#it’s always the same size. which is so small it’s almost falling apart

[t4tozier]

i think jace deserves to give porter a spa day. i specifically don’t mean that porter deserves a spa day but i think it would make jace feel better about the fact that porter uses 3 in 1 shampoo

[gukcnt]

TEDDY & SECRETS ⭒ JJK

in which you discover your shy coworker jungkook, has been leaving teddy bears and plushies with questionable notes on your doorstep to confess his secret crush for you

pairing — secret admirer!jungkook x coworker!femreader

genre — workplace au, friends to lovers, mystery elements, slice of life, romantic comedy, lots of fluff

warnings/tags — shy!jungkook, cozy vibes, teddy bear obession, slowburn, confrontation, adorable gestures, romantic notes, nervous confession, stalker vibes turned sweet, happy ending, no warnings because it's literally the cutest shit bfr

wc — 1.1k

a/n — I decided to write this short oneshot quickly because I was craving some fluff, and I haven’t had the urge to write in weeks TT but I hope y'all love this one! <3

m. list

────🧸────

You’ve always adored teddy bears ever since you were a kid.

Their soft squishy forms always brought you comfort in a way that you couldn’t deny.

They were like your silent friends.

A safe place.

Your apartment was the proof of this obsession—lined with bears and plushies of every size, from a mini one to a massive teddy that takes up half your couch.

At work, you’ve mentioned it during a random talk, gushing about a new bear arrival that you’ve seen at the market.

Apparently someone was listening.

For the past two weeks a new teddy bear has appeared at your doorstep every morning.

Each one unique.

Fluffy pastel ones, simple brown ones, and now you had bears of all unique colors and designs.

The one that stuck out the most

Was the pink polka dotted teddy with a bow tie.

And for some reason it was exactly the one you’ve been eyeing in the market, which confirms that it was someone from your work.

Each teddy came with a note tucked into their paws.

The handwriting was shaky and uneven, almost like the writer's hands trembled while writing.

“You light up my dark” — the first one said.

“I’m closer than you think” — another one.

The one you received yesterday felt like a soft plea.

Like the person sending these was facing a desperation, a need.

“Please notice me”

At first you thought it was a silly prank, maybe a friend teasing you for your love for plushies.

But all your friends denied it and your neighbors—an old couple—obviously weren’t the type to do such things.

The mystery was charming.

A little creepy, yes.

But each bear was tugging at your heart at the same time.

Endearing in some way but making you curious.

Tonight, you're done wondering.

You set an alarm for 3 am, determined to catch the culprit.

You stand by the window, coffee in hand as your eyes scan the quiet street.

The moonlight was the only source of light, your heart racing with anticipation.

After a few minutes or so you see a hooded figure approaching your door with careful steps, and they hold a small teddy bear.

A brown choco colored one with a tiny red bow.

He kneels to place it on your doorstep.

You don’t hesitate and rush to your door, flinging it open.

“Hey!” you shout.

The figure stumbles, and before you could react, he starts running away but you’re quicker, not caring about your bare feet.

You grab hold of his sleeve.

“Who are you? why are you doing this?”

The hood falls, revealing a familiar face—jeon jungkook, your quiet coworker with a shy smile and doe eyes that always seem to find you.

His cheeks are flushed, breaths shaky and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Almost like he got caught stealing

“jungkook?” you gasp.

“You’re the teddy bear guy?”

He cringes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh… yeah, I—I’m sorry,” he stutters.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

You release his sleeve, stepping back as you cross your arms over your chest.

“What’s with these bears?”

jungkook fidgets, staring at his sneakers like they hold his answers.

“You mentioned it at work. A lot, actually and I thought you’d like them, so I wanted to do something special—“

“But I couldn’t just… approach you.”

Your mind flashes to those coffee break chats and your rants about teddies.

You imagine he’d listened sitting somewhere far.

Nodding quietly, his shy grin hiding how much your words had taken to his heart, valuing your wishes like they were the most precious thing.

“Why didn’t you just… talk to me?” you ask

“I tried talking, I mean. But every time I got near you… I—I don’t know.”

“You’re so…”

He trails off, then mumbles quietly.

“You’re you. And I’m just me.”

Your heart flutters strangely.

jungkook’s always been sweet at work—bringing you coffee when you’re too busy to look after yourself.

Laughing at your dumb jokes.

You never thought much of it, but now looking at his nervous gaze

It clicks.

The notes are starting to make sense.

“The notes,” you say, softly.

“They were about me?”

He swallows hard, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

Doe eyes glassy.

“I’ve liked you—uhm—for a long while actually, and I thought the bears might be… romantic? but then I realized it was probably weird, I didn’t know how to stop without explaining and—“

He rambles and cuts himself off.

He exhales sharply, heart pounding out of his chest.

“I’m an idiot for doing this stupidity.”

You glance at your doorstep, where the brown bear sits, a note in its paw like always.

You pick it up, unfolding the paper.

“I’m scared, but I love you”

Your breath catches, lips parting as jungkook watches you now like he’s waiting for rejection.

You clutch the bear to your chest, heart skipping a beat.

The softness of the bear grounding you just like previous ones given by him.

“jungkook, this isn’t stupid.” you whisper.

A smile on your lips.

“It’s… adorable. Scary at first yes, but adorable.”

“You picked bears because of me?”

He nods.

“I thought they’d make you smile and you always light up when you talk about them.”

“You’re not mad?”

He asked, restless.

His eyes still wide with uncertainty, the fear of rejection still there.

You can't help it—you laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh god, you’re just ridiculous you know that? but I love them, every single one.”

You pause, meeting his gaze.

“And I think maybe… the guy leaving them, too.”

“Really?”

Hope in his voice, along with a slight tremble.

“Really.” you grin.

“Next time, maybe just ask me out instead of leaving stuffed animals in the dark like a little stalker.”

He laughs, a nervous yet joyful sound.

The sound warming you despite standing outside in the cold night air.

“So coffee tomorrow?”

You hum, looking at him while pretending to consider, enjoying teasing him and watching him squirm.

“Is that a yes…?”

His smile fades slightly.

“Depends. Only if you promise to keep leaving me bears.”

jungkook chuckles, the tension calming.

“Sure, but if I bring a bear for every date, you’ll need more space. Think you can handle my teddy bear game?”

His tone now cheeky, his smile bright.

“Bring it on, teddy guy.”

You both share a giggle, and you wonder why you didn’t notice him sooner.

As you invite him inside to escape the cold, you glance at the bear in your arms that you are hugging to yourself even tighter.

And the fluff in your arms feels like the start of something.

A promise

For the future.

────

💌 permanent taglist: @chaelvrx @wintaemoonjen @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @nanisblogg @tatamicc @mokaliciouss @armybomb-infires @jiniminisworld @seokjinthescientist @gyeomibearr @xmiaacxio @n0chuprettykook @gizaspicebag @aaclariww @dollytingz @pokalunolino @bunnies-only @cuntygguk

[cuppajoel]

first fruit since winter

pairing: modern!acacius x reader

synopsis: You come out of the shower and apply lotion. Marcus wants to help.

w/c: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), unprotected pnv sex, established couple, slight (legal) age gap, v fingering, pet names, slight religious imagery, p pronouns, breeding kink?, size kink, rubbing?

a/n: my wip list is so fkn long but I cannot get this man out of my head. This is a continuation of the same universe as this fic.

If you’d like to hear more about these (almost) love birds/ more modern!acacius pls let me know and I can tag you next time. This is unbeta’d and barely proof read.

Read on AO3

Steam chases you from your en-suite bathroom. Smells of coconut and jasmine trailing closely behind. Your hair is bundled into a towel which is precariously balanced on your head, not helped by the jiggling as you brush your teeth.

There’s nothing that you enjoy more than coming home after the gym to use your own shower. The rainfall setting on the shower head acts as a masseuse and works out the knots on your back.

As always after a workout, your body is tired but your brain is playing pinball with all of the endless tasks that await you tomorrow. You thought a shower would wipe those out but to no avail.

A black, terry-cloth robe is tied loosely around your waist, creating a v between your breasts as you saunter into your closet. You pinch the silken material of your pyjamas between your fingers, holding your toothbrush steady in your mouth as you walk again through to your bedroom.

Without realising it, you're murmuring to yourself. It almost sounds melodic. The white foam around your mouth threatens to spill out from the sides as you set your pyjamas onto your bed before returning to the bathroom to wash it all away.

Marcus sits upright in your bed. Cheaters perched on the bridge of his beautiful nose as he glances at you over his paperback. It’s something historic, war-related. He allows the book to fall softly to his chest, his attention piqued as your return from the bathroom. Your robe has become more undone, exposing the full curves of your body and your hair is still damp, creating a slight chill on your neck.

He takes a deep, audible breath and then releases it. He enjoys watching you exist within your own space as if he wasn’t there. For so long, he had partners who relied on him for so many things that by the end of it, their personality faded to what they thought he wanted from them- but not you.

Your routine was impacted minimally from this new situation that you found yourself in. For the first time in your adult life, you had swapped keys with someone, allowing the other access to your homes.

Despite having shared every inch of each other's bodies, this was somehow the most intimate thing you think you’ve done with this man. Eyes catching in the mirror as you brush your teeth; ironing his shirt because you were ‘doing yours anyway’; a call from the other end of the apartment that there was a ‘band-aid emergency’. Domesticity had shown you the soul of this man and you were falling hard.

Over by your vanity, you retrieve a bottle of your coconut body oil. You undo the tie of your robe, which was already hanging by a thread, and allow it to slip off your shoulders to the floor below. You pump the oil into your hand, set the bottle back on the side, then rub your hands together, warming the liquid. Lifting your leg to the small stool in front of the vanity, you start at your ankles, rubbing deep, thorough circles up your calf, shin and then knee.

“If I could have a picture painted on the back of my eyelids forever, it would be this.”

You glance up at Marcus. The paperback is closed, to one side of his bedside table. His head is cocked as if trying to get a better view of what you’re doing. His smile is lazy, eyes hooded from a long day at work but there’s a spark in them that tells you that something’s about to explode.

The circling doesn’t falter as you pump more oil into your hands, beginning to knead your plush thighs. “Mmmmm, I’m sure there are a million other things you’d rather look at than me putting lotion on…” your idle hands continue.

Slowly, he pulls off his round-rimmed glasses, folds the arms inwards and places them alongside his book. He peels back the covers from the lower-half of his body, revealing the fact he’s wearing nothing but a pair of briefs, swings his legs out of bed and floats over to where you stand.

He picks up the bottle of body oil and waves it under his nose. Eyes fluttering, he knows this is one of the undertones of you. The coconut mixes so well with your warm muskiness which elicits a Pavlovian response in him. Marcus feels his cock twitch from the tight fabric he’s confined in. He hums, vocalising his appreciation for the smell before placing it back down, exactly where he found it.

“Can I help?” He looks down at your hands with pouty lips, then flits back up to your heavy-lidded gaze. Under the soft glow of the bedroom light, the oil makes your skin glimmer and shine. It almost makes it look wet.

Marcus prides himself on being a man of strong wills. Able to wait and savour the moments of anticipation that make the moments of pleasure even more heightened. But looking at you here, warm and slick, anticipating the feeling of you under his touch, is making his strength falter.

He tries to keep his mind on the here and now, but viewing you in all of your naked glory, Marcus’ mind begins to conjure up the most carnal of images as his cock becomes harder than stone.

Narrowing your eyes at the man towering above you, you remove your foot from the soft cushioning of the stool then gesture for him to sit on the vacant seat, which he does so obediently. His dark eyes somehow grow larger as you now stand above him, like he’s just been presented with a giant present to unwrap.

The size difference between your hand and Marcus’ is laughable, as you take his in yours, turning it so his palm faces the ceiling. Reaching behind him you pick the bottle up once more and pump the liquid into his palm. He cups his hand slightly, moving it so the oil doesn’t escape.

Neither of you move for a moment. You can feel the heaviness of his gaze as it roams across your full, heavy chest, down to the curve of your stomach and waist. Under his gaze you are a goddess; something to be revered and worshiped.

