wait any longer, Toji’s grip tightens and he yanks you down, plunging his entire length into you. 

For a moment, you see stars. His tip has crashed against your cervix, leaving you gasping. Toji grins beneath you as he thrusts up once, going so deep, tears spring to your eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “My little doll gettin more than she bargained for?”

You clench tightly around him, drawing a grunt from his mouth. Your hands are on his stomach, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “S-so deep…Toji!” 

He waits, not moving, just watching you. Then, you begin riding him, moving up and down, moaning each time you slide all the way back down, relishing the way he fills you so completely. His large hands glide up from your hips to grope your breasts as you bounce on his cock, crying out his name like a mantra. 

After some time passes, maybe a few minutes, maybe an eternity, you climax with a loud wail of ecstasy. You slam your body all the way down, taking him as deeply as possible, and clamp onto him. You look down at him with dazed eyes. “Please shoot your cum inside me,” you say in your sweetest voice. “My womb is thirsty.”

Toji rises up suddenly, now holding you firmly in his lap as he presses into you, burying his face in your neck. He kisses the warm flesh there first, then bites it, his teeth not breaking the skin but grazing across your neck hard enough to leave a mark. It surprises you, but the animalistic way he growls as he does it sends you to a higher plane of existence. Almost simultaneously, he cums directly into your deepest place, coating your insides. 

Your arms are wrapped tightly around him, as if you can meld into him if you hold him close enough. You’ve never loved him more. 

Later in the day, Toji leaves the house to go pick up Megumi at school. You’re so excited that you can’t sit still. You move from the kitchen to the dining hall to the common room, occasionally running into other trainers or dolls. And when Toji finally returns, there’s an adorable little boy with unruly black hair trailing behind him. 

You meet them in the welcome room. Toji is carrying a dark blue backpack in one hand, and with the other he lightly pulls the boy forward. “This is Megumi,” he says, then he gestures toward you. “Megumi, this is-“

“Your sex slave, I know,” the boy says. He wears a somewhat sour expression as he glares at Toji. 

Toji sighs. “See? I told you this little brat isn’t cute at all.”  As he says it, Toji lays one large hand on the boy’s head and ruffles his hair. Megumi jerks away and starts trying to smooth it back down, but it was already messy to start with, so he isn’t having much luck. You can’t help smiling at their interaction. 

Stepping forward, you grin down at Megumi. “I’m your dad’s friend. We’ve known each other for a long time now. We met at the convenience store.”

The boy looks at you suspiciously, as if he doesn’t entirely believe you. “But you’re still his sex slave,” he says matter-of-factly. 

Toji frowns. “Please stop saying that. You don’t even know what that means.”

A smug grin appears on Megumi’s cute face. “Yes I do! It means she has to do whatever you say! And you make her kiss you! And… do other stuff!”

Toji bends down to face him. “What other stuff?”

Megumi’s face reddens, and you feel certain that the boy only has an extremely vague idea of what that other stuff might be. Thank goodness. “W-well, I’m not gonna say it out loud! I’m a gentleman!”

You can’t suppress a laugh as you watch them. You step closer to Toji and put an arm around his waist. “I can promise you, Megumi, your dad and I are friends. He doesn’t make me do anything. I hope you and I can be friends too.”

Megumi stares at you, and you notice that he has Toji’s eyes. “Why bother? You’ll be gone by the next time I come here. Then there’ll be another girl here.”

You know he’s just a child, and what he’s saying is probably true, but those words cut you deeper than he could imagine. Still, you kept your friendly smile plastered on your face. 

Toji put a firm hand on Megumi’s shoulder and ushered him down the hall. “Don’t be rude, Megumi. You’re never gonna have any friends if this is how you talk to people.”

You heard Megumi’s voice responding, but they had already went into one of the unused rooms so you couldn’t make out what he said. 

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

Toji walks into the dining hall at dinner time and does a sweep over the room to make sure all the dolls are dressed and nothing obscene is going on. He told the other trainers that Megumi would be here, and they’re normally good at keeping things decent when the kid is around, but Toji still likes to make sure. 

Everyone appears to be on their best behavior. None of the dolls are naked or have tails sticking out of their asses, and Sukuna never brings his doll to the dining hall so Toji doesn’t have to worry about him. 

Once everything is clear, Toji goes to get Megumi from the room he’d left him in to play video games, as well as his doll, so they can all three eat together. He doesn’t really get why his doll wanted to meet and spend time with Megumi. In Toji’s experience, most women are turned off by the fact that he has a kid. A son is just walking baggage to them. And the few that do take an interest in Megumi quickly lose that interest after meeting him. Megumi has a prickly personality, probably because of the way he’s being raised. Toji is acutely aware that he’s to blame for that. Shuffling the kid around to different relatives can’t be good for him. 

But despite Megumi’s hurtful comments earlier, the doll still wants the three of them to have dinner together. So when they all walk in together, Toji groans when Megumi immediately runs over to Nanami’s table and sits with him. Nanami’s doll, sitting in her own seat instead of Nanami’s lap, seems amused as Megumi begins chatting with the other trainer. Toji usually doesn’t mind that Megumi speaks more to Nanami over dinner than he does to Toji in a year, but just this once, he hoped the boy would sit with him. If only for his doll’s sake. 

Toji gives her an apologetic look as she takes a seat, but she smiles and shrugs. “It’s no big deal. If he likes sitting with Nanami, let him.”

Toji fixes plates for himself and his doll, then watches as Nanami goes with Megumi to the food table and fixes the boy a plate. Toji often wonders why Nanami doesn’t just settle down and start a family. The man is a natural born father. Hell, sometimes he even thinks about asking if Nanami wants to adopt Megumi. The kid would be far better off that way. 

During dinner, Gojo walks over to chat with Megumi, who always pretends to find Gojo annoying. Toji can tell, though: Megumi likes Gojo a lot. Probably because the white haired trainer acts like a big dumb kid half the time. Geto and even Choso go over to briefly talk with Toji’s son. He’s never said anything to them about it, but Toji is extremely grateful that they treat Megumi so well. Sukuna, at the very least, doesn’t complain about Megumi’s presence. 

At some point Toji glances at his doll, who is watching Megumi with a warm expression on her face. He nudges her playfully with his elbow. “What are you so happy about?” 

She looks up at him. “I was just thinking he looks a lot like you. I can’t help picturing you as a kid. I bet you were cute.”

Toji snorts. “Me? Cute? Never. I was a mean little shit.”

She gives him a pouty look. “Whaaat? But you’re cute even now!”

“And you need to get your eyes checked,” he says with a laugh. 

His doll is quiet for a moment, then her face looks serious for once. “I wish I knew more about you,” she says, her eyes lowered to her plate, where she absently stirs some mashed potatoes with a fork. “I don’t want to pry too much, and I don’t want to stir up any painful memories… But if there are any good memories, any happy stories you can share… I’d love to hear about them sometime.”

He looks away from her, to his own plate as he stabs a piece of steak. “I’ll think about it,” he says as he begins chewing. 

Later that night, Toji’s doll steps out of the room to grab a snack in the kitchen. When several minutes pass without her returning, he goes looking for her. On the way to the kitchen, he stops outside the room Megumi is using. He hears voices, so he cracks the door open and silently looks inside. His doll is sitting on the edge of the bed beside Megumi, playing a game with him. Their backs are to the door, and they’re focused on the game on the screen in front of them, so they don’t notice Toji at the door. 

“Oh, come on!” his doll says. “That’s not fair!”

“It’s part of the game,” Megumi replies smugly, “of course it’s fair.”

“How are you so good at this?”

“I play this a lot. It’s the only game here.”

“Really? Your dad needs to get you some new games.”

Megumi snorts the same way Toji did at dinner. “I’ve told him that before. He doesn’t listen, or he doesn’t care.”

“I can bring a few of my old games here and leave them,” she says. 

Megumi’s head turns slightly toward her. “Okay. Thanks.”

There’s silence for a moment, then Megumi speaks again. “I feel sorry for you. Having to do whatever that guy says.”

It hasn’t escaped Toji’s notice that Megumi very rarely calls him dad. It’s always “that guy” or “old man”. 

The doll doesn’t seem fazed. “I told you already. Your dad and I are friends. And I’ll tell you a little secret: I’m in love with him.”

Megumi pauses the game and looks directly at her. “Are you joking? Why would you love him?”

Toji feels his heart beating faster for some reason. Megumi just straight up asked the question he’d been wondering about for weeks now. He supposes kids can get away with being so direct. 

“At first, I just thought he was handsome and cool,” she says, turning slightly to face Megumi. “He came into the store where I worked a lot. And he was fun to talk to. But then one night a bad man came into the store and tried to hurt me. Your dad saved my life. And when I was scared and didn’t know what to do, he stayed with me and made sure I was okay. He showed me so much kindness, even though he didn’t really know me that well.”

Megumi stares at her for a moment, then looks back toward the tv and unpauses the game. “I still think he’s a loser,” the boy mutters. 

Toji figures he deserves that. He hasn’t been much of a father to Megumi. 

The doll is looking at the tv as well, the controller gripped tightly in her small hands. “I don’t know enough about the relationship between you two to comment on it. It’s not my place to say you’re wrong or you’re right. But to me, your father is a great man.”

Megumi glances at her again, this time his face looking slightly uncertain. After the match is over, with Megumi winning again, the boy gets up and goes to turn the PlayStation off. He looks back at the doll and says, so quietly that Toji barely hears him, “I hope you’re still here next time.”

Toji steps out of sight before Megumi can spot him, continuing down the hall and leaving the door slightly cracked. In the kitchen, he grabs a bottle of water and a bag of chips, just to have something to bring back in case his doll beats him back to his room. 

As he leaves the kitchen, he bumps into the owner, who stops him in the hallway. 

“Oh, Fushiguro, I wanted to talk to you.”

“What’s up?” he asks, cracking open the water bottle. 

“It’s about your doll,” the owner says in a smooth voice. “We have a potential buyer. He’d like to meet with her this week.”

Toji’s entire body freezes in place, the water bottle inches from his open mouth. He blinks, then slowly lowers his hand. “Already?” he asks. 

The owner gives him a strange look. “It’s been four weeks. That’s when we usually start interviewing buyers. …Is everything alright?”

Toji nods. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I guess I just lost track of time.”

The owner is still looking at him as if he might be sick. “Take care of yourself,” she says before disappearing down the hall. 

Toji heads back to his room, suddenly feeling irritated. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv

[countrymusiclover]

8 - Life Used to be Simple

Part 9

A Wolf Among Dragons

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender @iamavailablesstuff @plaguecourier

My boots clicked against the heavy marble stone as I walked alongside the young dragon prince Aemond. Normally I felt some comfort around the young man but now it felt differently. I felt like someone was pushing down on my stomach making it hard to breathe now when I’m around him.

“My lady, we've been strolling for nearly an hour and you’ve not spoken a word. Must I assume you don’t wish to stroll with me.” He broke the uncomfortable silence that could be felt between us.

Tucking some hair behind my ear I kept my gaze trained forward as we kept moving. “I must confess I am rather tired, my prince.”

“We can stop and rest if you wish.” He commented back at me.

Shaking my head I wished he would understand that I wasn’t comfortable around him. Halting in my tracks I huffed, dropping my shoulders heavily. “I wish to retire to my chambers now.” I quickly spun on my heels in a hastened manner to leave yet he managed to snag my wrist in one of his hands keeping me from doing so.

“Lehna, wait.”

I attempt to yank my wrist from his grasp but he holds a slightly tight grip. “Aemond - I. Please let me go please.”

“You’re acting cold to me and I want to know why. Have I done something to offend you?” His voice was filled with care I could tell. I just couldn’t bring myself to be honest with him like I had always been.

No matter how much I despised being in a marriage with Daemon I had no real way out of it. We were wed under the eyes of the Gods and nothing would change that.

Rolling my eyes I tried a second time to break free from the princes hold on me. “You’ve done nothing to upset me, my prince. I am really just needing to retire for the day. Now please let me go - urgh!”

“Stop lying to me, Lehna.” Aemond snapped back at me.

Throwing my freehand up in the air I was surprised he was able to notice. “How do you know I’m lying? You know nothing about me.”

“You’ve never lied to me before so I must assume that you’re lying when your voice gets a higher pitch to it.” He enfired with the slight raise of his eyebrows. He was much more clever at figuring things out then his older brother Aegon, which was very obvious in the short conversations I’d shared with the second born prince.

“You don’t deserve to know anything about me - it’s improper since I have already been wed off.” I sharply growled back with bared teeth.

Aemond gently kept a hold on my wrist speaking quietly with a shrug of his shoulders. “I do know some things. Not enough to build a life together but I suppose I must find a way inside your head if you won’t let me in on your own accord.”

“I’m done having this conversation with you.” I shoved him as much as I could, finally managing to free myself from his grasp. Sadly I only took two short steps forward before I felt arms wrapping around my waist and I was spun around before my nose brushed against his. “Ahh! A - Aemond.”

“Tell me you feel nothing for me and I will walk away.” He takes a step closer, nearly closing the entire gap between our bodies. He tilted my chin up with his freehand making me meet his gaze. He leans forward barely keeping his lips from mine.

“I only have feelings for my lord husband.” I gulped trying to come up with the right words to say to him.

Aemond narrowed his one good eye on me. “You’re lying. I know you don’t care for him.”

“I have no feelings for my husband so I must have feelings for you. Pfft that’s the most ridiculous defense I’ve ever heard.”

The young prince runs his thumb over the side of my face, a gentle manner compared to the rough side he usually showed everyone else around the court. “If you had no feelings for me you would’ve already come out and said it. You’re denying the question so I know you are lying.”

“You can spat off whatever you want, Aemond. It still doesn’t mean shit if it’s not true!”

“So you're saying you feel absolutely nothing when I do this.”

Knitting my brows together I didn’t understand what he meant by that until he pressed his lips passionately down onto mine. “Aemond, what are you meaning by-“

He tugged my flesh against his chest making me yank my wrist from his grasp, leaving my arms to have the ability to move freely. Resting my hands on his chest our eyes met when he rested his forehead against mine before harshly kissing me again. Leaning up on my toes I yanked the collar of his tunic bringing him forward deepening the kiss.

In an instant it was like a million flames were spreading through my entire body. An unknown fire or desire whatever you wish to call it. Certainly it was never something I had felt when I was forced to kiss Daemon.

Experience in the act may impress some ladies. But I’d rather chase this unchecked feeling.

Slowly wrapping my arms around his neck I broke the kiss reconnecting our lips in a fiery kiss. Aemond moaned into the kiss till we finally broke it needing to catch our breath unfortunately. “Lehna-“

“Don’t speak - just.” I leaned back on my toes, raising my hands up to hold his face in my hands. Scanning my eyes over the eye patch and scar on his lost eye. I wished things were easier then this, cause I knew I had to push him away. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I just can’t.”

Aemond called my name yet didn’t try to reach out and physically stop me this time. This time he simply watched me and my gown skirts disappear from his view once I rounded one of the large pillars entering the castle. “Lehna!”

Zooming through the castle hallways of the Red Keep and I didn’t stop till I reached Helaena’s bedchamber. Kicking opened the door with my foot the doors slammed against the wall and I shrieked, covering my eyes at the sight before me. “Laena - seven hells!”

“How dare you come in unannounced before the future king!” Aegon sharply took a step backwards from his position about to kiss his sister Helaena until I walked in and interrupted them.

I gulped nervously remembering this was common for the dragon family even if it wasn’t common for my direwolf family. “I’m sorry, my prince.”

“Tell your friend to knock next time, Helaena.” Aegon stomped past me slamming the door behind him after he had exited.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt - uh whatever that was.” I nervously spoke, finally meeting my friend’s gaze.

Helaena clasped her hands together crossing the room to be nearby. “He came in and told me our mother was planning on making us marry when the time comes after our father has passed. I am actually grateful you interrupted us. I didn’t wish to kiss him.”

“Maybe the Targaryen tradition will get broken for you.” I touched her shoulder gently and she sent me a smile before I told her the reason I had come inside her room so abruptly. “Laena, I have a favor to ask of you as my only friend.”

She takes my hands in her own. “What is it?”

“I need you to take me on your dragon somewhere out of King's Landing. I need to see someone I’ve heard rumors about throughout the castle.”

“Dreamfyre. Who must you need to see so desperately?” She asked me in a softly toned voice.

Blinking through some tears by mentioning his name I did my best to not think about Daemon at that moment. “I need to see the girl that was originally supposed to marry Daemon until my father sent in my name to your father. I need you to take me to see Rhea Royce.”

“I’ve never been out of the keep, Lehna.” Helaena nervously muttered showing me she was slightly worried.

Intertwining my hands with hers I sent her a half smile hoping she believed that I needed her help with this. I needed to talk with someone who got out of marrying the man I was wed to. “Helaena, please help me. I need to go talk with her and you’re the only person I trust to ask this favor of.”

Finally to my relief the princess nodded her head yes in agreement.

Hopefully she had some advice to give me.

I needed advice on whether or not I should ignore my feelings for the young prince or deny what I was feeling for the rest of my life.

[august-anon]

11. "How can someone not be ticklish??" with Wyll 🥺🥺🥺??

find the list of warmup prompts and which fandoms i am taking here!

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wyll my darling beloved boy!!!!!!!! kdjfhjkdfh because i get so excited about wyll (and also this specific prompt plays into one of my Favorite tropes lol) this ended up being WAY more than a little ficlet or drabble but its Fine it just means more wyll content lol

(also, very funny, but by the time i had this 90% completed i got another ask with the same prompt also with wyll but with a specific companion so i did not combine the prompts lol)

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Playful Exploration

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Ship(s): Tav/Wyll

Characters (lee/ler): Ler!Wyll/Lee!Tav

Word Count: 997 words

Summary: Wyll refuses to believe that Tav isn't ticklish. Tav allows him the chance to prove it.

[ao3 link]

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“How can someone not be ticklish?” 

Wyll’s expression twisted into something incredulous, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, his nose crinkling in the most adorable way with the force of his frown. Tav couldn’t help the soft smile that rose to their face at the sight. They relaxed back onto the blanket the two of them had spread over the grass, fiddling idly with the now-empty basket that had previously held their rather late dinner.

“I don’t know,” they hummed. “Just that I’m not.”

Wyll’s frown deepened and he shifted closer, lying parallel to Tav. “Just that no one’s found the right places, you mean.”

Tav laughed, soft and light so as not to disturb the peace of the night, and let Wyll draw them in closer with an arm around their waist. “This seems rather important to you. A favorite pastime of yours?”

Wyll’s nose crinkled again as he lost himself in thought. “Not quite as such, though I remember not minding much as a boy.”

Tav hummed, absent-mindedly running their fingers up and down Wyll’s arm. Of course, it made sense that the Blade of Frontiers wouldn’t have much time to explore frivolities like those in recent years. There was a sharp sense of loneliness accompanying the title of Hero, as Tav was quickly learning over the course of their adventures. It was hard to build a real connection with anyone once you became larger-than-life.

Tav was drawn out of their thoughts by Wyll’s fingers tracing down their own arm, a gentle, barely-there touching mimicking their own ministrations. His fingers slipped between their own once he reached their hand, and he gave it a quick squeeze.

“Everyone’s ticklish somewhere.”

“And is that a fact?”

“I’d say so.”

Tav grinned and shook their head. “Is this you asking permission?”

“Only if you wouldn’t mind a little… let’s call it playful exploration.”

Tav thought back to days that felt lifetimes away by now. To friends tussling, fingers squeezing and kneading, disappointed sounds turning to shocked laughter as tables were turned. They smirked and leaned forward to press a brief, chaste kiss against Wyll’s lips.

“Only if you wouldn’t mind the consequences, once I get bored.”

This time when Wyll’s face twisted, it was into something almost bashful, a nervous smile tugging at his own lips. “I suppose, if that would be the price to pay.”

Tav flopped over onto their back, Wyll following after to prop himself over their prone form with a hand by either side of their head. He leaned down and kissed them, drawing it out until Tav had butterflies swarming around their stomach from the attention. Wyll pulled back with a smirk, all too aware of the effect he had on them, brushing a finger over the flush that now filled their cheeks. They squirmed under his gaze, blush deepening.

“Get on with it,” Tav grunted.

Wyll’s smile widened. “I don’t see why I should. You’re clearly not growing bored.”

“Wyll.”

Wyll laughed, rich and deep, shifting around until he sat next to their prone form instead of looming over them. Rather than diving in with squeezing fingers like Tav expected, Wyll gathered up their hand again, dragging his fingers around their palm with a gentle touch. It tingled a little, enough to be distracting, but not enough to warrant a twitch, let alone a laugh. Tav furrowed their brows.

“What are you doing?”

Wyll raised an eyebrow. “Tickling you.”

“That’s not tickling.”

“Is it not? What is, then?”

Tav waved around their free hand, searching for the words. “It’s not that, it’s like– like–” They grumbled, instead choosing to demonstrate by reaching out and squeezing one of Wyll’s thighs.

They couldn’t help the way they brightened at the choked-off giggle he made, an almost predatory instinct inside them begging them to do it again, to tickle him down to the blanket and steal the laughter from his lungs.

“That’s certainly one way of doing it,” Wyll said. “But tonight, I think I prefer a more gentle method.”

Wyll’s fingers drifted away from their palm, up their wrist and forearm, and into the crease of their elbow. They frowned at the foreign sensation, electric and distracting in the oddest of ways. After a quick wiggle in the crook of their arm, his fingers wrapped around to the outside of their arm, dancing up towards their shoulder. Almost imperceptibly, Tav’s breath hitched. More noticeably, their arm twitched away.

“Oh?” Wyll said. “Have I found something?”

Wyll focused on their upper arm, fluttering his fingers in the stretch between their elbow and shoulder. An involuntary smile tugged at Tav’s lips and they had to fight themselves to not tear away from his touch.

“That feels weird,” Tav said, wholly unfamiliar with the giddy tone that overtook their voice.

“I think you mean,” Wyll chuckled, leaning down to peck a kiss on their shoulder, “it tickles.”

Without warning, his fingers spidered up and over Tav’s shoulder, diving into the crook of their neck. Tav squealed, shocking themselves with the noise, as their shoulders shrugged up in a feeble attempt at protection. It did nothing to drive Wyll off. If anything, it made him all the more determined. Tav’s knees curled into their chest and they rolled onto their side, trying instinctively to dislodge him. A few more seconds of tickling, and uncontrollable giggles started to burst out of them.

