#i know he said long but i’m clinging onto the fact he said weeks and not months 🥲

[draconic-desire]

💥 Take My Whiskey Neat 💥

Yandere Boothill x Reader

Again and again, you find a way to escape, and every time ends with you peering down the barrel of a gun.

Warnings: Yandere behaviors, forced relationship and captivity, implied kidnapping, some suggestive content but mostly sfw. Mild spoilers for his background story; I want to write him both as a super attentive and protective guy but also crazy for you???

You’ve become all too familiar with the sensation of a gun being pointed to your forehead.

“Aw, darlin’, why the long face? Took me two whole days to find ya this round! You should be proud’a yerself. I dare say our time together has taught you well,” he concludes with a wink.

Somehow, his praise feels more like a taunt.

That’s because it is. Obviously you never had a chance at escaping from him, a Galaxy Ranger with a bounty on his head worth more than your life a hundred times over. He was born and raised to hunt, to track, to kill. You’re just the unlucky target.

He leans the gun ever so slightly closer to you, mere inches before it can graze your skin, and waits for your response. Although you know he won’t pull the trigger, the sight of the 9 millimeter colt aimed directly between your eyes still sends goose flesh skittering down your arms.

You grit your teeth and pin him with a withering glare. The last thing you’ll relinquish is your pride—you’re not intimidated by him, and it is impressive that you evaded him for so long, relatively speaking. Your other escape attempts lasted mere hours.

Unfortunately, the fact that the Ranger has always traveled alone doesn’t help your chances—especially when lately, his only occupation has been you.

“What, no clap back today? No, ‘fudge you, ya son of a nice lady’ or ‘fork you, shirtbaggin’ bootlicker’? I’ve gotten so used to yer colorful language that I’m almost disappointed!” Boothill tilts the gun and juts his hips, his bullseye gaze locked on your own.

Ignoring the subtle look of longing, of hurt, within their depths is getting harder and harder. He’s superb at hiding it behind jokes and attempted curses, but you know that look. He’s clinging to you after all that’s been taken from him, seeking love after it was destroyed in flames. If only he still held onto his human emotions and didn’t rely on that neuro chip of his; then he’d know that what he’s showing you isn’t love, but obsession.

You wish you had never extended your kindness to him that fateful day, when he’d burst into your home, sparks flying and wires exposed. One of his arms was barely attached, completely torn through with bullet holes. A shootout, he’d said, and he’d caught wind of a handy ‘machine doctor’—a mechanic, you’d corrected him—in town who could fix him right up.

It had taken a full two weeks for you to get him back up and running functionally. Two weeks of evading IPC grunts knocking on your door in search of him, two weeks of tolerating (and fine, maybe even enjoying) his crude jokes, and two weeks of stories over a glass of whiskey, about your hope to one day travel among the stars and his of finding a companion to do so with.

That’s when he’d seemed the most human. Voice tinged with sorrow, yes, but lips curved into a morose smile, eyes looking up at the stars. Reminiscing about when he was still fully human, nothing but a cowboy on a seemingly insignificant planet, surrounded by his adopted parents and siblings, and even that little girl whom he never got to see grow up.

After he’d shared his story, you’d felt the sudden urge to be close to him. Without thinking, you’d brought your hand up to his cheek, wiping an invisible tear despite the fact that he lost his tear ducts long ago.

He’d sucked in a breath and gone deadly still; thinking you misjudged the situation and overstepped a boundary, you’d quickly started to jerk your hand back, only for him to lock it firmly against his face with his metal palm.

His voice, normally loud and clear through the synthesized distortion, had been quiet, low, wavering. “I—please, don’t stop. That feels…nice.”

You were sad to see him go after those two weeks. You honestly expected to never see him again—he was a Galaxy Ranger, after all, the definition of a lone wolf—but to your surprise, his visits didn’t end there. He kept returning again and again, and not just for repairs. Sometimes he’d bring you gifts or tell you stories of his hunt, and you’d cherish those moments when the galaxy felt just a bit less lonely with him.

Then the visits started to increase in their frequency—and intensity. He’d show up while you were working with a client and brazenly threaten them to leave so he could occupy your time instead, or he’d appear on your doorstep in the middle of the night with your favorite bottle of liquor, winking at the sight of your embarrassed form, still in your nightclothes. Your world suddenly seemed to revolve around the gunslinging cyborg.

You’d had to put your foot down—as much as you did enjoy his company, you wouldn’t allow him to interfere with your career. You’d worked hard to gain your skills, and even though you were barely scraping by and living in a tiny, modest home by yourself, you were still proud of what you’d achieved on your own.

His initial reaction was an uncharacteristic and frightening bout of silence, his pupils blown wide, locked onto yours. Just as quickly, his typical smirk returned as he laughed it off. “Just watch out, lil cutie, ‘cause I know you’ll be missin’ me soon.”

Apparently, soon was imminent, immediate. You were pouring yourself a drink after a long week of work when he finally kicked down your door and announced you’d be coming with him.

“I’ve been waiting a long while now to claim you, darlin’.”

“And if I refuse?”

That was the first time you witnessed his gun trained on you.

Now, Boothill drags you along everywhere, hopping from one planet or system to the next, living together as nomads. What you believed to be a serendipitous friendship, he thought was the start of your romance and life together.

It would be thrilling in any other circumstance, treading the path of The Hunt, evading the law, tracking down the IPC members who destroyed his family…except the cyborg transferred that need to protect, to save someone, onto you. You have no choice but to be his now, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you go.

“You just want to hear me curse because you can’t,” you growl. What a stupid argument to be having with a pistol to your head. Yet you can’t help but siphon all of your anger into this dumb little game of cat and mouse, of shark and minnow, of hunter and bird.

He forgets you’re not the only one armed.

You flash him the most vulgar gesture you can make. “Go fuck yourself, Boothill.”

The cowboy throws his head back in a laugh. “Haha! There she is. Wild as a newborn colt.” He grins, flashing those shark teeth you’d groan to loathe. You’ve lost count of the number of puncture marks and scars they’ve littered across your flesh.

That’s something he can’t seem to get enough of—the feel of your warm, organic, human skin against his cold, steel shell.

“Lan shoot me with an arrow, do you ever shut the fuck up?” you grumble, looking up as if the Aeon will give you an answer.

“Think ya already know the answer to that,” he replies, lowering his weapon to sling his opposite arm around your shoulders. The gun hangs languidly from his other hand, as if he’s not the deadliest shot in the galaxy.

His breath brushes your neck as he leans in and nips at your ear. “Now, how ‘bout we take this back home, eh cutie? Two days without you has got me pretty…” His voice drops an octave. “…pent up, if ya know what I mean.”

The tooth marks along your skin flare. Oh, you know all too well.

~*~

Trying to find the solution to your imprisonment at the bottom of a bottle seems like a really clever idea, at least until the room starts spinning.

The empty glass cracks against the wooden table again as brown liquor burns down your throat. What did he call it? Rocket fuel? Damn right, and you’d lost count of the number of shots you’d taken.

Boothill’s normal smirk is contorted into a small frown. “Darlin’, I know it’s been a long couple’a days away for you, but I think we should retire the whiskey for the time being—”

“Shyut up!” you slur, jabbing a finger at the Ranger, your neck still throbbing from all the love bites and hickeys he’d given you. “Thiz is your fault.”

He reaches for the bottle, but you snatch it away and instead start to take pulls directly from it. A deep sigh reverberates behind you as you stand and begin to spin around, hands extended. “Aren’t we celebrating you catching me again? You got what you wanted, you…you mudder…fuuuu…” You sway and just barely catch yourself before you tumble—wait, no, that’s him steadying your shoulders.

“(Y/n).” You blink out of your haze momentarily; only on rare occasions does he use your name and not things like darling or cutie. His face is controlled, mouth tilted downward. “Put the bottle down. I know the feelin’ of wanting to drown in liquor, but it ain’t right.”

“I’m only like this because you took me from my life!”

He bares his teeth, and you know you hit a nerve. “That little shack you called a home? Was that really livin’? All those nights we talked, you said how you wanted grand adventure and risk! To travel and see the stars! To be with me!”

“I didn’t ask for you to put me in a moving cage,” you spit back, trying to shake out of his iron-clad grip. “But you never asked what I wanted, did you?”

“Why’s this all so hard for you to accept?” One hand moves to grab your chin, tilting your face towards his tall form. “It could be just us, ridin’ through the galaxy for all time.” His lips brush lightly against your own, and you feel a tinge of warmth run down your spine. “Just be mine.”

In your drunken stupor, your anger morphs into something else, something more carnal. He wants to be the predator? Well, even the hunted fight back sometimes.

The bottle drops from your hand, shattering against the floor, as you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him fervently, your tongue running along the edges of his pointed canines.

Before he can kiss you back, you pull away, wiping the back of your mouth with your forearm. “That’s what could have been if you hadn’t kidnapped me. If you’d asked me first.” Skipping over the remnants of the whiskey bottle, you flip him the finger over your shoulder as you walk away. “Too bad that’s all you’ll get. Fork you, Boothill.”

As soon as you leave the room, Boothill raises a metal digit to his lips, savoring the sensation of your warm mouth against his. So that’s what your willing kiss feels like. The true passion he knows is hidden deep in your soul, buried beneath the dirt like an unmarked grave. He releases a breathy laugh.

Well fork him sideways, but he wants more.

Taking his hat off, he sets it on the table and moves to pour himself a glass of sherry. He’s nearly positive he’ll find you passed out in bed if he goes to you now, and knows he shouldn’t, can’t be in the same room with you when his self control is so near to breaking. Better to let you sleep it off and tease you about the kiss in the morning.

Boothill kicks his feet up and takes a long sip. So, it turns out your drunken self may actually be harboring some attraction for him. Yeah, he can use that.

“I’ll have you someday,” he whispers, a promise to both you and himself. “Whiskey ain’t the only thing that’ll be on your lips, darlin’.”

[star-sim]

say it back! ☆ jay park

☆ non-idol! bf! jay x fem! reader ☆ summary: jay thinks you're really cute, especially when you're mad. ☆ genre: fluff!! implied college! au / young adult! au , super domestic and cutesy ☆ warning(s)? nope! ☆ word count: 1.1k ☆ after supermassive blackhole i realized just how many jay stans followed me, so eat up guys 😛

It was a Friday evening. The sun was beginning to set, casting a vibrant peach-orange glow over Jay’s apartment.

With a navy-blue apron hanging loosely from his neck, Jay took in the scent of garlic chives and caramelized onions marinating in the pan. With a spatula, he popped in a lump of gochujang, stirring in the hot, red paste.

If Jay had to be honest, he spent most of his time just touching you, his girlfriend. Not in a sexual way. Any physical touch with you was more than enough. Whether it be cuddling on the couch or you clinging onto him while he did things, the intimacy of having skin-on-skin contact was everything.

On days like this, Jay was the one cooking dinner. Not-so-surprising, you were an absolute mess in the kitchen, so he took on that responsibility. You should be home soon. You had taken up an internship a weeks ago, so you had to stay just a tad later than usual.

As Jay immersed himself in the gorgeous aromas of his craft, he thought of what he should do with you later.

He could watch a movie with you, but knowing you, you would probably be all over him. He never expected you to be the clingy, needy type, doing whatever you could to snuggle up against his warm body. Jay’s lips parted before spreading into a gummy grin. He could imagine your voice:

“Baaabe,” you would whine, plopping yourself in between his legs. You would tangle your arms with his, or maybe you'd place his hands in your hair and make him play with it.

If his eyes were glued to the TV for long enough, you would pout, before peppering soft kisses against his neck. Jay would pretend to ignore you, making you whine again. 

“Give me attention,” you would murmur against his ear. 

Oh man, Jay felt giddy and warm inside just thinking about it. 

What he wouldn’t do just to have you come home already—

The door clicked open.

“I’m home!”

Speak of the devil and you will appear.

Jay heard a few footsteps and a giggle before feeling arms slither around his torso. 

“Hi,” you mumbled against his back. 

Jay grinned. “Hi, Angel.”

You peeked over his shoulder, taking in the scent of his cooking. “Smells good.”

“Go wash up, baby,” Jay said. “I’m almost done.”

“Okayyy,” you squeezed his waist. You gave Jay a small peck on the cheek. You drawled, “I love youuuu!”

Jay hummed. 

He heard you huff. 

“I love you,” you repeated.

“Mhm.”

There’s a pulse of silence before you pulled away, leaving him alone.

When you left, he couldn’t help but smile so stupidly. 

You were going to drive him crazy. 

You were so cute, and adorable, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous, and precious, and everything that he loved. He wanted to hold you in his arms forever and kiss you forever and be with you forever and-

How many kids should you and him have? He’d always wanted two boys and a girl, but he wouldn’t mind having more. Later down the line, when you and him got older, he’d buy you a pretty diamond ring— in fact, he’d buy you everything that you’ve ever wanted. And then you and him will get married and buy a house. Would you take his last name? [Name] Park didn’t sound too bad. People would call you Mrs. Park, and instead of calling you by your first name, Jay would refer to you as “my wife,” and—

He was feeling dizzy just thinking about it. Was he getting ahead of himself?

“Are you mad at me?” your voice suddenly said.

Jay jumped. He whipped his head around to see you with your arms crossed and a big, sulky frown.

Were you standing there the whole time?

“B-Babe, I thought you went to the bathroom…”

You shook your head. 

“Are you mad at me?” you repeated. Taking a few steps forward, you turned him around, pressing him up against the kitchen counter while holding his hands together.

“Wait, what?” Jay’s brows knitted together. “Baby, where is this coming from?”

“You…” you began, averting your gaze. “You didn’t say it back.”

Jay cocked his head. “Say what back?”

You huffed. “I said I love you, and you didn’t say it back.”

You tilted your head so that he couldn’t see your pouty face, playing with his fingers. You murmured something under your breath, something that he couldn’t quite hear.

Jay stared at you for a few seconds, processing everything. And then, he threw his head back, loud bouts of laughter emitting from his lips. Every time that he would calm down and look at you, your sulky face would make him burst back into his fit of giggles.

“It’s not funny!” you slapped his shoulder, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment. When he wouldn’t stop laughing, you turned away, punching him on the arm, “You’re a jerk, Jay.”

At that, Jay immediately stopped laughing.

“Wait, I’m sorry!” Jay clasped your hands in his, pulling you close to him so that you were flushed against his chest. 

You frowned. 

“It's too late to apologize,” you mumbled.

Jay almost chuckled at your grumpiness, but stopped himself before you’d be even more upset with him.

You stayed like that for a few moments: Jay holding you close against the kitchen counter, fingers loosely intertwined.

Finally, Jay poked your cheek.

“Hey!”

“Don’t be mad at me, Angel.”

Your frown deepened.

Jay sighed.

Bringing a large hand up, he gently grabbed your face, bringing it closer.

“What are you-”

Jay began littering chaste kisses all across your face– he started at your cheek, moved up to your forehead, down your nose, to your other cheek, and lastly to your chin, where he teased you by kissing just close enough to your lips. He exaggerated by making loud kissy noises to further rile you up.

“Stoooooppp,” you whined, but made no attempt to resist him.

Jay let out a low chuckle. He cupped your cheeks. He ghosted his lips over yours, reveling in the way that you automatically closed your eyes and wet your lips in anticipation. He contemplated whether or not he should pull away to tease you, but decided against it. 

Who was he to deny you?

When your lips met, you let out an excited squeal, squeezing his bicep. When you guys pulled away, Jay breathed against your lips, “I love you.”

“Baby...” you mewled, sliding your hands up his chest to hook around his neck.

“I love you,” he repeated himself, leaning in to give your lips a peck. “I love you so fucking much.”

You giggled softly, your breath brushing against his cheek. “I love you, too.”

[bad268]

Hi so I was just thinking about clingy Kimi after a bad race, like there was some sort of mechanical issue with his car and he gets back to the garage and starts clinging onto reader, just burying his face into reader’s shoulders or neck and doesnt say anything the whole time and when they get home, reader has homework or some other thing to do but Kimi just refuses to let go, idk how to continue but yeah

Not the Time (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Clingy Antonelli Universe

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (I see the vision, hope you don't mind I made it part of Clingy Antonelli Universe)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1129

Summary: At least it was only testing...