You grab both of his wrists and force his palms together. His eyes don’t drop from yours as he warms the oil in his praying hands. He is ready to sink to his knees at your alter. “There is no better sight than you.” His lips curl upwards, he hasn't moved from the position you manoeuvred him into.

Spinning, you present him with your back. Rolling your shoulders deeply, you try to keep your heart steady and your brain relaxed as his strong, wide fingers find the indents of your hips. “I feel like you may be a little biased, given I’m all naked and lubed up…” you chuckle, looking down at him from over your shoulder.

“I cannot do your beauty justice with words.” He starts, spreading his fingers wide and rounding them back and forth, kneading your cheeks. The movements he makes are not soft but also not punishing; calculated and steady. You can’t bare to look away from him, though his eyes follow his hands as they push and pull at your body.

“Every part of you surrounds me and fills up each of my senses so that I lose control…” he slowly moves his thumbs in circles until they reach the small of your back. He increases the pressure, knowing that you have trouble with that area.

“I see you, and I’m in awe.” His grip is unrelenting, he rises from the stool so that your back is to his chest. “When I touch you, my whole body burns.” He holds you as he pushes his hips forward, you can feel the warmth of his cock. A hum passes your lips and you can’t help but to push your slicked ass back into him.

A throaty moan turns into a chuckle as Marcus realises that you are just as ready for this as he is. His lips hover at your ear and you can feel him smile against you. “To smell you…” he inhales, the soft breath tickles the fine hairs on your neck and shoots goosebumps all down your arms which he smooths over with his oil-slicked palms before they settle on your rib cage.

“To hear you…” his hands travel further up, cupping your heavy breasts and squeezing them roughly, eliciting a sweet whine from your lips. The oil from his hands has all but depleted but with what’s left he spreads all over your tits, pushing and pulling with his calloused hands.

“Mmmfuuuuck” you allow your head to roll back onto his shoulder, your eyes fluttering closed as he twists and yanks at your hardened nipples, his breathing deepening.

“But d’you know what makes me lose it the most?” He rolls your nipples in between his thumb and fore fingers as the rest of his hands move the heft of your tits with his palms.

Your brain is still two moves behind him, nerve endings still firing off from the sensation of the body oil swirling under his relentless fingers.

A faint rumble at your back paired with stilled hands on your chest brings you back in the room. Marcus nips at your earlobe before soothing it with his hot mouth. Gently, he lets your punished bosom fall from his grasp as he turns you by the shoulders to face him.

Heavy-lidded, panting, and jaw-slacked is how Marcus finds you. He bites the inside of his cheeks, trying to hide how giddy your pliancy makes him. Lifting your chin with his knuckle, he ensures your gaze meets his and stays as he guides you backwards to the bed.

“What makes me lose it the most, the thing that taunts me every day when I’m sitting at my desk, daydreaming about coming home to you…” he lowers you to the pillowy softness of your comforter, hovering above you so that the tip of your noses are touching. “The thing that makes me run faster every morning?” Maintaining eye contact, you can feel him slowly walk his fingers from your kneecap up to the crease between your thigh and pussy.

Sucking in your cheeks, you bite down hard, trying to keep your breathing even. Marcus’ thick first digit swipes slowly up and down your drenched core spreading your wetness. “Fuuck, Marcus-“

“Ohhhhh, there she is.” He sucks in a deep breath as he adds his second finger rubbing slow, deep circles around your clit. “Tasting your sweet cunt is the first fruit since winter.” He pushes both fingers inside of you, his own eyes flickering closed as your tightness wraps around them. Marcus fucks his fingers in and out of you with careful precision, his honey-glazed eyes half open and staring deeply into yours.

Steadily, he slides his fingers from you. Leading a trail of wetness up your naked body, across your tummy, circling your poor nipples, before bringing them inches from your faces. His lips envelop his digits, a throaty rumble passing through him as you feel him rut his covered cock against your inner thigh.

Extending your neck, you lick at Marcus’ fingers and tongue, needing to know the taste of you in his mouth. He appeases you for a moment, licking a swirling his own tongue against both his fingers and grazing it past your own before it all becomes too much. “I need to be inside you.” He mumbles after removing his fingers from both your mouths.

Marcus shucks off his light grey briefs now stained a darker tone from his leaking cock. Holding himself up on a forearm, he takes length in his hand, pumping himself back and forth allowing his flushed tip to caress your clit, before notching himself at your entrance, pushing in half an inch.

Rapidly, he sucks in air through his teeth, trying so desperately to keep his eyes open and on you. “Your cunt is so greedy for me, sweetheart.” He dips his head to look at the point where your bodies are meeting.

He pushes in a little further, licking his lips as he does so. “Mmmmmfuck, look at us.” He brings himself out of you just to push forward again, only his tip inside. The wet sound of your soaked core bouncing off the walls, only highlighting how feral this man makes you.

Following his instruction, you brace yourself up onto your elbow, you look down to see Marcus’ thick, weeping cock tease in and out of you.

Surveying the toned roundness of his stomach, your man puts on a show for you. He allows the swollen crown of his dick to catch your opening, stretching you with the giant girth of his tip, only to pull out again.

It is obscenity at its finest. The heady sounds and smells of you both perfume the air, all with the sweetness of coconut oil.

At the same time, you look up, holding each other there in the moment. The older man pushes himself in, inch by aching inch as you wrap your legs around his waist and push down on his lower back, trying to feel him even deeper. Finally, he is seated within you, the burn of his stretch only adding to the carnal desire.

“You Goddess; you take me so fucking well.” Marcus’ head falls in the space beside yours, his breath hot and ragged as he stills his hips. You can feel yourself flutter and squeeze against his giant cock, willing him to move. He does, but only circles his hips, savouring the feeling of your tight cunt squeezing him like a fist.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, the broad backed man takes pitty on you, pushing your left leg back and up over his shoulder as he starts his legato movements.

In all your years you have never been fucked in a way like this. College boys with the stamina of Olympians have nothing on the animalistic urge that you awaken in one another.

“Do you like it when I stretch you out?” Marcus’ deep timbre brings you back into the room as he licks at his lips. His eyes snake slowly from your own to the point where his giant cock is testing your limits and then back up again.

“Hmmm?” He goads, a smirk slowly developing as he feels you tighten around him over and over. “Feel us together, sweetheart. Feel how my cock stretches your tight little pussy.” He takes hold of your wrist and brings it down to the fusing point.

With a sly smirk of your own, you grab the base of his dick and slowly pump the part of him that can’t quite fit. A deep throaty moan rumbles from his chest as his deep eyes turn a darker espresso colour. “Fuck, you stretch me so much…keep going, please.” You can feel the faint twitch of his dick as you know you’re both not going to last long.

“You play with that swollen clit but don’t you dare come yet. I need to feel you squeeze around me as I’m filling you with my cum.” You should feel embarrassed as the type of moan that passes your lips, breathy and deep, but you don’t have the brain function to care. This man is fucking you dumb.

As any good soldier would, you follow your clear instructions from the man in charge as you roll your clit in quick, tight circles. “That’s it, my sweetness, you like the idea of me filling you right up don’t you?” His thrusts become faster and deeper. The leg that was up on his shoulder, now fallen slightly but hooked over his back as his relentlessness never falters.

Marcus smiles down at you, his bright pearly whites unable to be hidden as he peers directly into your soul. Slowly, he brings his lips down to yours, your body almost folded in on itself as he fucks up into you.

The warm heat of his tongue glides and smooths against your own as you hear him moan into you which is the thing you both need to push you off the edge.

Your tongues become sloppy but never still as you feel his cock jerk inside of you, filling you in the way that you need him to.

The sound of your heartbeat rings in your ears as you both continue microscopic movements of your hips, only prolonging your highs as the hormones rush through your bodies.

Marcus throws his broadness and takes you with him as he rolls onto his back and manoeuvres so that you straddle him.

Too exhausted to sit up, you press yourself to him, chest to chest. The deep thudding of his heart brings you both back down to earth.

After a while of soft touches and lingering kisses, Marcus can hear your breathing even out, a whisper of a snore coming from you. He presses a kiss to your, nearly dry, hair. “I’m falling in love with you…” he whispers to the otherwise silent room. The confession that will be heard on another day.

Np tags:

@guiltyasdave , @baronessvonglitter , @mandaloriankait , @ohhoneypascal , @gothcsz , @iknowisoundcrazy, @stellamarielu

[hotyanderedaddies]

Spending the Night with Your Yandere Vampire Boyfriend

[Yandere! Vampire x Human! GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You've been with your new boyfriend for a few weeks by now, and things were developing really quickly. Much faster than any of your previous relationships.

Your new boyfriend, whom you playfully call Daddy, recently revealed to you that he's a vampire which was a total shock to you.

Well, maybe you should've caught on when he'd only come around at night when the sun was down, you never saw him eat any food, he seemed to avoid garlic at all costs, and he was super pale... and he had vampire fangs.

A total surprise.

Either way, you weren't too scared when Daddy revealed his "secret" to you.

Daddy is perfect boyfriend, honestly.

Daddy knows all of your likes and dislikes, and even loves all of your hobbies. The two of you share the same interests in books, movies, video games-- everything!

And you better since he spent such a long time following you around, studying your every move. Watching. Waiting.

Daddy is a pure gentleman, always treating you with the upmost respect. He virtually worships the ground you walk on, treating you like you're his precious treasure.

Because you are his. All his. And only his.

Daddy really seemed to walk straight out of a daydream, rescuing you from such a dreary life of working retail and attending boring college classes. He really helped to lift you up, especially after so many of your personal relationships seemed to have tapered off once you'd started college.

He only got rid of those who would try to take you away from him. Honest. He did it all for your relationship.

So when the two of you were on one of your dates at Daddy's house, he suggested that you stay the night (well, the morning). He had some sleep aid that he could give you to help you fall asleep during the day; although, dating a vampire was kind of throwing your sleep schedule out of whack.

At first, you were a little nervous since the two of you hadn't done anything past making out, but with one look at the eager face Daddy had, you melted.

"Sure, Daddy," you smiled.

Daddy's smile stretched out his handsome face, and his vampire fangs even poked out.

He grabbed you by the hand, his cool fingers interlocking with yours, as he led you up the stairs to the bedroom. You've never been up to his bedroom since the two of you almost never made it past the couch, so you were a little excited--

The bedroom door swung open and in the middle of the room was the "bed".

"A c-coffin?" you stuttered, your stomach falling to the floor.

"Of course, Darling," Daddy chuckled, dragging you closer to the coffin. "I'm a vampire after all. What did you think I slept in?"

"A bed...?"

"But then how would I keep the sunlight off me?"

...oh.

The coffin seemed to be standard-sized (you've been to one or two funerals, so they weren't completely unfamiliar to you), and it was lined with a clean, white satin that looked incredibly soft to the touch.

But it was a coffin!

And your frantic human brain couldn't help but associate it with death! Hell no, you weren't getting in that thing!

"Um, Daddy?" you mumbled, uncertainty drenching your small voice. "M-maybe we could rush to my apartment to use my bed and I'll put up some curtains?"

Daddy's smile disappeared, quickly being replaced with a deep frown. He narrowed his red eyes in your direction, tightening the grip he had on your hand.

"We won't make it before the sun rises," he growled, his voice deep and curt. "Now, get in our coffin."

When you hesitated, Daddy lost his patience, wrapping both of his steel arms around you. The vampire was much stronger than you are, so he had absolutely no problem forcing you into the tight confines of the small coffin.

Daddy crawled inside right after you, grabbing the lid and slamming it down with a bang. An audible click sounded out, and you were trapped in the dark coffin.

You couldn't see a thing thanks to how dark it was.

The coffin was so compact that you could feel multiple sides-- the back pressed against you and was rather soft, but you could also feel the one of the sides and the top touching you. It was enclosed all around you, trapping you, leaving almost no room for you to even move or wiggle around.

You could barely move.

You could barely breathe.

But there was a cold, hard feature inside the coffin with you, and it snaked both of its large arms around you and roughly yanked you into it.

Daddy buried his nose in your air and moaned loudly as he inhaled your scent.

"Calm down, Darling," he cooed. "Daddy's here. Daddy's got you."

Your heart raced in your chest and you felt dizzy from your panicked hyperventilating.