“Still not ticklish?” Wyll asked, spidering his free hand up the opposite side of their neck to their ear. “Or have you gotten bored yet?” 

Tav was hardly aware of the unintelligible mess that escaped their mouth, bringing their knees up to their chest to curl up as tight as they could as if it would save them. Wyll laughed, his fingers slowing.

“Well?”

Tav puffed out their cheeks. “Fine. I’m a tad ticklish.”

Wyll smirked. “And not a bit bored.”

“No,” Tav huffed out, then quickly matched his expression. “Though I never guaranteed you free from revenge.

[maitaiwiththecorpses]

i have been crying on and off for the past twelve hours because no one wants to play with my hair.

In this essay, I will explain to you why starving someone with adhd of physical touch is SO detrimental.

HA

YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T GOING TO WRITE THE ESSAY HUH

WELL HERE IT IS BITCHES

People with adhd suffer from what is commonly known as 'object impermanence'. This being the case, it kinda narrows down our potential list of love languages (btw this is by no way all encompassing to the adhd community, but this is based off both personal experience and a lot of research) Soooo that leaves us with words of affirmation, quality time, and physical touch. And you know what goes hand in hand? Quality time and physical touch. SO for the purpose of this essay/dissertation/rant, we're going to consider those as one and the same (yes i am completely aware how different they can be BUT FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS ESSAY-). Take words of affirmation away- those go away pretty quickly anyway- and you're basically left with physical touch.

If you deprive someone who REGULARLY and CHRONICALLY lacks dopamine, the chemical needed in order for their brain and body to function, be happy, basically be human, and then deprive them of the medium in which they prefer to experience affection in, I'll be damned if they're NOT crying non stop for the next twelve hours only to go numb from the overstimulation and raging swells of emotion. Not to mention, rejection sensitivity dysphoria, or RSD, is SUPER common with people who have adhd and is kinda hard to combat once they're already in a swing of dysphoria, so when you 'reject' them (deprive them of their affection) you're basically telling them, "nope, you're lying to me about your needs, you don't need this affection right now, or ever, and you're just a clingy little bitch."

Ahem.

Of course, it's completely understandable when the person who is supposed to be physical with the adhder isn't in the mood for hugs or hair playing or cuddling, but if you consciously have an adhder and they need that kind of affection, then BOTh of you need to be equipped with strategies and mechanisms to 1) combat the RSD 2) meet both people's needs 3) BE FUNCTIONAL HUMAN BEINGS

the worst part is, because people with adhd experience such strong and crippling RSD, a lot of the time they can't even bring themselves to ASK for affection which them leads them into a further pid of dysphoria and depression which then leads to a NON FUNCTIONAL HUMAN BEING.

So. What am I saying? Cuddle your peeps with adhd (consensually.) And play with their hair. Especially if they explicitly asked for it, because that shit is hard. Give them a hug. Hold their hand. We're touched starved out here, people, do fluffy domestic shit or smth. Pull us by the belt loops and give us crushing hugs that could end panic attacks I DONT KNOW GET CREATIVE

[therapardalis]

becomelions·:

-

There was no memory of the wrongs he committed and when he did try to remember, a sharp pain shot through his head. What was slipping through felt like he was watching from his perspective but he had no recollection of doing it himself. It was as if watching a video. What he did know, for a fact, was how angry he was at him. He could see it plain as day. It wasn’t hard to miss. The way she looked at him and spoke to him all showed that well enough. It was impossible to ignore, even when he looked away he could still feel the gaze on him. But he wasn’t lying, there was no reason for it in his mind. If what she was saying was true then he’d have a reason to lie, but it wasn’t. He was sure of it. 

Her question is slightly deserved but he still looks at her with disbelief. “I don’t know, Thera, maybe have the benefit of the doubt?” Because they had something there even if they hadn’t entirely talked about it. He thought she knew him better than that. That what they had meant something and maybe the anger was coming from there or it was coming from the fact she thought she had been easily fooled if that was true. It wasn’t and it made him feel like maybe this had placed him more in the deep end than her. “Maybe that I was being set up?” He adds with a shake of his head as the topic then seems to turn to a questionnaire. 

His gaze narrows a bit, looking her over as she speaks. “I wasn’t even aware we split up. We said bye because I had to go to DC and do my job, I had to go some assignments with Cap and then you weren’t there at the hospital but you’re here now. And I don’t fucking know how I got here.”

She’s breathing. She hates this. She hates it with a low, thick blob in the base of her throat, the unseen bruise of pride before a fall. For a second or two her head spins, the lump in her throat tries to catch, and she looks away to lock it down.

“I was at the hospital.” Her voice rasps, still lined in harshness because otherwise too much hurt will leak through. “I didn’t get there until oh-god the next morning because HYDRA came for us in New York as well, and I had a war on my hands.” At least with a war she knows what she's doing. That's what she's built for, not ... not whatever the hell had been going on with glances in the halls and stolen moments at his place or hers. “No-one would let me see you.”

Her brow creases, memories stirring other thoughts, possibles, maybes. “And I did give you the benefit of the doubt.” Why is she defending herself now? When he was the one who ... another breath, before she goes on, “I found Fury. He told me. I screamed at him, so he showed me the security tapes. What, do you think I’d just roll over because someone said a bad thing? They were supposed to be moving you to another hospital, but you vanished on the way.”

She’s still angry, but it’s barely even aimed at him anymore. Instead it’s ... she doesn’t really know. But if Brock’s telling the truth then he didn’t fool her, he didn’t leave ... he was taken. Slowly, and then completely. Thera’s not sure she wants to deal with that thought right now. “In any case ... you’re on around half a dozen ‘Most Wanted’ lists. So what the blazes am I going to do with you now?”

[justthehiddleswrites]

Eat Your Words | Tom Hiddleston x Loki x Female Reader

A/N:  It is Tom’s birthday!  My third one here celebrating.  And boy did I bring the filth.  Please read the warnings. And huge shoutout to @frostbitten-written​ for giving me the plot idea!  You are a smut sister of the first order!!

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Loki x Reader

Summary:  You mercilessly tease your husband about how amazing Loki is and how good he would be in bed.  You never realized that could be a reality.

Warnings: SMUT, sexual acts include: vaginal sex, anal sex, masturbation, anal fingering, double penetration (mouth and vagina, vagina and ass), oral sex (m receiving), a bit of voyeurism, a small bit of m/m kissing, cursing, aftercare, vaginal fingering

Taglists are open! Let me know if you wanted to be added to my tag list!!  Thank you for reading!

-

Tom knew about your not-so-secret obsession. You were a horrid liar and more so talking in your sleep.

“What are you reading, darling?” Tom tried peeking over your shoulder, but you slam the laptop shut.

“How about mind your business, Hiddleston?” You scrunched your nose at him.

“So more Loki porn.” he smirked as he walked past.

“The word is smut. And no.” You stared him down and he stared right back at you, leaning over the arm of the sofa. He raised an eyebrow. You squirmed in place. “It was fan art.”

“Cock or no cock?”

You grew hot. “Cock.” you threw a pillow. “Happy?”

Tom caught the pillow in the air and placed it back on the couch.

“No. How many times do I have to tell you to not throw the pillows?” His face broke out into a wide grin before plopping on the couch. “What is your fascination with Loki, darling? You realize I play Loki?” He clutched his chest. “If I wasn’t so self-assured, I might become jealous.”

You set your laptop down and sat up, rubbing his thigh. “Darling, I’m sorry…” Tom turned and smiled at you. “… but there is no way you can compare to Loki.” You burst into giggles and took off running, Tom fast behind you. He crouched down at the entrance to where the stairs are. The only thing between you and freedom was your husband.

“Take it back.” he growled.

“No. You are impressive, Tom. But Loki has the cock of a god.”

“One of these days you are going to have to eat your words.” Tom’s face broke out into a grin.

“Make me, Hiddleston.” you grinned back, bouncing back and forth.

He stood up, smile gone. “You don’t really want that, darling. Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, what, you have Loki staying in the spare bedroom?” you mocked. “Get real, honey. Loki is a fiction and you are the man who plays him. You are my husband and I love you, but no one could fuck me like a god.”

Tom sighed. “I warned you, darling. If I catch you this time, I will show no mercy.” He chuckled. “And neither will he.” he muttered under his breath.

You barreled towards him before attempting to duck under his arm as you shoved all your body weight against him. Tom rolled his eyes and easily lifted you onto his shoulder.

“Put me down, Tom!” You pounded your fists against his back.

He carried you up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, dropping you onto the bed and walking towards a chair in the corner.

“Why am I here, Tom?” you glanced around.

Tom gestured to the other side of the room. “Ask your boyfriend.” he smirked.

You spun around to see a flash of light dissipate in the air. To find Loki standing there. In full armor.

“Now Thomas,” his voice deep and resonant. “We haven’t officially discussed my title.” he smirked as he strolled to where you are sitting.

Loki hooked a finger under your chin and took you in.

“What do you think?” Tom asked from the corner. He shifted in his seat. “She’s feisty.”

“Excuse you?” you snapped back. “I don’t know what you think you are playing at Hiddleston, but…” You stood, wagging your finger at him. Loki snatched your wrist, pulling you back against him.

“You married well, Thomas.” Loki hummed. Tom smiled from his chair. Loki cupped your cheek. “Very well.”

As he pressed you against his torso, you noticed Loki’s erection hard against you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off… again.

“Tell me, pet.” His fingers ran down from your temple to your chin. “Is this how you imagined it?”

Your brow furrowed. “Imagine what?” You pushed away from him, only to slam back against Tom. “I don’t know what kind of joke this is…”

“Enough!” Loki yelled and turned away. “I know all about what you say about me, dove.” He settled into the chair once occupied. “How you read stories about my prowess in bed.” He took off his boots and wrist guard. “Drooled over art of my cock.” With a flick of the wrist, he removed his tunic and armor, leaving himself in just his trousers. He leaned forward licking his lips. “Dreamed of me fucking you.”

You gasped and glared at Tom. “YOU TOLD HIM!?”

“Not that he needed to.” Loki shifted in his seat and lowered his trousers just enough to pop his cock free. “Any hacker could find your browser history. And reading stories about being fucked by me and your darling Thomas…” Loki clicked his tongue as he stroked his shaft. “… naughty.”

Tom reached over and cupped your face. “Is this the fantasy, darling? Me AND him?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Just say the word.”

You stared up at him and then your eyes trailed down to find Tom sporting a raging hard on. You shifted your weight and peeked around Tom to spy Loki still stroking himself. He gave you a wink.

“I don’t have all day.” Loki called out.

You had to admit the thought of the whole scenario was too erotic for words. Your mouth was suddenly dry, all the moisture in your body, pooled elsewhere.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Tom smiled and leaned in to kiss you, slipping your straps down off your shoulders. You reached out and cupped his cock through his jeans. A flash of light covered you and Tom, causing your clothes to disappear.

“Much better.” Loki growled from his seat, now naked as well. He motioned the two of you towards the bed. “Go on. Entertain me. Show me how well you fuck your wife.” His lips curled into a devious grin.

Tom eased you onto the bed and crawled on top of you. He could sense your nerves. “Just think of it like when we met on set. And my modesty sock fell off?”

You chuckled and nodded. Tom nipped at the spot behind your ear and you let loose a soft gasp. His hands traveled down to squeeze your breast, teasing your nipple into a hard pebble.

Loki grunted through his teeth.

“Darling…” Tom moaned, twisted so you were on top. His fingers find your folds wet. “Wet already?”

“Of course she is.” Loki commented, he stood and walked towards the bed. He ran his hand down your back and cupped your ass before slipping down, plunging a long finger inside of you.

He hummed. “Thomas, if you don’t move things along, I may just take her myself and make you watch.”

“Why don’t you both take me right now?” you purred, placing kisses along Tom’s neck and chest while Loki curled his finger inside of you and Tom lazily played with your clit.

“What a splendid idea, pet.” Loki commented. “The best idea I’ve heard so far.” He grabbed you by the waist and hauled you up, placing you on the bed on all fours.

Tom shifted around to be behind you, smoothing his hands over your ass. He bent over to whisper in your ear.

“Remember darling, how you commented about the cock of a god?”

You noticed Loki kneeling in front of her. His cock dripped pre cum from the tip. He was big, even bigger than Tom.

“Fuck me….” you hissed. Tom pushed into you with a snap.

“As you wish, darling. But now it is also time to eat your words.”

Your jaw dropped open to snap back at Tom, when Loki pushes his cock into his mouth.

You groaned against his cock, gagging slightly as he pushed most of his impressive length down her throat.

Loki groaned. “Thomas, she is exquisite. Why have you been hiding her away?”

Tom gripped your hips and snapped against you. “The same reason I hide everything away from you. I don’t want to share.”

You moaned as they thrusted into you in conjunction. Loki was more forceful than Tom. You hollowed your cheeks to suck off Loki.

“You’ve never had a problem sharing before.” Loki growled and pulled Thomas towards him, leaning over you by the scruff of his neck.

Loki’s lips pressed against Tom’s and he moaned. Loki pulled Tom’s head forward and slipped his tongue into Tom’s mouth. Tom groaned as he did the same.

You overheard the lips smacking and the mental image tipped you over the edge and you screamed around Loki’s cock and clenched hard around Tom, shuddering.

Loki pulled away and chuckled. He lifted your face to stare at him. “Did you cum little pet at the sounds of me making out with our dear Thomas?” Loki averted his eyes to stare at Thomas, who had pulled out of you, blushing. “What a naughty girl.” He shifted to lie back on the pillows. “My turn, Thomas.”

Thomas grunted. “She’s not prepared for me yet.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. “Whose problem is that?” Loki spread his legs wide. “Come here, pet, and ride me.”

You crawled over to Loki and straddled his hips. You grabbed his cock and lowered yourself onto him.

“Oh god…” you moaned as you settled against his thighs.

“Yes I am.” He gripped your hips and rocked you back and forth.

Tom stared at Loki. “Can you at least hand me that bottle?” He gestured at the bottle of lube on one pillow.

Your eyes widened. “You’re not going to…”

Loki magicked the bottle into Thomas’s hand. He squirted some on his fingers.

“You’ve been training, haven’t you? Wearing the plug I got you?” Tom’s hand slid between your cheeks, massaged your tight entrance, pressed you against Loki’s chest. “Or is that something else you have been lying to me about?” He slowly sunk his well lubed finger into your ass.

“FUCK…” you hissed. Tom stilled as did Loki to allow you to adjust.

After a few moments, Loki gave you ass a soft smack. “Pet…”

You rocked up and down on him as Tom slowly plunged his finger in and out of you. Soon he added a second one and you cursed again as he scissored them inside of you, opening you up.

“If you would train properly, this would be easier.”

Loki cupped your face. “And next time it will be me.” He kissed your lips. “Although I must say, fucking your cunt is a treat. So wet and tight.” He growled.

Tom pulled out his fingers and squirted out some more lube and ran his hand along his shaft.

“Loki…” Tom gave the god a knowing glance.

“Right…” He pulled you tight against him and kissed you with a passion. His fingers found your clit and stroked it.

Tom eased into you, he panted when he was fully seated against your ass. You were so incredibly tight around him.

“My god… darling… why have we… Loki….” Tom threw his head back when he gently thrusted into you.

Loki released your lips softly, a small trail of saliva connecting your two lips. Your eyes locked for a moment and you saw it, those same kind eyes. Loki smiled which turned to a smirk and soon he was full on grinning.

He bucked his hips and gasped. “You clenched even tighter around me.” He leaned down to purr in your ear. “Let’s see how you milk my cock as you come undone.”

The two of them alternated thrusting into you. Soon you were reduced to a whimpering moaning mess. The only words you knew were “yes” and “don’t stop.” Soon your orgasm washed over you, stronger than ever before.

“FUCK!” you screamed in a now hoarse voice. You spasmed and clenched around both of them before your vision went white.

“Ah… AH!” Loki moaned as he thrusted twice before spilling inside of you. Tom soon followed with a deep grunt, filling your other hole.

You fell against Loki’s chest, sweaty and spent. Loki smoothed down your hair. “You were exquisite, pet.”

Tom crawled beside the two of you, rubbing your back. “You did so well, darling.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek and lips and then pecked Loki’s lips.

“Hmm…” you hummed, still coming down for your high. “Thank you.”

Loki pushed the two of you up and leaned you into Tom’s arms. “Why don’t the two of you get cleaned up and meet me downstairs?” He licked his lips, taking in your form. “We have much to discuss.”

[another-stark-sub]

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.” 

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all  you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best. 

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic. 

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you. 

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe. 

It was addicting. 

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has  78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned. 

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t. 

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no. 

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop. 

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal. 

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him. 

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis. 

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue. 

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable. 

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.” 

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing. 

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons? 

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened. 

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks. 

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked. 

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead. 

It was a hard press of  your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much. 

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him. 

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck. 

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek. 

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours. 

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased. 

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him. 

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as  you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first.  “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

[greensaplinggrace]

do you have any darklina fic recs?

I certainly have a few! But first I want to clarify that I don’t really read fic when I’m writing it, and since I have so many fics in the works right now, I haven’t really been reading a lot of fanfiction. So this list probably won’t be as extensive as it could be.

Here are some other great fic recommendation posts, however:

DARKLINA FIC RECS by @vicioux

DARKLINA FIC RECS // part ii by @vicioux

Darklina Ruling the World Together Fic Recs by @clubofthestarlesssaint

Tumblr Ficlets

Aleksander’s First Memory by @kestrafagnor

Fivan Talk About Darklina by @jomiddlemarch

a little light in the great, big dark by @valkyrhys

Alina tells Mal she’s with Aleksander by @lorsanbitch

Darklina week day 5: intimacy & touch by @starlesscne

AO3 Fanfiction

if it ain’t me by larry_hystereks (Incomplete - 10/13 Chapters)

alina’s in her second year at Yale when she meets aleksander at one of his frat parties.

a hookup with the potential for more, only if alina wasn’t still struggling to piece herself together from last year’s breakup.

or: alina, zoya, their trust issues, and the men that fall for them

---

I’m only at about chapter 6 of this fic currently, but so far it’s one of my all time favorite Modern AUs. The characterization for Alina and Aleksander is incredibly well done, and the entire fic itself is so feminist and queer in such a refreshing way. Aleksander and Alina are bisexual as fuck, both with their own separate complex lives, and much of Alina’s own traumas and relationships are explored outside of Aleksander.

There’s some Zoyalina, with Nikolina friendship and endgame Zoyalai. There’s some mystery and some tension, but nothing too extreme, and a lot of the fic is merely an exploration in growth and overcoming one’s history and learning how to move on in healthy ways. I love it.

She Wears a Collar (With My Name) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

She is immortal, and whatever lingering hints of humanity she may have once had have long been bleached from her heart.

I will grant you one wish, boy, if it is in my power to do so. What does a Shadow Smith most want?

"You," he answers.

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 2: Role Reversal

---

This piece is just exquisite. This author’s writing style is one that I particularly enjoy. Their stuff is always so uniquely composed and crafted, and this one especially is a work of art. The way Darklina as a relationship is portrayed in particular is fascinating to me because it’s a role reversal but it’s still so complex. Aleksander’s character is nailed.

the bright sun was extinguish’d by athousandwinds (Complete)

Somewhere, deep in the dark forests of Ravka, a boy grows up on stories of Sankta Alina of the Wastes, the Sun-Scorched Saint.

---

This fic is just straight up magnificent. It’s so engaging and I love love love the way a role reversed Aleksander who joins the army is portrayed. He reminds me so much of Demon in the Woods Aleksander, as if he’s exactly what a grown version of that young boy would be. When I say I adore his characterization in this I’m not lying.

If I wanted any completed fic I’ve read to have a second chapter, it would be this one.

Winter in the Little Palace by redisxwing (Complete)

Written for Yuletide 2020.

Baghra and Alina's wildly different perspectives on the Darkling, and how things could have gone if nobody listened to Baghra.

Warning: Baghra is written as a harsh and arguably abusive parent, and this is darkfic about that relationship, with a side of shipping. Everything is terrible (except the parts that are pretty much okay).

Canon divergence pretty much as soon as Alina gets lessons in summoning.

This fic is likely not compatible with King of Scars (or any subsequent work).

---

As is said in the summary, this one makes Baghra a bit more extreme. If you’re a fan of Baghra, this fic probably isn’t for you. But since I’m not a fan of Baghra, I had no problems with it.

My biggest praise for this fic is in regards to the character interactions and the POVs. There’s a brilliant grasp of unique perspective and how to convey it, and that talent is carried over into the way character interactions are brought to life in the text. Also, there’s a scene where Alina gets kind of protective of the Darkling, which is one of my biggest weaknesses when it comes to Darklina.

Good Ideas by FelixRivers (Complete)

Alina Starkov had a very good idea. Aleksander Morozova would definitely agree. (or: Alina wants to go camping and Aleksander won't complain)

---

This fic is just straight up adorable and hilarious. They’re such a cute couple and Alina’s POV is great. It’s just pure fluff and humor 💕

I’m not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you by SanktaJenya - @sankta-arya (Complete)

Winter had been hard on Old Baghra and Ana Kuya was worried about her, so she decided that Alina should make the trip to her cottage on the other side of the woods to bring her some food and kvas. On her way there, Alina meets a stranger...

Darklina Red Riding Hood/Company of Wolves AU

Darklina Week, Day 4, Fairytales

---

This fic has a splendid grasp of tension and atmosphere. It’s very enchanting and dark and intriguing, and it nails those aspects with absolute precision. I love the style and the way the fairytale is incorporated into the narrative. It’s truly a masterpiece.

The Wretched by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“We are strangers, but I want to help.” He growls at her, mocking and mistrustful. “I understand,” she said. ���You think I am one of them. I certainly look like one of them. But I want to help you. Will you let me?” Prompt: fairytale. Alina saves a dragon.

---

Okay so I’ve mentioned this one before as one of my Top 5 fics of all time and I still stand by that. I can’t even describe why I love this fic so much except that the pacing is amazing and the prose is stunning and the story is beautiful. Aleksander is a dragon and Alina is a witch, and their relationship is just so...interesting and fascinating and lovely. I would literally kill for this fic. There’s such a softness to it as well. Such a tenderness. Idk, I just really love it.

Show Me Who You Are (I Want To Know) by Ceris_Malfoy (Incomplete - 12/?)

Alina takes her future in her own hands and makes her own decisions.