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It was only testing. That’s what you tried to tell yourself. It was only testing, but that didn’t make the fact that the car was completely wrong any easier to watch. The first race was within a couple of weeks, and the number of problems was making your hope for a good season dwindle very quickly as Kimi came back into the pits with a smoking car. Mechanics stood by the pit box with fire extinguishers, just in case. 

You had taken to hiding in his driver’s room for the duration of testing because you could only actively watch guys drive in weirdly shaped circles for so long, and there were only so many pictures you could take. Even if you were dating one of them, your tolerance was not that high. You were working on your laptop and casually listening to the F1TV broadcast of the session when they started gasping and talking about how a Mercedes was smoking. That’s what caused you to look up just as the cameras panned to Kimi jumping out of the car and disappearing into the garage. You knew he would be in his driver’s room within seconds, so you muted the TV and set your laptop aside just as Kimi walked through the door.

He stood there momentarily, still in his helmet, before he closed the door and locked it. You stood up to meet him as you helped him take off his racing gear. Even from the little bit you had seen from his car, you could tell he wasn’t getting back in for the rest of the day. You handed him a plain t-shirt and sweatpants and directed him to the ensuite so that he could take a shower. You knew this would make him feel at least a little better. While he was in the shower, you made a quick Instagram post detailing that he’ll be back stronger tomorrow. 

You didn’t know if that was true, but it was the optimistic approach. You would check in with Toto later after Kimi was feeling a bit better. You grabbed your laptop to continue editing some pictures from the day, and about halfway through the SD card, Kimi came back out. His hair was dripping onto his white shirt, but he made no moves to try and dry it. He just walked up to you, moved your laptop, and sat with his legs across your lap with his head on your shoulder.

You knew he wouldn’t want to talk, so you just patted his head before leaning your head against his while you rested your other hand on his legs. You could feel tears falling on your neck every once in a while, and it broke your heart, knowing there was really nothing you could do to make him feel better about this situation. You knew that the best thing you could do was be here for him, and when he was ready to leave, you would find a quick exit.

You waited until you felt his breathing even out before gently reaching to grab your laptop from the table. There was still work to be done, and it wasn’t going to finish itself. You barely lifted your hand from his leg before you felt Kimi shifting around again.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were asleep,” You said in a soft tone, gently turning your had to look at Kimi, who was already looking up at you. “You can go back to sleep. We won’t be able to get out of here any time soon.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” He muttered back as he rubbed his face against your shoulder, closing his eyes again. “Just don’t want you leaving me.”

“I wasn’t trying to leave,” You replied with a light laugh, running your fingers through the curls at the back of his head. “I was grabbing my laptop. I still have pictures to edit for Mercedes.”

“That counts,” He sighed.

“How does that count as leaving?” You chuckled in confusion as you turned your body as much as you could to see him. “I was just trying to get some work done.”

“Your attention wouldn’t be on me,” He said, barely audible. 

“Oh, do you just want attention right now?” You question with a small smile. “You always have my attention, amore (love).”

“Not when you’re working,” He groaned as he turned his body so he was practically in your lap as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. “Can I just stay here for a while?”

“I need to work sometimes, Kimi,” You chuckled again, but when Kimi hid in your shoulder again, you let out a breath and dropped it. “We can stay here as long as you want. We can also sneak out to the hotel somehow. I can get the car or have Toto get someone to bring it around.”

“No, I just wanna stay here,” Kimi sighed again as he melted in your hold. “Just stay here, in your arms, until everyone leaves. I don’t wanna face anyone. Not yet.”

“Okay, we won’t go anywhere, I won’t work, and I’ll be here until you want to talk,” You comforted, running a hand across the span of his back. 

“Can we turn the session off?” Kimi asked as he pulled back a little. “I don’t need to hear what else I could have done to save the session. The engine was on fire! I don’t know what they expected me to do!”

“You pulled off, and that was the only thing you could do,” You reasoned as you turned the session off. You changed it to a random sports game that was playing. “You’re the driver, Kimi. There was only so much you could do, and pulling off the road was the safest way for all of the drivers, including yourself.”

“It doesn’t feel like the right thing to do when they say things like that,” Kimi groaned. “I’m not ready for this. Maybe everyone was right, and I wasn’t ready for F1. It’s not even the racing part I’m contemplating. It’s everything they’re saying about me. Those commentators are brutal.”

“They don’t know you, Kimi,” You pressed as you pulled his face away from your neck to look at him. “They’re just speculating on people they know nothing about, and they’re saying things to stir the pot.”

“It’s hard sometimes,” He muttered, diverting his eyes. “Now’s just not the time.”