"It's okay, my sweet darling," Daddy continued to whisper into your ear, keeping you trapped against him. "I know it's a bit of an adjustment, but it'll be worth it, I promise."

He pressed his cool lips against your forehead.

You tried to squirm away, but he was tight against your front and the side of the coffin was tight against your back.

There was no room to move away.

At all.

You're trapped.

"Get some sleep, Darling," Daddy yawned. "I love you."

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑶𝒏𝒆.

⤷ gender neutral, Valyrian blood (dragon rider), and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I was inspired by @reiignonme, and I just HAD to do this. I'm so excited to write it. Also, I do know that dragons are aggressive creatures, but to their bonded rider, they're different.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍:

・The God of Dragons, is what his title should have been

・But to you, he wasn't the intimidating beast that everyone saw him as.

・To you he was a work of art, a creation so wonderous that your breath hitched whenever you saw him.

・You show your love to him by laying beside him, treating him with respect and dignity.

・You hate leaving him on his own, but you allow him his independence.

・Never in a million years would you put him in the Dragonpit, chained and waiting for you.

・And in turn, he shows you his love by fiercely protecting you. He will fly you anywhere, and calls whenever he's beckoned.

・Only obedient to you, he doesn't listen to anyone else but you. However, it's almost as if he's level-headed and can be reasoned with.

・The other dragons fall in line and let him lead - which means you're the leader as well.

・His roar is earth-shakingly loud. And it can be heard from miles away.

・All of your subjects bow to you, knowing your power.

・Because we know, that a dragonrider has the same traits as their dragon.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐗𝐄𝐒:

・Is quite the adventurous dragon; she isn't one to be paraded around like Silverwing or Dreamfyre. She rather dislikes large crowds, preferring mountainsides and flying over oceans. She doesn't like small spaces either.

・Bonding with Meraxes was like bonding with a Border Collie - always has energy and curiosity

・But unlike Quicksilver, Meraxes is less energetic in a comic sense. She's more mature; more battle-worn.

・Will protect you unrelentingly.

・Hates sudden loud noises

・But loves hearing how much you love her and how much of a good job she's done

・Her teeth are smaller than the other dragons, but more pointed/sharp and there's more of them

・Her roar is also more high pitch and of a scream

・Meraxes' scales are pearlescent and seem to move in the sunlight

・Not many people know that, because she doesn't like being approached by others.

・That's why she isn't kept in the dragonpit.

・But she isn't as aggressive as Vermithor or the Cannibal

・You can tell that she wants a mate though, and often tries to woo Balerion - but he wants none of it.

𝐕𝐇𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐑:

・She shows her love by waiting for you to sit on her saddle before taking off.

・You have to shout out the command to fly and then, she takes off.

・You have a very special bond with Vhagar, which clicked into place because you would spend more time looking after her than making her fly.

・For example, talking to her, brushing/washing her, stroking her face.

・For those who don't think dragons understand - you're wrong because they really do. That's why some riders have a bigger bond than others.

・Some just see their dragon as an animal, as a beast. But those that see them as apart of them, that's when the true bond clicks into place.

・And you knew that being pampered is everyone's dream - or just being doted upon. So, because you put in the hours for her, she does the same for you.

・She obeys your commands without question, because she trusts you.

・But she doesn't like anyone else touching her, in fact there's a few trainers with burnt hands because of Vhagar.

・She loves laying in the sun, and will fly you to a beach to lay in the sand. Often you're chastised by your family for bringing sand into the castle.

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑:

・LOVES TO FLY

・She's the type of dragon to be like, "let's go faster! let's go faaaaasteeeer!"

・Isn't as aggressive as others, but would rather be away from people if able.

・Hates being paraded around

・But will do it if persuaded with food and belly rubs (although most dragons don't like to expose their stomachs as it is one of their most vulnerable body parts)

・When you introduce her to a friend or acquaintance, she does a big roar and then huffs a laugh at the person's scared response

・One of the more docile dragons like Silverwing

・Has similar colouring to Meraxes, but unlike her, Quicksilver is smaller but nimbler.

・One of the fastest

・Can beat anyone in a race

・And she LOVES to race

・Has to be ridden everyday otherwise she goes hyperactive and will lash out at the trainers

・Once when you were bedridden for a week, she flicked a whole group of trainers with her tail and then let out the biggest flame she had ever expelled.

・Tail flick = I'm irritated, Roar = I'm hungry or is trying to scare someone for a laugh, Fire = she is actually angry, Baring her teeth = scared

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋:

・No one is allowed to approach him, hell no one is allowed to look at him.

・He's an incredibly aggressive and temperamental dragon. One that hates everyone but you.

・Completely black, he's known for eating other dragons - which makes him an outsider. No dragon, no matter how mighty, doesn't feel safe around him

・Even Balerion keeps his distance

・You weren't sure whether to keep his name or not, since you did have an emotional connection with him.

・But you guessed that he like being intimidating

・You have to feed him yourself or he will go hunting for dragons or sheep. Hasn't actually eaten a person, but has killed many.

・As he's your bonded dragon, people are a lot more intimidated by you. Since dragons and riders have somewhat similar traits.

・Although he does like showing you his den. He looks at you like, 'it's nice, isn't it. Did you see the bones I placed at the front? Yeah...it's to scare people off...'

・You see him differently than others see him. You aren't afraid of him. It's how you were able to bond with him in the first place.

・There was something in his eye that you thought was vulnerability, rather than hostility.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑:

・His favourite form of physical touch is being scratched, like, really really scratched.

・Vermithor's back leg will wobble in absolute delight

・Especially when you get to those places where he cannot reach himself

・Doesn't like anyone but you doing it (or anyone but you being in the room when you do it)

・He's a very private & grumpy boi. Doesn't like being woken too early either. And likes to have an afternoon nap.

・And an angry/aggressive one too. He doesn't like being woken up early, and once you had to dodge out of his firing line. When he realised it was you, he made a really long upset face (that only you and his only other rider, Jaehaerys has seen)

・But he's incredibly loyal, and would die for you.

・What's important to you, is important to him (unless it's before 8am)

・Can sense when you're overwhelmed and will let out a huge roar so no one comes near

・Likes when you fall asleep with him. He may like his solitude, but he doesn't mind company (it depends on the company)

・Actually likes doing royal processions because he gets to show off how big and scary he is. He knows it's too remind the people of whose in charge.

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆:

・The least aggressive out of all the dragons (but that doesn't make her a formidable foe.)

・It's almost as if Silverwing understands that dragons keep people in line, but an approachable dragon keeps the respect and admiration of the people

・If she's patient and sociable with others, then you know damn well she has all the love, patience and affection for you.

・She shows her affection by nuzzling into your open palm, her eyes closed and you swear her lips are in the shape of a smile

・Wherever you are - standing alone, or in a crowd etc., she has her body wrapped around you; shielding you.

・And when you're alone together, she'll lay down and let you rest with her, and/or on her. Then, she'll fully wrap around you to help you warm up.

・She absolutely loves spending time with you. Funnily enough, she's a very outgoing dragon.

・She won't let you come into any harm though. Either because she herself has placated the people who could hurt you (the common people) by interacting with them calmly and gently.

・And if anyone tries to hurt you, she's the first to react. Although her temperament seems calm, she is highly protective of you and will burn someone to ash if they try to hurt you.

・When you're in King's Landing and the King demands that Silverwing be put in the Dragonpits, you sneak down to sleep with her. You have a very tight bond.

・Otherwise, she takes you somewhere else to sleep; amongst the grass, so you can fall asleep underneath the stars.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── PEREGRINE // ONE

Series Synopsis: The ways that you and Seishiro Nagi fall together and fall apart over the years.

Chapter Synopsis: You wrap up your affairs before flying over to your hometown, where your best friend will soon have his wedding.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Nagi x Reader, Kira x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.2k

Content Warnings: unhealthy relationships, cheating, non-linear narrative, probably ooc, angst, nagi is endgame, kira sucks, alternate universe, original characters

A/N: you know it’s a m1ckeyb3rry fic when the main love interest doesn’t even show up for the first few chapters…also please note this is NOT THE FIRST CHAPTER of the story there is a prologue before it!! which gives a lot of necessary background so you’re not (as) confused by the plot

divider credits: @/benkeibear

“Sora,” you cooed at your cat, your torso jammed beneath the bed as you tried to pull her out. “Dearest Sora, please don’t make this so difficult.”

“I told you you should’ve gotten rid of her when you had the chance,” Ryosuke said from where he was folding clothes to put in his suitcase. “Honestly, I don’t get why you insist on keeping her around. All she does is shit in the house and make problems.”

“She uses her litter box like a good girl, and she doesn’t cause trouble on purpose,” you said. “She’s an animal, not a person. She’s not capable of malicious intent.”

“Whatever. All I’m saying is that things would be a lot easier if you had just left her at the shelter when you moved in with me,” he said.

“I’ve had her for years,” you said, finally getting a grasp on her body and yanking her out in one swift move. “She’s a part of my family. I don’t know why you’re so determined to hate her.”

“She hates me, too!” he said. True to form, Sora hissed at him as you walked past, her ears flattening to show the disdain she had always held for him. “And you always take her side. It’s like you like her more than me!”

You rolled your eyes. “She’s a cat. You’re jealous of a cat.”

And you’re the one who’s cheating, anyways. You left this second part unsaid, because it wasn’t really relevant to the conversation, and besides, you had done such a good job at maintaining the facade of normalcy in your relationship that it would be a waste to break it just because he was annoying you.

That didn’t stop you from scowling at him when his back was turned, pressing a kiss atop Sora’s head and smiling when she purred at the show of affection — or was it because you were in the kitchen and near to her container of treats on the counter that she was so pleased?

“I’m not sure what to do with you,” you admitted, scratching under her chin with one hand and opening the jar with the other, offering her half of a treat as a consolation for having ripped her so uncaringly from her hiding place. She accepted it daintily, which meant that all was forgiven, and you stroked her in appreciation.

She was an enormous, fluffy white cat, closer in size to a small dog than anything. Her eyes were a wide, endless blue, hence why you had named her Sora, and her fur felt like cotton when you ran your hands through it. You had had her for almost as long as you had been in America, and you thought that there was almost no one in the entire vapid country who you loved more.

Normally, if you and Ryosuke had to go somewhere, you’d drop Sora off at Chigiri’s. She liked him well enough, and he was typically glad for the company, so it was a mutually beneficial deal. But of course, this time, Chigiri would also be away, as he was attending the same wedding that you and Ryosuke were, which meant that you were somewhat out of luck.

Sora dangled limply in your arms like a heap of rags as you paced about the kitchen, trying and failing to come up with someone who could take care of her while you were gone. Finally giving up when you realized that Chigiri had been right, you really did need more friends, you picked up your phone and called the man in question.

“Yo,” he said, answering almost immediately, though you could hear the shower running in the background, which meant he was either about to get into the bath or had gotten out for the express purpose of answering you. Either way, you decided not to hold him up with useless pleasantries.

“Hey, Chigiri,” you said. “I heard you’re going to Reo and May’s wedding?”

“Yeah, I’m between jobs again, so it’s not like I need to take off work or anything,” he said.

“Again?” you said, your resolve to have a quick conversation shattering almost immediately. The sound of water stopped, which meant that he, too, sensed the call was probably not going to be a short one.

“Tell me about it. I can only land short-term gigs at the moment,” he said.

“Maybe you should just move away from trying to coach entirely,” you suggested. “You were a marketing major, right? You could probably go corporate.”

“I know, but I don’t think I’m that desperate yet. I’m sure something or another will come along. The issue is that no high-level team wants a coach who hasn’t played in years, but those high-level gigs are the ones that are much steadier in terms of pay and schedule,” he said.

“I’d want you as a coach,” you said loyally. “If I was a soccer player.”

“You’d be a shitty soccer player. I don’t even think my coaching could change that fact,” he said.

“You’re so mean to me,” you said.

“Someone has to do it,” he said.

“And there I was, trying to support you,” you said. “On a more serious note, though, any team that doesn’t hire you just because of what happened back then is stupid.”

