#i wanted to hit him with something more harder

[rosiesareblu]

choso has you in the meanest mating press, knees pressed to your chest and the most lewd expression on your face. choso just keeps bullying his cock in you. a mix of yours and his spent sullying the sheets below you both. mind blanking and whirring in pleasure. you’re barely pushing his shoulders, shaking from how sensitive you were, but he just presses his hips harder against yours whining, “no no baby please, y’told me i could fill you up, ‘m gon’ make you feel s’good, mhm?”

he’s whining and gripping your thighs so hard, you think it might just leave some nasty bruises but he really can’t help it. he just feels so good, you feel so good. he digs his face into your neck, his panting breaths roll down your skin as he grinds his cock into you. “‘m gonna cum fuck please—“ he’s babbling and almost crying from how good you make him feel. “hngg— you feel— fuck! feel so good, baby— y’feel so good— fuck please!” at this point choso doesn’t even know why he’s saying please, its as if he’s asking for mercy for how good he feels. it’s too much.

with how sensitive you are, you try pushing his shoulders back, wanting a break from his cock abusing its way into you. “choso— mm, please, can’t—!”

“no! you can, baby, please—“ he sobs, “please, one more!” his hands move to your hands gripping his shoulders, he holds them in place above your head and snaps his hips harder, letting out a choked moan as your walls try to push him out from how much you’re clenching.

you turn your head to the side, burying it in the pillow below you as your mind goes hazy from the pleasure, feeling that familiar warmth spreading in your abdomen. but choso doesn’t seem to like that as he leans into you and nudges your head to face him.

“look at me, baby, please.” he pants, his hips snapping against yours in a sloppy rhythm. “need t’see you when you cum.”

tears well into your eyes as you try to keep your half-lidded eyes trained onto his. you squirm around as you feel that tight coil in your stomach. “mm— choso— oh fuck, please. gon’ cum.”

“mhm, cum for me baby, yeah?” he moans out, pressing your lower stomach down with his free hand. it makes you thrash around as his tip hits that spot, gasping as your orgasm hits you like a train.

choso growls as he slots his lips on to yours and slides his tongue in your mouth. you cry out as you try to push him away. wanting to breath, but with the way he’s pushing his cock deeper, chasing his high, and shoving his tongue down your throat, your already fuzzy head turns woozy as you’re deprived of oxygen.

you turn your head away, gasping for air. choso whines at the loss of your lips and chases after you. “mphh— no no wait baby one more kiss,” his tongue slipping into your mouth once more, groaning at your pathetic whines. he lets out a final whine as he spills into you, fucking you well and slowly losing pace to a stop as he sits inside your walls.

he pulls away and stares as you gasp out for air, letting out a grunt of pleasure as you shake. he runs his hands on your thighs, to your stomach, satisfied with how much he’s filled you.

he rubs his thumb against your tummy as he pushes it slightly making you jump and push his hands away at the over sensitivity of it all.

“shh baby you’re ok.” he breathes out, rubbing at your skin as you come down from your high. he hums softly as he moves you to your side and holds you in his arms, making sure he sits right inside you still.

“my baby, was s’good.” choso mutters as he kisses your head, his fingers massaging the back of your head gently. you nuzzle against his chest as you let out a sigh of satisfaction.

choso silently rubs your back as your tired eyes close and you slowly drift to sleep. his eyes drag over your face, then down to your stomach where he splays his hand over it.

he really could never get enough of filling your cute cunt up.

————————

alright that’s that for my annual post LOL do what yall wanna do with this one, chat. i’ll see you in the next one or something ✌️

[whokilledsamara]

so about the mr. silvair hc where he makes mr. chopped watch with our permission... 👀 pls write something about that 🙏🙏🙏🙏

WATCHING

a Mr. Silvair x afab reader fic {an: if you want an amab reader version, send in another request :)}

warnings || smut, vouyerism, slight asphyxiation, hair pulling, cuckhold, multiple positions, NEEDLE MENTION AT START!! {not smut related}

{an: i stared at this in my ask box and kept thinking of a way to write it,, also just a oneshot, not too long :)}

a small huff releases you as Mr. Silvair injects the needle into your arm, before slowly pulling the tab as blood fills the syringe. "What do you even need this for anyways?" you ask, staring up at him. he pauses and tilts his head, seemingly confused. "...?" his gaze, or lack there of, set on your face. "Why, Doing?" you finally say, voice cracking at the foreign language that you still cant get the hang of. he thinks for a second, before shrugging. "Need, Blood. Experiments." he answers, quickly returning to your arm.

well that didnt answer your question..

allowing him to finish his administrations, seemingly pleased with your cooperation, he stands back up. Mr. Silvair makes his way into his experiment room, disappearing for a moment. Mr. Chopped was seated happily on the couch as always, beckoning you over with his chats. you sit down next to him, gently petting his head and murmuring 'cute' in their language. chatting conquers for a good while, even as you struggle to remember his language, but manage.

Mr. Silvair emerges from his lab, a fresh coat on. he beckons you closer with a finger, smiling softly when you obey. "Remove, Clothing" he states matter of fact. pausing, your face heats up with both confusion and embarrassment. "W-What..?" you ask quietly. he stares at you for a second before pointing at your lower abdomen. "Me touch. Experiment." he hums softly. your face heats up even further, eyes flicking from him to Mr. Chopped who was still seated with a confused expression. "Me can remove resident. Want?" he asks with a gentle smile as always. it takes a second for you to process his words, and before you can think, you find yourself shaking your head. "He can stay.." you say with a flushed face. his smile grows wider, pleased at your response. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you gently reach for your clothes, slipping them off with ease.

"Desire, Carry! Desire, Carry!!" Mr. Chopped exclaims with excitement. a low chuckle escapes Mr. Silvair's lips and with gentle hands he picks the head up, placing him closer to the both of you. "Pretty!" he says happily, appraising your naked form. "Thank you.." you mutter, a small squeak leaving your lips as Mr. Silvair's hands suddenly grip your waist, walking you to the couch and gently pressing you down on it, chest up. his hand drags down your torso, in between the valley of your breasts and down your stomach. a shiver runs down your spine when his hand gently parts your thighs, exposing your glistening folds to his gaze. the smile on his face curls up even more, and with an experimental touch, he runs a finger in between your lips. instinctively, your back arches off the couch, a hushed whine leaving your lips. "Interesting." he mutters under his breath. Mr. Chopped couldn't look any happier, excited noises leaving his mouth with every touch Mr. Silvair makes on your needy body. "Turn around." he says, gently patting your thigh with a smile. obediently, you position yourself on all fours, making your chest hit the couch and your hips in the air. a pleased hum leaves his chest, his gentle yet massive hand caressing your ass. excited giggles leave Mr. Chopped as expected, but hit a high pitch when Mr. Silvair lays an unexpected yet soft pat to your bottom. "Again!" the head says with a giddy smile. another chuckle leaves Mr. Silvair and he complies, asserting another slap, this time a bit harder.

a shuffling sound can be heard behind you, but a second before you can look back, you feel something poke your entrance. something big. he runs his member up and down your slit, collecting the juices dripping from it and using it as a lube of some sort. Mr. Silvair's hands gently grasp you, spreading you for easier access. pain shoots through your core as he slowly presses himself inside of you, a low grunt leaving his lips in pleasure. "Feels good." he reassures you, leaning down to press his chest against your bare back when he bottoms out. the cold air of the room you made your senses heighten, but what made it all the more was his cold hands gripping your hips as he laid down shallow thrusts. when he felt your hips push back, he took it as a sign to go faster, quickly picking up the pace with his thrusts. whines and moans left your lips, Mr. Chopped's eyes following your every movement.

"Faster?" Mr. Silvair questions, his hand reaching around to grab the front of your neck, pulling you up some. tears fall down your face as you nod, blood staining your lip from biting so hard. his hand moves from your neck to your chin, turning your face to the side in a quick kiss, rough due to his intense thrusts. "S-Silvair- fuck- i cant take.. hic.. it-" and while he didnt quite understand your words, he didnt take it as a bad sign. his thrusts only quickened, his hips desperately slapping against your ass.

"Me want see!" Mr. Chopped whines, pouting at his lack of view, mainly only seeing Mr. Silvair's back. "mmmmghh.." you groan against the couch cushion, yelping at the sudden change of position when Mr. Silvair flips you onto your back. he slips back in with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder and pressing you down with his hips. "a-ahh- mmmm.." you whine, the pathetic moans leaving your lips seemingly spurring Silvair on. his hand travels down and rubs furiously on your clit, your hands suddenly shooting out to grab his shoulders, one managing to slip into his hair and tug. he lets out a low groan, his face turning into one of pure pleasure. his hand rubs faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts in effort to make you cum before he does.

with another thrust and a magical finger on your clit, your back arches as far as possible, your orgasm ripping through you like fireworks. "fuuuuccckk..." a long curse leaves your lips and not long after yours, Silvair's orgasm follows. hot spurts of cum fill you, and in the background you both can hear Mr. Chopped giggling. you wince as Mr. Silvair pulls his length out, his previous cum dripping out of your well spent hole. he smiles gently down at you, quickly making his way to clean you up. once finished, his hand gently caresses your head. "Again! Again!" Mr. Chopped exclaims, a big smile on his face. both you and Mr. Silvair laugh softly, your tired expression speaking for you. he gently pats your thigh, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"Later."

{an: aughh sorry the end is kind of cheezy, ive been working on this throughout the day,,, 💔}

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

baby, ride me to the darkness of the night

“F-Fuck—Ughh—can you feel it, baby? Can you feel my big cock pounding into your pussy to the rhythm of the music?”

Of course you could feel it. Oh, you felt it all too well.

Falling for Gojo Satoru’s charm wasn’t exactly a challenge. One glance from him was enough to have you slipping your panties down, wet and ready, waiting for him. And once he was inside you? The sensations he’d bring were like nothing you’d ever felt before.

You hadn’t even wanted to go to the club tonight, but your best friend had insisted you needed to celebrate finishing your midterms with something fun. Begrudgingly, you’d let yourself be dragged along, realizing that the night’s control was no longer yours.

At first, you’d rolled your eyes and sighed. But after a few shots, you felt bold enough to dance. On the dance floor, grinding against your best friend, collecting every wandering gaze, you had no idea the most dangerous one of all had already undressed you with his eyes and was fucking you senseless in his mind. Not until your friend leaned in, whispering about the blue-eyed devil watching you from upstairs.

People had given him many names: “The Strongest,” “Blue-Eyed King,” “Perfect Face.” But to you, the only one that truly fit was “Devil.”

Devil always got what he wanted. Sometimes, he lured people into his games with wicked tricks. Other times, he simply waited, his prey crawling to him willingly.

When you glanced in the direction your friend indicated, it became clear the Devil had already chosen you for his game. And without a word of protest, you chose to be his willing sacrifice.