“You don’t need to worry about them right now,” You comforted, giving him a brief kiss. “Right now, we’re not focusing on what everyone else is saying. We’re gonna focus on you getting back in the winner mentality. You’ll show them what you can do in due time once you get the car underneath you working.”

~~~

Series masterlist

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[unboundprompts]

hurt/comfort but they're both subborn? Like teasing stubborn and more stricter stubborn,,, /nf!! I'd prefer if the teasing one was the one having a breakdown but just have fun w it man!!! Go wild!!!

Hurt/Comfort (Teasing x Stubborn)

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He was slumped against the wall, arms crossed as he forced a casual smirk, even though his eyes were red-rimmed and tired. "Look at you, all serious. What, worried about me?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She huffed, crossing her own arms and stepping closer. "You’re not fooling me," she said, her voice steady but soft. "You look like you’re about to collapse."

"I’m fine," he insisted, but his voice cracked, betraying him. She just shook her head, closing the distance, and slid her arms around him without asking. For a moment, he went stiff, still holding onto his forced smile. But eventually, with a shuddered breath, he let his weight fall into her, the smirk fading.

---

"I don’t need a lecture," she muttered, forcing a chuckle that sounded hollow even to her own ears. "I’m fine."

"Fine? Sure, because people who are ‘fine’ definitely laugh to cover up that they’re hurting," they countered, their tone as steady as hers was evasive.

She raised her chin, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "Maybe I’m just good at hiding it, then."

"Not from me." They reached out, tugging her close, and even as she tried to keep up the pretense, her resolve cracked. Slowly, she let her head fall to their shoulder, clinging to them as their arms wrapped around her in silence.

---

He let out a weak laugh, rubbing at his eyes. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Clearly," she replied dryly, though there was warmth in her gaze. "You’re really doing a great job."

His mouth quirked up, a forced attempt at humor. "Oh, come on, am I that bad off?"

"You are," she said, her tone softening. She reached for his hand, and this time, he didn’t pull away. "And if you’re so set on acting like you don’t need help, fine—just let me sit here with you, okay?" He finally gave in, squeezing her hand tightly, his teasing fading as he leaned into her support.

---

"Really, you’re fussing for nothing," they said, their voice tense but trying to sound lighthearted. "I’m just having an off day."

"An off day? You look like you haven’t slept in a week," he replied, his voice gentle but firm.

They chuckled, waving him off. "Guess you’re just seeing things."

"Right. And I suppose the fact that you’re about to fall over is all in my head, too?" He stepped closer, holding out his arms, and after a long moment, they sighed, letting him pull them into an embrace. They tried to laugh it off, but their voice wavered, and he just held them tighter, refusing to let them brush it away this time.

[stxrshxpxd]

spring

part one

pairing: 90s professor hugh grant x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: student x teacher, smut

prompt: reader and mr. grant slowly recover from the horror that was the end of last semester, but they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other

requested by several people <3

February.

The first few weeks of the semester I had sat nearly all the way at the back for Mr. Grant’s classes, not said a word in discussions and felt partly relieved he hadn’t addressed me directly. The other part of me wallowed in deep sadness and agony at the fact that we hadn’t exchanged a single word in a month.

He stood at his desk like always in a pale grey button up and his arms crossed over his chest. He let his eyes scan the class and quickly panned over me, to which my heart jumped and I sank down a bit in my seat. I hated that I still had dreams about him every other night and still wanted his hands on me more than ever. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He had actually done everything right. Which made it all worse. There was nothing I could cling onto for a reason to hate him.

Class ended sooner than I had expected and I hurried to gather my things and head towards the door, but Professor Grant stopped me with a soft uttering of my name.

“Would you mind staying back for just a little while?”

Stiff and caught off guard, I nodded and we awkwardly watched the last few students exit.

“I know you knew the answer to the Oscar Wilde question,” he stated gently with a sympathetic look and his head tilted down slightly.

“Okay,” I shrugged stiffly and hugged my books closely to my chest.

“Okay,” he mimicked and sighed.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about what happened last semester. I should absolutely not have let that happen…” His arms were crossed again rather anxiously and his eyes visibly upset. “We have to find a way to work through this though. You’re an absolutely brilliant student, but I’m afraid if you don’t speak in class that’s going to affect your grade.”

I blinked back at him and my gaze rested on his wide shoulders momentarily.

“I understand that.”

March.

It was Thursday and the sun had gone down nearly five hours earlier. I had been sitting in my dorm since the end of the school day with my nose shoved in one book or another, and I felt like I was going insane.

Already after a few minutes’ walk I was feeling better. However, my steps slowed as I wandered past a crowded pub to my left, letting my eyes sorrowfully scan all the little groups of people bathing in the warm light inside, talking and laughing. Sometimes I would get little spurts of confidence and I’d tell myself I could stomp inside a pub alone and get a drink if I wanted. Who the hell would care? But then I never did.

Just as I went to carry on down the street I spotted Professor Grant at the bar, also alone. In shock I watched his long fingers walk along the edge of his pint as he stared down into the half finished beer, wavy locks hanging around his glasses. I guess now I wouldn’t be alone if I were to go in.

“Hey,” I said carefully as I reached him by the bar. He didn’t hear me, so I repeated it louder and made him stare up at me.

“Y/N,” Mr. Grant exhaled and swallowed, almost nervously. His gaze traveled all the way down and up my body as I cautiously sat on the stool beside him.

“What are you doing h-“

“Can I get anything for you, love?” the loud barman interrupted his question with a wide smile beaming at me. I turned him down instantly, saying I was okay for now, anxious to make him go away.

“I’m- I was just on a walk.” I shrugged and looked around the stacked shelves behind the bar. “I’ve been studying all night, and I felt like I was losing my mind… I just saw you, and… thought I’d go in… I don’t know,” I mumbled once the barman was at the other end of the counter again. My professor continued to stare back at me, his pale eyes glassy with intoxication and tongue licking the corner of his mouth. There was a definite air of anxiety coming off him.

I went to ask him something but he quickly jabbed in with a tortured statement before I could get any words out.

“I don’t trust myself to be drunk with you,” he grumbled and shook his head and looked down again, beginning to slide off his bar stool.

“Why?” I asked, knowing why.

I took a good long look at his body while he struggled to find an answer; his broad shoulders clad in a knitted sweater and the few rings on his large hands and his long legs in blue denim. I thought I hadn’t ever seen him in jeans before.

“I’ll see you Monday,” Professor Grant muttered at last and hurried to make his exit, avoiding my eye contact. I was left alone at the bar, defeated and contemplating finishing his beer. Fifteen minutes later I was back in my dorm.

April.

“This is brilliant, Y/N,” Mr. Grant gushed without greeting me. He was holding up my latest essay as he took the last few steps towards me and sat on the edge of the table beside me. It was midday and the library was crowded and struggling to stay silent.

“I mean, really, the connections you make between 19th century and current day society are incredible.”

I smiled at his enthusiasm and my chest simmered with warmth, but I was afraid to answer him. Ever since that night in the pub that was all I could think about when I looked at him. Even in bright daylight it felt like his drunk eyes were looking at me through dim lighting when we spoke. And we had spoken quite a bit lately. Things had somehow gone back to what they used to be, Mr. Grant seeming to have forgotten the memory of the pub night. But it was all obviously a front.

“I have to run, but,” he stood up and leaned in a barely noticeable amount, placing my marked essay in front of me. “This is great stuff. You’re brilliant,” he finished rather lightheartedly and friendly, but his hand squeezed my shoulder gently and it felt like his fingertips lingered when he pulled away and walked off again. I watched his broad back and long legs march out of the library, his brown waves of hair bouncing softly around his head as always. The cloud of his scent dissipated soon and my shoulder molded back into its untouched state, as I began to look through his marks and comments to the sound of my pounding heart.

May.

Towards the end of the year it seemed Professor Grant was getting more and more relaxed in a couple areas. He had stopped blushing and darting his eyes away whenever I caught him looking at me, which was still quite often. Instead he would flex his jaw and take his sweet time looking down while exhaling deeply. I suppose he was getting comfortable with the idea of soon not being my teacher anymore.

I could almost hear his thoughts today as it was the first hot day of the year and I had opted for a skirt that ended at the middle of my thighs and a thin cardigan. He seemed to be hoping that my top button might pop open from his adamant stare which he had resumed now. I was praying for the same thing as my eyes trailed down his buttoned shirt from where I sat just two rows back in the classroom.

Mr. Grant gazed away again, but only for a minute, seemingly pondering something. I tried to force my head back down to continue scribbling notes about Virginia Woolf’s To the Lighthouse, but seconds later Grant cleared his throat.

“I need to go get some books. Um… Y/N, would you mind helping me carry them?”

I snapped my head up and studied the way he was standing now, leaned over his desk with his arms straight and hands pressing into the wooden surface. Maybe my delusions were getting the best of me but I thought that definitely couldn’t have been a random pick of a student. I nodded and slid out of my seat, silently following him while my hands toyed nervously with my necklace.

The hallways were quiet and echoed with our steps as I walked next to my professor, all the while expecting him to say something. He didn’t until we were in the crowded storage room and he began stacking textbooks on my extended arms.

“Do you have any plans for the summer?” Grant asked and simultaneously made a quick grimace to comment on the heat in the tight space we’d found ourselves in.

“Work a bit, see my family… I don’t know… Read.”

“I’ll give you a reading list, don’t worry,” he said and winked. I smiled and prayed he couldn’t see my blushing cheeks in the dusky light. He let a moment pass of silence.

“I expect you’ll have a summer fling or two.”

His tone was lighthearted but investigative. I couldn’t help but scoff with laughter.

“I don’t think any guy has looked my way since starting uni.”

“I’m looking your way right now,” he joked and lowered his head to my level, inching his face closer to mine and locking in eye contact with me with a playful grin. My cheeks burned now.

“I’m looking at your eyes, your hair, your nose, your chin…”

Excitement and nerves bubbled and spilled over inside me, mixed with confusion and slight anger. He had spent so long fighting our chemistry and attraction and keeping me at an arm's length. Now all of a sudden he was charmingly playing around with me in a dark storage room. I couldn’t figure him out and it drove me mad.

“Especially looking at your arms,” Mr. Grant laughed sympathetically and looked down at my embrace of the huge stack of books. “Very strong arms.” His fingers touched my tensed bicep and all my feelings of anger left in an instant. We silently made eye contact for a few long seconds as his hand stayed put and the playful smile faded from his lips.

“Don’t stress. No boys here are good enough for you anyway.”

I couldn’t tell who was leaning in but somehow his face neared mine and I watched him close his eyes. I did the same and then I felt his lips softly against mine. There was so much more time to cherish our kiss this time around. No one was pulling away for a good long while, me still convulsively hugging the textbooks to my chest with aching arms. Soon, though, Professor Grant grabbed a hold of a bunch of them and tried to help me place them on the empty shelf space behind me while not breaking the kiss. They all slipped and crashed to the floor instead with a loud noise that echoed quickly around the room, making us both jump and laugh and stop kissing for a second. But he hurried back to me and firmly pressed me against the uncomfortably uneven surface behind me, his fingers clawing into my sides.

“Professor,” I breathed with a whimper into his desperate kisses as a sharp shelf corner dug into my back. He answered with a deep hum and I felt his smirk grow.

“I love it when you call me that,” he breathed back, his hands having found my bare skin under my cardigan. My heart was making my rib cage rattle as his teeth softly trapped my bottom lip and his hand cupped the underside of my breast. I couldn’t help but let a small moan out.

“And that’s a lovely sound, darling, do it again,” he whispered eagerly, his lips now below my ear sucking a harsh mark into my thin skin. I continued to whine and moan as I tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his belted trousers and impatiently tearing the first few buttons open. He quickly took over and his skilled fingers rid his body of the shirt within seconds.

“Wait,” I breathed and pushed him off of me but kept him within reach. I had to take a good look at his body when I had finally gotten him topless. The thick stripes of light from the small windows coated his softly defined stomach and his chest heaved with his sharp breaths.

“Oh my god,” I muttered, tormented by his beauty, and my hands roamed down his shoulders and arms and to his narrow waist and hips. Beginning to fall back into his space, I kissed his collarbones. Mr. Grant smiled smugly at my surrender to his body but he protested and held me back.

“I want to see you too.”

I allowed him to hold me back and mindfully open the buttons down my front as I tried to control my breathing. His eyes fell on my nearly exposed breasts as he pushed my sleeves, along with my bra straps down my shoulders.

“You’re even more gorgeous than I imagined,” he mumbled and my insides fluttered at the thought of him imagining me naked.

“Have you been imagining undressing me, professor?” I taunted, wanting to hear him say it. He unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor between us and nodded with his eyes intensely staring into mine.

“Couldn’t get the image out of my head of your body on mine.”

He leaned down and I felt his lips lock around my nipple and his hair tickle my bare skin.

“Your tight pussy around my cock,” he added in a low whisper and I whimpered again at the thought, and the sudden feeling of his large hand coating my damp underwear under my skirt.

“Fuck,” I exhaled onto his brown locks at him rubbing circles around my clit.

“Do I make you this wet, hm?” Mr. Grant asked and began kneeling in front of me, looking up into my eyes again. I shoved my hands into his soft hair and nodded.

“Yes, professor.”

He lifted my skirt up and connected his lips with my wet underwear, leaving precious kisses and listening closely to my whimpers. They only grew louder when his finger hooked into my pants and pulled them to the side, hurrying to reattach his lips and tongue.

“God, that feels so good,” I whined and combed my fingers through his fluffy hair, tightening my fist around the roots and making him groan at the slight pain.

“Yeah?” Professor Grant spurred me on. “Do you want my cock inside you, darling?”

“Yes, please.”

Him coming back up to kiss me again, I tasted myself on his lips. I couldn’t ponder on that for too long though as his body was pressed against me again and I felt his hard on between my thighs. Instantly I rushed to get his belt off.

His breaths hit my face sharply as his clothing dropped to the floor and he ran his tip along my wetness, making me moan in desperation.

Holding one of my already weak legs up to his hip, he pushed most of his length inside me and smiled darkly at the loud whimper that poured out of me in response.

“I know, I know, my love,” Mr. Grant muttered reassuringly, capturing the side of my head in his large palm and kissing my lips sweetly as he thrusted deeper.

“You’re doing so well, taking me so deep.”

I couldn’t think of any words to say back. My mind was a haze and my body a trembling mess as his hips slammed against mine at a faster pace now.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed into my ear and I continued to pant and moan into his. “Do you want to come on my cock, hm?”

He had begun rubbing my clit with his thumb. I couldn’t believe how good he was making me feel and all I could do was nod and cling onto his sturdy shoulders.

“Yes, yes, yes!” I whined and breathed into his neck and he kissed mine back. He sank his teeth into my skin slightly and the pain instantly pushed me over my edge, making my thighs shake and body twitch as he continued to stretch me out with deep thrusts.

“That’s it… So good for me,” Grant breathed and groaned at the feeling of me clenching around him. “Fuck!”

Just as his pounding was beginning to make me ache, he pulled out quickly and I watched in complete awe as he came over my chest and stomach. A string of moans and curses ripped from his throat, soon to be replaced by only his heavy breathing.

He caught the drops running down my breasts and belly with his fingers and thumb and for a second he was unsure where to go from there, at which I grabbed his wrist and guided his hand up to my mouth. I sucked his sticky fingers clean as I stared at his bright eyes and blushing cheeks, and his smirk grew again.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N,” Mr. Grant sighed with a slanted smile and he pulled his trousers up again. I blushed and bent down to get my cardigan off the floor. When I came back up he gave me another kiss, long and sweet and with his hand softly on my lower back.

“I’m afraid I might not be as strong after that,” I mumbled and we both chuckled breathily as we stared at the messy pile of books around our feet.

Mr. Grant gazed away and rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes hopping between notebooks and binders on the shelf to his left. I wasn’t sure if he felt regret or guilt or embarrassment. But he looked back at me after a moment and gave me a soft smile.

“Come on then,” he sighed with a chuckle and covered his beautiful back and arms with his shirt again before reaching for the textbooks.

[littlemourningstarr]

Once Lost, Twice Found

The Fade should have kept Roth for eternity. So to be home, after weeks of imprisonment- to see the man he had fallen for over the past few months laid emotionally bare in front of him- it was a chance he couldn't waste. A moment he couldn't lose.

Pairing: Lucanis x transmasc Rook

Read it below or on AO3!

Tags: transmasc rook, spite is there too can't forget him, i thought i'd lost you sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, they're making love let's be real

Roth’s body felt as if it weighed twice what it should, as he collapsed onto the couch that had become his bed, over the past months, within the lighthouse. Eyes closed, for a single moment he let himself drift outside his body, wanting the weight gone, simply wanting to cease. The Fade had left him shaken, in  away, down to his very bones- but he’d kept himself in check, when the team had pulled him free.

“I cannot believe we found you.”

Roth’s eyes opened as he lifted himself up to sit, legs draped over the side of the couch. Over the back he watched as Lucanis seemed to materialize from the shadows themselves, and gods, he had said he’d be waiting for him, hadn’t he?

Roth should know that whatever Lucanis said, he meant.

“I’m a little surprised too, honestly.” Roth’s voice was slow, pulled rough from his chest, which was going tight watching Lucani step ever closer. Ribs caving in, piercing heart, lungs, skewering everything that ever was and would be him. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, tried to keep himself calm, offering a little playful smile- the same brat look he had given Lucanis countless times. A silent dare, even if for what, Roth hadn’t known for so long.