“Oh, I agree completely, but try telling them that. It’s all ‘sorry, but we want a coach that has a little more experience.’ I have experience! The only reason our school ever won games was because of me, even after I stopped being able to play myself. It’s not like that dumbass coach ever did anything for us beyond praising your peacock bastard fiancé,” he said

“Exactly,” you said, though you had no idea how true this was, as according to Ryosuke, he had been the one to carry the team to victory. The roles Chigiri might’ve had to play in their victories, if any, had always been omitted.

“Ugh, it’s fine. Like I said, I’m sure there’s some youth league that’ll take me on next season, so it’s okay. I’ll work it out, like I always do,”he said.

“Let me know if you need help at any point,” you said.

“Always,” he said.

“In the meantime, uh, I actually need your help,” you said.

“Right, I was wondering why you had called,” he said.

“The thing is that I don’t have anyone else I can leave Sora with, so I was going to pay one of my company’s interns to watch her while we’re gone,” you said.

“Aw, make sure you pick someone gentle. She’s very particular,” he said.

“You know, she is my cat,” you said.

“Just reminding you!” he said.

“I think I know who I’m going to ask already, so as long as he agrees to it, it’ll be fine,” you said.

“Okay, so what’s my place in all of this?” he said.

“Ryosuke and I have to go over a little earlier, since I’m the maid of honor, so I was wondering if you’d be alright with watching her until you have to leave?” you said.

“Why, because you don’t have to pay me?” he said.

“I can, if you want,” you said. “It’s just so she can be somewhere she’s comfortable, since she’s never met this kid before.”

“I was just joking, don’t worry about it. Drop her off whenever,” he said.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“Yup,” he agreed. “Now, I was kind of in the middle of something, so…”

“Oops, right, go enjoy your shower,” you said.

“Wait, how’d you know I was showering?”

Although there were several interns working for your company at any given time, you generally paid little attention to most of them. You were too busy with your own work and life to care about their struggles, so beyond giving them advice when they asked and helping them out when you didn’t have to go out of your way to, you didn’t interact with them much.

There was one boy, though, who had caught your eye. Something about his aloof personality and quiet demeanor reminded you of a person you had known back in high school, and you had unofficially adopted him, though you weren’t sure if he was exactly aware of this fact.

Actually, he was definitely unaware, considering the way he all but jumped out of his skin when you sat across from him in the lunchroom.

“Hey, Niko,” you said brightly. His dark hair covered his eyes, so you couldn’t read his reaction, but if you had to guess, it was probably panic. If you were in his place, that was what you’d be feeling, considering it wasn’t exactly typical of the regular employees to hang out with the students.

“Um, hello, Miss L/N,” he said, somehow managing to keep his voice level. “Am I in trouble or something?”

“No,” you said. “I just need you to do me a favor.”

He got out of his seat immediately, pulling out his phone from his pocket and opening the notes app. You furrowed your brow as he tapped his foot expectantly.

“Well? What’s your coffee order? And which shop do you want me to get it from? I accidentally went to Starbucks the other day to get a latte for the director and he freaked out about it,” he said.

“Oh! He thinks Starbucks makes their coffee too sweet, that’s probably why,” you said.

“I learned that the hard way,” he said.

“Yikes, I’m sure that was not a fun conversation,” you said. “But that’s unimportant. I don’t need coffee, and you don’t have to say yes to this or anything. I guess you can consider it to be more of a request from a friend — although I promise I will pay you!”

“Okay,” Niko said hesitantly.

“I’ll just lay it on you,” you said.

“Go ahead,” he said.

“I’m going abroad for a wedding soon, and I need someone to watch my cat,” you said. “She’s very well-behaved and friendly! Honestly, she’ll just sit with you on the couch the whole time, I’m sure. I’ll give you her food and everything, and like I said, I’ll pay you, so how about it?”

For the first time, he looked up at you, his hair falling out of his face and revealing bright, shimmering eyes. He clasped his hands together, a smile threatening to dawn upon his face, and then it was your turn to grow bewildered by the sudden switch in his personality.

“Yes!” he said. “I’d even do it for free, Miss L/N.”

“Woah, are you a cat enthusiast or something? And none of that; of course I’m going to pay, or else it’d just feel like I’m taking advantage of some poor intern,” you said.

“I really like them,” he said. “I’ve had one my whole life, but my house is a three hour drive from campus, so I haven’t gotten to see her much since graduating high school. I really miss hanging out with her, though, so it’ll be nice to have a cat around, even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Perfect!” you said, cheering internally at how well things had worked out. “She’ll be staying with a friend of mine, so if you’ll give me your number, I’ll send it to him so you can coordinate picking her up at some point.”

“Sure,” he said, giving you his phone so you could type his number into your own. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Hyoma Chigiri,” you said. Niko’s jaw dropped.

“Hyoma Chigiri?” he whispered. “You’re friends with him?”

“Do you know him or something?” you said, handing him his phone back. Niko shook his head.

“Not personally, but I remember reading about what happened to him,” he said. “It’s one of the reasons my parents convinced me to stop playing soccer.”

“Ah, maybe don’t mention it around him,” you said. “He’s doing fine now, but he still doesn’t like talking about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Niko said. “My lips are sealed. I just can’t believe I’m going to have Hyoma Chigiri’s number in my phone!”

“Feel free to act like a fan all you want,” you said, after the initial strangeness of meeting someone still so obsessed with Chigiri had passed. “He really appreciates it when people praise him. Though, you probably shouldn’t spam him or anything.”

“I’ll be just as responsible with his phone number as I will with your cat. Thank you for entrusting me with this, Miss L/N! I promise I won’t let you down,” he said.

“I know you won’t,” you said. “And, to be fair, it’s not really a difficult task. Just sit at home and watch TV a lot and be kind with her; if you can do that, then Sora will be perfectly content.”

“That’s what I’d do anyways,” he said.

“Great,” you said. “Now I can feel even less like I’m taking advantage of some poor intern.”

“Thank you again for your faith in me!” he said when you reached your office, bowing at you as if you were some kind of sage master that had offered him a great opportunity for personal growth.

At least he was taking it seriously. You thanked whatever deity had intervened on your behalf that you had found the one person within a ten-mile radius who would care for Sora as well as you or Chigiri would.

Unlike Ryosuke, you barely packed anything but the most basic of items. This was because you knew full well that the minute you stepped foot on Japanese soil, you would be dragged into Reo’s arms, whereupon he would force you into his car and take you shopping at the closest luxury mall — on his card, of course. He was prone to such acts when it came to you, mostly because you were one of the first true friends he had ever had, and so he tended to spoil you as if you were his baby sister or something.

“How can you be sure that Reo’s going to get you everything you need?” Ryosuke said, eyeing the suitcase you lifted into the trunk of the car. “It’s been a pretty long time since you saw him last. He’s probably matured a ton since then — I mean, he’s getting married! What kind of wife would be okay with her husband doting on some random girl?”

“For one, I’m not some random girl; I’ve known May longer than Reo has, and I’m also the one who introduced them to one another. She knows there’s nothing between us, so there would be no reason for her to not be okay with it. Secondly, I’ve been friends with Reo for so long that he’s more like a weird cousin of mine than anything. The Mikages look after their own, and it just so happens that I am, by proxy, one of them. So I can be reasonably confident that it’ll work out in that way,” you said.

“Don’t you feel bad, then?” he said. “You’re using your best friend for his money.”

“You’re so determined to find fault with our relationship,” you said. “It’s not like that. Everyone has different ways to show affection for the people they care about. It just so happens that Reo’s so wealthy that that kind of thing is his own personal manner.”

Ryosuke scoffed, pressing the button to turn on the ignition and starting the car without another word, prompting a worried mewl from Sora, whose carrier was currently on your lap. You tapped the side to remind her that you were still there with her, and she quieted at that.

“Don’t forget that we have to go to Chigiri’s first,” you said.

“Yes, yes, we’ll stop by your lover’s house,” Ryosuke said. At your surprised expression, he laughed. “What? You’re always with him or at his place. Any normal person would suspect it.”

There were a million things you could say in response, but the least-inflammatory was a repetition of the same thing you had been telling him since the day the two of you got together.

“You know I’ve never been with anyone but you,” you said.

“Of course,” he said. “I guess that’s true. No matter how many people you sleep with now, you can never change the fact that I was the first.”

“Hm,” you said, staring out of the window and speaking to his reflection instead of facing him properly. “Don’t be crude.”

“Come on, it’s just us two. When else can we make these kinds of jokes?” he said.

“You didn’t seem like you were joking,” you noted.

“Y/N, I’m hurt. You thought I was being serious? I mean, did you really think that I believed for a second that anyone preferred that washed up princess’s company to mine?” he said, stalling the car in the driveway and grinning. “Tell him I said hi.”

“You and I both know that’ll accomplish nothing,” you said, slinging the bag of Sora’s things over your shoulder and gripping the handle of her carrier so tightly that your knuckles whitened. “I’ll be back soon. No point in missing our flight.”

“I’ll be here,” Ryosuke said, waving at you as he began to fiddle with the knobs on the car’s dashboard, evidently trying to decide whether he wanted the radio to play classical music or the latest episode of some talk show.

You rang the doorbell and then stepped back, knowing it might take Chigiri a second to get to the door depending on where in the house he was located. Luckily, he had been expecting your arrival, so by the time your arm began to grow numb from holding Sora’s carrier, he was opening the door and inviting you in.

“Thank you again for doing this,” you said, setting the carrier down with a thump and massaging your shoulder. Chigiri crouched gingerly, unzipping the opening to the carrier and allowing Sora to peek her head out. When she realized where she was, she bounded out, rubbing her head against Chigiri’s legs as he breathed out a laugh and rubbed her face with his hands.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “It’s nice having someone else in the house. Less lonely.”

Your face softened, and if it weren’t for Ryosuke’s presence looming in the driveway, you’d have leaned over and hugged him. But as it was, your fiancé was waiting, and if you lingered for much longer, you risked missing your flight.

“You have Niko’s number?” you said.

“Yeah. He’s kind of a weird kid,” Chigiri said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“He keeps telling me that he thinks I’m cool and that he can’t believe he’s texting me,” Chigiri said, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “So strange.”

At this, you smiled, vowing to text Niko and thank him later. His admiration was exactly the boost Chigiri needed when he was so down on his luck, and though he was pretending like he found it odd, it was obvious he was pleased by the attention.

“As long as he can take care of Sora,” you said. Chigiri nodded in determination.

“I’m sure he can. He obviously has good taste in other things, so it stands to reason that he’d be the kind of person who could really look out for her in the way she’s used to,” he said.

“You would be the first to die in a horror movie,” you said. “Did you know that?”

“What? Why would you say such a thing?” he said.

“Never mind,” you said. “I should go. Ryosuke’s in the car, and our flight is soon.”

Chigiri wrinkled his nose, his whole delicate face crumpling at the mention of your fiancé.

“I thought something felt off about the property,” he said.

“You are so dramatic,” you said. “He says hi.”

“Tell him I said fuck off,” Chigiri said.

“I don’t think — actually, sure,” you said. “I’ll do that. See you at the wedding. And Sora, please be a good girl for Chigiri and Niko alike.”

“She will be,” Chigiri said affectionately. Sora had wriggled her way into his arms, and he stood while hugging her to his chest, ready to shut the door behind you. “See you, Y/N.”

You were reluctant to leave, because it would be so easy to stay and talk with Chigiri while playing with Sora, but you knew you had to. Even that knowledge, though, was hardly enough — it was simply the thought of seeing Reo and May again that made you take the next step, and the next, all of the way until you were back in the passenger seat of the car and Ryosuke was reversing the car down the driveway.

“So, how is my beloved teammate?” Ryosuke said. “Did he leave you with a message for me?”

“Yes,” you said. “He told me to tell you to fuck off.”

Ryosuke chuckled. “Sounds about right. He’s always been a petty son of a—”

“Ryosuke,” you sighed. “Do you really get any gain out of insulting the only friend I have left in this country?”

“It’s the same gain he gets out of insulting your fiancé!” he said.

“Which I always reprimand him for,” you said. “And also, he at least has something resembling a reason to resent you. When you do it, it just feels excessive.”

“You defend me to him?” he said.

“Obviously?” you said. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I suddenly feel very cheerful and optimistic,” he observed.

