#i managed to hold out to midnight my time but became impatient to wait until morning like usual haha

[captains-simp]

Hi bestieeee, congratulations on 1K!!! I have a request for you!! Mommy!Nat or Dark!Nat blackmailing R into sex or else R would be fired?? Thank you

I wonder who this request is from?🤔

2.8k words

Warnings: dub-con (bordering on non-con), coercion, blackmail, unhealthy power dynamic, oral sex (giving), praise, strap on sex and cum filled strap on

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You knew Natasha was coming before you saw her; before you even heard the chilling sound of her heels against the polished floors of the 46th level. You knew because you saw it in your coworkers eyes. You saw the way they cowered behind their desks and averted their eyes or made a swift exit from the area entirely. You knew because that was just how it worked at Romanoff Industries.

You were lucky enough to have your own office. Well, that should have made you lucky in avoiding Natasha's piercing gaze but it did not. Most of the time she stalked down the area outside your office she came straight to you and even if it wasn't her destination she would be sure to look in as she went by.

That was one of your less fortunate days, she was coming to see you and it wasn't to deliver a compliment about your hard work. Your boss let herself into your office without knocking and strolled over to your desk, her hips swaying in the mesmerising way they always did in those incredibly tight skirts.

"What happened to that report that was meant to be sent to me hours ago?" She demanded as she stood in front of your desk.

"Apparently someone picked up on some faults of the latest design so we can't do anything right now." You tried to explain but Natasha never did like excuses. "I don't know when it will be fixed." You continued.

"And you didn't think to tell me this?" Natasha glared.

"I thought someone would have told you." You were right, a lot of someone's had told the redhead, but apparently she needed to hear it from you too. "It's not my job to." You couldn't help but add. You knew Natasha hated when people pointed out things she didn't want to hear, more so when they did so confidently. You were one of the few who managed it, maybe that was why Natasha seemed to have it out for you. It was just a compulsion to you, to one up your boss. Even if it rarely succeeded.

You had always had mixed feelings about Natasha. Sometimes you thought when she went home at night she venturer into some cave that led to the pits of hell where she returned to her rightful throne. Other times that tough and stubborn show she put on was nothing short of admirable. There was no doubt it was what got her her success and therefore gave you a job. It was just hard to deal with when it was aimed at you individually, or what you could argue felt like personally.

"Don't give me that." She snapped. You were aware of all the eyes of your coworkers looking in on the pair of you and hanging on every word that was exchanged.

"You know full fucking well if something you're doing is going to be delayed you tell me." She was leaning both hands on your desk and leaning over to get closer to you. With such a short distance between you you had no choice but to stare back into her forest green eyes, like hell you were going to look away and back down.

"You can write that fucking report anyway. I want it on my desk today." Today? There was no way you could get that done in office hours, you would have to be working long past when you were meant to usually go home. "And when the design has been fixed you can write another one on it." She was testing you, willing you to say something you would regret. You weren't going to fall into her trap.

"Okay." You said, holding her gaze.

She didn't say anything else. Natasha stood there for another few seconds to watch you, waiting for something, anything. Then she stood back up straight and headed towards the door that she slammed closed behind her and marched back to her own luxury office.

That could have been an email.

*

It was approaching midnight when you finished the report. You were about to email it to Natasha when you remembered she wanted it in paper form so you begrudgingly sent it off to the printer.

It was a waste of paper you thought as you trudged over to the elevator that quickly arrived as there was no one else in the building. You figured Natasha just wanted to be that extra bit difficult. Well, you knew that was what she was trying to do.

You had worked with Natasha for longer than most, you knew her. Or rather, you knew the front she painted. You knew what annoyed her, what she wanted, what she thought of certain people and you could predict how she would conduct business down to the exact price tag of a product. But you didn't know her personally, sometimes you wondered if there was anyone who did.

You knocked on your bosses door and waited until she called for you to come in. You planned to simply walk in, put the paper on her desk and walk out to go home but once you were several steps past the door Natasha called for you to close it.

She didn't look up at you as you trudged across the ridiculously big office and put the papers down. It was only when you turned around that she spoke again.

"Stay." Was all said. You bite back a comment about not being a dog.

You turned back around and expected some speech and your attitude earlier but continued making notes on a design plan like you weren't even in the room. A few minutes of you fidgeting on your feet and looking around the office for anything interesting, Natasha picked up your report and leaned back in her chair to read it. She showed no signs that you had done a good or bad job with the report.

Finally, she put the paper down on her desk and went back to the plans. "Close the door behind you." Was all she said. You clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes once turned around to finally leave and go home.

"Don't roll your eyes at me, y/n."

*

Turns out it wasn't as simple as writing two reports. Design after design failed. First there was a slight issue with the batteries, then the shape, then it somehow became a liability. You mentioned all these faults in your reports, as you legally had to, but it became tedious very quickly. You always hated paperwork. It was meant to be such a small part of your job. You could only hope the sudden increase was temporary, especially as it wasn't exactly one of your strengths.

You continued to work over time and met Natasha late at night, always having to wait until she finished reading till you could leave. You thought you had to be doing at least a good job with them for your boss to never say anything, because she was always ready to point out small errors. That was until one particular night.

"These reports are getting worse." Natasha scolded. The comment made your blood boil. They were certainly not getting worse, maybe the designs were but you knew it was no fault of yours.

"The designs don't work." You fired back and crossed your arms. You had been worked tirelessly on those reports and they only stated the facts.

"Do you even care about your job, y/n?" Natasha asked seriously, angering you more.

"I've sacrificed more than I ever thought I could for a job for this company."

"You're on thin fucking ice, l/n. With the way things are going I'd be in a right mind to fire you." ...what the fuck?!

"What?" It came out as more of a whisper. After everything that you had done for the company and the years you had spent there, Natasha wouldn't really fire you, would she?

"Unless you're willing to make up for it all." She said seriously with something unmistakably dark in her tone.

"I don't more extra hours than anyone here." You said, not knowing what else she could mean.

"Not more than me, something takes quite the toll. I can hardly fit the time in to distress anymore. That's where you come in." Natasha explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered around to the other side of the desk, the sound of her heels clicking echoing around the room.

There was a long moment of silence when Natasha left barely any space between you. You searched her eyes for any hint of what she was referring to but inevitably found nothing. Until she suddenly pushed you down onto your knees in front of her.

"Show me what other skills you have and maybe I'll consider letting you stay." She smirked down at you and ran the back of her hand across your cheek before cupping your jaw. "Entirely your call."

"Natasha this is crazy." You tried to reason but it was hard to ignore the faint throbbing you felt from being on your knees for her. "I could tell someone." For the first time ever, you heard her laugh. She threw her head back in a mocking laugh that soon turned into taunting chuckles.

"Y/n, who would believe you over me? You can be my guest and try but you'll never have another job in this city again, maybe further if I feel like it." She shrugged. You gulped and felt your breathing shake. Fuck.

Natasha, apparently impatient, hiked up her skirt and leant back against her desk to look at you expectantly. Your mouth suddenly went dry when you caught sight of her bare pussy, having not had any underwear on. You wondered if she often sat around like that. If she sauntered around the building and into your office where you could easily let your fingers wander up her skirt. Did she always leave them off for you?

"If you want to keep your job I suggest you get to work." She spoke. You tentatively moved forward and gripped onto her thighs for support, still looking up at her for any signs of a tell.

She was positively soaked. You could see her clenching in anticipation, the sight and musky smell entirely inviting. So you licked a long strip of the redhead's folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her. Sweetness was hardly what you expected given the tough and cold exterior of your boss, you hadn't expected it to be so instantly addictive either.

You pushed your tongue further inside the redhead who gave a breathy moan in response. At that, your mind was made. You sucked harshly on Natasha's clit and felt it pulse rapidly between your lips before returning your tongue to where she needed it most.

"Look at how much you're enjoying this." Natasha smirked as she looked down at the beyond contented glint in your eyes. "So good at pleasing you like mommy."

You worked your tongue tirelessly inside her, spurred on by the blissful sounds that fell from the redhead's mouth with every flick and curl of your muscle. You were lost in the incomparable taste of her and hoped it would be something that lingered on your tongue for a while. You were in awe of the way her mouth hung open in a silent scream as her eyes clenched shut every time your tongue brushed against some beautiful nerve ending. The sounds she made when you did so rivalled the faux sweetness of a siren's song. You knew the dangers of being lulled too far but you wanted to explore it entirely, convinced there was some hidden beauty that no one else could see.

"Fuck, so good." Your grip on Natasha's thigh tightened when her hold on the back of your neck did. She started to buck her hips against your mouth and her breathing patterns became more irregular. Your boss seemed lost in the pleasure she was experiencing from you as her eyes shut firmly and her movements became more erratic. But even then she held onto her power over you.

"I want you to swallow every last fucking drop." She ordered and gasped when your nose bumped against her clit. You picked up the pace of your tongue, making sure to swipe it against all the spots you had learnt made her shudder.

Her nails were practically digging into your neck when she reached her high. Her breath got caught in her throat before she gave the most animalistic moan you had ever heard. She furiously bucked her hips against your face as she rode out her high and relished in every wave of pleasure.

She recovered impressively quickly and was still raring to go, apparently having more plans for the night. She smiled down at you with a glint of the devil in her eye as she stood back and turned around to retrieve something from her desk, telling you to sit on her chair.

You were anticipating Natasha to return the favour, especially given how much she clearly enjoyed what you had to offer. Instead, she slipped a harness through your legs and pulled it up to your waist where she fastened it to sit securely. It was only when she moved away that you saw the size of the red toy, standing proudly and daringly. You wouldn't be surprised if your boss couldn't make it fit, yet again about to see that you really didn't know her. She was unpredictable and nothing short of it.

Natasha straddled your legs until her knees hit the backrest of her chair and her cunt was lined up with the toy. You went to hold her waist to guide her but your boss grabbed your wrists harshly and pinned them to the chair either side of you with a warning look.

She lowered herself onto the toy and groaned when the head of the toy alone started to stretch her. She kept her strong grip on your wrists as she looked more of the strap and you could only watch on in awe as the fake cock disappeared inside her.

Natasha moaned loudly and paused half way to adjust herself and breathe heavily before slamming herself down on the rest of the toy. "God." She grunted. "Mommy feels so full."

"Let me help you mommy." You tried but she shook her head.

"You don't get to touch right now." Was all she said before she lifted herself partly off the toy and slammed back down drawing another beautiful moan.

Your boss continued this for a while until she found herself in a rhythm that pleasured her deeply. You could see her juices smeering the toy everytime she withdrew and the sight alone made you groan, you already wanted to taste her again.

She rode you with vigor as her pace increased as did her grip on you. Profanities spilled from her mouth like a song that you wanted to join in with but you were too fixated on the sight infront of you. Natasha's bra clearly wasn't all that supportive because her breasts bounced with each thrust downwards and you wished more than anything that you could reach out and take her top and bra off to cup them, even tweak her nipples between your fingers to see her squeal.

"Gonna cum- fuck! Mommy's gonna cum on your cock and you're going to fill me up more." She said between moans and gasps. You didn't really understand what she meant by fill her up more but you weren't going to object, not when you wanted to see her cum again so badly.

She suddenly let your right hand go and grabbed on to the back of the harness. You were confused until you felt something click and Natasha was moaning louder than she had all night. "Your cum feels so good in me." She all but screamed before jerking her hips wildly and cumming around the toy.

She fell forwards slightly and grinded against the toy to ride out her high desperately. You gripped her hips with your free hand and moaned when you saw some of the cum leaking out of Natasha's pussy.

With a groan, you pulled your other hand out of the redhead's grasp and lifted her up and down onto her desk where she looked up at you with blissful eyes. "Don't go thinking you have any control." Natasha sneered but gasped when you withdrew the strap and snapped your hips forwards again.

"We'll see."

[hollowshadowwolf]

Misffle Superhero AU; Superhero Pyrokinetic Clara and Supervillain Cryokinetic Missy (Aesthetic Set and Drabble)

In public, they hate each other. Constantly fighting for the upper hand, and wilfully drawing blood as they struggle for dominance; though the hero usually comes out on top.

In private, they love each other. Constantly fighting for the upper hand, and wilfully drawing blood as they struggle for dominance; though the villain usually comes out on top.

Hero and Villain. Enemies by day. Lovers by night. Clara will happily win the battles on the outside if it means losing the war against Missy inside.

-----

“Your OTP having fire and ice powers based on their personalities. Whenever Person B (fire) gets pissed off and riled up, Person A (ice) gives them a tight hug that douses the flame and calms down Person B in a hiss of steam.”

-

“Ugh, I cannot believe him!”

Missy watched from her perch on Clara’s sofa - the same perch she’d been in since sneaking into the hero’s flat after their battle that morning and waiting for her to come home, which she had with a slam of the door and a throwing of her leather jacket onto the nearest chair – as her puppy paced back and forth, arms folded tightly across her chest, rage radiating off her body and her adorable face set in an angry mask. Missy sighed slightly as she leant her cheek on her fingers, icy eyes follow the hero’s back and forth lazily but closely.

“What’s the old owl gone and done now?”

Clara clenched her jaw, eyes gleaming for a moment, before biting her lip, worrying the split in it from that morning subconsciously, as she inhaled and then exhaled in a shuddering breath, trying to get her rising anger under control.

“He found out about us. I don’t know how. I mean we were careful, weren’t we? We didn’t do anything overt in public, and even anything suspicious was always out of surveillance view.” Clara ran a trembling hand through her hair as she rambled, her other arm hugging her chest, her agitation mounting again as she continued to pace. “But he did.” Missy smirked.

“Well the old Doctor is a smart man, we should know that by now. In fact I’m surprised it took him this long. Then again he is generally clueless over personal relationships and obvious signs of flirting so perhaps not. He and his eyebrows have always been more interested in science and machines.” Missy idly moved her gaze back to the book in her lap – Jane Austen again, why did her puppy always have this out and why didn’t Missy ever find one of the other many book’s the hero had instead of always gravitating to this stupid collection – though her focus was still on Clara as she spoke her next question as nonchalantly as possible. “So what did he say?” Clara scoffed, her other arm unfolding for her chest so she could gesture wildly.

“He had, the audacity, to tell me to stop seeing you.” Missy raised a brow, her gaze remaining falsely on the open book, while Clara barked an obviously fake laugh, voice dripping with sarcasm as she continued. “Oh no I’m sorry, he didn’t tell me to leave you. He, advised me to.” Her shaking hands clenched and unclenched into fists at her side. “How hypocritical is that!? I mean what about him and his relationship with River?”

Rage wasn’t the only thing radiating off Clara. From the corner of her eye as she continued to pretend to read the words on the page in her lap, she could see the waves of heat coming off Clara’s body as her anger rose – much like when looking off into the distance across the desert sand or down a long road on a hot day. Missy shifted slightly and exhaled softly. Adjusting her legs that were situated under her, she loosened herself from her curled position on the couch should she have to suddenly stand and intervene. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but she needed to try and diffuse her puppy’s anger to prevent an embarrassing incident.

“Well it’s not exactly the same,” Missy pointed out with a half shrug, turning the page as Clara gritted her teeth while still pacing, “He’s not a hero and she’s not exactly a villain. More of an anti-hero if we’re honest. Vigilante.” Clara stopped finally stopped and faced the villain.

“I know but still!” Clara flung one arm out in indignant gesticulation, sparks flying out of her open palm. “He can’t tell me what to do. I’m not his student anymore! I can make my own life choices damnitt.” Missy chuckled and looked up at the hero.

“Even if it’s a pretty bad one.” Clara glowered at the other brunette.

“We’ve been over this Missy,” the hero growled low and threateningly, Missy unable to keep the amused and aroused smirk off her face at the sound. Her puppy was always so adorable when she tried to take charge, even on the battlefield. “Just because we have to fight on the outside doesn’t change how I feel about you. No matter how hard I try. Yes, I’m a hero and you’re a villain, something everyone reminds of at every turn. And frankly I don’t give a fuck.”

Missy stared wide eyed at the hero standing across from her. While Missy was often adept at hiding her emotions and keeping her classic, and horribly clichéd but oh so enjoyable to portray, ‘ice queen’ façade; Clara wore her emotions on her sleeve and on her face, the pure rawness of it all, much like a building after a blaze, always left Missy a little breathless. She’d laugh at the irony of their power sets matching their personalities if it hadn’t already been painfully pointed out in every news article and magazine editorial to cover their long standing public feud.

However, here and now Clara’s emotions were getting out of control. Missy could see thin tendrils of smoke rising off of the hero’s shoulders. Occasional embers were falling from her violently shaking hands, the villain positive she could hear the tell-tale crackle when the hero’s fingers moved. The thin cut that lay atop the bruise along her cheek bone, another injury Missy had given her that morning – unintentionally of course, their clashes were legendary in there destructiveness to both the environment and each other, Clara bearing the brunt most of the time however, though with very few civilian casualties at her puppy’s insistence – seemed to flicker, like looking into the cracks in molten lava. Most importantly of all, the eyes that always captivated Missy’s attention were practically glowing as if reflecting fire light but from the inside out. Missy knew the grey jumper Clara was wearing was her puppy’s favourite and if she let this outburst carry on and the hero spontaneously combusted… well those big eyes would be awful sad when all that would be left of it would be ash and charred strips of material. And Missy couldn’t have that.

With an exaggerated sigh and eye roll, Missy closed the book and dropped it onto the side table next to the couch, finally uncurling and standing tall, walking towards the hero with purpose. Clara frowned when Missy stood, talking a slight half step back as the villain came towards her, hands clenching into tight fists, the knuckles white, as if sensing what was coming and refusing to let go of her justified anger just yet. However her puppy let the inevitable happen as Missy reached the hero and wrapped her arms around Clara’s tense shoulders, trapping her upper arms in her strong grasp and pulling the other brunette’s head into her chest and resting her chin atop.

There was a loud hissing sound and a wave of steam rose off the pair. Clara sank into the tight hug with a shuddering breath, tension rolling off her small form with the steam, as she brought her arms up and around Missy’s waist, unclenching her fists before gripping handfuls of the villain’s purple blouse at the small of her back.

“I’m sorry the mean old owl made my puppy mad, but mummy’s here to make it all better,” Missy murmured against Clara’s hair before dropping a soft kiss to her hero’s head. Clara burrowed deeper into the villain’s chest as Missy lay her head against Clara’s and began to hum, rocking them both from side to side as one hand came up to stroke her puppy’s hair.

They stayed like that for a few minutes as Clara began to calm down, the indicative heat that had permeated her skin fading to its normal, though still higher than a normal human, level. Missy smiled into the hero’s hair as she felt the change.

“Better?” Clara nodded into her chest. Missy’s grin grew as she pulled away from the hero, gently moving her hands to Clara’s shoulders and pushing her upright, her puppy’s hands leaving Missy’s back to fall at her sides. The villain could see some tears staining her puppy’s cheeks so moved her hands to cup the join at her neck and wipe them away with her thumbs, careful of the wounded one. With that done she made sure Clara’s eyes locked with hers for a moment as she spoke again. “The Doctor just wants to look out for you poppet. You might not be his student but he still cares about you greatly, and I thank him for that. Even if he does still send you unnecessary trouble.” Clara huffed and shook her head.

“You’re the one usually causing that trouble.”

“I know but still. He only wants what’s best for you. But no matter what he says or suggests, I’ll always be here for you. If that’s what you want.”

Clara smiled and closed her eyes as she nodded within Missy’s grip. She blew out a long breath and looked back up at the villain with those large doe eyes shining, this time with only regular emotion.

“Thank you Missy.”

“Anytime. My Clara.”

After a pause Missy licked her lips and moved her hands from Clara’s face to trail down her arms, brushing lightly over the still intact grey material, before taking Clara’s hands in both of hers.

“Very well then Hot Head,” Missy said as she slowly walked backwards towards the couch, tugging Clara to follow, “What shall we do with our free evening?”

“You’re the one who snuck in here Ice Queen,“ Clara retorted with an eye roll, “I hadn’t planned on anything.”

“Well that’s good,” the villain happily as they reached the edge of the couch and stopped, letting go of Clara’s hands to place one on her waist and the other on her shoulder, flashing her trademark predatory grin. In an instant Missy snuck a leg around Clara’s and pulled, throwing the hero off balance before using her momentum to turn and drop the other brunette onto the couch.

The hero landed with a soft and surprised ‘oof’ before a second later it became a gasp as Missy settled into her own position of straddling the younger woman. Missy moved forward so her lips brushed Clara’s, the hero’s free hands finding their place on the villain’s hips.

“Because I have a few of my own,” Missy purred against Clara’s lips before not wasting another second and capturing them in a crushing kiss. Clara clung to Missy, trying to pull the villain closer despite their bodies already being flush. Missy grinned and nipped at Clara’s bottom lip, tasting the addictive smoky tang of the hero’s blood.

Missy pulled away all too soon however, leaving Clara to try and chase her, the move causing the villain to chuckle. Both were already breathless and the fun was only just beginning. Missy moved her hands so she could run one thumb along Clara’s bottom lip and the split in it while the other caressed her wounded cheek. Clara leant into Missy’s touch and whined a little when the villain moved her hands back to the hero’s shoulders.

“It seems Mistress has some making up to do after playing a little too rough with her puppy when trying to rob that bank this morning huh,” Missy said with a pout. She rolled her hips against Clara’s, the move causing the hero’s eyes to flutter shut and mouth to drop open silently. Missy grinned wide. “Wouldn’t you agree poppet?”

Clara’s eyes slowly opened again, pupils blown wide and what was left of the iris glowing faintly as a lazy smile graced her lips. Her puppy managed a brief nod before Missy buried a hand in the hero’s hair and surged forward again.

Cold met hot in a possessive clash of teeth and tongues, and as an affront to science ice would be the one to melt fire. Though fire would get their own back later. Ice would make sure of it.

 (Happy birthday @evilqueenofgallifrey! I hope you enjoy this and have/had an awesome birthday. Love ya bud.)

[writingoneshots]

After reading the Killer story, I really want to request this: Killer accidentally cheating on reader and reader finds out while they are at it hehe

Drunken double 

Hello :) ! It's not Sunday here yet - technically yes.. it's after midnight, which means that it's Sunday but I didn't sleep yet.. so it doesn't count. It's still Saturday haha.

I really hope you'll like this.. wanted to make it angsty and dramatic but I wasn't sure how much drama or angst is actually wanted in one shots. And the 'hehe' made it seem like you wanted some angst and pain. I always try to interpret stuff :)

- Killer x reader - 1,339 words - married Kid (don't hate me. a bit of change won't hurt. his wive's name is Kira!) - NSFW, drama, drunken Kid, angst (not too intense because I don't know if readers like angst in one shots.)