Lucanis stared at him for a moment, dark eyes seeming so open, as he offered, voice with a hint of a tremor, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Roth hated that he echoed the same fear- that he should have been worrying about the world, about the gods- and yet the fact that he might never see Lucanis again, that he might dissipate into nothingness within the Fade without saying the thousands of words that fluttered in his chest- it could have eaten him alive.

“Oh come on,” he offered, trying to tease. “We both know you couldn’t get rid of me that easily.” Roth glanced away for a moment, trying to keep his composure- he wasn’t sure if he wanted to scream or sob or laugh until the sun burnt out. He just felt too many things. He glanced back, as Lucani moved again, those eyes still locked on him, as if Roth was treasure and prey, all at once.

As if he was a true god.

“I wouldn’t miss the chance to come back and annoy you one last time,” Roth added, his own voice wavering. He wasn’t fooling himself, not anymore.

Lucanis settled down on his knees, staring up at the elven veil jumper, before the smallest smile crossed his face. “Roth.” He reached up, cradled Roth’s cheek, fingertips finding the scars that ran over brow and cheekbone. The hands of an assassin shouldn’t feel that soft, and yet Roth was sure no one had ever touched him as tenderly as Lucanis was, in that moment.

Lucanis leaned up, so close Roth could smell his cologne, the never subtle hint of coffee clinging to him- something warm that made his belly flutter. Lucanis’s fingers flexed, holding his face still, and Roth reached up himself, got his fingers in his hair as the assassin pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was brief, but so sweet, a bursting of sun kissed petals that made Roth dizzy, had him giving the faintest little broken noise.

“You’re impossible,” Lucanis whispered, easing back enough that he could see Roth, lock eyes with him. He was smiling, smiling- the real kind that lit up his blackfire eyes.

“But in a good way?” Roth asked, and the sheer affection that was visible on Lucanis’s face made his heart nearly burst.

“It’s what I love about you.”

Lucanis leaned back up, eased Roth down onto his back. The assassin crawled over him, pressed tight to his body as he kissed him again, tender still but far more searching, guiding Roth’s lips as a burst of warmth and pulsing light suddenly enveloped them.

His wings. Spite’s wings. The demon, just as happy as Lucanis, to have their little rogue back.

Roth got his arms around Lucanis’s shoulders, clutched at the back of his shirt, felt unable to do much aside from following the rhythm his lips set. It had never been like this, before- not even with the relationships that bordered something more than lust. He’d always had a comeback, he’d always pushed until barriers were broken-

But with Lucanis, he felt broken. Shattered. And whatever was left, whatever the crow found- it seemed he liked it.

Roth arched up, hands sliding down Lucanis’s back. This felt like the most contact he’d had with his lover- except perhaps the time in Weisshaupt, where Roth had been soaked through to the bone and Lucanis had held him, buried under blankets. It had been innocent, but Roth’s blood had pounded like a waterfall the entire time- torn between wanting to melt into the man and wanting to warm himself on his bare skin.

Lucanis had seen a lot of his scars, that night. Heard the stories and simply toyed with Roth’s hair, as if it was perfectly normal to hold your comrade in front of fire beneath blankets, trying to warm him from the snow sodden mess he had been- as if this intimacy wasn’t what it promised to be.

But Lucanis was slow, and Roth had to admit, the anticipation, it had been worth it. Every step, every smile, every moment he’d wished the man would let go of trepidation and pin him to a wall, ravish his mouth and just admit that he wanted as badly as Roth did. He wouldn’t change a second of it.

Roth felt a hand, at his waist, pushing at his shirt, was Lucanis’s tongue flicked his lips, traced the seam, begged to be let in. Roth let him, sighed into the kiss, as the assassin’s hand got under his shirt, grasped the soft flesh at his waist, the layer of fat that Roth never seemed to lose. Roth tried to pull at Lucanis’s vest, his shirt, wanting to feel him, just him.

The crow pulled from Roth’s mouth, pushed himself up onto his knees, so he was stadling the elf. Roth watched, lips parted, as Lucanis stripped of his vest, his shirt, revealed tanned skin, little scars, the dusting of dark hair at his chest. Roth swallowed, thickly, got his hands on Lucanis’s thighs and squeezed. When his thumbs dug into the firm muscle there, Lucanis shivered, tipped his head back a little.

Roth arched up, stomach tensing as his muscles held him firm, so he could press his mouth to the hollow of Lucanis’s ribs. Gods his skin was warm, fucking perfectly soft, made Roth ache down in his core.

The crow took a steadying breath, as Roth skated his lips over a very old scar, nothing but the faintest line now- before his hands were at Roth’s shirt, working it open.

Roth shrugged it down his shoulders, before he was guided back down, onto his back. Lucanis bowed over him, pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck, then up, finding the center of his throat as Roth tipped his head back, bared it for him. He felt a crackle again, in the air- and the wings were back, encasing them both, as Lucanis pressed the points of his teeth into Roth’s skin- not breaking but making him ache, making Roth gasp.

He didn’t need to see Lucanis’s eyes to know that had been Spite, for just a moment. Nor did he have any desire to push the demon away.

It was Lucanis, a moment later, who soothed the ache with his tongue, before kissing his way down to Roth’s collarbone, then along his exposed chest. His beard tickled a little, and Roth found he was grinning, over it. Such a little thing.

Such a feeling, to be alive.

The assassin paused, after a kiss to the center of Roth’s chest. “Is this alright?” he asked, and Roth managed a nod, squirming slightly beneath him his pressing weight. Gods, he could get very used to feeling Lucanis’s weight on top of him.

“Yeah,” he whispered, as Lucanis turned, pressed an overly soft kiss to one nipple. One hand was finishing the work of properly opening Roth’s shirt, pushing it off his waist so it pooled at his sides. “I don’t feel much there though.” Lucanis paused, before a warm chuckle reverberated from him, his breath warm against Roth’s skin. “What?”

“Spite thinks he can change that,” Lucanis admitted, glancing up at Roth. “I told him to behave himself.”

“He can behave,” the elf whispered, “but I seriously hope you won’t.”

Lucanis groaned, the sound ending in an almost growl, like he was a beast. “You would make that nearly impossible.” He pressed his mouth back to Roth’s chest, kissed down over one scar beneath his pec, before he continued down his belly- over his navel, to the waist of his pants.

This time when Lucanis pushed himself up again, he kept himself hyper focused on removing Roth’s clothes. He was shockingly gentle, guiding his boots off his feet, as Roth finally managed to properly shed his shirt, losing it to the floor. Lucanis’s fingers moved to his pants, working them open, knuckles pressing against Roth’s groin, through his underwear, as he eased the pants down his hips. Roth arched them up, rolling them slightly, and watched the way Lucanis’s pupils seemed to burst over the silent promise.

He bowed back over Roth, nuzzled against the skin of his inner thigh, his beard tickling again. Roth gave a breathy laugh, and Lucanis glanced up his body, quirking a brow- a silent what obvious.

“Your beard,” Roth admitted, hands grasping at the cushion beneath him. “It tickles is all.”

Lucanis huffed- but Roth felt that he was smiling, as he kissed again, moving closer to the still clothed juncture of his thighs. A moment later his mouth was pressed tight to Roth’s clothed cunt, tongue running up the fabric and making the elf swear there was a fire raging in his gut.

“Hn,” Roth managed, hips rolling up, “okay, okay, I’m sorry I- mentioned…it…” He trailed off, Lucanis’s hands grasping his thighs, fingers indenting the skin, his tongue pushing at Roth’s tongue like he could tear the damn fabric of his underwear with his tongue and teeth. Gods, what an idea.

“No you’re not.” Lucanis lifted his head, and Roth could only offer his bratty little smile.

“Well, no.”

“Brat.” He placed a gentle kiss to Roth’s lower belly, before he shifted again, grasping Roth’s underwear and pulling them down his thighs- more than happy to lift the man’s legs up so he could get them to his ankles and then lose them in the abyss of the room. When he eased Roth’s legs down, spread them, Roth had a single moment of almost feeling bashful, for being completely naked under Lucanis’s eyes. For the first time. Ever.

He was flushed, along his cheeks, over the bridge of his nose- even along his neck. Flush from wanting and from being so damn exposed to eyes that were devouring him, taking in the thatch of mahogany curls at his groin that matches his choppy hair, the fact that Roth was notably wet, his enlarged clit already hard and poking out from his cunt.

Lucanis knew Roth was trans- he’d known that night in Weisshaupt, when he had talked about his scars with the crow. Yet there was a moment, a single break of a second, where Roth was nervous about being seen, like this.

He hadn’t felt that in so long- and maybe it was because he liked Lucanis- wanted to see the world reborn with him, wanted to see where this went, when the so called gods were dead and they had a moment to breathe.

But Lucanis, his crow, kissed the crook of his knee, before fully letting Roth’s legs rest on the couch, as he crawled over him, bent enough to peck his lips affectionately, sweetly.

“You,” he whispered, the word punctured with a kiss, “are,” another. “The most.”

One more, this time lingering.

“Handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

Roth surged up then, arms around Lucanis’s neck, grasping desperately at his back, kissing him as if a dam had burst inside him. All of the affection and love and desire and sheer want that he had harbored, starting the moment Lucanis had first graced his presence, all graceful movements and those demonic wings, death on the breath of the wind.

Lucanis kissed him back, just as fervently- and Roth nearly whined when the assassin pulled off his mouth. But a hand splayed on Roth’s chest kept him down on his back, as Lucanis slid back down his body, hands rubbing along his thighs, encouraging Roth to lift one, drape his leg over his shoulder, his heel pressing into the middle of Lucanis’s back.

Roth felt Lucanis’s breath, ghosted against his cunt, and then his tongue, sweeping up along his slit, pushing his lips open to get a proper taste. Roth tipped his head back, and the groan Lucanis gave was feral, beastly.

“Mierda,” he grunted, before his tongue was back, lapping up Roth’s entire cunt again, before his lips closed around his clit. He suckled gently, and Roth bucked his hips, gasped, hands grasping desperately at the couch beneath him.

Lucanis’s tongue rolled along his clit, as he sucked. Roth could hear the way he was grinding down into the couch, hips unable to be still, little moans and grunts leaving him as he tried to devour the elf.

Roth got one hand down, into Lucanis’s hair, gripping tightly but tenderly, feeling like he might fall off the edge of the world- like the Lighthouse was dissolving, and the Fade was swallowing him up again, as quickly as it had spit him out.

It’d be alright, this time. He wouldn’t be alone.

“Lu-canis,” he breathed, smiling, hips rocking up as the crow pulled back, panting. He was gone for but a moment before he was back, greedily devouring Roth, making the elf’s belly so tight, warm tingles spanning out to his fingers, his toes, into the cracks of his spine.

Gods he was close. He tugged at Lucanis’s hair gently, meaning to ease him off- but the assassin only pushed closer, his tongue easing down and pushing into Roth, leaving the rogue gasping, shoulders digging into the couch.

“Lucanis- I’ll- you have to…” He bit his lip, worrying it as the crow pulled back, glanced up with the blackest of eyes.

“Let me show you heaven, tesoro.” He bowed his head back, tongue finding Roth’s clit, flicking along the underside, and any argument the rogue had died on his tongue. He moaned, tipped his head back, each wave of pleasure firmer, rougher, until he was pushing his cunt against Lucanis’s mouth, crying out his name as his orgasm took him. His entire body radiated warmth in a way it hadn’t, in so long. Or ever.

He honestly wasn’t sure anyone’s mouth had made him come that way, ever.

Lucanis drank him down like a starving shell of a man, making Roth see starbursts behind his eyes. He forced them open, panting heavily, whimpered out the crow’s name as Lucanis finally lifted his head again, lips glistening as he panted lightly. He looked all the demon he had been rumored to be, even before Spite- a fire in those eyes that had Roth wanting to cling to him, melt for him, be anything for him.

Lucanis crawled back up his lover, and Roth cupped the back of his head, pulled him down for a kiss before the assassin could make the decision for him. Tasting himself was mind numbing, had him rolling his hips up, bare cunt pressing directly to Lucanis’s groin. Gods, he could feel him, through his pants.

“Let me,” Roth breathed, between kisses, the wet sounds of desperate lips and tongue. “Return the favor.” He pushed up slightly, got his hand between them, cupped Lucanis’s cock through his pants. The crow groaned, bucked into his hips, before he pulled back, shook his head.

“Your mouth would ruin me.” He pulled himself from Roth’s hold, forced himself to stand up from the couch. He seemed almost unsteady for a moment, as if he was buzzing so hard with excitement that he was nearly numb.

It was agonizing and glorious, to watch Lucanis finish stripping. Every inch of tanned skin made Roth feel as if the room was spinning- the first sight of his cock making his cunt go tight, begging to be filled.

When Lucanis crawled back onto him for the countless time that night, Roth spread his thighs, welcomed him with another wanton kiss. His lips were tingling from all of the contact, as one hand rubbed along the top of Lucanis’s back, the other reaching between them. He wrapped his hand around Lucanis’s shaft, gave a single slow stroke up, then back down, pulling back his foreskin as precum trailed quickly after his fingers.

Lucanis cursed, tipped his face into the crook of Roth’s neck. The elf could feel the tension as the man tried to keep his hips from bucking. “I fear what will happen when I’m inside you,” Lucanis whispered, swallowing thickly. “My pride might be damaged.”

Roth chuckled, even as he wanted to be breathless, carefully angling his hips so he could rub Lucanis’s cockhead along his dripping cunt. “I believe in you,” Roth whispered, glancing up through thick brown lashes, amber eyes so full of starbursts it was like looking into the real sky, and now the abyss of the Fade. “You’ve never disappointed me before.”

Lucanis bucked his hips then, pushed past Roth’s hand, into his waiting body. Roth tipped his head back, mouth falling open, as Lucanis shuddered, teeth dragging along Roth’s neck.

“Oh fuck,” the elf whispered, voice trembling, as Lucanis thrust again, harder now, pushing him onto his back and pinning him there. Roth got his arms around Lucanis, held on tightly, nails digging little crescents into his back as his crow kissed and kissed him desperately. The bliss from his first orgasm was spiraling around Roth’s spine again, his body achingly sensitive.

He wasn’t sure how Lucanis hit that spot so fucking perfectly inside him- but hells he did, making Roth’s legs tremble. Lucanis pulled from his mouth, pressed his forehead against Roth’s, panted breaths mingling as the crow looked at him through half closed eyes. There was color, to his cheeks- a warm flush of arousal that made him seem so real, pulled him from the fantasy of a shadow he had always partially been, to Roth.

“You feel,” Lucanis managed, swallowing thickly, “fucking perfect.” Roth surged up for a kiss, biting at Lucanis’s lower lip, nipping at his tongue. He rolled his own hips up, his clit rubbing against Lucanis’s groin, giving him the sort of friction he needed.

He swore he was almost there, teetering just a step from the edge- he wasn’t used to that, so quickly. Not without his own hand between his legs. “I think,” he whimpered, voice breaking, “I’m going to come again.”

Lucanis pulled from his mouth, pressed to his forehead again, was watching. As if he wanted, no needed to see it. His hips bucked faster, and Roth tried to gulp down air, body going tight, so bloody tight.

“Please,” Lucanis whispered, his voice so soft, so small that it fit in the cracks of Roth’s bones, the space for his marrow. He sobbed, eyes nearly squeezing shut as tears spilled from the corners, his cunt tightening around Lucanis, pulling him in so deep, keeping him there. The crow cursed, before he groaned Roth’s name, so sweetly, so reverently, his thrusts shallow, needy. Roth could feel the warmth spreading inside him, despite the way his mind seemed to be ricocheting around his skull with his own orgasm.

Roth went limp, on the couch. The only thing he could do was pull Lucanis down for another kiss, as their bodies began to still, his lover still buried inside him. Gods, he didn’t think he ever wanted Lucanis to leave his body.

He was content, to toy with Lucanis’s hair, the man a pleasant weight on top of him, as he nestled into the crook of his neck, his breathing slowly calming. The room felt almost silent, without the sounds of their breaths, the needy little noises. It was as if time had stopped, just for them.

When Lucanis finally lifted his head, he pressed a sweet kiss to Roth’s cheek, lingering a moment in a way that had the elf’s heart swelling, in his chest. Then he slowly climbed off of him and the couch, as Roth sat up, leaning against the back. Despite the pleasing ache in his body that reminded him he had thoroughly fucked, he felt more alive, more present than he had at any point, while in his Fade prison.

Lucanis was back only a moment later, pulling a blanket up over them both. He stretched out, over Roth’s lap, the rogue more than pleased to reach down, stroke his hair back. The exhaustion was evident, on Lucanis’s face- and Roth had to wonder if what little sleep he ever did allow himself had been denied while he was lost.

Had Lucanis been too worried to sit still, for even a moment?

Roth smiled softly, content to just look at this man, as Lucanis’s eyelids fluttered. “Are you falling asleep?” Roth asked, only for Lucanis to jerk slightly, eyes going fully open.

“No. I never sleep.”

Well, almost never. Certainly not enough.

“It’s alright if you do,” Roth offered, even as Lucanis sat up. “Spite and I can play cards. Or something.”

Honestly, the idea of the demon throwing a little tantrum over a card game had Roth nearly chuckling. He had to bite back the sound- but he was fairly certain Lucanis knew, anyway.

“Don’t say that,” he said, turning so he was on his side, looking up at Roth. “I haven’t taught him Wicked Grace yet.” There was a single chuckle, before Lucanis seemed to calm. “I’m not afraid of him,” he pointed out, “I just don’t want to waste time now that you’re here.”

Unspoken, and no longer lost to the Fade.

Barely thought, Because you might not be tomorrow.

“You still have to sleep sometimes,” Roth said, even if he knew it was a losing battle. Today. Maybe it would be a battle he could win another day. He hoped he’d get the chance to try, in the future.

“With you here? Like this?” Lucanis’s eyes dragged down Roth’s bare chest and belly, not needing the blanket to be moved, now that he had seen, tasted was lay between his legs. “I’d rather stay awake.”

“Stay awake all night?” Roth asked, positively grinning, “However shall we pass the time?” He reached for Lucanis, but the assassin grasped his hand, pulled it close so he could kiss his wrist, feel his pulse against his lips.

“Brat,” he whispered again- a term Roth had heard countless times over the past few months. No one had ever made it sound like the sweetest compliment like Lucanis did.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I wasn’t.” Roth kept grinning, as Lucanis kissed his wrist again, before freeing his hand, so Roth could go back to stroking his hair. He was quiet, for a long moment, before asking,

“Would you talk to me?” Lucanis paused, after the quiet ask, eyes darting away. “Your voice is a comfort.”

And it was something he thought he might never hear again.

Roth didn’t need him to say it to know he was thinking it.

Roth kept smiling, as Lucanis shifted a little, not fighting as his eyelids grew heavy. “I’ll tell you the tale of a charming rogue who stole the hearts of a hapless hero.”

“Hearts?” Lucanis asked, as ROth tangled some of his hair around his finger.

“Yes, hearts. Unless I haven’t utterly wowed Spite as well.” Lucanis huffed, but oh, when he glanced back up, his eyes poured out an endless ocean of affection for the man holding him.

“Roth,” he whispered, a hand under the blanket finding his bare thigh, squeezing it tenderly. “Tomorrow…”