“What are you talking about?” you said. He waved you off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It was a personal musing. Think of it like an interjection from the narrator, except that in this case, the narrator and the protagonist are the same.”

“Okay,” you said. “Sure. If that’s what makes sense to you.”

The two of you spent the rest of the drive to the airport in relative silence. Ryosuke hummed along to whatever pop song came on the radio, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove, and you texted your friends — mostly Reo and May, who had been anxiously waiting for your arrival since you had agreed to come at all.

When you had first started dating, you used to go on aimless drives for hours, talking about whatever crossed your mind. Not a second would go by without one of you speaking, but that kind of constant conversation wasn’t sustainable. Eventually, you both ran out of things to say, and so you began to spend more and more of your time together in silence. That was around the time that Ryosuke began to seek outside assistance in quelling the fire which was constantly blazing within him; whether it was a coincidence or a cause, you could not tell, but it remained that everything had happened at once and led to your relationship now being like this.

You always forgot how long the flight back to Japan was. It was the second reason you never visited, beyond the fact that there was hardly anything worth visiting in the first place — it was a day-long ordeal composed of arguing with the TSA agents, waiting in security lines, and of course the flight itself, which was only marginally bearable because Reo insisted on buying you first-class tickets.

You spent most of it dozing, the armrest between you and Ryosuke pushed up so you could lean your head against his chest as he watched a movie. In the haze of your sleep, you could feel his arm wrapping around your shoulders, his fingers idly stroking your cheek as if that were the natural outcome, as if there was no other place that they could come to rest. It was the easiest that things had ever been between you in some time, and subconsciously, you relished in it, in the soft scent of his cologne, in the warmth of pretending like you were loved by someone again.

Reo had told you, in no uncertain terms, to not even attempt going to the baggage claim. He had contacts in the airport who would take care of it, because of course he did, and so the only thing you and Ryosuke had to do was meet him and May at the gate. You stopped in the bathroom, mostly at your insistence, so that you could freshen yourself after the long flight, which had sapped you of most of your energy despite how much of it you had spent sleeping.

“Are you nervous?” Ryosuke said as you reached the door. He held both of your carry-on bags in his hands, an amused grin on his face as you all but vibrated with every step you took.

“Of course,” you said. “I haven’t seen them in so long, and I haven’t been back home in that same amount of time. I don’t know how it’s all changed. And what if it hasn’t? What if the only one who’s changed is me?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said, nudging you in the side. “Look who it is.”

Standing awkwardly by the metal barrier separating the airport from the street in front of it, surrounded by security guards that kept the rest of the crowds at bay, was Reo Mikage. He wore a pair of khaki shorts and a polo, sunglasses perched on his head as he checked the time on the — likely expensive — watch which he wore on his left wrist.

A grin split your face, your spirit rejuvenated as surely as if you had never been exhausted in the first place. Cupping your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice, you shouted out his name with glee.

“Reo!”

The boredom dropped from his expression immediately as his head snapped up, trying to determine the source of the noise. When he locked eyes with you, he beamed so brightly that you were all but blinded by it, and then you were both racing towards the opening in the barricade where you could finally meet.

You tossed your arms around his neck as soon as you could reach him, clinging onto him tightly, suddenly and unreasonably weepy at the fact that the two of you had finally been reunited. He did the same, squeezing you to the point that you thought you might burst from the pressure.

“I can’t believe you’re finally back,” he said, letting you go and holding you at an arm’s length so that he could look you over with a critical eye. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said. “Where’s May?”

“She had to go to the bathroom,” he said. “She should be back in a couple of seconds, and she’ll probably be furious, too, considering she was really hoping she’d spot you first. I convinced her that it would be fine for her to take a moment to herself, and that it’d probably still be a bit of time before you arrived, but, uh, I guess it ended up being kind of an unfortunate coincidence in that sense.”

“What’s up, man? Congrats on the wedding,” Ryosuke said, finally catching up to you and offering Reo his hand. Reo glanced at it, and anyone who didn’t know him as well as you did wouldn’t have even noticed the way he hesitated before taking it and shaking it with the firm conviction of a businessman.

“Thanks, Kira,” he said. “You’ve been taking care of my best friend?”

“’Course I have been,” Ryosuke said, ruffling your hair. You did your best to force a laugh, not wanting Reo to have to concern himself with your wellbeing when he was about to be married. “You’ll be the one coming back to America for our wedding soon.”

“That so?” Reo said, raising an eyebrow at you. “I expect to be the first one invited to the wedding, then.”

“Was I the first one invited to yours?” you shot back.

“Er, I mean, not exactly…” Reo said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I had to tell Nagi first, since I wanted him to be my best man and had to give him adequate time to prepare for the hassle of the role.”

“Then I’ll invite May first, since she’ll naturally be my maid of honor,” you said, your stomach twisting at the mention of Nagi. “But you can be second, Reo.”

“That’s right!” a new voice said. “He had better be second, considering he sent me to the bathroom so that he could win our bet!”

And then there she was in front of you: Reo’s soon-to-be wife and your former roommate, May Ducat. Her thick brown hair was loose and wavy around her shoulders, and her peacock-feather eyes gleamed as she embraced you tightly.

“May,” you said. “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you!” she said. “I miss you every day. Mostly because you were a much better roommate than this one. He snores.”

“Hey!” Reo said, gasping in offense. “I do not.”

You dug around in your pocket before solemnly presenting her with a box of breathe-right strips.

“I know,” you said. May clapped in delight, accepting them and then turning to hand them to Reo, who took them even as he protested that he definitely didn’t need them and how would Y/N even know if I snore, anyways?

“Congratulations, May,” Ryosuke said, offering her his hand as well. May glanced at but did not accept it, opting to smile frigidly instead.

“Thank you for coming,” she said. After a discomfiting pause, Ryosuke lowered his hand, brushing it off against his pants and clearing his throat.

“I couldn’t let Y/N come alone,” he said.

“Of course not,” she said.

“It’ll be my first time meeting her parents,” he said. At this, May gave you a sad look. Though you had never told her much, she had always harbored her suspicions, always been less fond of Ryosuke than she really ought to be, considering he was typically polite to her.

“I hope it goes well,” she said. Ever the diplomat, Reo was the first to break the ensuing silence, clearing his throat.

“Alright, then! I’ll have one of my drivers take you two to your hotel room, where your things will be waiting, and then tonight, we can show you around. Y/N, they just built a new mall where that park used to be, so we can go shopping there,” he said.

“They built a mall over the park?” you said, your eyes widening at the prospect. Reo nodded.

“Isn’t it great? It’s so much more convenient than the one we used to go to,” he said. You disguised your frown with a yawn.

“Right,” you said.

“Try not to sleep,” May advised. “It’ll help you break your jet lag if you just stay up for as long as you can.”

“We’ll do our best,” Ryosuke said. May gave him a measured look before nodding slightly, turning away to continue her conversation with Reo instead of risking further discussion with your fiancé.

The hotel you were staying in was only a few streets down from your childhood home, and as with all things Reo, it was excessively opulent. The shower itself was large enough to fit at least ten people, and you spent far longer in it than was really necessary, rinsing the grime of your journey off of yourself.

“Going to sleep already?” Ryosuke said when you crawled under the covers of the bed beside him. “May recommended we wait.”

“I know,” you said with a yawn. “I’m just going to lie down and close my eyes. I’m not actually going to sleep or anything.”

“Whatever you say,” he said, patting you on the head. “I’ll do the same, then.”

Before long, the both of you had passed out.

[nerdieforpedro]

Common Ground

Part Five of A Safe Place for Us

Dieter Bravo x Aisha Smith (plus size OFC)

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Aisha and Dieter have been busy. So busy that Aisha thinks about something Dieter hasn’t requested yet. That quickly falls by the wayside as they have a conversation about what their future could look like.

Warnings: cum play, being sore, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, coherent communication (in romance? Say it ain’t so!), bad jokes (it isn’t a true Nerdie fic without a few odd references), music choices, food mention, papers

Word Count: a little under 1.8k

Notes: Is there a schedule for this series? No. Am I working on it? Yes I wrote two sentences of chapter six. 😅 If one squints, there might be a reference or two to a certain musician, which I giggled thought about taking the jokes out and then said, nah staying in. I enjoy these two idiots in love. They’re cute. 🥰 And this is a series I write for comfort and to laugh. You know, I’m between the angst and dark stuff. 👀 (My bad to Jack and Pero).

Main Masterlist/ Dieter Bravo Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

She feels she needs to tell him to maybe stay at his place for a bit. Not because of the sex, if anything, she’d want him to stay longer for that. But Aisha is sore. Her pussy is sore, her legs are sore, breasts are sore, back and the only reason her mouth isn’t is that Dieter descends on her whenever he stops by. There’s no time for her to fumble with his pants when he’s already dropped them and is working to get her wet enough to enter.

Aisha notices though, over the almost two months they’ve been at this, Bravo’s been more prone to want her to climax before he does. It’s not that she’s never seen Dieter work hard. He’s dedicated to his acting craft and his art but not like this. Not in the same level of effort she sees his leaking head smearing drops on her thighs and the look on his face tells her he’s held off just for this. Just to be inside of her and to fill her. It’s when Dieter has her put her knee on the stool that’s in front of her small kitchen island that doubles as a counter that she mentions it before he enters her for the third time today. “Dee, don’t you want me to suck your cock? Sometimes…” She wants him inside, her walls are clenching in anticipation, but she and her cunt are tired. He pauses and kisses her shoulder, Dieter likes her in simple dresses for easy access.

“You want to Ai?“ He uses his teeth to nibble at her skin, Aisha groans, feeling herself lusting to having him inside. It’s becoming a need, and if she was honest with herself, it’s been one after the first week. “Haven’t gotten you pregnant yet.” Dieter knows that Aisha may not be handling such an increase in frequency of their joined bodies well. His libido is strong and is worse now that his best friend who he’s imagined in this very kitchen and on this island so many nights, morning and in his various trailers finally gave him access to her body. Bravo wants her to crave him like he does her, and wants his Aisha ravenous for him.

“Just let me do it once-“ Her yelp cuts out midway as he enters her slowly, testing her always to make sure she’s not pushing him away. She doesn’t. Laying her forearms on the counter, Aisha uses the leverage to push back, needing more friction than Dieter’s slow pace. He always enjoys teasing her, at least that's what she thinks. Lips at the back of her neck are wet from the small beads of sweat as he quickens to match her pace. Soon just slaps of skin and grunts are heard from Dieter as Aisha calls his name in forced whispers between breaths. It’s now that he has a hold on her hips and thrusts become rougher. The Oscar winner sees Aisha lay her forehead on the cool marble as she stretches her arms out, “Dammit, god you feel amazing Dee.”

“Make up your mind Scribbles.” Dieter leans over and coos in her ear before licking it. “Your pussy’s already swallowing my cock.” He slows his pace to last a bit longer, feeling her squeeze around his shaft is a haven he wants to remain in a bit longer. Bravo isn’t able to keep it slow and speeds back up, pumping Aisha full and rolling his hips while he reaches down to circle his thumb around her sensitive bud. “Give me one more Ai. One more.” With a string a ‘fucks’ her core grips Dieter’s dick as she comes again, when he doesn’t feel her body spasming, they both slump to the floor next to the kitchen island base. Aisha’s sitting in Dieter’s lap as his now limp cock slips out of her. The sudden cold has her groan. “You’ve always got one more in you Scribbles.” Bravo laughs and so does Aisha.

“More like I’ve always got you in me Dieter.” Her comment had Dieter run his hands down her thighs, rubbing them slowly.

“That’s our goal isn’t it? Keep you full so soon you’ll have a bun in the oven. Right?” He reaches up and pats her belly, Aisha places her hands over his.

“It is. It’s just we haven’t talked about what this is going to look like Dee. Not really.”

“You want to talk about it now? Or in a few after we wash up?” Dieter stands first and assists Aisha to her feet as they make their way to her bedroom.

“Yeah we should.” After cleaning up, they sit at the edge of the bed. “So say I’m pregnant this week, what do you expect to happen Dieter?” Scratching the back of his head, Bravo knows it’s serious when she calls him his full first name.