You had no idea when exactly his hand gripped your waist and pulled you away while you were dancing with your friend. You could feel the hardness pressing against your ass. In fact, it was impossible not to feel it. And you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering just how much harder he could get.

Well, testing it wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Turns out, the results were conclusive. So much so that the Devil himself—Gojo Satoru—couldn’t hold back anymore. He’d dragged you into the women’s restroom, pinning you to the wall, his lips devouring yours the moment you were alone.

And now? Now your legs were wrapped around his waist, your already too-short dress pushed up to your hips, while his thick cock plunged in and out of you.

Each thrust hit that perfect spot, leaving you delirious as the beat of “São Paulo” synced with the rhythm of his hips. Your back slammed against the wall with every stroke, driving you closer and closer to madness.

You were letting the club owner fuck you senseless in the women’s restroom—something you never would’ve imagined yourself doing.

“S-Satoru—sl-slow-slow down, it’s too much,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the pounding music outside.

“Fuck no, baby. Haaah—I know you don’t want me to slow down. You just want more, you filthy little slut. F-Fuck, yeah—” he growled, his masculine rumble sending a shiver down your spine as he thrust into you harder and faster.

The sound of your bodies colliding echoed through the bathroom, but not a single soul dared to interrupt. It was as if, even through the blaring music, your shared moans were enough to warn everyone off. Nobody wanted to interfere with the Devil’s play.

And they had no right to.

“Mmmfp—I’m—I’m gonna—OH GOD, Satoru, I’m coming! Keep going!” you cried out, your voice trembling with the orgasm building inside you.

With one hand braced against the wall and the other gripping your hip, Satoru quickly moved his hand from the wall to your hip, using both to bounce you harder on his cock. It felt so good that you weren’t sure anyone else could ever fuck you this perfectly again.

“Shit—I’m coming too… You’re going to take all my cum like a good girl. Like *smack* a *smack* good *smack* fucking *smack* girl,” he hissed, accentuating each word with a deliberate thrust.

With a guttural groan, he spilled inside you, his head dropping to rest against the curve of your neck as his hot breath fanned across your skin. You could feel his semen dripping down your thighs as your legs trembled around him.

You closed your eyes, trying to process what had just happened.

You’d let the Devil ride you to the darkness. And it turned out, people were right—devil wasn’t a little red man with horns and a tail.

Sometimes, he had striking blue eyes and a massive cock.

a little note: i was listening to "são paulo" on the metro, and this idea came to my mind. this song definitely gives off Gojo vibes.

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[minswriting]

Post prison Spencer being a soft dom but wanting to be pegged still and whimpering how good his girl is doing…. Plz 🙏🏾

nsfw | mdni | pegging (m) | not really soft dom spence but def post prison

being in a relationship with spencer, the two of you had learned a lot from one another sexually. there’s just something about sex and emotions, something that chemically helps the brain in some sort. electrical pulses, hormones, release of cortisol, all that beautiful stuff. one of the things that had always helped stop stressing so very much was spencer was getting your silicone cock in his ass.

but ever since he had gone to prison, he hadn’t been wanting it. in fact, he had taken on a more dominant role, something that you two usually shared evenly together. not that you minded too much but you also worried for his mental well-being.

so when spencer had come home extremely wound up and very stressed, you had taken it upon yourself to calm him down, coaxing him into letting you take care of him. and when he agreed easily, you knew he desperately wanted it.

spencer had his head down and ass up while you thrusted into him hard and fast. the whines that left his lips and loud moans when you gave a particularly harsh thrust was absolutely like music to your ears. you had assumed that he would’ve tried his best to stay quiet, shy to cry out in pleasure. but instead, spencer was quite vocal. not that you minded at all.

“o-oh fuck,” spencer moaned into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut. “just like that, baby, oh my god.”

you continued your pace, breathing heavily as you thrusted your hips. you watched as the silicone cock moved in and out of spencer, watching how his body tensed with each movement. you gripped his hips, holding them tightly. “do you like this, spence? like it when i fuck you?” you asked, your hips not faltering.

“love it so much, darling,” he moaned.

“mm,” you replied, moving your hips harder, hitting spencer’s prostate.

the sudden harshness of your thrusts caused spencer to cry out in pleasure. “right there! please don’t stop, baby. oh my god, i’m so close.” he practically whined.

and you didn’t stop. not until spencer was whining, shooting his load onto the mattress and writhing in pleasure. it had been the most intense orgasm you had seen spencer have in a long while. and one that he most certainly needed.

[comflexxed]

june blinked, hans’ words hitting him harder than he expected. a single parent. the realization settled heavily in his chest, and guilt immediately followed behind. he has assumed so much about hans life without ever asking, assumed so much about him and clara. sunny didn’t have two parents to share in her laughter and tears. she only had hans, leaving him to care for her twice as much to make up for it.

his gaze fell to hans, sitting on the couch, holding sunny’s dragon book with a protective fondness. there was something raw in hans’ voice, a quiet crack in his carefully constructed composure.

june swallowed hard, the weight of his assumptions pressing down on him. slowly, he moved to the arm of the couch, sitting lightly as if afraid to intrude. his eyes lingered on the book, its edges worn from use, and then drifted to hans, his face etched with love and exhaustion.

when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “i didn’t know.” the words felt small, inadequate, but they were all he could manage. he hesitated, glancing at hans, then at the book. “i’m sorry.” he added softly.

there was so much more he wanted to say — an apology for his assumptions, an offer of support, something to lighten the burden hans was carrying — but none of it felt right. instead, he let the silence stretch between them, hoping hans could feel the sincerity in his presence

june learned forward a bit, trying to catch hans’ eyes. “you’re doing an amazing job, hans,” june said finally, the words were simple but heartfelt. he didn’t elaborate — he didn’t need to. sunny was proof enough.

hans was waiting for the ball to drop, for the finality in june’s words saying it was time to go, to end the night now that sunny was asleep, but hearing him say he was not in any rush made his insides get all confused. “it’s comforting?” he asked without meaning to, the words coming out more as a testament to his unpreparedness to have the option to be with june for a little longer. 

trying to regain his composure, he made his way to the couch, sitting in his favorite spot and following june with his gaze. “i uhm—“ he stuttered, not quite knowing what to say but glad they could have this chance to talk. he hadn’t been this nervous around a person recently, and he hadn’t wanted to express himself clearly more than anything else. to see if there was something he had missed, to clear the air so that this tension wouldn’t seep into june and sunny’s relationship at school. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight,” he admitted openly, taking a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair nervously.

he picked up the book sunny had forgotten to bring with her to her room, and he smiled fondly at it, at what he thought it symbolized the first time he saw it in their classroom. june had taken the effort to put this book out for sunny after hearing about how much she had been loving dragons recently. that attention to detail, that attention given to sunny, it made hans’ heart feel warm. “i really appreciate how good you are with sunny. she’s a good kid, she really is. energetic, but good, you know?” the gratitude, the fondness, the worry--it all made him teary-eyed as he spoke, but he kept it all back, doing his best to keep his emotions in check.

he worked through all the pages of the book, each one familiar to him already from having to read it with sunny repeatedly. “i don’t want to ever make her feel like she’s too much for anyone.” as much as he tried, the protectiveness over his daughter spilled out like a broken dam, and hans couldn’t help the words he said. “i want something permanent for her, a home where she can feel safe and supported, and not worry that one day she’ll lose someone. we’ve been through that before, even though she’s too young to remember, but—i’m doing my best, i really am. i may not be able to split my body in two to give her two parents, but i’m loving her twice as much.” 

[mydearestbeloved]

Chapter 20 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

Jinwoo expected a simple meeting.

The kind of meeting he had grown used to—just you, him, your butterflies, and his shadows. He wasn’t sure what he wanted out of today’s talk, but he knew it would be significant. So, imagine his surprise when, upon entering your shop, he was greeted not by you, but by a stunningly elegant woman clad in a mix of black and white, bowing deeply.

“Greetings, Sire,” she said, her voice calm yet warm. “It’s been a while. I hope Sir Jinwoo and his family have been well.”

Jinwoo blinked. That voice—so familiar. And that crimson hair, a vivid shade identical to that of one of your butterflies. He froze, a realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

“R-Red?” His voice faltered, disbelief clear in his tone.

The woman straightened, her fiery red eyes gleaming with unmistakable delight. “It truly is a pleasure to introduce myself to you properly now, Sire.”

She smiled brighter, and Jinwoo noted how similar it was to the glow your crimson butterfly displayed whenever it radiated happiness. She looked radiant, regal even, yet there was a gentle familiarity in her demeanor. Before he could say anything else, Igris’s shadowy form flickered out from his side, curiosity practically pouring off the knight’s ethereal figure.

“Oh, hello to you too, Sir Igris!” Red beamed, inclining her head toward him.

Igris stood motionless, the faintest tilt of his helm suggesting his own shock. Jinwoo didn’t know what was more surreal—the fact that one of your butterflies was now a person or the fact that she was now speaking to Igris like an old friend.

Then, he spotted you emerging from a doorway at the back of the shop, carrying a small box. Relief surged through him—finally, someone who could explain. He turned, and before he could stop himself, he fixed you with a very pointed, very intense stare.

You sweatdropped as you took in the scene: Jinwoo’s laser-focused expression, Red’s beaming aura, and Igris standing frozen while wearing what appeared to be a flower crown, likely crafted by Red.

“Stop glaring at me, Jinwoo,” you said, exasperated yet amused. “I’ll explain, seriously.”

---

The four of you eventually settled at a table in your shop’s small sitting area. Red served the drinks—tea for you, coffee for Jinwoo—before bowing again and stepping back to stand near Igris. Jinwoo’s eyes flicked between her and Igris, noting how her movements seemed to mimic those of her butterfly form—graceful, purposeful, almost weightless.

“So,” Jinwoo began, breaking the silence, “you can level up again now?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“And your butterflies?” His gaze briefly darted to Red, who had taken a seat next to Igris and was now carefully braiding strands of crimson into the ethereal knight’s shadowy figure. Jinwoo had to fight the urge to rub his temples.

“The adult stage unlocked after I completed my ascension quest,” you explained, your tone calm and professional. “Once my children max out their pupa stage, they can ascend to a more corporeal form and gain autonomy. Red here was one of the first to make the leap.”

Jinwoo flinched slightly at the mention of the ascension quest and, by extension, the demon castle. The memory of you nearly collapsing in that fight still lingered in the back of his mind. But something else about your words caught his attention.

“What’s your level now?” he asked, feeling a mix of curiosity and dread.

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers brushing against the edge of your teacup. “I’m at level 150—”

Jinwoo exhaled, his pride slightly bruised but still intact. The gap was significant, but manageable. He’d just have to push harder—

“—last time.”

His mind screeched to a halt. “What?”

You fidgeted ever so slightly, a rare break in your normally composed demeanor. “Well, the system gave me cumulative EXP from all my previous quests. So, right now, I’m at level 200.”