“Whatever happens, happens. And we’ll take it on… together…” Roth bent over, brushed a kiss to Lucanis’s forehead, before his crow got an arm around him, pulled him down so they were both stretched along the couch, legs tangling together. Lucanis fit perfectly, against his chest, under his chin, as he nosed at Roth’s warm skin. “We can handle whatever comes next.”

“All I have to do is kill a god to keep you out of trouble,” Lucanis whispered. “Easy.”

Roth laughed, as Lucanis tipped his head back, and pecked his lips. “I never said I was easy to court,” he teased, “besides, I’ve never seen you shy away from a challenge.”

Lucanis said nothing, only smiled softly, settling back and gently closing his eyes. “So. I was promised a story.”

Roth ran a hand along Lucanis’s spine, could feel warmth seeming to vibrate in the air. Spite, listening as well- close to the surface, but not pushing. Simply… existing.

“Right. So. There was this dashing, heartbreak of a rogue,” Roth offered, voice even, soft. “Who stole the heart of a famed assassin, and quite possibly the demon who had possessed him. You see, the world found it needed saving, but the rogue couldn’t do it alone…”

[mclarensangel]

Sneek Peek!!!

guys, gals and non-binary pals, here is the sneak peek.

warnings: mentions of anxiety, mentions of anxiety about weight, weight insecurity, idiots to lovers

This hadn’t been a problem before, having known him since you were 5, you had shared a bed plenty of times, but now? Now you were head over heels in love with the curly-haired man. And you had to pretend that you weren't. But that wasn’t your biggest problem right now. Right now, your biggest problem was getting ready and getting to the grid on time, you could tell Lando about the bed situation later. And anyway, there was a sofa, you could try and cover yourself up with the end blanket off of the bed on the sofa. Lando would need the bed anyway, he has the biggest job to do here. And so to sum it all up, all of these reasons are what led you to stand in front of the mirror in the bedroom, nearly in tears as you looked at your reflection. You didn’t hate your body, in fact, you were your biggest fan, but the anxiety of everything was eating you up from the inside out. Every piece of fabric felt like it was clinging to your body. You have to take a deep breath you keep telling yourself. 

Your phone ringing from the desk nearby pulled you from your anxiety-ridden trance. Picking up your phone you see Lando’s contact lighting up your phone screen. The image itself makes you laugh. The man had made it as a surprise to make you laugh when you were having a bad day a few weeks ago even though it had some pictures in it that he hated. And he wouldn’t tell you, but he would use the worst images of him in the universe again if it made you smile the way it did again. 

Although the picture made you smile, the anxiety still bubbling within you made your thumb hesitate over the reject button before pressing the accept button. 

L: Hello?

       Y/N: Lando? What’s up? Is everything okay? Are you h-?

          L: I’m okay, breath, I'm okay. I just wanted to ask what room I’m in.

Fuck. 

     Y/N: Uh, about that… 

The line stayed quiet as Lando waited for you to continue, and realising that you weren’t he tried to push you for your answer as gently as possible 

       L: yeah?

  Y/N: Sotheysortofmessedupandtheresonlyonehotelroombetweenthetwoofusanditonlyhasonebed.

     L: What? Remember what I said about breathing? Take a breath and tell me, again. Okay? 

Taking what might have been the biggest breath of your life you repeat yourself

Y/N: They messed up the rooms

   L: okay?

Y/N: And there’s only one hotel room between the two of us

   L: right…

Y/N: it only has one bed 

   L: Darlin’ I'm not seeing the problem here, we’ve shared a bed before. What room are we in?

Y/N: 410

   L: Okay, I’ll see you in a minute okay

Y/N: Okay. 

You both hang up the one at the same time, something that has come with being friends for such a long time. With a shaky breath, you throw your phone back onto the desk before making your way to hide in the bathroom knowing that Lando would want to know why you’re so anxious about sharing a bed all of a sudden

[catreginae]

Warriors was a weak man at heart. If any animal looked at him with their pleading eyes, he’d cave into whatever they wanted in a second.

Wolfie knew this. Wolfie decided to use it against him.

It had taken the rancher to swallow down his pride and shift into wolf form to be allowed to go out for some fresh air finally, but he didn’t allow it to dampen his mood. He hasn’t been allowed to do anything for weeks after the confrontation with Dink, something as simple as a walk sounded like heaven to him.

“I forgot how pretty Akkala was the last time we came here.”

“It was raining the last time we were here. With how bad that storm was, we nearly lost Wild to the winds, so we didn’t have time to appreciate the scenery.”

“We both know for a fact that if Wild did get swept up, he would’ve been fine and probably enjoyed every second of it.”

“You really are no better than him.”

“Hey!”

Twilight playfully swatted his shoulder, a cackle leaving his lips as he grinned ear to ear. Wars couldn’t help but laugh in turn. It’s been such a long time since they’ve been this carefree, Wars had to admit he missed these moments.

Even if the only reason this was happening at all was because of his weakness to cute animals.

He was still annoyed by that, but he would pretend that it didn’t.

“So, what was it that Wild needed again? He said that the stable master down south will have ‘em.”

“He needed some things for dinner, I think. Said that there was a traveler there that settled for the week selling spices that he wanted to grab before we left the area.”

“Like Goron Spice? Doesn’t he have dozens of those bottles stashed away in that slate of his?”

“You act as if I know these things, Twi, I don’t snoop in his things.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.”

An elbow was jabbed into Wars’ side, and he busted out laughing before dragging the younger into a loose headlock. He ruffled his hair, watching as Twi tried biting him in attempt to free himself.

“Let me go! I’ll bite ya, don’t think I won’t!”

“Awe, is our rancher unable to escape from little ole me? I’m not even trying.”

“I will throw your bedding into the river if you don’t stop.”

Wars stuck his tongue out and allowed Twi to fall onto the ground with a thud. He let a few colorful threats out as he scrambled back onto his feet, brushing off the dirt that now clung to him.

“You suck.”

“Not as much as you.”

“But, seriously, what was it Wild wanted? I don’t want to waste rupees getting things we don’t even need.”

“We can just ask the guy what things are and see if anything rings a bell. And, if all else fails, we lie and say he didn’t have any left in stock.”

“We ain’t lying to our chef, he’ll lace our dinner with things that’ll make us see the goddesses themselves if he ever finds out.”

“Then we’ll make sure he doesn’t, you dork, easy as that.”

“I hope he makes it so you can’t shit for weeks, Wars, honest to Ordonia.”

Snapping twigs made Wars pause for a moment, his ears twitching slightly. Twilight stopped behind him, his ears seemingly picking up the subtle sounds that surrounded them. The soft thump of Twilight’s heartbeat filled the air, and the soft stench of blood finally reached Wars’ nose.

It made him gag.

“What is that smell? It smells rancid.”

Twilight cupped his hand over his nose, a faint green tinge clinging to his face as his ears drooped slightly. It smelled like a rotting corpse, one that had been left festering in the sun for days. And it was so far away, goddesses only know how horrific it’ll smell once whatever it was got closer.

“No clue. Is it one of those gibdo’s Wild warned us about?”

“He said those things are only in the Gerudo desert, so I doubt it. But, it isn’t anything I recognize. The monster's ‘round here smell doesn’t smell this bad.”

“A lynel, then?”

“No… no it isn’t one of them.”

The sounds of footsteps made the two reach for their swords, eyes trained on the tree line. They could see shadows shifting, the horrid stench only growing closer.

“Excuse me?”

A soft voice spoke from behind them, causing the two to jump back and point their swords at whoever spoke.

The person raised their hands, panic etched across his face as he took a step back.

“Woah, hold your horses. I’m not one of those monsters you gotta worry about.”

The man chuckled, though it seemed force. Wars’ eyes narrowed as he momentarily looked back to where the shadow was, yet when he did nothing was there anymore. As if it was never there at all.

The stench was gone, too.

“Who are you?”

Twilight asked, lowering his sword just enough to allow the man a moment to gather himself.

“I’m a traveler! I came from around Hateno Village, and I’m trying to find somebody. Can you possibly help me?”

The two gave each other glances, clear distrust still lingering in the air. But, Twilight couldn’t help but smile kindly despite that, even if goosebumps were clinging to his skin.

“Sure, who ya’ lookin’ for?”

“A young man, probably around 20 years old? Long blonde hair, blue eyes, burn scars, goes by the name Link?”

“Link, huh? Can’t say I know a Link.”

Twilight clicked his tongue, every single nerve in his body screaming that this guy was bad news. Wars’ hummed in agreement, feigning ignorance as well.

“Truly? I could’ve sworn you two were with him when you went to Tarrey Town.”

“Nope, you must’ve confused our friend with somebody else. Sorry.”

Wars finally pipped up, his grip on his sword tightening ever so slightly.

“Are you sure? Because I’m certain you both are named Link as well.”

There was no time for the two to think before the man lunged, a croaked dagger in hand. An ugly glimmer shone in his eyes, malicious and full of hate and a smile upon his lips. It all happened so quickly, in less then a second… Warriors couldn’t even react before it was to late.

The dagger was already buried deeply into the front of Twilight’s throat, gurgled yelps of pain being the only sound between them all.

“Shit!”

Wars lunged at the man, one hand reaching for his bag to grab the fairy he always kept on hand. It’ll be fine, he told himself, he’ll deal with the guy and heal his brother before things get any worse-

“Looking for this?”

Another voice cackled behind him, causing Wars to snap his head back. Another man, wearing a red tightsuit and a white mask, playfully twirled both his and Twilight’s pouches in his hands. His eyes widened, horror filling his veins.

He didn’t even realize he was moving before he had his hands around the man’s throat, squeezing tightly to force him to drop the bags. But, that only allowed the second assailant to toss Twilight aside, grabbing the now discarded bags with a cackle of his own.

“You really are stupid! I thought this would’ve been harder considering what you are~”

He holds the bags up, smiling widely, before disappearing in a shroud of smoke. The man Wars had in his grasp followed soon after, leaving behind nothing but their dropped weapons.

Warriors’ heartbeat thundered in his ears as he looked around, nothing but panic filling him as he darted towards where Twilight was thrown. Goddesses, he can barely sense a heartbeat from him, it was so faint and weak.

He grabs the younger into his arms, pressing a hand against the wound on his neck in a hopeless attempt to stop the bleeding. Twilight was barely responding, his eyes fluttering as he weakly grabbed at Wars’ wrist. Blood coated his lips and chin, harsh coughs causing his wound to gush even more.

“H-hey it’ll be okay, right? I’ll figure this out…”

Wars cooed, tears forming at the edges of his eyes.

He hadn’t forgotten the fear and horror he felt when Twilight nearly died mere weeks ago, but having to hold him as he clung onto life so desperately was another thing entirely.

Was this what Time felt?

Twilight gulped, a shaky smile on his lips as he gently brushed away the tears that had left his eyes. Of course he’d be comforting Wars in this moment, even as he danced with death. He hated seeing his brothers cry.

Wars was saying… something. Twilight didn’t know what, his words sounding almost underwater. Everything felt so slow, too, it made Twilight feel tired.

He felt Wars gently tilt his head back, he didn’t put up much a fight. He was just checking the wound, he told himself, to see how it’ll need to be stitched if they were to return his body to Ordon when he dies.

Oh, he hopes Colin will be busy when they do return his corpse. He can’t imagine how saddened his baby brother will feel seeing him in such a state. He never got the chance to watch him grow stronger.

“I… orr- ight-”

What did Warriors say? He wonders if it had any importance. Probably not, it’s strange to talk to a corpse, after all.

A sharp pain shot through his throat as the last of his consciousness trickled away, and his last breath was ripped out of his body through a scream.

(I never really gave them a reason to be away from the group the first time around, and having Twilight get taken down by a Hinox seemed silly. The idea of having the Yiga be a genuine threat seemed like fun. Also, following Twi’s POV when he’s dying seemed more fun then Wars’. I can’t wait to make these boys suffer >:). )

-❄ anon

👀 👀 👀

Very interested to see where this goes from here if you were willing to change so much of it.

[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Hi, just wondering how the next part of Always meant to be is coming along? I’m currently rereading it ☺️

Four weeks of fun: The Start

You should have been feeling excited about jetting off to Italy to start your vacation, and you were, but you were also nervous. Extremely nervous. You weren't exactly the biggest fan of flying.

That's why you were clutching Ransom's hand as the two of you sat together, slowly approaching the airport.

"Hey," Ransom lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. "What would you say if I said I want you to wear this over your eyes?" He asked with a playful smile as he held up a silk scarf.

You raised your briws as you looked at it then him. "I'd say, sure, later tonight." You smiled at him, making him grin.

"I don't mean like that," Ransom paused, "But remind me later about it." He winked, making you roll your eyes with a smile. "I have a surprise for you, so put this on until I say you can take it off."

You groaned, "Ran-"

"C'mon, beautiful, it's just a bit of fun." He said as he began to place it in front of you, taking no for an answer.

After a while, the town car you were in came to a stop, and Ransom helped you out. He instructed you to walk forward, keeping a hold of your hand as you did until he told you to stop walking.

"Can I take this off now?" You asked Ransom as you tugged on the scarf that was still covering your eyes.

"Not yet."

You let out a startled yelp as Ransom scooped you up, laughing as you quickly wrapped your arms around his next and held on for dear life.

"Relax, beautiful, I won't drop you." Ransom pressed a kiss to your temple and began to climb up what felt like a set of stairs.

"Why don't I believe you, Drysdale?"

Ransom rolled his eyes even though you couldn't see him. "Behave, or things could change." He teased, giving you a playful jiggle, making you squeal and cling onto him.

Not long after, Ransom came to stop and placed you back onto your feet. You could hear something in the background around you, but only focused on Ransom's hands that gently caressed your hips, sending shivers down your spine.

"Before I let you see, remember, I did this for you, okay?" Ransom whispered against your ear.

"Why does that worry me?" Ransom chuckled and gently pulled the scarf from your eyes. "Surprise." He whispered.

After your eyes had adjusted, your mouth fell open at the sight before you. Words failed you as you took in your surroundings. The small yet beautifully luxurious private jet literally takes your breath away.

Ransom's brow furrowed in worry as he waited for your reaction. "Are you mad?"

You shook your head, "Why would I be?"

"Because you told me not to waste money on a private jet." Ransom said as he moved to stand in front of you.

"And when have you ever done what you've been told to?" You smiled at him playfully.

Ransom rolled his eyes with a huff. "Well, you're wrong."

You furrowed tour brows and wrapped yournarmsmaround hisnl neck. "Is that so?"

Ransom nodded, his hand once again resting on your hips. "I didn't pay for this." He smirked. "It's the company jet." He grinned.

Your eyes widened, "Are you kidding?"

Ransom shook his head. "Harlan suggested we use it after I.., hmm, mentioned something about..." Ransom's cheeks began to blush slightly as he looked down.

"About what?" You asked with a soft smile.

"Well... you," He looked at you, "I know you hate flying, and I thought if we were in more of a private setting then, maybe, I dunno... you'd relax a bit more... or I could distract you." He said the last part with a wiggle of hisneyebrows making you laugh at him.

"Thank you," You leaned up and pressed your lips against his. "Really. I feel less nervous already." You smiled at him, trying not to think about the statistics you looked up online and the fact you are 200 times more likely to die while flying on a private plane than you are while flying on a commercial airliner. You didn't want to ruin Ransom's thoughtful surprise.

"C'mon, let's get a drink... what you having? Coffee?" Ransom asked as he led you over to a small sofa.

Your brow furrowed, "I thought you'd have champagne on ice, Mr Drysdale." You said as you sat down.

Ransom grinned as he walked over to where the little bar sat at the other side of the space. "Dont you worry, beautiful, I have, that's just a little later. I just know how you like a good coffee first." He made you both a coffee before joining you on the sofa. "I had someone collect some sandwiches and cake from that place you like, so we've got breakfast ready to go when you're hungry."

You shook your head with a chuckle. "If you don't start being an asshole to someone soon, I mighty think you're not my Ransom." You teased, making him scoff and roll his eyes.

The sound of someone clearing their throat beside you drew your attention away from Ransom and up to the tall blonde womam, whom you assumed was a part of the cabin crew.

"Good morning, Mr Drysdale. It's good to have you back on board." She smiled at Ransom. "The Captain has informed me that we are almost ready to start our flight."

Ransom nodded, "Glad to hear it." He said, slipping his arm around your shoulders as he sipped his coffee.

The young woman excused herself before walking out of sight.

You looked at Ransom with a knowing smirk. "She's sucked your dick before, hasn't she?"

Ransom smirked into his coffee. "You're words, beautiful, not mine." He winked at you.

"Such a manwhore." You laughed to yourself.

@letsdisneythings @smile1318 @readawaythereality @dad-supremedeactivated04291992 @marebare21 @slutforchrisjamalevans @summersong69 @gretavankleep37 @calimoi @noonenuts @nighttimestan @sarahbellesaurus @coffeebooksandfandom @lewisroscoelove @oceansrose2002 @teambarnes72

[silawastaken]

Surely Chuuya will understand that Dazai declining mental health isn’t his fault or Dazais fault or anyone’s fault, really, though certain people definitely have had a bigger part in it than others (looking at mori). Surely Chuuya will understand that Dazai didn’t talk about any of it because he’s mentally ill and genuinely doesn’t believe anyone should care about him, and that lashing out at Dazai isn’t going to help the situation. Surely! Surely! The confrontation between Dazais, now traumatized, younger sister who really only has him and who will now refuse to stop clinging onto him and his older brother figure who just lost the love of his life will be much worse than the confrontation with his soulmate. Surely!!!!!!! SURELY CHUUYA WILL BE UNDERSTANDING AND SUPPORTIVE!! AND NOTHING VAD WILL EVER HAPPEN EVER AGAN!!!!!!

Also I’ve finally had time to reread chap 21 and really read it you know, and I just wanna say that scene where dazai complains about being hungry and everyone else immediately handing him food? that shit was GOOD! I’m a fan of slowburn and ssk abd all that good shit but it’s nice to see whenever their friends do shit like that. Reminds me of when dazais bag broke right after Oda died. It’s just cute :3

I'VE BEEN SAVING THIS SINCE YOU SENT IT BECAUSE I HAD THOUGHTS™ AND NEEDED TO SHARE WITHOUT SPOILERS. SO, CHAPTER 22 SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ IT ALREADY.

So, Chuuya in chapter 22 is special to me, and i responded to a comment about it- Because of how he reacts.

Chuuya's first reaction is fear. He's scared, because the person he loves the most had tried to khs, and Chuuya didn't notice. He didn't put it together. His next, as Dazai continues to try and run and hide despite it being obvious Chuuya knew, was anger and frustration because of the fact that he's scared.

He's scared, worried, he's just had something he's been freaking out about for weeks revealed to be the one person he didn't consider, and that one person is extremely mentally ill. Like any sixteen year old- He doesn't necessarily react in the appropriate manner.