“Assuming I’m not on location or at some press thing, I’d want to celebrate with you. Have some cake and ice cream or something.” Aisha touches his face and traces the heart that grows in his patchy beard, she starts to say something but Dieter pats her knee. “But before that, no matter if you’re pregnant or not, I want you to move in with me. I don’t want you here by yourself and I’m going to hire an assistant for you.”

“Dieter Bravo you-“

“Hear me out Aisha.” His face is stern, a look she remembers from when she first brought up going by herself to the clinic. “You’ll still be in charge of what’s going on, I just want to be sure someone’s with you and I’m tired of going back and forth between our places.”

“Dieter what’s going to happen to my apartment? I’ve lived here for years. There’s so much stuff to move.”

“I know, but I told you I was going to do this with you. So I’m going to your next appointments and we’re going to come up with a birth plan with candles, a baby pool, some Enya and-“

“I plan to have the baby in the hospital Dee. And why Enya of all the music you could possibly think of? Not even like a lofi beats or classical? Just right to Enya?” Aisha’s hand grips Dieter’s shoulder as she laughs, shaking her head at the thought.

“But you’ll live with me right? To co-parent the hell out of this kid? You know once they get old enough they’ll try and pit us against each other.” Dieter plops back on the bed, “Mama! Daddy said I could have the Kit Kats! I swear!” Aisha lays down next to him and pokes his forehead.

“I know that’s a lie. You don’t share those, ever. The kid would be in so much hot water.” Curling up on Bravo’s chest, it’s a pleasant dream that could be a reality any day now. It’s frightening but he’s willing to be by her side. “So this is most days huh? In addition to the baby making, I mean.”

“Just so you know Ai, I’ve been down to fuck you since we shared leftovers from ‘Graceland.’ The more I got to know you, the worse it got. You were always so sweet, despite those delightfully smutty books you call novels and now the latest one with some woods fairy hung dude.” Aisha pinches his tummy as he continues, “I know what sad girl music you listen to. You want me to start howling when I get home?”

“I knew you listened to his music!“ She pecks his lips, “that’s from his first album too. I’m glad you don’t howl. I don’t want to imagine it. I don’t think it would sound the same coming from you Dee.”

“Of course not.” Dieter lays back and gives Aisha a cheeky grin. “It sounds a hellova lot better to you doesn’t it Scribbles?”

“You’re impossible. And we’ve gotten way off track.” Putting her head on his chest, she listens to his heart beat, it’s steady. Dee’s relaxed. “I have an appointment with my doctor next week. My primary, the OBGYN is in two weeks.”

“You know what we should do, merge calendars so we can keep track of everything.” Dieter’s hand runs his hand along her back.

“Sounds good Dee.” Aisha agrees and they doze off.

The next morning, Dieter does manage to make eggs and toast, they eat breakfast together and Aisha is dropped off at a meeting with her editor and publisher after riding with Bravo on his way back to the set. It turns out that there have been some script changes so he has half a day instead of a full one. He thinks about popping by Aisha’s place but decides to not to.

Dieter Bravo normally doesn’t plan much, but it seems it would be best to set up a meeting or two. He needs to start planning for the future.

The supernatural romance book Dieter had playfully mocked, was well received by her publisher and editor so Aisha calls Bravo to ask when he’s going to be home, she wants to celebrate. She declined the lunch that was served and hoped he’d be up for dinner, the scent of the garlic from the bread bothered her nose. Ai figured maybe the scent was just too strong and didn’t think much of it. Dieter answered and told her to be ready to be picked up and eat some Korean BBQ. Just the thought of the food was enough to grin with excitement.

That night, they went to a small hole in the wall Korean BBQ place that Dieter had found. They laughed and ate so much beef that both of them waddled to the car full of food.

Sleep that night came easy and was a bit gassy. With the sunrise and morning coffee, Dieter presented Aisha with a thick Manila folder. She sat across the kitchen island and opened it curious at what he’s cooked up.

Turns out the Oscar winner is more clever than people give him credit for.

Chapter Four. Chapter Six

Peeps who appreciate Dieter’s “dedication” to his duties 🥵: @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @rosecentaur1916 @westside-rot

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @schnarfer @yorksgirl @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @guelyury

@readingiskeepingmegoing @gwendibleywrites @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

@harriedandharassed @baronessvonglitter

[angel-of-the-moons]

Nothing Is Lost

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Burnout, exhaustion, overworked (aren't we all?) shit gets a wee bit too relatable

A/N: Did I spend too much time looking through how the gods were worshipped? Yes, yes I did. Do I finally have a way to vent the weird feelings I have about the angry bird man? Also yes.

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Chapter 1:

Dust and Echoes

Day after day, night after night. The dreadful tedium of your life was not lost on you. The same job every night, the same work that left knots and tension in your back and muscles, your arms feeling like they were about to fall off and your feet feeling like you had holes drilled into the bottoms...

You couldn't work during the day, it was just simply not in your schedule. No matter how you tried, it was hard to stay awake during the day.

You had a severe case of insomnia, no doctor you went to (when you could afford them, which you barely could) could prescribe anything that would help you sleep. You even tried hypnosis. That was wild.

The dude said you flipped out and started talking in another language, and he was half tempted to call the church on you! That memory was always good for a laugh.

Could be worse, you supposed.

After all, your night job was cleaning a small office building (four floors, and your coworkers almost never helped) which meant mostly deserted floors and dozens of vacant cubicles.

It was kind of relaxing in a way, you could plug in your headphones, blast your favorite tunes and just go off into your own little world while you cleaned.

The world which you concocted was one many overworked and underpaid individuals such as yourself dreamt. A nice big house, food in the fridge, never having to worry about missing the next bill payment or not being able to afford insurance...

But you always had to wake up from that dream world.

You hated that part of your night.

While yes, you have always found the comfort and coolness of the night soothing, there were still dangers lurking out there in the dark.

You'd taken some half-assed self defense classes (you had to drop out because of your sleep schedule), but your skills were lackluster at best. So, you opted for your mace and taser as your trusty companions.

You'd been attacked and mugged five times in the last year and a half. You learned to stop carrying your money on you after the second time, only keeping your metro card on you.

You wondered why, why of all places, did you decide to move to New York? You were a country girl blinded by the dazzling lights, a stupid cliché trope you hated yourself for existing in.

And what did your naivete earn you? A shitty one room apartment that was barely the size of most motel rooms. The only reason you stayed was because at least your apartment had that small kitchen, compared to the rathole hostels you'd unfortunately been victim to before.

Your landlord was shrewd and strict, but at least the rent was affordable. That was the only blessing. Because your electric and other utilities were covered in your rent, you really only needed to worry about money for food. Which... you had been subjected to a rather unhealthy diet consisting mostly of tv dinners, dollar menu fast foods, and cheap Chinese takeout.

Half the time you felt like there was more to this, but logic always kicked in.

Then again, everyone felt like there was more to life when their life consisted of being a faceless, nameless, replaceable cog in the corporate machine.

But for you, even despite your logic, you just... you could feel there was more out there for you. Something meaningful.

You couldn't place your finger on it, but you just knew. It was like an itch under your skin, a tingling in your fingertips.

You were special. You just... you knew you were. Sometimes you could predict what somebody was going to say before they said it, sometimes you could fix things you'd never even looked at before, sometimes, you swore you could see things before they happened.

Oh, and then there were the dreams. Those dreams gave you the willies.

Usually in those dreams, you were floating in a black void, blinking until things came into focus. Looking down at your feet, it was like you were walking on perfectly smooth water, stars blinking to life one by one, reflected on the surface like an inky black mirror, your own reflection not able to be seen.

You would walk and walk and walk... but never reached a destination.

That's when you would feel something. Like the first winter chill creeping into the autumn breeze.

A voice. Deep, raspy... mournful.

You could never make out what the voice said, but whoever it was, they sounded lonely; almost in pain.

But then all at once you would be swallowed up into a light, almost like you were falling back to the very Earth itself, waking with a jolt, your clothes soaked with sweat, your hair dripping with it.

Yeah. Those dreams were the worst. You never felt rested when you had them...

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Today was one of the rare days you forced yourself out of bed and ventured out into the light of day. After all, humans need sunlight. And you were starting to look dreadfully pale.

You were confident you looked like some sort of ghoul, the way people gave you such sideways glances...

You shrugged your bag over your shoulders, looking into the storefronts curiously. You weren't looking for anything specific. You were aimlessly wandering at this point, really. You had two days off (only because your boss flat out told you you've hit overtime twice this month, and even he was concerned for your health) and figured, hey... may as well get some vitamin D while you're at it.

You shoved your hands in your pockets, your pinky poking through the hole on the inside of the pocket on the left side. God, you thought, I should make a trip to the thrift store today, get some decently-used jeans. Need some with less mileage on em.

The smell of incense burned your nostrils, crappy "spiritual" flute music croaking over a speaker well past its prime, wind chimes toning lazily in the breeze.

You lift your gaze and spot the shop, some kind of "witchy aesthetic" kinda thing. Pentacles, Celtic symbols, as well as some Norse-Pagan paraphernalia littered the front window. As well as the gauche lettering depicting palm readings and fortunes, and of course "magic".

Pah. Stupid.

You were about to walk by when two young women clad in black walked by, happily chirping to one another about offerings, smudgings, or... whatever it was. It wasn't your business.

As you watched them go, you turned to continue on your path, but a hand gripped your wrist.

The owner of the appendage was a woman. Her brown hair streaked with gray, her olive-green eyes seeming like they were focusing on something far away rather than at you.

"Uh..." You said, slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh! Forgive me, dear..." She laughed, taking your hand in hers and patting the back of your palm with her free hand; the thick leather bracer on her forearm was an odd fashion choice, you mused.

"Would you like to come in? I have something for everyone!" She winked.

"Er, well, I'm not really into... this whole thing." You chuckle nervously.

"Oh you don't have to be, sweetheart. No harm in looking, is there?"

"....Alright." You concede. She had a good point.

Your noticed as she let your hand go, your "funny feeling" was starting to tingle your fingertips.

And as you walked past the threshold of the front door? Your whole body felt like it was tingling.

Wall to wall, the small shop was filled with things that dazzled the senses, both visually and you were certain in other ways.

The woman hummed as she led you deeper into her shop, gesturing for you to walk into a dark room that was bordered with a beaded curtain in the door.

Yeah. That was how dumb people in horror movies got murdered. No, thank you.

"Look, I can just... uh." You try to find an excuse to turn down the woman who treated you with such polite words and demeanor.

But something about her had you so, so curious. Your "feeling" could not anticipate this woman, anything she said or did seemed a mystery to you.

"You seem tired, dear." She smiled sweetly, her hands clasped in front of her.

"I... well. I'm..."

"Overworked. I assume this is your first day off in days? Weeks, maybe?" She sighed, a sympathetic look on her face.

"How did you--"

"You are very pale, dear. Here, come. Come. Sit with me, hm?" She giggles, reaching out to bring you past the beaded curtain and into the dark room.

Her name, she told you, was Jezebel.

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Goddamn you and your curiosity. The things this woman were telling you were compelling you. It was insane, the things she knew about you. She was right on the nose.

Even about the muggings.

That was when she brought up the subject of protection. When you brought up your self defense and "weapons", she chuckled and waved it off, simply saying that she didn't mean "that" kind of protection.

When you asked what she meant by that, she walked into another room connected to the dark room you were in, the table draped in a velvet cloth with tarot cards laid meticulously set.

She came back with something wrapped in a black silk cloth.

"Here, child. Try this." She hands you whatever it is, and encourages you to unwrap it.

Wrapped inside was a small, old-looking (Ancient, if you were honest) statuette of some sort. You could tell, even with your uneducated eye, that this was done in some kind of style reminiscent of the statues of ancient Egypt that you'd only glimpsed in documentaries. At first you thought it might be Horus, but the head was all wrong...

"Pray to Khonshu, and he will protect you during your travels in the night." She said sweetly.

"I..." You can't tear your gaze away from the statue.

"I can give you prayers, incense, an altar cloth, and basic offerings to get you started, sweetheart. Wait right here."

Before you can reject her offer, she vanishes elsewhere in the store...