Enjoying a long pause from all the gold hunting in the last few days, Killer and the rest of the crew were drinking and singing all night long. Everyone was enjoying themselves and having the best time of their lives. They were close to finding the One Piece but realized that there were a lot of treasures to steal and collect, after the Straw Hats had accidentally mentioned seeing a castle filled with gold. Killer had been drinking more than usual but that was because Kid felt the need to battle him in a drinking game again. This time he had felt more confident than before but he forgot that it was easier to get drunk while drinking through a straw than normally. He had already felt dizzy but still won the drinking contest, which was all about a golden bracelet. Kid wanted to give it to his wife but now Killer had won it for his girlfriend. You. After many hours, Killer spotted you standing at the doorway, pointing with your index finger at him and then motioning him to follow you. Killer didn't need to see you do this twice. He immediately stood up, the bracelet in his hand, and stumbled into your direction. Killer didn't realize how fast you two made it into his private cabin but he didn't care. The only thing he realized was that you were wearing a new perfume today. It confused Killer but he didn't mind it for now. He would definitely ask you about your sudden switch the next morning. While his erection got suddenly all the attention, Killer took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, trying to hold himself up. When he had felt your hand on his stomach, Killer put the bracelet around your wrist and sighed happy. It felt good to see you wearing it. His sight was way too blurry but he realized that your hair was falling differently over your shoulder when you eyed the bracelet. Killer was about to lift your head up, just to see into your beautiful (e/c) eyes but stopped when you took out his hardened member and began licking and sucking on it. Little pears of excitement landed on your tongue and Killers breathing became heavier at that sight. His hand grabbed your head after you kept teasing him for too long and pulled you softly closer to take him in completely. You two have been playing this game for too long every time but he was impatient today. Feeling you sucking on it, deepthroating it as good as possible, Killer leaned his head against the wall, not believing how this felt. He blamed the alcohol for feeling you pleasuring him differently but he didn't want to say anything to ruin the mood. "Get up, my love.", Killer looked down to you and helped you stand up, turning you around to your favorite position. He stepped to the side and pulled you with him to a small shelf. Killer pushed your torso down softly until you leaned down onto the shelf, and pulled up your skirt. "I see.. someone has bought a new skirt for me to enjoy.", Killer smiled a bit and just remembered to take off the mask. He threw it onto the bed and leaned forward again, grabbing your nape carefully and in the way you love it. It surprised him to not see you wear any clothes, especially because you were outside, but Killer was sure that this was just for him to feel more teased. His fingers went down carefully to your folds, making sure you were ready for him, and when he felt how wet you were, he got even more excited. Not being able to wait any longer, Killer placed himself right in between you and filled you fully but very slowly. The moans filled the room, Killers lust for you grew and he began thrusting in harder. His pleasure filled Killer's whole body and his orgasm was slowly building up. "Are you sure that he's in here?", a known voice appeared from outside. Killer suddenly froze. No.. what.. He would recognize that voice from thousand miles away. The door suddenly opened. Silence. A gasp filled the room and a heartbreaking tone of you crying followed right after. "No.. I..", Killer looked down at the woman, smiling at Killer. He had to blink many times, really fast.. until he saw the unknown face looking back at

him. His anger grew, his desperation drew him crazy and the sound of your pain killed him. "Oh my God, Killer!", Kira's voice distracted his mind for a quick second. He looked down to his hands, covered in blood now. "The fuck is going on here?!", Kid appeared behind his wife, still drunk as hell, and hIs eyes widened at the sight of Killer getting his, now not erected, member out of a freshly beheaded woman. Some other crewmates wanted to see what was going on but Kira threw them all out onto the deck again, while Kid stayed back with you and Killer. "HOW COULD YOU?!", you screamed at him. You weren't sure what to say or think but you knew one thing for sure. You have never felt this much pain in your life. He was sleeping with another woman. He betrayed you. The most loyal man you've ever met. He betrayed you.. Your sight became blurry because your tears have already been covering your face and you weren't fast enough to wipe them away. "(Y/N).. I.. (Y/N) please.. I didn't see.. I was drunk..-" "Man.. Killer.. how could you sleep with a woman, who has no head.. You should better hide her before (Y/N) sees this.. she's gonna-", Kid didn't even manage to finish his sentence. Kira pushed him out of the way immediately, cursing him for being an idiot, and turned to you. "(Y/N) let's go into the kitchen. You need to sit down.", she tried to calm you down but you just shook your head. "No.. I need to know why.." "I didn't intend to! I never even look at another woman, (Y/N)!", Killer took a deep breath and put on some pants. He didn't even care about his mask. The only thing he cared about was you. Not losing you, calming you down, holding you and begging you for forgiveness. Only you. "So you were drinking again, you idiot. Look what your games have done!", Kira whispered to Kid and pushed him into the bedroom to make him shut up from saying any other dumb comment. You looked short at Kira and her husband, having their usual fights and wondering if you'd ever end up like them. "(Y/N).. please..", Killers eyes were filled with regret and tears were appearing at the corner of his eyes. "No.. I trusted you.. I don't care if you were drunk.. you touched another woman..", you were only able to whisper, still not believing that you were saying these words out loud. It felt too surreal. Killer took a step forward only to stop again after you've lifted your hand to show him not to move. "We're over..", were the last words he had heard from you before you left without ever turning back. -- Two years have passed since that incident and Killer couldn't help but still think about you. Any time he had nothing to do, listened to Kid and his wife or just watched a couple laughing happily together, he couldn't stop thinking about the times you two had spend with each other. Killer tried to contact you, make you trust him again and believe him but had to give up after seeing you with someone else. Roronoa Zoro. He was the one you were holding now. He was the one, who was allowed to kiss you and satisfy all your needs. Listen to your stories and laugh with you. It wasn't Killer anymore. His heart was shattered and his will to live, barely existent.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Twenty-Four: And the Rest is Silence

And this is it: the final chapter! It’s been insane, but this is the only fanfiction I've ever finished before, and it wouldn’t have happened without all the support. Thank you so much!! I didn’t think anyone would read this, but seeing everyone’s reactions to each chapter has kept me going :D

I’m sorry for the essay, but I’m aware I didn’t post anything about this in the AIB tag. Yes, there will be a sequel!

I need to read the manga properly before writing it, so I don’t know when the sequel will start. But in the meantime, there’ll be a series of Chishiya one-shots of his perspective, and there’ll even be scenes that weren’t in this fic, plus an original game!

For the full fanfic, you can find it here on AO3. 

I’ll also be creating a master list, and I'll post the literature references after this for those who wanted them <3

Once again, thank you so much!! And I hope you enjoy this last chapter. 

------------------------------------------------

By the time Kuina found us again, it was already late afternoon, and even though our visas had extended by ten days after the Witch Hunt game, there was something about the setting of the sun that felt foreboding.

We lit up the furniture shop with candles and changed into the clean clothes we’d collected. Seeing Chishiya wearing ordinary clothes felt strange. Aside from when we’d crossed paths in the Tag game, the entire time I’d known him he’d been wearing swim shorts and flip flops.

Now, he emerged from the bathroom wearing grey sweatpants and a variegated blue cardigan that suited him perfectly. When his eyes flickered to mine, I realised I’d been staring, and distracted myself with preparing dinner instead. It wasn’t much, especially since all I had was canned goods and a camping stove, but the vegetable stew kept us warm while we curled up in our makeshift living room. As evening turned to night, however, it became obvious that something was missing.

There are no games.

Kuina chewed on her lip, looking out of the window. ‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ I told her. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

It didn’t bode well for us. If there were no games by the time our visas ran out, there was no chance of us getting out of the Borderlands. At least not alive.

As the night wore on, Kuina was the first to go upstairs. Covering her yawn with her hand, she waved goodnight and winked at me. I tried not to blush. Not that it made a difference, anyway. Chishiya was busying himself over a scrap of paper, and barely reacted when I smushed up by his side.

I frowned at the paper in his hand. ‘Isn’t that...’

‘Ah.’ He held it out so I could see it. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’ It was a drawing of a circle with squiggly lines, clearly a rushed sketch of something. In the middle of a line, the pen had stabbed a hole straight through.

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea,’ he said, but never elaborated.

Fighting the onset of sleep, I leaned my head against his shoulder, paying no mind to the way he tensed beneath me. The fabric of his cardigan was soft as down and made for a perfect pillow. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’

‘And if I don’t want to?’

I pushed my face into the fabric, pretending to settle in for the night. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

‘I have a feeling that won’t happen any time soon,’ he said, looking out the window.

And that was when I noticed it too. Midnight had passed by only a few minutes ago, yet there were no lasers. Did that mean the Borderlands were at a standstill? Were we stuck here permanently now? I wasn’t aware of how silent I had become, lost in my own thoughts, until Chishiya spoke up.

‘I believe it’s a map.’

My eyes slid to the drawing again. ‘And that hole in the paper, do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

He shifted uncomfortably and I sat upright, conscious that I might have been unintentionally hurting or bothering him. Looking at the map properly, the lines could represent different interlocking pathways. If the marked place was a hideout of some kind, it couldn’t be in the open streets; there was too big a risk that a player might stumble upon it by accident.

So where...?

As soon as the idea came to mind, the words slipped out of my mouth. ‘The subway....’

He hummed in agreement. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

I thought back to the second tagger – the crying woman – and how she’d been forced to participate in the game, donning an explosive collar. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably,’ he said. ‘But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’ I asked, yawning into my hand.

‘I believe we will.’ He gave me that same half-smile I had grown so used to. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

Chishiya didn’t complain when I crawled into his bed. Like the night before, he kept his distance, but I could’ve sworn at times, when my sleeping became lighter throughout the night, I could feel fingers lightly touching my hair, only to pull back the moment I stirred. Over the next few days, it became the norm, and every night I would curl up on my side of the bed, slipping into calm dreams under the blue light of the window.

---------------------------------------------------

Despite the sunshine washing over the grey of the city, the stairs leading into Minami-Aoyama station descended into darkness. We’d checked and double-checked the drawing against the official subway map several times, but the idea of entering an abandoned station to uncover who knows what wasn’t inviting.

‘Are you sure this is it?’ Kuina asked for the third time.

I looked at the route map hanging over the station entrance, my eyes tracing the shape of the lines. ‘Positive.’

Folding her arms, Kuina went first. I waited for Chishiya to take a small torch from his pocket before following behind. The station was truly submerged in blackness, and if not for Chishiya’s torch, we would have easily become lost. He shone the beam at the paper in his hand, then held it up against each train line.

‘This way,’ he said, and walked towards the edge of the platform.

We hopped down onto the gravel below, using the metal tracks to guide us further into the tunnels. It was disconcerting to see the subway so empty, but with Kuina and Chishiya here, I felt safe somehow.

Several minutes in, Chishiya stopped abruptly, and I almost walked into him. If he reacted at all, I couldn’t see to tell. But he seemed more focused on something else, as he pointed the torch at a door that had been busted open.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina’s voice echoed.  

Without hesitation, Chishiya disappeared through the door, leaving Kuina and I in the darkness.

Chishiya?!

I panicked, arms waving as I tried to find something to hold onto. I heard Kuina hiss as we stumbled into each other and bumped elbows. Feeling around for the door frame, we managed to make our way inside, where Chishiya held his torch at us from further away.

‘Hey!’ Kuina snapped. ‘Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ he said, waiting impatiently as we jogged over.

He shone the beam in the opposite direction, where it bounced off something. It was still too dark to tell just what, but as we walked forwards, everything became clearer. A structure lay ahead, with tunnels and walkways all leading into a giant room. Overhead, wires were strung across the ceiling, all feeding into the same place. We entered through one of the tunnels, and my heart jumped.

Televisions. They stared, black and empty, in rows and columns up the walls. But what was even more surprising was the setup right in front of us. It was an office, with papers, pen pots and coffee-stained mugs strewn about on desks. It would have looked like any other workplace, if not for the bodies draped in chairs and across the floor.

‘What... is this?’ I crouched to inspect the body of a man in a suit. Judging from its state, he had only died recently, but more importantly, there was a singed hole running through his head. He had been killed by a laser. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the games.’

Chishiya closely inspected a desk. ‘Evidently not,’ he said, picking up a folded piece of paper and passing it to me. It was filled with numbers, some ticked off. Whoever it had belonged to was keeping track of their visa.

They’re playing games too, I thought. Or at least, they were.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina gingerly held up a sheet of paper with scribbles all over it. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be odds. ‘They were betting on us,’ she said.  

A shiver ran along my skin. Of course, they had been watching us this whole time, that was expected. But to place bets on our survival was a whole other story. If the dealers were playing too, there must’ve been a separate system for them to extend their days. Perhaps how many people survived each game had some kind of impact on their visas.

A finger lightly brushed the back of my arm and Chishiya appeared beside me. ‘Momoka’s friend,’ I said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game... or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

From his expression, I knew he had been thinking the same thing. ‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

I glanced around at the stiffened bodies slumped around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

At that moment, a tap of footsteps echoed from the entrance. Chishiya instantly turned off his torch and tugged me into one of the tunnels. Kuina joined us and we hid, waiting. The footsteps grew louder, closer, and two torchlights waved through the darkness. I kept my eyes trained on the tunnel opposite as the footsteps paused.

‘Where is this place?’  

‘Who knows?’

With a sigh, I relaxed instantly.

Those two.

It had only been a few days since I had made peace with Arisu and Usagi, but I was glad to see them again. Arisu was cleaned up, his wounds well on the way to healing, while Usagi stared in amazement at the television screens around us.

Chishiya grazed past me as he moved out from under the shadows. ‘You actually found this place,’ he said. ‘As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’  

‘We meet again,’ Kuina said, walking around the desks to lean against the wall.

Arisu and Usagi’s eyes scanned the two of them before stopping at me. They looked visibly confused, probably wondering what I was doing with them after I’d told them I wasn’t involved in Chishiya’s setup. In an attempt at diffusing the awkwardness, I smiled and waved.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered. Her voice bordered on distrust, not that anyone could blame her.

I couldn’t tell whether Chishiya was trying to make things better or worse when he held up the full deck of cards and smiled. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’

Arisu only looked at him cynically. ‘How did you discover this place?’

Chishiya rooted in his pocket and pulled out the drawing. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ He sauntered around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards... I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ His eyes jumped to mine. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

‘They’re not the gamemasters,’ Arisu said, eyes fixed on the bodies around us.

I stepped over a hand strewn across the floor. ‘カードを集めたので、殺された.’ Because we collected the cards, they were all killed. I struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. ‘There must be someone above them.’

Chishiya translated, and Usagi turned to me with worry. ‘But who?’

‘Who knows?’ Chishiya shrugged. ‘They might be aliens... or even God.’

The idea didn’t sound as strange as it should have done. We were in a world where lasers appeared from the sky, and death games were the norm. Even when I first arrived here, I’d wondered whether this was a form of judgement. Nothing was out of the question anymore.

Suddenly, the screens burst into life and white light flooded the room. I jumped, flocking to Chishiya and Kuina’s side.

Have we been caught?

Music reverberated all around us, and the screens displayed all four card suits, along with a message I couldn’t read. It didn’t matter though, as the voice that rang through the speakers was one I remembered well. My stomach dropped.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

The screens blurred until Mira’s wild eyes and subdued smile came into focus. It was now obvious why the Ten of Hearts had taken place at the Beach at the very moment things had fallen apart.

She must’ve been feeding information back, I thought. But back to where?

‘How interesting,’ Chishiya said. Seeking stability, I slipped a hand into his pocket. There was a slight hesitation before his fingers laced around mine.

Mira’s voice shook with a quiet excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards, you’ve all cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ Her expression turned wistful as she stood. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

A single screen switched to show footage from a miscellaneous game. A group were stood, clutching their guns as they inspected the scatter of bodies across the ground.

They’ve been recording us.

‘And that girl you burned alive.’

A second display opened up, revealing several players watching on as a girl, engulfed in flames, struggled and clawed at her skin and clothes. I held my breath, Niragi’s animalistic cries ringing through my memory.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

My eyes widened, and I gripped Chishiya’s hand as the inside of the furniture store appeared on-screen. The fractured image of myself flinched, quivering with shock, as the first man and Green Shirt leapt from their seats, only to crumple to the ground, lasers piercing them where they stood.

Chishiya’s fingers squeezed mine, and I gasped, blinking away the image. He must’ve seen it too.

‘Those who’s heads were blown off,’ Mira continued, dreamily. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moments you’ll never forget.’

The screen changed once more, and from the corner of my eye, Arisu winced. Following his gaze, I recognized his partner from the Tag game, his neck exploding around a collar.

I’m so sorry....

Meanwhile, Mira’s expression shifted into pure, childlike delight. ‘Everyone... I’m so touched!’ She held her hand over her heart. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

We?

Chishiya tensed slightly. He had noticed it too. If Mira wasn’t the only gamemaster, just who were the others?

Although Mira couldn’t hear us, Kuina mumbled, ‘Are you returning us to the real world?’

It seemed too good to be true, and sure enough, it was. Mira clapped her hands together excitedly. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

Aside from Chishiya, everyone sank with disappointment and fear. Just how much more would we have to deal with before we could go home? If we were competing for the face cards, did that mean there were only twelve more games in total, or would there be repeat cards like there were for the numbered ones?

Kuina groaned. ‘New games? You’re kidding.’

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ Chishiya murmured.

I looked at him, curious. ‘What do you mean?’

His expression was guarded, but before he could reply, Mira’s voice cut in again. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

All at once, the screens shut down, leaving us all in the darkness once more. Everything was quiet as we came to terms with what had just happened. It was Arisu who first suggested that we get out of here. Him and Usagi disappeared back through the tunnel, and with one glance at Chishiya and I, Kuina followed.

My fingers were still interlaced with his, hidden within the warmth of his pocket. He was watching me, waiting.

‘These games,’ I said. ‘They’re going to be harder than the others.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before...’ I began. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me.’

I could see him thinking back. ‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ I bit my lip, unable to face him as my eyes began tearing up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then....’

He sighed. ‘You cry too much.’ When I looked up, his lips were curled into that same, familiar smile, only this time, there was nothing cruel or condescending there. ‘We should find the others.’

Wiping my eyes with the edge of my sleeve, I finally let go of his hand, following him back out and through the tunnels. As we climbed the steps of the station, emerging into daylight, a series of loud bangs resounded throughout the city. The others were peering up at the skyscrapers towering over us, and the fireworks that burst like flowers against the sunlight.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ Chishiya said, idly watching the display. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I looked to him, admiring the way his hair shifted in the breeze, and how the reflection of the fireworks danced in his dark eyes.

Let’s go home together.

‘It’s a deal.’

[ailelie]

bakugou becomes a teacher

Okay. So I read a fic in which Bakugou Katsuki of all people decides to become a civilian after graduation. It mostly makes sense in context. And, well, my brain wouldn't leave the idea alone.

Let's say that is what happens.

One day while interning Bakugou saves a class from a villain, but gets stuck in a precarious situation with the class and teacher until other heroes can get them out. His explosions might get him free, but would put everyone else in danger. So he has to sit tight.

And, you know what, let's make it Todoroki Fuyumi's class. They have to work together to keep the kids from freaking out. And she compliments him on being good with kids. And they start talking. She asks him why he wants to be a hero and then says something like never caring much for the rankings, that they seemed a very narrow way of determining worth. Bakugou defends them and she shrugs. "I never needed a number to tell me I was making the world a better place."

(Fuyumi might be trying to hold her family together and may be willing to forgive her father, but she has to blame something and in this AU she blames the rankings themselves).

After they're rescued, she invites Bakugou to visit her classroom in a safer setting. To his surprise, he accepts.

For the first time, Bakugou has an adult (outside of family) in his life who doesn't care about heroes that much and who has a very negative opinion of the rankings. For the first time in his life he is praised for something beyond his ability to explode.

It isn't enough to turn him from his lifelong path, but he does start to question why he wants to be a hero and just what being the best really means.

Then he's in the park one day and there's this kid getting bullied for having a weak quirk and he's thrown back to his past a bit, but he also thinks about what Fuyumi would do and intervenes. Someone on the sidelines, someone who was watching it all go down and doing nothing, compliments him afterward and tells him he's good with kids.

And Bakugou thinks to himself, 'yeah. I am.'

He still gets a thrill from a good fight and taking down villains, but he finds himself lingering afterward to make sure the civilians are all right and checking in with the kids.

His classmates are confused by the changes in him. He's still explosive, but when he's kneeling down in front of kid and showing off tiny sparks along his palm, he's kind.

He's visiting Fuyumi's class again. And she is teaching her kids about heroes and how anyone can be one, even if they don't go pro. "You're a hero when you make the world a better place," she tells her kids.

And it hits home. Bakugou starts thinking about how he makes the world better.

Internship time comes around again and this time he seeks out rescue heroes. He says it is so that he can be the best in all types of heroism, but he knows it is something deeper than that.

(He does eventually figure out Fuyumi and Shouto are related. Shouto is more bothered than he is).

He still spends time in Fuyumi's classroom. He asks her why she became a teacher.

He isn't ready to face what he's considering. But part of him feels more comfortable in her classroom than in the hero office where he's interning.

He can't face what he's considering. Bakugou Katsuki becoming anything less than the #1 hero is unimaginable. Isn't it? After all he's said and done, can he really do anything else?

Fuyumi listens and says he can.

So. Very long story short, after high school, Bakugou accepts an offer from an agency in Tokyo, but spends his spare time taking classes to become a teacher. He keeps it a secret from everyone. He isn't sure yet, but he wants the ability to choose.

And, after a year, he quits the agency and disappears into Tokyo. He's afraid of what his friends will say and so he cuts off contact. Some are easy to stop talking to. Some (Kirishima) hurt. He only keeps up contact with Fuyumi and makes her promise not to mention anything to Shouto.

He becomes a middle school teacher.

Years pass.

It has been 10 years since graduation. He's 28. Still single. Still teaching. His kids are little shits year after year, but he loves them. He doesn't tolerate bullying and teaches kids that being a hero means making the world a better place.

Then one of his kids ends up on the radar of villains. His quirk turns whatever he touches with all five fingers invisible and noiseless. He uses it mostly for mischief, much to every teacher's despair, but he isn't a bad kid. Still. The villains are after him and this means he gets assigned a bodyguard.

Bakugou freaks out a little when he learns a hero is going to be in his school, but calms himself because what are the odds that it will be someone he knows? There are lot of heroes. Not all them are from 1-A.

But then the hero arrives and it is Red Riot.

It's been about 9 years since Bakugou dropped from the hero scene. It has been about 9 years since he's seen his former best friend.

"Ba--" Kirishima cannot draw a full breath. "Bakugou?"

"You know my sensei?" the kid asks.

Kirishima doesn't hear him. He's still gaping.

Bakugou is gripping the back of his chair tightly enough he's afraid he'll break it. "Take your seats," he manages to say, forcing his gaze away from Kirishima's.

Just his luck. Of all the heroes in Japan.

(It could have been worse, he guesses. It could have been Deku).

At least Kirishima has to stay with the kid. Except, another hero assumes body guarding after school ends and Kirishima doesn't go home.

"You teach?"

"Obviously."

"What happened? You--"

"Look. No one here knows about who I used to be and I'd like to keep it that way. So just, don't, okay?"

(His language is cleaner now than it used to be. Still a bit harsh, but he's been in a classroom too long for it to be the same as when he was a kid).

He expects, rather, hopes Kirishima will leave it at that, but apparently Kirishima hasn't changed that much in the past 9 years. He still intrudes.

"What about drinks then?"

"No."

"Tomorrow?" His smile is still blinding like the sun. Bakugou knows himself better than he did at 18 or younger. He knows he'd love to bask in that smile, but he forces a frown and says, "No" again.