Of course, as he calms down and figures things out, his reaction becomes more understandable and appropriate- more focused on getting through the day to a place it's safer to process all that happened, and he doesn't push when Dazai says he doesn't want to talk about it.

He's just worried, and hurt because of how blatantly he's been lied too. There's likely a degree of guilt he feels, and will feel, regardless of how much he's aware that it isn't his fault.

An Elise/Ango confrontation hasn't happened yet, but you're right, the likelihood would be that that confrontation would be worse than the Chuuya one. Because, like you said, Elise walked in on Dazai's half dead body, and Ango just lost the most important person to him, and Dazai is that person's younger brother.

There are so many ways that confrontation could go, and while it wouldn't necessarily be explosive the way the Chuuya one was, it would almost certainly hurt worse imo, given everything else that has happened to his siblings and Ango.

The next chapter is going to be pretty heavy I think, given we've moved past the entire soulmate thing, this is picking up loose ends. And lots of those are centered around Dazai and his abuse.

But yeah. Chuuya was specifically written so that he wouldn't instantly have an understanding reaction, so that he would go through different layers of emotion before his finally got to the understanding stuff, because he's human, and also pretty fucking traumatised from this whole thing, and therefore it's more realistic for him to have a negative reaction first, before beginning to understand and be nicer about it.

And yeah that scene with Dazai having food thrown at him was so nice, I wanted to specifically include a bit that confirmed that after they realised about how bad Dazai actually was with food, they were all looking out for it.

Anyway you probably were NOT looking for this long ass rant but thank you for this ask cause it really had me thinking <33

[slytherinshua]

here i am 😈😈 okay so congrats on 100 very well deserved 🙏💞 and I'd like to request #16 from fluff, #10 from sickness (if sunoo was the sick one id actually cry but no pressure) , and #17 from action for sunoo pls and thank u and ily and take ur time writing no pressure lmao 🤭🤭

In Sickness & In Health

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. sickfic ig. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: sunoo has a cold. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: sunoo x reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 614. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: diaaaa ty for requesting omg this was so cute i loved writing it!!

Your boyfriend was sick, and your boss was giving you overtime for the 4th time this week. It was completely unfair and you wanted to punch someone in the face for your luck. But that would be a bit uncalled for, and you were sure Sunoo would laugh at it.

After a little persuading (arguing) with your boss, he let you have the weekend on account of a “sick relative.” Sure, you didn’t specify how sick your “relative” was, or the fact that he was actually your boyfriend, but your boss didn’t need to know.

Once 5 o’clock rolled around, you rushed back to your apartment. You picked up some painkillers and other medication from the drug store, as well as some mint chocolate ice cream before you walked through the door.

Apparently, you weren’t as quiet as you thought, because when you finally opened the bedroom door, Sunoo was already sitting up groggily. It was very clear that he had just woken up from his adorably messed up hair, disrupted sheets, and a Sunoo head-shaped dent in the pillow.

“Oh no- Did I wake you up?!” You asked quickly, and he just giggled and nodded, suppressing a cough that tried to surface. “I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“It’s okay.” He yawned, “Can you give me a hug? I haven’t seen you all day, and I missed you.” He pouted, giving you puppy-dog eyes as if he needed that to convince you. You would give him a hug regardless.

“Hold on- I have to navigate through the ocean of tissues before I can hug you.” You said, grabbing the trash can and throwing the tissues in their proper place as you made your way to Sunoo.

“Sorry about that- I wasn’t really thinking about where I was throwing them.” He explained and you laughed.

“You don’t have to apologise for anything, baby. As long as you work on getting better, that’s all that matters.” You said gently, finally reaching him and wrapping your arms around him. He sniffed, hugging you as tightly as possible.

“Do you still have a headache?” You asked, referencing the text he had sent with updates on his condition. 

He shook his head, “Sleeping made it go away. I’m just a bit sniffly still… As you could probably tell from the tissues.” He laughed, and you were glad he was still keeping his spirit up despite falling sick two days ago.

“Tired?” You asked.

“Yeah… You kinda just barged in here.”

You cringed, “Sorry for waking you, baby. Go back to sleep.”

“Can you stay with me? I really missed you.” He asked hesitantly, clinging onto the sleeve of your shirt as if you would leave and then he’d never be able to get you back.

“Of course, anything you want.” You let him pull you down next to him on the bed, his arms wrapping around your waist as he snuggled closer and got comfy. You smiled, pressing soft kisses all around his face to make up for the fact that he wouldn’t let you kiss his lips.

“Do you have work tomorrow?” He whispered, already half-asleep.

“Nope… I’m all yours for the weekend.” You said satisfactorily, happy that you were able to spend time with him uninterrupted for two more days.

“Really?” His voice was quiet as he fought to stay awake. You hummed, stroking his hair and making the battle against sleep all the harder for him. He eventually lost and you heard his breathing soften and his body relax as he drifted off to his dreamland.

You kissed his cheek, whispering a, “Get better soon, baby…” You fell asleep yourself, your arms still wrapped safely around him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ enha taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @ddenoudepression

[tutuandscoot]

I never quite understood why the trip to Scotland was so important for VM and for their decision to skate together again… wasn't it long before the last Olympics?! Can you explain me something more? 😊

I think in general this is hard to understand because no one (as in us commenting/discussing it) was there so it’s just their retelling of it that people are basing their assumptions off.

I don’t actually know when exactly the Scotland thing was. Based on this TV appearance it seems to have been around a similar time to the china trip (they say they were in Scotland ‘a few weeks ago’ and then later ‘we were in china…’ I’m guessing just before)

As far as their decision to come back I hold more value to their trip to the Great Wall, at T actually details quite specifically in this interview that that was truly the definitive moment. I believe that’s also what they say in their book that was when they kinda settled on it.

As with everything big life decision related there’s a lot that goes into it and especially with two people who had to be 100% on the same page to go ahead with it. As they say they were kinda probing each other for a while to get a sense of where the other was at then seemingly on that trip to the Great Wall they had a real in-depth discussion about it. Idk though. I wasn’t there.. none of us were so we just have to take their word for it (as with everything they say)

As far as it being long before the actual olys it seems from things they’ve said it was only maybe 6 months or so after Sochi that they began thinking about the idea of coming back. In their book there’s a moment when Scott is talking to Patch (well before they actual decided) and Scott says something about wanting to come back and patch says ‘well I think Tessa definitely wants it but I’m not sure if you do’ and that seemed to really convinced Scott to realise how much he wanted it as well. It’s definitely wasn’t this spur of the moment decision weeks before the GP season to comeback and wing it for another gold medal. It was very methodical and the fact they wanted to change so much and do it this new way.. they also had to find people to fund them work out where they would live and all the other things that go along with it.

The way I see Scotland more is around hearing their friend sing this song and it was just one of those moments where they connected artistically to an idea or inspiration. They were having lots of discussions about the direction they wanted to take their skating and artistry even just in the show realm regardless of whether they would come back, but since it was around the time of that decision to compete again. In my opinion it gets lost in the shuffle. In general that whole time for them I assume was this kinda.. rebirthing for them and the next phase of their career.. and I think that’s the really fascinating part rather then a particular instance (or people clinging onto the fact they looked at each other across a crowded room like out of some romcom even tho apparently his gf at the time was there too omg who fkn cares I which people had just left their personal lives alone blahhh😝)

Hope that explains at least my perspective. Basically there was a lot that went into that decision I don’t know that one moment meant more then any except seemingly the Great Wall trip that seemed to be pretty definitive

[jungk0oksthighs]

Pi Gasu | One Of Me, Two Of Us

Pairing - jungkook x reader

Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook

Word Count - 5.5k

Jungkook doesn't react too kindly to your previous threat & makes you an offer. Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, terminal illness, toxic family dynamics & secrets

SERIES MASTERLIST

There are moments in life when time itself comes to a halt. Moments where there are so many unspoken truths locked behind the eyes of the damaged and tormented, begging to be freed but too afraid to speak up. Moments like these can be found everywhere in life, with nothing but racing hearts and anxious sweaty palms desperately clinging onto the illusion of something better. Ignoring reality, ready to embrace the future whatever it looks like. Longing for more. Uncertainty is omnipresent, and in this moment, right here, it’s thick enough to cloud the air and choke you.

“Do not pull that trigger.” Jungkook warns from his position on the now destroyed bed, equal parts frightening and frightened. “Y/N… Untie me, I’ll do anything you need. I’ll be anything you need. But do not pull that trigger.”

A shaky breath escapes you, gun still firmly pressed to your temple, “Why? So you can lie to me about drinking my blood—”

“I cannot express the magnitude of how sorry I am, I’m sorry. I really am sorry I was dishonest with you, but you don’t need to do this. I’ll give your brother my blood. I’ll save him.”

Where Jungkook was once battling with the restraints, screaming, begging you to free him just moments ago. He’s now completely still, there’s a darkness in his eyes suggesting that he’s looking at you with nothing but disgust and hatred. But his features are soft, rounded, maybe even a little scared. As you know by now he’s not exactly reliable, in fact he’s far from it. But there’s something about the desperation engulfing his frame that makes you want to believe him.

“How do I know that I can trust you?” You swallow, trembling hands slowly peeling the weapon away from your face.

“Because you’ve just threatened the one thing the solidifies my promise.” He sighs, watching you cautiously. There’s another sigh that follows, this one appearing more relieved when you haphazardly throw the gun down to the glossy floor of the private VIP room. “Untie me.”

“Why did you lie to me?” You sniff, a myriad of emotions coursing your veins in this moment. Relief, sadness, regret, shame, and one that’s fuelling every fibre of your being. Hope. Hope for Eddie. Hope that he’ll live a long, healthy life.

Jungkook wets his lips, taking a beat of silence before he shakes his wrists, sharp chin tipping to the chains binding his fury, “You have my word that I’ll help your brother, untie me and we’ll discuss this properly.”

“No.” You bite, shaking your head, determined for answers, “Not until you tell me why you lied. This whole time you’ve been filling my head with romantic bullshit just to drink my blood? Why?”

“There is no bullshit Y/N,” Jungkook kicks his head back in frustration, clearly irritated that you’re interrogating him right now, “What you must understand about me is that before you I had nothing to lose. I said things, did things, that may not make sense to you.”

At this you scoff, peering up to the corner of the room where you clock a tiny camera with a blinking red light beneath the lens. A swift reminder of where you are, of what Euphoria actually is. “Just answer the fucking question. You lied for a reason.”

“Losing you isn’t an option and I knew the truth would hurt—”

“So you kept this huge secret from me for weeks instead?! Tell me how that’s any better!” You lose your cool, thank god Jimin had the decency to share Jungkook’s true intentions with you, if it weren’t for him you would’ve probably been tangled up in the sheets – what’s left of them – with Jungkook right now. The thought alone is enough to make you nauseous, disappointed in your own judge of character.

“I didn’t say it was better, but it was too late for me to take it back by the time your true identity dawned on me. Y/N… Do you believe in fate?” Jungkook’s simple question lands on your ears like an intricate riddle.

“What?” You blink at him, confused. Footsteps already bringing you closer to the bed he’s bound to. He swallows, eyes fluttering shut from pain when you begin to laugh, loud.

“Is this where you tell me we’re soulmates? We’re written in the stars like some sick badly written vampire fanfiction?” You snort, throwing your head back in disbelief, “Sure Jungkook, let’s say fate brought us together and not the prospect of money to help my dying brother. Did fate make you lie to me? Was it fate that drank my blood behind my back? Did fate almost bite me? Is fate the reason you’re chained to a bed right now, physically incapable of stopping me from storming out the room?”

A wicked smile tugs his handsome features, masking the hurt that his doe-eyes are drowning in, “Be my guest. Storm out the room. See how long your brother lasts without me.”  

“Fuck you.” You spit, disgusted.

“I think that ship has long sailed, don’t you?” He’s chuckling, craning his neck from side to side to ease the tension he feels. “If you don’t untie me in the next five seconds—”

His threat is cut short by you reaching for the chains, he’s explained to you before that only a human can physically unlock them. Some kind of ancient binding magic created by powerful witches a billion years ago or something equally as dramatic. If there is no human present to untie them, the creatures of the night rely on timers to break free. But that’s usually a last resort, as vampires are somewhat arrogant and accustomed to humans bending over for them as soon as they ask.

With determined fingers you manage to break the spell, and it’s a millisecond later when you’re being pinned down to the mattress with so much force that for a second your heart stops beating.

Jungkook is above you, angrily pinning your hands above your head, staring down at you with a jaw so sharp it threatens to slice you. Eyes painfully tormented with something dangerous and frightening. His chest is heaving up and down with each and every unsteady breath dragging through his flared nostrils. His hold of your palms is harsh enough to make you hiss in pain, and it’s at that moment Jungkook softens his grip.

“Don’t ever, ever, do that to me again.” His tone drips with venom, sharp teeth bared in a sinister snarl, “Humanity isn’t something you should be reckless with. Take it from somebody who was stripped of theirs without a choice. The only good thing to come from this eternal misery is finding you, so you don’t get to laugh and dance with the idea of death.”

Perhaps it’s the way every hair on your body is standing to attention, or maybe it’s the way you’re both drowning in the depths of his words. Whatever the reason, you begin to sob beneath him. Tears cloud your vision, your heart beating so hard you can feel it in your throat like a stone of sorrow. Jungkook doesn’t move, but his profile does relax upon watching you break down into floods of tears.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper, overcome with emotions that you’ve buried for so long.

“Your life is everything to me.” He hushes you, a long drawn-out sigh following his coos.

“Why… Why me?”

At this the vampire seems to lose himself, eyes frantic and wide with genuine disbelief, “Why you?! Why you?!” He lunges forward even more so, until his forehead rests against yours and his lips are a hair away from your teary face. When the words roll off his tongue they’re barely audible, whispered, but they’re powerful enough to cause your chest to tighten, “Why anyone else when you exist in this world?”

Swallowing, you find the courage to question his previous statement, “Why did you ask if I believe in fate?” You sniffle, eyes fluttering to a close when you’re being tugged into a seated position, your weight directly above Jungkook’s lap, “Do you really think we’re written in the stars?” Your hands find his face, your own body betraying you when the anger you felt for him mere moments ago dissipates into a yearning so utterly heart-shattering it takes your breath away. A feeling so indescribable you ponder if it were really written by the stars, because it’s unlike anything humanly possible.

“Is that what this is? Is that what’s happening between us?” You ask. Simply because from the moment his presence came into your life you’ve been nothing but drawn to him. Sure, you’re angry he lied. Yes, you may have just threatened your life in return for a simple favour from him. But why, why is it that the only ingredient in this messy mixture of life that makes you feel anything at all, is him?

He's cradling you now, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear all while shaking his head, wearing a serious albeit vaguely haunted expression, “I don’t particularly think we’re written anywhere, not yet.” His icy cold thumb catches your falling tears, “But when I look at the stars all I see is you.”

“Please,” You plead, “Please help me save my brother.”

“On one condition.” Jungkook’s words are lost to the skin of your neck, where he’s inhaling your scent with closed eyes, dark lashes dusting the top of his cheekbones.

You pause, slightly panicked. There’s only one thing fathomably possible. He still wants your blood. To feed from you, to know the taste of your humanity trickling down his throat like water droplets of sin from a leaking pipe. That has to be it.

“That’s not it,” Jungkook interjects quietly, reading your mind with ease, “I’ll help you save your brother, but I’m not giving you my blood. I’ll give it to him directly.”

“But he lives six hours—”

“I would go to the ends of the earth for you Y/N. A six hour journey each way is nothing.” He chuckles, the sound floods your senses like a comfortable blanket from the past. “I’ve never begged for anything in this life, but please,” His tone drops an octave lower than usual, “Don’t ever threaten me like that again. Your life is a gift, you don’t need to treat it like a weapon against me. We’re on the same side.”

The human heart beats approximately four thousand times an hour. And every palpitation, each throb, pulse, beat, and pump of blood around your body is a reminder, a reward, for still being here. No matter how bad things may seem, there is light at the end of every tunnel.

Who would’ve thought your light would manifest as a centuries old vampire who’s haunted the corners of your mind since the moment you laid eyes on him.

--

Convincing you to allow Jungkook to visit your childhood home was no easy feat. Jungkook found himself repeating himself over and over, reassuring you that he will save your brother if you trust him enough to enter his private space. He knows he doesn’t deserve that trust though, not after lying to you about the true destination of your donations. But the moment you figured out his greatest weakness, his only weakness, and used it to your advantage – he knew he was in too deep.

The idea of losing you, be it to the brown soil of the earth or to the thirst of eternal life, is something that Jungkook cannot physically handle. It’s still a mystery to him why your blood smells different to others, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you and he are connected by the moon. The moon has a dark side that nobody ever sees, hidden and overlooked by the beautiful glow of the surface moonlight. And yet neither can exist without the other – something Jungkook never truly understood until he met you.

Where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is Jungkook, there is you.

At some point he managed to convince you this is the best way – the only way he’s willing – to help your brother. Being immortal is a curse, not in the sense of watching everybody you’ve ever loved grow grey and die, but in the sense of being able to hear every mortal thought around him. To feel every emotion coursing a human’s mind every second of the day. Truthfully he’s never cared for humanity before, it took him almost two centuries to drown out the noise they give off, but he eventually did it. Again, until he met you.