And before you know it, she hands you a burlap bag, putting the statue, plus the other items in the bag for you.

"I... I can't pay for this, I..." You stammer.

"Trust me, my dear. This is on the house. You need this." She winks, patting the back of your hand again.

"Now, go. Set up the altar when you get home, get some rest, and say a prayer. Do this every time you leave during the night, and Khonshu and his Fists will protect you."

Somehow, you felt compelled yet again to accept her word, leaving her shop, your brain in a fog.

As you walked, you felt something.

Like a soft voice whispering on a desert wind.

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Jezebel watched you leave, a satisfied and happy smirk playing on her lips.

Above, she heard the croaking of a crow.

She made a soft whistle and held out her arm, the one wearing the leather bracer.

And in a blur, a crow, white as snow and eyes as red as blood, landed on her arm, making very happy noises, almost singing at her, in his own way.

"Yes, I know, Zephyr." She smiled wider as she walked inside, Zephyr waddling up her arm to sit on her shoulder.

"I could sense it, too. Perhaps He will answer that girl..."

She then pulled the leather bracer off her arm, and looked at the mark on her inner wrist.

When she looked at the scales, Jezebel smiled.

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Chapter 2: Link

[mandiemegatron]

Please please please tell me your favorite Doffy headcannons I am dying to know!

Thank you for being here omg!

I LOVE U SO MUCH ANON, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS QUESTION 🤭🤭🤭💖💖💖

Header by ; @baka-tsuki // @baka-tsuki-2 ♡

『☼』 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 『☼』

♡ even though you say "I love you" first, Doflamingo always goes above and beyond to show you how much he truly appreciates your love. Showering you in gifts is number one - necklaces, mostly. Gold, sterling silver - your choice, as long as you wear it for him the second he gifts it to you. Never gaudy or over the top, more simple but gorgeous, usually accompanied with tiny precious gemstones. Your favourite one is a simple, thin gold chain with a small gold circle, the Donquixote Crest stamped onto it. [He internally loses it everytime you wear it, especially if it's out and about or to a not so important meeting. Seeing you wear his crest with pride makes him feel absolutely feral]

♡ Doflamingo always, always, always makes time for you, no matter how much he has on his plate. Whether it be first thing in the morning or right before bed, he always makes sure to kiss you at least once a day. While for some that may not seem like much, but to you, it's more than enough. You know how busy and important he is and understand why he can't be with you every second of the day, which he shows appreciation by fucking you senseless the moment he can. This man will give up a night's rest to not only fuck you but make love to you, at least as best he can. You both know he's broken, unfamiliar with love as a whole but that doesn't deter you at all, showing him just how wonderful genuine love and affection is.

♡ He loves having you in his lap when he's doing paperwork. He's got a lot of it, so be sure to bring a book. Most times, Doflamingo demands you wear a dress or skirt with no panties, so he can run his fingers over your soaked cunt whenever he wishes. Nothing makes the man cackle more than making you fall apart in his lap while doing the most boring duties, bringing you over the edge at least twice before stuffing his cock into you, roughly pressing your front into his desk as he takes you from behind.

♡ Doflamingo loves when you wash his hair and body. The man has a worship kink, deeming himself a God worthy of adoration and you are more than happy and willing to service him however he chooses. It's such a soft, intimate moment when he brings you into the tub room with him, sinking into the almost pool sized bath and pulling you against him. You cling to him and he kisses you, over and over, everywhere on your face. This is the only time you see him without his glasses, your fingers following the same routine everytime of brushing over his face lovingly, thumb gently dancing under his blind eye which he closes. It's the only time he tells you he loves you, the words soft and near non-existent. It's like he worries It's all a dream and if he says it too loud, the dream will collapse. You don't mind, simply returning kisses over and over as you tell him the same.

♡ Doflamingo gets incredibly jealous wicked fast. A lowly servant speaking to you for too long? Off with their head. A patron in the bar trying to catch your attention? He'll scoop you up and devour your lips right in front of them before ending their existence. If you try to make him jealous on purpose, he'll punish you then and there, pushing your skirt up and pressing long fingers into you, not caring if you're in public or not. You're his and his alone, and everyone is going to know that somehow. Jealousy sex is painful, almost too much and overwhelming to the point you're sobbing, begging for him to either let you cum or to stop. He'll have you over-fucked to the point you can't speak as he fucks you from behind, eyes rolled back and drooling - its his second favourite position.

♡ His favourite position is you on top, titties bouncing and fingers digging into his sculpted chest and stomach, nails leaving angry red lines over his tanned skin. Doflamingo loves to dig his fingers into your hips, leaving bruises and aching bones behind. There's nothing that fuels his ego more than seeing you unable to walk after a long session, summoning threads to wrap around you and help you walk to the washroom. He's warm and only slightly sweaty every time, his hold incredibly tight around you when you return. He loves watching you curl into him, feeling like a cage trapping a song bird, one that was made just for him.

There are few things in this world that Doflamingo truly loves - and you are one of them.

[eatabug]

— rowan faye bandy.

nicknames : wana / ro / bug birthdate & age : february 3rd ( 29 ) gender : nonbinary ( they / she ) orientation : demiromantic bisexual faction : neutral occupation : entomologist location : a tent on the edge of the woods in devil's elbow strengths :  resourceful + honest + adaptable + dauntless + independent weaknesses : reckless + stubborn + opinionated + blunt + unkempt

biography.

TW : insects / death mention 

➥ to look at them, one might be inclined to think that rowan bandy spawned straight from the crags of the appalachian mountains themselves; tough as stone and damn near as immovable when they’ve got their mind set to something, rowan can attribute their resilience to the small community carved into a corner of appalachia’s tennessee territory that raised them. a commune of sorts, this band of survivors tallied in at just a few more than a dozen, scattered in trailers and shacks that, even nearly three decades ago, appeared to be slowly getting reclaimed by the earth even as they began to expand outward — and upward, into the trees.

➥ each member of the community had a job, a responsibility, and from all of them, wana learned how to survive. they learned how to read and write, how to hunt and fish, to purify water and tell the time and orient north based solely on the position of the sun. but wana also learned how to live — how to draw and paint, to enjoy the simple pleasures like the warmth of the sun on their skin of the symphony of crickets and katydids on a hot summer night. she always needed to be doing something, always wanted to be doing something. that’s how she got her nickname, wana, as a child — “i wanna try that! i wanna do this!” 

➥ wana was always fascinated by insects — everything from their vivid colors and unusual shapes to their unique characteristics and contributions to the ecosystem — and from a young age, kept a log in which she detailed every bug she ever encountered, complete with a description and a sketch. the older she got, the more she threw herself into learning everything she could about them — discovering various mutations between species, learning which insects pollinate which plants and how the increased size of both has affected the local flora, documenting how to treat stings and bites — and her knowledge not only satisfied her own curiosity, but aided her family in both their agricultural and medicinal endeavors. she might not have had any formal training, but she was a scientist, and a passionate one at that. and though she often ventured off into the dense forestry surrounding her home, it was never in search of other people. she didn’t need them. truly, she was happy where she was and had everything she could ever want.

➥ the radroach infestation was sudden and unexpected and it ran through the small commune with all the violence and mercilessness of any true pestilence. speculating on the whys of it all is painful, but if wana had to guess, they suspect the dry rot in some of the community’s older, less-used buildings was the draw that lured them in. the doughties’ old shed should’ve been mulched two winters ago. instead, it became infested, overrun. and soon, so did they. wana was one of three members of her community that did not fall ill. at first, she couldn’t understand what sort of infection had struck them, why they’d all become so skittish and standoffish.

➥ the day she discovered the truth — the day of the hatching — is a day she’ll never forget. it happened so fast, but the vision of her family being torn apart by those larvae…. and then trying to tear her apart? it’ll be burned in her memory forever. wana was fortunate they had a bag packed for their last expedition into the woods, the very same that had gotten postponed when the infection struck their family. they ran for the hills, leaving their entire life behind them. that was four years ago, and wana has been surviving almost exclusively on their own since then.

➥ their travels led them to lean back into their research — it was all they had left, after all — and wana has spent their time traveling through appalachia, setting up camp in different locations for months at a time as they move from state to state. over the years, they’ve slowly collected the means for a respectable research tent to accompany the small one-person sleeper they live out of, a much larger structure with plenty of room for desks and tables to house the equipment they’ve either stumbled upon, traded for, or built for themself. they don’t believe in money and everything they own they’ve acquired as a gift or through the use of bartering, both with their skills and with other supplies and items they’ve come across in their travels.

➥ they’re not politically inclined nor do they want to be a soldier, so in spite of sharing the same disdain for afterglow as the silver lining militia, wana has not sought them out. instead, she simply goes on about the moral and scientific wrongs happening in afterglow laboratories to anyone willing to lend her an ear on her occasional forays into town. wana has been in the devil’s elbow for a little over two months now, and they’re just starting to settle into their camp and dig deep into the curious findings crater lake and last steps valley have to offer. 

headcanons.

➥ wana has six fingers on each of their hands, even the smallest of which have fully developed metacarpals and phalanges. at first glance, this mutation is easy to miss because of how fluidly the extra digits move along with the rest, but once you notice it, it’s almost hard to look away

➥ she can drink men twice her size under the table and has a particular taste for moonshine — and moonshine-soaked fruit, but that’s a rarer luxury these days — but there’s not a stiff drink she’ll snub her nose to, and she takes delight in finding old world bottles of tequila still containing worms

wanted connections.

➥ research partner : wana doesn’t think they need a partner, but they would be a liar to admit two heads ( or four hands! ) aren’t better than one ➥ enemies from afterglow : wana does not support the kind of genetic testing and research done on wildlife by afterglow and is adamantly opposed to the work of their research facilities in playing god with mutations ➥ the friend with the tub : wana lives outside for the most part and does not mind bathing in the river but every now and then, she could use a hot meal and a place to truly clean up and this friend’s door is always open for her — and when it’s not, she knows how to pick the lock

[maybankiara]

WHERE WE'D END UP AT THE END

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera summary: Kiara unexpectedly returns from her trip around the world with a confession for JJ. w/c: 7k a/n: au in which everything happened apart from the jiara kiss, and before the time jump, all the pogues went their separate ways. everything else is canon. pining, fluff, angst, confessions, this has got it all. masterlist | tag list read on archive of our own

He doesn’t know she’s back until he hears her voice coming from behind him. Even then, as he turns around, it’s hard to wrap his head around the fact that the person in front of him is more than a mere memory brought up by the June heat.

  Her name falls from his lips and, just like that, the Earth starts spinning again.

  For three years, JJ was the only Pogue on the island. Pope left for university and found himself a job there, staying over summer and only returning for a few days in winter to celebrate Christmas with his family. John B and Sarah decided to move to the Bahamas, permanently, away from the mess that the Outer Banks offered. Kiara decided that she wanted to see the world and then she decided to stay in it.

  Kildare wasn’t for any of them, but JJ was the only one without the option of leaving it. He settled down, instead, found work at a mechanic’s workshop and a part-time job as a bartender down at Figure Eight. Friends were scarce and fun was scarcer, yet JJ thought it to be the best turn of events – if he focused on getting money, someday he’d be able to escape, too.

  That was the plan, anyway. And now he’s at the Kook bar, reorganising the shelves because the shift is at its slowest point, and he hears the trembling voice he truthfully gave up on thinking he’d hear again.

  For all his charming mannerisms, they all seem to fall flat now. He’s just staring but his brain is unable to take in the image; a malfunction. A proper system shutdown.

  ‘I, uh… I’ll have a bit of that.’ She points at the bottle in JJ’s hands. He moves his finger a little, revealing the letters spelling out Jack Daniels: Fire. ‘Make it double.’

  All JJ manages is a meek nod and a: ‘Coming right up.’

  He turns his back to her and takes out a whiskey glass. His fingers are slippery enough it almost falls from his grip, but he holds onto it. He glances back and she’s got her eyes on him, her lips parted in a heavy sigh.

  ‘One for you, too,’ she says. There’s a ring on her finger she keeps fiddling with; it’s a new one. JJ tries not to stare at it. ‘If you’re allowed.’