Smack!

The sound of Jinwoo’s face meeting the table echoed through the room. You froze, startled. “Jinwoo?”

He didn’t answer, his arms now folded over his head as if to shield himself from the reality of your words. Even Igris seemed to flinch at the noise, the flower crown slipping slightly askew as Red stared on in muted curiosity.

With a sigh, you got up and walked over to Jinwoo’s slumped form. Gently, you ran your fingers through his hair, the soothing gesture a habit you’d picked up over the months. “Hey, it’s okay,” you murmured softly. “I’ve had years under the system and five years leveling up in an S-rank dungeon. Considering how fast you’re progressing, you’re doing amazing.”

Your hand stilled when Jinwoo’s fingers wrapped around it, his grip firm but not overwhelming. Slowly, he raised his head, his face still half-hidden in the crook of his arm. His ears were red, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes—half-lidded and glassy—refused to meet yours.

Oh my, you thought, struggling not to squeal internally. Is he… embarrassed?

Before you could tease him further, a familiar presence flickered at the edge of your mind. Your butterfly, Trick, spoke urgently: Mother! Miss Hae-In is—!

Simultaneously, Jinwoo’s gaze snapped to the distance, his expression turning serious. “You’re not coming?” he asked, though his tone held no judgment, only curiosity.

“No,” you replied softly. For a moment, you wanted to say more, to explain why, but you stopped yourself. Instead, you smiled at him, a look of quiet confidence and certainty.

“Then wait for me,” Jinwoo said, his hand tightening around yours before he leaned down to place a light kiss on your knuckles. His dark eyes never left yours, his gaze filled with an intensity that left your heart skipping a beat.

“Of course,” you replied, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.

He vanished into the shadows moments later, Igris trailing after him—but not before offering Red a small wave, which she returned with a subtle, wistful smile.

---

As silence returned to the room, you exhaled slowly, a strange determination settling in your chest. Red stepped up beside you, her expression now calm but expectant.

“Now then,” you said, setting your teacup down with a resolute clink. “Shall we see what these new powers can do?”

---

Jinwoo stood over the body of the Ant King, its grotesque form crumbling into ash under the weight of his shadows. But his focus wasn't on his victory. Instead, his eyes darted to the figure lying prone on the sandy ground. Cha Hae-In's body lay lifeless, save for the faint, flickering aura of a silver butterfly perched delicately on her cheek. It pulsed softly, a quiet rhythm that echoed her waning heartbeat.

The butterfly, one of yours. Jinwoo clenched his fists, frustration bubbling inside him.

"Why didn't she heal her completely?" Jinwoo muttered under his breath. You could’ve saved Cha Hae-In without breaking a sweat, yet you didn’t. His mind raced for answers. Was it the system? Had it restrained you again, as it so often did? Or… was there another reason?

His thoughts were cut short by the labored breathing of Hunter Cha. Jinwoo's jaw tightened. If you weren’t going to intervene fully, then it was up to him to finish what you'd started. You trusted him, didn’t you? He’d never failed you before—and he wasn’t about to start now.

The silver butterfly pulsed brighter, a soft hum that seemed to whisper, Hurry.

---

When Min Byung-Gyu opened his eyes, he was certain he should not have been able to. The last thing he remembered was the Ant King’s claws ripping through his body, the searing pain of his life slipping away. Yet here he stood, whole and unblemished, surrounded by a surreal, ethereal landscape.

The ground beneath him was soft, a mosaic of red spider lilies swaying gently in a nonexistent breeze. Their vibrant petals bled into a shallow pool of water, so pristine it mirrored the heavens above. Stars twinkled against the deep navy expanse of the sky, a sight unmarred by clouds or smoke.

And in the center of this dreamlike domain stood a figure cloaked in flowing white, her silhouette blurred at the edges as if dissolving into the glimmering butterflies that surrounded her. Her face was partially veiled, her lips and the tip of her nose visible beneath the translucent fabric.

"You really are a warm person," came her voice—soft, serene, and achingly familiar.

Byung-Gyu turned toward her, his eyes widening. That aura... that presence. It was healing, nurturing, and yet... unearthly. His heart told him he was in the presence of something divine, but his instincts as a healer told him this figure was no god. She was something more. Something human.

The woman smiled faintly, though there was a certain weight in her tone. "Would you like to return alive?"

Her words took him by surprise. Byung-Gyu took a step back, glancing down at his hands. His last memory was of his death—there was no mistaking it.

"I... What do you mean?" he asked hesitantly.

"I can give you a second chance to live," the woman replied. Her voice was unwavering, yet there was a detachment to it, as if she were merely relaying a message. "I think you deserve it. However, it’s not up to me to decide."

Byung-Gyu’s brows furrowed. He could feel the warmth emanating from her, yet there was something distant about her gaze.

"You have a strong sense of duty," she continued, her tone softening slightly. "But know this: if you accept my offer, you are to never step foot on the battlefield again. Even if your friends are in danger. Even if the world itself is ending. The moment you fight again, you will die."

Her words struck him like a thunderclap. Byung-Gyu’s lips parted as if to protest, but no sound came out. He stared at her, his mind swirling with questions, doubts, and fears. This woman—this being—spoke with an authority that was impossible to challenge. And yet, there was no malice in her decree.

“Would you accept?” She extended a hand toward him, her palm steady and unshaking.

Byung-Gyu hesitated, his gaze flickering between her hand and her veiled face. "If I accept…" His voice wavered, but he steadied himself. "Would you protect them in my stead?"

The woman stilled, her expression unreadable. Then, she gave a single nod. "I will stand by humanity’s side."

Byung-Gyu frowned. It wasn’t the answer he wanted. He wanted to hear her say she would fight for them, defend them tooth and nail, as he had. But deep down, he knew better. This figure wasn’t a soldier. She wasn’t a protector in the way he was.

Still, there was something in her aura—something profoundly human. It reminded him of a mother’s love: steadfast, unwavering, and all-encompassing.

"...I'll try my best," she added quietly, her voice softer now, tinged with an emotion he couldn’t place. "Even if you don’t accept."

And just like that, his doubts began to crumble. He didn’t know why, but he trusted her. Maybe it was her warmth, or perhaps it was the quiet resolve in her voice. Whatever the reason, Byung-Gyu felt a strange peace settle over him.

"Then…" He exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. "I choose—"

A soft flutter interrupted him, and he turned his head. A single butterfly had landed on one of the spider lilies, its delicate wings glowing faintly in the starlight. It flitted up toward him, brushing past his cheek like a whisper before disappearing into the wind.

And in that moment, Byung-Gyu made his decision.

---

It was a miracle. There was no other way for Jinwoo to describe it.

The raid had concluded, and the air was heavy with the lingering tension of their battle against the Ant King. Cha Hae-In was stabilized but unconscious, cradled in Ma Dong-Wook’s arms, her condition precariously maintained by the shadow Min Byung-Gyu had become. Jinwoo, adhering to Baek Yoonho's heartfelt plea, had released the shadow of the fallen healer. For Jinwoo, it was an act of respect, honoring the wishes of the man who had given so much for humanity.

They were preparing to leave the cavern when a panicked shout rang out.

“S-Something is happening to Min Byung-Gyu's body!”

Jinwoo’s head snapped toward the source of the commotion. In the dim light of the cave, the sight unfolding before him was unmistakable: Byung-Gyu’s decapitated body was now enveloped in a radiant, otherworldly glow. The light was blinding, drowning out the cavern in pure white brilliance. Gasps echoed through the group as everyone shielded their eyes.

What the—” Jinwoo muttered, his instincts immediately going on high alert.

When the brilliance faded, Jinwoo and the others were left staring in stunned silence.

Min Byung-Gyu's body lay intact. Whole.

Not only had his previously severed head returned to its rightful place, but the wounds from the Ant King were gone. His chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his face peaceful as though waking from a restful sleep.

And then he stirred.

The collective shock in the cavern was almost tangible. No one moved or spoke, rooted to their spots as Min Byung-Gyu’s eyelids fluttered open.

He blinked slowly, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on Baek Yoonho, who stood frozen, eyes wide and trembling. Byung-Gyu’s expression softened as a faint smile spread across his lips.

“Hyung?”

The single word shattered the silence. Baek Yoonho staggered forward, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words that wouldn’t come.

“Byung-Gyu…” he finally choked out, his voice breaking.

It was a sight none of them could comprehend.

The others stared, their gazes flitting between Jinwoo and the revived healer. Choi Jong-In, Lim Tae-Gyu, Ma Dong-Wook, and even the A-rank reporter clutching his unpowered camera couldn’t hide their bewilderment. All eyes eventually settled on Jinwoo, silently demanding an explanation.

Jinwoo shook his head, signaling that he had nothing to do with it.

But inwardly, he knew. His sharp gaze caught the faint imprint of a butterfly at the base of Byung-Gyu’s neck, its golden shimmer unmistakable. It was your mark.

You had done this.

---

Later, when the others had left the cave to regroup and ensure Cha Hae-In received medical attention, Jinwoo lingered. He stood in the dim cavern, arms crossed, his shadowy aura faintly pulsing as he waited.

“You sure know how to make an entrance,” Jinwoo teased when the soft glow of silver butterflies appeared behind him, swirling gracefully before forming your familiar figure.

Your pout was immediate, and Jinwoo bit back a grin at how predictable you were. “You don’t need me, anyway,” you retorted with a sigh, brushing imaginary dust off your attire. “You have things under control.”

Jinwoo crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “Did I?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “Because it sure felt like someone went out of their way to ensure things went a little smoother.”

Your expression faltered for a moment, and you glanced away. “I only stepped in when it was absolutely necessary,” you admitted. “Min Byung-Gyu deserved a second chance. And Hae-In...” You trailed off, your tone softening. “She’s a good person.” Jinwoo didn’t press further, sensing there was more you weren’t saying. Instead, you shifted the topic.

“Jinwoo, help me test something,” you said abruptly, interrupting his thoughts.

He tilted his head, intrigued.

“I’ve been wondering why I keep accumulating experience even when the system doesn’t assign me quests anymore. You hog all the EXP and rewards,” you accused, narrowing your eyes at him.

The jab hit its mark, but Jinwoo’s pride wouldn’t let it show. Instead, he smirked. “Maybe you just can’t keep up,” he said, his tone deliberately teasing.

Your unimpressed stare nearly made him laugh.

“And what do I get for helping you?” he asked, leaning slightly closer, curious about how far you’d go to win him over this time.

“What do you want?”

The question, spoken with such quiet sincerity, caught him off guard.

Your gaze was steady, unwavering, as if you had already anticipated his response. Jinwoo blinked, momentarily at a loss. Was it wrong that your willingness to offer him anything stung a little? Did you think so little of his intentions?

“…Dinner,” he muttered, almost too softly to be heard.

You frowned. “Pardon?”