"Soon then," Kirishima says, refusing to accept "No" as a final answer.

Bakugou groans and thinks about who Kirishima might tell and says "Fine. But I'm picking where."

He takes Kirishima to a small neighborhood bar not far from his apartment. He feels safer on his own turf. "Look," he says as they walk to the bar, "We're doing this with one condition: you don't tell anybody you've seen me."

"But, Bakugou, people have missed--"

Bakugou stops walking. "Promise me, Kirishima, not a word."

Kirishima turns to stare at him and then his shoulder slump. "Not a word," he echoes.

They get drinks.

It becomes a thing.

Three weeks pass while the heroes scramble to take down the villains after the kid and nearly everyday Kirishima and Bakugou get drinks after school. After the first two weeks, Bakugou reluctantly invites Kirishima to his apartment to continue talking.

Three weeks and one evening Kirishima is called away mid-conversation for a raid. They've found the villains and it is time to attack.

Bakugou waits impatiently back at his apartment and worries. Part of him wishes he could have gone with Kirishima. But that isn't the life he chose.

Kirishima calls him after midnight. It is done. He's safe. The kid will be safe. It is all over.

Bakugou feels...bereft.

Only. The next day (a day with no Kirishima in the back of the room pulling faces, trying to make Bakugou laugh in the middle of his lesson, no Kirishima talking with the kids over lunch, no Kirishima just existing so close in his sphere once more) Kirishima meets him at the gate of the school after classes end.

Instead of going to get drinks, Bakugou leads him directly to his apartment. As soon as they're inside, he hugs him. And Kirishima hugs him back.

"I've missed you," Bakugou admits for the first time since Kirishima walked back into his life. He pulls back just enough to look at his (former?) best friend.

"Same," Kirishima says, his smile soft but no less warming.

And Bakugou wants to kiss him. The thought is terrifying.

Kirishima frowns. "What's wrong?" He skims his thumb up and down Bakugou's side. They're still standing so close together, so entwined.

All it would take is a step back and the moment would end and they'd just be friends again and everything would go back to whatever normal was these days. Instead, Bakugou raises his hand to Kirishima's cheek, sucks in a breath when Kirishima leans into his palm instead of pulling away.

"Bakugou?" Kirishima asks, quiet and uncertain.

"Shut up," he answers, leaning in slowly enough that his intent is unmistakable. He expects Kirishima to pull back at every moment. He expects to wreck everything between them. But he remembers the worry from last night and missing him all day and decides to be selfish and hope.

Kirishima meets him partway.

They end up dating. Mostly secretly. They meet at Bakugou's place for the most part or at the bar. Kirishima stops meeting him at the school gates. Bakugou's colleagues suspect and some tease him for bagging a hero. Fuyumi knows. Kirishima's friends know he is seeing someone, but he refuses to reveal who.

"He's a civilian. He doesn't want involved in hero life and I respect that."

Kirishima yearns to tell them everything, but he promised Bakugou to keep his secrets, so he does. Still, it kills him to keep quiet when Kaminari mentions Bakugou one evening and everything spirals into a "where is he now" game with the most popular answer being an overseas hero or an underground hero. Or deep undercover somewhere.

At some point Kirishima ends up moving in with Bakugou. They're disgustingly domestic. Bakugou cooks with an inspiration he hasn't felt in years. It is different cooking for someone else.

Kirishima brings home case work and discusses some of it with Bakugou who might be long out of the game, but still smart and sharp. Bakugou brings home his grading and works on it while slumped against Kirishima on the couch while the TV plays.

Kirishima updates his personal information making Bakugou his emergency contact. He tells people he's moved, but keeps the location secret.

The emergency contact information becomes relevant a few months later when the villains he'd helped take down before escape prison. He's injured in the fight against them and taken to the hospital.

Bakugou gets the call. And he hesitates before leaving. If he goes to the hospital, he will likely run into other heroes. His secrecy will be out the window. He almost stays at his apartment, rationalizing that Kirishima would understand.

He's literally standing at his genkan, torn between rushing out the door and stepping back into his apartment. His keys bite into his palm, he's gripping them so tightly.

And he remembers kissing Kirishima for the first time before they even got their shoes off. And he wonders when he became such a coward. Heroes make the world a better place and Kirishima's world will be better if he isn't alone.

He steps into his shoes and goes.

The hospital is surprisingly calm. His nerves are haywire and he's expected the world to reflect that, to be just as chaotic. He's allowed into a small waiting room outside of the surgery. Several heroes are waiting there also for news. He recognizes Ashido, but she doesn't look up when he enters. He takes a seat away from the heroes and waits and hopes.

When a doctor enters, everyone is ready for news.

"What's going on?" Ashido is asking as soon as the doctor opens the door. "Is Kirishima all right?"

"I'm afraid I can only release information about his condition to his partner," the doctor apologizes. Bakugou realizes that means him. He stands.

"I'm here. And it's all right. They can hear."

Ashido is staring at him like she's seen a ghost.

"You're the civilian boyfriend?" she hisses once the doctor has delivered his report (surgeries have gone well; they can see him soon).

"You got a problem with that?" he asks.

"Where did you go?"

Kaminari enters then, out of breath, one arm bandaged and butterfly stiches over his brow. "How's Kiri--Bakugou?"

Bakugou feels short of breath, but he forces a neutral expression. "Yeah?"

They question him. And it is annoying. But he can't leave without seeing Kirishima, so he deals.

"Where have you been?"

"Teaching."

"Why did you leave?"

"Because I wanted to."

"Why did you stop texting?"

"Because--it was for the best."

"Bullshit."

He shrugs. They bicker and the questions start again.

Finally the doctor allows them back to see Kirishima.

Kirishima who is surprised, but pleased to see Bakugou. Who realizes what coming cost, but doesn't comment on that, instead saying, "You know what this means, right? Movie night!" Like they were still back in the UA dorms. Like the past decade were nothing at all.

Bakugou has to accept that his friends never stopped caring about him and slowly he starts to socialize with them. Kirishima runs interference, stopping questions that get too close to demanding to know why Bakugou wasn't blasting his way up the hero rankings.

Bakugou isn't ashamed of his profession, but he's clung to his secrecy for so long that letting go feels too revealing. He hates feeling vulnerable.

Then Kirishima breaks into the top 10 and gets invited to a celebratory banquet. He asks Bakugou to be his plus-one.

Bakugou accepts. They go. He talks with the other significant others about their careers until he gets recognized. By Deku. Because of course Deku, the current #2 and soon to be #1 hero is there.

"Kacchan?!"

"Deku."

And this is the moment he's dreaded the most, but now that it is here, he feels weirdly calm.

"Where have you been?" Deku asks, like everyone asks. "What are you doing here?"

Bakugou shrugs. "Teaching. I teach middle school." He nods toward Kirishima. "I came with him."

Deku gapes and Bakugou smirks. There's something satisfying, he decides, about stumping people so hard.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to make the world a better place."

And the banquet goes on. Bakugou finds his way back to Kirishima and claps when he gets an award for being #10 in the rankings.

"How do you know so many heroes?" one of the other civilian significant others asks him.

"I was one for a while. Decided to teach instead."

That knot of anxiety is gone.

He meets up with Fuyumi a few days later and tells her about the banquet and how he's reconnecting with old friends.

"Thinking about going back?" she asks him.

He shakes his head. "Nah. I like where I am."

And that's the fic.

[absoluteindulgence]

Vacay Away

A/N: OKAY SO LET ME START BY SAYING, THIS FIC IS 2 1/2 MONTHS LATE. I originally wanted to post this for Black History Month. But I'm black all year so better late than never! Also, I apologize to all those waiting for me to upload, I've been consumed by Sims 4 and even made Mirio in-game lmao. If you have not finished MHA Season 4, there's a mild spoiler. Lastly, this is smut, so read at your own horniness risk.

Pairings: Mirio Togata X Black/POC!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Cursing

Word Count: 5.1K

As new graduates, the world was bright and shiny, like an apple ripe enough to bite. You decided after all the hell you and Mirio went through this year; it would be enough to graduate and offer Mirio a well-deserved rest. Too many nights went on with sweat induced nightmares with tears flooding from his despairing blue eyes; Reliving the horrors of fighting Chisaki, losing his quirk and his mentor who always showed him promise until his last breath.

Although you were at another agency during the ordeal, you always kept in contact with Tamaki and Nejire. At first, Tamaki didn't want to share any information, because he knew how it would tear you apart, but after he saw where your loyalty stood, he had to. You spent the rest of your days taking care of Mirio. By his side as soon as you knew his whereabouts. Staying in the hospital overnight, even going home to get a spare change of clothes, just to come back. You watched as he vented what it felt like for him. Not a single bone in your body blamed Eri; she was a child after all.

You still trained with him and even accompanied him on his internship. You knew he was capable of hand-to-hand, but what mattered was the villains with quirks that were life-threatening. Eventually, you laughed with each hospital visit and became well acquainted with the staff. After graduating with just above average grades, the two of you felt a sigh of relief: no more pity parties and sad looks. You two had to get away from it all.

And so, the voyage outside of Tokyo began. Originally you were going to celebrate by staying over at one another's home, but that wasn't fun enough for you; you wanted to feel free. Not just for yourself, for Mirio. He deserved to feel like himself even though he said he wouldn't cry over spilled milk anymore. You wanted to be by his side.

And so the bustle outside the city proved to be challenging. It took more buses than trains to leave. And even then had to take the abstract route to get outside of the town and into the country. Your breathing was more steady with the air being exceedingly more lucid, camping out to watch the stars shine, even being cheesy, mentioning the shapes found in the midnight sky. And the impromptu sexy times would be something you two take to your graves.

When you finally got close to the hot spring you were planning to surprise Mirio with, you admitted into the closest hotel. Luckily, the staff knew who you two were and gave you a week free, along with benefits like the perks of free food and massages. Unsure if that was related to filling a quota for the month or if they loved LeMillion as much as management said they did.

You two were starting to look like people who lived in the forest, eating off the land. So, of course, you were going to take advantage of the salon there as well. But you knew better than to go in expecting them to know what to do with your hair. You had your hair products tucked away neatly in your oversized backpack and had even taught Mirio how to handle your naps. He liked playing with your hair because he found it therapeutic and saw it as another way to bond with you.

Mirio's face of content made you beam with hope into his recovery. You were pushing yourself to get him out of his rut. You weren't sure if he knew how much you still worried about what happened. But you wanted to make up for the time that you weren't able to be by his side during the life-changing experience, apart from blaming yourself, because he told you what had been plaguing him.

As his partner, you did your best to assert the situation and go based on logic instead of emotion. But the look on his face, knowing that he let Eri out of his sight, spoke louder than any words. Having obtained Eri, and getting to spend time with her to build morale, was challenging at first as she was hesitant when looking at you. At first, she thought you were dirty due to Chisaki's influence.

After realizing that's just how your skin looks, she apologized profusely — not wanting to hurt your feelings and be accepted by you. You worked your way into taking care of her, although not great with kids. And since she was a particular but essential case, you wanted to make your imprint on her memory. She began to ask you questions about yourself and Mirio. At times asking the dreaded ones related to sex since she was around Deku and his friend Bakugou. You kept calm but wanted to dropkick the self-proclaimed hero with murder in his name. Aizawa made sure to scold him and tell him not to slip up on the foul language around Eri again.

As you entered your hotel room, you dropped off all the luggage you brought — yearning for the chance to feel warm running water. Mirio's breath lightly fanned over you as he rubbed your shoulders for you. He insisted on carrying your belongings before the trip, but you ran ahead of him with all your things. Even though your bags were more substantial than his one.

"See Sunshine; I told you to let me carry them. And now you're rolling your shoulders to relieve the tension." It was clear that he was smiling, with every grip on your muscles.

Your moans were soft, reassuring he hit your tense areas, "And yet I didn't complain at all like you thought I would."

"Because I was watching you." His light chuckles tickled the back of your neck, "And you're too stubborn sometimes."

You giggled under his touch, eyeing your heap of bags near the king-sized bed, slowly undressing. Slipping out of your boyfriend's gentle hold, you placed your dirty clothes in a laundry bag you brought. You needed to take a shower soon; you were getting antsy and anticipating fresh water from a showerhead instead of a stream. The life of hiking in the wild could only be so good for so long. Especially with your hair not getting enough moisture in the fresh air.

Fully nude, you turn to look at Mirio with a playful smile, "Oh, you think so?"

You were pulling your hair out of its messy afro bun while Mirio ogled your hair defying gravity as it did, it left a pleasant grin on his face. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before you searched through the bags. Looking for your tried-and-true skin and hair care products that were placed throughout your belongings. Speeding into the bathroom, you turned on the cold, metal dial to hot water. Awaiting the warm water, you tried your best to detangle your hair, barely succeeding.

Assuming the water warmed up enough, you step into the shower and let the water run through your hair and down your body. An exhale leaves your body as you peaceably scrub your skin of scum. You inhale the smell of your favorite soap, and your mind clears with a serene smile. After lathering and rinsing yourself off, you gently detangle your hair, working the shampoo through it.

The door to the ugly white bathroom swings open slowly, enters your buff boyfriend. Undressing to get in with you, he yawns as he wraps his arms around you. You hastily scoff and turn to him, his sleepy smile says it all. Mirio pulls you closer as he kisses your neck.

"You took too long to get out, Sunshine."

"Because I'm at war, right now."

"Is that right? Well, you could have asked for my help."

Mirio lightly patted your curly locks, patting them down and occasionally scratching your scalp. The feel of his fingertips was enough to make you doze and lose balance. Catching you with his free hand and pulling you closer to his defined chest. With a little giggle, you smile and gaze into his eyes, looking at the water dripping off his hair.

"You know, I just finished cleansing my body, and now I'm getting back to square one."

Humming a tune, "Is that so?" he replied lazily with his chin resting atop your head, "I'm sorry, Sunflower."

You turn your body around to cross your arms over his broad, muscle-bound shoulders, sketching out the scars littering his body, some light scratches others with a firm texture. Your eyes lingered all over him as you slowly caressed the back of his head, placing kisses all along his collarbone and neck. Stopping at his jawline, Mirio cups your ass with his strong hands.

He leans down to reach your ear, "If you start, I'll finish."

You raise up your head innocently to look at him, eyes armored with honesty and lust. Pushing your luck, you lather him in soap and rubbing his chest in circular motions, moving lower to his abs. Pretending to graze his cock, then lather his shoulders down to the wrists and giving eye contact through the whole ordeal. Your lips curve into a sweet smile that causes him to groan.

The motions are simple yet affect him like the ripples from a waterfall. You lightly graze his collarbone with kisses as his muscles tense, placing your hands low to his sides, tracing his adonis belt. A light sigh leaves his thin lips, instantaneously, he picks you up, pushing your tiny frame against the cold wall. The chilliness gives you goosebumps all over, erecting your nipples — Mirio's grip firm around you and his breath heavy on your wet shoulder.

"See, you're pushing it, Princess." His chuckle fanning over your ear.

A tiny snicker escaped as he pressed his lips close to yours, smothering you in kisses, eliminating any free space between you two. His cock stood at attention, the tip tickling your flower. His soft, thin lips left no part of your neck and collarbone untouched. Your nectar seeped onto his thumper as you whimpered with impatience.

"Fill me up, baby."

"Be patient, my Sunflower," He hooked his arms under your thighs, positioned himself to kneel under you while gently sliding you down where your inner thighs touched his cheeks.

Facing your pretty essence, he bulldozes his tongue into your bud. The instant tremor to your clit as your legs quiver as his tongue swivels and explores every part of you. The jolts in your legs leave your voice hoarse as moans break out from your lips. His obligation to pleasure you is selfish and greedy as if his way of controlling you is to give you what you want. Your body rolls as his grasp around your plump thighs tighten, keeping you in place.

Your soft whimpers leave him to groan against your tingling golden arches, "You taste so good, baby." He gives a quick love bite to your shaking thighs, still balancing you against the cold wall as you thrust into him enthusiastically.

His body tenses under yours as he pulls your body close from your ass. He takes hold of your soft cheeks and does a solid lick to your clit, making you quiver. So deliberate with his actions as he purposefully teased you close into edging. You start to whine uncontrollably and grab hold onto his hair to push him closer to you. Resulting in a chuckle that reverberates through your bud, your cry is sensual as you let go of him and hold onto your breasts, playing with your nipples.

"Fuck, you look so hot." Mirio looks at you from between your legs, his blue eyes peering into your glowing, erotic ones. "I'll give you what you want Sunflower, but do me a favor: Don't hold back. I don't care who hears, let them know who you belong to."

You stare back at him flustered, the fault of hot water, or the excitement your powerful boyfriend brings to your flesh cavern. Your nod is subtle, but he catches it quickly, sparking him to make you lose your mind as Mirio dives back in. Without haste, his tongue thrashes around, promising with each taste of you he'll leave you screaming out his name.

The morning after, your body felt tight near your thighs, wishing you washed your hair instead of getting thrown off. Looking a mess, but filled with leftover pleasure. Your voice was loud since you lived to the expectations Mirio requested. Clearing your throat did nothing for you, either. You tried sitting up in the king-size bed but was wrapped in a firm bear hug and a kiss to your fuzzy mane.

"Where are you going, Princess?" His morning voice groaned into your ear.

"Nowhere now with your thick arms around me."

"Because there's no reason to stay up, right? This is where the trip ends, and I'm happy with this."

Mirio snuggles closer to you, your heart flutters, and your smile stretches wide and goofy-like. You're happy that he's in a state of happiness, you can feel the radiation more than usual. "Well, actually, this isn't where the trip ends; I have one more surprise for you."

His messy blond, bed head shuffles behind you; he rotates your waists to stare at you, "What are you talking about, Sunshine?" He tries to rest his shoulder on the pillow while the other hand lays tenderly.

"Get dressed, and I'll show you exactly what I mean."

There was an exception in getting ready; you took your time fixing your hair into a comfortable style deciding whether to leave it in or out, Mirio being a sweetheart asked you to keep it simple to avoid what may come of the day. After leaving the room, you made your way to the massage rooms. The masseuse present was fair and gentle. Making small talk with you, one of them mentioned a noise complaint from an older man. He was complaining about his hotel neighbors yelling about mangoes and cereal in the middle of the night.

"I believe it was the third floor he resided in," The masseuse cooly responded while working the muscles in your calves.

A shock shoots through your body as the dots connect, you try to hide your face further into the cushion. Mirio laughed out loud, "I guess he was hungry but had to wait till the morning, you know?"

"I guess so." 

 The rest of the massage went well, laughing here and there. It was the most relaxed you had been in a while. You remembered to check in on Mirio since he wasn't used to massages and was prone to outbursts of laughter since he's so ticklish. After the massage, he pulled you into a bear hug and smothered you in kisses, declaring, "I wish it were you that touched me like that."

With more trekking, you reached your final destination. Mirio blissfully bounced about, continuously looking at you and back at the environment. "Hot springs? Oh, babe!"

He was so excited; he couldn't form any other words other than how much he loved you. He pulled you close, littering your face with kisses and tight hugs. Couldn't even break his grasp or stop him from being excited, Mirio treasured the way he would love loud, concretely when targeted to you. His smile was just as infectious as your boyfriend made a scene in front of the entrance. Older couples passed by with sweet looks, whispering to themselves, 'the enchantment of young love.'

Management provided a private unisex bath usually reserved for a group of four or less that pass by. Mirio separated from you with a quick peck to the cheek and sprinted into the changing room for something more comfortable for the water. Women mainly littered the hot spring except that not a lot of people occupied the space today. Leaving the worry of interruptions or disturbances to diminish. You were the first to leave the changing room, wrapped in your bathrobe given to you by staff, and you brought your favorite towel for whenever you would go to the beach or spa.

You walked into the unisex area, finding the way into the pool of warmth. As you found your spot, you took off the towel revealing your nude body. Sinking slowly into the hot water, the sensation of heat traveled throughout your being. You took your time getting used to the pool of warmth, making gracious moves to familiarize yourself with the temperature and size of the domain. Momentarily wrapped into a warm blanket of water before you could be covered in the embrace of your sunny beau.

As you looked around, the space was stunning; a subtle but luxurious set up outdoors littered with banzai and bamboo trees all around the wooden barriers. The stones around the water resembled ashy grey marbled crystals, exquisitely scattered. Swishing in the water, you laid onto a pile of smoother rocks. The rocks were gracious to your back as you rested against them. As you reached comfort, the blond-haired man entered the serene environment. His beam caught your attention as he admired you from outside the water. Your smile allured him as your fingers motioned for him to come closer. Not wasting any time, Mirio recklessly dived into the steamy water.

Face colored in horror as he sloshed his way to you, still smiling. Mirio used his body to cloak yours as he grabbed your ass, sneaking a kiss to your cheek. "Who knew you could make the water look so good, Sunflower."

"Since we took that long shower last night, you don't remember?"

"Perhaps, but every shower you take is noteworthy."

You giggled softly in his embrace as he chuckled in response. Hearing his laugh was too divine, while the smile on his face is sickly sweet. He pulled you by your waist, eliminating the space in between you and his muscular figure. He feels warmer than the pool of water you are standing in. You look up to allow him to peck your lips, his index finger traces your jawline, thumb tickling your neck with subtlety. The touch is simple but intensifies the pleasure forming between your legs. He pays attention to your face, knowing it's hard for you to hide your need for him.

"Are you that anxious to be touched?" His question was hiding a seductive undertone. He peers into your eyes while holding your waist with his other hand, pulling you into his thighs, not shying away from how you're making him feel. His hardon grazes against you, "Can't say you're alone in that, my love."

He trails his hands down your body, kneading his fingers into your inner thighs, rubbing any tension he knows the masseuse didn't work out. The motions are gentle but firm as he hums a little tune. It's corrective in further easing your mind. Mirio came closer to your ear with his hums, placing sensual kisses on the sensitive spots of your neck. Freeing one hand, he takes your breast in his grasp, lightly pressing into it. The grip is just how you like it as he pulls his lips away from your neck and hunches over to meet your nipple with his tongue. The first flick leads to a sharp breath of air. He sucks in your supple flesh circulating your sensitive nerves.

Drowning in the feeling of him touching you, it's reminiscent of the first time you became intimate, and your body is over the moon. His other hand cups your free breast as he smothers them in the kisses they deserved when he wasn't able to see you and had to heal. Mirio's sensuality builds within as he's already beading precum from his love throbber. The eagerness to touch you as he feels your heart beating out your chest eggs him further, challenging himself to grab both with one hand as he rubs your inner thigh in circular motions.

Too anxious to neglect or half-ass any part of your body, he brushes against your dripping essence, still rubbing circular motions into your thighs, pulling his right hand back close to your face, "I know I'm keeping you in suspense, Sunshine. But I can't control how much you're affecting me right now."

Staring into his eyes, you saw a light that was once dimmed, almost dying to a burning lustful glaze. Nearly intimidating as his hands roamed all of you since he could no longer pay attention to just specific parts of your body, he made a swift move to lift you. No longer on your feet, your legs rest at his sides as he pulls you close. Your legs wrap tightly around him as he places kisses between your nipples, breasts, and neck. Airy moans leave your lips that only he could hear, purposefully grazing his ear with your sweet sounds. Heightening his sense and forming goosebumps on the traps of his neck and ongoing down his arms. A deep grunt escapes from Mirio's thin lips as he balances himself with you.