---

This is a great “what if Alina had stuck around after the reveal” rewrite. It doesn’t have Mal bashing and in fact still writes them as close friends, which is something I’m fond of in Darklina fics. Aleksander is allowed to be soft and Alina is allowed to be powerful, and I really enjoyed the take on their dynamics as a power couple wherein Alina is given a lot of control.

There’s something to be said for the way Aleksander is written in the scenes where he must be honest and earnest with Alina. I really enjoy the way they both come to equal ground, and I’m even more fond of the way Alina is allowed to grow darker without losing her light. She also engages a lot with quite a few other characters, developing tons of friendships and alliances on her own that help strengthen her as an individual character.

on this bridge between starshine and clay by @rhea-imagined (Complete)

"His breath narrows for a moment, his fist clenched tight before he forces himself to loosen it. She is his only opportunity for salvation, but vulnerability is not a cape he wears easily. “In those days, there was less prejudice against Shadow Summoners. But everyone fears the dark, in one way or another.” He does not look at her as he waits for the penny to drop, half-hoping it stays suspended in the air."

In which Alexander comes clean to Alina and tells her about his true identity in hopes that this will help convince her to take down the Fold.

A rewrite of the fountain scene in episode four, with a good!Darkling that is trying to make amends.

---

This is my all-time favorite good!Aleksander AU. He’s kept in character despite the major changes made to his motivations, and Alina is given a lot more agency in her own story. It’s the first fic in what might become a series, but it can stand alone beautifully.

I love how Aleksander and Alina’s relationship is allowed to grow tense without breaking, and how it’s a clear sign of change but not abandonment. I love how both characters are able to think for themselves and become self-aware and are given the chance to think critically. I love the character interaction so much because it’s honest and fresh and engaging. Everything from the smallest action to the most off-hand thought is in character and meaningful and incorporated with an amazing style of writing. It’s a very refreshing piece, and the writing only makes it that much better.

Bunnies of a Feather Stitch Together by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Just as Alina called to the light, gathering and twisting it into a ball in her hands, the door swung open.

Kirigan blacked out the door frame. His appearance enough would have surprised Alina, but there was something clutched in his arm, something dark and floppy. It almost looked like the stuffed toys that had been passed around to the younger Orphans." - Alina and The Darkling bond over a love of soft things

---

Soft stuffed animal shenanigans. Bits of trans!Aleksander, which I’m very fond of, as well as just a lot of fluff with a bit of something bittersweet and sad in a good way.

Half Lie by Ill_Ratte (Complete)

"Baghra always talked of the demon that had stolen her daughter." Or, Alina learns the hard way that the Darkling isn't the only one who deals in half-truths

---

This one is trans!Aleksander, and it handles it in a very interesting way. It’s quite sad, and deals a lot with Baghra & Aleksander’s relationship through Alina’s POV. I want to give a warning for transphobia, because it does center around that a lot as the premise, but it really is worth the read if that isn’t a trigger for you. This is one of my favorite trans!Aleksander fics, and the way it handles emotion and grief and pain is quite extraordinary.

The CEO and Helioseismologist by mrthology (Complete)

Aleksander Morozova doesn't get sick. He's the CEO of one of the most successful companies in the world, one that he had built from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears. He exercised daily (usually), maintained a healthy diet, and kept himself fit.

He wasn’t sick.

Too bad no one believed him. And too bad Genya decided to call Ivan to take him home before also calling Alina to take care of him.

Maybe, just maybe, being sick wasn't so bad. Especially not when he has such a wonderful girlfriend.

---

Both of the fics in this series are great, but I love this one in particular because I’m an absolute sucker for hurt/comfort. Anyone who’s been on my blog for a while knows that it’s my all time favorite trope to read, and this fic fits the hurt/comfort trope to a T in the best of ways. It’s very tender and in character, and Aleksander and Alina are so soft with each other. It’s adorable and really makes you feel for Aleksander, and the caretaking is done perfectly.

All the different layers of dark (thousand little suns) by Anuna (Complete)

One month after the Winter Fete, Aleksander returns to the Little Palace, and Alina has been missing him.

Or

Episode five canon divergence in which Alina had never left Os Alta.

---

This one is soft emotional hurt/comfort smut. They’re both so open and vulnerable with each other, and it’s so beautiful to read. I love the writing style and the emotion in this one. It makes my heart ache in the best way.

An Honourable Man by liviy695 (Complete)

A reimagining of the scene after the winter fete. Alina catches a glimpse of a caring Darkling after he returns from integrating the Conductor. Plus, no Baghra interference.

---

This one is what it says on the tin, in that Baghra doesn’t interfere and they’re allowed to talk after the Darkling interrogates the Conductor. But more than that, it’s a great imagining of how a scene where Aleksander reveals Marie’s death would have gone. There’s a sort of quiet to it that I appreciate, with grief and solemnity weighed against care and vulnerability.

I see the real you (even if you don’t, I do) by Anonymous (Incomplete - 8/?)

A series of questionable decisions lead Alina to meet the Black General a bit earlier. Butterfly effect ensues.

---

I’ve only read half so far (I hadn’t realized it had updated!! 👀👀) but I’m already in love with this fic. Alina’s dialogue and perspective is perfect, her relationship with Mal and the other cartographers is great, and I really enjoy how much personality she has. Aleksander is so smitten, but more than that, his characterization is soft but not weak. It feels almost as if he’s swept up by Alina, instead of the other way around, and I quite like that.

Of parenting by Anuna (Complete)

Alina finds out how her husband handled yet another parenting situation.

---

This is pure adorable Darklina parenting fluff and I live for it. Yet it doesn’t lack depth and in fact explored Alina and Aleksander’s relationship with parenting quite well.

i have a longing by LRCee - @ladylyannastark (Complete)

“So, Alina Starkov, risk-taker, how did you end up being editing’s newest wunderkind?”

Alina Starkov is rising in the publishing world. Singlehandedly responsible for editing (see: rewriting) the hottest book of the year, she lands a coveted spot at Morovoz Publishers. It's the position she's always wanted, at the biggest publishing house in the country. Life is perfect. That crush on her boss though, that's gotta go.

---

OKAY! I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH!! Let me tell you, as someone who is not too fond of Boss/Employee dynamics, I was very wary going into this fic. But boy did it deliver in a way that was perfect for me.

The relationship that develops between Aleksander and Alina is complex but healthy, and it never feels as if there’s too much of a power imbalance or anything that would make Alina feel forced or unhappy. The tension lies purely in how she fears others will perceive her, and not in how unhealthy her relationship with Aleksander is. For somebody who’s often attracted to unhealthy ships, I have to say that my favorite fics are usually ones that don’t have that type of dynamic between the characters. This fic delivers on that.

Also, Aleksander’s POV surrounding his struggle with his Russian heritage and his feelings for Alina is amazing, and has some of the best writing and characterization I’ve seen.

You receive: an evil demon; I receive: human souls by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

The next morning while she tried to tell herself it was a dream, that of course there wasn’t a fucking demon in her house, she found a note taped to her fridge.

“You might eat this shit,” it had written, “but I would like some fucking souls please.”

Darkling Week Prompt 7: free choice. Alina has a demon in her house.

This is absolute crack, and I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with me.

---

May I just say that this is the most fun I’ve ever had when reading a fic. It’s interesting with a bit of mystery, and Aleksander as a little shit of a demon is hilarious. Alina in this fic is great too. It’s such a unique take on her POV, especially when you reread it after knowing the ending. 10000/10, this fic is brilliant in every way and I love it.

I had been lost to you, Sunlight by BrytteMystere (Complete)

A Girl became a Woman, became a Sankta, became a Goddess.

Or: An Immortal Alina calls upon merzost to reunite with the Prince of Shadows she lost long ago. She may have lost herself in the process.

But then again, maybe time and endless wars did that instead.

---

You really just have to read this one to get it. It is utterly haunting and fascinating in the best of ways. The writing style is strange and novel and fits so well with the story being told. The composition of the fic as a whole is genius.

I Look Inside Myself (And See My Heart Is Black) by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"When is a monster not a monster? Why, when you love it, of course."

Written for Darklina Week 2021 - Day 6: Favorite Quote • King & Queen • Monster

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Once more, this author comes through with an absolutely breathtaking writing style and story. The imagery is elegant yet brutal, simultaneously horrifying and glorious. There’s a certain way these stories are written, like fairytales, where the beautiful becomes the macabre and becomes ever more stunning because of it. It’s very dark but in a good way - an almost bewitching way.

Afterlife by @aceofnowhere (Complete)

“You are asking me to leave?”

“Not asking, shadow,” she said. “Telling. Time to get unlost, loser.”

Day 3 Darklina Week prompt: Modern AU (I mean, barely)

Alina expels ghosts from purgatory.

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@aceofnowhere once again bringing the best of the paranormal to the Grishaverse. Literally everything you write is amazing idk why I’m even pointing out individual fics when I could just rec your whole page. But anyways!! This is fun and interesting and Alina is a badass. Aleksander is, of course, compelling and dark and kind of a little shit, and it’s all incorporated seamlessly into an existential paranormal narrative.

Once Upon a Shooting Star by Ceris_Malfoy (Complete)

"But most of all, she was drawn to a vast darkness that reached out above all of them, a void so hungry for companionship that she knew she could fulfill."

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Let. Alina. Be. Feral!! Anyways, I clearly have a type when it comes to storytelling, and it’s whatever the fuck this person has got going on. Feral!Star!Alina is literally the light of my life. Her interactions with not only other people but the world in general are so well done, but my favorite parts about this fic are the numerous ways her relationship with Aleksander is described and depicted.

I love the dark and light imagery, especially with how it’s portrayed as them filling in the gaps of each other’s lives and supporting each other instead of trying to block each other out. There’s such clear passion and joy and love and devotion between them. The central focus of this fic is on her and Aleksander’s relationship, the interplay between them and their powers and the way her light fills his loneliness, the passing of adoration and trust and reliance between them. It’s very beautiful and I love it.

A Blaze of Light by Keira_63 (Complete)

They discover the Sun Summoner in the burnt-out remains of the Shu laboratory in which she has spent the last seven years of her life.

Or, the Darkling finds himself with a Sun Summoner whose greatest wish is to burn Shu Han to the ground. He is happy to oblige her.

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👀👀 Badass Alina and Badass Aleksander. The ultimate power couple, and Alina burning a path through Shu Han before they both burn a path through the world together. The darkness and rage in this one are handled very well, and the way that rage turns to coldness and then resolve is done so well. This fic is very cathartic and also very furious, and reading it is certainly a trip down emotion lane.

One more for the Road by Rist (Complete)

He returns to the war room shaken, and finds an Alina that cannot leave without at least having tried.

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This one hurts so much but its soooo gooood!!! Very smutty but also very tender and very bittersweet. Sad and soft all at once. I just... love the way Alina and Aleksander are written so much, and Alina’s complicated feelings for him are explored in such detail and depth. This one is truly worth the read.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

secrets

© credits to the author, i found it on pinterest. if you are the author, please send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

request made by @homesicam: hi maria!! can I have prompt 15, feels mysterious and all and god bless bucky's soul (ofc) !! and thank you so much for your work !! ❤️

prompt: “Will be our secret”.

word count: 1.165 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky feeling like a lost puppy trying to fit in.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Like every time you came back from a mission, where you needed a little calm, you waited for the small hours to hit the clock. Walking out from your dorm, you led your feet through the hallways to downstairs. Crossing the huge large living room, you stepped to the back garden of the compound. As soon as you took off your house slippers, you continued along the grass, feeling the strands of grass beneath your toes tickling you. The sky was covered by shining stars all around and for a split second your mind went blank. There wasn’t any horror, any danger, any pain. The wounds and the scratches in your face and arms went to the background, as you closed your eyes to breathe the soft breeze fluttering your hair. You felt free.

Taking a seat on the grass, you put your knees against your chest and wrapped them with both arms. Sometimes you used to think about what made you so special to be part of the Avengers. You weren’t like Natasha, a professional spy. You weren’t like Tony, a genius. And of course, you weren’t a god, nor a witch, nor a supersoldier. Not even just a soldier like Sam. Of course, they were more than those skills. You were just an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. that survived its destruction and falling. It was inevitable to feel small when you joined them in their missions. Even so, it was better if any of them heard you talk about yourself like that, or they’d end up kicking your ass to be too humble and unfair with yourself and how much you train and work hard every single day. With no excuses.

“A broken heart is all that’s left, I’m still fixing all the cracks. Lost a couple of pieces when I carried it, carried it, carried it home…” Like a defense mechanism against your own hurtful thoughts, you started to sing with your eyes put on a starry night above your head.

A few days ago, you discovered that song and got really obsessed for some reason you didn’t know. It was like picking at the scab, thinking about your parents, about how much you missed them, about what they could be thinking about you. Would they feel proud? Would they feel scared?

“I’m afraid of all I am. My mind feels like a foreign land, silence ringing inside my head. Please, carry me… carry me… carry me home”.

“You sound like my mother”.

Those words raced your heart, more because of the surprise of someone else being there than for the confession. You couldn’t help but jump up from the floor, shaking the strands of grass from your clothes. Bucky was in front of you, a couple of steps away. He had his head slightly tilted to the right, squinting with some kind of confusion running through his mind. You crossed your arms on your chest a little ashamed, rubbing your nose with a side of your hand as you tried to hold back a tear.

Then, you dawn on and your brain reproduced his words again. For you, it meant a shock. You could count with the fingers of both hands the times you had shared a couple of words, maybe a small talk in a meeting before a mission. And you were sure it was the first time you two were alone. Bucky was pretty quiet, even shy you’d dare to say. After all the shit he lived in for many years, the fear of coming back to those dark days was still chasing him. Steve told you that he used to try and speak to anyone, to be normal, to be trusted. But after what he was forced to do, no one really trusted in him. And it wasn’t like you didn’t care about his past, because you’d be lying to yourself, but you were of those kinds of persons who thought that everybody deserves a second chance. If you didn’t give them anything to believe in, how would they be believers?

“Did she…?” You intoned slowly driven by curiosity, now that Bucky seemed interested in starting a conversation either way. But you didn’t want to sound disrespectful.

“She used to sing for my sister and me”. You watched him keep his hands inside the pockets of his sweatpants, coming closer to you as he noticed you weren’t afraid of him.

“My mom did it too”. You replied then, showing him a fleeting smile curving up your lips.

As soon as Bucky witnessed the sweet gesture from you and the way you were continuing the conversation, he felt relaxed. He felt welcomed from the first time he stepped into the compound. You waved a hand towards him, urging him to sit down as you went back to your seat on the grass. He joined you without hesitation, cheered up inside for making a new friend.

You lost track of time talking about everything and anything at the same time. Talking about your families, discovering he had a sister called Rebecca. Talking to you about the old good times where Steve and he were just a couple of punk wreak havoc all around Brooklyn. You couldn’t stop laughing, showing him how excited you were to know more about him and his adventures. You told him about the farm where you used to live and how you built something like a training camp to prepare yourself to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Bucky was fascinated by your determination and perseverance, comparing you to Steve when he wanted to join the army, before being Captain America.

Inevitably, you yawned when the sunset was about to happen, earning a soft nudge from the soldier. “C’mon, you should rest”.

“Yeah, I’m pretty dead… drawbacks of being only human”.

He stood up before you, helping you to get up from the ground. You walked indoors keeping silent, not knowing actually how to say goodbye. It was an awkward situation that barely lasted two seconds.

“Listen, about before… I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anyt—”.

“Sure”. Bucky interrupted you. The gesture of his face suddenly changed to a sad grimace with a feigned smile on his lips. “You don’t have to worry about”.

“Good! Uh… thank you. I bet Stark will bully me about the singing thing all the time. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes”. You couldn’t help but sigh with relief when his blue eyes, placed on his boots, were raised with a special shine on them. There, you understood what he thought about your uncompleted petition. “And about… you know, talking, I wouldn’t mind repeating it anytime else”.

“Only if you sing for me”. Bucky’s voice was like a soft breeze caressing your face, filled with hope and enthusiasm. You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes towards him. “Will be our secret”.

“Okay, deal”. You chuckled nodding. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

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[thomasshelbydrabbles]

The Messenger (14/22)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Adeline Taylor (OC)

Warnings: period typical sexism, series typical violence, period typical views of PTSD, period typical racism, blood and gore, smut

Summary: Campbell makes his next demands known, and everyone has an uncomfortable meeting. Alfie shares some tough love with Adeline down in Camden Town. 

**This is a series, so you should read The School Teacher first if you want to understand everything.**

Note:  As the show does, I am loosely using actual events and people from WW1  and other time periods represented in the show. These are fictionalized  versions of both events and the people.

Word Count: 3727

A/N: If you want added to the tag list, let me know.

Birmingham, 1922

The click of her heels echoed down the hallway as she approached Major Campbell. As she drew nearer, she noted the ever so slight smirk on his face giving him an aura of smugness that made her want to hit him until his lip was too swollen to be smug. Upon returning from the auction, Frances had greeted her at the door with a letter and a raised eyebrow. No doubt Major Campbell had been his charming self when the note had been delivered. 

“I expect you to be around, Miss Taylor, when I have need of your services. Per the terms of our agreement, of course.” 

Adeline smiled, eyes hard. “I’m a busy woman, Insp - I mean, Major Campbell. I have many obligations on my time. I might suggest a bit of planning on your part, just to avoid any unnecessary scheduling conflicts.” 

Major Campbell moved in close, pressed the wolf head of his cane against the soft space between her shoulder and her neck. It hurt, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a grimace. Oh how she would enjoy killing this man. If she could be patient enough, and the longer she engaged with him, the less likely that option was, she would love to embarrass him, make him a mockery before slowly draining the life from his body. 

“My agenda is your only priority, Miss Taylor.” 

She smirked. “I do enjoy your delusions. Your agenda is hardly a footnote on my ledger. A mere necessity, like a grocery list.” 

His eyes narrowed as he pressed the wolf head deeper into her shoulder. She could feel the bruise forming, knew Tommy would be upset about it.

“One day Miss Taylor you will come to regret your decision to place yourself as my adversary.” 

“Until then,” Adeline said, voice placid as though discussing the weather. “Shall we get on with it?” 

Abruptly, he pulled the cane away from her shoulder and Adeline fought down to rub the soreness from her arm. She followed him down the hall and into a small room with a fireplace along one wall. Seated at a long table in the middle of the room were Irene and Donal. Her lips curved into a cruel smile. To her surprise, Donal gave a subtle nod of his head, his eyes reflecting something other than the seething hatred she’d seen there before. Seems Byrne remained interested in maintaining their agreement. Good. Sliding her eyes to Irene, she noted the stiff way the woman sat, the rigid spine, hands clasped together on top of the table. 

“Take a seat, Miss Taylor,” Campbell instructed, gesturing with his arm. 

Donal stood and pulled out a chair across the table from where he and Irene sat, a mock smile on his face. Had she not caught his earlier glance, the look would have set her teeth on edge. Keeping up with their ruse, she offered him a bland smile as she sat down. 

“I know I’m meant to be surprised, to say, ‘oh, you’re working together, how interesting,’ but I’m not surprised and since I’m not overly fond of lying, I’ll just skip that bit and go straight to the point.” Adeline glanced at Major Campbell, saw him settle into the seat at the head of the table. “You,” she pointed at him. “You ordered the pub blown up. And you,” she pointed to Irene, “were stupid enough to actually do it.” 

“No one is untouchable,” Irene snapped. “Not even the Peaky Blinders.” 

“Of course no one is untouchable, you daft woman. But, and you’re a mother so I believe you should already know this, but just because you can touch something, doesn’t mean you should touch something. A trait,” Adeline smirked, “a character flaw you and Major Campbell share.” 

“Perhaps we should just stick to the agenda. None of us wants to be in the same room with each other, so the sooner we can begin our business, the sooner we can conclude it.”

Adeline blinked over at him. “I don’t know that I’ve ever quite agreed with you more. I find it to be a distasteful sensation.” 

“Noted.”

Pulling a cigarette from her purse, she blinked in surprise as Donal held out a match to light it for her. She inhaled a long pull of tobacco, closed her eyes, and let it work its magic to soothe her, if only temporarily. 

“You never did answer my question,” Adeline began, opening her eyes to stare hard at Irene. “Never did explain what it felt like to be working with the likes of the good Major here. A man who made his career killing folks like you, martyrs for your fucking cause. So tell me, how does that feel?” 

Anger flushed Irene’s cheeks, her jaw clenched as she turned away. 

“Can we just conduct ourselves?” Campbell asked. 

“Just tell me who it is you want me to kill this time. Can’t have the blood of Paddies on the hands of the Crown or the Fenians now can we? But me? No one gives a toss about the blood on my hands. Give me a name so I can leave.” 

“Are you sure we need her?” Irene asked. 

“She is the best option for completing the mission, though it pains me to admit it.”

Adeline smirked. “Aye. Major Campbell becomes uncomfortable when he has to pay me a compliment. Much easier for him to besmirch me, call me all sorts of nasty, vile little names.”

“Are you taking any of this seriously?”

“No. You’ve not given me a name. A name that you could have easily handed to me in a letter, whispered to me over a drink. Instead you summon me here to sit across the table from these two…Judas-types. Me mum would have adored you, Irene. She did love a woman with convictions, with a cause. Shame she was stuck with me as a daughter.” 

Irene slid a folder across the table to her. She slanted a look at Major Campbell, surprised the dossier didn’t come from him. Tucking that particular piece of information away, hoping it would be useful later. Looking through the information her eyebrow raised. This was no small time worker in Birmingham. This man must pose a serious threat to someone - she doubted he threatened the King directly. 

“Why him?”

“Did you ask why in France?” Irene asked, sneer on her face.

She resisted the urge to slap her. For a moment, she regretted the deal she’d struck with Byrne if only because of the timing of things. She doubted Campbell would be thrilled with her if she were to reach across and pluck Irene’s eyes from her face, cut her tongue from her mouth, but she wouldn’t kill the woman. Somehow she debuted Campbell would appreciate the difference. 

“I did.” 

Campbell leaned forward, breaking the tension between the two women. “Then it’s the same answer because.” 

She nodded her head more because she heard the words and less because she agreed. 

“You will have complete immunity after the fact, but in the actual mission itself, you will have no assistance from agents of the Crown.” 

“Good,” Adeline said, voice distracted as she reread the information. “I’ll not need to worry about amateurs mucking up my job.”