He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous tick you had come to recognize. “Join me for dinner,” he said more firmly, avoiding your eyes.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile. “You do realize that sounds like a date, right?”

The effect was immediate. Jinwoo stiffened, his composure cracking as he quickly tried to explain himself. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he stumbled over his thoughts.

You let him flounder for a moment before cutting him off with a soft laugh. “I’m joking. Sure, why not?”

Relief flashed across his face, though it was quickly masked by a neutral expression. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but your easy acceptance left him feeling oddly... dissatisfied.

---

As you suspected, your theory proved correct. You gained experience not through direct combat but by supporting others. Assisting Jinwoo, boosting his shadows, and stabilizing Cha Hae-In had all contributed to your growing level.

Yet, Jinwoo’s mood throughout the ordeal was noticeably subdued. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, there was a shadow of dejection in his eyes that even his loyal shadows couldn’t explain.

When you asked them, they only shrugged apologetically, as if to say, “We’re sorry, Lady (Name). We have no idea what’s troubling Our Liege.”

You rubbed your temples in frustration, your butterflies fluttering around you in a show of concern.

What has gotten into him now?

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [23/11/2024] -

[babydray777]

why’d you only call me when you’re high

draco x reader

The phone rang once, but he didn’t even move a muscle.

It rang twice and somewhere in his dream he heard the far away tone, incrypted into the situation his unconscious was putting him into.

It rang three times, and he was a little more connected to reality.

By the fourth rang he recognized it was his phone. It was not in his dreams.

“Fuck” He muttered and turned around to grab the little piece of shit from the table.

The screen light hit him like a punch in the face. The first thing he recognized was the hour. A sixth rang. 3 and a half.

“Who the fuck…” His eyes fought to accustom to the light as he tried to read the name on his phone screen. “For God’s sake” He muttered now. By the time, the phone had rang like ten times and it stopped just in the moment.

Draco left out a sight and turned around to fall sleep again, leaving it on mute lying on his hand.

Vibration. It started to vibrate now.

He tried to ignore it. He didn’t need to turn off the call, just sleep. He never even heard it for all she knew.

“Goddamn it”

He picked it up.

Silence. Complete silence. He was not going to say a word. A breath could be heard coming from the other side of the line.

His eyes started to adjust to the darkness as he heard her breathing, realizing that coming back to sleep would be a little bit harder every second he stayed awake like this, just waiting for some rational words to come from someone completely irrational.

“Draco” She finally whispered.

“Yeah” He replied. “What is it?”

“What are you doing? Wait…” Draco left out another sight and passed a hand through his face “no come on…” She started to speak away from the phone, other voices were clearly being heard but he couldn’t understand what they were saying “fuck off… come on I told you to fuck off” She kept saying

“Y/N” His voice was raspy, exhausted.

“Sorry…” She said now, she was dragging her words as them were bricks.

“I was sleeping, what else would have I been doing”

Silence. Again.

He could just hang up, come back to sleep and preoccupy about his goddamn sleeping hours instead of whatever she wanted this time. It was just as easy as that, but the phone kept pressed in his ear as if a miracle were about to happen.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked, her voice sounded a little bit broken now.

“Where are you Y/N?”

“Pansy’s birthday” She replied. “Are you mad at me?”

“For being at Pansy’s birthday?”

By the time, Draco got up from the bed. Phone still in his ear, he directed to the kitchen to pick a glass of water as fighting the urge to stay awake had became an impossible mission.

“I know we are not getting back together I just…” She started mumbling. Draco sighed again while the water started to flow from the bottle into the glass. “I just wanted to know how you are doing”

“At 3 in the morning?” He asked and took a sip of water, lying by the kitchen counter.

“Draco…”

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high, Y/N?”

“I’m no…”

“Yeah and I’m not Draco fucking Malfoy, come on.” He left the glass of water in the table and headed to the sofa.

Silence again. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. What words to come out of her mouth, maybe something rational, maybe she would be able to say something this time that would make him wanna surrender, make him wanna pick up the car keys and drive.

“I just missed you.”

Now he was silence. Waiting for her to keep pushing, it was not enough compared to the shit she had pulled him through, but that was not enough either to make him want to leave.

“Can I come over?”

“No”

“Draco…”

“I said no” He repeated. And hell if it was hard for him to say.

“I’m sorry”

“For what exactly?”

“For calling” She said. “For waking you up, for keeping you up. Now and every time I did. I’m sorry.”

He sighed once again. His heart was racing in a way that was completely out of his control and he was making a big effort not to sob in the middle of his living room, cause if he did, he was doomed.

“Listen,” She spoke again. “You don’t have to forgive me, it’s fine. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry. I regret loosing you every day”

This time, a sob was heard, but at the other side of the line. Draco’s eyes were fixing in the window by the couch, wanting to throw the cellphone against the wall and break it to pieces.

“Go back to sleep, sorry I waked you. Goodbye” And by that, she hang up.

He stayed still for a few seconds until he abruptly drop the phone on the living table. His feet started to pace up and down in an anxious manner and his hands came back to his face. He was fighting with himself, trying so hard to think about the right thing to do but a voice in his mind was convincing him that it may not be that bad to challenge the odds.

He looked back out the window.

“Fuck it.”

Draco stood, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the car keys. Then he came back go his phone and texted that cursed number once again and for the last time.

“Send the address”

[rose24207]

Unseen tears

Summary: A mother struggles with emotional isolation and her distant family until her husband finally steps in to confront their children and begin mending their fractured bonds.

Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, angst, (fluff)

TW: Mafia

A/N: Amelia is 15 and Jacob is 13 and basically everyone is being a bitch… yeah anyways. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome (fr request something pls (I sound like a desperate ex))

Masterlist

The large estate was filled with the sound of clinking glasses and soft chatter. It was the kind of evening where everything seemed in its place—elegant, calm, and polished.

But beneath the surface of the pristine home, the tension was palpable. You had hoped it wouldn’t last, that the rift between you and the kids would heal over time, but you could feel it worsening.

Every day, it was becoming harder to put on a smile and pretend like everything was okay.

Amelia and Jacob, once so close to you, had become distant, angry. They were growing up, yes, but the way they acted now—so dismissive, so cold—was not the way you had imagined it. They were becoming more and more like strangers, and it hurt, deep down.

But what hurt even more was the silence that had come between you and Lando.

Despite everything going on, he hadn’t noticed. He couldn’t see it—the way you cried yourself to sleep every night, the constant knot in your stomach, the ache that lingered from the words they threw at you.

To him, the house was running smoothly, business as usual. He didn’t know the weight you carried every day.

"Mom, you're being ridiculous," Amelia had snapped at you earlier that afternoon. Her voice, normally filled with playful sarcasm, was now laced with anger. "Why do you always act like everything’s falling apart when it's not? Just stop being so overdramatic."

Jacob, standing next to her, didn’t even bother to glance your way. He was busy on his phone, his fingers tapping mindlessly on the screen. The look on his face—a mix of disinterest and frustration—cut deeper than any sharp words ever could.

Why wasn’t he even listening?

But you didn’t react.

You’d learned, over the past few weeks, that it was easier to keep the peace by saying nothing. Easier to take the insults and pretend they didn’t sting.

That night, after dinner, you went up to your room earlier than usual.

You didn’t want to argue anymore.

You didn’t want to face the cold glares and the harsh words.

The sound of the door closing behind you should have brought relief, but instead, it felt suffocating. The room, while large and filled with luxury, felt like a prison. Alone. Isolated.

Lando hadn’t even looked your way tonight, his focus on the kids and the staff, making sure everything was perfect, as usual.

He didn’t know you were fighting tears, again.

You sat on the bed, letting the weight of it all hit you. You’d tried so hard—always doing your best, always putting the kids first, making sure Lando’s life and work were smooth and effortless.

But it never seemed to be enough.

The tears fell freely now.

Quietly.

The sobs wracked your body, but you made no sound. There was no one here to comfort you. Lando was out of the house, probably in his office, and the kids were still running on their own schedules.

You were alone in your sorrow.

The next morning, you were still struggling to hide the redness of your eyes. The servants and staff walked around the house quietly, careful not to disturb the uneasy atmosphere that had taken root.

You’d spent the night awake, your heart still aching, and now you were just going through the motions.

When Lando came into the kitchen, he didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. His usual cocky grin was in place, and he kissed your cheek casually, as if everything was fine.

“Morning, love. How’s everything today?”

His words were like a slap to your face.

How could he ask that when everything felt like it was falling apart?

You forced a smile, wiping your eyes before you responded. “Good, just—just a little tired, that’s all.”

Lando didn’t notice the exhaustion in your voice. He didn’t see the faint tremble of your hands. His focus was on getting ready for the day.

"Right. Well, I’ll see you later then. I have some meetings and... we’ll catch up tonight?"

You nodded, though you knew the “catching up” would never happen.

It never did anymore.

As the day wore on, Amelia and Jacob continued to shut you out. Amelia was particularly icy, her words sharp and cruel.

“It’s not like you can do anything right, anyway,” she said during lunch, her tone dripping with contempt.

Jacob wasn’t much better.

Whenever you tried to talk to him, he ignored you or gave half-hearted answers, his mind preoccupied with his phone or whatever else he found more important.

You tried to speak to Lando about it that evening, but he was distracted again, caught up in his own world.

“Can we just sit and talk for a second?” you asked, your voice tired and strained.

Lando looked up, sensing the urgency in your tone. But instead of offering comfort, he simply sighed. “Not now, (Y/N). I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, and the kids—”

“They don’t listen to me anymore,” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this alone, Lando. I’m trying, but they’re pushing me away.”

Lando’s eyes softened for a moment, but he quickly brushed it off. “Don’t make it about me. I’m doing the best I can. The kids will grow out of this phase.”

But you knew better.

This wasn’t just a phase.

You had watched your children change, seen the way they grew colder, more resentful, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

You had tried everything.

Later that evening, it happened again.

Amelia and Jacob’s insults had been building all day, each one more hurtful than the last. But you had tried to stay calm, tried to understand that they were only struggling to find themselves.

But that night, when you were sitting in the family room, watching the kids laugh at something on TV, it hit you—the sudden realization that you were invisible.

It felt like they didn’t care at all.

That they didn’t want you to be a part of their lives anymore.

You stood up, silently, and slipped away to your room. The tears came fast again, spilling down your cheeks as you tried to stifle your sobs.

It wasn’t long before Lando came looking for you. He knocked gently on the door.

“(Y/N)?” he called, his voice softer than before. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t find the words to explain the ache that had been growing inside of you. Instead, you turned your back to the door, wiping your tears quickly.

The door creaked open. “(Y/N), look at me.”

Reluctantly, you turned around, meeting Lando’s gaze. His eyes widened at the sight of you—at the tear-streaked face and the redness of your eyes.

For the first time, he saw the pain you had been hiding.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, stepping into the room. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You couldn’t speak.

You felt too raw, too exposed.