You rub the back of his neck, a trigger that always sets him off. He breathes in through his nose controlling his urges. Whether the reason is the way you would tip-toe to do it, the feel of your hands caressing him or the glow within your eyes that makes him grip you carefully. No way would he drop you, but you could feel his urge to melt. While preparing you for what's been on his mind since entering the luxury hot spring, he prods you with his cock. Pressing into your bud to tease, almost tickling. Still breathing down the side of his neck, you whimper, "Mir, please..."

"Nice try my sunshine, I'm just feeling how ready you are for me, I'll give you exactly what you want."

Deliberately and poise is the impact Mirio places into the junction of your thighs. Your arms wrapped around his shoulder blades, daring to bite at his shoulder to make contact quicker. His thrust made the perfect adjustment to your sopping core. You are gasping harshly into a sensual moan, as he licks the side of your neck behind your ear. The sensation makes you shiver close to him.

"Damn, Sunshine, you're sucking me in. I feel so connected to you."

"I agree, baby. Now, are you gonna move?"

A low chuckle escapes as he grins, "You're so greedy."

His thrusts are scarce as he relishes your inner muscles squeezing onto him tightly, refusing to let him go. Without warning, Mirio thrusts deeply within you. You grip onto him tightly as he licks the sensitive spots on your neck. The thrusts match how quick his hips roll into you, stretching your flower out with ease. The muscle memory of him coming into play as the sensuality leads to chill all throughout your body and hardening your nipples.

Mirio's passionate grunts reverberate through your ears, sending the shock waves straight to your silk igloo. The divinity in hearing them makes your moans louder and higher in pitch. He holds onto your frame like he'll lose you all while hitting your cervix, insanely intoxicating. Your legs tremble as you feel your body ready to give out.

"I hope you're not trying to cum just yet, my Sunflower." Pushing his cock further into you with each bounce, fucking you speechless. "I haven't even fucked you into every nook and cranny here."

His voice in your ear made your pussy turn into a waterfall. The sloshing rampage in your pink pearl wouldn't stop as Mirio kept a pace matching each broken moan coming from you. Your thighs were a clear indication when the coil within you read itself to be snapped. There was no letting up and stopping yourself from crying out his name or how hard the pounding jogged your brain.

With his rod expanding within you by another inch, you knew he was close. Readjusting his hands to grip your thighs, not before a playful smack to your ass. You wasted no time hooking one of your arms behind his neck before he pounded your flower. Too delicious to feel anything but pleasure, reaching your peak, you take soft nibbles into his shoulder in hopes for the coil to pop and overrun you into oblivion. Your body shivers within his hold as your cup begins to overflow. You grasp desperately to Mirio as he maneuvers your body to bounce on top of him, continuously smacking your ass.

You jolt from each smack as you tighten around Mirio's love rod, making less than unintelligible noises. His smirk is hidden from you, but you know it's there as his voice reaches a level of cockiness, "I feel how close you are, Princess."

No time to respond with a smartass remark, you're too enveloped in the sensations given. Short of breath, eyes closed tight as your chest tightens, the pressure rises until it's too much to bear, alluding to the build-up of your cream canal. The coil pulled so tightly finally snaps, as your body unravels within your buff boyfriend's arms. The orgasm hits and sticks, achieving the takeover of your nerves and sinking your body low into Mirio as he finishes inside of you, spreading both your cheeks to gain control.

His growl fluttered your pussy as he filled you with his seed, his hands imprinting your pert ass as the force of his thrusts stopped his touch from being gentle at the moment. You wince from the impact of his tense fingers against your supple skin, knowing a bruise will linger soon. You let out a deep gasp as you stare at your boyfriend. He regains composure quickly while holding you, making a noble face, with a goofy smile as he stares back. You shy from him as his face is too angelic compared to what you just finished doing.

"Hey babe, could you let me down?"

"Of course, Beautiful."

He rests your feet back into the warm, soothing water. You cup his face gently, pushing him into the corner where your towels and bathrobes laid. Your legs wobble as you push him back onto your robes, eager to drop to your knees. The water rushes through your thighs, tickling you, sensationalizing your clit in the process. There's no other way to stop it than to stand, and yet as you're steady in crouch form, your mouth envelops onto Mirio's love rod. A sharp gasp escapes and a fist clenches as he restrains himself from pushing your head down.

His gasps are loud with each soul-suck you perform, even yelling out your name at times. Surely some neighbors are above and below, but there are not enough hands in the world to cover your lover's mouth. He stares intently at you as his throbber expands with each slurp you provide. You return his gaze, his face is overly flushed as he calls out to you, fiercely.

"Fuck, you look amazing, babe. Your eyes are so beautiful." The passion he feels within achieving all the pressure you put and knowingly feel like he's curling his toes underwater. He's so close you can feel his balls twitch, even his growl is becoming more prominent. You push to get him to finish in your mouth, and yet he advances beforehand, raising your mouth off his cock and turning your body around to lift you and rest your tush onto his wide thighs.

"Not so fast my Sunflower, I'm not ready to blast off." Mirio easily controls your body, keeping your frame close to his throbber near your slit, dripping with essence, causing him to slip in with ease. You gasp in unison as your rosebud tightened around him, "Damn, there you go sucking me in."

"At this rate, I have to make you scream and shout to the whole world." Wasting no time, Mirio planted your face down, ass up into your robes while still inside you leaving little time to react.

Without warning, he propelled deep into your dripping flower. The impact indeed rough was enticing as he bent over close to your ear, breath huffing as he kissed your neck. Jittery to your sweet spot being acknowledged, he stands to smack your ass listening to the echo through the resort. It's enough to rattle you into oblivion. His hips roll fiercely into you as if the spanking was the sound to begin a race: Whether it was against himself or you was the mystery.

On the verge of tears, you felt your body surge with mighty ripples of water controlled by earthquakes. A well-acquainted feeling, and yet it was estranged. You murmured how close you were, and Mirio's grunts shook you to your core, tightening around him. He groaned rather harshly as he smacked your ass again, loading you up with all of him. The coil within you once again burned, binding brashly.

"Babe, I can't hold back," Your legs tense as each of your moans shudders out your full lips, "You feel so fucking good."

The master of positions, he places you onto the flat surface of the hot tub. His intent to drive you mad working as his hands lay firmly at your sides, to rub into your thick, soft ass. He holds you from behind, drilling his love rod into you deep. Your pussy clenches to him with unfailing devotion, as your final moans end your build-up. You stretch your hands out to grab Mirio's wrist as he deeply grunts for the last time as he finishes inside of you again. His cock twitches with ferocity as he clenches your hips. His breaths graze the back of the neck roughly, you stand slowly to gather feeling back in your legs.

Your body tries to adjust to the position as you stretch as high into the sky as possible. But your thighs hysterically give out, and you stumble into the embrace of Mirio. He's holding you from behind with a tired, yet satisfied smile. It's enough to release a light chuckle as sweat drips from his now messy hair. You lean back onto his chest with a huge exhale.

"Did I go overboard, Sunshine?" He crossed his arms around your waist.

"Not at all, you went above and beyond. I can stand now, but when we get back to the room, I think I might pass out."

A hearty laugh erupted from your blonde beau, loud enough to echo, and you could have sworn you saw a tear from his cobalt eyes. The vibration of his laughter traveled to his chest, feeling like the ground under your feet would crumble, jumping your heart rate. 

"I'm sorry for laughing, Princess, but I just think you're so funny."

"What did I say that made you laugh?"

"The fact that you thought you would be sleeping when we're back at the room."

[lyb-s]

like i want u // l.f.l

{i just really want to practice writing out confession scenes sorry sndkandsja}

sleepless one in the mornings were frequent between you and felix, since you and a few of your friends were sleeping over at his place. everyone has just finished enjoying a movie marathon and drifted to their full, sleeping states upstairs. but here you were, going downstairs because of felix’s absence. turns out he was just chilling in the dimly-lit kitchen, leaning over the counter while drinking a glass of water as his phone was mindlessly playing random spotify tunes.

he got startled by your presence. “oh g--y/n? why aren’t you asleep?” he rasped quietly, and you could feel your insides squeal.

“what about you? why are YOU still awake?” you added on his question to tease. there was absolutely no reason for you to be awake right now but, is felix not a good enough reason?

you swear you could feel your heart pound faster against your chest when he simply just stared down at you and smirked in the warm darkness, sipping his water and placing it down on the counter. you forgot you even asked a question as you sat on the stool of the kitchen island, sitting in a comfortable silence as you both let the music flow throughout the serene space of the room.

actually the silence was far from comfortable. honestly, there was a huge cloud of tension raining over both of you. you and felix have always been close and joked around almost a little too often— always passing each other little signals that you liked one another, but was always dismissed by humor and doubt. because even if you spend time with each other during the daylight, play-flirting and being apologetically touchy; the night comes and that’s when you lie down on your bed and stare at the ceiling, processing in your head what you did and what you didn’t do with him, if he really did like you or if it was just a gimmick of your delusion. because everything was there yet not unable to reach, and you wouldn’t know why.

like little hesitant lovebirds who cage their own love language.

you were snapped out of your train of aimless thoughts when felix placed his glass on the counter a little loudly. “you didn’t answer my question?” his voice was a loud mumble.

you shrugged. you were just restless, and felix being there, it almost felt like it sunrise was already passing by. and another day of both of you throwing and missing obvious signs would come by again, something you dreaded yet couldn’t get enough of. you stood up from the stool and tucked your hood over your head, clasping your hands together and placing your elbow on the cold quartz counter. “well i...” you shrugged again. that’s enough of an answer for him, right?

he gazed down at you with glossy eyes and the tension between both of you intensified further, feeling your heartbeat flutter. “why do you never use your words?..” he muttered breathily in a quiet manner. there was so many suggestions to what he said, saying too much about what’s happening between both of you that out of defense you dismissed it again, just laughing and shaking your head. almost suggesting that you thought he was being ridiculous.

he must’ve been hurt because he tore his stare away from you and continued to drink from his half-filled cup again. and honestly you didn’t intend to, you wanted anything but to hurt him, it’s just.. you’re too much of a reluctant person.

another song took place from the one that previously played. your eyes almost lit up. you remember suggesting him this song one restless midnight, you didn’t expect him to add it in his playlist.

he wolfishly smiled at you, meaning he had something in mind. it made you shudder. “what?” you let out silently.

“may we?...” he gestured that both of you slow dance to the song.

“lix, i’m not a dancer!” you opposed in a whisper-yell while laughing.

“yeah right, c’mere.” and before you could even protest, he pulls you in, gently placing his hands on your waist to grip onto your body and tug you near him. you were lucky the kitchen lights were faint and muted, because he could probably see how fazed you are by his sudden physical contact. “we’ve done it before during prom, so why are you still surprised?”

how is he so witty?

oh right, it’s 1 in the morning. he’s probably all sleepy and dazed. he wouldn’t be doing this if he was fully awake. 

when he sees how unresponsive you are, he simply laughs quietly and uses his one hand to lock your arms around his shoulders. what you didn’t know was that he was just as flustered as you are by the position both of you were in right now, being swayed side by side leisurely as the slowed song echoed through the room. his heart is thumping nervously, but his touch on you soothed him.

there was this awkward space between both of you, but as he was pulling you closer, you leaned in, thinking you were confident. but you almost panicked by how much you closed the distance off more than you intended to, all thanks to felix’s sudden implication.

he was so, so dangerously close to your face. yet both of you would hate to complain right now, it’s just that it feels wrong to not call it love. just friends don’t do this.

felix had held in so much, withdrawing too many times because he didn’t know whether you truly loved him or not. he’d hint you so many times with random innuendos but you always brushed them off. he’d lie if he said it didn’t hurt. it truly did but he kept on going because... it was you. he liked you.

and this last dance? and yes, last. he would treasure this forever because he’s so close to giving up. he can’t love you if he doesn’t know you like him back.

in fact, the gap between both of you pained him so much. he wants to go all in, kiss you, hold you like you were his world. but he can only hold onto you with his eyes until you say yes to him.

he subconsciously rubbed your waist with his thumb. you wanted nothing more than to encase your lips in his but what was holding you back so much? 

he smiled almost sadly at you, your heart suddenly aching badly. you played so goddamn dense without wanting to. maybe it’s time you actually do something. if you missed the chance, you might see tomorrow as the same thing again until both of you get tired from each other.

you wanted anything but that to happen.

“l-lix?” you managed to stutter out.

“hm?” he hummed.

you murmured weakly. “is it wrong for us to be doing this right now?..”

he went silent for a few seconds. “...what do you mean?..this?..” he pulls you in impossibly closer as he looked down at you worriedly, the action flustering you more.

“y-you know... because... you’re not mine..” you replied.

your response frustrated him so much. what was the intention behind your sentence? did you mean it was wrong because you wanted to do this while having him as yours or it was wrong because both of you are nothing?

out of impulsivity, his hold on your waist tightened discreetly. he pushed you up against a wall slowly and carefully, the gaze you couldn’t meet staring down at you. “please, tell me what you mean..” his voice was almost shaky. he places a finger under your jaw to tilt your face up, patiently yet also impatiently waiting for a clear response.

“l-like, i like you, but...” even you became frustrated with yourself. how were you supposed to say this if he was making you look him in the eye? 

but you knew, he wanted you to say something

his guts dropped when he heard you say “but.”. he immediately assumed you were conflicted and proceeded to brush off his expectations. “of course, you like me.” he let out sheepishly yet hopelessly. “because you like me as a friend, right?” the words “friend” pricking a thorn in his heart. he bid a quiet goodbye, his hands sliding off of you but no, you wouldn’t let him walk out on you.

“w-wait, lix! goddamnit--” you clutched onto the fabric of his shirt to stop him from moving. he paused, looking at you deadpanned it almost made you want to give up. his intimidation interfered with what you were about to say. you were almost surprised by how quickly his mood changed, but that wasn’t going to stop you at all.

“i-i didn’t mean just LIKE you. i meant like...like..”

“like i want you.”

upon hearing those words he wasted no time latching his fingers onto your waist and press you against the cold wall again. his face was serious but his internal smile was reaching ear to ear, leaning in to finally kiss you like both of you have always longed for.

his first kiss was gentle, inflicting his lips on yours so calmly yet it thrilled you into your core, millions of blooming butterflies swarming your stomach. your ears heated up, your face reddening when he pulled away only to go in again, buzzing into your lips deeper. his touch and movements were so passionate you could melt into a puddle, your knees almost weakening when he draws himself away again to look down at you. his lips were velvety and plump, hauling a small breath and you could feel his cold exhale on your own.

“one more..” he muttered softly to himself, driving you insane as he dove in and impose another kiss. giggles erupted from you unexpectedly which made him smile as his lips moved against yours, his hands feeling up against the curve of your figure. you yelped quietly when he bit down on your lip. he chuckled at your reaction, making up for it by pecking your lips lightly.

“so...what was that “but” in your statement earlier?” he inquired, face still close to yours.

“i..i actually don’t know.” you were unable to respond, so dazed by his actions that the effects wouldn’t wear off.

your natural reaction amused him, unable to hold back the desire to register his lips against yours again. and let’s say the rest of the quiet, muted moon hours were full of quiet chuckles and sweet nothings, and not to mention, a few more helpless kisses.

[flowerfan2]

One Night in Milwaukee

David/Patrick, 4700 words, A03

A little angsty-with-a-happy-ending, h/c one-shot.  Happy Friday!

Summary:  Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough.  Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

*****

The announcement at the gate is almost impossible to understand, but David gets the gist anyway.  His flight to Toronto is cancelled, and no further flights will be leaving until at least tomorrow morning.

He immediately starts searching on his phone for a nearby hotel, wishing he had bitten the bullet and done so hours ago.  It’s nearly midnight and he’s exhausted, having spent the best part of six hours in the Milwaukee airport as his connecting flight got delayed again and again.  He’s just about to reserve a room when a nearby airline employee is accosted by an impatient couple.  David stands up and drifts close enough to listen in – at least her words are clearer than those coming over the PA system.

Apparently due to the blizzard many roads are impassable, and passengers are being encouraged not to leave the airport.  Even if they make it to a hotel, the airline employee explains, they will almost certainly have trouble returning in the morning.  She encourages the couple to stay at the airport overnight if getting out on a flight tomorrow morning is their goal.  

David sighs, grabs his bag, and makes his way over to the long line of passengers hoping to rebook their flights for the next day.  He’s reached that state of tiredness when he can’t even focus on things around him.  He doesn’t even bother scrolling through his phone, he just tunes out and shuffles forward until his turn comes.

It’s not as if it even matters if he gets to Toronto tonight, or tomorrow.  There’s no one waiting at home for him, no one who will care if when he gets home.  It’s been more than three years since he’s had anyone like that.  Three years since he lost the best thing that ever happened to him.

David’s done the best he can to keep busy, now that the initial period of paralyzing depression is in his rear view.  He works out, and keeps up with current events, and stays out of bars.  He lives in Toronto, someplace familiar enough to be comfortable, yet completely bare of memories of Patrick.

For the past few weeks he’s been hanging out with Alexis at her condo in Brooklyn.  She had decided to throw a party for American Thanksgiving, which David thought was actually in poor taste but somehow didn’t manage to convey to Alexis until the day before.  In the end they cooked a bunch of food and donated it to a homeless shelter so he figures they did okay.  It had been good to spend time with his sister, but she is busy with her job and her friends and eventually David had to head back home, which brought him to this endless stopover in Milwaukee.  

David tries his best to be civil as he is tentatively booked onto an 8:35 a.m. flight the next morning.

“Thanks for flying with us,” the perky gate attendant says as she hands him his new ticket.  “Please make your way to the lobby.  This area will be closing soon.”

David blinks at her, confused.  “Excuse me?”

“Please make your way to the lobby, sir.  Passengers can’t remain by the gates overnight.”

David shakes his head and steps away as the next impatient customer pushes forward, and the woman’s instruction soon becomes clear.  Everyone at the gates is being herded away, back out past security and to the much smaller lobby area.  So not only does he have to spend the night in the Milwaukee airport, he’s got to fight for a chair again.  Fantastic.

Miraculously David manages to find an empty spot at the end of a row, near a chilly expanse of glass with a view of the storm outside.  He flops down with his bag next to him and stares for a while, not able to see much except swirling flakes illuminated by the flood lights on the tarmac.  

After a while David drapes his leather jacket over his head to block out the evil florescent overheads and leans back, trying to doze off.  He knows it’s going to be next to impossible to sleep like this, but he’s got nothing better to do.  He vaguely notices someone approaching him, looking for a place to sit, and he tugs his bag off the empty seat next to him so the man can sit down.  David may not be a nice person, but he’s not a complete asshole.  

<i>A nice person.</i>  Once upon a time, there was someone nice who cared about David, and who David cared about more than he ever thought possible.  It was like something out of a fairy tale, right up until the end.  David’s still not sure what happened, but the outcome was clear enough – Patrick was tired of him, and so that was that.  No fiancé, no wedding, no happy ending in Schitt’s Creek.  Rosebud Motel Group bought out Patrick’s share of Rose Apothecary, and David moved the store closer to Toronto, where it slowly became just a source for toiletries for the motel chain.  Eventually the physical location closed, and David’s role dwindled to almost nothing.

It’s been more than three years, but his heart still aches when he thinks about Patrick.  He can still hear his voice in his head, giving him shit or whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Bizarrely, it’s at that very moment when he hears Patrick’s voice again, and it’s most decidedly not in his head.

“Thanks, that would be great.”

David sits up, his jacket sliding on to his lap, and his jaw drops.  Sitting right next to him, taking an orange polyester blanket from an airline employee, is Patrick.  He’s got a hoodie pulled up on his head over a ball cap, but it’s obviously him.

“Oh my god,” David breathes out, feeling his stomach fall.  This can’t be happening.

“David?”  Patrick turns to him.  “Oh.  Wow.  What are the odds?”

“What – what are you doing here?”

Patrick is in the Milwaukee airport, backpack on the floor by his legs.  It’s no mystery what he’s doing here.  But David’s brain refuses to process this.

“My flight was cancelled.”  Patrick fidgets with his hat, not really looking at David.  

“But why are you sitting here?”

Again, not a mystery.  The whole lobby is packed.  David needs to get a grip and stop asking stupid questions.  But he’ll need to work himself up to something more on point.  He still can’t get over the fact that Patrick Brewer is sitting next to him.

“Um, right.  I’m sorry.”  Patrick leans forward to grab his bag.  “I’ll, um, go somewhere else.”  

Patrick stands up, and a nearby man spots him, vulture-like and poised to take his chair if he moves away. There’s not another free seat in sight.

“No,” David chokes out.  “No, stay.  It’s all right.”

“Yeah?”  Patrick glances quickly at David and then away again, his shoulders practically up by his ears.  “Okay.  Thanks.”

David focuses on his breathing and presses his face into his hands, hoping Patrick doesn’t notice how close he is to freaking out.  It’s unlikely, but you never know.  If he does notice, at least he probably won’t call him out on it.

“I’m sorry, David.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Or maybe he will.

“I’m fine.”

“I really can leave, there’s a spot against the wall over there-”

“Patrick, for fuck’s sake, it’s fine.  I’m fine.”

“Can I get you something?  I’ve got some water…”

Unbelievable.  “I’m sorry, you can sit here, but if you think there’s anything you can do to make this better, you’re out of your mind.”  David can hear how shrill he is, but he can’t help it.

“Whatever.  It’s not as if I ever knew how to fix us in the first place.”

“It’s not like you tried.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  Patrick says, nearly shouting.

“Um, excuse me, but some people are trying to sleep, man,” a kid in a beanie sitting across the aisle from them interjects.  “You should try it.”

“Eat dirt,” David hisses, and Patrick, that bastard, laughs.

“What?”

“You’re a riot, David.  Sue me.”

David huffs and twists his body away.  He’s not sure how to do this, have an ordinary conversation with Patrick in an airport.  All the anger and hurt he thought he had handled is suddenly back, as painful as ever.

A few minutes later there’s a crinkling sound.  “Want some?”

Patrick is holding a piece of red licorice in front of his face.  

David blinks, disbelieving.  Patrick wiggles the licorice.  “Fine.”  David accepts it and takes a bite, hoping he’s chewing in a sufficiently dignified way.  

“Did you have a nice visit with Alexis?”

David frowns.  “How do you know I was visiting Alexis?”  Alexis had closed ranks against Patrick when it all went down.  David had thought it appropriate at the time, but something in Patrick’s voice tweaks a pang of regret.

“You smell like her.”

“Ew, what?”

“Her perfume.”  Patrick shrugs.  “I recognize it.  Or maybe you’re dating someone who wears it, I don’t know.”

“I’m not.”  As if.  “Guess I spent too long on Alexis’ couch.”  He brushes at the leather jacket on his lap, as if little bits of Alexis would be clinging to it.

“How is she?”