“Can one such as you afford to be so arrogant?” Derision dripped from Irene’s voice. “That you consider agents of the Crown to be amateurs?”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry yourself about it. If they had professionals, they’d have no need of me, now would they? I understand the intricacies of actual war and actual politics elude someone like you who has only a cause and a futile hope, so kindly allow the adults to finish their conversation without anymore of your inane interruptions.” 

“That’s quite enough!” Campbell’s voice echoed through the small room. 

Adeline smiled. “Aye, you’re quite right. Unless there’s more information than what’s in this little folder, I’ll take my leave.” 

Before anyone could respond, she pushed back from the table and hurried from the room. Halfway down the hall, she heard the distinct sound of Campbell’s cane against the floor. 

“Miss Taylor?” 

“What is it now? I’ve already agreed to do your killing for you. No part of our deal indicated I had to sit around a table with a couple of idiots just for fun. I’ve more important things to do with my time.” 

“You forgot this.” 

Adeline glanced down at the file Campbell held out to her. “I don’t need it.” 

“I didn’t think I would need to impress upon you the importance of this mission.” 

Adeline tilted her head. “No, you’ve impressed upon me admirably. I’m sure your superiors are quite impressed. I said I didn’t need the file. I’ve all the information I need to carry out your little assassination.” 

She continued down the hallway. Pausing at the end she asked, “Tell me, Major Campbell, when I’ve killed this man, how much longer can I expect to live?”

“I beg your pardon?”

She turned to face him, hands clasped in front of her, a mannerism she had picked up from Tommy. “I know how you operate, how you tie up loose ends. Will I have enough time to settle my affairs, tell my loved ones goodbye? No, I doubt it. I do wonder though, will you do it yourself? Will your mortality allow you to be the hand that ends my life for King and Country?”

“We’ll speak again soon, Miss Taylor.” 

She smiled sadly, a haunted humor in her eyes. “Oh, aye. You don’t like me well enough to leave me alone for any length of time.” 

 Camden Town, 1922 

Adeline lingered in the doorway, cigarette between her teeth as she watched Alfie rifle through the papers on his desk. When he read something that pleased him, he kept the glasses on his face, but when it upset him, he pulled the glasses from his nose as though blurring the words would make them disappear. The bakery sounded quiet from in here, given all the extra men, all the extra shipments. The silence cued her in, let her know this dispute with Sabini wasn’t a war. Even when no one fired a weapon, wars were never quiet. 

“You gonna lurk in the doorway all day, pet? Or are you going to come in and say a proper hello to me?” 

“You looked busy.”

“I’m always busy, so I always look busy, but you - you’ve never cared how busy I am, just barge in, demanding me time. So, I’ll ask again, pet, why are you lurking in my doorway?” 

Adeline smiled as she moved into the room. “How long have you known I’m here?” 

Alfie leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers under his chin. “Still trying to sneak up on me, are you, yeah? Well, you’re still shite at it, pet, still not very good at it at all you see because I can sense you coming. Can sense you right here - ” he patted his chest. “So no use in trying anymore, but you’re a stubborn sort so you’ll keep trying.” 

“One of these days, Alfie. I’ll have you eat those words.” 

“Make meal of them I will, if you finally manage it.” 

She smiled as she perched herself on the corner of his desk. “Are you going to offer me a drink?” 

“We staying here, pet? Thought you might want to head to the house first, get yourself all settled in.” 

Before she could answer, a tall ginger haired man walked into the room. Adeline moved swiftly from the desk and had the intruder bent over Alfie’s desk, arm twisted painfully behind his back before he could utter any words other than fuck. 

“Tommy Shelby,” Alfie began as he stroked his beard. “Good at many things, but he sent a big man, see, sent a big man to be a leader or something and that distributes power, gives lads like the one you’ve got bent over my table like a fucking whore silly little ideas.” 

“He’s one of Tommy’s?” 

“You fucking bitch. I’ve made a truce with Tommy Shelby.”

Adeline grinned at Alfie, pointed a finger at Billy Kitchen. “Do you hear him? Are you sure Tommy sent him?”

“Yes, pet. I hear him. Hear him every bloody day I do. Your man sends me hard working lads, for sure, yes hard working, but bloody loud. Always talking, shouting, goin’ on about who they are like anyone down here cares, right?” 

“I’ll not be spoken to like that.” 

“Mate,” Alfie said as he stood from the chair. “I don’t care what Tommy told you, right, about what you do here, about your authority. This woman standing here, the one who had you over a desk before the door closed behind you, right? She can give any order she wants to any man here, and if they’re fucking smart they’ll just do whatever it is she says.”

Adeline pulled his hand back harder, enjoying the way he winced. “And who exactly are you to be making truces with the likes of Tommy Shelby?”

“Billy Kitchen, one of the Black Country boys.” 

“You’re the reason Charlie’s in such a grumpy mood. Says there's no sport in it anymore, no one bothers him. Just wave at him as he floats by.” 

Adeline released him, watched as he attempted to regain his footing, restore his wounded pride. 

“Seeing as you're a woman, I’ll not raise my hand to you, but you’ll not touch me again.” 

“Learn to knock, Mister Billy Kitchen and I won’t need to teach you manners,” Adeline told him. 

“What is it that had you comin’ in here in the first place? Told everyone I wasn’t to be disturbed, and here you are, mate, here you fucking are disturbing me.” 

Billy crossed his arms. “We have business to discuss.” 

“Oh,” Alfie said, false amusement in his tone and his eyes. “Business is it? Well, then, that’s something else innit? Business, yes. Talk to me about business, Mister Kitchen.” 

Billy’s eyes landed on Adeline. 

“Go on then,” Alfie said, clearly impatient. “Talk to me about business.” 

“In front of her?”

“No, you know what? Just leave, get the fuck out of my office, right, because you bore me, mate. Go on, get out.” 

Billy looked between the two of them, confused and angry. “Tommy’s in town. He’ll know about this.” 

Adeline laughed, it bubbled out of her before she could stop it. “Tell him I said ‘hi’ will you?”

With a final glare, Billy stomped from the room. 

“Real charmer that one,” Adeline said with a smirk as she sat herself on Alfie’s chair. “He’ll come to trust you in time, and won't bother sending little minions to keep an eye on things.”

“Sayin’ he doesn’t trust me, that man of yours?”

Adeline grinned. “‘Course he doesn’t trust you…he’s met you.” 

Alfie laughed. “Right enough, pet. Gonna pour us a drink while you figure out if you’re going to tell me why it is you came down to see me?” 

With a nod, Adeline pulled the good whiskey from the bottom drawer. Pulling the cork with her teeth, she spat it onto the mess of papers on his desk before taking a healthy swig from the bottle. Alfie, she noted, waited patiently for her. His eyes followed her movements, his hand stroked the length of his beard. When he spoke, the words came out loud, brash - almost manic, but he had a stillness to him, as though he had all the time in the world. A stillness he shared with Tommy. While Tommy remained predator still, a giant cat waiting to pounce, muscles coiled tightly, Alfie had the stillness of a sleeping bear. The thought brought a smile to her lips. She’d thought of Alfie as a bear more of then than not over the years, the heat of him, the size of him, the utter immovability of him. 

“I brought you a present,” Adeline finally said as she passed him the bottle.

“Trouble is what you’ve brought me. Nothing but trouble since I met you all those years ago, nothing but trouble to me. Never come down just to say hello do you?” 

“Aw, I’m hurt.” With a dramatic wave of her hand, Adeline rested her palm against her heart. “I bring you a present, an assassin and you choose to be so mean to me. And of course I bring you trouble. Without it, you’d be bored, and Alfie, no one wants to see you bored.” 

Choosing not to respond, Alfie simply rolled his eyes and took a swig from the bottle. 

“Right, what are we going to do about Sabini? I’m tired of this game of his. Sending fucking assassins up north like he’s in any position to be making such grand gestures? No. We end this little affrontary of his now.” 

“Just like that?” Alfie asked. “He takes a shot at your man, yeah, and you get to fucking decide it’s done, is that it?”

“What, do you want me to wait until he sends an assassin after you, too?”

“Thought you wanted to draw this out, pet. Thought it was your great plan, yeah, your plan to use Sabini as a distraction for whatever it is you’re doing with the Irish.” 

“And making you and Tommy a lot of money in the meantime, don’t be forgetting that you skinflint. Fucking Campbell. He’s having me kill someone, some field marshal who probably pissed off the wrong member of Parliament, or fucked the wrong man’s wife. For all his talk about immunity after the face, he probably intends to kill me as soon as I’ve done his dirty work for him. It’s what I would do.” 

“Not like you to keep someone like that alive. What exactly aren’t you telling me about all this business with Campbell and the Irish? Because, see, I’m not a stupid man, and you’re sitting there talking to me like I am.”

“I’m not - ”

Alfie’s glare cut her off. She swallowed thickly. “I don’t mean to be. Too many moving pieces.” 

“So stop, pet. Stop being so bloody clever and just get it done, yeah? Kill the bastards who need killing. There’s always money to be made, right, always money.” 

“I don’t know who pulls Campbell’s strings. He’s clever, the bastard, but he doesn't have the access to know about Arke, and based on our interactions, I’m not sure he knows as much about her as he thinks he does. His arrogance blinds him. But, instead of finding out what I need to, I’m fighting off Sabini’s fucking assassins and dealing with Polly’s bullshit.”

Alfie nodded. “That’s the trouble with family. Remember you told me that once, you did, looked me in the eye, this eye here,” he pointed to his left eye and Adeline chuckled. Remembering the moment well. His right eye had been covered with a patch. “Looked me there and told me family was nothing but trouble, a burden you were happy enough to be without. But you’re stuck with one now, right, stuck with a loud, obnoxious one and they’re going to be there for you to deal with no matter what Campbell or fucking Sabini do.” 

“That’s not exactly helpful.”

“Helpful? Is that what you’re looking for? Help? Thought you had it sorted, yeah? Told me you did. Said you’d figure it all out on your own, that it was your fucking problem to deal with.”

“Campbell is my fucking problem. You more than anyone know why I can’t fucking get them involved in that, no mater how tough they are.” 

Alfie stroked his beard as Adeline screamed. She narrowed her eyes at him, frustrated by his calmness, by his total lack of reaction. It made her feel silly. Stood there, and when exactly she’d stood from the chair, she couldn't identify, but her chest heaved with the strength of her emotions, her blood pounded in her veins and Alfie just fucking sat there calm as could be, stroking his beard, watching her with slightly narrowed eyes. 

“Right, is that it? You finished with your little tantrum, yeah? You bloody well know I’m not talking about Campbell. I understand all too well your caution with him, because he’s a dangerous sort of adversary. Glad to see that some of the lessons I taught you landed because, pet, not all of them did. What’s one thing I told you, right, one thing I told you would be the difference between winning and losing? The one thing and you’re fucking doing it like you know better.” 

Adeline hung her head, tears falling from her eyes. Damn him. Damn them all. This was why family made her weak. The weakness caused her to make foolish decisions, to take on too much on her own because if she remained the only one taking the risk, then somehow that meant everyone else would be safe. It was all a lie of course. No one was safe. 

“None of that, pet,” Alfie soothed, voice soft as he rounded the desk. He knelt on the floor and cupped the side of Adeline’s face, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Tough love is the only way to get through to you sometimes because you’re stubborn, right? The most stubborn woman I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing in me whole life.” 

Adeline’s smile wobbled a bit, but it helped push away some of the pain in her chest. “Aye, you are the most unfortunate Jew I’ve ever known.” 

Alfie pressed a kiss to her forehead. “A misfortune I have the privilege, right, to pray for each bloody day, pet.” 

“Love you too, you bastard.” 

Alfie stood to his feet, leaned against the edge of his desk. 

“What’s your plan for the Italians?” Adeline asked, voice not as steady as she would have liked, but getting there. 

Alfie’s smile slid across his face slowly, eyes bright with amusement. “Did you know that it’s nearly time for Seder, did you know that? ‘Course not, what would a goya like you know about fucking Seders, but it’s nearly time, and you know, you know because I’ve told you about it, right, but we sacrifice a king to make things right with God.”

“Your plan is to sacrifice a king?”

“It is. I’m going to sacrifice King Thomas Shelby.”

Part 15

Master List

Tag List: @stevie75 @mootiemoose​​ @ohshititsfenharel​​ @fairy-witch-bitch @portents​​ @alreadybroken-ts​​ @books-livre @missymurphy1985 @lovemissyhoneybee​ @theshelbyclan​ @highgardenrosexx @dolllol2405

[shysneeze]

Do Me a Favour | Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Description: Fred and the reader’s relationship seen through a series of favours

Warnings: its kind of angsty, brief description of injury (umbridge’s detention related) briefly battle of hogwarts related, miscommunication i guess 

Tag-List : new form is here for anyone interested in being added 

~* Fifth Year *~

“Do me a favour?” 

It’s a question (Y/N) has been practicing internally for at least an hour, yet her voice still wobbles as she asks it aloud. Fred, lying back in the grass, soaking in the late summer sun, peeks open one eye to look up at her with a questioning brow. 

“Yeah?” 

“K-kiss me?” 

A second passes before he reacts, sitting bolt upright in an instant, choking slightly on the gasped breath taken in the process. Regret floods her chest with a mortified ache and she finds herself dropping her eyes to the ground and picking at tufts of grass nervously.

“What?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbles, “It’s stupid.” 

“Kiss you?” He repeats, “L-like on the lips?” 

“I shouldn’t have asked,” She argues embarrassedly, “I was just- I haven’t- it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at her, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. Confused is probably the only word he can come up with to explain the whole thing, because quite frankly, it’s not everyday your childhood best friend asks you to kiss them. Then, much to (Y/N)’s further mortification, realisation flickers across his face.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?” 

He asks it like he’s surprised, something that only goes to confuse (Y/N) herself. Yet she nods, too obviously embarrassed to even attempt to play it off as some elaborate joke or simply fib her way out of it. 

“Really?” Fred asks, “And you want me to be your first kiss?” 

“I just want it out the way,” She explains hastily, “Don’t go getting big headed about it… it’s just a favour.” 

He’s silent, the most silent she’s ever heard him before even, and it does nothing but add to her growing concern that in one fell swoop, she’s managed to ruin sixteen years of friendship. She’s on the verge of what is bound to be an incoherent string of apologies when he finally answers. 

“Okay.” 

Her breath catches with something between relief and sheer panic. 

“Really?” 

“What sort of friend would I be if I denied you such a simple favour?” 

‘Simple’ is perhaps an underestimation of what she’s asking, and she can see the nervous way he licks his lips despite the grin he throws on instantly to disguise it. She’s gotten this far though, too far to chicken out now with his warm hand cupping one of her cheeks as he leans closer. 

The sun has brought out millions of freckles across his pale cheeks, and for the first time she’s so close she could count them. Part of her, a side of her she’s never met before, thinks about tracing her finger across them, connecting them like constellations. Something in her chest twitches at the thought. 

“You ready?” 

“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” She mumbles. 

“Listen, beggars can’t be choosers.” 

She smiles, glad for the familiarity of his teasing. It has some of her nerves dissipating, her lungs expanding with a light, freeing breath before she nods.

He’s tentative for only a moment, their lips meeting in the lightest of kisses until she’s instinctively pulling him closer, fingers curled around a handful of his gryffindor tie. He lets out a surprised sound from deep in his throat, though he doesn’t pull back. 

In fact, if he knew kissing his best friend might feel this good, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions before doing so in the first place. At the feeling of her grip slipping from his tie, he feels his heart dropping disappointedly, chasing her lips subconsciously as she pulls back. 

He watches her contemplative expression, a good distraction from the racing of his heart in his chest and the unexplainable urge to kiss her again. She gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes darting in every direction as she navigates whatever millions of questions are running around her head. 

Then, she clears her throat, nodding as she begins to get to her feet and leaving him dazed on the grass with reddening cheeks. 

“Thanks,” She says, “I owe you one.” 

~ *Sixth Year* ~ 

“(Y/N),” Fred exclaims happily, portrait door swinging shut behind him as (Y/N) looks up from her book to meet him with a frown, “Just who I was looking for,” 

“That’s never good,” She says, slowly closing her book, “When am I busting you out of detention this time?”

“You wound me,” He retorts before dropping onto the couch beside her with, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead with a dramatic flair, “Me? Detention?” 

His head lands haphazardly on her lap and she looks down at him with an amused look, shaking her head in teasing disbelief. His lips twitch into a grin, one that (Y/N) knows is just the beginning of what she doubts will be a simple request. 

“Do me a favour?”

For a split second, she freezes, a slight shiver crawling up her back at the question, which little under a year ago saw them kissing by the lake. He holds her eyes in a knowing gaze that causes her to nod cautiously.

“Okay…”

“Come to the ball with me?” 

Her brows lift into a surprised expression.

“What?” 

“The Yule Ball,” He explains, sitting up now to face her properly, “I need a date.”

She gives him a long, questioning, look, searching for some tell-tale signs of a Fred Weasley joke in the makings. Sceptically, she narrows her eyes. 

“Why?”

“You owe me one.” 

She bristles imperceptibly, gulping at the knowing look that swims in eyes and twitches the corners of his lips into a small smirk. 

“That and I left it all a bit last minute, you see,” 

She can’t quite decide whether it’s hurt or relief that tugs at her chest at the revelation, that he’s only asking as a last resort. It’s a much more simple version of the scenario she’s been building in her head since he first asked his question, one with far less feelings to get more attached to.

“What if I’ve already said yes to someone else?” 

“Well, I have it on good authority that you’ve been turning people down for weeks now,” He raises a brow, “What’s that about? Holding onto hope of being asked by someone special?” 

The teasing tone he’s going for comes out strained in a way (Y/N) has never heard from him before and she frowns for a second at it before rolling her eyes. 

“No, I’m not,” She answers, “I just didn’t feel like going with them.” 

“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a date?” He says, “And neither do I… how convenient.” 

She lets out a short scoff, shaking her head in disbelief at the pleading puppy-dog look he’s managed to perfect in just a few seconds. She exhales a loud reluctant sigh that has the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.

“Is that a yes?” 

“Hmm,” She nods, “I guess,” 

“How romantic.” 

“Ah well, as a wise boy once said, beggars can’t be choosers.” She manages a smirk of her own, “Perhaps next time you’ll find yourself a date sooner than a week before the dance.” 

Something in Fred’s face drops for only a split second, and not even their years of friendship helps her read it. It’s only a moment before he’s disguising it again with a lopsided grin and a playful shove.

“Shut up,”

~* Seventh Year *~

Fred’s finger tips are warm as they trace the red-raw words scratched into the back of (Y/N)’s hand, lookin from it up to her eyes with a look she knows means a lecture. She sniffles slightly, twisting away from him to plan her counter argument. 

“Before you say anything,” She starts, “Your hand is just as bad so don’t start on my detentions.” 

“I wasn’t going... “ He sighs, “Well, I was, but you’re right. I’m just trying to figure out how to get the pink hag back for it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid... I’m fine.”

Fred let’s put a disagreeing grumble.

“Fred,” She says warningly. 

“I know,” He breathes out reluctantly, “I just worry when it’s you.”

She turns back to face him, hoping to catch whatever expression has followed such a revelation, but she’s too late, finding him instead twisting away from her to search through his bedside table drawer. He returns with a small jar of healing balm, what she’d come to his dorm for in the first place, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself.

“What happened this time?” 

“I missed curfew again,” (Y/N) mumbles, hissing in a breath when the balm touches the open wound, “I was at the library trying to teach myself the bloody defence course since she won’t- ouch.” 

“Done,” He assures with a soft smile, “Wuss.” 

“It’s not that when you’re the injured one,” She teases, though she’s not feeling quite up to it, “I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last year.” 

“I know.”

She’s not sure what’s causing the tears that have welled in her eyes though, certainly not from the sting of the healing balm or even the general pain from the scar itself. Yet she can’t help the tears that have begun to fall from her lashes and slip down her cheeks.

“Hey-” Fred looks up, brown eyes wide in surprise, “What’s going on?” 

“Sorry,” (Y/N) hiccups, wiping her eyes hastily, “I don’t know why i’m crying.”

“Take your time,” Fred says, rubbing soothingly at her back, “It’s okay,”

“It’s all just a bit much isn’t it.” She manages after a moment, “Newts are hard enough but now w-we’ve got this absolute psychopath of a defence teacher who doesn’t actually teach, we’re training to fight deatheaters and- it’s just a bit much.”

“I know what you mean,” He admits solemnly, “It’s pretty messed up.”

“Sorry, it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “Everyones going through the same thing-” 

“Don’t do that.” He frowns, “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be upset about it, (Y/N).”

“I know but-” 

She hears him click his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly, and she can picture him rolling his eyes though she doesn’t have time to see for herself, not with his arm around her shoulder as he curls her into his chest. 

She freezes, as if this is something bizarre, as if they’ve not shared hugs a million times growing up. This is protective though, like in his arms, for even just a moment, he’s protecting her from everything wrong in the world. 

“Fred?” She sniffles against his chest, “Do me a favour?”

“Anything, (Y/N).”

“Just- just hold me for a bit.”

His breath catches, heat blossoming in his chest as he pulls her closer, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion. 

“Of course.”

~* Post-Hogwarts*~

“Do me a favour?”

(Y/N), seconds from falling asleep, fit perfectly between Fred and the back of the sofa, peers up at him with bleary eyes and soft smile.

“Of course.” She exhales tiredly.

“Be with me.” 

She freezes, replaying it over and over in her head, not entirely sure she’s not dreaming. At her silence, he lets out a sharp noise that sends a jolt of panic into her body, waking her up well and truly. She lets out a choked sound as his arms unravel from her waist and a chill hits her as he begins to pull back. 

“What?” 

“It’s late-” He begins to backtrack.”I’ve got to open up shop tomorro-”

“What did you just say, Fred?” 

He gives her a look that's almost pained. 

“Don’t make me say it again.” He pleads, “Let’s just forget about it-” 

“You… You like me?” 

He lets out a sound close to a pained laugh that lodges itself in his throat as he twists awkwardly away from her. A deep crimson colour has begun to creep up his neck and he pulls nervously at his shirt collar in a meek attempt to combat it. 

“I’ve not been very subtle, (Y/N).” 

“Clearly you have!” (Y/N) bursts, only shrinking with the realisation that, just down the hall, George is sleeping in his room. “Since when?” 

“Since you kissed me,” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Favour bloody one.” 

She stands, suddenly hit by the need to pace, to move around as she deals with all the questions that race through her head. Gulping, Fred watches her move, suddenly afraid that he’s made this favour their last. 