“My mom’s going to be suspicious of this, you know that right?” You sigh, somewhat agitated. “There’s no way this is going to work.”

It’s almost seven pm and you’re both sitting uncomfortably on the edge of a motel mattress. For obvious reasons you wouldn’t allow Jungkook to sleep at your mom’s house. And so the façade of being your ‘boyfriend’ and the two of you ‘needing your own space’ was created. Hence the motel a mile away from Eddie’s space.

“Is the idea of us being together really that unbelievable?” Jungkook’s pierced brow quirks, lips curling into a small smile. “I would argue that we suit each other quite well.” He hums, watching you lace up your white sneakers.

You’re wearing a grey oversized t shirt dress today, while Jungkook finds it difficult to keep up with the trends of human fashion – for example in his youth a woman would’ve never exposed so much skin - he admits you look nice. Simple yet ‘grungy’ with a black leather jacket draped over your shoulders.

“You’re a vampire,” You remind him with a flat voice, emotionless, recently it’s been hard for Jungkook to decipher your thoughts because you’ve been so guarded around him. But he understands, giving what’s happened, “And even if by some miracle she doesn’t realise, you have face tattoos. There’s no way she’s going to like you.” You snort, shaking your head.

Jungkook stands, looking over the new outfit you picked out on his behalf for this occasion in the full-length mirror. A black turtleneck, presumably to cover the tattoos littering the flesh there, paired with slacks and a leather jacket of the same colour. He’s still smiling, brushing raven hair back between his inked fingertips.

“Well luckily for you the purpose of me being here is not to impress your mother.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Soon enough you’re standing on your mother’s porch, fingers laced with Jungkook’s in an attempt to come off as a normal couple. Your mother is under the impression you arrived just now, when in reality you arrived last night. Of course you couldn’t visit her during the day, not unless you wanted Jungkook to burst into ash where he stands. Truthfully? Giving how you’ve been acting around him he thinks there’s a part of you that wants nothing more than just that. But even he knows you feel it too, the lunar pull between your souls binding and entwining you with each and every passing second you spend in the other’s company.

The term ‘true mate’ has been thrown around over the centuries, Jungkook never believed in such destiny because he had never experienced it. But –

“Y/N, you came.” Your mom smiles, interrupting his train of thought. Her expression drops as soon as she register’s your ‘boyfriends’ presence beside you. Her eyes flicker to where your hands meet, and Jungkook has to bite back a laugh at your mother’s thoughts.

So this is the guy who’s stolen my daughter’s heart. Stolen sounds about right. This guy definitely has a criminal record. Divine Sinner? Either he’s a pretentious asshole or he’s in a cult. She can do better, I never expected her to choose someone like him.

“Hello, Jungkook is it?” She feigns a smile, “When Y/N told me she had a boyfriend I didn’t believe her… So nice to meet you.” She’s laughing now, though her eyes have been replaced by sharp daggers boring into the depths of Jungkook’s immortal being.

“Pleasure to meet you too ma’am.” He grins, somewhat amused by the whole situation. He could kill her immediately, right here on the spot where she stands, and it’s not like you would bat an eyelid because your thoughts are just as malevolent as hers.

Been here less than two minutes and she’s already judging me, sounds about right. Why couldn’t it have been her that got sick? Why Eddie? He’s a good person, a much better person than she is. Just keep it together Y/N you’re not here to catch up.

“Well… Come in.” There’s a spike of hesitation to her request, followed by a flash of panic behind her aged eyes that doesn’t go a miss by Jungkook. She suspects.

“I’ll fix us some tea, you must be tired after that long flight. Y/N do you have the money for—”

Your mother’s words fade into nothing, Jungkook’s been invited into the home but still it’s difficult to be in here. It’s bleak, unpersonal and the entire place is flooded with rose thorn. The stench of it is almost enough to have him gasping for air, but thankfully he doesn’t exactly need to breathe. So she’s paranoid about vampires. Very paranoid it seems. And then it clicks into place, it was definitely your mother who poisoned you before, suspicious of what you had been getting up to in the city. It all makes sense now.

There’s no way in hell he’s drinking that tea.

--

As expected your mother is dubious of your ‘relationship’ with the giant tattooed man you’ve darkened her doorstep with. It’s comical in a way, how she barely knows her own daughter but has somehow managed to instantly pick up on the web of lies. It’s almost three hours after you arrive that you’re allowed to see your twin brother in the makeshift hospital room, even after you’ve being asking her nonstop. But she’s been too busy grilling Jungkook tirelessly, curiously cocking her head to one side when he said he didn’t like tea. She fucking hates him.

The air is tainted by the smell of bleach in here, but it’s not enough to steal your concentration. You’re here for a reason. Jungkook’s here for a reason.

You’re sitting beside your frail looking brother with a heart so full of pain that you fear it could burst. Feeling so helpless, so useless, so desperate for your mother to leave the room so Jungkook can do what he came here to do. Truthfully you don’t know if bringing him here was the right choice, but it was the only way he agreed to help Eddie.

Surprisingly he hasn’t mentioned your donations since the other night, and you’re grateful for that. You’re grateful that you didn’t follow through with your threat and that you’re still alive. No words have been uttered about what happened that night at Euphoria, it’s just another elephant in the room, much like the presence of the woman who birthed you.

“Mom why don’t you go make some more tea before we head back to our hotel?” You try, growing impatient.

As usual Eddie is unconscious, knocked out from the various medications he’s taking to help battle his undiagnosable terminal illness. All you need is to distract your mom long enough to give Jungkook the chance to do his thing. His thing being saving his life.

“I’ll go make us some more…” She agrees albeit a little sceptically, but not before glaring at Jungkook with pinched brows. “I’ll be right back.” No sooner than she leaves the room Jungkook is standing by your brother in the blink of an eye. Right, vampire speed.

“Well you were right about one thing, she definitely hates me.” Jungkook chuckles, leaning down to your brothers neck where he inhales his scent, a look of confusion blanketing his handsome features.

“Like you said you’re not here to impress her, hurry up.” You whisper. Perhaps you’re being too harsh on him recently, so he lied to you. But he’s also here with you right now, about to save your brother’s life with his own blood. However this situation came to be is irrelevant, he’s here now.

There’s a growing tension in the room, but not due to the obvious limited time frame. And for once the tension isn’t stemming from a deep-seeded illegal lust between you two. Jungkook’s dark hair is long, parted in the middle as it always is and dusting his eyes. But even that’s not enough to mask the worry and realisation that’s brimming behind them. He’s completely still, frozen, like he’s glued to the floor, weighed down by his thick frown.

“What’s wrong?” You panic, fearing the worst. In a frenzied moment of distain your head snaps to one of the monitors Eddie is hooked up to, a cocktail of joy and dread bubbling inside your chest upon seeing his heartbeat. He’s still alive, you exhale with relief. So why the hesitation?

“Jungkook.”

“Y/N…” He swallows, briefly wetting his lips, “We should leave.”

“No!” You whisper-shout, rising from the coral armchair, pointing at him, “You promised me, you fucking promised. Don’t you dare back out now, don’t you dare! Help him!” You plead, anxiety heightening when you hear the sound of footsteps making their way down the hallway.

Of course Jungkook makes it back to his seat in time, pulling your sleeve down with him so that you too are sitting by the time your mother opens the old dining room door. You glance at her, half confused when she’s not holding any tea, half infuriated that she’d been gone no longer than two minutes. One hundred and twenty seconds, that’s nowhere near long enough.

She doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t trust Jungkook.

“I’m all out of tea,” She admits, vaguely embarrassed, “Can I get you anything else? Jungkook? Would you finally like something to drink?” The way his name rolls off her tongue leaves a sour taste in your mouth, it’s as clear as the stars in the sky that she dislikes him. You feel… Annoyed. Which is hilarious, considering right now you don’t particularly like him either. Why the hell did he stop –

“No thank you,” Your fake boyfriend hums politely, ignoring the icy stare of your mom, “Actually I think we should get going to our hotel now, but it was lovely to meet you ma’am. And Eddie, of course. I know he’s always on Y/N’s mind, he means a lot to her.”

The underlying truth to his words makes you nauseous, a brutal reminder of the fact he can always read your thoughts. Wherever, whenever. As long as he’s in your space, he’s in your head. And dare you say it, a little in your heart too.

“Okay, will you be popping back in tomorrow before your flight home?” She asks, somewhat cockily. As though she knows she’s made him uncomfortable.

At this you sniff, winning their attention before loosely gripping Eddie’s hand and kissing the back of it, “I’ll let you know.”

There are moments in life when all rational goes out the window. Shattering the glass into teeny tiny pieces of rage and slicing anybody nearby. And when you get back to the motel, Jungkook locking the door behind you, this is one of those very moments.

“What the fuck Jungkook?!” You’re emotional, infuriated and disgusted in yourself for trusting him in the first place. “Why did you hesitate? You promised, you fucking promise—”

“Sit down.” He bites, nostrils flared and chest puffed up like a predator looking at its prey. Actually there is no like about it, that’s exactly what’s happening.

The motel room is cheap and cheerful, eccentrically decorated and you’re certain the walls between adjacent rooms must be very thin. You don’t want to make a scene, nor do you want to entertain a battle you will no doubt lose. So you submit to his demand, body practically vibrating with rage bubbling at the surface.

“Your brother can’t be saved.”

“You said a drop of your blood could cure any human—”

“Exactly. Any human disease.” The way Jungkook emphasises the word human sends a pang of dread straight to your stomach lining. Your heart quickens, he can sense it too, you can tell by the way the masculine bump of his throat bobs up and down when he swallows uncomfortably.

There’s a pause, you barely register Jungkook turning on a nearby lamp you’re so lost in thought, “What… What are you saying?”

You feel numb when he sits beside you, tossing his leather jacket to the ground, “So that’s why you smell different to others…” He hums, mulling over his own thoughts, “You and your brother, you’re cursed.”

“Cursed? What so we’re not human? Is that why he’s sick?!” You’re frantic, paranoid and scared all at once. “What do you mean? What, what’s happening to him? Why do I—”

“It’s the curse of the Pi Gasu.” He says, as though you have any inkling of what he’s talking about – you do not.

“Jungkook I don’t know what that means.”

“How much do you know about your father?” His brows knit inquisitively, he’s so transfixed by his own thought process that he’s not looking at you. Instead, he lays back on the motel bed, crossing his legs and staring at the ceiling.

“I… He was an asshole, he beat my mom and me and Eddie—”

“He hurt you?” With that the vampire sits up straight, back so stiff that he looks as though he’s been purposely posed that way, eyes wide and brimming with rage so much so the ghoulish tinge of red appears. “Where is he?”

“He left us when I was young… I don’t know. I don’t care about him, tell me why you can’t save my brother even though you promised me you would.” The desperation in your tone is unmissable, you crumple forward, clutching your aching chest. Leaving Jungkook to stare at your back hopelessly. With your elbows to your knees, head in your hands, you well up with tears.

“There’s a reason a vampire mating with a human is illegal,” He begins, wanting to reach out and comfort you with his hands down your back, but he refrains, “Not just because it’s dangerous for the human. Our inhumane strength and uncontrollable lust that kicks in when we’re aroused means that there’s very few humans that live through the ordeal. But it’s worse for the ones who do.”

You sniffle, turning your head to face him. Trying to piece together how this has anything to do with your brother. But you let him continue, holding his intense gaze with a racing heart.

“The ones who survive have a higher chance of conceiving, because of our supernatural powers it’s almost always a guaranteed pregnancy even if protection is used. So… What can happen is something called the curse of the Pi Gasu. It translates to blood singer in Korean, which is where my kind are said to originate from, long before the tales of Count Dracula and Edward Cullen.” He scoffs, fighting to urge to roll his eyes.

“It can only happen in biological twins with one human parent, one vampire. As you can imagine it’s exceptionally rare, there aren’t many humans who survive a night with one of us. The DNA splits itself in the womb, one twin will remain human and the other will be cursed to a life like mine once they reach transition. It usually happens around the age of twenty five.”

“It’s called the Pi Gasu curse because the other twin, the human twin, is cursed too. The way they smell, the way they look… Everything about them is irresistible to a vampire. It’s the universes way of restoring balance in the world for creating a born predator… The curse births the ultimate prey too. Their scent changes the same time as their twins transition. There’s nothing I can do, your brother’s in his transition.”

Your jaw turns slack, a cold shiver running your spine while you try to process everything that he’s saying. Thinking as far back as you can remember you can’t recall your father ever leaving the house in the day time, he was a drunk, he used to stay home and sleep all day to recover from his nightly alcoholic antics. But to accuse him of being a creature of the night? To accuse your mother, however twisted she may be, of mating with one?

Is that why she hates vampires so much? Is that why Eddie’s disease is undiagnosable?

“T-there’s… There’s no way.” You’re speechless, blood running ice cold.

“Y/N I caught his scent, I know this is hard to process but it’s his destiny to be a vampire. Just as much as it’s your destiny to be killed by one.” There’s a sadness lingering in the air, but it all starts to make some kind of senseless sense to you.

“When will it happen…?” You whisper, eyes fluttering shut, “If what you're saying is true when will he turn?”

Jungkook clears his throat, pushing himself to your body until he’s close enough to cup your cheeks in his large palms. As always, there are so many lost words behind his features. So many possible outcomes of what will tumble from those tempting lips of his, but nothing, nothing could’ve prepared you for the truth.

“The transition will be complete the moment you die.”

“No.” You shake your head, frowning, “There has to be another way…”

“In my experience it’s the only way to end his suffering.” Jungkook murmurs, pulling you even closer until he’s cradling you in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

You curl up to his strong chest sobbing, squeezing him tightly. And so it was written that Eddie would be cursed to an immortal life, a life that you know he hates the mere idea of because of how your mother had raised you. In addition to that, the only way to save him from his endless pain and suffering is for you to be killed. Truthfully you’ve never felt as though your life served much purpose, if any at all. You can’t help but ponder if this has been the reason why, if your soul has known this all along.

“How do you know there’s no other way?”

“Because it was the same for me. My twin sister… She-, the night she was killed was the night I turned. The day after our twenty-sixth birthday. And I’ve lived with that burden for almost eight hundred years.” His sombre tone catches you off guard, this is the first time he’s ever delved into his personal human life. It’s a bittersweet moment.

"Pi Gasu vampires are different from bitten ones. We were born for this life so we're stronger, we can sense human emotions and the venom from our bite is excruciatingly painful to humans... It's why I don't feed from the vein."

Jungkook plants a kiss to your temple before he speaks again, “But we’ll find another way—”

“No… I don’t want my brother to be in pain anymore.” You admit with a deflated sigh, accepting your fate. Nothing compares to how you feel for your brother. No amount of friendship, no amount of hurt, joy or love would ever compare. He’s your twin brother, and you’ll do whatever it takes for him to survive this. Even if you don’t.

“I’ve told you before, your life is everything to me. I’m not going to lose you. Not in this life, not in any life. I would endure a thousand more miserable lifetimes, a thousand different worlds with endless sorrow, if it meant in just one I could find you. And I have, I'm not prepared to let you go.”

“You’re only saying this because of the curse.” You pull back, almost nose-to-nose with Jungkook who’s wearing the faintest hint of a smile. “If this is all true… The only reason you’re drawn to me is because of some stupid curse.”

“No,” He shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours, “The curse may be the reason I want to kill you. But your soul is the reason I haven't.”

“My soul.” You chuckle, the prospect of having one now you know you were destined to die is both comical and fascinating to you. What’s the point in having a soul it ultimately you would always end up here.

Why is it the closer we get to death, the more we desire to live?

Jungkook looks you dead in the eye, your thoughts clouding his own. He tightens his hold of you, his pierced lips a hair away from yours when he uses words to comfort you. But all they do is break your heart tenfold, because deep down you know he’s right.

“I know you feel this too… Sometimes it’s not the butterflies that tell you you’re in love, rather the pain.”

x

[cxffeereid]

You have a “growth”, and his name is Eddie.

Soft!Eddie Munson x GN! Reader

Warnings: Implied smut (no actual smut)

Overview: A cute morning with Eddie after being away from him.

AN: This is my first fan fic I am posting of Eddie! I have more to come as well, I hope you all like this cute fluffy one shot! <3

Word Count: 762

You and Eddie finally get together after you both confirmed your feelings for each other in a very drunken state at Steve’s house party a few months back.

Now you are both glued together, one isn’t far from the other. Always together, never apart for more than a day until you were. You were out on a family business trip, and unfortunately Eddie couldn’t come. Now you are back, he is clinging onto you for dear life.

The night you came home from the trip, Eddie was already waiting to pick you up to take you back to your second home, he missed you that much. In the morning, you woke up in-tangled with your boyfriend's tall frame and had to use the bathroom. After freeing most of your body, you left the bed but a pair of sleepy arms grabbed your waist.

“Where are you going.. it’s so warm and nice here.. please come back..” He pouted as his face was covered by most of his hair. “I haven’t been able to sleep like that in weeks..” He sounded so sad, sleepy that your heart melted.

You giggled, looking at him in awh and sat back into the bed. He gently rubbed your hip as he laid his head on the pillow, looking at you through his hair.

“I need to pee babe.. and food, I’ll cook us something real good..” You get up again, as he huffs slowly getting out of bed himself to light up a cigarette. You opened his bedroom door to see Wayne already up, as you slipped into the bathroom.

As you were leaving the bathroom, Eddie quickly reattached himself to your waist and his chin on your shoulder.

“Good morning, Wayne! Been a few weeks since I saw you last..” You chuckle as Eddie mumbled. It was probably about how long you were away for.

“Good morning, sweet. How did you sleep? and yeah, your father told me about his trip before you left.” Wayne said as he looked up from his newspaper.

He continued to say; “and I see you have a growth on you… called Eddie” He chucked at his joke as you do too. Eddie groans slightly, biting you a little.