But Lando, noticing the silent answer in your expression, immediately understood.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

He stormed out of the room, heading straight to the living room where the kids were lounging.

“Amelia. Jacob,” he said, his voice loud and commanding. The force of his presence made them both jump.

“What’s wrong with you two?” he snapped, his anger rising. “Why are you treating your mother like this?”

They exchanged nervous glances, clearly not prepared for this confrontation.

“Dad—” Amelia began, but Lando silenced her with a harsh gesture.

“No. Don’t speak. I’ve been blind to what’s been going on, but I’m not anymore. You two are spoiled, entitled and ungrateful. Your mother has done everything for this family, and yet you treat her like she’s invisible. Like she’s nothing.”

Jacob shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t speak.

Lando’s eyes flared with fury. “You will not disrespect her again. Do you hear me? I’ve been far too lenient with you both. From now on, you will both lose privileges. No more going out with friends until you understand the weight of what you’ve done. No more free reign in this house. No more devices for you. You want respect? You’ll earn it.”

Amelia opened her mouth to protest, but Lando shot her a warning look.

“Enough,” he said. “I don’t want to hear another word. Get upstairs. And don’t think I won’t follow through.”

Both kids stood up slowly, their faces a mixture of surprise and shame. As they left the room, Lando’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion.

He turned back to you. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I failed you.”

You shook your head, unable to hold back the tears anymore. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be the bad guy. I just wanted to help them.”

Lando pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his voice softer now. “I’ll make it right. I won’t let them treat you like this anymore.”

The days that followed were filled with apologies from the kids, awkward but heartfelt.

They knew they had messed up, and while it didn’t immediately heal the hurt, it was a start. Slowly, things began to improve in the household.

Lando kept a watchful eye on everything, making sure to include you in the family decisions more than ever before.

And at night, when the house was quiet and the kids had gone to sleep, Lando would sit with you, wrapping his arms around you, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

“I’m sorry,” he would whisper, his voice filled with guilt. “I should have seen it sooner. I should have protected you.”

You just rested your head on his chest, letting the comfort of his embrace soothe you. Things weren’t perfect, but for the first time in a long time, it felt like they could be.

And for the first time, Lando was truly listening.

Thank you for reading!

[delumineight]

i’m in tears 4000 reblogs… this is tumblr i would be so embarrassed of that i don’t even tell anyone in real life that i use this app. that aside im gonna skip that second paragraph because everything else is going to answer that. i’m assuming you’ve been here a while so i know changing your opinion won’t work too well, but you’re looking at this all so one dimensionally.

first off, that happens in year six. there is no “year seven.” and i am glad that you’re bringing up hermione’s faults because usually it’s all about ron! i just don’t think you’re familiar with Being In Love and to be honest i don’t care if hermione beats up on ron. he doesn’t either!!! am i supposed to hate women hit men? no. why would i? that’s praxis. when hermione jokes about it in the next book, he laughs. and if she did it then, he definitely would have deserved it if we’re going to be honest. ron probably likes her for any of the following and perhaps more: she is funny believe it or not, her vindication, the fact that she rides so hard for him and harry, how she cares about him, how she’s kind enough to want to kill some random chickens for them on the horcrux hunt, how insanely passionate she is about everything, and probably so much more that i don’t care to list or think of.

when harry’s away they could be doing anything. hogwarts is a big school. they canonically go to the library a few times, play wizards chess as you’ve mentioned, and do some homework/studying (much to ron’s dismay, i’ll admit). the book is told from harry’s perspective. we aren’t supposed to know what ron and hermione are doing 24/7 and that’s part of it all. this is where you use something called your imagination. they’re prefects together. which means that they spent hours walking around the school alone together. probably just chatting about whatever or even in silence, which can sometimes be so much more intimate than a chat.

ron’s opinion on house-elves doesn’t just change randomly throughout deathly hallows. the two elves in this book are insanely important to the plot, defeating voldemort, and the trio’s survival if you’ve forgot. kreature tells them about the locket and the story of how it originally was removed from the cave. dobby dies for them and saves hermione from being raped by greyback. the reason for the kiss is so big because it does in fact show that ron is growing up and changing, because they are children for the entire series minus a few months during deathly hallows.

and are you serious about this one? why didn’t they tell harry? dude, they didn’t tell each other for seven years and he was, i dunno, the center of a fucking war by the time they realised that they liked each other for real??? like, again, seriously?

they have “no development” in the epilogue because you’ve skipped 19 years and it’s like six pages long and not about them. it’s about harry’s gay son who is scared of being a slytherin, not ron or hermione or rose or hugo. they’re just little figurines in the background of harry’s small dilemma with his son that only have a few lines of small talk with their best friend/in law.

also, acting like ron and hermione’s relationship was out of no where just proves that you probably haven’t read the first two or three books in a while. some venture to say that seed was planted during the first book when ron sarcastically calls hermione “a lovely, sweet tempered girl” or the wingardium leviosa scene or when he beats her at wizard’s chess and it’s the first thing she’s ever lost at. jkr herself said once that they were meant to be a bit “love at first sight”-y (they’re 11 so i’m not 100% a fan of that) but if you can’t see it when he nearly jumps draco malfoy in chamber of secrets for wishing hermione dead or when he keeps looking sadly at her empty seat while she’s petrified you’re being purposefully dense.

if you’d like to try some more arguments please go ahead, but make them harder. this was entirely too easy and elementary. i could’ve given these same answers when i was thirteen.

“I used to ship Harry and Hermione together but that was back when I was 12 years old. Now, I’ve grown up and realized that Ron and Hermione make much more sense together and are good together” is a sure-fire way to tell me you didn’t “grow up”.

[buckiverse]

☆--- summary: you went out to a club, and it took an unexpected turn when you spotted athlete!sylus, the man you can't seem to avoid. Is it a coincidence, or is he just everywhere you go?

☆--- a/n: athlete!sylus is taking over my brain...

You shouldn’t be going out tonight, but you couldn’t say no when Tara invited you. It was the first time in forever that someone had pulled you away from your constant grind of training, case studies, and class. The local club near campus was always buzzing on a Friday night, and here you were, questioning why you had agreed to come instead of staying in to catch up on everything you had to do.

"I know it’s not really your thing, but try to have fun with me!" Tara shouted over the music, her excitement infectious.

You managed a smile. "Girl, of course! Let’s have fun."

The club was exactly what you expected—dark, slightly dingy, with bright strobing lights that made the sticky floors and faint smell of spilled drinks a little more bearable. People crowded around more than they danced, but it was still early, barely midnight.

Tara led the way to the bar, effortlessly weaving through the group of people. She ordered something colorful and sweet, and you opted for a shot to shake off the weird, anxious feeling you couldn’t pinpoint.

Maybe it was the week catching up to you—training, school, and the guy who had somehow taken up space in your mind.

Sylus.

You hadn’t even spoken to him beyond that moment—a quick, half-snarky exchange in the law building after you accidentally collided with him. But you couldn’t help how your eyes searched for him every time you walked in as if you might spot him again.

So, when you saw him across the room, leaning against a table with his usual calm, unbothered air, you nearly choked.

He stood out even here. It wasn’t just his height, though that was hard to miss. It was how he seemed completely at ease as if this crowded, chaotic club was just another room he’d decided to occupy for a while. Two men, maybe twins, surrounded him if their matching outfits were anything to go by.

"Okay, I’m heading to the dance floor! Join me when you’re done!" Tara’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. She winked before disappearing into the sea of people, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the view of Sylus.

You told yourself to look away, to mind your own business, but it was like some magnetic pull kept your gaze on him. What was he even doing here? He didn’t strike you as the guy who hit up clubs on the weekend.

Or maybe you didn’t know him at all.

The shot must’ve hit you harder than expected because, before you realized it, you were walking toward him. It wasn’t a decision you made—it was instinct or maybe a lapse in judgment.

By the time you reached him, Sylus had already noticed you. His sharp red eyes flicked to yours, a hint of recognition sparking in his expression.

"Hey," you said, your voice raised to be heard over the music, though your nerves threatened to betray you.

His smirk was instant, crooked, and a little too knowing. "Didn’t think I’d see you here," he said, his tone teasing.

You folded your arms, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why’s that?"

"Thought you’d be too busy watching where you’re going," he joked, the grin spreading just enough to make you want to wipe it off his face—and maybe laugh at the same time.

Your jaw dropped. "You’re seriously still on about that?"

He shrugged, leaning casually against the table. "It was a memorable first impression."

"Well, I don’t even know your name," you shot back, trying to regain some ground.

He tilted his head, clearly amused. "Sylus," he said smoothly. "But I was starting to think you’d never ask."

You rolled your eyes, trying not to let his charm get under your skin. "Y/N," you replied, crossing your arms. "So, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

Sylus chuckled, his gaze flicking briefly to the two men beside him. "Apparently, letting my teammates drag me out for ‘team bonding.’ Not sure this is what they meant."

His words caught you off guard, and you laughed before you could stop yourself. Standing there with him, bantering like this, was easier than you thought it’d be.

"Well," you said, your confidence returning, "don’t let me stop you from bonding."

He didn’t look away, his smirk softening into something almost unreadable. "Maybe I won’t."

The crowd seemed to blur around you for a moment, and you swore his eyes lingered on you just a second too long.

[whokilledsamara]

Male version of Mr. Slivar smut?

WATCHING {amab version}

a Mr. Silvair x amab!reader fic. {an: this is a COPY AND PASTE of my afab version. i only switched the genitalia around to amab.}

warnings || cuckcold, hair pulling, slight asphyxiation, monsterfucking, smut, amab genitalia, needles mention {not related to smut}

{an: just an amab version of my original work, which happened to be afab.}

a small huff releases you as Mr. Silvair injects the needle into your arm, before slowly pulling the tab as blood fills the syringe. "What do you even need this for anyways?" you ask, staring up at him. he pauses and tilts his head, seemingly confused. "..?" his gaze, or lack there of, set on your face. "Why, Doing?" you finally say, voice cracking at the foreign language that you still cant get the hang of. he thinks for a second, before shrugging. "Need, Blood. Experiments." he answers, quickly returning to your arm.

well that didnt answer your question..

allowing him to finish his administrations, seemingly pleased with your cooperation, he stands back up. Mr. Silvair makes his way into his experiment room, disappearing for a moment. Mr. Chopped was seated happily on the couch as always, beckoning you over with his chats. you sit down next to him, gently petting his head and murmuring 'cute' in their language. chatting conquers for a good while, even as you struggle to remember his language, but manage.

Mr. Silvair emerges from his lab, a fresh coat on. he beckons you closer with a finger, smiling softly when you obey. "Remove, Clothing" he states matter of fact. pausing, your face heats up with both confusion and embarrassment. "W-What.?" you ask quietly. he stares at you for a second before pointing at your lower abdomen. "Me touch. Experiment." he hums softly, your face heating up even further, eyes flicking from him to Mr. Chopped who was still seated with a confused expression. "Me can remove resident. Want?" he asks with a gentle smile as always. it takes a second for you to process his words, and before you can think, you find yourself shaking your head. "He can stay." you say with a flushed face. his smile grows wider, pleased at your response. a soft sigh escapes your lips as you gently reach for your clothes, slipping them off with ease.