Then, she comes to a stop. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“An idiot,” (Y/N) repeats, “You made me feel like the last resort for the yule ball, but you’re telling me that was serious?” 

“Hey,” He frowns, “It was serious right until you started giving me this look like I was insane and I had to cover my arse somehow-” 

“Shut up,” 

She drops herself onto his lap, cupping his cheeks in her hands and holding his face there, inches from her own. He watches, frozen in awe, as her eyes dance across his face. She’s tracing his freckles again, close enough to be  mesmerised all over again. 

“Since we’re pretty terrible with signals,” She exhales, “When I kiss you now… it’s not just a favour.” 

“Thank Merlin for that.” 

~* The Battle of Hogwarts*~ 

Hogwarts has never felt so different. 

Standing here now, it’s hard for (Y/N) to imagine these are the same hallways they once walked down, that she and Fred used to sneak through in the dark for midnight snacks and linger outside of before teachers arrived.

Tucked into an alcove of the corridor, Fred and (Y/N) watch the havoc unfolding, keenly aware of what lies ahead, the war that’s been looming over them all year. He holds her hand in his own, squeezing it as reassuringly as he can manage as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“It’s going to be okay, right?” 

“Of course, Love,” He smiles, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek, “We’ll be fine.” 

She nods, melting into his warm touch. But nothing eases the weight that has settled on her chest, the anxious feeling that is telling her everything is about to go wrong. She searches his eyes for something familiar to cling onto. 

“I don’t like us not sticking together,” Fred admits quietly, “We should be where we can keep an eye on each other.” 

“I promised Madam Pomfrey I’d help with the injured,” (Y/N) admits sadly, “And you should be with George.” 

“I know,” He breathes, “I just don’t like it,” 

She smiles sadly in agreement. 

“Me either,” She admits, “but I’ll be fine… I’ve always had better defence marks than you anyway,” 

Much to (Y/N)’s relief, Fred laughs, bringing back a sense of normality, even if just for a moment. The hand on her cheeks pinches her playfully and his brown eyes roll with a teasing glint to them. 

“Look at you, joking in a crisis,” He teases, “I’m so proud,” 

“I’ve known you long enough to have picked up some sort of ill-timed sense of humour,” 

He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I love you, (Y/N),” 

“I love you too,” 

He leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, a practiced art that has a well-known warmth flooding (Y/N)’s chest. Yet, as he pulls back, he leaves something bitter sweet behind, the ache of a goodbye kiss. 

“I should go,” He admits, “Before we end up caught up in the crowds, right?”

“Yeah,” 

“I’ll see you once it’s all over,” He grins, “When we’ve won,” 

It takes a moment for (Y/N) to convince herself to let go of his hand and feels suddenly cold once it’s gone. He’s turning away with one last wave when she calls him back, heart hammering in her chest. 

“Do me a favour?” 

He pauses before breaking into a small smile. 

“Always, Love.” 

“Don’t die.”

“I promise.”

[the-modernmary]

when you gonna take me out? || derek morgan x GN!reader

Summary: You and Derek have been flirting pretty heavily for the past few weeks. So when his first time asking you out doesn't go as well as planned, he's determined to get you to say yes.

Warnings: mentions of getting shot, allusions to smut

A/N: Chapter title taken from Aly & AJ's "Take Me Out". This was inspired by a scene from the show community, and also because derek morgan deserves more love

~~~~~~~

“No, no, you see, asking somebody out is an art,” Derek explained to a very frustrated Spencer Reid. “And I think with a little practice, pretty boy, you could become a bit of a player.”

Prentiss, who had been listening to Derek trying to convince Spencer to let him be his wingman for the better part of an hour, scoffed from her desk. “Using a cheesy pickup line is an art now?”

“There is nothing wrong with a line!” Derek argued, leaning back in his desk chair. “It’s a knock at the door. And once they let you in, that’s when you strike.”

Spencer scrunched up his nose at Derek’s phrasing. “I think I’m going to leave the whole player thing to you.”

“Come on, Reid, it’s easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then why don’t you show us?” Prentiss shot.

Right at that moment, Garcia and JJ walked back into the bullpen, coffees in hand. “Show us what?” JJ questioned.

“Derek is trying to teach Reid how to flirt,” Prentiss explained. “But I think he’s just all talk. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Morgan with a significant other.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Hey, I don’t pry into your personal life?”

Garcia put a comforting hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Nobody can resist my chocolate thunder. I mean, look at him. He literally looks like he was sculpted by Michaelangelo.”

“I’m with Emily,” JJ chimed in. “I kind of want to see the Derek Morgan in action.”

Derek’s eyes scanned the bullpen until he landed on you, standing in the kitchen area and making yourself a cup of coffee. You were also a profiler, just on a different team that primarily focused on cold cases. It was no secret that you and Derek Morgan had been flirting pretty heavily the past few weeks — longing glances, pet names, and kisses on cheeks were just the start — and you both had a sneaking suspicion that there was an office pool betting on whether or not the two of you had already hooked up.

“Fine,” Derek said, standing up. “Watch and learn, Pretty Ricky.”

Derek sauntered over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter while reaching for a wooden stirrer. “Let me help you with that,” he offered.

You turned to look at him, a smile on your face. “Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased, but you handed your cup of coffee to him anyways. “I didn’t realize you knew how I take my coffee?”

“You learn a lot about somebody when you can’t take your eyes off them,” he pointed out. “Especially with the way you look right now. I mean, wow. Got a hot date tonight? Because he is one very lucky man.”

You arched an eyebrow in his direction. “Nope, no date.”

“Well, you do now, baby,” Derek grinned. “I’ll pick you up at 8:30.”

You stared at Derek, part amused and part incredulous. “Did you really think that would work?” you asked through a breathy chuckle.

Derek’s confident grin fell slightly as his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Wait, what?” he asked, unable to form any other words.

“Derek Morgan, I expected so much more from you,” you mused, snatching your coffee cup from his hand. “I know you can sweet talk better than that.”

It was Derek’s turn to raise his eyebrows, and he tried his best to ignore the barely-suppressed giggles from his teammates. “So is that a no?” he clarified, not used to the feeling of rejection. Although, it didn’t feel quite like a rejection, especially when you were smiling at him with just a hint of your tongue peaking out from between your teeth.

“It’s a… ‘better luck next time’,” you explained, taking a sip of your coffee.

Derek’s normal, confident grin returned to his face. “You’re saying I can ask you out again?” he clarified, because he did not want to be the guy who didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

You walked backwards to your desk, never taking your eyes off Derek. “Sure. It could be fun. But you’ll have to bring your A-game if you want me to say yes,” you told him, and oh, Derek Morgan loved a good challenge.

Derek walked back to his desk, feeling the stares of his teammates the whole way back.

“Like a knock on the door...” Prentiss quoted back to Derek. “So did you just get the door slammed in your face, or was nobody home?”

Derek scoffed and sat down in his chair, already coming up with all the new ways he could ask you out. He had been wanting to for a while, but the timing was always off. But now…

“Oh no, I’m in,” Derek promised, and his eyes were immediately drawn to you. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. “But I’m playing the long game.”

~~~~~~~

Derek and the rest of his team got pulled into a case shortly after, so you didn’t hear from him for about a week except for the occasional “how is it going?” text. They got back to the BAU in the middle of the day, but instead of heading straight home like the rest of his team, Derek made a beeline to your desk.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss to your temple. “Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

A soft blush rose to your cheeks as you shut the file you were looking at, spinning your chair so that you could face him. “I missed you tons, as always. But you knew that.”

Derek’s eyes trailed up and down your body, and there was a softness to his gaze that you rarely ever saw from him. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Sore eyes?” you questioned. “I don’t know about that. Wasn’t there a meteor shower where you guys were at?”

“Yeah, but no meteor shower can compare to how beautifully your eyes sparkle.”

You tried really, really hard to hold in your laughter. You pressed your lips into a thin line and you bit the insides of your cheeks, but you were only so strong, and even Derek looked like he realized how cheesy and awful that line was.

You broke down into a fit of laughter. “I’m sorry,” you giggled, covering your mouth as you did. “I just — Did you google a top ten best pickup lines list on the plane ride back?”

Derek winced, but nodded in agreement. “That’s fair. Not my best work.”

“No, it was not, Romeo,” you said, patting his cheek. “But we’ll chalk it up to post-case sleep deprivation.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Derek grinned. “When the time comes, you won’t be able to say no.”

You laughed, throwing your head back as you did. “And I am eagerly awaiting that day.”

~~~~~~~

Two days later, Derek all but ambushed you at the elevator. As soon as you stepped out onto the 6th floor, Derek slung his arm around your shoulders, and used his free hand to carry your bag for you.

“Oh, this is exciting,” you mused. You reached your hand up to interlace your fingers with the hand that was draped over your shoulder. “What do you have for me today, baby?”

“I’ve been thinking,” Derek explained. “And you’re a modern, progressive, independent person. I think I’ve been going about this all wrong.”

You nodded in encouragement. He was so close, you just knew it. All he had to do was ask you.

“You don’t want to be dragged down by a bunch of strings. So how about you come over tonight, I’ll put on some mood music, light some candles, and you and I can have one perfect night of pure bliss.”

Or maybe he wasn’t as close as you thought.

“Nope,” you said, moving his arm off of your shoulders. You liked Derek Morgan, but you were not going to be another one of his one night stands. “Not gonna happen.”

“Better or worse than before?” Derek asked, already knowing the answer, and he handed your bag back to you.

“Worse. Much worse.” You paused and turned so that you were facing him. “But I like how forward you were. Keep that up.”

Derek smirked and leaned against the wall, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah? So should I keep those candles just in case?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “With your current track record, baby boy, the only place you’ll be using those candles is in your dreams.”

“You’re already in my dreams, hot stuff,” he promised you. “Every. Single. Night.”

Oh god, that was a very welcome image you would think about forever. You knew that Derek liked you, and you had had your fair share of fantasies involving him in some pretty explicit situations, but him fantasizing about you? It was almost enough to convince you to drag him into the nearest empty room.

Almost. Because if he wanted a chance with you, he was going to have to actually ask you on a date.

Instead, you blew him a kiss and left him with: “And I bet I’m even better than you can imagine.”

Needless to say, the both of you spent the rest of the day incredibly distracted.

~~~~~~~

By that point, pretty everybody on the 6th floor knew what was going on, and they were all invested. More betting pools sprouted up, and even some of the more reserved agents were putting in their two cents, albeit under the guise of disapproval.

That’s why, when a bouquet of flowers appeared on your desk one morning, it was all anybody could talk about as they waited for you to get to work. Even Rossi and Hotch had found an excuse to get themselves out of their offices and into the main part of the bullpen.

“They’re going to say yes today,” Penelope guessed. “They have to. Everybody likes flowers, and this shows the sweet side of my chocolate thunder.”

Prentiss scoffed. “I hope they don’t. I have twenty bucks on at least two more rejections.”

Rossi, who was sitting on the edge of a desk, shook his head. “These are your friends. Don’t you guys feel bad about betting on their love lives?”

“Says the guy who has fifty dollars on ‘they get drunk and leave the bar together’,” Hotch said, not even looking up at the file he was skimming through. Hotch was one of the only ones who hadn’t put money into this whole thing, but he was still very well informed. “You all should really hide the whiteboard the bets are on a little bit better.”

Rossi was about to defend himself when you walked through the glass doors of the BAU. A hush fell over the room and they watched as your smile melted into realization and then nervousness.

You walked over to the bouquet and gingerly took the card, but you didn’t even get to read it when the first sneeze came. Then the next and the next, and pretty soon your eyes were watery, your nose running, and your throat was so scratchy that you sounded like you smoked four packs a day.

You tried to focus on your work, but the constant sneezing and needing to get up to blow your nose was seriously disrupting your productivity. You could barely focus because it felt like a head cold that just wouldn’t go away. Your pollen allergy was something you’d had your whole life, and when they hit, they hit bad.

The flowers were gorgeous and such a sweet gesture, but you didn’t even have the chance to really appreciate them while you could barely breathe through your nose. You were sure you were just a distraction

A hand on your shoulder made you jump, and you whipped around to see Hotch looking down at you with concern. You sighed. “I’m sorry, Agent Hotchner,” you said, your voice nasally. “I usually keep allergy meds in my bag, but it’s not pollen season and I—”

“Go home, agent,” Hotch interrupted you gently. “Get some rest. You can come back tomorrow when you feel better.”

“No, m’fine I just need to—” You cut yourself off this time with another sneeze, and then all you could do was agree with Hotch. “Yeah, I’m gonna go home. Thank you.”

You took the bouquet and walked over to Penelope, handing the glass vase over to her. “Will you please tell Derek that these are beautiful and that I’m so sorry—” You sneezed three times in a row, and by then you were too exhausted to even try talking anymore, so you just groaned and waved goodbye to the rest of Derek’s friends before dragging yourself out of the bullpen.

The next thirty minutes went on as usual, until Derek walked into the bullpen. He had been gone all morning doing a profiling seminar for academy recruits, so he had missed your quick descent into your allergic reaction.

His face fell slightly when he saw your empty desk, and it fell even more when he saw the flowers he had bought sitting on the corner of Prentiss’s desk and his entire team talking amongst themselves.

Derek walked up to them, a frown etched on his face. “Did they not show up for work today?” he asked.

“I sent them home,” Hotch explained, and if Derek didn’t know any better, he could have sworn that he saw the hint of a smirk on the corner of Hotch’s mouth.

Spencer’s smirk, on the other hand, was not even close to being hidden. “Hey Morgan, did you know that pollen allergies affect up to 20 million adults? And sunflowers and flowers in the aster family are considered some of the worst flowers for people who suffer with pollen allergies, since the pollen is so easily dispersed by the wind.”

Realization set in Derek and he cursed under his breath. You had mentioned once in passing that you liked the look of sunflowers, so he had assumed that those were the best flowers to get you. Clearly, he was wrong.

Noticing his dejected look, Garcia quickly interjected. “But they said that they’re beautiful and they looked like they really loved them,” she comforted. “And they wanted me to tell you that they’re sorry.”

Derek shook his head. How did he not know that you were allergic? That seemed like a pretty big thing. “No, they have nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to go wipe down their desk, make sure that it’s clean for them tomorrow.”

The team watched as Derek went over to your desk, taking his time to make sure that there was no flower residue left. They all quickly went back to discussing the bet, changing up their predictions now that they had more evidence to go off of.

Surprisingly, instead of going back to his office, Hotch spoke up. “Morgan isn’t used to being told no. He’s going to break down and beg.”

The team looked at Hotch incredulously. “I’ve never seen Morgan beg for anything,” JJ pointed out, and Hotch just shrugged.

“Well, are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Prentiss pressed.

Hotch sighed and shut the file he was holding. “I try not to make a habit out of betting on my subordinates' love lives.”

Rossi rolled his eyes. “He knows he’s wrong, he just wants to be a contrarian,” he told the team, baiting Hotch.

Hotch narrowed his eyes slightly. If anybody else had said that, he would have been able to walk away, but this was Rossi. So Hotch reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty from his wallet.

“None of this goes on any sort of record.”

~~~~~~~

“Derek Morgan, you got shot?”

You stood up from your desk as soon as you saw Derek and his team walk through the glass doors. It was way after hours, but the news of a shoot out at their last crime scene got back to you, and there was no way you were going to be able to go home knowing that Derek got hurt.

The rest of the team all shared a glance and quickly dispersed, giving you and Derek as much privacy as possible.

Derek made his way over to you, trying to look like he was in less pain than he actually was. “Don’t worry, hot stuff,” he told you, slumping down into his seat. “It just hit my vest.”

You stormed over to where he was sitting, worry evident on your face. “Yeah, I’ve been shot in the vest before!” you reminded him. “It still hurts like hell! What were you thinking?”

Derek forced a smile and held your hand in one of his own. “Baby, I’m okay. Really. I could even show you, if you wanted proof. Then you can stare at my abs without feeling guilty.” He took his free hand and started to lift up his shirt, and you quickly yanked your hand away from his.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, already in the process of storming away from him. “I cannot believe that you are seriously hitting on my right now. You just got shot and you’re asking me out? Agh!”

You started to walk away but Derek caught your hand just in time, laughing as he did. “Okay, don’t go, I’m sorry. I just…” he trailed off, suddenly getting serious. “I just really needed to see your smile.”

You mustered up the best smile you could. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Derek let out a long, audible exhale. “So am I,” he admitted. “I’ve never been more glad to be here doing paperwork.”

You rubbed your hands on the tops of your thighs. “I have some leftover takeout that I had for lunch. How about I heat that up and we can share it while I help you with your work?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll stay. I have nothing else to do.”

Derek grinned and kissed the top of your hand. “You’re too good to me.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Pretty soon, the two of you were hunched over his desk, sharing bites of dinner and chatting easily as you trudged through paperwork.

You quickly learned that he liked to read Kurt Vonnegut and that his eagle tattoo was because of a nickname he had gotten in college. You told him about your fear of the ocean and the time you accidentally set off your high school’s fire sprinkler system during chemistry.

It was nice to be able to just talk to him. It felt like you and him had been friends for years and years, not just the past two months. This Derek Morgan was different from any other version of him, and you loved it. If you didn’t already have the biggest crush on him, this just solidified it. You really, really liked him, and you really, really wanted him to just ask you on a date already.

As the night went on, the two of you had moved closer and closer, until your shoulders bumped and your legs were pressed up against each other. If you both turned your faces to look at each other, your noses would brush. And from there, it would only be a few centimeters until your lips would be on each other…

“Thank you for helping me with this,” he said suddenly, breaking you out of your fantasy. He turned towards you, and you could feel his hot breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “You didn’t have to stay, but… it meant a lot that you did.”

You smiled and tried to control your erratic heartbeat. “It was no problem. I’m happy to do it, anytime. Are you feeling any better?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But do you know what would make me feel even better?”

You finally turned to look at him, and his face was so much closer than you expected. “What is that?” you whispered, unable to force yourself to speak any louder.

Derek’s lips quirked up in a smile and he moved impossibly closer to you. His lips were brushing against yours, and all you had to do was lean in just a little bit. Then he met your eyes, and they really did sparkle, and for the first time in his adult life, Derek lost all of his nerve.

“You could kiss it better,” he suggested. “Because you are much hotter than any of the EMTs at the scene.” Derek grimaced internally, knowing that he came off sounding like an asshole. All he had to do was ask you on a date. It should have been easy. So why couldn’t he?

You closed your eyes and sighed exasperatedly, pulling away. “Wow, fumbled at the five yard line,” you teased, trying to hide your disappointment. You had thought that Derek and you were really having a moment, but maybe he really just didn’t want strings attached.

Derek frowned slightly, but tried to laugh it off. It was the first time that he thought he actually had a chance with you, and he blew it. “Yeah, I guess I did, huh?”

You fought a smile as you stood up out of your chair. “Mhm. But there’s always tomorrow. And since you’ve had such a rough past few days…”

You spun Derek’s chair around so that he was facing you, and you placed your hands on the arms of his chair, leaning over him. The two of you kept eye contact for what felt like ten years, and his cologne was making you dizzy. Slowly, you pressed a lingering kiss right on the corner of his lips. Derek’s breath got caught in his throat as you pulled yourself away, albeit on shaky legs.

“And that’s all the lovin’ you’re getting from me tonight,” you teased.

Derek leaned back in his chair, his hand over his heart in what looked to be a dramatic display of affection. In truth, he was trying to calm his rapid heartbeat however he could. “Oh, light of my life,” he cooed. “That’s more than enough. It’s the only win I’ve gotten all week.”

~~~~~~~

It had been a few days since your night in the office with Derek, and he hadn’t tried anything, which worried you. He wasn’t avoiding you, and the two of you still exchanged pleasantries throughout the day, but he wasn’t flirting with you anymore.

Part of you wondered if you were too harsh with him that night, if you should have just kissed him and gone home with him. But within the past few weeks, your infatuation with Derek Morgan had turned into a full blown crush, as juvenile as it sounded, and you did not want to be another notch in his bedpost. So you were willing to wait it out, to see if you would actually say the words: “Do you want to go out with me?”.

As if you had summoned him, Derek Morgan wheeled his chair over to your desk and put down a coffee cup from your favorite little cafe in front of you.

“Iced vanilla latte with oat milk?”

“You know both of my coffee orders?” you grinned. “I’m impressed.”

“Consider it a bribe,” Derek said, and you raised your eyebrow as a response.

“A bribe?”

“Please go out with me,” Derek asked, trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. “Pretty please. This was fun for a while, but now you are the only thing I think about. I can’t do my job, and I can barely sleep. I feel like I’m going crazy. You are so hot and so smart and so funny. Please let me take you on a date.”

The smile that grew on your face was so big that your cheeks started to hurt. “I’d love that.”

Derek seemed shocked that his attempt actually worked, and he blinked a few times just to make sure he heard you correctly. “Seriously? It’s a yes?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coffee Derek got you. “You finally asked me. Of course I said yes.”

“All I’ve been doing the past few weeks has been asking you,” he pointed out.

You hummed to yourself as you scrunched up your nose. “No. You told me that we were going on a date, asked me to have sex with you twice, and the rest of the times, you just used pick up lines. This is the first time you ever actually asked.”

Derek stared at your wordlessly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to figure out what to say. Finally, he landed on: “That’s all it took?”

“Yup,” you replied, popping the ‘p’. “Although, I do want to hear more about my eyes and the meteor shower.”

Derek let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head as he did. “I will be sure to tell you all about it. And more. I’ll pick you up at 8?”

You were practically beaming as you watched Derek stand back up. “That sounds perfect. Oh, and Derek? I hope you still have those candles out and ready to use.”

“Baby, I never put them away.” Derek winked at you before walking back to his desk. Prentiss was mumbling something about owing Hotch money, but Derek was so high up on cloud 9 that he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“See Reid,” Derek said as he took his seat at his desk. “That’s what we call ‘playing the long game’.”

“Finally,” Spencer grumbled, his nose buried in some book Derek didn’t recognize. “Took you long enough to realize.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed together. “You knew?”

Spencer scoffed, flipping the page of the book he was reading. “I knew from the first time they rejected you.”

Derek leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “Man, why didn’t you tell me?”

Spencer finally looked up from his book, his eyebrow quirked up. “You were ‘playing the long game’,” he quoted in a bad impression of Derek’s voice. “And since I’m running it, I get a cut of the entire betting pool, no matter who won, so it was in my best interest to keep it going as long as possible.”