Again, that pang.  “Good.  She’s good.  She’s happy in New York.  She’s got friends – real friends.  Not that she didn’t before, you know, back in-” David can hardly say it, but Patrick nods.  “But now she’s got real friends in New York, so.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Patrick says.

“What about you?  How long have you been away?  Work or pleasure?”

Something comes over Patrick’s face that David can’t describe.  “Well, it definitely wasn’t pleasure.”

The conversation comes to an expectedly awkward end, both of them falling silent.  There’s a group of people behind them who keep arguing over whether they should rent a car and drive to what seems to be a college reunion of some sort.  David wishes they’d just go already.

“Want some more?”  Patrick offers up another piece of licorice, and suddenly making nice isn’t working for David anymore.

“You can’t fix this with candy, Patrick.  Bribes don’t make up for cheating.”

David can feel Patrick bristling next to him.  “I didn’t cheat, David,” he hisses.  “I told you, you just wouldn’t listen.  If you want to keep believing it that’s on you, but I absolutely did not cheat.  I would never do that to you.”

“You wanted to.”

“I did not!”

“Shhhh,” the woman on the other side of Patrick entreats.  “We don’t care.”

David angrily bites off another piece of licorice.  “You told me Mark was just a guy you met at the community center, and then all of a sudden he’s in the store when I’m not there.”

“We needed someone else to work on busy days when you had vendor visits – we agreed on that.  I was training him!”

“You never told me.  And when I came in-”

“He was just helping me put some boxes away.”

“I can’t believe we’re having this discussion again,” David says, tears welling in his eyes.  He remembers the moment like it was yesterday, coming into the back room and finding Patrick with a tall, slim, dark-haired stranger, the man reaching up around Patrick, pressing him into the shelves.

“What do you mean again?  We never had it in the first place.  You came in, screamed at me, and left.  You never let me explain.”

“What kind of explanation would you have given me?  What could you possibly say?  You’d been out every night that week with lame excuses, you kept finding reasons to avoid me, and then I find you with someone else.”

“David…” Patrick takes in a long, deep breath, and lets it out again.  “David.  I was out so much because I was planning your birthday party.”

David stares at him.  “That’s impossible.  Stevie would have told me.  Or Alexis.”

“I didn’t tell Stevie, or anyone in Schitt’s Creek.  I didn’t want them to give it away.  Mark was actually helping me.  His family has an orchard out near Elm Valley, with an outdoor pavilion that was really pretty nice.  I was thinking about having it there so I drove over to see it after work.  Unfortunately, the first time I went, it started raining, so I went back the next night.  Mark said there was a spectacular sunset view, but I wanted to see it for myself.”

“That’s… that’s only two nights.  What about the others?”

“It <i>was</i> only two nights, David.  Maybe my excuses weren’t that great, but it was only two nights.  The rest of them we spent together just like always.”

David lets himself really look at Patrick, who is looking right back at him.  He seems, possibly, just as hurt and miserable as David feels.  Maybe more.

“It seemed like more than two,” David says pathetically.  “Why, um, why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“You blocked my number.”

It’s true.  Not his most mature moment. “Oh.”

“I would have thought,” Patrick starts, and then shakes his head and presses his fingers to his mouth.

“What?”

“No, forget it.  It’s history now, right?”  Patrick tugs his ball cap down, shading his eyes.  

“What were you going to say?”

Patrick wrings his hands together, then glances up at David and then back at his hands.  “Just that, you know, in the context of everything we meant to each other, given that we were <i>in love,</i> and <i>engaged,</i> that you might have cut me a break and listened to me instead of jumping to such a ridiculous conclusion.”

“Ridiculous?” David scoffs, trying not to let Patrick’s all too valid words sink in.  “Hardly.  It’s no different than how every relationship I’ve been in has ended.  I’m always left behind.  Too much.  I’m surprised we lasted as long as we did.”

“David.”  Patrick grabs his hands, and David stiffens.  “You were never too much for me.  I’m not everyone else.  And I didn’t leave you behind.  You left me.”

David feels a rush of shame, and Patrick just squeezes his hands tighter.  It’s not as if he’s never wondered if he hadn’t screwed up, leaving the way he did.  He knows he probably did.  It’s just that it’s striking him now how very likely it is that his misery has been almost entirely of his own making.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you don’t deserve to believe that I would do that to you.”

David tugs his hands out of Patrick’s.  “Well, I’m sure you’re better off now anyway.”

“Not even a little.”  Patrick’s voice is soft and sad, and David can’t help meeting his eyes.  What he sees is devastating.  “Sure, I dated for a while, once I was able to get out of bed, but I gave it up after a few disasters.  You spoiled me for anyone else.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Maybe it’s just that my heart was so thoroughly broken, no ordinary guy had a chance.”  The silence stretches, and then Patrick says, his voice thready, “How about you?”

There’s a catch in his voice, but something in his tone makes David’s heart skip a beat.  It’s an opening he never expected.

“I never met anyone else either.  Didn’t even try.”  David clears his throat and looks up, catching Patrick’s gaze.  For all the fear he’s shown in the past, for all that his insecurities ruined them, David feels like he owes Patrick a moment of bravery.  “There was no point, not when I’m still in love with you.”

Patrick stares at him, eyes wide, and then abruptly stands up.  “Save my seat,” he says, and strides away, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

“Well, maybe now I get can some sleep,” the rude kid with the beanie grumbles, and David barely restrains himself from throwing something at him.

“We’re having a moment, here,” David says.

“Might go better if you fucking apologized,” the kid replies, pulling his orange airline blanket up over his head.

“He’s got a point.”  The woman on the other side of Patrick’s seat gives David a pointed look that would put Ronnie Lee to shame.  “Sounds like you really messed up.”

“Who are you, anyway?” David snaps.

“Audrey.  Nice to meet you, David,” the woman sasses back, tossing her short black hair.  

“Oh my god.”  David stands up, arms wrapped tight around his body, and scans the lobby for Patrick.  “He probably just went to the bathroom.  I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

“I hope for your sake you’re right,” Audrey replies.  “But if you want to go look for him, I’ll keep an eye on your stuff.  There’s no way I’m falling asleep in this place.  Too noisy.”

David looks her up and down, and then decides he doesn’t care whether she steals his bag.  There’s more at stake here than an aging laptop.  “Thanks.”

He weaves his way through the seating area, stepping around families sleeping on the floor and people stretched out in every available space.  He shudders to think about putting his face anywhere near the carpet and the plethora of germs that must live there.  He’ll never be that tired.

There’s a food court around the corner, all the restaurants closed with metal gates drawn down.   It’s darker here, and quiet.  The scattered tables and chairs are mostly empty, the metal furniture not particularly conducive to sleeping.

Patrick’s standing in front of the Cinnabon.

“They open at 5,” he says, not looking at David.  “Only four hours to go.”

“Good to know.”  David moves closer, trying to see Patrick’s face, but between the dim lighting and the way Patrick keeps ducking his head, he can’t see much.  

“Look, Patrick.  I, um, I know it’s probably too late, but.”  David leans his head back and blinks up at the ceiling.  “I’m sorry. Truly sorry.  I should have trusted you.”

Patrick shrugs.  “Yeah.  You should have.”

David sucks on his lip, not sure where to go from here.  “Maybe we could talk about it?”  This sounds like torture, but he doesn’t see too many other options, and they’re already in hell.

Patrick nods, and David tries to tell himself that this is a good sign.  He spots a nearby open table and reaches to pull Patrick towards it, but he has barely grasped Patrick’s arm when he flinches and pulls away.  

“Patrick?” David moves closer.  Patrick’s eyes are squeezed together in pain.

“Patrick, wait, are you hurt?  What’s wrong?”  David’s hands flutter towards Patrick’s shoulders, afraid to cause further distress.

“No, sorry, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” Patrick turns away, but now David sees how stiffy he’s holding himself, how the puffiness in his face probably isn’t just due to airport overheating.  All of David’s anger and hurt flow out of him, replaced by an urgent concern.  Something isn’t right.

“Patrick,” David says, as calmly as he can.  “Come sit down with me?”

Patrick glances at him and nods, and lets David lead them over to a table.

They sit next to each other, Patrick’s whole body radiating discomfort.  David forces himself to wait, to breathe.  To give Patrick a moment.  “Sweetheart,” he says finally, the endearment purposeful and honest, “what happened?”

Patrick takes in a long breath and lets it out.  “I was attacked.”  He’s speaking softly but steadily, his gaze fixed straight ahead.  “Three nights ago, coming out of a bar with my cousin Jamie.  He’s only nineteen-” Patrick’s voice breaks and he sucks in air, then goes on.  “He wasn’t hurt, thank god.  He got away.  But I-” Patrick huffs a bitter laugh.  “I got a little banged up.”

Patrick turns towards David, sliding his hoodie off of his head and removing his hat.  There’s a dark purple bruise on his temple, and a bandage running from the top right corner of his forehead back to his ear.  

“Oh my god, Patrick,” David reaches for him, then stops himself.  “Where – where else, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Couple of broken ribs, bruises,” Patrick indicates his right side and upper arm.  “Eight stitches my on head.”

“Come here, come here,” David can’t help himself, he walks his fingers onto Patrick’s shoulders and eases him in.  Patrick sags into the embrace, his face nestling into that space against David’s neck that used to belong only to him.  “I’m so sorry, Patrick, I’m so sorry.”  David holds him gently, rubbing his back with careful strokes.  He feels like his heart is going to burst.  Patrick sniffles into David’s neck, trying not to cry, and David circles his arms around him.  “I’ve got you,” David soothes.  “You’re okay.”

David doesn’t ever want to let Patrick go, but after a minute or so Patrick starts to pull back, and David has no choice. He lets his fingers skim down Patrick’s arms as he straightens up.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says into the awkward silence.  

“Yeah, well.  After screwing everything else up, seems like the least I can do.”  David looks around and stands up, rubbing his hands on his thighs.  “Shall we go back and make sure Audrey hasn’t stolen our bags?”

“Who’s Audrey?”

David can’t help but stay near Patrick as they make their way to their seats, his hand on the small of his back.  Patrick lets him, leaning into his side, a hundred and eighty degree reversal from where they were an hour ago.

He can’t imagine what Patrick is feeling.  Despite all the crap David has gone through in his life, he’s never been the victim of a what he assumes was a hate crime.  And the fact that Patrick is traveling by himself… where was he when he got assaulted?  Who was there for him?

<i>You should have been there,</i> David’s guilty mind supplies.  If David hadn’t ruined their lives with his self-doubt, he would have been there for Patrick.  For better or for worse.  Of course, if they were still together, nothing like this would have happened to Patrick in the first place, because they would have been safe in Schitt’s Creek where they belonged.

They arrange themselves in their miraculously still empty seats, David pulling the orange blanket up over them both.  He holds out his arm and Patrick leans into him, resting his head on his shoulder. Patrick’s seated to his right, so it’s his uninjured left side up against David.

The feel of Patrick’s body against his is so familiar and yet it’s been so long, it makes David want to cry.  Instead he gently curls himself protectively around Patrick’s body and closes his eyes.

Patrick turns into him, his arm going around David’s waist and his face pressing against his neck.  “Missed you,” he whispers into David’s skin.

“You too,” David sighs into Patrick’s hair.  “So much, Patrick.  So much.”

David dozes for a while and eventually falls asleep, waking only when the PA system starts making incomprehensible flight announcements.  Patrick is already awake, leaning forward and digging around in his backpack.  

David blinks blearily at him as he remembers the events of the night before.  It seems like a dream, but Patrick is right there in front of him, solid and real.  He glances up at the clock on the wall. Five-fifteen.  “Wanna get a Cinnabon?” he asks, his voice scratchy.  It’s not the best line he could have come up with, but he figures Patrick must be hungry too.

“No, sorry, they said my flight’s here.  I have to go to the gate.”

David suddenly feels faint.  “What – no – that’s impossible.  The first flight to Toronto isn’t until eight something, they put me on the earliest one, that’s what they told me at the desk-”

“David.”  Patrick’s eyes are heavy and sad.  “I’m not going to Toronto.”

“But you said-” He didn’t say, David realizes.  He just assumed they were both on their way back home.

“It happened in Toronto,” Patrick says, not needing to identify what “it” he’s referring to as he tugs the hood of his sweatshirt over his ball cap.  “I decided I needed to get away for a while.  Put some distance between me and all that.”

David’s heart is pounding hard in his chest.  It’s a wonder Patrick can’t hear it.  “Where are you going?”  

“Florida.  My parents bought a little house there, they use it in the winter but not until after Christmas, so it’s empty now.”  Patrick sighs and hoists his backpack up, wincing.  “It’s been really good to see you, David.”

Patrick gives David a sad little smile, and starts walking away.

There’s a moment when David actually imagines letting Patrick go, and he wants to slap himself silly.

“Patrick, wait.”  He scrambles to grab his bag and jogs after him.  “Let me come with you.”

Patrick looks puzzled as they join the line of bleary-eyed people waiting to take off their shoes and slide their belongings through the scanner.  “Okay, but once you go through you won’t be able to get to the food court.”

“No, Patrick – I mean to Florida.”

“You hate Florida,” Patrick replies automatically.

“That is entirely besides the point.”

“You can’t come with me.  You have a life, David.”

“Patrick, I don’t.  Not one I want.  Not without you.”

This gets Patrick’s attention, and he steps out of the line.  “What are you talking about?

David moves towards him, his whole body trembling.  “I am so, so sorry I messed things up between us.  I know how badly I hurt you. I have changed, though, I’ve been in therapy for real, and I’ll do whatever it takes…” He sucks in a breath and races on before Patrick can interrupt.  “I will regret it forever, what I did to you, and it’s probably unforgivable.  But if – if you think it’s not, if you think maybe you could give me another chance, please, let me come with you.”

“David…”

“I won’t give up on us again.  And I don’t… I don’t want to say goodbye.  Not yet.”  David can feel his throat tightening up.  “Not if there’s any possibility… Let’s try.  On whatever terms you want, for however long.  Please.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”  But Patrick’s eyes are saying what his words aren’t, and David holds his gaze, hope building in his chest.

“I think it’s the only decent idea I’ve had in years.”  David reaches out and twines his index finger around Patrick’s, a single point of contact holding them together.  “I bet we can find someplace to go hiking in Florida.  With lots of bugs, and, um, maybe alligators?”

Patrick’s eyes flicker down to their hands, and back up to David.  “You’d face alligators for me?”

“Yes.”

“And bugs too?”

David feels his heart leap, and he struggles not to smile.  “Yes.  I will face a reasonable number of bugs for you.”  He takes a deep breath.  “It doesn’t have to mean we’re together, you don’t have to commit to anything-”

“What if I want to?”

David pulls Patrick’s hand up and presses it tight against his chest.  “Then I’m not going to argue with you,” David says breathlessly.  

“That would be a first,” Patrick says, and David chokes out a laugh.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

They crash together lips first, David’s arms going around Patrick’s shoulders and Patrick’s hands grabbing at David’s hips.  David can’t get enough, and apparently neither can Patrick, mouths open and tongues tasting in a mad rush.  It’s sloppy and ridiculous and David is going to remember it for the rest of his life.  When they finally come up for air, they realize that everyone in the security line is cheering and clapping, and David rests his forehead against Patrick’s.

“They’re taking video, aren’t they,” David says.

“Hashtag ‘one night in Milwaukee,’” Audrey hoots at them as she takes off her boots and sets them in a plastic bin.  “Glad you got your head out of your ass, David.”

“Me too,” says Patrick, herding David back towards the screening line.  “Just promise me one thing.”

David searches Patrick’s face, but he’s smiling, and he can’t help a matching smile from stretching his own cheeks.  “Anything.”

“Pretty sure our flight’s going to be packed.  I get the window seat.”

[uncommoncold]

Midnight Encounter

Summary: After the music quiets and the lights fade, how does Yeosang spend his time?

Word Count: 2.2k

Content Warning: M/F, Dominance and Submission, Kang Yeosang Sub, Toys, Pegging, Oral

The roar of the crowd had long since faded, the press and the fans were gone. The rest of the group had gone to a nearby restaurant but he had slipped quietly away. No one had voiced a word of dissent, they knew where he was going. As he stood waiting for the elevator, someone stepped up beside him. The scent of her perfume tickled his nose and he smiled. Without looking down at her, he knew. He reached out and pressed the call button for the elevator yet again.

A loud ding signified the arrival of the elevator, the doors slid open. He stepped inside, the woman who had been waiting stepped in beside him. He pressed the button for his floor. She didn’t press any at all, merely moved to lean against the back wall of the elevator. He peeked up at the camera in the corner and chewed on the inside of his cheek, impatiently counting down the floors as they slipped by - eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two.

As he stepped into the hallway, he cast an eye down both sides. Not a soul to be seen. He walked down the hallway, the sound of the woman’s steps a dull, clipped sound against the carpet, echoing quietly behind him. He paused in front of his door and slipped the key card into the slot, the door swung open freely. He didn’t bother to close it behind him as he stepped inside but he heard it quietly close a few moments later, the mechanism clicking as it locked.

He saw the shadow of her reflection behind him in the window in front of him. She looked around curiously, slipping her shoes off and shrugging out of her jacket. She ran an anxious hand over her hair and down over her dress as she set down the small bag she brought with her. Slowly he turned, his heart beating expectant staccato in his chest. For a moment, they stood just staring into each other's eyes. Before he could speak, she crossed the few paces separating them and rose up to kiss him, her fingers slipping around his neck to sink into the thick mass of his hair. He gasped breathlessly but made no move to grab her as he wanted, instead he hesitantly raised his hands to rest on her hips.

She smiled and whispered, “As long as it’s been for us, you’re still such a good boy for me, aren’t you baby?”

As he drew a shuddering breath, he nodded.

“Words, please.” she said firmly.

“Yes.”

“Yes what baby?”

“Yes, Mistress.” His voice was already raw and ragged from desire. He already aching with need and had been since he saw her beside him at the elevator.

“It’s been so long I want to take my time with you but we have all night and right now, I want to see my baby cum for me. Do you want to cum for me Yeosang?” Her slender fingers trailed down over his cheek to trace over his soft lips.

They lingered as he whispered a breathy, “Yes.”

Her fingers slid down over his chin, his throat, and began to work the buttons, slowly revealing his smooth chest. He watched the progress of her small hands over his body. He shrugged off his shirt as she slipped it from his shoulders, his breath caught as she unbuckled his belt and popped open the button of his jeans. A small sound fell from his lips as her cool fingers brushed against the head of his cock which peeked over the edge of his underwear.

“You’re so eager, I love seeing you this way. Finish taking off your clothes, I want to watch you.” Despite having not turned on the lights, there was ample light from the open curtains. The light of the city illuminated each and every motion in a golden glow. She drifted over to sit on the edge of the bed as she watched him disrobed. As he pushed his jeans from his slender hips, his cock sprang free to slap against his stomach. With the last of his clothing removed, he stood before her naked, waiting, wanting. His eyes darted over to the bag she had left by the door before coming back to her.

Her long hair was free around her slender shoulders, her eyes skimmed over him hungrily, possessively. She had asked him once upon a time if he belonged to her, although he hadn’t fully understood what that meant at the time, he did now and he didn’t know how he could ever belong to another. She had claimed him in a way he had never expected to know.

“Stroke your cock for me. Show me what I’ve been missing baby.”

He looked toward the open curtains and started to take a step to close them but she stopped him.

“If you close them, I can’t see you. Are you worried someone might see you standing here jerking off for me? Are you worried they might see you on your knees begging to suck my cock? Are you worried they might see you begging me to fuck you?” A small smile quirked her lips as her words hit him like a punch to the gut, a violent frisson shot through him and his whole body jerked. “Now, show me baby - show me how much you missed me.”

Without further coaxing, he reached and wrapped his fingers around his turgid length. With his eyes locked on hers, his hand began its movement. All too quickly, his breathing grew short, his head fell back as he panted, he remembered then and looked back toward the figure on the bed. “C- Can - Can I cum?” he barely managed to choke out.

She rose and quickly closed the distance, she replaced his hand with her own and with her lips against his ear, she whispered, “Cum for me, baby.”

With a sharp intake of breath, he groaned, turning his head to press his sweaty face against her throat as he climaxed, his seed arching up over his stomach and lower chest. She cooed and petted his sweaty hair, “Good boy, you came so hard for me.”

Her lips found his and he smiled through his exertions. Her praise was like the warmth of the sun on a cold spring day. He savored the taste of her lips, the softness of her touch. She caught his hand and brought it down to the hardness hidden beneath her dress. His heart skipped a beat, she had been wearing it all this time. Despite his release, he felt himself twitch at the realization.

“You like that don’t you baby?” Her voice was a sultry purr.

“Yes Mistress.”

“Take them off, keep them neat.” She stepped back slightly and relaxed to allow him to remove her clothes. As she instructed, he carefully removed and folded each piece of her clothing, laying it to the side almost reverentially.

He gasped quietly as he removed her dress and his eyes fell on the strap-on that she had been wearing. She had secured it with a belt to hold it up against the flat of her stomach. He licked his lips and let out a shuddering breath.

“You like that?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“Do you want to suck my cock for me?”

“Yes Mistress.”

“What do you say?” She caught his chin and raised his face until he looked into her eyes.

Again, he licked his lips, “Please.”

“Please what baby?”

“Please let me suck your cock, Mistress.”

“You are being such a good boy tonight. Is that because it’s been so long?” She moved over and sat down on the edge of the bed, spreading her legs to allow him room to kneel between them. She stroked her hand down along the length as if it were her own flesh.

Without hesitating, he moved to kneel in front of her. “Yes Mistress, I missed you.”

“My sweet boy… suck it, let me see how much you want it, how much you want me to fuck you. That is what you want isn’t it? Tell me what you want.” “I want you to fuck me Mistress. I want your hard cock inside me.”

“You almost make me want to take you now but I want to watch you first…”

His touch, somewhat tentative, as he reached for the strap-on. It wasn’t the first time he had done it. While she couldn’t feel the touch of his lips as they traveled over the length of the plastic, she liked to watch. While it had first struck him as a strange thing to do, he did it for the same reason he did all she asked, to please her. Her pleasure was his own.

Her fingers ran through his hair as she guided his movements. “Enough, I want to fuck you now.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He waited a moment for further instruction.

“On the bed, on your hands and knees.”

As he took his place on the bed, she walked over to the bag she had brought with her and brought it back to the bed. She pulled out a bottle of lubricant and slathered the length of the toy before crawling onto the bed and settling herself between her lover’s spread thighs. She took a moment to admire his sheer beauty, he was exquisite. She ran her hand over his smooth back, over the curve of his ass, feeling the weight of his balls in her hand before she released him and applied a little of lube to him. She tossed the bottle aside and moved closer to him.

“Yeosang,” she whispered his name as she leaned over him. “I’m going to fuck you now but I’m not sure you really want me to. Do you want me to?”

“Yes, Mistress. Please, please fuck me. I need it, I need you to fuck me. Please believe me.”

“I believe you baby, lean back.”