"Desire, Carry! Desire, Carry!" Mr. Chopped exclaims with excitement. a low chuckle escapes Mr. Silvair's lips and with gentle hands he picks the head up, placing him closer to the both of you. "Cute!" he says happily, appraising your naked form. "Thank you.." you mutter, a small squeak leaving your lips as Mr. Silvair's hands suddenly grip your waist, walking you to the couch and gently pressing you down on it, chest up. his hand drags down your torso, in between the valley of your chest and down your stomach. a shiver runs down your spine when his hand gently parts your thighs, exposing your length to his gaze, dripping with pre-cum. the smile on his face curls up even more, and with an experimental touch, he runs a finger along your shaft. instinctively, your back arches off the couch, a hushed whine leaving your lips. "Interesting." he mutters under his breath. Mr. Chopped couldn't look any happier, excited noises leaving his mouth with every touch Mr. Silvair makes on your needy body. "Turn around." he says, gently patting your thigh with a smile. obediently, you position yourself on all fours, making your chest hit the couch and your hips in the air. a pleased hum leaves his chest, his gentle yet massive hand caressing your ass. excited giggles leave Mr. Chopped as expected, but hit a high pitch when Mr. Silvair lays an unexpected yet soft pat to your bottom. "Again!" the head says with a giddy smile. another chuckle leaves Mr. Silvair and he complies, asserting another slap, this time a bit harder.

a shuffling sound can be heard behind you, but a second before you can look back, you feel something poke your entrance. something big. he runs his member around your hole, rubbing his pre-cum enough and using it as a lube of some sort. Mr. Silvair's hands gently grasp you, spreading you for easier access. pain shoots through your core as he slowly presses himself inside of you, a low grunt leaving his lips in pleasure.

"Feels good." he reassures you, leaning down to press his chest against your bare back when he bottoms out. the cold air of the room you made your senses heighten, but what made it all the more was his cold hands gripping your hips as he laid down shallow thrusts. when he felt your hips push back, he took it as a sign to go faster, quickly picking up the pace with his thrusts. whines and moans left your lips, Mr. Chopped's eyes following your every movement.

"Faster?" Mr. Silvair questions, his hand reaching around to grab the front of your neck, pulling you up some. tears fall down your face as you nod, blood staining your lip from biting so hard. his hand moves from your neck to your chin, turning your face to the side in a quick kiss, rough due to his intense thrusts. "S-Silvair- fuck- i cant take.. hic.. it-" and while he didnt quite understand your words, he didnt take it as a bad sign. his thrusts only quickened, his hips desperately slapping against your ass.

"Me want see!" Mr. Chopped whines, pouting at his lack of view, mainly only seeing Mr. Silvair's back. "mmmmghh." you groan against the couch cushion, yelping at the sudden change of position when Mr. Silvair flips you onto your back. he slips back in with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder and pressing you down with his hips. "a-ahh-mmmm." you whine, the pathetic moans leaving your lips seemingly spurring Silvair on. his hand travels down and quickly strokes your member, your hands suddenly shooting out to grab his shoulders, one managing to slip into his hair and tug. he lets out a low groan, his face turning into one of pure pleasure. his hand stokes faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts in effort to make you cum before he does. with another thrust and a magical jerk of his hand, your back arches as far as possible, your orgasm ripping through you like fireworks. "fuuuuccckk.." a long curse leaves your lips as your cum hits his lower toros and not long after yours, Silvair's orgasm follows. hot spurts of cum fill you, and in the background you both can hear Mr. Chopped giggling. you wince as Mr. Silvair pulls his length out, his previous cum dripping out of your well spent hole. he smiles gently down at you, quickly making his way to clean you up. once finished, his hand gently caresses your head. "Again! Again!" Mr. Chopped exclaims, a big smile on his face. both you and Mr. Silvair laugh softly, your tired expression speaking for you. he gently pats your thigh, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

"Later."

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[starfxkrinc]

https://www.tumblr.com/starfxkrinc/766887946707206144/remember-the-fic-of-jj-clicker-training-you-and

discord mod JJ and Kitty PLEASE 🙏🥲

ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩ᯓᡣ𐭩

first it was the collar, wrapped tight around your neck so jj could hear you prowling around the house. but he decided he liked it, there was something satisfying about everyones reactions when he showed the server. watching the videos of you bent over the couch with the little bell jingling, all congratulating him for finally 'leashing that pussy'.

still, jj wanted to push you further. to see how far he could make your mind sink into its more base instincts.

once jj got the clicker it was easy. a click, then a kiss. a click, then a 'good girl', a click, then you could cum. before long the sound of the clicker had your eyes fluttering shut with your heart thudding and your lips pouted for a kiss. so when he started punctuating with commands you were following his instructions without much if a second thought. it felt good to have this much power, you were always his favorite toy but this was different.

"down." the soft click made you whimper, pressing your face against the floor but apparently it wasn't enough, because jj was now stepping on you, being sure to push between your shoulder blades so your back would arch, "all the way, good girl."

another click. by now you were shaking and so wet it was dripping a puddle onto the floor.

"you're perfect y'know that?" jj abandons his foot on your back, unbeknownst to you a smile tugs at his lips at the sight of his dirty foot print on you, "everybody thinks you're a bitch, they don't know you like i do."

with a soft kick he hits you right on your sticky cunt, causing a sharp whine to exist your lips, "fuck that hurts."

he scoffs, "thought i told you good kittens don't talk." he kicks you again, harder this time so you fall forward, body prone as he steps on your pussy, smeared with dirt and arousal as you try to squirm away.

"stay still."

click. you stop, and he lets off, sinking to his knees and keeping them locked by your hips.

"you ain't so bad, not with me anyways." jj slips into you, nice and slow while he keeps you pinned with his body weight, "you know who you belong to."

he's so close, his body fitting perfectly with yours as he covers you completely. when he brings his two fingers to circle your lips you're drooling already, anticipating that soft sharp sound.

"open." click.

you do as he says, eyes fluttering shut as the familiar taste of his fingers spread across your tongue. it's nothing for you to close your lips around him, sucking softly as he starts to fuck into you, dropping his hips hard and fast like he's feeding you his dick. when he gets you like this it's like you're stuffed with how he notches against your cervix like he's trying to gut you.

jj's teeth graze the back of your neck and you tense, even as he tries to placate you with harsh sucks and kisses you know he can't stay too nice for long, because he clamps his teeth on the back of your neck, jaw locked like a pitbull as if he's trying to rip your spine out, "ffuckfuckfuck."

shaking, you try your best to fuck back against him, but he's too strong, too heavy. able to keep you pinned and open with the force of his hips driving his cock out of your squelching hole. forcing your neck back so he can kiss and lick the tears off your cheeks. you're so overstimulated you're dizzy--babbling and crying as you try not to cum.

you can't yet. he didn't press the button.

"almost, almost, just...fuck." he lets you go, pressing your head to the ground with one hand and keeping the other splayed against your lower back with the other, fucking into you so hard it hurts. your stomachs churning like you're going to be sick but you can't move.

"just fucking take it. fuckin bitch, just take it." you can barely hear him over your sobs, your whole body throbs like a bruise from how he's hurting you, but your clits pulsing from it all. when he cums you could scream, because you're so sure he's just gonna leave you there twitching and throbbing for his dick, his fingers, something.

but he doesn't. thank god he doesn't because he hauls your hips up to his mouth, delving deep to lick the cum and pusddy juice from your hole but you still hold back.

until you here it.

click

the tremble starts from your toes and crawls its way up your spine like a livewire. your mouth drops open but you can't let out more than a soft wheeze as you cum, soaking his mouth and chin to the point he's gasping. when your done he drops you, haphazardly sticking a pillow under your hips once he's flipped you over, resting his head on your trembling stomach.

"hey, you good?" jj waves his fingers in front of your face, doing his best to pull you from your haze but you're too deep, not even replying with words, just flicking your tongue out in an attempt to get them in your mouth. luckily he obliges, letting you suck on his thumb as you try to ground yourself.

if just a clicker got you like this, what could a shock collar do.

[itacats]

Butcher Shop Connection

FT: Simon x gn!reader

Warnings: DV, abuse, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

SUM: The fragile joy of connection with Simon is quickly overshadowed by the suffocating weight of home. Confronted by Tom’s cruelty, you struggle to protect yourself, both physically and emotionally, while clinging to the small glimmers of kindness Simon offers. In a world defined by shadows, hope flickers like a hesitant flame, but it’s a light you’re not ready to embrace—yet.

A/N: Ah, the emotional whiplash chapter. One moment, you’re swooning over rolled-up sleeves and car repairs, and the next, you’re wading through the muck of heartbreak and resilience. Hang tight; the rollercoaster isn’t over yet. 🎢

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 - Cracks in the Foundation

The moment you step through the front door, the warmth and joy from your encounter with Simon evaporate like dew under the harsh light of the morning sun. The house is quiet, but not in a comforting way—it’s the kind of silence that makes your chest tighten and your senses sharpen. The faint creak of the floor beneath your shoes feels deafening as you step into the kitchen.

Tom is there, leaning against the counter, arms crossed tightly over his chest. The shadows from the dim overhead light stretch across his face, making his expression even harder, more menacing. His eyes lock onto yours immediately, sharp and unrelenting. You can feel the judgment radiating from him, an oppressive weight settling on your shoulders.

"You’re late," he growls, his voice low and heavy, each syllable dripping with accusation.

Your heart races as you glance at the clock on the wall. It’s not that late—barely past eight—but you know it doesn’t matter. Tom’s moods don’t follow logic or reason; they’re a storm that sweeps in, indifferent to your explanations or pleas.

"I... I got stuck at the store," you begin, your voice trembling slightly. You hate how small it sounds, but before you can finish, he cuts you off.

"Out with someone else, are you?" he snaps, his voice rising. His face twists, his features contorted into something unrecognizable. "Who is it?"

The questions come at you like a barrage, cold and sharp, each one landing with a sting from his fists. You try to answer, to explain, but the words stick in your throat. Your mind flashes back to Simon—his gentle smile, the warmth in his eyes—and for a split second, you imagine what it would be like to tell Tom the truth. But you know better.

"Tom, please," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was just the car—"

"Don’t lie to me!" he shouts, slamming his hand down on the counter. The sound echoes through the room, and you flinch instinctively, your body betraying the fear you try so hard to conceal.

"I’m not lying," you say, your voice breaking. "Please, just—"

"What? Do you want kindness?" Tom interrupts, his lips curling into a cruel sneer. "You know kindness never looked good on me."