Derek shook his head in disbelief. “I see. That pretty face of yours is hiding an evil genius.”

Spencer hummed in agreement and went back to his book. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “They want you to take them to that Mediterranean place two blocks down.”

“Okay, there is no way you know that,” Derek groaned, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t have to take my advice, but you should. Clearly, you’re helpless,” Spencer shrugged, and Derek laughed as he threw a crumpled piece of paper at him.

When Derek picked you up that night, he made sure that the flowers he brought you were hypoallergenic, and the Mediterranean place ended up being the right choice, not that he would ever admit that to Spencer.

And he did, for the record, make sure to set out those candles he promised, but at the end of the night, the two of you were too busy tearing off each other’s clothes to even bother lighting them.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know it {Chapter 15}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta looked in the mirror and figured she looked decent enough. Having not been on an actual date in quite some time, she felt a little off her game, but the dress she had chosen felt better than the others she had tried on.

After admiring the deep, crimson color and the way her breasts looked in the low neckline, Nesta sprayed her hair and slipped on her heels before grabbing her clutch and walking down the stairs.

Nyx was in the living room, bouncing up and down in his exersaucer. When he saw Nesta, he grinned.

“Hi, sweet boy,” she said, leaning down to kiss the top of his head and hoping her lipstick hadn’t rubbed off. “Cassian?”

“Kitchen!”

“I’m heading out,” Nesta said, leaning back up.

He was a room away, in the kitchen, making the gods knew what for their dinner. Nyx always ate whatever she made for him, but it was typically a challenge. Earlier in the week, Cass had started deviating from his generic meals for Nyx of jarred baby food and puffs. It seemed like it didn’t matter what the man fed him, Nyx adored it.

She made her way into the other room and stood behind a chair at the kitchen table and cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t be home too late,” she said, drumming her fingers along the wood.

Cass glanced back at her and his eyebrows rose. “You sure? You look pretty nice for shouldn’t be home too late.”

Blushing, she said, “We’re just going to dinner.”

He turned back to the stove, where he was sautéing some broccoli and carrots, but she caught the smirk on his face. “I doubt dinner will be the only thing he wants to eat.”

A knock from the front door halted whatever her response was going to be.

For a moment, neither of them moved, then Cassian blinked. “Are you going to get that or should I?”

Nesta huffed as she made her way back through the house and opened the front door.

Balthazar was there, that glorious smile plastered on his handsome face. His brown eyes went wide in appreciation. “Wow. You look incredible.”

Nesta looked down at her dress before saying, “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself.”

“Thanks-.”

“Alright, don’t keep her out too late and make sure she doesn’t drink too much.” Nesta spun around to find Cassian leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. “She’s not a pretty drunk.”

She widened her eyes at him, not sure if he was joking or not. The glimmer in his eyes said yes, but she couldn’t be sure.

Balthazar narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze trailing down Cassian’s arms. “Are you Illyrian?”

Nesta swore she felt the tension in the room thicken at the three words.

“I am,” Cassian said, and she wondered if the flexing of his arms was intentional or not. “So I’d be real careful what the next words out of your mouth are.”

Balthazar smirked and unbuttoned one of his shirt sleeves, rolling it up to reveal—

Illyrian markings.

Cassian’s brows shot up and Nesta looked back and forth between the two of them.

“You’re from Illyria?” Nesta asked, once it was clear that Cassian wouldn’t say a thing.

“I am,” Balthazar said. “Grew up in the mountains. Moved here nearly a decade ago, but my parents still live there. I go there a couple of times a year.”

Cassian whistled before Nesta could say anything. “The mountains are beautiful. My mom used to take me up there for a getaway when I was younger.”

“Ah, yeah, I love it there,” Balthazar said. “I’d love to move back someday.”

Nesta cleared her throat, awkwardly. “I hate to break up this bonding moment, but we do have dinner reservations.”

“Right, of course,” Balthazar said, nodding. He stepped back, letting Nesta by. “If you’re ready, we can go.”

“Cass, have a good night,” she said, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

“Yeah, y’all, have fun,” he said, smirking at her as he closed the door behind them.

Balthazar walked Nesta to his car, opening her door for her and heading to his own side, climbing behind the driver seat. They rode in silence for a second before Balthazar said, “I’m glad you said yes.”

Nesta, despite herself, blushed as she looked over at him across the car. “I am, too.”

*

Cassian hadn’t been lying when he told Nesta he wanted her to go out with the doctor. If she had a boyfriend, he’d be less likely to think about sleeping with her again.

But he hadn’t expected to see another Illyrian at the front door. There would have been no way he could’ve known, since Nyx had only had to go to the doctor once while they’d had him, but surely Rhys would have mentioned that his son’s doctor was Illyrian at least once. There weren’t many Illyrians in Velaris, most of them choosing to stay in Illyria, to the north.

He hated that Balthazar was a nice guy.

A great guy.

A damn Illyrian.

While Nesta was gone, Cassian tried to keep his mind off of her on her date. And yet, it’s all he could think about, which was ridiculous. Nesta deserved to be happy, deserved to have fun.

And Cassian wasn’t complaining. He loved hanging out with Nyx, loved doing all the things that uncles did. And yet, Cassian felt off.

Everything was better when Nesta was around.

Nyx whimpered and Cassian seemed to understand as he lifted his nephew out of his bouncy seat and cradled him in his arms.

“Aunt Nesta will be home soon,” he crooned, bouncing Nyx.

The baby still looked around, looking for her.

For the first couple months after the accident, Nyx had constantly looked around, constantly searched for Rhys and Feyre. But recently, he hadn’t been looking around much anymore, and when he was it was for one of them.

Silently, Cassian had hoped it didn’t mean he was forgetting about Rhys and Feyre.

He sighed, carrying him to the kitchen. “Uncle Cass wants some ice cream, how does that sound?”

He clapped once and Cassian chuckled. He got a big bowl, with two spoons and settled back on the couch, Nyx next to him.

Nyx’s bites were much smaller, and Cassian tried his best not to laugh when his eyebrows bunched together, a little brain freeze hitting him unexpectedly. After he’d had a few bites, Cassian set him down on the carpet, letting him crawl over to where his toys sat on the floor.

“When are you gonna walk, dude?” He asked, watching as he banged two plastic blocks against each other.

Nyx had mastered pulling himself up right before he turned one. Yet for whatever reason, he still hasn’t taken his first steps. He and Nesta talked about it a lot, and they’d discussed whether it was something they should ask his doctor about.

He supposed Nesta could do so tonight if she was so inclined.

“It’s about time for bed, you know,” Cassian said, watching as Nyx threw his toys across the living room. “For you and me. Once you go to sleep, I’ll be right behind you.”

Nyx made a noise that nearly made Cassian laugh out loud.

“Exactly,” Cassian went on. “So, let’s get you in your pajamas, then Uncle Cassian is going to relax for a while.”

Nyx didn’t protest as Cassian carried him upstairs and started to get him ready for bed. Cassian gave Nyx a bath and got him into his pajamas before he laid him in his crib. After patting his belly, Cassian went back downstairs and laid on the couch.

He laid in silence for ten minutes before deciding that Nyx was sound asleep and nothing would wake him.

Now, all he could think about was Nesta’s date.

He didn’t let himself think about why that was.

*

Nesta wasn’t sure she had laughed this hard in months. She was actually fairly sure she hadn’t.

Not since before the accident.

“Wait, wait,” she said, using her napkin to dab underneath her eyes, having laughed so hard that tears slipped out. “There were how many people there?”

“At least two thousand at the game and way, way more watching on TV,” Balthazar replied, cringing, reliving the time he’d accidentally been pantsed during a championship baseball game in college.

And had left nothing to the imagination.

Nesta was laughing again, but took a sip of her wine and shook her head. She was having an amazing time. The conversation was coming easily, the food was delicious, and Bal had made a spectacular wine choice.

He reached across the table and took her hand. “I’m having a good time,” she admitted, surprising herself.

He brushed a thumb over her knuckles and smiled. “I am, too.”

Nesta looked down where their hands met. His hands were interesting. Softer than she expected, but strong. Not rough, at all, like Cassian’s were.

Her eyes snapped up to Bal’s.

She wasn’t going to think about Cassian.

“You know, I hear they have amazing desserts here,” Nesta went on, keeping her hand in his.

“I hear the same,” Balthazar said. “In fact, I may have ordered us a sample board while you were in the ladies’ room.”

Nesta raised a brow. “Is that so?”

Balthazar nodded with a grin. “I figured why only taste one when you can taste them all?”

Nesta laughed, quietly. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Just as dessert came, Balthazar ordered another bottle of wine, and Nesta was blown away. Once again, she knew that doctors made good money, but it was surely the most extravagant date she had ever been on.

Having already eaten the cheesecake and the pavlova, Nesta scooped up a bite of chocolate cake and moaned. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she sighed, delighted.

When she opened her eyes, Balthazar was watching her, intently.

Nesta’s cheeks turned pink.

If she would have been asked to sleep with Balthazar a week before, she would have surely said yes. But now? Even with that look in his eye, she hesitated. He was handsome. Sexy, even, and she was certain that underneath his suit he was built like a Greek god. He was charming. He was kind. He was a perfect gentleman.

On paper, he was complete and utter perfection in every single way.

A part of her — a bigger part of her than she liked to admit — however, couldn’t shake the pleasure she had received only nights before by someone who was very much not the man sitting across the table from her now.

“I’m stuffed,” Nesta said, at last, draining what was left in her wine glass.

“Happily stuffed or in pain stuffed?” Balthazar asked, his voice a little quieter, that look in his eye remaining.

Nesta chuckled, softly. “Oh, happily, for sure.”

“Good,” Balthazar replied, and waved to the server for their check.

They were back in his car within fifteen minutes, and Balthazar reached across the middle console to take Nesta’s hand.

She let him.

“I have to confess,” Balthazar began, his voice just above the soft radio, “that I don’t want this night to end.”

“Does that mean that you’re taking me out again?” Nesta asked, looking over at him.

He smiled, not taking his eyes off the road. “Does that mean you’re saying yes to another date?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” she replied, tracing the line of his long fingers with her free hand. She quietly admitted, “Though, I won’t have another free Saturday for a couple of weeks.”

“That’s okay.” He pulled their joined hands across the console and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. “I can wait.”

His lips were warm against her skin, and he had just a bit of stubble on his face, enough to tickle, not to scratch. She swallowed roughly, wondering again what he would be like as a lover. From what she knew of him, she was almost sure that he would be sure, slow and calculated. Everything he’d do would be to ensure her pleasure, which she certainly wouldn’t be opposed to, but…

She wasn’t sure if that’s what she wanted anymore, not when she knew how amazing it could be to be with someone who was completely unleashed, who was frenzied as he tried to bring her to release, and—

Balthazar said something and Nesta was completely lost in her thoughts. She cleared her throat, grateful he couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks as she said, “I’m sorry, I was out of it for a moment.”

He chuckled quietly. “It’s okay. I asked if you might want to see a movie one night this week, if you had any free nights?”

Nesta thought about it for a moment. “I’m free on Thursday.”

“Thursday,” he repeated, and nodded. “Alright. Thursday. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Perfect,” Nesta said, smiling as Balthazar pulled into her driveway.

He parked, got out, opened Nesta’s door, and walked her up to the front door. “Until Thursday, then.”

“Until Thursday,” she promised. He leaned forward and kissed her, softly.

It was a quick kiss, but it was nice.

They said their goodbyes then Nesta was opening the door, making her way inside.

The house was quiet, as she expected it to be at a quarter till eleven. After slipping off her shoes and setting her clutch near the door, Nesta was tiptoeing through the house, only stopping when she caught sight of Cassian sprawled across the couch.

She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed as she looked at him. He had one of Nyx’s stuffed animals clutched in his hand, halfway behind his head almost as if he was using it as a pillow. One of his legs hung off the side of the couch, his foot pressed flat against the floor, and Nesta couldn’t help the quiet chuckle as she stood there, looking at him. He looked so peaceful while he was asleep, his face relaxed and almost boyish like this. It was so at odds with the smirking mischief she usually saw there. She wondered if this is what he would have looked like if she would have asked him to stay in her bed the other night. Shaking her head, Nesta quickly banished the thought, not wanting to detract from the almost perfect date she’d just had.

Glancing around the living room, she noticed that it was an absolute wreck. Toys were strewn everywhere, as if they’d been thrown as far as Nyx’s little hands could manage them, and a completely melted, but mostly empty bowl of ice cream sat on the coffee table. Unable to stop the quiet chuckle, she silently picked up Nyx’s toys, putting them back in the basket where they belonged. She also scooped up the remains of the bowl of ice cream and carried it into the kitchen.

She turned the water on a low stream and was rinsing out the bowl when she heard a sleepy voice behind her.

“You’re home early.”

The rasp in his voice made her knees weak.

She looked over her shoulder to find Cassian leaning against the doorframe, his eyelids half fallen, one hand scratching the back of his neck.

Nesta chuckled. “Early? Must not be too early if you’re drooling all over the couch cushions.”

Cassian huffed a laugh as he came up behind her. “You don’t have to do that. I was planning on cleaning it.”

“No big deal,” she said, placing it in the dishwasher. “I’m pretty awake, thought I’d take care of a few things anyway.”

Cassian nodded as he leaned back against the island. “So…”

Nesta turned and crossed her arms as she leaned back against the counter. “So.”

“Did you have fun with Doctor Wonderful?” Cassian asked.

“I did,” she said, leaving it at that.

He waited for a moment, but when it was clear that that was all she was going to give him, he asked, “Yet you’re home before midnight and are wide awake enough to clean up after me and the baby?”

Nesta knew what he was asking, what he was insinuating, without voicing the words.

Why didn’t you go home with him?

“It would seem so,” she replied, a hand reaching up okay with the charm dangling from her necklace.

Cassian’s eyes tracked each motion as the charm zipped back and forth along the chain. His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip and he nodded. “Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

She wasn’t sure if she was waiting for him to say something else, but when he abruptly turned and headed for the stairs, she blurted, “How was your night?”

Pausing, Cassian turned back to look at her. He laughed quietly, and said, “My night doesn’t matter, Nes. Just as long as you had fun. Goodnight.”

He didn’t give her a second to reply as he turned the corner and she heard his footsteps thumping up the stairs. A moment later, his door closed.

Nesta spent far too long thinking about his words after he left.

Just as long as you had fun.

Why did such kind, simple words bother her so much?

[palbabor-writes]

yan Shigaraki pt. iii

Also known as: MOMMY KINK 

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only, dubcon, mentions of rape, bondage, drugging, kidnapping, blow jobs, cunniliginus, vaginal fingering, mind break, manipulation, prostate milking, switching, mommy kink, DARK FIC 

Word Count: 9307 

Notes: back y’all. this one focuses on that mommy kink everyone has been requesting, so, uh, come get your juice. 

this fic is dedicated to & beta edited by @kugutsuu​. i am but a humble acolyte at her shrine, so if you wanna see some grade A mommy kink, or more Tomura porn, plz, go read her stuff. it is marvelous.

Part III: MOMMY KINK

part i || part ii  

The shower is grimy. Thankfully, most of the stains are old patches of soap scum or neglected bits of grout. You’d asked Tomura once, to clean it, but he’d just chuckled and shoved you into the glass box, saying he’d think about it, if you’re good. 

It’s a pity you haven’t made it back onto the “good,” list.

It’s been three weeks and although Tomura has kept you close, hardly letting you slip from his sight, binding you when he has to leave the confines of his room, he’s clearly sulking in his lingering annoyance. An annoyance that’s firmly directed at you. 

His touches are less frequent and there’s been a decided lack of that early, awed, wonderment and soft persistences. He used to stroke his fingers down your skin when you slept beside him, careful to let you know that he’s being cautious, not wanting to frighten, or worry you. Now, when he flops beside you, he turns his back, curling up, on his side of the mattress, shouldering off your tentative pets.  

He’s distant and you can’t adjust to it.

You reach for the plain sliver of bar soap and work it into your shivering arms, building suds and foam under your fingers. The shower door is fogging up, thick with the wet heat from the spraying water, but you can make out Tomura’s outline. He’s perched on a low stool, one that he’s placed specifically in the tiled room, so he can keep an eye on you, so he can make sure you don’t try to slither away from him again. 

It’s frustrating, the warring closeness and aloofness he’s giving you, and you grumpily slough off the bubbles of soap, watching as they swirl down the rusted drain. You were going to come back, you justify, wetting your hair and hoping there’s enough shampoo left to give it a proper soak. You only wanted to get your cat. It’s not your fault he’d forgotten him, when he’d drugged you and placed you under his power. Sure, you could have told him about the feline, but you just…

You wanted to do it yourself. 

Since he’s taken you, you don’t get to do a lot of things by yourself anymore and you needed to prove...no...that’s not right. You’d wanted to taste the fresh air that night and yank yourself out from under Tomura’s omnipresent thumb. It’s exhausting, being held like this. You know, in his own twisted way, that Tomura loves you and there’s some answering part of you that’s starting to care for him, too, but those feelings don’t make you any less caged. Besides, you sigh, combing the shampoo into your hair, how could you not find yourself slipping into a ragged dependency?   

How were you possibly supposed to prevent those budding needs? After all, took care of you and he fed you, both physically and sexually. God, you’d never had anyone fuck you like he did. You’re almost certain that he’d been a virgin when he fucked you, that first night, but damn, he’d more than made up for his inexperience with a genuine desire to see you satisfied. 

It’s an odd rush of emotions. 

You feel equal parts guilt and anger pressing at you. You didn’t mean for this to happen and it’s not fair he’s still taking it out on you. Besides, you’d only wanted to get your cat that night. You didn’t have grand plans of escape, or reporting Tomura’s undoubted villain status to the police. No, you would have come back. The most you would have risked was sneaking one quiet night's sleep in your old bed, but you would have slunk back to him in the morning, ready to see his outstretched arms and those lovely, fervid, eyes that flashed so much adoration when they rested upon you.

Yes, it had all gone to plan, that is, until he caught you. 

He hadn’t spoken much, since that night, and you missed those early conversations the two of you shared. You know you’ve perturbed him, angered him, hurt him, and it’s starting to feel like there's nothing you can do about it. 

However, while you were kept under strict watch, your rescued cat, on the other hand, has grown into a regal prince, free to strut about the hideout, often weaving under Tomura’s red shoes. Never, never, ever, would you have thought that you’d be jealous of a cat, of your cat. But you can’t help but bristle at the affection Tomura showers down on your feline, and your cat, that damned smug little thing, lapped it all up, purring and fat, content with his new supremacy.

You suck your teeth at the thought and quickly dash your head under the reassuring spray of the shower. When you turn, you catch sight of Tomura’s outline again and a sudden idea pops into your head. Before your failed rescue mission, Tomura had often luxuriated under your touches, almost vibrating some nights, drunk off the pleasure of your stroking hands. Although he’s been detached, maybe...maybe you could bridge that gap, with the right incentive, of course. 

“Um, Tomura?” you call, curling your arms about your chest, shivering as you step from the misting of warm water. 

He grunts, but that hazy silhouette doesn’t shift, solid and unyielding, despite your soft voice. You bite your lip and step closer, pressing yourself against the slick glass, not ready to give up. 

“Can you come here, please?” you try again, infusing honey and light into your tone, hoping it might convince him to turn. 

“What is it?” Tomura grumbles, but you notice him shift and you smile at your tiny victory. 

“I need you, just for a second, if you...please, Tomura?” you’re trailing your fingers over the frosted dips and imperfections of the shower door and you can tell he’s starting to waver. It’s hard for him to pull away when you whine out his name like that. It’s likely a control thing, but that gasping want, that echo of need is something he’s done his best to encourage, liking that he can make you slip into a gooey, broken, state. 

He stands and pads toward the steaming shower and you bite back a grin, pleased he’s maneuvering into place. Once he’s close, you crack the door open and poke your dripping head out, searching for his eyes. Tomura pauses when he catches sight of you, vermillion iries dark, narrowed and suspicious. 

“What?” he asks again, his lips curling, lifting that jagged scar and revealing a line of straight, white, teeth. 

“Can...can you do me a favor?” you question, dragging your tongue across your lower lip, tugging at the plush skin, silently rejoicing when you catch his eyes lowering, following the motion. 

“Depends,” he snaps, his gaze flashing back to yours. You give a soft huff, disappointed that he’s not bending, at least, not yet. 

“Will you, um, take a shower with me?”

Tomura snorts, looking over your sopping hair. “Don’t be stupid, you’re practically done.”

“What if I want to clean you off?”

“You calling me gross?”

“No,” you stammer, aghast and unsure if he’s joking. “I just...I want to do this, for you. You’ve been so good to me, I want to do something nice for you, too.”

“Liar,” Tomura taunts, but he does step closer, leaning one arm on the brass frame and peering over your half concealed form. 

“I’m not lying. I’d really like to– ”

“Not that. You’re lying about me being good to you. Don’t give me that look, you know it’s true. Should I list it out for you? To prove it. Let’s see, I’ve kidnapped you, fucked you, against your will, until all you can do is drool, begging me to stop, and I’m pretty sure that’s fucking called rape. What else? Oh, I’ve drugged you, tied you up for hours, almost killed your cat, ah, and I’ve been ignoring you, doing my fucking best to make you feel like the ungrateful little slut that you are. That enough? Or should I give you some more?”

You roll your shoulders, agitated. “Tomura, that’s not...I don’t want to talk about that. I want– ”

“You want to pretend again. To put on an act and go about the motions. Wait until I’ve lowered my guard and then you’ll fucking– hey– stop!” Tomura bristles when your wet fingers curl around his dark shirt, yanking him toward you and dangerously close to the wet tiles. His nose wrinkles and he tries to bat you away, hands roughly knocking against your pruned skin. 

“Tomura, please. I’m not...I just want to be close to you. Don’t push me away, I’m sorry. I’ve told you that before and I’ll tell you again. You know I didn’t mean– ”

“Didn’t mean to sneak out of a window? You fucking accidentally woke up and thought, good time to make sure he’s out on a meeting, better make the most of this? Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you (Y/N),” Tomura growls, finally succeeding in shaking himself free, glaring down at your damp, wrinkled, brow. 

Sighing, you sulk back into the warmth of the shower, pouting your lips and shaking  your head, dropping tiny flecks of water across Tomura’s dark shirt and bare feet. “You’re really not going to forgive me, huh? Even if I tell you that I’m sorry, even if I ask for you to let me hold you? 