He leaned back a little only to feel the cold wetness of the tip of the toy. He forced himself to relax for the intrusion he knew was coming. She pressed forward, centimeter by centimeter, the toy slipped inside him. Once hilted she said, “It’s in.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and braced himself, his cock jumped against his belly. The idea that she was fucking him, the feeling of fullness, the way he was stretched, the image was obscene and that only thrilled him more. Slowly, she began to move. The sensation was maddening, almost like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch. He arched his back to give her more access. He whimpered, biting the now disheveled bed sheets between his teeth. Then fire raged through him as her fingers closed around his throbbing cock.

“Oh god, please - fuck me, Mistress.”

A sheen of sweat glistened against his skin in the golden light. His pleas became increasingly urgent and incoherent. She stopped moving and the sound of velcro opening echoed in the hotel room. “Roll onto your back.”

With the toy still inside of him, he rolled onto his back and watched as she straddled his hips. He watched in ravenous awe as she guided his length into her. As her heat enveloped him, he fought for control, his head falling back against the pillow with a sonorous groan. Then she began to ride him, one hand reached behind her to continue to fuck him. The two-fold sensation was so intense he was sure he was losing his mind. With a little white of a plea, “May I touch you, Mistress, please.”

“Yes, touch me baby.”

His hands caressed over her smooth thighs, over her rocking hips. As he watched, a single trickle of sweat rolled down between her breasts. Her head fell back, his name falling from her lips as she reached her peak, her body spasming and tightening around him. The added sensation was too much, “Ca- Can I?” Words failed him completely.

He barely heard her, “Yes.”

The world went white behind his eyes as he came. He was barely aware of her moving off of him to lay beside him. He was aware of the sweetness of her lips against him, the feeling of her tongue as it flitted delicately against his lips. “When-” He paused to gasp for breath. “When can I see you again?”

“When? Hm,” She looked thoughtful. “London?”

“London? That’s so far away…” He pouted adorably and she laughed.

“Do you miss me that much when I’m not beside you?”

“Yes.” He caressed her back and side, pulling her a little more firmly against his own sweat slicked skin.

“Then you’ll just have to dream about me when you stroke that beautiful cock of yours won’t you? But I’m sure you already do, don’t you baby?”

With an almost shy smile, he ducked his head to hide in her hair and nodded, “Yes.” He was quiet for a moment. “How long can you stay?”

“Are you sharing this room?”

“No, I told my roommate that I had a guest tonight, he’ll be staying in one of the other guys’ rooms.”

“Then you have me until morning, our games for tonight have just begun…”

Other stories can be found on my Master List

[writings-of-dumpy]

George Weasley and the Girl in Ravenclaw: Part 9

A/N: VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF GUNS, child endangerment (like literally all of Harry Potter), language, mentions of sex, and cliffhanger..

After Dumbledore’s death, Severus Snape had taken over being Headmaster of Hogwarts and judging by the sparse letters from Ginny over the past few months since Christmas holiday, it was an absolute nightmare. Students were treated like slaves and anyone who stepped even a toe out of line would be punished harshly. The order gathered midday during Fred and George’s lunch hour to discuss what to do about the situation since no news of Harry had been brought to their attention.

“Okay, hear me out. This may sound crazy, but Muggles have these things called guns, and if we shoot Snape—or Voldemort, for that matter—in the head, he will probably die. At a minimum, it’s a bit hard to do magic with an obliterated prefrontal cortex,” Raven suggested.  George smiled at her and patted her leg. Since Bill’s wedding, she and George hadn’t had much time together alone. He and Fred ran the shop as best they could, and Raven often took assignments from the order to go to Hogwarts and smuggle supplies to the students.

“If you want to carry a gun, fine, but I’m not sure the rest of us know how to use one,” Lupin said.

“It’s very simple,” Raven said. “Anyway, things are only getting worse, even muggles are starting to notice. I managed to swipe this newspaper that says people have been seeing odd clouds of smoke through the air…”

“Fucking Death Eaters,” Fred, George and Raven said in unison and exhaustion.

“We’ve got to start getting students out of Hogwarts. It’s not safe anymore, especially the muggle-borns,” Tonks said. Raven nodded.

George would constantly worry when Raven made trips to Hogwarts. She traveled through the Forbidden Forest and through the tunnels under the Shrieking Shack to get supplies to students in need there. He knew it was dangerous and if she was ever caught, who knew what would become of her.

“It would have to be all in one night. If students started going missing—especially the ones Yaxley likes to pick on—I’d be found out and killed for sure,” Raven said.

George’s jaw clenched at how casually she took her life. The thought of her not coming back scared the hell out of him, and he wouldn’t let her go alone.

“Fine, then it’ll be more than just you going, I’ll go too,” George offered.

“No, the Ministry has a log in Diagon Alley of strange happenings. A Weasley missing from his own shop would raise red flags,” Lupin reasoned. “Raven, go tonight and talk with Ginny and Neville about possible times that we could sneak muggle-borns out.”

“Done,” Raven agreed.

After the meeting, Raven went up to her space in the attic to supply herself with protectives and supplies the students will need. George rarely went after her because he knew she wanted to be alone as she prepared, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew with every moment she spent inside Hogwarts, the higher her chances of being caught were.

“Ven?” he asked from the doorway. She turned around and smiled at him.

“Hey,” she said and turned back to shrinking bandages and water bottles.

“I’m worried,” George said plainly. “And I’m scared for you.”

Raven looked at him, then zipped up the pack and slung it over her shoulder. “Well, that’s not doing you any favors, is it?”

She went to walk past him and he caught her arm with his hand and gently stopped her. He looked into her eyes and said, “I don’t want you to keep doing this.”

“I’ll come back, I promise. Always, remember?” Raven said and gave his arm a squeeze.

“If you aren’t back by midnight, I’m coming after you,” George said seriously.

“I’ll be back by then, I usually am,” she said. She leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth tenderly and headed out the door. George’s heart skipped a beat and he felt the familiar lust he had for her creep into his mind and his heart swelled. He was sure she was trying to kill him now.

George waited anxiously for closing time to finally arrive so he could head back home and check for Raven. When the cuckoo clock finally struck 10pm, he was already packed and ready. “Come on , Fred, or I’m locking you in.”

“Eager to get home, eh?” Fred said as he tucked his bag under his arm and the pair headed out to close the shop.

“I need to make sure Raven’s okay,” George muttered as he fumbled with his keys. When he finally locked the door, Fred was eyeing him strangely. “What?”

“Are you two finally… you know…” Fred asked and mimed a rude gesture.

“Shagging?! No, are you serious? We’ve only kissed once, and who’s had time with all this, anyway,” George said and gestured to the air.

Fred scoffed, “I’ve had plenty of time.”

“Oh really now, with who?” George challenged.

“Angelina, of course! Where do you think I go every Friday night?” Fred asked. George’s eyes widened. Come to think of it, he had noticed Fred’s sudden disappearance on most Friday evenings, but I guess he assumed Fred was off being alone.

“Unbelievable,” George said.

“No, what’s unbelievable is that you and Ven have only kissed. She’s a good fit for you, just go for it!” Fred encouraged.

George shook his head. “Maybe I LIKE taking my time. Besides, she’s your friend, shouldn’t you be discouraging men from trying to shag her unless she likes them?”

Fred scoffed and shook his head. “You’ve gone mad.”

The subject was dropped once they apparated into the burrow. George walked into the kitchen to find Tonks with Molly sat in a chair.

“What happened?” Fred asked, following George in.

“Harry’s gone to Hogwarts tonight. Raven saw him in the tunnels and told us straight away. He’s going to confront Snape and try to destroy the last horcruxes. All of the Death Eaters will be there at any moment,” Tonks said. “We wanted to tell you. The rest of the Order is ready to go, will you join us?”

“No question,” Fred and George said. George panicked at the thought of every dark wizard, witch and creature swarming on Hogwarts with Raven and his sister in it. He quickly changed into more suitable clothes, then the four of them apparated into the tunnels below the Shrieking Shack. When they arrived, they were greeted by every member of the order, and they made their way through the tunnels. George wondered where Raven was and if she was alright. He expected to see her with the rest of the order, but he couldn’t find her.

“This way,” Kingsley commanded and pointed to the left at a fork in the tunnel. When they approached a dead end, Kingsley leaned against the wall to listen, then knocked four times.

“Wands ready,” he said to the group in a low voice. Slowly, the wall opened and George recognized the Gryffindor common room. Out popped Raven from the side with a grin on her face.

“Hi guys! Come on, Harry’s already headed towards the great hall,” she said and George felt an overwhelming sense of relief and he stepped forward with he rest of the order. They made their way silently through the corridors, petrifying death eaters all along the way. George was reminded of his time in school with Fred and Raven sneaking past Filch and various teachers. He looked over at her while they walked and grinned at her. She smiled back at him. As they reached the Great Hall, they heard Harry’s voice.

“It seems that despite your exhaustive defensive strategies, you still have a bit of a security problem, headmaster,” Harry declared in the silent room. As he spoke, Kingsley opened the large doors and the order walked in, fanning out to block the door. “And I’m afraid it’s quite extensive.”

George snuck his hand down to hold Raven’s behind Bill’s tall figure, and Harry continued, “How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them how it happened that night! Tell them how you looked him in the eye—the man who trusted you—and killed him! Tell them.”

Without another word, Snape raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. The students who were formed in neat lines suddenly jumped out of the way and scattered out of the way. Before any of the arrived order could step forward, Minerva McGonagall placed herself between Snape and Harry. After a small moment, fire flew from her wand right at Snape’s dumbfounded face. He blocked it, and McGonagall advanced forward, sending flame after flame until Snape rebounded the spells off of him and back to the death eaters behind him, then flew out of the window.

“And stay out!” Raven shouted. McGonagall lit the candles back to their familiar glow and the room erupted in applause and cheer. George grinned from ear to missing ear and looked down at Raven. The two embraced tightly and George said to her, “I was so worried…”

“I was too. But we’re here now, and we’ve got a fight ahead of us,” Raven said in a slightly ominous tone.

The room suddenly went dark and an eerie voice was heard by all by the looks of it. “I know that many of you will want to fight, some of you may even think that to fight is wise, but this is folly. Give me Harry Potter. Do this and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded. You have one hour,” Voldemort’s voice rang out. George held onto Raven, who looked sick to her stomach.

After a moment, a Slytherin girl spoke up, “What are you waiting for? Someone grab him!”

“Looks like I’m gonna kill a child today,” Raven said and stood next to Harry with her wand raised. The rest of the Order followed her with George and Fred on either side of Raven.

“Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!” Filtch screamed as he came running into the Great Hall.

“They are supposed to be out of bed, you blithering idiot,” McGonagall said impatiently. “However, your appearance is most opportune. Would you be so kind as to escort Miss Parkinson and the rest of Slytherin house to the dungeons.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Filtch said, completely intimidated.

After that, the Order’s job became clear: protect Harry until all of the horcruxes were destroyed. Kingsley turned to the remaining order members after Molly and Tonks went with McGonagall to the front of the castle. “Fred, George, Raven, you take the east tower, Arthur, Bill, Fleur, you take the west, the rest of you split up in between. They’ll be attacking from all over we expect, so if you need backup, move to the middle.”

George started to run to the east side of the castle with Fred and Raven. He noticed that the barrier was already up and he could see several wires and explosives being set up on all of the bridges. When they reached a good spot to see over the courtyard, he managed to make out dark shadows on the hill across the lake, and assumed it must be Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Not even an hour had gone by  before they began their attack on Hogwarts.

“Bloody git, that Voldemort!” Fred said.

“Well, with a title like ‘Dark Lord,’ I think bloody git is putting it lightly,” George observed.

All of a sudden George couldn’t tell what was happening there was so much chaos.The castle was exploding and creatures of all kinds of dark lands flooded the grounds.  He could barely tell who he was fighting, and he could barely get a word in, all he could do was block the curses and hope that none of them landed on him and better yet rebounded back onto his attacker. During a brief pause, George managed to stun his attacker backwards and off of the tower. 

“Oops,” he said to himself, and the three of them ran to the courtyard through the chaos of students. George and Raven’s hands clasped together for George feared he’d lose her in the chaos of the fight. Explosions and curses erupted around them and George was feeling slightly overwhelmed. The three of them stood back to back and guarded each other that way while defending an entrance to the castle. Death Eaters, giants, trolls, vampires, and werewolves all were involved in attacking students, staff, and Aurors. 

“Are you actually kidding me right now?! What the fuck is this noseless freak playing at, anyway?!” Raven shouted and started throwing hex after hex at the new oncoming enemy: giant spiders. 

“This reminds me of something, George!” Fred said. “Hang on!” Fred leapt away from them and George assumed he didn’t know he stopped right in the path of a falling beam. He was far away from where the chaos was concentrated, so he had a moment to stop moving, but George prayed that he wouldn’t... but he did.

“FRED, NO!” Raven cried out, but before they could reach him, the beam had fallen and smacked him in the head, his face still stuck in a smile. 

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

Let me tell you a good story

Bloodbound Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed and MC (Annie)

Information:  this takes place after Bloodbound 3, here I’m recreating how Kamilah and MC would meet if she had never gone to Raines Corporation right away.

Summary: Thirty years after meeting Annie for the first time, Kamilah is now a wife and a mother. During a regular family dinner, she decides to tell her daughter and their new son-in-law the story of how she fell in love with Annie after an unusual meeting through the hallways of NYU.

Warnings: there’s a little bit about sexual harassment at work in the beginning of this part, but nothing too graphic. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Let me tell you a good story - Part 5

March 2nd, 2048

Eventually, the family had to move from the dining table to the couch, so they would feel more comfortable. Lysia and Drake sat together, his arm enlacing the girl’s shoulders, while Kamilah went to her usual armchair by the window and Anna ended up sitting on the floor, the head resting on her wife’s knee. Adrian was right next to them, preferring to stay up and lean on the small window ledge.

“Why did you get fired?” Drake still had tears on his eyes. His heart was made of butter, as they all already knew by them. It’s one of the reasons why Lysia instantly fell in love with him.

“Because of professor Walker.” Anna lowered her gaze, still holding tight on Kamilah’s leg. “He used to hit on me constantly, trying to offer me rides home, asking me out for a coffee or a movie, nothing actually scary, just annoying considering I had refused it so many times and yet he kept going on. Until one night, I was working late, and he went too far.”

Kamilah’s grip tightened on the armchair. She still remembered the first time Annie told her about what happened at NYU. It was days before their first kiss, during a morning they spent together organizing some files. The Egyptian could feel all her skin cells boiling of anger back then, and the reaction didn’t change over the years. At least, he got what he deserved. Revenge came one night and Kamilah was happy to be the one to deliver it.

“He tried to touch her.” Lysia whispered, her fingers brushing against Drake’s arms. His eyes, already tearful, widened even more.

“He didn’t succeed.” Anna’s voice became stronger, secure. “I hit him with a lamp and ran away. Walker didn’t like it though. He was powerful at NYU and found a way to get me fired.”

Adrian and Kamilah’s eyes darkened for a while. Annie didn’t need to look at then to know that. But the slightest movement of her fingers on the second one’s legs together with the sweet smile she offered to the first, it was all it took to make them calm back.

“I think it’s time we move on to our first kiss, don’t you…” the historian got interrupted by a yawn in the middle of the sentence. “… think babe? Why don’t you tell them?”

Kamilah softly caressed her wife’s hair, a little concerned by the hour. “Maybe there was enough telling for tonight. It’s getting late.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no, please. I’m not sleepy. I swear.”

“Yeah, Mom. Just a little more. Let’s get to the happy part!”

Lysia and Anna were both doing the same puppy face. It was easily done since one was the faithful copy of the other. When they did the insemination, none of them wanted to see how the donor looked like. And it seemed even less important later. The child got everything from Annie: hair, face, eyes, body, height. Except for the personality. Even though she learned how to use Anna’s tricks, such as the puppy face, usually Lysia was more like Kamilah. Her first word was even “mortal”.

“Fine.” The vampire queen gave in. It was impossible to resist both at the same time. “But we’ll go to bed when that clock strikes midnight. No matter in which part of the story we’re in.”

“Deal!” Annie hugged her leg, excited. “Go on, babe.”

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September 12th, 2018

             Two weeks can go fast when you are distracted with work. For Annie, those fourteen days seemed like a couple of hours. Ever since she stepped inside Raines Corporation that Saturday morning and signed the papers, time flew by. Once the historian said yes, she was finally able to know what the research was about. And honestly, she still didn’t understand why so much secrecy. For her, it was just books and artifacts leading to an old vampire tale, a bedtime story, nothing remotely dangerous… No matter how many times Lily went on with her vampire CEO’s conspiracy theory.

The plan was to start with Adrian’s basement, and move onto Kamilah’s only when the first one was finished. But both had documents that completed each other, so Annie needed to mix things a little bit, going from one to the other all the time. That’s why she had a special card to access both buildings whenever it was needed. Securities soon became familiar with her face, especially considering how sweet she was. It wasn’t common to see someone so cheerful and patient working among businesspeople. And although a few employees loved her, people on higher positions started to complain a lot about the liberty Kamilah had given to the new girl.

“She’s doing an important job, Carl. And it’s none of your concern.” The Egyptian answered coldly when one of her small associates started to suggest limiting Anna’s access.

“I just don’t understand why she needs to be here all the time…”

“Because that’s not for you to understand, but for me to manage it. Now leave. You have a conference in five minutes. Focus.”

Kamilah was getting annoyed by all of them. It was amazing how they felt threatened by Annie, just because she was the only one with permission to go through the CEO’s stuff and walk into her office at any time. Of course, it’s understandable how unusual it looked, especially because no one knew what exactly she was doing.

“Excuse me.” Speaking of the devil… “Can I get that Oxford catalogue back? I think I’ve got a new lead.”

Kamilah lifted her eyes from the laptop to see Anna’s head popping behind the door. “Be my guest. It’s on the shelf.”

She squeezed herself in and closed the door as lightly as possible. Two weeks and Annie already knew how much the Egyptian hated loud noises, so chitchats were never an option. She didn’t say a word, just quietly going went to the shelf, unaware of Kamilah’s intense gaze on her back. The historian was a short woman, unable to reach the book by herself, even though she was trying to stay on her tiptoes. The sight of her struggling to only brush the point of the fingers at the cover amused the CEO.

“You could ask for help.” Kamilah slowly closed the laptop, but didn’t stand up, waiting for the request.

Annie clenched her jaw. She could be too competitive sometimes. “I got it. Focus on your work. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

One more time, the historian tried to stand on her tiptoes, stretching her arm as much as possible. The book was there, brushing against her fingers, but barely moving. Suddenly, she felt a low breeze on her back, followed by the warm of Kamilah’s body smoothly touching hers while the woman simply lifted an arm and took the book out of the shelf. The Egyptian’s voice on Annie’s ear made her shiver and immediately try to suffocate all the dirty dreams she had been having for days. “You’re always a distraction.”

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“You really had to mention the dirty dreams part? Seriously?” Anna interrupted the story with blushed cheeks.

“Well, I must stick fair to the facts. You were having sex dreams about me.”

By the window, Adrian was laughing. He vividly remembered the way Annie would watch Kamilah walking through the hallways, hypnotized. “I don’t blame you, Ann. She was wearing her best clothes just to impress.”

“I might be wrong, sir, but something tells me Mrs. Annie wasn’t picturing Mrs. Kamilah with any clothes on, no matter how good they looked.” Drake’s silly joke made Lysia hide her face but earned a strong and honest laugh out of Kamilah.

“Oh boy, just please go on with it…” Annie pinched her wife’s leg. “And save the dirty details. Our daughter doesn’t need to know them.”

“Yes!” Lysia’s muffled voice agreed.

“Fine, fine. Let me see what I can do.”

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“You’re always a distraction.”

Kamilah was still holding the book for her. Slowly, the historian took it, not brave enough to lift her gaze.

“Something’s wrong?” the CEO’s tone seemed teasing. “You’re tense.”

Anna shook her head so lightly, it was barely a movement. “Nothing.”

If her heart was already pounding inside the chest, it raced dangerously when Kamilah held the historian’s chin with two fingers, forcing their eyes to lock on each other. There was something she realized about Annie after a while. It didn’t matter what sort of emotions were going on there, her black shining eyes would always have this flame on them, burning constantly like hot coal. They matched Anna’s black wavy hair like the perfect set to seduce Kamilah. That fire was attracting the Egyptian day by day, certainly not causing any kind of dirty thoughts that would embarrass their daughter to hear them in the future.

Kamilah just couldn’t hold back any longer. She closed the space between then, pressing their lips in a hungry and impatient kiss. Anna didn’t even tremble. As soon as the Brazilian felt it happening, her lips parted and her body melted on Kamilah’s arms, barely standing on it’s own. At some point, the book fell from her hands and hit the floor, but they didn’t care. The Egyptian pressed her against the shelf, hands traveling along Anna’s sides to hold her waist in a tight grip, earning a moan in the middle of the kiss. In a single movement, the historian climbed Kamilah and involved her with the legs, being able to match their heights. They didn’t know how much time they spent on that kiss, but after days of exchanged looks and small not-so-innocent touches, it was hard to stop.

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FOR GOD’S SAKE MOM, NO DIRTY DETAILS! THAT’S ENOUGH! – cried Lysia with her face still buried on Drake’s arm.

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So… After a properly modest and normal kiss, Anna backed her face away, but didn’t dare to move out of Kamilah’s arms. She had a huge and provocative smile wide opened. “If Carl already hates me for coming here all the time, imagine what Ms. Sayeed will think if she finds out I’m making out with you.”

Kamilah laughed. She had almost forgotten how Annie didn’t find out the truth yet, especially after the vampire warned everybody around her to hold their tongues. It was too damn good to see how long this would go on. 

“Oh, darling. I don’t believe Ms. Sayeed will have a problem with it.”

[ally-127]

storm in the studio

genre: angst; fluff (if u squint)

pairing: reader x jaebum

summary: 5 days he’s been gone and you’ve had quite enough.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: strong language; suggestive content (just jaebum being horny);

one shot continues under the cut

you weren’t the biggest fan of the piercing cold of seoul.

but you were most definitely in need of seeing him.

so you just had to endure the cold.

your leather ankle boots weren’t made to suit this weather but regardless, you trudged through the hardened snow of the outdoor parking lot. it was too late at night you just weren’t bothered to park in the underground car park.

jaebum was in the studio burning midnight fuel—or rather, weekly fuel—working on songs to incorporate into an upcoming album, whether solo or not, you didn’t know. you didn’t want to be at your shared apartment all alone like the you’ve been for the past five days so you might as well just be in the studio with him.

it was pitch black out, as it’d been since 5pm this afternoon. you relied on the glow of the streetlights to light up your path to the entrance of the concrete building. smoke drifted out your lips from your breathing, your heart beating steadily in your chest.

you pushed past the heavy glass door that led into the large concrete buliding. late nights were a rare occasion for anyone to be present in such a vacant building, a place unlikely for a music studio to be built in. that was the exact intention of the producers, in order to avoid stalkerish fanatics.

pressing the button to the floor on the lift was hard when there were plastic bags of takeout hanging from your hands. you struggled for a little before managing to get the correct number. you waited, your boots tapping against the ground of the elevator impatiently.

you were frustrated that he hasn’t been home for days.

that he didn’t bother to tell you about it.

that he probably didn’t even notice his own health was slowly deteriorating.

you stopped in front of the familiar door of his studio, contemplating what you wanted to say to him. five days he hadn’t said a word to you. not a single text nor call from him you weren’t sure how to react when you saw his face again.

clingy was definitely not what you were. it was simply worry and concern that came naturally from a person whose significant other hasn’t been home for five days. and someone who had no clue where on earth he was since then.

until today.

your hands found the courage to grip the door handle and push it down. this location was so discrete no password was needed in order to enter. you took a single, deep breath before stepping in.

he had his back faced towards you. he was bent over the desk of control panels and his computer intently. his head was propped on his hand while he stared at the curved screen in front of him. the screen displayed a series of bars that represented the different sounds and harmonies he assembled to create a song. his dark, overgrown hair was unruly from stress. his ankle was crossed over his knee, a posture that he always in when he was indecisive.

jaebum worked far too hard but he’d been like this since forever, you were used to it. you just needed to give him a balance. a balance between the time for work and for himself.

as much as you denied it, you wanted him to make time for you too.

the chair he sat on creaked when he turned around to face where the sound of the closing the door originated, behind you. his feline eyes widened in surprise as they focused on you. he braced his hands on the arm rests of his chair, mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know what he had to say.