His words hit like a blow, the same venomous refrain you’ve heard countless times before. The bitterness in his tone is more cutting than the words themselves, a reminder of how far you are from the kindness you once hoped for in your life.

That night, you curl up on the couch, your knees drawn tightly to your chest. Silent tears trace cold paths down your cheeks as you replay the argument in your mind, each word cutting deeper than the last, the memory of his hands staining your skin in ugly hues. The house feels colder than ever, the darkness pressing in on you from every corner.

When morning comes, you force yourself to your feet, your body moving on autopilot. You reach for the makeup on the bathroom counter, your hands trembling slightly as you smooth the heavy foundation over the forming bruises on your cheek. It feels like a mask, a way to conceal not just the physical marks but the emotional scars that run much deeper. The person in the mirror doesn’t look like you anymore.

You step into the butcher shop later that day, the bell’s cheerful chime feeling oddly out of place against the weight in your chest. You paste on a smile, the same practiced expression you’ve perfected over time, and make your way to the counter.

Simon is there, his eyes lighting up as he spots you. But the excitement in his gaze dims slightly as he takes in your stiff posture, the way you shift uncomfortably as you dig into your bag for your wallet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle and full of concern. The question is simple, but the way he asks it feels different—like he truly wants to know, like he’s ready to hear whatever you have to say.

For a moment, you hesitate. The warmth in Simon’s voice feels like a balm against the chill that’s settled deep in your bones, and you’re tempted—so tempted—to tell him the truth. To let someone else carry the weight for a little while.

But then the walls go up, as they always do. You smile, the expression tight and forced, and shake your head. "I’m fine," you say, the words hollow even to your own ears.

Simon doesn’t press, but the concern in his eyes doesn’t fade. If anything, it deepens, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might not let the matter drop. There’s something about him—his quiet determination, the steady strength you’ve seen in the way he carries himself—that makes you wonder if he could be the one to finally break through your defenses.

But you can’t let him. Not now. Not yet.

As you leave the shop, you glance back over your shoulder. Simon is still watching you, his gaze steady and unwavering. In that brief moment, you allow yourself to imagine a life where kindness isn’t just a fleeting encounter but a constant presence. Where the warmth of someone like Simon could replace the cold reality of your world.

"Maybe one day," you think, the words both a hope and a prayer. For now, you carry the thought of Simon with you, a small light in the darkness that has become your reality.

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

Thank you to @ghostlythots for the extra tags that I should have added!

[buddies-bitch]

Dating Evan Buckley Headcannons💕

Mostly SFW but a couple of NSFW

SFW

He gets jump-scared easily so you love to scare him

Like those compilations of people constantly scaring their spouses is totally something you would do

Whether that be yelling when he comes around a corner or hiding underneath the bed to grab his ankle. And it never fails to make you laugh until you pee

He’s so dramatic it’s insane

Like flopping onto every available surface like a faintly Victorian woman with that cute little pout of his

Puppy dog eyes GALORE

He will try and guilt you into things (like wanting to do something for you without your involvement so you can relax) with those goddamn eyes and fuck if it doesn’t work every. single. time.

He loves having you in the kitchen while he’s cooking/baking-as long as you’re not in his way

Luckily for him you’re much more content to just sit on the counter and watch him cook. Inbetween tasks dragging him between your legs for a quick smooch

He gets you tattoo pens so you can straddle his waist while he lays down and draw him new tattoos, usually incorporating his lightning scars-kissing all the while

He loves looking up at your focussed face and loves the feeling of being beneath you. He also loves the feel of your hands on him no matter what you're doing. 3/4 of the time this leads to sex

Occasionally you’ll do his makeup (you’ll always do his skincare) and you always make sure to accentuate his birthmark

The first time you did, all you had was a glittery pink and when you showed him, he hugged you and cried-no one had ever seen him before the way you did

You love finding new nicknames to call him or ways to hit on him that make him blush and stutter

You greeted him one time with a small “hi gorgeous” and he stuttered so bad he just walked away

“Gorgeous”, “baby boy”, “sweet boy”, “stunning”, “sweetheart/ness”, “blue eyed wonder”, “firehose”, “pumpkin”, “honey” literally anything and everything, progressively getting more wild at times just to make him laugh and blush

Buck absolutely has some kind of slutty thigh tattoo (I have nothing else to add to this but I feel like I should share)

He finds it strangely endearing at the amount of time/effort you put into doing physical therapy for his leg, even years after the accident

Plus, always making sure to put sunscreen on him as well as ointment for his scars because you know he’ll forget

Doing hair masks and getting new products for him to protect/define his curls

He's such a cuddle bug it can get annoying on hotter nights but you love him too much to move him

He doesn't mind being big spoon or little spoon but most of the time he pretty much just lays on top of you, having thrown himself over you haphazardly as if to protect you in his sleep

He loves it when he reads to you because you'll play with his hair till you fall asleep, AND he gets to yap to his favorite person.

Because he has adhd, when he reads to you he’ll get distracted and go off topic at some point and just winds up becoming a personal podcast

NSFW

PRAISE KINK

He’s such a vocal bitch

Moaning and groaning constantly, he loves to let you hear him

When drawing on him turns into sex, he LOVES to mark your body with hickeys the way you marked his with ink

He is such a muncher

Like actually drowning himself in your cunt ‘cause he refuses to come up before you come til you physically can't anymore

He likes to tease you until you're begging him to fuck you

He LOVES when you scratch your nails through his hair, especially when you pull it harder the closer you get to coming

He takes SO much pride in the scratch marks up and down his back

^hickeys too, much to your embarrassment sometimes

Anytime you wear lingerie, it gets torn to shreds. But its ok because Buck will happily buy you a new pair so long as he gets to do it again

Buck is absolutely a power bottom. He loves to be in charge but he also loves you on top of him

[kristannafever]

Big Sky Ranch

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: M WC: 1829

In the foothills off of the Rocky Mountains, resides a generational Ranch known to all in the area. Kristoff, a humble hand on that ranch, works hard and enjoys his simple existence. It isn't until a new woman starts at the diner that be begins to acknowledge his loneliness and plans to ask her on a date. When his plans are foiled by a rival group of men, it sets events into motion that plunge Anna and Kristoff into getting to know each other through some very unexpected situations and their relationship blossoms as their lives begin to change.

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

A/N: This had been my passion project for over a year, and is the most self-indulgent thing I have ever written. It is inspired by the ranch setting of Yellowstone and the rural area in which I live.

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

Anna had only been working as a waitress at the diner for a week, and she was quickly learning what the biggest perk of the job was. 

It was the cowboys.

She’d moved to the small town only a month prior, desperate to get as far away from the city where her sleazy ex-fiancé was.  It was the fresh start she needed after wallowing about that cheating asshole for months.  Truly dark times they had been.

After finding a basement suite to rent since she wasn’t sure how long she would be there before she moved on again, she got the job at the diner, and was truly starting to enjoy life again.  And that was in large part due to the clientele. 

The town was surrounded by ranchlands.  Large farms spread out in all directions, and the roads were ruled by pick-up trucks and farm equipment.  Many times, Anna had gone for a drive to clear her head and she’d come upon some large tractor-thing, and she’d have to squeeze around the slow-moving vehicle in the wrong lane, or wait until it pulled into a pasture.  Even so, she never minded too much, because she enjoyed the drives and admiring the lovely scenery against the backdrop of the Rocky Mountains.

And every day, rain or shine, groups of men came in for breakfast or lunch.  Most of them in the full cowboy outfit; cowboy boots, jeans, roper or plaid shirts, and cowboy hats.  And no matter the size or shape of them, they were all ruggedly handsome in their own ways.

And decent!  Anna had never met so many decent men.  They were all extremely polite and respectful.  They held doors and said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and ‘ma’am’, and they always tipped generously even if they only had a cup of coffee and a piece of pie. 

Anna truly did love her job, even if was a lot harder work than sitting behind a desk all day like she’d been doing when she worked at that insurance company with her ex. 

That asshole could rot in hell.

Now Anna had her eyes open for a cowboy.  A lot of them didn’t wear any wedding rings, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t married.  She’d asked one of the other waitresses and was told they don’t wear them for safety, not wanting them to get caught in ropes or machinery.  And the ones that did wear them, wore those new rubber ones that could break if they got caught in something.   It made perfect sense to Anna.  Although it certainly made it harder to tell who was and wasn’t attached. 

Which was why for the time being she just had her eyes open.  She never outwardly hit on any of them for fear of hitting on a taken man.  She just hoped that one day, one of them might just ask her out.  And until then, she would more than happily take in all the eye candy.

*****

Kristoff yawned as he got out of his truck and stretched out his tired back.  Him and Sven got up extra early and treated themselves to breakfast whenever they could, and right now they had a short break before calving season when their days were a little less long.

The air was still chilly with the last of winter’s tenuous hold, and their breath came out in white vapors as they walked through the parking lot.  At least the snow was mostly all gone, and while that meant that him and Sven’s work load was going to ramp up, it was hard to argue with the sun shining bright after six brutally long months of snow-covered ground.

As soon as they stepped into the diner, Sven gave him a nudge with his elbow.

“New girl,” he said under his breath, and flicked his head in her direction as they walked to a booth along the front windows. 

Kristoff glanced her direction then turned to Sven and gave him a hard stare.  Ever since he got engaged, Sven had been trying mercilessly to set Kristoff up with someone and it was starting to get on his nerves.  The girl was really cute, sure, he just wasn’t interested.  He was too damn set in his ways to be interested.

They sat in their favourite booth, took off their cowboy hats, and set them on the seat beside themselves.  Kristoff ran a hand through his hair a few times, shaking out the hat line, and the new waitress came over straight away and set menus on the table. 

“Morning, gentlemen.”  She smiled brightly.  “What can I start you out with today?”

“Coffee, black, and a water,” Kristoff said.

“Same here,” Sven said, “please.”

“Coming right up.”  She gave them another bright smile and walked away. 

“City girl,” Sven mused.

“Yup.”  He’d heard her accent too.

“She don’t have a ring.”

“Sven-”

“Come on, man.  You livin’ like that ain’t healthy.  All alone in that cabin.  You should move back to one of the main houses.”

“You know I don’t like being around people too much.”

“You like being around me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the one exception and you know that too.”

“You could make another exception,” Sven flicked his head to the counter where she was pouring them coffee, “for her.”

“If you don’t cut this out, I’m gonna strap you to that nasty old bull out in the east pastures.”

“Ole’ Bruce?”  Sven laughed.  “That bull don’t got any fight left in him.”

“I beg to differ,” Kristoff stated.  It was only a month ago that mean old brute had him scrambling for the fences when he charged Kristoff.  And of course, no one had been around to see it and they all told him he was making shit up.  That bull had it out for him, Kristoff knew it.

The waitress came back with the drinks and they ordered their usual; the cowboy breakfast.  It came with two eggs, three strips of bacon, a pair of sausages, hash browns, beans and two slices of toast.  Both him and Sven would eat it all and be starving by noon. 