That’s fucking mean, Tomura. You’re such a jerk. A fucking ass. You’re making me feel like some kind of bitch. Yeah, I didn’t ask for you to fucking kidnap me, but what do you want me to do? 

It’s not my fault that...that I like you. That I like when you’re nice to me, that I like when you make me feel so...so good, and, well, wanted. You can’t...what am I supposed to do? At this rate, I’ll just hate you. So, if that’s what you’re...what...what you’re want...oh.”

You’d turned your face, while you snapped and berated him, so the feeling of his hard, bare chest, and the sucking pressure of his lips startles you. When your face lifts to his, his long fingers wrap under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His red gaze ensnares you and your breath catches, granting him the opportunity to shut the glass door behind him and press you against the slippery tiles. His free hand shifts to the temperature gauge and he rolls the heat down, hissing at the sting of the shifting water. 

“Fine,” he smirks, slotting himself against your curves, letting you feel his rising cock and the sharp planes of his muscles. “I’m here. What is this, so called, nice thing you want to do for me?” 

You laugh at his dripping sarcasm and arch into his arms, pleased when he gifts you a quiet shiver. “Turn around,” you smile, your eyes roving over his exposed figure hungrily. Tomura sucks his teeth, but he does as you ask and you reach beside him, slipping the block of bar soap into your palm. You scoot close and dampen the sharp protrusions of his shoulder blades, slicking them with the lukewarm water before pressing the soap over him. Once you get a decent lather built up, you let your fingers dip into his corded sinews, massaging out the rough patches until he’s groaning, a pleased hum radiating from his chest. 

“Does that feel ok?” you ask, watching him tremble when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. Tomura responds by shifting back, cracking his back as he bows into your touch. You smile and cup some water over him, sloshing away the bubbles. Once his back is clean and gleaming, you rub yourself against him, kissing his neck. 

“What’s your plan?” Tomura sighs, his voice hushed. He cranes his neck and you catch a glimpse of one bright eye, watching you, waiting for your response. 

“Plan?” you ask, confused by his meaning. 

“Yeah, you trying to butter me up? You think this is gonna change my mind? If you do something nice for me, I’ll have to repay you? Let my guard down?”

You click your tongue and pull him to you, urging him to turn around, so you can see him properly. “Stop it,” you tut, raising the soap again and repeating the soft circles and easy massages, liking that he’s starting to duck his head, a light flush seeping over his chest and nose. “I want to do this for you. Call me stupid, but it makes me happy to see you relaxed. There’s something nice about your face and...and how you look at me. Besides, you haven’t looked at me like that...since...since before that night.” 

Tomura glances away at the reminder, breaking the hard stare he’d fixed you with, but he takes a shallow step toward you, letting the tips of your nipples glide over his slippery pectorals. You gasp at the sensation, enjoying the sweet tightening that races along your areola, puckering the buds into stiff peaks. 

“Well? Don’t leave the job half finished. Keep going,” Tomura rasps, his hands cupping your lifted wrist and moving the soap over his sternum, before passing it along his abdomen. Nodding, you gulp and work your way down until you have to kneel, your knees digging into the water logged floor. Your head lines up with his half hardened cock and you eye the velvety flesh ravenously. You chance a peek up at him, but he’s still refusing to meet your eyes, his head turned, scowling darkly at the wet tiles. 

“Tomura,” you begin, releasing the bar of soap, letting the rushing water snag it, carrying it toward the pull of the drain. “Why don’t you let me take care of this for you?”

Above you, his jaw sets and you can hear him grinding his teeth, trying to shrug off that deepening red blush. You’re not quite sure why he’s so affected by this, but you’re not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Your fingers slide up his thighs, nails gently scraping and pressing as you near the apex of his hips, watching him rise under temptation of your proximity. Once you’re grazing along his dark curls, he unconsciously thrusts toward you, a tiny droplet of precum budding out of his slit, gleaming in the light of the bathroom. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” you ask, your heart thumping wildly, unsure where this sudden urge, this need, to have him supplicate himself for you, is coming from. You want him to ask, no, you want him to moan for you as he blushes and pants. Oh, yes. That would look so good on him. “I can help,” you continue, careful to keep your eyes down, not wanting to give yourself away. “It looks...it looks like you need me to take care of you. Just ask me, Tomura. Ask me to..to…”

Tomura’s hand on the back of your head makes you lose your train of thought and you sputter into silence, your eyes lifting to his, waiting. He glares down at you, imperious and chilling. His nostrils flare when you breathe across his leaking tip and his hips shift again, thumping his heavy cock head against your parted lips. 

“Suck,” he commands and immediately, you do your utmost to take him all in, your jaw aching at the familiar weight of him. Tomura groans at the suction and his eyes finally slip closed. You hollow your cheeks and curl your tongue, racing the wet appendage over his thick veins, feeling him pulse and swell. He’s salty and so, so deliciously earthy. Your mind clouds over and all thoughts of making him bend to you fly out the window, content in the happy pleasure of making him spill down your waiting throat. 

******

Later, when you’re both dry and stretched out on his tattered mattress, he turns to you, pressing his face into your arms, sighing happily when you stroke a hand down his hair. It’s been a while, since he’s come to you like this, all contented nuzzles and heavy exhales. Even before your misguided escape, he would rather have you cling to him, than he to you. No, this is a different kind of touch. You curl around him and he begins to slacken in your hold, drifting into the welcoming embrace of sleep. 

As the night passes around you, you revisit those musings you’d had in the shower, when he was doing his best to ignore you as you gently needled him, wanting to hear him ask you for your attention. You’d never thought much on domination, how could you? Half of the time, you were bound or gagged, especially in the early days of your capture. Tomura had always been unrelenting in his control and you hadn’t done much to question his iron backed rule, at least, not until tonight. 

But once you noticed that tight lipped expression and that delightful blush he’d given you? Oh, you wanted something very different from him then. Imagine, you think, a mischievous smirk lifting your lips, just imagine him, gasping and whining, just for you. He’d look so nice, so handsome, like that. 

You’ll have to be cautious and you’ll need to go slow, but fuck, you want to see him beg. Tonight was a good step. You’d slipped back into his good graces and you’d shown that he can trust himself, and you, to let him show you a gentler, more vulnerable side of himself. Now, let’s see if you can get something different from this arrangement. Besides, you reason, if you’re stuck here, you might as well have a little bit of fun. 

******

He’s got you pinned down, his powerful thighs digging into your spread hips, slapping his meaty balls against the wet curve of your ass. His fingers are hovering over your clit, but he’s careful not to touch. He isn’t wanting you to cum, not yet. You can’t breathe when he takes you like this and his lips are close to the hollow of your throat, rising and lowering in time with his jagged thrusts. 

“You’re too quiet tonight,” Tomura rumbles, his tongue dipping out to swipe up some droplets of sweat that have slipped down your chin. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me this is all you can take? I’ve seen you give me more. That’s it, be a good little slut, be my good girl, let me hear you.” 

His thumb slithers to your pulsing bud, slipping under the swollen hood and encouraging that pulpy flesh to throb out, hot and wanting. You gasp and he lifts his head, pressing a rough kiss to the side of your mouth. 

“Almost,” he taunts, positioning his index finger above his thumb, at the top of your clit, trapping it in his hold. The sharp, painfully cloying sensation he sparks makes you arch and his cock slips deeper, the head tapping against that final barrier of your cervix. You hiss at the distant echo of pain and Tomura sighs above you, surging his hips forward and grinding down, scraping his pelvis against yours, watching you tremble around him. 

“You take me so fucking well, (Y/N). Such a pretty little pussy, all wet and open, so flushed and all mine.”

When he tucks back, gliding his length from your weeping cunt, you find your voice and you shiver out a question, hoping, praying, he’ll entertain the idea. “T-Tomura, I...I want to ride you.” 

His brow furrows and he gives you a bewildered look, red eyes flashing over your distant, blissed out, expression. “Huh?”

“I said, I want to r-ride you. I want you on your back so I can...ohh...fuck,” your demand shakes to a halt as he gives you a harsh cant, his cock swelling as your walls flutter around him. 

“What’s wrong with this?” he scoffs, lifting his rubbing fingers and leaving your clit abandoned and aching. You keen at the loss, hips blindly rising, hoping you’ll catch him before he’s too far away. 

“Damn it,” you sulk, missing your target and tilting your chin, meeting his hazy eyes and wrinkling your nose. “There’s nothing wrong with this, I just want you deeper. Fucking you...ah– fucking you, when you’re on your back, will let me take more of you. Come on, just this once? If you don’t like it, I– ”

In the blink of an eye, Tomura wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, slinking under your quivering legs and stretching himself on the sheets. Your fingers scrabble for balance, accidentally scratching down his stomach. He growls at the sudden, trickling, pain but he’s impatient for you to move, so he responds to your unintended hurt by thrusting up, into your heat, leaking some of your copious arousal onto his thighs. 

“This doesn’t feel any different,” he grouses, his eyes glaring up at you before they dodge away, scowling out at his room, already frustrated that he’s given into your request, especially since it’s not looking like he’ll be getting much out of it.  

“Give me a second,” you complain, finally steadying yourself and bracing your knees on the soft mattress. Once you’ve gotten your barings, you rise up, savoring the sting of his thick cock as it’s lifted from you. You roll your hips when you lower yourself and Tomura grunts, minutely curving his back, his lips curling into a pleased grimace. “How’s that?” you ask, preparing to repeat the motion, keeping your legs close and your pussy clenched, exulting in his choked moans. 

“It...it’s ok,” Tomura concedes, a lovely blush beginning to seep over his face. His fingers tremble when they settle on your working hips, urging you to pick up your pace, but you ignore his silent request, circling yourself as you bottom him out, gently teasing him. 

“Awe,” you pout, trailing your hands to him, cupping at his jaw and turning him toward you. His eyes meet yours briefly and he quietly murmurs a few curses, trying to pull his chin from your warm digits. “Just ok?” you continue, letting your legs spread, rutting him into you, squeezing your sopping channel around his length. “I’m hurt. I figured you’d like this. Don’t I feel good? You feel amazing, so fucking hard and oh– Did you like that? Mmm, that felt nice. Tell me what it feels like for you, Tomura. I wanna know.” 

He dips his head back, unable to resist giving you a few sharp thrusts, his hips taking on a mind of their own as he begins to pulse inside you. That blush has bled down his neck and onto his broad chest, sprinkling his skin with a rosy hue. You drag your nails over the redness and he sucks in an unsteady breath, his eyes popping open and fixing you with a dazed stare. 

“Come on,” you taunt, bringing your knees back to the sides of his hips and lifting, rising, until his tip is beginning to slip from your quivering core. He hums at the feeling and the scar on his lip quirks as he gulps down a snarl. “I know, I’ll make a deal with you. Tell me how it feels for you and I’ll give you what you want,” you bargain, jutting your hips back and forth, teasing his swollen cock head until he’s digging bruises into your plush thighs. 

“What...what are you…doing...” Tomura gasps, his head lifting as he attempts to regain some control, his hands gripping you, trying to force you back to him. You click your tongue and lean away, out of his reach. “Don’t be like that. I just want to hear what you think. How can I possibly know if this feels good, if it makes you happy, if you don’t tell me?”

Tomura’s legs curl under you and his head shakes, white hair trailing along his neck, sticking to his damp skin. “I– it...it feels ok, I told you that.”

“Daw, but that’s vague,” you sulk, although you do sink down his straining cock, not quite all the way to his base, but low enough to reward him. Tomura sputters out a hiss when you do and he flops back to the bed, shaking. “Come on Tomura, give me a little more? Please?” you ask, fingers trailing along his stomach, drawing patterns into his slopes and grooves. 

“It feels...warm and it’s wet, so fucking wet, but...it...it hurts...I want more. Give me more. You said you’d take me deeper, not...not...ah– yes...yes…” He’s rasping as you engulf him to his hilt. You use your hands to brace yourself, picking up that cant, spearing him into you and keening when he hits something soft at the front of your pussy. Tomura’s eyes gleam when he notices your trembling and he lifts his legs, planting his feet under you and slamming himself into your undulating cunt. 

Your fingers wander to your clit and you start to roll those heady circles against yourself, oscillating waves of pleasure from your slippery bud. Tomura lets out a long sigh and he shivers as you break, edging yourself along that sharp ledge and falling into the mind numbing ecstasy that waits. As you drip and clench around him, Tomura gives out a weak shout and releases into you, thick bursts of his cum pulsing against your overstimulated and aching walls. 

You fall against him and he clings to you, kissing sloppily at your damp brow. After the heat of your coupling, your skin quickly begins to cool and you burrow into his warmth, careful to keep him tucked inside you, enjoying the softening of his length and the oozing slop that’s leaking from your cunt and onto the sheets. 

“What was that?” Tomura asks, his voice distant, awed.

“What?” you repeat innocently, pleased that these little pushes you’re giving him are working. You like seeing him disheveled and desperate and you want to see more. 

******

 It’s been easier between the two of you, since you’d worked your way back into his trust, but Tomura, being Tomura, still has his darker moments. 

He hasn’t permitted you to leave his room, still bringing you meals and keeping you close, binding you, or locking you in, when he can’t. But the nights are very different. He’s gentle with you again and he likes to duck into your arms, his white head pillowed against your breast. For your part, you’ve done your best to foster those urges, welcoming him and whispering soft words of praise over his bowed head. It’s a quiet lull and you like the shaking kisses he gives you, pleased with your acceptance. 

One evening, however, he comes to you in a blind rage.

Someone’s done something to shake him, to work him into this state, molding him into a walking, talking, callous being of anger and vitriol, but he won’t give you any names, or any particular reason for the sudden wrath. Instead, he opts to shove you down and spread you open, barely slipping his pants over his hips as he tugs his engorged, leaking, cock from the elastic band of his boxers. You’re not prepared for his first thrust and he growls in frustration as he sticks to you, lingering outside of your heat, unable to press forward. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, slicking his tongue over one thumb and lowering it to your clit, frantically rubbing at you, encouraging you to bead some of that glimmering arousal over your lower lips. 

“Tomura...Tomura...wait...I’m...ouch,” you whine, unable to hold still, shrinking from his aggression. “You can’t just shove your dick in me...I’ve gotta– ”

“Shut up,” Tomura grunts, maintaining that rough pressure, pinching at your half risen clit, pulling the hood away and mashing the pad of his thumb over the tiny bud. “I just want to...damn it…why won’t you– This isn’t fucking fair. I thought...I thought you were always ready for me, now? Why bother with you if you can’t give me what I want? Fucking slut, come on. I know you want me. Why won’t you– hey!”

Grateful that he’s neglected to tie you down today, you kick at him, scrabbling away from his belligerent touches. Tomura, displeased, snatches your ankle and tumbles you over, cracking his hand against your newly presented ass, startling a strangled gasp from your lips.

“Stop that,” he scolds, yanking you back and pressing you down, lifting your posterior and running a warm palm down the fleshy curve, soaking in the heat he’s struck from your skin. “I’m going to fuck you, so you might as well get used to that idea. Now, keep still (Y/N).”

“And I told you to hang on,” you grumble, twisting your head around to glower up at him. Shockingly, he pauses, his eyes narrowing as he leans back, lowering his hand to his throbbing length, tugging at himself, relieving some of the pressure that he’s worked up, waiting.  

“Just...what happened? Can’t you at least talk to me, before you try to fuck me inside out? What– ”

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Tomura frowns, already pulling you back to him, prepared to line up with your unprepared cunt and shove his way inside you, ready or not. 

“No, wait. But what if– ”

“But what if?” Tomura mimics, unamused with your continued struggles. “My head hurts and I want to feel you. So, stop arguing with me, stop being such a–”

“If you finish that sentence I swear to fucking God, Tomura, I’ll– ”

“What? You’ll what? What are you gonna do? Huh?”

“Ugh, stop being such an ass, Tomura. It’s not like I pissed you off. How would you like it if I did this shit to you?”

“If you fucked me until I couldn’t think anymore? I’d say thank you and not be so– ”

“So let me do that,” you snap, wriggling out of his grip and flipping yourself around, fingers already reaching for his half clothed thighs and pulling yourself up to him. Tomura freezes underneath your touch and his eyes are wide, whisking over your upturned face. 

“You’ve got this, mmm, backwards,” he grouses, unable to resist bucking into you when one of your palms slips over his dripping cock.

“Do I?” you smile, kissing along his jaw, pausing to suck at his earlobe. He gasps at the sensation and his head butts into you, easing you off of that sensitive skin. “I’ll make it good for you, I promise,” you coo. 

He’s quiet for a time and the only sounds you can hear are the wet squelches of your hand, gliding up and down his succulent cock, squeezing when you reach the tip and working some of that dribbling precum over your fingers. You’re about to posit another question when you hear him, breathy and low, rumbling out his answer to your soft seduction. 

“Fine. What do you want me to do?”

Oh, fuck yes. You bite back your smile and pull yourself from his neck, meeting his eyes and reveling in that sweet blush he’s gifting you. Your hand keeps up a delicious friction, mollifying his ragged needs, and you study his face, debating your next move. He looks frustrated, but there’s something else hiding behind those vermillion eyes, something that’s curious, avid. 

“Let’s see,” you ponder, already feeling intoxicated off of this new sensation, this burgeoning power he’s bestowing you. “Since you were, oh, so impatient earlier, how about you show me just how wet you want me to be?”

Tomura snorts, rolling his eyes. “You could have just said you wanted me to eat you out.”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was my request unclear about that?” you smart, lifting your fingers away from his cock, pausing to wipe his slick lubrication down his pants. Tomura sucks his teeth at that, but lets the impudence slide. “Well?” you question, laying back and cocking your head at him, spreading your legs, granting him a swift peek at your flushing pussy. “You gonna make me wait all day? Oh, and take your pants off. It’s not fair you always get to keep all the layers on.”

“Why the fuck am I letting you do this, again?” Tomura growls, slipping his long legs out of his stained jeans and tossing them on the floor. His shirt follows and, despite his grumbling, he quickly slots himself between your spread thighs, his nose already dipped and sniffing loudly, inhaling the heady aroma of you dampening curls. 

His fingers thread to your dewy folds and he splits your lips apart, gathering some of the gossamer webs along his fingertips. You give him a pleased hum and he sinks his index finger into you, head lifting so he can watch you arch against the intrusion. “Hey, (Y/N),” he smirks, adding a second finger and v-ing the two, stretching you open, “I asked you a question.”

“Because you wanna see what I’ve got planned for you,” you gasp out, lifting yourself onto your elbows, wanting to observe his teasing explorations. 

“Do I? What makes you think that?”

“You can’t help yourself. Besides, I think you like pleasing me. You like when I tell you nice things or when I say you’re doing a good job.”

“Hmph,” Tomura jeers, shaking his head at your assessment, but he doesn’t comment further, content to silently watch as your cunt swallows his fingers. Your arousal soon coats the digits and begins to drip down his palm and onto his wrist. He’s just about to lean forward, to press those rough lips against you when you tut at him.

“Uh-uh,” you scold, lowering one knee and trapping his hand between your thighs, barring him from you. Tomura flashes a displeased expression your way, but humors you, stilling his movement. “Gotta ask,” you inform him, arching one delicate brow at his redding cheeks. 

“Ask? I thought you said you wanted me to make you wet?” Tomura sneers, his red eyes hardening, like flecked rubies in the darkness of his room. 

“Sure did. So, do you think you’ve done a good enough job? Or are you wanting to do more?”

Tomura’s jaw flops open and he fixes you with a sour look. “What?”

“It’s not that difficult, Tomura. I want to know if this is the best you can do?” 

“Of course it’s not. It’s– ”

“Well then,” you interrupt, lifting your knee again and arching yourself toward him. “Show me. Ask me if you can eat me out.” 

“I’m not– I–” His eyes have drifted from yours and that blush is deepening, seeping over his skin, staining him with his flustered want. Oh, this is working too well, you think, tilting your head at his abashed grumbling. 

“Come on, handsome,” you call, trailing your foot along his lean side, watching him quake and gasp. “Do it for me? Just this once?”

Tomura glances back up at you and he clicks his teeth together, trying to muster his wavering desires. “C-can I eat you out?” 

“Oh, baby. That was so fucking good, thank you. Go on, you earned it.”

In seconds, Tomura’s beet red face is buried between your thighs. His lips latch onto your clit and he starts to suckle at the budding flesh, his saliva leaching from his lips. The warmth of him makes you shiver and your fingers sink into his silvery hair, threading along the strands and scritching at his scalp. His caresses are sloppy and he hunches himself closer, lapping and slurping at you, groaning when you flutter around his imbedded fingers. 

As you’re indulging yourself, whispering soft encouragement over his bowed head, you notice one of his hands drifting toward his straining cock, his fingers twitching as they grasp at the bulbous head, eager to work out some of that simmering pressure. “Stop that!” you snap, startling him, making him lose his grip on you. 

You curl your digits into his hair, yanking him up, straining his neck as you demand his full attention. His eyes are narrowed and gleaming, ire written all over his slicked face. 

“What the f-fuck?” he growls, tongue lapping at the residual threads of your arousal, trying to work steel into his voice.

“I said you could eat me out, not that you could touch yourself,” you retort, tugging at his hair until he’s moaning, his hips unconsciously humping against the bed. “Oh, you like that? Well that doesn’t work at all. Get on your knees.”

“What? I thought that– ”

“Get on your fucking knees, Tomura.”

“Stop telling me what to do you fucking– ah– God.” Your fingers release his hair and before he can stumble out another snarl you’re shoving him back, your hand wrapping around his cock, squeezing and pressing quick jerks over him. 

You let him fall to his back and you loom over him, teeth latching onto his scarred neck, biting and pulling, coaxing a low whine from his throat. Your hand slows and he keeps trying to rut into your palm, his legs trembling as he flounders against the sheets. “You wanna cum? Hmm, do you? You want me to finish you off? Talk to me, Tomura.”

He’s overwrought under your ministrations, his head lowered and his brow furrowed. His eyes keep opening and closing, too disjointed to focus on anything but your touch. He tries to gulp something out, but it’s lost in a smothered groan seconds later. He looks fucking cute, you think, watching him, rutting your hips over his raised knee. Drool starts to fleck out of his mouth and his back bows and arches. He’s practically unhinged, but it’s not enough. He’d never let you get away with not answering a question, so why should he get special treatment?