“im jaebeom,” you muttered. you barely called him by his full name but at this point you felt like you needed to. “where the fuck have you been?”

“i was here,” he said matter-of-factly. you caught him holding back a flinch upon hearing his full name and the vulgarity of words that left your lips.

he hid it well though.

like the weather outside he was distant, cold.

a familiar feeling, if you were honest.

“and you didn’t bother to tell me?” you asked quietly.

you sat yourself down on the leather couch right opposite mostly to prevent from falling to your knees. you closed your eyes, took in a few more breaths, and continued. “i didn’t even receive a single text from you.”

“i’m sorry,” he said. “but i’ve been really damn busy.”

“yeah, no shit.” you spat, unable to contain your frustration no longer. you set the takeout roughly on the table with a light bang.

“i really have,” he stood from his seat, his height casting a silhouette on you.

you glanced up at him, at his tousled, black strands of hair. he wore no jewellery except the ring on his index finger that you gifted him, as he did whenever he’s working privately. his tired eyes bore no emotion, lips pressed in a firm line to make you aware that his patience was running thin. the dark under-eye circles were evidence of how much sleep he’d lost over the past month.

“all i needed,“ you closed your eyes to get a grip of yourself. “was one single call. but no, nothing from you.”

“i told you—“

“it’s been really damn difficult to be at home,” you gritted your teeth as you let everything that you’ve been feeling pour out from your system. “when i have to wait till three am for you to come home, only to find out you weren’t even going to.”

those delusional nights were the nights that you felt more insecure than you’ve ever been. maybe your lover had found someone else. maybe you just weren’t good enough.

but it wasn’t like that.

he kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands in his own.

you managed to crack his wall that was void of any emotions, a shield you’d learnt how to overcome in the past years by unleashing your own emotions.

whatever you felt, he felt.

long fingers intertwined with yours, dark eyes staring into your own. he shifted himself closer to you until his long torso was between your thighs. you watched as his pupil traced the single tear of exasperation that rolled down your face.

“i’m sorry,” he breathed, letting go of your hands to reach up and wipe that tear away with his thumb. “fuck, i really am sorry.”

“you know,” you told him, your voice unwavering. “you were beginning to make me lose hope in us.”

“no, do not say that,” jaebum shook his head, warm hands cupping your face.

how pathetic you must’ve looked under him. you hated the feeling of weakness and so did he. that was what drew you both apart. especially when you were both in denial of your emotional vulnerability, of your defeat. it definitely took you time to realise that maybe it was okay for you to just feel. exactly like right now.

suddenly, the feeling of longing for him nagged at your chest. disappointment couldn’t help but creep it’s way up into the crevices of your mind. you found yourself questioning the last time you saw him smile and the last time you heard him laugh, always so vocal it reverberated off any surface. you found yourself missing the smile he reserved for only you, the toothy grin he gave only in the privacy of your bedroom.

he released his grip on your face, uncertain on where he wanted to touch you, somewhere that would calm you down. hands found their way back to yours. he held your hand up to his lips and pressed tender kisses on your knuckles.

“jae,” you murmured, shaking your hands free from his grip. his lips parted in surprise as you nudged him back lightly to give yourself space to stand. “this isn’t going to fix anything,” you stalked toward the door. now, your aggravation turned into anger.

truth to be told, this was one of jaebum’s biggest fears. that you’d give up on him and walk away. that you’d leave him and strand him on his own.

but you had no idea about it.

“don’t leave,” he caught your wrist in his hands before you could storm out. “please.”

you were silent.

“i’ll come home with you right after this,” he pleaded, desperation now lacing his voice. “i promise.”

“no, jaebum,” you shook your head. you’ve had quite enough of this. you were here only to check if he was very well alive and to give him the fuel that he needed and missed out on in order to be alive in the first place.

“please,” he shifted his grip to your hand.

he sat down on the leather couch, hand still around yours. he drew you to him until you were on his lap,

wrapping his arms around your waist. you felt his hard chest press against the space between your shoulder blades and you felt the defined crevices of his abs on your lower back.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he whispered in your ear.

secretly you relished the warmth of his body heat, of his strong arms around you. you leaned your head back on his shoulder.

“stay,” he held you tight to him as if you might disappear if he let go.

“okay,” you breathed after a moment of thought.

jaebum exhaled loudly in obvious relief. “fuck, i missed you.”

“you don’t get to pull the ‘i miss you’ thing on me,” you said, still mad at him. your anger tamed down when you saw the pout formed on his lips when he rested his chin on your shoulder. a smile ghosted at the corners of your lips.

“forgive me,” his lips found their way to skin behind your ear, a delicate place he loved kissing.

you sighed, “just this once.”

to be fair, in all the years that you’ve been with him, this was the first time he did this. so you let him off the hook.

you two sat in comfortable silence before he shifted, sitting up and bringing you along with him.

“i made twelve songs,” he told you.

you were so used to telling each other everything it became an instinctive thing, to tell you about his day and what he did. you chuckled at the sudden piece of information.

“let’s hear them,” you said.

“they’re for my mixtape,” he tapped you on the thigh, signalling you to move aside so he could stand.

you watched as he ambled his way over to the control panel in front of the recording room. he hit play with the space button on the keyboard. synth melodies, bass and carefully assembled beats began playing. it never failed to impress you the fact that he did all of this on his own. then came his harmonious voice, a voice so familiar warmth blossomed in your chest upon hearing it.

he propped himself against the edge of the desk to watch your reaction to his craft.

you paid attention to his lyrics. the words and phrases in this song suddenly seemed so personal once you were able to process what they all meant, all the hidden meanings and connotations became crystal clear. these were lyrics he wrote on his experiences with you—he’d based the entire context of this song on it.

the sensual ambience of his song forced you to stand and your hips to sway subtly to the rhythm of his music. you pretended to be nonchalant about the intense stare he had on you, your eyes focused on the screen rather than his gorgeous face.

even then, you could see the corner of his lip lifting into a smirk as he crossed his arms. his t-shirt exposed the stretch of muscle in his forearms that flexed when his hungry eyes slithered down your face to your hips.

he was checking you out.

but of course, you knew that.

it went on for a few minutes. the more songs he played for you, the deeper his eyes burned into your skin.

those eyes were ones you were the most familiar with. those eyes were what you looked for in crowded places, in times you were in doubt. you’ve watched the brown irises in them ignite when he was excited, when he was angry. you’ve watched them soften every time they focused on you. you’ve watched his pupils dilate every time he was turned on or about to drive you insane with desire.

the atmosphere was suddenly heated, the temperature rising by a few degrees. you took off your coat and laid it by the couch as the wooden floor of his studio became your dance floor.

“come here,” you wriggled your finger to gesture him to do so.

like the magnetic force of attraction he seemed to have with you, he did as you said. you fisted your fingers in his shirt and pulled him closer to you. he leaned his forehead down on yours as you two swayed to the music. you danced, his hands on your hips, your arms around his neck.

“shit,” he breathed.

“what, baby?” you whispered, equally as quiet while the music thrummed in the background.

“i didn’t know how much i needed this,” he tipped your head back with a curved index finger under your chin. you felt his half-lidded gaze cut through you like a knife.

“needed what?” you asked.

“needed you,” he murmured.

“jaebeom,” you sighed. your head dropped onto his shoulder, immediately cutting off the gaze you shared with him and breaking his hold on your chin.

there was nothing said after that. he just held you to him, the deep rumble of his breathing gradually becoming louder than the music. your heartbeats were soon in sync with one another like the languid rhythm to which your bodies were swaying. you recognised in the familiar cologne, his favourite cologne while he recognised yours.

“i wrote all these songs,” he said amidst the silence, causing you to look up at him. “about you.”

“me, huh?”

jaebeom leaned down to run his nose on the crook of your neck, breathing you in. it was easy to tell how much he missed you and your scent that enveloped around him like a safety blanket. you were his reassurance that kept him on his feet, a reminder that sometimes he can take it easy. especially with him being a leader and having all the responsibility chucked on his shoulders.

“yeah, you,” he kissed you once on the jaw before retracting himself from you.

you felt a chill slither through you as a response to the loss of the warmth of his body heat. you ran your hands on your arms, trying to replace it.

the music was brought into a halt. the silence became deafening. the hum of electricity fused with yours and jaebeom’s synchronised breaths that left your lips were the only sounds that rang through the four concrete walls of the studio.

“why’d you pause it?” you asked him, a different kind of disappointment poking at your chest. you were definitely enjoying yourself listening to lover’s carefully curated album.

“because,” the screen in front of him turned to black as he shut it down. “i want to take you home, now.”

he made his way toward the switches, flipping each and every one of it off. he left the overhead lights on though, so he could see the shape of your eyes as they narrowed in suspicion and your hips as they angled to one side. he enjoyed watching your attitude shine through the dark, a striking attribute he was drawn to.

“jae...” you trailed off.

“hm?” he was a step away from you and his fingers were itching to reach out to touch you. he gave in, gently taking your hands in both of his. he stood in front of you, face an inch away but a quarter of a head higher.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“i don’t know,” jaebeom admitted as he shook his head. he kissed the crown of your head, his barely-there stubble scrapping the bridge of your nose slightly. “i just know i want you, right now.”

you were speechless because you knew exactly what he meant.

eyes tracing across his face, you saw his eyes glisten with lust, with excitement. you saw his lips twitch into a brief smirk when he leaned down to capture your lips in his own.

adrenaline rushed through you, his touch spreading a wildfire throughout your body. a sound similar to a whimper broke free from your lips and he swallowed it whole, using this opportunity to glide his tongue across your lower lip.

he was good at this, jaebeom.

good at making your forget everything with the brush of his lips and hands around your waist.

except his absence in the past five few days that seemed to be the reason you were here in the first place.

you tore your lips way from his to catch your breath, looking up into jaebeom’s eyes.

“we can’t,” you said before the situation could escalate. “not here.”

“what?” he asked, disappointed. “why the hell not?”

he’d been dreaming of bending you over and taking you right on his desk in this exact studio under the dim lighting of the ceiling fixtures.

“we’ve got things to do—you’ve got things to do,” you traced your finger across his face, your heart placed at ease at how familiar you were with his features.

“like what?” he looked at the desk to which he created all his music. “i’m almost finished with most of the songs anyway.”

“i’m talking about you, jae.” you pointed at the take out laid on the table behind him. “when was the last time you ate?”

“yesterday night?” jaebeom pondered.

it was ridiculous that he needed to think in order to remember when his last meal was.

you nudged him back so he could sit on the couch. “here—” you the slid container that was filled with food you had specifically ordered for him forward, knowing it was his favourite and that he needed it. “—eat this.”

“you always take care of me,” he shook his head as if he was ashamed of himself. “where will i be without you, huh?”

for an unclear reason, you avoided meeting his eyes as you let the question drift rhetorically in midair.

he brushed off your ignorance and indulged himself in his food, eating in silence.

you sat down next to him, leaning back on the couch. his back was curved over his knees while he ate, hiding you from his line of vision.

“baby,” he murmured.

there was something so affectionate and loving about the way he said it that you couldn’t help but rest your elbows on your thighs just so you could angle your head to the side in order to look him in the eye.

“yeah?”

“i’m sorry,” he said.

“it’s okay—“

“it’s okay—“

“no,” he shook his head. “it was completely unacceptable for me to keep you in the dark for so long,” it seemed the effect of his absence on you still burdened him, that the short silence while he was eating allowed him to really think through everything. “and i know sex wouldn’t resolve it.”

“jaebeom,” you reached forward to cup his cheek. “i forgive you. besides, i’m here already, am i not?”

he chuckled and began to pack up the takeout all in the bag, tossing it into the bin next to the couch. he turned back to you, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip while his eyes lingered on your face.

“you lost so much of sleep,” he pointed out as he identified the dark circles under your eyes. “because of me.”

“i’m used to it,” you shrugged.

then there was silence again, the fact that he indirectly admitted he was horny looming over you both.

you climbed over him out of impulse, immediately straddling his lap. surprise splashed across his features, his jaw dropping slightly into a gape. you smiled a little at his reaction, your arms snaking around his neck.

“quit stressing,” you said. you felt his hands rest on your hips to keep you from falling.

“it’s really difficult not to—i’m stressed that my music isn’t good enough,” he sighed. “and i’m stressed that i might hurt you, ” he lifted a hand to push a stray hair away from your eyes. “it seems i already have.”

“no,” you placed a hand on his shoulders, massaging it to relieve it from tension.

“ye—ah—“ he squeezed his eyes shut in relaxation and threw his head back onto the edge couch. “—yes.”

“jae,” you gave him a solemn look although he clearly wasn’t paying attention.

“if i could’ve just picked up the ph—“

“jae,” you repeated more firmly this time.

“what?” he said.

“shut up,” you said.

“okay,” he chuckled, fingers tightening around your hips.

you worked your hands on his shoulders for a little longer, your eyebrows drawn together as you loosened all the knots formed by stress in the planes of his muscles. a sigh escaped your lips the moment your hands released his shoulders.

a few seconds later, you found, his eyes had almost been drawn into a close. he was exhausted and obviously, you knew that. his hands were still on your waist as his head dropped forward onto your shoulder.

“hey,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. “come on, it’s getting late. i’ll drive the both of us home, you can get your car tomorrow.”

he groaned your name, followed by a string of words you couldn’t really decipher.

a grunt, as unattractive as it was, left your lips as you lifted jaebum up from the couch with his arm slung around your shoulders.

“i can walk myself, you know.”

“oh, so you can speak now,” you teased him.

“i’m not drunk,” he nuzzled his head in your neck.

“you’re tired,” you glanced sideways at him.

“that, i am.”

“let’s go,” you grabbed your coat in your other hand, while the other supported half of his weight.

“wait,” he dragged you along with him to the switches by the wall. “i need to turn this off or the electricity bill will injure my bank account.”

you chuckled, shaking your head. “you’re crazy.”

“crazy for you,” he murmured, making you roll your eyes.

everything was pitch black and neither of you could see as you two made your way to the front door where light leaked through the edges.

“ow!” he screamed next to you as his movements jerked the both of you to the side. “my shin—fuck.”

you held back a laugh, cupping your hand over your mouth.

“fuck, it hurts,” he hissed, crouching down and bringing you down with him to check his on his so-called injury. “i’m literally going to destroy this damn table.”

“jae, we have to go,” you shook your head, a smile on your face despite the fact that neither of you could see.

“yes mom.”

[welcome-to-the-whumpfest]

His First Scream

Prologue 

__________________________________________

His scream is captivating.

It is like a drug to Sir. It is so pure and pained, he can’t wait till the young man screams again. After the black-haired prisoner’s little “incident” in the basement, Sir is quick, not to mention eager, to bring his new plaything to the attic. His territory. Now, he is straddling the young man, pinning him to the floor. Currently, he is using an effortless spell, but an effective one. Deciding not to ease the young man into his new life, Sir pushes the spell into the young man whose body is quivering in agony. “If you tell me your name, I’ll let the pain stop.” He coos in a sing song voice.

His prisoner moans in response and tries to push his captor away. His arms aren’t strong enough. Sir realizes his good luck. If Jordan was the feisty one, he wouldn’t be able to have as much fun immediately. He would have had to wait a great deal of time before his muscle’s grew smaller due to being chained up all the time. But this fiery young man didn’t quite possess the strength to be a threat. Sir is a giant of a man, and he certainly uses it to his advantage. “Come on, little firefly, just give me your name, and I’ll ease your hurt.”

The young man responds by spitting on his face.

Instantly, Sir slams his elbow into the prisoner’s cheek, all the while laughing insanely. Chills travel up the young man’s spine at the sound, and his vision briefly turns white before readjusting to the darkened attic. Before the young man can react, Sir shoves his forearm onto his neck. “You’ll learn not to do that. I was hoping to refrain from using my tools, but right now, I think you’re in dire need of some conditioning.”

Struggling against the tormenting pressure on his neck, the young man frantically waves his limbs around in an attempt to throw off his captor. All to no avail. The young man could feel a bruise burying itself deep into the skin around his neck as the edges of his vision became foggy due to lack of air. Still, he doesn’t plead. Raising a hand over his prisoner, Sir commands, “Stay.” The instant the word left his lips, the young man found that he could no longer push against his captor. He trembled with anxiety but could not move of his own accord. It’s dreadful.

Pleased with his work, Sir turns to the corners of the attic, past the young man’s vision. Listening with excruciating anticipation, the raven-haired prisoner listens to the clinking of metal. “Ah, what to pick, what to pick?” Sir mumbles to himself.

Sir is a professional. He knows his strategy well. The fact that his new plaything had no clue what was coming, allowed the prisoner to conjure up graphic and horrific scenarios in his mind of what may happen. Little did he know, the worst thing his imagination would form was pathetic compared to what Sir had planned. Moving towards the young man again, Sir lowers to his knees so they can see each other. “Now, I wonder which of these will have the desired effect.” The young man’s shaky inhale did not go unnoticed by Sir, who is smiling at the first crack in his prisoner. Revealing a hammer, Sir’s nightmare-inducing grin widens as he raises it to the young man’s kneecap. “It’s fascinating isn’t it? It would be so easy for me to bash your knee cap. Can you imagine the crunching sound that would make? You’ll scream again, but louder this time. You’ll be a quivering mess, begging me not to do the other, but you’re a fiery thing aren’t you? You’ll scream, but not give me your name, so I’ll have to punish you and do the other. You’re eyes will become glossy as you briefly become disorientated, but it won’t stop there, no darling, I have so much more planned for you!”

The young man whimpered. Another slip up. Just enough to arouse Sir to continue, as he gently, almost caringly, brushes his prisoner’s midnight hair.

“After we’re done with your knees, I’ll take your dainty little hand here,” putting the hammer down, Sir grasps his prisoner’s small hand in his large masculine one’s. “And I’ll make sure to meticulously snap each and every bone in your lovely hand. How does that sound, darling?”

The young man manages to push his fear away long enough to notice what his captor’s game is. After every threat and scenario, Sir watches his face carefully, making sure to scan every small flinch or hesitation. He is searching his face for a sign. He wants to know which one scares him the most.  

He is determined to be unreadable, but Sir has done this before. He is experienced. He is a sick professional who notices the slightest tense of a muscle, a wavering breath, a flash of horror in his prisoner’s eyes. Sir can read him like a book.

“What if I pay more attention to that divine neck of yours? Oh! You seem to be holding your breath.” The young man cursed himself, internally. Softly, Sir brushed his fingers against his prisoner’s neck, which causes the young man’s spine to tingle. He has to stay calm, but with each passing minute his hands trembled at his sides.

“I have a little something for that, little firefly.” Sir smiles greedily as he reveals a collar. “Let me help you, darling.” Tenderly, he raises the young man’s head off the floor to secure the tight, collar around his fragile neck. “This is a special collar. You see, I can control how loose or tight it is. If you misbehave, it will tighten. Overtime, it might cause a bit of discomfort, but I just know you’ll behave. Even so, it’s a good conditioning collar. Now, where to next?” The devilish look in his eyes studies the young man who bravely stares back at him, stiffly as if to avoid shaking.

Sir reveals another tool: pliers. “Open up!” He chuckles at the surprised and petrified look plastered on the young man’s face. His prisoner couldn’t believe this was happening. “Do I need to tighten your collar?” Sir raises an eyebrow in warning.

Suddenly feeling pressure on his neck, the prisoner realizes there is no way out, but still refrains from submitting. He has come this far. He has to prove his stubbornness.

Impatience and annoyance clouds Sir’s features, as he grips the young man’s jaw and forcefully opens his prisoner’s mouth with one hand, sliding his index finger and thumb into his skin, preventing his upper and lower jaw from clenching. His victim begins to squirm.

“You seem a bit nervous, firefly. Remember, all you have to do is tell me your name and I’ll stop.” The young man isn’t broken yet, and he isn’t one to give up a fight. “Very well.” Sir sighs and shoves the pliers to one of his prisoner’s molars. Whimpering, the prisoner pushes against the magic forcing him still but finds it impossible to budge, other than shaking violently. Cold, heartless metal finds its way to one of his sensitive teeth. Gripping it savagely, the plier tightens then pulls ruthlessly. Feeling the root of the tooth yank out of his gums, the prisoner shrieks in pain.

“Look at it!” Sir commands, digging his nails into the skin between his victim’s upper and lower jaw, which stings the young man’s tender flesh.

The midnight haired one does not obey until he feels his cruel collar tighten, closing his airways and causing an uncomfortable, hot ache to rise in the sides of his throat. When he does open his eyes, regret immediately overcomes every fiber of his body as he is forced to observe the tooth dripping with his blood and a piece of his gums that is still attached to it, hanging limply in a disgusting manner. Everything reeks of blood.

“You ready for another one?” Before he has time to think, Sir shoves the pliers back into his mouth, clasps another tooth (this time on the top) and thrusts it out of his mouth, throwing it across the floor.

Somehow, the second one is worse than the first.

Sir only laughs as his little firefly screams again, pain pressuring his brow. “Oh, you are a heavenly little thing, aren’t you?” He cues pushing the beads of sweat off of his prisoner’s forehead.

There’s too much blood gushing in his mouth! The prisoner desperately tries to roll over to spit some out, but finding that he is still immobile, he begins to helplessly choke on his own blood. A gurgling sound escapes his tightened throat.

“What’s the matter, darling?” Sir sticks a thumb into the pool of blood rising in the young man’s mouth. He is gagging on his own blood. “I’ll make you a little deal. If you let any of that blood drip out onto your pretty face, I’ll tighten your collar.” Sir leans in close to his captive’s ear and whispers, “Then you’ll have something to gag on.”

The young man squeezes his eyes shut, praying that this will all be over soon. “Next, I think we’ll play with your ankles. What do you think, little firefly?”