“Hey now.. I know you are hungry but don’t bite me..”

“That’s not what you said last-” Eddie was cut off before he could continue.

“Breakfast! Would you like anything cooked? I was thinking of making waffles and pancakes” You offered Wayne as you reached a hand around to play with Eddie’s bedhead.

Wayne chuckled at the fact you shut down that statement, and how his nephew was acting like a cat with you petting his hair. You were also sure that he was gently purring like one too.

Wayne declined the polite offer as he was going out early this morning. Eddie’s position still holding your waist, looking at his uncle.

“Eddie baby, as much as I love you clinging onto me, I need to get ready for making our breakfast” He nodded and let go, sitting near his uncle as he fixed his bedhead.

You walked back into the bedroom to find your socks as you forgot to put them on before going to the toilet, as your feet were getting a little cold.

“I’m real happy for ya, Ed..” Wayne smiled at his nephew as he pats his back, getting up and heading for the door. “You treat ‘em well and keep ‘em. You only met someone like that once..” Eddie nodded and smiled.

“Oh, they are stuck with me until the end of time.” Wayne leaves the trailer as you came out from the bedroom with your socks on now. Eddie just looked at you, hungry but it wasn’t for food.

“Aww, is he gone now? I love talking to your uncle. It’s one of my favourite past times when you are still sleeping” You pouted, playing with the hem of the oversized Metallica t-shirt you stole as pyjamas.

Eddie wandered over to you, acting all innocent until he grabbed you by your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder. He kicked open his door, and flopped you onto the bed, pinning his arms over your head.

You yelped his name in surprise from the sudden moment but before you said anything else, he kissed you deeply. His hands were exploring your body like it was for the first time again.

“Now.. real breakfast time, your dungeon master is hungry..” He uses his leg to kick the bedroom door closed.

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Rarepair headcanons because I am ignoring my problems

Serodeku:

Izuku reenacts the Spider-Man movies with Sero. Izuku is MJ. They also alternate being Spider-Man sometimes

They skate together

They get very protective when people call their boyfriend “plain”

They play dnd together

Sero tries to make sure that izuku gets some rest

They’re both kinda insecure, izuku more than sero, but still; and they make sure to reassure each other as often as possible

Sero likes listening to Izuku’s ramblings and finds them cute. He has told izuku this, only for the poor boy to imitate a tomato

After Izuku has been particularly reckless, Sero takes advantage of his quirk, wraps Izuku in bubble wrap, and tapes it there

Tokodeku:

Jocknerd bf and goth bf, we love to see it

Tokoyami teaches izuku how to sword fight

They start a dnd club at U.A.

Izuku talks to dark shadow a lot, Dark Shadow approves of him, and has claimed the spot of best man at their wedding

Izuku comes up with ideas to help Tokoyami gain control with Dark Shadow

Dark Shadow is very protective over Izuku, no matter how many times Tokoyami tells him that he can take care of himself, Dark Shadow will put himself between Izuku and any form of danger as often as possible

Dekoyama??? Aoyama/izuku:

Aoyama gives him makeovers, obviously

Aoyama drags izuku to the mall and tries to revamp some of his wardrobe, but he actually finds the “pants” and “flannel” type shirts cute

They help each other train their quirks

Aoyama is trilingual, and teaching izuku English and French.

Izuku always brings Aoyama home some new cheese

Y’all, I love them so much. There needs to be more aodeku content

Monoshinsou:

They have people watching dates. They come up with stories for the people they’re watching; their job, family, background, etc.

They judge people together

They call each other “love”

They’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They jokingly sh*t-talk class A

Shinsou said “I love you” first, and it was because Monoma brought him coffee to class

Monoyama:

Like monoshinsou, they’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They go shopping together and pick out the most dramatic pieces of clothing for each other

I love them so much, please 😭✋

They have tea parties every week, where they sh*t talk everyone else and gossip

They are both fancy bastards, and they wear the most exquisite outfits to go grocery shopping, and the outshine everyone

They both actually make clothing, they’ll go fabric shopping together. Gift exchanges are often articles of clothing that they’ve made for each other

Momomei:

They work on gear together!!!

Momo makes sure that mei gets some sleep

Mei helps redesign momo’s suit

They often work together with izuku to work in gear and such

They actually got together after izuku introduced them. He had been working on gear with mei, and studying with momo and he thought they’d hit it off. He was correct

Shintsuyu:

Dude they’d be so cute

Tsu is a vent gremlin, and you can’t change my mind. So she and shinsou will play a game where they try to find each other. Tsu is in the vent and shinsou is in the classrooms. Shinsou will try to find whichever vent she’s in, or she’ll find whichever classroom he’s in, in 20 minutes or less

I always headcanoned tsu as a dog person, so they’d have two cats and two dogs, and a bunny that they named Deku

They like comparing their friends to animals, hence the bunny, Deku

Kamideku:

Kaminari is a flirt, and izuku does n o t know how to handle it

Kaminari likes listening to izuku’s ramblings, and can keep up with them. He’ll ask questions on things too, and Izuku has never felt more appreciated

I don’t know why I feel like they’d have so many animals, but I do. They’d have so many, man. Three cats, two dogs, four sugar gliders, a hamster

Adhd power couple. They hyperfixated on complimentary things at the same time one time

Kaminari tutors izuku in English, and izuku turots kami in some other subjects. He’s also teaching kami JSL on the side. Kaminari has a live of languages

Momochako:

Study dates, Momo asks ochako to quiz her a lot

Ochako takes to floating momo’s things when she wants attention. Especially when Momo is studying. She makes a game out of how many things she can float until the other girl notices

Uraraka’s confidence does wonders for momo’s. Uraraka always makes sure to reassure momo that she is strong and that she can do this

Momo makes Uraraka whatever her heart desires. Uraraka blushes all the time, and momo takes great pride in getting her girlfriend to blush

Minatoru:

Mina clings to everyone, but especially to toru

They give each other stuffed animals so often. They’ll go to the store to get food, and come back with three stuffed animals that reminded them of each other

Please, they’re so cute 😭✋

They will play hide and seek, I stand by this.

Mina helps toru design a new costume. I hate hers, it’s horrible, and sexist, and not suitable for a fucking child

Toru says that pink is her favorite color

They flirt with each other all the time. Half the class thinks it’s cute, half of them used to think it was cute.

Iidamomo:

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but study dates. they quiz each other, and it actually gets pretty competitive

They also have rage room dates. I will not budge on this. Iida tried to murder someone, and I am excited to see momo finally snap. She deserves it

They alternate paying for dates, don’t try me.

The go hiking a lot

They started liking each other after one late night, both having nightmares. Momo had tea, and offered some to Iida. They talked until the early hours of the morning

They can’t flirt. They try. But they’re horrible at it. They’ll compliment each other all day long, but they cannot flirt.

KIRIDEKU, MY BELOVED:

Y’all,,, y’all, I love them so much

They train together, obviously

They ran into each other one night in the common room after both having nightmares. They talked about middle school, how they were both bullied, izuku’s quirk coming in late, katsuki being abusive, kiri being bullied because his quirk wasn’t “cool.” After that, they were practically inseparable.

They started going on dates, not that either of them knew they were dates. The entire class knew, so did the teachers, so did the rest of U.A. Kirishima picked up on it first after a comment from Mina, he had is realization.

So, he started courting Izuku. Not thag izuku realized this. He brought him flowers on most ‘dates,’ he bought him hero action figures whenever he could, he complimented him until Izuku was red in the face (which was honestly very easy.) Still, izuku remained ignorant to the fact that he was indeed dating Kirishima.

The final tipping point, was due to Uraraka’s help. She was quite tired of watching the two of them pine for each other. It was amusing for the first couple months, watching Kirishima try so hard, and Deku being totally oblivious. However, she took pity on her friends after a while.

So, Uraraka devised a devilish plan to get the two together. She involved Mina, Sero, and kaminari in this plan. What was the plan, you ask? Oh, simply to trap the two in one room until they broke through izuku’s obliviousness.

Kirishima finally “straight” up admitted his feelings, to which Izuku had the sudden realization of “oh my gods, have we been dating this whole time??” Yes, Izuku. Yes you have.

They have two anniversaries after that.

Let’s be honest, they are really, annoyingly, horrifically lovey dovey. Kirishima brags about having “the manliest and bestest boyfriend in the world.” Izuku flaunts his many PowerPoint presentations on how talented and incredible Kirishima is

Uraraka doesn’t know if she did the right thing by helping them. She is so tired

Tsujirou:

Jirou makes playlists for tsu

The few sane ones in class A, I swear

They go on walks in the rain as often as they can

They go for dates in the bookstore too. They each pick out an album and a book for the other to listen to and read

Y’all, they make so much sense togetherrrrr, I’m love them 🥺

Jirou started liking tsu after the crew saved bakugou. Jirou sat with tsu after momo, Iida, kirishima, Todoroki, and izuku apologized and sat with her. They had movie night, and Jirou joined the Bakugou saving crew and tsu with taking well into the night. She just appreciated how much tsu cared

Tsu started liking Jirou after she helped Iida, momo, and izuku try to keep the class in order. She appreciated how diplomatic and calm she was

Jirou would talk to izuku all night long about how gay she was, and how adorable tsu was. So, izuku decided to try and suggest ways for Jirou to ask her out.

She did not end up getting to ask her out though, as Tsu walked up to her the next morning f and asked if she wanted to go on a date. Jirou said yes. Izuku cried

Izujirou:

They make playlists for each other

They go for runs on the beach a lot

They both have insomnia, and often spend time making blanket forts and talking, or FaceTiming and listening to music

Jirou walks into the common room once a week looking for new music. She started liking Izuku after he made a playlist for her for one of these occasions.

They’re both quite awkward when it comes to romance, but neither of them will shy away from facing the truth. So, Jirou made izuku a playlist filled with love songs that reminded her of him and sent it to him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou wrote a love song and told izuku that the song was for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou write analysis about izuku’s quirk for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell

So, then, after thinking that Jirou had done so much for him, izuku made her a playlist filled with love songs. Jirou took this to mean that izuku had finally picked up on her feelings, and accepted them.

So, they started to go on dates. Not that izuku knew this, as he is dense as hell. All leading up to izuku finally confessing his feelings on one of their ‘dates,’ to which Jirou responded, “dude, we’re already dating? Aren’t we? I- I thought that was obvious??”

May this awkward couple be forever blessed

Tokoyama:

Goth/prep boyfriends, we love to see it

At least once a day, Aoyama will proclaim that Tokoyami “shines almost as bright as he does, in his fabulous emo way”

They sword fight, and come up with really dramatic scenarios and scenes that they’re in

They bond over being in the izucrew and their shared love of swords. Aoyama took fencing classes in middle school, and Tokoyami got into sword fighting after watching it in pirates of the Caribbean as a young child. He is self taught and watched countless videos on the art of sword fighting

Tokoyami asked Aoyama our by dramatically presenting him with a dagger and going “will you accompany me on a formal outing as my lover?”

Shinyama:

They flirt constantly

No really, it’s getting quite annoying. Someone please stop them.

They both plop down in random areas and proclaim their deaths, the difference between them, is that Aoyama will burst into shinsou’s room, and yell “love, I’ve been murdered. Mourn for me” while plopping down on shinsou’s lap. Shinsou can be found laying face down outside aoyama’s door, and when Aoyama goes to open the door, he just goes “I’ve been murdered.”

^^ one time, shinsou did a very fun Halloween prank for this, where he poured fake blood all over himself for Aoyama to find him an hour later, asleep.

Nap dates. Aoyama get glitter all over shinsou’s room

Iiyama:

Aoyama enjoys making Iida blush, obviously. But he takes joy in doing it specifically when class is about to start. Aizawa is tired of his shit

Here is how I think an iiyama conversation might go:

Aoyama: I ask for one thing in this relationship-

Iida: Aoyama, you know that’s a lie-

Aoyama: for my boyfriend to carry me around all day-

Iida: Aoyama, I cannot feasibly do this with class-

Aoyama: and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for 😤

Anyway, Aoyama got carried around all day that day, despite Iida’s blush and Aizawa’s eye twitch

Everyone in the izucrew is close, but Iida and Aoyama started to get close after Iida told the crew about Stain. Aoyama wanted Iida to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he wanted to help him. So he started packing extra cheese for lunch and giving it to Iida. Iida was very confused at first. But this was Aoyama trying to court him. This was only made apparent by momo and Jirou telling Iida that this was aoyama’s attempt at expressing romantic interest.

Aoyama flirts with everyone, that’s just who he is. But with Iida? Oh it was tenfold. The poor boy was red in the face constantly. Aoyama was a persistent little bugger too, following him around and calling him ‘mon amour’

Kirikamideku:

My dearest traffic light trio, I’m love them

They train together, and kiri and kami always appreciate izuku’s analysis snd ideas

Kiri falls even more in love with izuku and kaminari when they go off on rants. Izuku rants and kami can keep up with him so he asks questions about it. Kiri loves to watch his boyfriends go on rants, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them

They started to get closer after kami and kiri found bakugou causing a ptsd flashback (could be on purpose of an accident, up to the reader.) they stated with him and tried to talk him through it. After this, izuku started to tell them about having been a “late bloomer” and being bullied, etc. (I don’t know, man; I tend to over share after flashbacks and after panic attacks)

Izuku tutors them in several subjects, but kami tutors them in English. Kiri just falls in love with his smart boyfriends

Izuku is teaching kami JSL and kami is helping izuku with English and Italian (personal headcanon that Italian has been one of kami’s special interests) kiri loves to listen to them, and finds it relaxing and calming to hear them do this. When he has panic attacks, he’ll ask them to tutor each other in different languages

[pastelwitchling]

Maybe it was the fever, maybe it was the fear that he was actually experiencing illness for the first time in his life, or maybe it was the fact that he’d already wanted Alex at his side badly enough before, but now that he was going through all of this the want was excruciating, but Michael was losing his mind.

Waking up to unbearable heat, Michael reached across the empty side of the bed, wrapping his arm around Alex’s pillow and pulling it in against his body. It cooled the suffocating warmth of his skin, and Michael groaned, hitching his legs around it as well, stuffing his face into the fabric and inhaling what lingered of Alex’s scent. The next time Alex had to go anywhere – if Michael let him go at all, as he was starting to realize that he really sucked at being away from him – Michael was going to make sure to pound him into the mattress until his scent and sweat was stuck onto the sheets for weeks.

He settled for clinging to Alex’s pillow now, breathing as much of him in as possible. Someone opened the front door.

“Alex,” he murmured on an exhale, brows furrowed. He imagined his beautiful boyfriend running in, panicked after having heard Michael was sick and quick to drop everything. He would come in, check Michael’s temperature, and not even worry because he would be too busy kissing Michael and promising that he would figure out how to fix everything.

“Nope,” another voice said, and Michael deflated. “Sorry.”

Michael groaned, turning his face into the pillow. “Go away, Valenti.”

“I have to take your blood for Liz,” he said, and sat on the nightstand at Michael’s side. “You want to let go of the pillow for a sec?”

“Not really.”

“Give me your arm, cowboy.”

Michael heaved a sigh, his breath like fire against his cheeks. He threw back his arm, almost hitting Kyle in the face. Kyle only scoffed in response.

Michael raised a brow. “You’re in a good mood.”

“Hm?” he blushed. “Oh, not really. Just a regular day.”

Michael stared. “Is Alex back in town?”

“Wouldn’t you be the first to know about that?”

He swallowed, slumping back down. Kyle chuckled under his breath. He really was in a good mood. “Wow, you really miss Alex, huh?”

Michael ignored him for several long seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore. “You hear from him lately?”

“No, I haven’t,” he said, then paused, as if the realization was just hitting him. “But I mean, that’s not really weird. He left for an entire year once, remember?”

Michael shut his eyes tight. “Shut up, Valenti.”

Kyle sighed. “It’s okay to miss your own boyfriend, you know.” He grabbed his stuff and closed his bag. “Dare I say, nice. I’ll grab you some more water. Just look at photos of him on your phone or something till I get back.”

“Ha ha,” Michael said, though Kyle seemed to be genuine.

Little did he know, however, Michael had not dared be away from his phone since Alex had first left the house. He pulled it out from where he’d fallen asleep with it under his cheek and checked his messages and calls for what felt like the millionth time, hoping a new one would magically reappear. He licked his lower lip, trying to swallow but his throat was like sandpaper, and pulled up Alex’s number.

He got Alex’s voicemail, and shut his eyes. He’s fine, he told himself. Stop assuming the worst. He’s fine.

“Baby,” he murmured, curling into the phone, Alex’s scent from the pillow engulfing him. “I’m still sick, and I hate it. I miss you. I . . . I need you. I know you’re busy, but . . .” he sighed, pressing his face to the screen, the touch of it like ice against his skin. “I really need you. And I want you here. I want you to kiss me and protect me from this because I . . . I’m kind of scared, Private –”

BEEEEEEEEEP!

Michael clenched his jaw, holding the phone up to stare at Alex’s name. “You’re fine,” he murmured. “You’re okay. I’m overreacting.”

This was Alex, he told himself. He was always fine.

This is Alex, a thought agreed. And would Alex ever ignore you? Has the rest of the world ever mattered to him more than you?

Michael slowly sat up, looking up Eduardo’s number. He was trying to reassure himself, to tell himself everything was fine, that he was worried for nothing. But those reassurances fell short because the simple fact was that he knew Alex. He’d always known Alex, he’d known that he had been Alex’s priority since they were seventeen.

Alex wouldn’t ignore his calls. If he was able to, he would’ve been here the second Michael had woken up after passing out. If Alex was able to, he would’ve come running, because that was what he always did.

“Guerin?” Kyle asked as he came in with a glass of water. “What’re you doing, you shouldn’t be getting out of bed!”

But Michael was already stumbling out of the room, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Grab your keys,” he said, “and call your uncle. We’re going to Deep Sky.”

“Whoa whoa,” Kyle grabbed his shoulders, keeping him steady, concern etched into the furrow of his brow. “Michael, you can’t go anywhere, you have a fever!”

Michael pushed his hands away, reaching for his boots. “Something’s wrong with Alex, Valenti.”

“What?” he frowned, startled. “How do you know?”

Michael felt for the spaceship glass he’d kept hung around his neck since he’d found out he was sick, needing any connection to Alex he had.

“I can feel it.”