Your hand slows and he pouts, a long groan leaching from between his clenched teeth. “I asked you a question,” you mime, licking along his cheek, pulling some of that extra saliva he’d frothed out into your waiting mouth. “Do you want me to finish you off? Or should I leave you like this?”

“P-plea...finish me off,” he whispers, his voice rasping. 

“Ooh, was that what I think it was? Baby, did you almost say please? I’d love that so much. Oh fuck, that makes me want to take care of you.” You kiss at his temple and he quakes, his hips rising, trying to force your palm back into that rhythm. 

“I didn’t...I didn’t mean to...just fucking…(Y/N)...” Tomura lets out a reedy whine when you lift your hand from him, letting his cock spring from your grasp, the tip curving toward his stomach, swollen and red. 

“Oh no, you didn’t mean to? That’s not nice, no that’s not fucking nice at all. Especially after I just told you how much I liked that idea.” you lift your sticky fingers to your lips and lick up the last bits of his precum, humming contentedly and lifting your eyes to his. He’s watching you, his eyes hooded and dark. His breaths are coming in low heaves and he’s gritting his teeth, but he hasn’t reached for himself. No, there is a wild look in his eyes and you want to see if you can make it worse.

“Say please and I’ll touch you,” you tell him, your voice lulling, tempting.

He looks away from you and he starts to shake his head, but then you hear him, whisper thin, broken, and oh, so fucking needy, so exquisite. “Please, I-I wanna cum. Touch me, please (Y/N).”

You take him back into your hands, your fingers gentle as they wrap around that velvet skin, careful to build him back up slowly. You rise up on your knees and tilt his chin up, wanting to feel his lips on yours. Tomura sucks in a ragged breath when you tap soft caress to him, his body surging forward, demanding more. You indulge him, letting him slip his rough tongue into your mouth, pressing and dipping until he’s inebriated off the sheer closeness of you. When you pull away he lets out a huff and you stroke a hand down his flushed face. 

“You’re doing so well baby. Do you like it?”

“Y-yes, can...can you g-go faster?” he stammers, his mouth falling open and head tipping back when you acquiesce, picking up speed. He’s starting to sway, his back hunkering forward and backwards, knees spreading, drifting closer and closer to his release. Your thumb traces over his slit and you pull a glistening strand of precum from him, clinging and wet as it dangles across the short distance you’ve created. 

“God, handsome. You’re doing such a good job, I’m so fucking proud of you. I know it’s not easy, but you’re perfect. How does it feel, love? Are you gonna cum for me?”

He moans at your declarations, unable to even gasp the words out, leaning forward and burying his face in your shoulder. His brow is jagged against your smooth skin, but you let him rub himself against you, feeling the heat of his blush and the damp stick of his lips as he tries to catch his breath. 

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll take care of you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Are you ready to cum for me?”

He nods, his head thumping on your neck, another thin strip of drool escaping his open mouth. It trickles down your breast, cooling and prickling your flesh as it passes. You kiss at his lowered brow and he sighs, muttering something that’s too distant for you to hear. 

“Hmm, love? What was that? I can’t hear you,” you tell him, tightening the grip on his slippery cock, feeling those tell-tale flutterings that proceed his release. He’s scalding under your palm and he keeps trying to scoot closer, his hands shaking beside his hips, one of them reaching for you and digging into your side. 

“I-I said...fuck...let me cum, mom...m-mommy, please,” the last two words leave him on a yelp and he pulses in your hand, spurting thick cables of his cum across your lap and his. 

In the lull that follows, Tomura drags you against him, not caring that he’s smearing himself all over you and his chest. He pulls you down and wraps his long arms around you, caging you to him as he regains his breathing. You ignore the wet sticking that he’s rubbing into your lower half and you pull yourself higher, shifting until you can see his face. He’s still flushed and his eyes are clouded, but he lets you kiss at the side of his face. 

A silence stretches over the two of you and you’re unsure what to say. 

You’d liked pushing him and you’d liked how he bent to your demands, but that last comment, that final utterance he’d grunted into your shoulder as he worked himself into a frenzy, well, you’re not sure how you felt about that. Sure, it had made your pussy clench and you’re fairly certain it would only take a quick tweak of your fingers to shatter that burning ache within you, but what exactly have you awakened? Would he even acknowledge it, later after he’s escaped this haze that he’s slipped into? Would he...would he let you do that to him again? 

His drying cum is making your skin pull and you try to shift from his hold, but Tomura keeps clutching you, refusing to budge. 

“I- I just want to clean myself. Can I go to the bathroom? I’ll be– ”

“Don’t go, not yet,” Tomura replies, his tone gravel and forgotten ash. His arms tighten and you chance a quick glance at his turned face, meeting his eyes and absolutely melting. 

His expression is slack and his eyes are wide, with a childlike wonderment, and when you look at him he smiles. “Stay with me?” he asks and you wrap yourself around him, feeling for that familiar beat of his heart as it pulses, steady and strong, under your shaking fingers. 

******

A few days later, Tomura tells you to put on a new, grey, robe and leads you down one of the long walkways, toward one of the closed rooms that sits at the back of the hideout. He opens the door and hot steam pours from the tiled space, bushing against your face and tickling your nose. Inside sits a porcelain, square, ofuro bath. Your eyes lift to his, but he’s not looking at you. Instead, he’s wholly focused on tugging you inside, sliding the door shut and sealing you both in the fresh condensation.

“Leave your robe on that table by the door,” he tells you, already stripping off his dark shirt and lowering his four fingered grip to his belt, clattering the metal under his nails. You shift to obey, carefully folding the soft fabric and waiting for him, shivering against the cool tiles.

Tomura turns to you once he’s finished and regards you silently, his eyes lingering over your face. “Come on,” he rasps, gesturing his head toward the bath. He lets you step in first and once you’ve sunk into the water he wedges himself behind you, hissing against the warmth. Tentatively, you lean your back to his chest and Tomura shifts you over him, slotting his legs alongside your hips. Once you’re both comfortable, you slide your feet to the end of the tub, resting your head close to Tomura’s collarbone, quietly luxuriating in the gentle warmth. 

“So, um, I didn’t even know this room was here. Not that I know a lot about any of the rooms, so I guess that’s a stupid point. Anyway, why did you wanna do this? I mean...I like this, I’m just confused,” you correct, tilting your head up to look at his face. His eyes are closed and his lip is set into a light curve, smirking at your question. 

“Think of it as my way of getting you back for the other night, in the shower,” he rumbles, his voice deep as it reverberates around your ears. 

“Really?” you laugh, trailing your hand over the water, watching the ripples spread and fade. 

“Yeah, haven’t seen you this off balance in weeks,” Tomura teases, resting his chin over your head. 

“Pfft,” you scoff, brushing a bit of water over his chest, “you wish.” 

“I do,” he sighs, bringing his arm down over you, quieting your playful splashes. “I figured you’d like this and you’ve shown me that it’s nice to do things for the people you love.” The mention of the word love makes your heart miss a beat and you try to peek up at his face again, but his chin holds you still. It’s not the first time he’s said it to you. No, he’s said it plenty of times before and in plenty of ways. Sometimes it was a threat, other times it was a calculation, something that was supposed to make you pause, make you second guess yourself, letting a strange, nagging guilt prick along the back of your mind. 

But, there’s something different about this utterance of the endearment.

It’s quiet and it’s spoken with no layering of underlying motives. No, he said it like he...like he meant it, perhaps for the first time. You press back against his slick pectorals and he hums at the weight of you, pleased by your response to his declaration. The water laps at your sides and you snach his arms, wrapping them around you, stroking delicate designs over his wet skin. 

******

“I don’t– I don’t think that’s it,” you pant, your fingers slick. They’re too slippery, really. You can’t get a good grip on him and you keep flicking your eyes up to his, positive he’s gonna to buck you off of him any second.

He’s quiet, his lips set into a white line, but that blush of his, oh, that will never not look nice. When you fumble again he shifts, arching and impatient, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Why would he?

It was his idea after all.

He’d murmured the request when the water cooled about the two of you. But your chill was forgotten as soon as he rasped the words against your ear, tickling your sensitive skin. When you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, his cock began to swell behind you, prodding and curious. 

As you entered his dark bedroom, he didn’t even give you a moment to breathe, lifting you to him, lips biting, sucking, licking you senseless. Once your knees bumped the mattress he urged you to sit, leaving your side to fish something out of a nearby drawer. He tapped the bottle down on the lone side table, nudging it expectantly and fixing you with a grinning leer. 

You’ve never done anything like this, never thought about it, never...no...no, that’s a lie. You have thought about it before and you’ve heard about it, too. I-It was supposed to feel good, right? 

Now, if you could only do this correctly.

You ball your hand into a fist and bite your lip, take a steadying breath and give him another lidded glance, watching him from the curtain of your eyelashes. “Ready?” you ask, rubbing your thumb and index finger together, trying to warm up the glossy lube. 

Tomura doesn’t grace you with a verbal affirmation, instead he simply nods his head, cascading his white hair over his forehead. Alright, you think, scooting closer and lowering one finger to him, reaching for his cock with your opposite hand. You grip him firmly, coiling your digits and admiring the dribble of precum that greets your pump. Tomura lets out a low exhale and arches again, those fervid eyes falling behind his eyelids. 

While you’re pulling and squeezing him, your trembling finger traces a circle around his puckered asshole, teasing at the muscle, giving him time to adjust. Once you’ve dampened him to your satisfaction, you dip into that warmth and gasp, your other hand faltering, accidentally loosening your hold on his straining length. 

You peek up at him, but his head has fallen back and his broad chest is heaving. Again, he’s not protesting, or demanding that you stop, so you keep going. That first ring of muscle is tight, pinching your intruding digit when you try to sink further. As you wait for him to acclimate to the foreign sensation, you focus on his cock, bending your head over him and giving him a long suck. Your tongue swirls around his tip and you lap at the bubbling, salty, precum that floods your mouth. Again, Tomura stretches and shoves his hips forward, encouraging you, wordlessly telling you to keep going. 

His dick slides from your lips with a wet pop and your hand makes up for the loss, jerking moans from his open lips. You twist your opposite wrist and drive your finger in, plunging the last knuckle past that quivering ring. Flexing the digit, you begin to feel around for a bulge, the one that he asked you to stimulate for him.

He said he wanted to know how it felt and, best of all, he wanted you to push him until he begged you to stop.

It’s hot and sleek inside him and you’re worried that you might miss it. After all, it’s not like...wait...what...is that? There’s something protruding and it feels both hard and soft under your finger pad. Unsure, you stroke over it again and Tomura does something wonderful in response.

When you apply the slightest whisper of pressure his legs curl up, bracing his feet against the sheets and he lets out the breathiest whine. His fingers scrabble beside him, slapping and gripping at the bedding until you’re sure he’s about to decay the whole fucking thing and leave you both blinking on the dusty floor. 

“D-did– that feel good?” you query, amazed at the clenching his body is doing. Tomura nods his head, white hair splayed across the mattress and you pause, waiting for him to gather himself back together. 

“Again,” he finally grunts, craning his neck to give you a staggered glare, his eyes cloudy.  

Licking your lips, you give the gland another press and Tomura practically writhes off the bed. He’s groaning and gasping, choking out your name as he works himself closer. His cock pulsates in your hand and a line of milky white cum spurts out. It’s not enough to be a true release, but it makes your mouth go dry. 

Tomura sits up and his eyes immediately ensnare yours, blazing as he looks up at you. “Fucking keep going, don’t stop,” he barks, his voice splintered, hoarse. Keeping your finger close to the swell of his prostate, you shake your head at him. Tomura snarls at your impudence, but when you start to withdraw your finger he quiets, his teeth grinding behind his scowling face. 

“Don’t be an ass,” you challenge, fingers scooping up some of his leaked cum, using it to ease your renewed motions. Tomura buckles at that and his head drops to his chest, shaking out a few unsteady breaths. “If you want me to keep touching you like this, you better ask me nicely.” To emphasize your point, you lightly scrape your nail over that sensitive spot inside him, making him shudder and sigh. 

“Keep going, please,” he spits out. It’s dripping with more false supplication than true politeness, but you’ll take it. Since he reacted so well to that first press, you can’t help but wonder what he’ll do when you circle some modulated pressure around him. Oh, and it’s a perfect reaction. As soon as you complete that first rotation he’s a gooey mess, his bowed head shaking and nodding as he scrapes out your name.    

“Oh handsome,” you sigh, watching as another burst of precum trickles from his slit, coating your hand in a tacky sheen of pearl colored liquid. “You look so good. Being such a good boy and taking me like this. Does it feel good? Do you like it? Talk to me.”

Tomura whimpers when you repeat the oscillation, his voice slipping into a giddy edge, cracking and rising. “Fuck yes. It– it feels– oh fuck– again, again. Do it again. I-I mean...please. Ohhh God, (Y/N)!” 

He’s laughing now, his throat snagging as his moans hit a high pitched garble. “Ah-haha— I know, you liked it when I called you mommy. I saw your fucking face. It looked so pretty. Want me to say it again? Ah– oh, oh. I’ll do it. I’ll do it if you keep– hahaaa— fuck, fuck, fuck– I’ll– m-mommy. Oh, fucking God. Mommy don’t stop! Come here, fucking come here. I don’t care if you’re not rubbing my dick. Come here mommy and let me show you how much I fucking waaant you.”

His hands paw at you and he drags you up, lifting you with a lithe strength that you’ve never seen. Your finger, too slick to withstand the pull, slips from him and he groans at the loss. “I didn’t mean–” you begin, but he silences you with a fevered kiss, his teeth clinking against yours. He drowns out your protestations and swiftly straddles you over him, pressing you down and spearing you onto his messy cock. 

Once he bottoms out, the tip of him pulsing deliciously as he indulges himself in your wet heat, he leans back and gives you a wild grin, his eyes bright. “Fuck, yes. Ride me mommy. Let me show you what a good boy I am.”

notes: (￣▽￣*)ゞ  

tags: @libiraki​ (i’m tagging you cuz imma make you into a tomura fucker if it’s the last thing i do) @spicy-skull​, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @rekoii​, @diaouranask​, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​

[manonblaqkbeak]

Worth It

Hello, I’m back for Day 3, a secret relationship. I’m so happy that you guys liked the first prompt, despite the angst lol. This one here isn’t angsty at all, there’s my usual favoured fluff involved, with some Serious Conversations.

Anyway, enjoy!! :)

1.9k words

cw: none

Aelin's mind was buzzing, torn between happiness and nervousness. That was all she could feel ever since the pregnancy test revealed the positive sign over an hour ago and she had just been staring at it since then, wearing nothing but her underwear and one of her favourite hoodies that she had stolen from Rowan long ago.

She and Rowan had talked about children, but had decided that it would be best to have them once things weren't so...complicated. When Aelin would get another job, because all over Rifthold, secretary positions were being offered, but no positions in Rowan's level were being offered.

Because Rowan was her boss, and she was his secretary. And at Havilliard Accounting Firm, office relationships were off the table. If anyone was found out to be in a relationship, it was straight to the HR office for a scolding and a firing; and that the was the absolute last thing that either of them wanted, and since Rowan was her superior, she feared of what would happen to him. Their relationship was equal, there was no manipulation from either side, both of them wanted the relationship and so they decided to be in one.

So Rowan and Aelin dated in secret, keeping their romantic and personal lives out of their professional lives. Which was hard at times, considering that they lived together, and sometimes it was hard to keep a straight face when an unresolved argument was hovering above them, so they had to repeat to themselves about professionalism and boundaries until it was time to go home and fix what problem they were facing at that time.

Aelin hated it, and so did Rowan. It made them feel dirty, like there was something wrong between them, when that was the furthest thing from the truth. When Aelin had first started on the job, she didn't think that she would be with Rowan—honestly, she thought that he was a bit of a bastard, but she got to know him, and found that they had many things in common, and slowly, so slowly, Aelin started to see Rowan in a different light, and when she looked back at that time, she came to the realisation that Rowan had felt the same, that the look he held in his eyes for her were the same as back then.

And once that shared attraction made its appearance, they had fought their feelings for so long, up until a year and a half ago when they had ran into each other at the State Museum on the weekend, had lunch together at the museum cafe and things just went from there.

They made it work, despite the secrecy of it all. Only a few of their friends knew and they promised to keep it to themselves. Absolutely none of the few Whitethorn cousins that worked in the same building knew, as they were complete busybodies and would tell everyone, not at all caring about the circumstances.

None of Aelin's work friends knew either. All they knew was that she was single and not looking for a relationship, that she was focusing on herself before she made any commitments; Rowan had told his work friends something similar.

At first, the secrecy of it all was exciting, like something straight out of the romance novels she adored, but a year and a half later, when they talked about marriage and Aelin had even told him the type of engagement ring she would like, it was becoming tiresome. Aelin just wanted the whole world to know of her love with Rowan, but so far, that was not to be.

Sighing, she wondered back to the now. She supposed she could say that it was the result of a one night stand, but it felt cruel to reduce Rowan to nothing as if was a stranger she fell into bed with and was nothing but a quick fuck after one too many drinks.

Besides, once she had the baby, it would be obvious who the father was. Silver hair and green eyes were dominate in the Whitethorn family, and the chances of her having a silver-haired, green-eyed child was high—it wouldn't take more than two seconds to figure out who the father was, especially if the child inherited Rowan's tanned skin and straight nose.

If the child inherited Aelin's fair skin, her ocean blue eyes, and button nose, however, it might be easier to come up with some story about how someone in Aelin's family had silver hair.

But Aelin didn't want to lie. Didn't want to pass off their child as someone else's.

According to the test, she was seven weeks along, and she was all ready exhausted.

The jingle of keys had Aelin's head snapping up from her seat in the living room, the pregnancy test heavy in her hand.

It was time to tell him. She had to leave work two hours into the day when she was overcome with nausea, and he had kept it professional when he wished her well, but she spotted in the concern in his eyes as he silently asked her if she was okay. Later on, he had texted her, asking if she needed anything from the shops, but she didn't.

Aelin told him she was fine, but now...now she was nervous. Not at all because of Rowan's reaction, but just because of their damned circumstances.

She had never hated the secrecy more until now.

But Aelin made herself smile as he made his way over to her, kissing her on the forehead and asking if she was okay again, once more asking her if she needed him to get her anything. Taking a deep breath, and telling herself that everything would be okay, she clutched the stick in her hand and told him to sit down. He did, his brows furrowed as he looked at her.

Wordlessly, Aelin handed over the test. Rowan took it from her outstretched hand, his eyes wide as he glanced at her, to the test, and then back to her.

“You're pregnant?” he asked, his voice a breathless rush.

Aelin could only nod.

“Fireheart, that's...” he trailed off, Aelin's heart near bursting out of her chest as she waited for his next words, she knew that they'd be positive, but still. Rowan smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing Aelin had ever witnessed. “This is amazing.”

“It is?” The words fell out of her mouth of their own accord. Clearly, she wasn't listening to herself.

Rowan sensed her unease and took her hands in his own, kissing her knuckles as he did. “I know that we've talked about having children later on, but I couldn't be more happy.”

Nodding, Aelin took a deep breath. She was excited too, despite everything. Which was why she said, without a hint of doubt, “I'll hand in my two week notice once I pass the first trimester.”

“Fireheart, I can't ask you to do that,” Rowan said, clutching her hand. “I'll ask for a transfer, and you can stay until you go on maternity leave, and if you still want to quit afterwards and look for work elsewhere, then I'll help you, but you've worked too hard to quit now.”

“Everyone thinks I'm single, Rowan, and I don't want to come up with a horrid about one night stands. We're all ready lying, and I don't want to add more to the pile.”

“The transfer—” Rowan started, but Aelin cut him off.

“You'll just be in a different building, but the company policies will still stand. I know what you're thinking, that in the future I'll resent you and that I'll blame you for making me quit, but I won't. I'm sick of lying, and I know you are too—it's been a year and a half of lies, and with this child are we going to extend that lie for another eighteen years? What if the child is a carbon copy of you? Then all the lies will blow up in our faces. I know you don't think it is, but this is the best option.” Part of her did want to stay, to utilise her maternity leave, but Rowan could be fussy, especially when she wasn't feeling well and if Rowan started fussing over his pregnant secretary then the questions would start flying.

Rowan sighed and was quiet for a long while. “I'm sorry,” he said eventually, “about the lying. I wish it didn't have to be like this. I wish that you didn't think you had to quit, but I understand why.” Again, he hated the whole expandable aspect of it all—but annoyingly, it made more financial sense for Rowan to stay and for Aelin to leave.

Rowan really did hate it, but Aelin had clearly made up her mind, and would not change her mind, she was stubborn.

“I know, but Rowan, I don't regret being with you, not for a moment. I just want to start this journey on a more joyful road. I love you, to whatever end.”

Rowan smiled softly at her, his worries easing away just a little bit at their words—their promise to each other. “To whatever end. We'll figure it out.”

“We will.” Deciding that she wanted to be wrapped in his arms, Aelin snuggled against him, breathing in his pine and snow scent, she was close to drifting off, when Rowan cleared his throat. Glancing up at him, he had a smile on his face, and an unreadable look in his eyes. “What?”

“I suppose now would be a horrible time to propose?”

Sitting back in a blink of an eye, Aelin crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Rowan Whitethorn, if you propose to me while I'm wearing this shitty old hoodie, I swear to the gods, I will singe off your eyebrows right now.”

“So that's a no?” He asked, his lips twitching, eyes swimming with barely concealed mirth at her. Her own lips wanted to rise in a smile, but she slammed it down.

“It's a no for now. I want to be wearing a nice dress, eating good food—but not in a crowd, you know I hate crowd proposals—with a pretty view—”

“I thought that I was the pretty view?” Rowan interrupted, laughing at the glare Aelin sent his way.

“And I forgot the rest of what I was going to say, but I am not being proposed to on a sofa.”

“Okay, no sofa proposals, I can remember that.”

“Good,” Aelin muttered and returned to his arms. They spoke of their future, of their baby and a list of potential names.

X X X X X X

Rowan proposed six months later at the beach, three months to the day that she had quit, with work being none the wiser, until recently, and they got off scott-free since Aelin was no longer employed there. The sky was a beautiful canvas of pink and peach, the only sounds the crashing of the waves, with no people around.

The ring was the exact one she had picked out long ago—a sparkly emerald with size of her fingernail on a gold band.

And it was exactly as she wished it, her in a nice sundress, with good food and ever-growing pretty views.

Having a secret relationship for a year and a half was exhausting, but well worth it in the end.