Time goes on and screams pierce the musty air of the attic. The young man can hardly take it anymore. The bone racking, agonizing pain ripping through his crumbled ankles seems to be the least of his problems. Sir decided that he wanted to destroy something that his firefly couldn’t hold or grasp close to himself after all was said and done and he would be left lying on the floor in excruciating pain. No, he wants his firefly to burn internally, but be unable to move, unable to comfort himself. He wants him to feel exposed and mortified. He wants the fear of death evident in the young man’s eyes. Placing his palms on his victim’s hips, a sinister grin slithers across Sir’s face. In one swift movement, he throws his weight onto the bone and a creak then snap sounds before a scream, no, a wail, follows.

The pain overwhelms the poor captive. This pain is far worse than anything he has experienced before, and he is unsure how to deal with it. Thrashing only causes it to worsen (which he didn’t know was even possible) so he stays a still as he can.

“Your name, darling.” Sir commands as he places his palms on the other, uninjured hip. The young man shivers and trembles aware of his captor’s intentions. “I’m getting a little impatient here.” He tilts his head slightly annoyed. Little did his victim know, how adoring he looked in Sir’s eyes. The way the beads of sweat rested on his upper lip and forehead and the look of pure terror rising in his eyes when the pain became too much, he was gorgeous. “Three.” It takes his firefly a moment to realize that his captor is counting down. “Two.” The only thing stronger than the pain is the fear of being exposed to more.

“Angel!” The victim winces breathlessly. “Angel my- my na-me.”

A wider smile reaches Sir’s lips. His captive swears he looks like the devil himself. Removing his hands from his hip, to his firefly’s relief, Sir strokes the young man’s tear stained cheek. “There, there, darling, that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

Barely able to choke back a sob, Angel glares through his teary eyes. There is so much hate and fire inside his icy blue eyes. They are so light that they almost seem grey like the skies after a thunderstorm.

“Don’t give me that look. It will only be a matter of time before you fall in love with me.”

“Y-you’re- si-ck-” The prisoner manages to stutter. His body is so tense, everything aches and the waves of pain coming from his shattered hip increases.

“No, little firefly. I am honest. You might as well except this, because it is only a matter of time before – never mind. I don’t feel like spoiling the fun. For now, you can just wait with anticipation. How exciting our adventures will be! I, for one, can’t wait.”  Leaning down to place a kiss on his immobile prisoner’s forehead, Sir simply ignores the terror-stricken face of his captive. “Now. As for the rest of the night, I’m going to make sure you stay wide awake. That way you won’t be wasting your time sleeping, and instead will be pondering exactly what I will do to you when I come back up.” Reaching a hand to Angel’s forehead and allowing a spell to unleash from beneath his palm, Sir smiles. Pleased with himself.

With that, the tall man leaves the attic and descends out of the room, abandoning Angel to be tortured by his own thoughts – nightmarish and strained due to sleep deprivation and the aching pain still coursing through his veins in pure agony.

[haikyupid]

Order from Soft Tears,

Hello! May I please order a Dalgona Matchup Latte? 😌 I’m an Aries and my Myers-Brigg is ISTP. At first I might seem shy but once I open up it’s impossible to shut me up but that doesn’t mean that I will hesitate to kill someone if they deserve it. I generally speak my mind whether people like it or not so I’m quite blunt. I hate routines, they bore me. I’m impatient and short tempered and I hate being tied down or told what to do. You never have to guess where you stand with me, as I will always let you know. In love, I’m more of a one-on-one person. I can never get too much attention or solo time with my s/o. I’ll try to put my partner first in all matters, and I expect the same in return. That doesn’t mean I’m a pushover though since, like I said, I’m not into being suffocated or controlled. I just love attention (giving and receiving), and I want to share my most intimate side with someone I can trust. As you can tell, I’m a huge hopeless romantic and I dig cliches as long as they don’t make me cringe. I’m a night owl I tend to go to sleep late. I love taking on leadership roles and being challenged since I’m very competitive. I’m actually quite taller than average females, my height being 5’8”. I like reading, listening to music, working out if I don’t feel lazy or if i feel like it, going out with my friends. I’ve played volleyball and basketball for my school teams but I quit because how toxic the teams have become. Now I only play them for fun. Thank you so much for this and I hope I managed to follow all of the instructions. 💞

Thank you for ordering and following the instructions, you’ve made Kyupid very happy! Dalgona Matchup Latte coming right up— oh, and I think I already mentioned something about the side effects; so I matcha up with ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

➞ this relationship is just filled with love; that sounds like an obvious thing to have in a relationship, but this is just different — you both take ‘i can’t picture the future without you’ to a whole new level

➞ he falls for you first, and he fell hard; at that point, he just knew that there was no turning back, you were the one periodt

➞ he probably realized it when you suddenly stopped blabbering after you realized that he was just staring at you intently and got a bit flustered; all he could think about was ‘no, please don’t stop talking to me. i want to see your eyes sparkle more, i want to hear your voice more, i want you to be happy around me more. i want to be one of the reasons behind that heavenly laugh of yours. i want to see that beautiful smile of yours… for the rest of my life’

➞ of course he wanted you to be his, but even if you didn’t see him like that, he still wanted you to be a part of his life — that’s how important you became to him

➞ he will give you all of his love and attention; he’ll definitely voice out how much he loves that you’re quite clingy, he’ll even ask for you to not hold back with it

➞ expect to be treated like a princess; you’re literally gonna be spoiled with everything, whether it’s gifts or affection, you name it, it’s all yours

➞ he may need you to initiate the majority of your guys’ convos since he’s afraid that he might say something wrong (he’s canonically blunt, taunting, and have no filter) so bear with him, he’s still trying to be more sociable since he isn’t really experienced in that department (skdkskdk it hurt writing that)

➞ sometimes it’s obvious who loves the other one more between most couples; but with y’all? nuh-uh, y’all are just pure on simps for each other and it’s mad obvious to everyone; literally expect everyone at shiratorizawa to have made a ship name for y’all already, like it’s just that obvious

➞ semi will probably say, “look, it’s y/n” just to distract tendou, and mans will always look even if he knew that you were on vacay with your parents in a another country, like he’s just so whipped—

➞ i think because he’s very clueless when it comes to love, he resorts to watching romance movies to maybe learn a thing or two that may impress you

➞ but bby is so pure and innocent, he mostly copies the ones from disney; his fav would be the lady and the tramp spaghetti scene

“…what’re you doing?”

“i’m fhying thfwo be romanthwic.”

“what?”

“i said i was trying to be romantic 🥺 that was the last noodle… now we can’t be like dogs in love.”

“hey, how about we copy ellie and carl’s love story, hm?”

“…sato, she ends up dead.”

“well clearly not that part; but i want to live happily ever after with you. just us, and mini-me’s running around our front yard, while we just hold hands on the porch and drink our tea— what i’m trying to say is, i’ll marry you in the future, so wait until then, alright?”

➞ dates will include midnight escapades to the park to play some sports or just to sit on the slides and stargaze; spontaneous trips to tokyo literally right after school; pet store dates where you’ll see how caring and sweet he actually is; he’ll probably pull out a wagon and tell you to get on it, and you’ll probably just make everyone in your neighborhood smile and remember that love exists when they hear just a bunch of laughs and giggles, and they look outside to see you two and see how tendou looks at you with pure love in his eyes while he’s pulling you around the block like i— uwu, just uwu

➞ expect tendou to turn mundane things into competitions like, “baby, i bet i can slurp this juice box faster than you” and he’ll just completely fawn over how you suddenly have this glint in your eyes and you just look so beautiful to him

➞ you’re always showered with affection, but doesn’t mean that he doesn’t give you your space when needed

➞ he is not at all controlling; like literally unless you’re doing something that may cause you harm, then mans won’t interfere until you tell him to

wanna wear a tight dress? “of course, babe, you look breathtaking as always.”

wanna change your appearance? “ooh, a surprise! i’m all for this, sweetie. should i change mine too, so we could be matchy-matchy if you want?”

wanna hang out with a couple of friends, “you don’t need to ask me for permission, but i really appreciate it. go have fun, baby, and tell me all about it when you get home.”

➞ he may get jealous when you talk about your guy friends though, but he won’t stop you from hanging out with them (you’re not his property, and he’s very aware of that) he’ll most likely just pout and be like “but i’m your baby, right?”

➞ he gets insecure because of his past, he’ll end up thinking that you’re too perfect for him and that he doesn’t deserve you; so please give him all the affection and love that he’s starved of (or i’ll pull and steal ur mans, bby boo)

➞ just know that he’s very grateful to have you in his life; even if you do end up rejecting him, he’ll accept everything just for you to always be a part of his life even if you end up just being a friends

➞ btw, your height? damn, he literally thinks it’s so sexy, and the fact that he can literally just kiss you without having to worry about neck or back pains? he will literally end up peppering you with kisses, like legit you might end up suffocating (good luck with that, bby 😌✌️)

➞ i think you might be wearing the pants in the relationship…

➞ but anyways, you and tendou just radiate love energy to everyone; legit everyone sees the two of you with heart emojis all around and i mean, who wouldn’t want to be around a love so strong like you two’s?

I really hope that you enjoyed your Dalgona Matchup Latte! Here’s a visual of your movie-esque relationship: he’ll pull the cliché ‘let’s compare hands’ move before you guys will start dating, and ever since then, he’ll just adore the warmth of having your hands in his; your first kiss after a lil’ spontaneous hiking at a cliff; how he hugs you whenever he’s lost in his feeling for you (which is literally almost all the time) before leaning in to give a soft peck on your cheek; he will often feel as though maybe you shouldn’t be with him and that you deserve better, so during those times, please comfort him and remind him that he’s loved.

Thank you so, so much for ordering and being so kind; Kyupid hopes to see you again! Have a wonderful day, cutiepie ♡⋆.ೃ࿔*

an: you’re literally so nice 🥺 like thank you, bby, honestly. i really hope you enjoyed this! pls give tendou all the love and kisses that he deserves.

also thank you for requesting, bcus of you, i just now realized that i have been sleeping on my bby chicken tendou, and i will now commit to being a full time simp just for him… so expect me to pull up if you ever hurt my mans 😤🥺 jk ily

if you notice anything wrong with your request, dm me please so i can fix it! if the gif isn’t working if you don’t see any colored texts at all.

[weareallfallengods]

LOTR Post-apocalyptic one shot

When Middle Earth gets to like- the idk, sixth or seventh age? would it be more of a futuristic setting but like with hobbits in space suits and dwarfs crafting radioactive machines and stuff.

(Shhhhh.... i know that like the elves disappear and man becomes really the only one that stays after awhile but I WANT A FANTASY FALLOUT SETTING!

From @pippinstook

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

The Endless Winter was the Elves' fault.

Like all the Great Calamities of Middle-Earth, the best and worst times were ushered in by Elves.

And they wonder why we hate them.

We Dwarves remember the Silmarils War. We stayed out of the War of Sauron's Return because the Elves created that mess to begin with, and it was theirs to clean up. We saw the Halflings get roped into it, and there were some who argued we should go to their aid, remembrance of a debt owed by our people to them. But there were only 4 of them, so we remained apart.

And so, when the Burning Wind, a storm of flame like a hundred score dragons scorching the land and sky came, we stayed underground. We saw it sweep in from the East, and we knew that once again, the Elves had doomed us all.

We stayed underground, our trading partners gone, our surface holdings buried under a white ash that burned and blinded as it rained from the sky. We delved deeper, broader, sealed all but a few entrances to the surface behind gold and lead. Entire boulevards bricked up in stacks of now useless gold.

They thought we were ostentatious with our wealth before. If they could only see us now. Admittedly, we flaunted our wealth in the 4th Age- and why wouldnt we? We worked and slaved and toiled for generations of men to build it. Of course we were going to enjoy the fruits of our labors.

Our grandfathers survived once the King discovered that only he, in his gold-covered armors, remained sunburnt by the Elven Ash. The King ordered the gates sealed, the treasury turned over to the armored and craftsmen as gold suddenly became not a luxury, but something necessary to protect our people from the folly of the Elves. 

Our people still got ill, still died long before their time. Some had strange growths, babies were born with extra limbs, or none at all. Mothers wept at not being able to feed their newborns, and fathers felt tears dampen their beards as they carved tomb after tomb for children that should have been the ones to carve theirs instead.

But we survived.

We learned to cover every bit of clothing, every scrap of leather and cloth in gold. Every chamber, every street, every cavern lined in it. No longer was lead cast aside as nothing more than a tinker's tool. Now every drop of it was precious, beaten flat and covered in gold, used to line the halls of our kingdoms.

So my great-grandfather told my father, as he told me. As I will tell my sons and daughters, so they never forget.

It's truly amazing what we Dwarves will create when left to our own devices. Every hundred years or so, the King will send a group of volunteers to the surface, to see if the Endless Winter showed any signs of abating, if the burning ash burns less.

As the centuries passed, little changed on the surface. But there were many who grew tired of our isolation, and longed for the fresh wind and the companionship of our brothers in other kingdoms.

Rather than repress them, our king, in his wisdom, appointed those who still longed for the outside world to create ways to survive in the hellish land the Elves had rained down upon us.

And so our skills increased, our machines becoming ever more complex as our Creatives strive to find ways to lessen the impact of the Winter, and make our lives more comfortable and productive.

We discovered the expansive properties of steam, we harnessed the fires of the earth itself to warm our homes, and light our streets. We created artificial sun and starlight, not with the magic of the Elves, or the primitive tallow fires of men, but with ingenuity and clever machines. Balls of glass that glowed like the sun, and drops of sapphire that shone like stars.

We created lightning, and stored it in jars. We built the power of the ancient gods ourselves. Columns that shone bright to light the day, and tiny blue stars of light in the carven ceilings to make the night less black. We took those jars, and fashioned gears and wheels and wire to drive our mining carts and lifts. We created hammers driven by the heat of the earth and the explosive power of water. We made glass, coated in gold so fine you could see through it, and for the first time in a generation, had windows to bring sun and moonlight down to the kingdom. What little there was. 

We made great mirrors, and reflected that light to our farms, and homes. The Creatives made giant mirrors and lenses, and used them to see great distances from the Sightglass they built on the top of our mountain. The first time they were able to look through it, and see for hundreds of leagues was looked forward too with such anticipation! And met with such bitter disappointment. For as far as the eye could see, even with the Sightglass, there was nothing but more of the burning ash blanketing the world.

So we stayed below, as we have always done. And another generation passed.

And the Creatives made another leap forward. They created glass that could be layered with transparent gold, and made helmets and armor and boots and gloves that were finally able to withstand the burning of the Winter on the surface. They created carts, driven by the heat of rocks they found on the surface, that when enclosed properly, and cooled with water, powered those carts, and enabled us to finally start exploring the surface again.

And so we finally emerged after all this time. Dwarves, covered in gold, driving carts that glowed and shone like the sun that could no longer be seen. Dwarves, with golden gears clicking about them, steam rising from their shoulders as the armor made by the Creatives did it's work of making the air breathable, and keeping out the ash and dust. Dwarves with golden-hued glass helms, leaving virgin footprints in the ashen plains around the mountain. 

Dwarves, had finally managed to reclaim the earth.

And we explored. We searched for any sign that other life had returned to the surface. We traveled long and far, always finding nothing more than half-buried ruins of ancient civilizations; giant statues and crumbling walls, trees turned to stone, rivers nothing more than vast trenches filled with powdery ash that we sank in as if it was actually water, long petrified bones serving as the only memorial to those who once filled the cities of men.

More and more of us migrated to the surface, our new Technics affording us the same protections of our ancient caverns. We started to realize as a people that our love of caves stemmed primarily from a desire to be left alone as a people, a way to avoid being interfered with. And now that the surface was empty, there was nothing dissuading us from enjoying it.

And then the world as we had come to know it changed.

Reports from the Foragers came back that they had found a place untouched by the Endless Winter. A place where green still existed.

No one believed them at first, but then the silverplate images started coming back. Plates that showed trees. Rivers that held water. A deer. Things no one alive had ever seen with their own eyes. And most still didn't believe.

Until one day, the Foragers brought back an oak tree. A sapling, green and lithe, rooted in black earth, set in a pit of solid gold, a dome of golden glass shielding it from the ash.

Not long after that monumental revelation, our entire town mobilized. Great carts with wheels of chain to move entire houses were built. Flexible bridges covered in golden glass wove between them, domes of gold creating a sea of glittering bubbles that floated across the plains as an entire Dwarven city slowly crept across the fields and hills of ash.

Ten years it took for our city to make it to the eastern mountains. Ten years of waiting impatiently to see what the Foragers had been promising us.

And then we finally saw it with our own eyes. We saw the ash fade into brown grass and weeds, and those give way gradually to actual grasses, and bushes, and finally, a single tree at the top of the ridge.

But what we saw from that ridge left even our most effusive poets speechless.

Green. Nothing but green as far as we could see. An emerald jewel of a vale set apart from the ashen wasteland behind us. And birds. A young one claimed they spotted a deer. The sound of a small stream twinkled through the air like a long forgotten melody of hope. A single, thin spire hung in the air, and only the Eldest was able to remember what it was called or what it meant.

Smoke! Specifically, chimney smoke. It rose from the forest like a beacon, a sign that we may not be the only ones to have survived.

As we were debating the best way to approach whomever may be there, we were all shocked to the bone to hear a small voice right behind our Elder.

"'Ere! Wotcha 'bout then? Not from 'round 'here, are yous?"

Of all those who could have survived, of course it had to be the Hobbits.

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[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

(If it hasn't already been asked) How about a scenario with Yandere!Johnny and his S/O using/based on some lyrics from Tusk?

Hopefully you don’t mind it a bit modern au-ish thing for it, cause you know phones. I’m gonna go with some kind of roommate thing.

Also with this piece, I lost some of it from my page refreshing…so to save some of my sanity I just cut it off where I had it, I really just didn’t want to up and delete this. I worked on it for a few hours straight. 

  Johnny’s index finger gently rubs circles on the table he was sitting at. All while watching you scrub some dishes out you had provided for a person you had over for lunch. He could tell you had a good time with them from the small smile that still graced your lips. It was subtle but he learned quickly it was something you didn’t realize you did. Which made you even cuter in his eyes.

  The blond wondered if the person who you invited over bothered to notice that. Maybe, or maybe not…but it made such a difference to him.

 “Y/n?” He finally managed to mumble out.

“Yes?” You asked not looking away from the dishes you were working on washing the suds off of.

“How was it?”

Your eyes looked over to him for a moment before returning them to the sink “Oh, hanging out with them? It was great” You answered. ““They were really funny…even if some of the jokes were a little corny”

Shaking your head “but seriously they kept the conversation going really well, I just hope I didn’t bore them half to death”

You went onto explain about the few things this person and you had in common. Though every word was a disinterested muddle of words, he didn’t really care. All this caused was jealousy burning in his chest. The way you described their eyes, and how they’d react to whatever you said, it made him upset. The way you were talking about them, it seemed like it would lead to another date.

 He had to stand up and calm himself down, he darted over to you and came behind your back. The blond’s head coming down onto your neck. He felt you jump at his sudden presence behind you.

“Whoa, a little close there Johnny” You chuckled awkwardly.

“Sorry, I just wanted to see how much more you had to go” He responded dully “So I can help you if you need it”

“Well I guess you can help rinse and dry what I have left” you shrug while gesturing him to stand next to you.

He wasn’t sure how much he could take of him, even if it was just you talking about them.

Why don’t you ask him if he’s going to stay?

  The blond watched you leave out the door for a few hours the following few days. It was usually a little after when you got back home. Though there was one evening you didn’t get back until midnight.

“Where were you?” He asked “You kind of came home late”

You yawn tiredly while throwing your purse aside on the coffee table in the living room. “Oh I was watching a movie with f/n, I fell asleep halfway through..and I lost track of time” You chuckled sleepily.

A honk outside made you jump slightly as you comment you probably forgot something in their car. The entire time Johnny watched coldly keeping his blue eyes on the person he could see in the driver’s seat. The longer you took the more he wanted to come bring you back in himself.

 He decided against it for now, and watched in disgruntled silence as he heard you ask them something. However they ended up declining with their hand visibly indicating it. Eventually you gave a wave to them before finally walking back into the front door.

  “You know you haven’t been at home much” Johnny commented softly while shutting the door behind you both.

 “Don’t you have Gyro to hang around with?” You asked “You’re pretty good friends with him”

“I do but it’s not the same as being around you” The blond retorted

You stared at him a bit wide eyed for a moment trying to process the meaning of what he meant by that. A tired sigh escaped your lips as you excused it as some sleep deprivation. In reality though you just didn’t want to deal with this tonight.

 Walking up to him you simply cupped the Joestar’s cheek gently while firmly staring at him. “Goodnight, Johnny”

He felt exhilaration as your soft hands eventually left his cheeks. He yearned for you to do it more often. This was just one of the things he was wanting, but it seemed you didn’t see what he saw in the same way.

Why don’t you ask him if he’s going away?

Eventually Johnny took to following you to wherever your presume friend lived. Every little detail that came out of his or your mouth. Even when he was with Gyro he couldn’t help but think about you and them. He wondered if you seeing them so often would ever pass.

  ““Hey, Johnny….Johnny…are you listening?”

He shook his head to see the green eyed blond in front of him looking with some impatience.

“Sorry…” Johnny sighed

“What’s gotten into you huh? You’ve been staring at nothing for the past fifteen minutes”

The blue eyed male looked at him with slight disinterest. “Maybe we can do this some other time”

 Gyro huffed with annoyance as his short blond haired friend walked off.

  Something was up with that blond but no one could get anything out of him. At least none of his peers could it seemed. But they all could just see it in his eyes there had been an underlying problem.

Johnny slowly became more clingy to you, trying to hold your hand while the both of you sat on the couch. He also started insisting going places he didn’t usually go with you. It seriously squicked you out at how affectionate he was being lately. Especially on the nights you came back late, he’d be waiting right there in the living room for you.

   There were times you tried to sneak in another way to try to avoid him but he’d still catch you.

Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?

“You don’t need to sneak in our own home” He mumbled while holding you tightly.

 “I just didn’t want to wake you up just in case you were trying to sleep” you respond with uncertainty.

His arms continue to snake across your waist, further freaking you out than the extremely close proximity you were in with each other.

 “I know that’s not the truth….you’re trying to avoid me” he softly cut in

“I already have to deal with you not being here when I get home…now you do this…” His lips softly drag across your neck to under your chin.

  Heart pumping rapidly you use one of your hands to force back the short haired blond’s face. “J-Johnny cut that out”

   His eyes gaze straight into yours without a single care in the world. Your legs suddenly feel like jelly as you collapse into his chest. With a little bit of enthralled enthusiasm he catches you without fail.

   ““I know you’ve been dating awhile…you and him…” he whispered in your ear

“I never did like it when I saw him hold you so close, I just wanted to tear him away from you so bad”

 After a brief pause of hugging you he continues on  ““But I can take care of it no problem, I know him just about as well as you do y/n”

“W-wait what do you think you’re trying to pull?” You asked hesitantly 

  “I won’t be able to love you with him smothering you so much, you should be softly humming my name…I’d honestly love to hear it, unlike when you do so with theirs”

   Shaking your head violently you insisted he couldn’t just barge in and do whatever he saw fit. 

   ““I kind of figured you wouldn’t understand…” he admitted in response

“I’m still going to do it though….but you can stay here out of the way, and after all is set and done…”

“I can keep you so close…that I’ll never let you go”