They ate quickly and Kristoff pulled his wallet out of his back pocket since it was his turn to pay.  The waitress came back with the bill and a card machine which Kristoff waived off because he always paid with cash.  He gave her a pretty nice tip since she’d kept their water and coffee cups full.  He hated it when he was halfway through his meal and he had nothing to drink because the cups weren’t topped off. 

On the way out, when Sven wasn’t looking, Kristoff glanced in the waitress’s direction.  She had her copper hair in braids, and actually, was very attractive.  He always had been a sucker for freckles.  If he was interested in a relationship, he might ask her out, but he was more than content not having to deal with what came in having that sort of thing.

*****

Anna watched the pair of cowboy’s head back to their big dually in the parking lot.  They’d been the best-looking ones yet.  Especially that blond with the big nose and the pretty brown eyes.  He was very handsome.  And built!  The guy’s biceps were giving that roper shirt a serious quality control test.  She felt a little flustered to suddenly think about what being with a man like that would be like.  Her ex had been on the skinnier side and nowhere near as tall.  Not to mention never really left her satisfied.  She had a feeling that the handsome blond cowboy sure wouldn’t disappoint. 

He didn’t really say much, he left her a very nice tip, and he did say thank you when she dropped off their breakfast, even if he didn’t say please when he ordered it.  Anna hoped she’d see him again soon and found herself hoping that he was single and looking.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Sven suggested breakfast again the next morning and Kristoff damn well knew why.  Still, it was hard to argue against a big brekky that he didn’t have to make himself.   They drove to the diner and sure enough, the attractive waitress was working.

They sat in the same booth and she came over a moment later with coffees and waters.  It impressed him a little that they didn’t have to order, even if was presumptuous of her. 

“Same as yesterday, gentlemen?” she asked, after she’d set their drinks on the table.

“You bet,” Sven answered.

“And are we sticking with sunny-side up eggs and rye toast?”  Both men nodded.  “Perfect.  I’ll have that right out to you.”

Kristoff found himself watching her walk away.  She sure had a nice smile.  Very friendly.  Good for getting better tips for sure.   And those eyes were something else.

“You should ask her out,” Sven persisted in a hushed voice.

He turned to Sven and scowled.  “No.”

“Why not?”

Kristoff shrugged and couldn’t really come up with a good answer. 

Sven heaved a big sigh.  “You know what, I give up.  You’re hopeless.”

Kristoff sneered.  “Like you pointed out, she’s a city girl.  Only one way a relationship with her is gonna end up, and that’s me being dumped after a week.”

“Maybe if you would just try-”

“That’s enough,” he said, very serious.  “I’m not in the mood.”

Sven scoffed.  “Fine, whatever.”

Kristoff looked down at his hands and started to dig some dirt out from under his thumbnail.  Sven had no idea what he was talking about.  Kristoff had always tried.  He did his best, even though he was pretty damn clueless about romance.  Which seemed to be why none of the ladies he’d gone out with stuck around long.  He did try, and it was never enough.  It had left him jaded about dating. 

Their meals came out quickly and they ate even quicker to get a head start on their day.  It was going to be another long one, meaning come Friday night, both of them would be more than eager to blow off some steam at the saloon. 

*****

Anna gathered up the tip the other cowboy had left on the table.  It was still very decent even if he wasn’t as generous as the blond.  Neither of the men seemed like they were looking for a date, so Anna gave up on thinking that either of them were single.  Like most of them, they were probably taken, leaving Anna wondered what she had to do to bag herself a cowboy.

Another waitress had been talking about going to a saloon by the highway at the edge of town on Friday evening for some dancing and asked Anna if she wanted to tag along too.  She accepted, giddy at the chance that perhaps she might have her opportunity there to get herself a date, even if she was warned that the crowd could get pretty rowdy. 

--

Next Chapter

[cozzzynook]

Ultra Magnus seems to be just a little off all shift. When Rodimus and Megatron try to ask him about it, he completely blows over it, insisting he's fine even though he sounds strained and feels warm just standing next to. Rodimus takes it in stride, recognizing Magnus was in some kind of mood and clearly didn't want to be pushed, but Megatron took it more personally. Ever since the two hooked up one night, Minimus seemed to be making himself smaller around Megatron. He wasn't exactly ignoring him, but he just seemed so reserved compared to the mech who was working so hard at coming out of his shell.

Megatron tried to talk about it with Minimus, but the conversations died out when Minimus would start to look stressed. Megatron never knew what he was saying to push Minimus away, but clearly he was doing something wrong. When one day he came to the deck and saw Ultra Magnus with Rodimus instead of Minimus, he felt even worse, like he truly ruined something with Minimus. The minibot hadn't shown his true self in so many cycles, seemingly reverting back to wearing the Magnus armor full time, which made something in Megatron's spark hurt deeply.

The shift was quiet, or about as quiet as any activity with Rodimus could be, and felt tense. Magnus was fidgety and his venting sounded terribly harsh, and Megatron couldn't push him anymore without making things worse. It was a horribly uncomfortable several hours, when out of nowhere, Ultra Magnus made a choked noise. He immediately excused himself from duty and sped off down the hall, surprising everyone there to see him go. Magnus never used his shift breaks, what was so bad it made him leave his post?

Megatron had to know. He left Rodimus in charge despite the co-captain demanding to go with him, but someone had to stay on deck while the other captain and second in command were occupied. Megatron took off after Magnus, noticing with worry that the commander really had left fast. He had already lost sight of Magnus and was hitting dead ends while he tore through the halls like a mad mech. He was running towards the med bay in his search and finally saw Ultra Magnus. He tried to grab the commander, and nearly jumped when his arm clattered onto the ground when Megatron held it. This was going to make it even harder if Minimus had left the armor, there had to be something awful happening for him to just leave the suit standing around like scrap metal.

Megatron collected his thoughts, Minimus had to be nearby. He was snapped back to reality when he heard a quiet cry from a supply closet just further down the hallway. Megatron ripped the door open, disregarding the damages. He could hardly take a step into the cramped room, but he didn't need to get any closer. He looked down, and saw the mech he was looking for.

Minimus was laid on the floor, looking up at Megatron with real fear in his optics. It made Megatron's spark ache, but he couldn't focus on the hurt at that moment when there was something more important. It was hard to see at first in the dark room, but it was now clear Minimus was cradling a tiny sparkling in his arms. The little thing was held to his pouches, but it was fussing about so badly. It made a static laced cry, just like he heard earlier, and it was already enough to make Megatron's sire protocols come alive. He got to his knees to be closer to Minimus' level and looked closer at the sparkling. It was a deep green with shining silver accents, and unmistakably, the bitty had helm panels just like Megatron did under his helmet.

"I'm so sorry," Minimus said quickly, holding his little one closer as he tried to sit up. He winced at the motion, making Megatron reach out to hold the minibot down gently. "I-I didn't know how to tell you, I am so sorry captain."

Megatron felt so lost, his world had just changed in seconds. He needed more answers than Minimus was giving. "Tell me what Minimus? Because it seems there's many things I should know about here that I don't."

It took some time and some tears for Minimus to get the whole truth out. The two had been trying to court each other for some time before their spontaneous hook up when spirits were high after a harsh battle deep in space. The day after they interfaced is when things started going south. Minimus felt ashamed, not because of anything Megatron did, but for throwing himself at the big mech like overeager shareware. Their courting was going slow, and Minimus was happy with taking his time to get closer to Megatron until his array got the better of him. He shied away from Megatron after that, not wanting to see what he was sure to be disappointment in his optics when he looked at Minimus. He feared he rushed and spoiled what they were building together, so it seemed the only option for him was to build back more distance. Then later on during his annual medical exam he found out he was sparked.

He knew it was Megatron's from their night together, and he was completely humiliated. Not only did he wreck the relationship he had been chasing, but now he was carrying for a mech who probably didn't want him anymore after making such a fool of himself. The responsible thing would have been to snuff the spark out, but Minimus couldn't bring himself to do it. He felt selfish and terrible, but he just couldn't get rid of his sparkling. He could only pray to primus that the bitty took after him and he could avoid the conversation of who the sire was, but that was hardly a plan. Minimus was fighting with himself every day, and it was only worsened when Megatron would try to ask him why he seemed so distracted. He should have told him about the sparkling, but he could never get the nerve to do it. He couldn't tell Megatron and make him stay out of pity, and his poor spark couldn't handle the idea of Megatron making him get rid of the growing spark that circled his own.

Before he knew it, Minimus' frame was showing when the sparkling dropped, and he knew everything would come out when someone asked him about it. That's when Ultra Magnus had become his regular frame again, making Minimus feel even worse about himself. He resented the armor, he was so ashamed, and he was mad at himself for getting into the mess in the first place, but he was never upset with his bitty, the sweet thing was innocent in Minimus' horrible web of lies.

All of that led to the current moment, where Minimus didn't make it to the medbay and had to deliver his sparkling in a closet to hide from anyone. Megatron felt so many mixed emotions, he was so wildly frustrated and upset Minimus hid everything the way he did. It made Megatron feel guilty that he made Minimus feel pressured enough to hide it in the first place, when he should have communicated clearly after that night. The two were definitely going to need to schedule an appointment with Rung, but that was a far off plan in Megatron's processor when his offspring was crying right in front of him. He reached for the sparkling, brushing one of the tall panels on the bitty's helm. They looked at their sire with big red eyes and felt their spark call to Megatron. He took the little one from Minimus and held them like they were the most precious thing in the galaxy. Minimus was backed up against the wall, watching the two interact. His field was a difficult read, a sour mix of sadness, love, joy, and worry. He already loved his creation with his whole spark, he was just so sorry he was already doing so wrong by them.

Megatron shifted how he held his sparkling and reached for Minimus. He held the minibot's servo and met his eyes, not looking disgusted with him or disappointed like Minimus feared. "I promise you Minimus, no matter if you still want me anymore as a partner, I will always be here for you and our treasure."

It was the first smile Megatron had drawn from Minimus in so long, it made him feel light again. Minimus shifted to lean on Megatron for support, watching their sparkling finally settle down and relax once they had their sire. "If you could ever forgive me for my deception, than of course I want you Megatron."

The tension that had been so thick between the two of them since the ordeal started vanished so quickly. Minimus took back his dear little spark, allowing Megatron to pick the two of them up much easier. The first course of action was actually going to the medbay. Minimus may have had an easy delivery but Megatron refused to let him go on without an exam, not even mentioning their little one needed to be looked over. At the medbay while the sparkling was being cared for, the two could talk further about their real feelings and plans for the future, for their relationship and for their family. At least conjunxing could go on smoothly when the time was right, Minimus had already given Megatron the greatest gift he could have asked for without even knowing.

Whoever you are, thank you for sharing this wonderful story & fic!

Oh my gosh i love it!!!