  Without a word, JJ fetches another glass from the cupboard. He takes a small shot glass and lets the golden liquid trickle into it. It would be easier to have just taken the double-sized shot glass, but… he didn’t do it. He’s not stalling, it’s just more precise this way.

  JJ glances at her. ‘On the rocks or straight?’

  ‘On the rocks. It’s a hot day.’

  He turns around and opens the cupboard behind the bar, scooping up two ice cubes. Both of them go into a single glass that he hands over to her. The whiskey has a bitter smell and it just about burns his throat when he takes a sip of it.

  ‘So,’ he says, ‘you’re back.’

  Kiara Carrera’s lips relax into a smile that makes her eyes wrinkle a little. She lets out a chuckle, too, and JJ lets notes that her eyes look a little brighter now. Their colour is the same as it was when they first met as kids, but their owner is livelier. She looks a little taller, her face a little more defined, and it’s hard to believe it’s been merely three years since he’s last seen her.

  There’s still a band sitting on top of her hair, the tank top she’s wearing is in the same earthly tones he’s always known her in, and at the same time it feels as if no time has passed.

  She takes a big sip, shuts her eyes and shudders before letting out a big sigh, and chuckles.

  JJ feels the grin forming on his face. ‘You still can’t take whiskey?’

  ‘Nope. The true bane of my existence.’

  ‘Why order it, then?’

  ‘You know me,’ she says, offering a shrug. ‘I needed something strong. For the jitters.’

  ‘The jitters.’

  ‘Oh c’mon, JJ.’ Kie leans over the bar a little, just enough to give him a playful shove, smiling bright and wide. ‘I haven’t seen you in three years. It’s scary.’

  JJ quirks an eyebrow at her. The whiskey tastes a little more like cinnamon this time around and he rests his elbows on the bartop. ‘Do you find me scary, Ms Carrera?’

  She leans closer. ‘In your dreams.’

  They’re close enough that he can see her eyes aren’t fully a dark brown, but have lighter specks around the iris, looking almost like scattered golden dots. He’s seen this a million times before, but not in the last three years. It’s enough to draw a shaky chuckle out of him as he retreats, leaning his back against the wall underneath the shelves.

  ‘I’m glad to see you again, Kie,’ he admits. He can’t think of a world in which he isn’t, but he wants her to hear it, still. ‘The world looks good on you.’

  She flashes a smile, downing the last of her glass with a reaction equal to the first one. ‘You look good, too, JJ. I never would’ve thought that I’d find you here, of all places.’

  ‘In a Kook bar?’ His voice is quieter, as there’s people chatting away in some parts of the bar. If it were any quieter, he wouldn’t have risked saying it. ‘I have to assimilate so I can steal the money from the rich.’

  ‘I see you haven’t changed.’ It’s a light taunt, one that comes with a dose of admiration, and JJ happily takes it as a compliment.

  ‘They’ve got more than enough money. Put on a smile,’—he stretches his face into the kindest fake smile he can muster—‘listen to some of their troubles, and they’re at your feet.’

  ‘I’m glad that you’ve still got your charm.’

  ‘I’ve mastered it.’

  Kie rewards him with a genuine laugh, one that he hasn’t heard in too long, and he feels excitement bubbling in his chest. She hasn’t laughed quite so freely in… ever, probably. He doesn’t think the last time he’s seen her with her shoulders fully relaxed, a constant genuine smile on her face, and the ease with which she carries herself now.

  He meant it when he said that travelling the world suits her.

  ‘Anyway,’ she says. ‘I assume your customers are going to require your attention soon, and mine is required by my parents, who must be eager to see me back home.’

  ‘You haven’t been home yet?’

  ‘No.’ Her voice goes low again and her tongue runs over her bottom lip, her eyes wandering before settling back on JJ. ‘I needed a… whiskey.’

  For a moment, he thought she must’ve been as surprised as he was to find him here. If all she wanted was a whiskey and got a friend she hadn’t seen in years… But then he saw the nervousness in the gentle twitch of her lips, and the expectance of someone being in on an inside joke, and he clocked it.

  His chest heaves with a sigh, and he lets out the tension that managed to build up in the half a second his brain went into overdrive. ‘Just a whiskey.’

  ‘Just a whiskey.’

  We don’t talk about how we feel, he remembers one of Pogues saying once, when they were younger. We do things for each other and we say things that mean other things, but we’re never direct.

  It must’ve been Pope, because JJ remembers himself saying, It’s tough love, bub.

  What feels like a century later, they’re still behaving the very same way. It’s the Pogue thing. Except they’re adults now, all of them barely in contact with each other anymore, and maybe that behaviour is better left in the past.

  JJ reaches forward and covers Kie’s hand with his own, squeezing it lightly. ‘You’ve got this. If it doesn’t go well, give me a call.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Her thumb brushes the inside of his and she gives him a smile that makes him think that maybe nothing has changed, after all. ‘I’m definitely going to need a couple of drinks after that.’

  ‘My place is still back on the Cut, but I’ve got plenty of drinks for a night of catching up.’

  ‘Like the good old days,’ she says, and he echoes the words with a knowing smile on his face.

  He doesn’t care about the customers when Kie leaves. He doesn’t care about the old guy who always comes in and gives him shit for not giving him enough to drink, and always tries to get some for free – he doesn’t care about any of it. His phone is in his pocket and he only cares about when it’s going to buzz, when the second-hand watch on his wrist will show it’s 8 pm, when he’ll be able to get home and make it a little neater before she comes back.

  It’s one of his best and worst shifts. His mind keeps taking him back to her hand being in his, to their eyes locking, and he feels like he’s still sixteen, still hiding his feelings, still wishing the best for her and knowing he’s not it.

  Maybe things will be simpler now. They’re not kids anymore, and maybe that’s the one thing that will make it all more bearable.

  ★

She appears out of nowhere, unannounced, knocking on his door like she’s trying to break it down. JJ guesses it’s just her thing now.

  He opens the door and she scoots past him with a muttered thanks before her mouth starts working a mile a minute and her voice fills out the entirety of JJ’s modest apartment, and he’s a little overwhelmed.

  ‘Kie.’

  She turns on her feet, chest heaving as she catches her breath. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Calm down for a second.’ He closes the door and locks it, walks over to the living room (that is also the kitchen and the dining room and the guest bedroom) and plops down on the couch, waiting until she does the same. ‘What happened? And slow down this time so I can actually pay attention.’

  Kie nods, opens her mouth, then closes it. She throws a glance in the direction of the kitchen. ‘You want a beer?’

  ‘You’re asking me if I want a beer in my own house?’

  ‘Mhm.’ The next moment, she’s on her feet, and her head is in the fridge. She comes back to the couch with two beers, throwing one in his direction. ‘Needed one, figured you’d need one, too.’

  A sigh falls from JJ’s lips before he gets to stop it. ‘That bad?’

  ‘That bad.’

  He leans into the couch as the two open their beers and he doesn’t take his eyes off of his friend; she hasn’t started talking yet, which probably means she’s trying to think of what to say, and he likes to have a moment to prepare himself.

  When she came over for the first time, about three days ago, the two managed to mend most of what was broken by time and distance. It was a long night of catching up and he got to learn quite a bit about her adventures in Thailand and Bali, primarily, and she got to learn about what it feels like to work two jobs, one on the Cut and one in Figure Eight. Their experiences were vastly different, but they boiled to the same outcome – growing up. Understanding the world a little better.

  They’ve seen each other at least once every day since, and soon enough, it was like she never left. They went to the beach yesterday, did some surfing, then crashed a party at the Boneyard for a little bit before they ended up back at his place, both falling asleep on the stretched-out couch.

  It was like it had been before she left, but JJ knew it wouldn’t last. They aren’t teenagers anymore.

  This is why he waits for her to figure her things out, and then she spills the beans: her parents want her to stay on the island. With them.

  ‘It’s not like they don’t care about what I want,’ she says, not quite looking at JJ, but rather past him. He wonders if she’s looking at the derelict building right across the street, because that’s the only thing visible from the window. ‘They just don’t get it.’

  ‘Do you want to keep travelling?’

  Outside, a hawk chittered not far from the apartment.

  When Kie brings her eyes up to meet JJ’s, he sees the discomfort in them; the insecurity. ‘No,’ she says, quietly, ‘but I don’t know what I want. Just…’

  ‘Just not the island.’

  There’s a moment of silence. ‘Yeah.’

  JJ shuffles across the couch until his arm is over Kie’s shoulder and he pulls her into a half-hug. Her hair still smells like coconut, but also like something else, now. The same and different. ‘I get it, Kie. I really do. I would do the same if I could.’

  ‘You’re not mad?’ she asks, nestling her head in the crook of his neck; JJ tries not to shiver at the contact. ‘You will be alone again.’

  ‘I didn’t expect you to stay, Kie,’ he admits. ‘I thought you’d be around for a few days and then leave, because I know how much you hate this place. I’d never let you stay. I just— I couldn’t. It’s not right.’

  ‘I just hate it, you know. The idea of you here, all alone.’

  ‘I’m not all alone, though. I’ve got a life here. I belong here more than any of you do.’

  His hand gives her shoulder a gentle rub, and then he’s got the tips of her hair wrapped around his fingers, twirling them around. He’s not alone, he tells himself – there have been plenty of girls sharing the bed with him for the night. He talks to people at work, some people greet him on the street and he’s known them for the entirety of his life.

  He doesn’t like it here, but it’s where he’s meant to be.

  There always has to be a Maybank on the Cut.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Kie says.

  JJ doesn’t look at her, because he hears the way her voice got caught up in her throat, and he doesn’t want to risk seeing her crying. It’ll break him. ‘You don’t have anything to be sorry for,’ he tells her instead, because he has an inkling of what this could be about.

  ‘I do. We all— we all left and didn’t look back.’

  ‘Pope comes home,’ argues JJ. ‘I see him sometimes.’

  ‘Three times in three years.’

  He doesn’t say anything to that, because he doesn’t have anything to say that would make her feel better, and the last thing he wants is to make the situation worse.

  ‘It’s fine, Kie,’ he tells her. A group of people walks underneath the window and JJ feels the need to slam it shut, but then the heat would burn them alive. Even sitting so close to her is a sacrifice he’s making, because his body heat keeps going up, and he feels his fingers becoming sticky.

  It shouldn’t matter. They’ve always been gross around one another. It’s the Pogue way.

  ‘Look, I’m my own person, okay? I love the Pogues, I love our little group, but we don’t live for each other. You’ve got your life, I’ve got mine. That’s what happens when you grow up.’

  ‘You grow apart,’ she says, and the words send a lump into his throat.

  In that moment, JJ finds himself wishing he had more than Kie to hold on to. His head drops backwards, first, and he takes a deep breath as his eyes blink away the tears. He can be level-headed in tough situations. He had to learn that in the past couple of years.

  He feels Kie stiffen on his chest, her fingers tugging at one another in his lap. Usually, he’s the fidgety one. Usually, he’s the one fumbling with words. Usually, he’s the having to pull himself together.

  When he lets his eyes close and rests his chin atop of Kie’s head, it’s an instinct rather than a decision. His hand drops from her hair until he’s pulling her into himself, feeling her body wrapped up within him.

  If he could shield her from the world, he could. He can only shield her from himself.

  He damns the heat welling up in his throat and holds her close, still.

  ‘You’re always going to have a home with me,’ he tells her. His thumbs rub her skin and he feels her press into him, her body quivering ever so slightly. ‘No matter how long we don’t see each other for, or if we don’t talk in years. If we have a falling out or some other shit happens. None of that matters. If you need me, I’ll come. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be right where you can find me.’

  Kie doesn’t sob, but her body shakes and he bites his own lip. The lump in his throat let him say those words, but it’s choking him now.

  He meant every word he said, though. That’s the only thing that matters.

  (JJ isn’t quite the one for finding the words for how he feels. John B is the only Pogue who could manage that with ease, with his grandiose acts of love for Sarah and whatnot. But this is Kie – she’s been one of his best friends for years and she knows his way with words and avoiding the truth. There’s no hiding from that.

  Not like he meant to hide, anyway. He doesn’t need to tell her his heart has belonged to her for a long time now, but he can tell her she’s got a home in it.)

  Kie stirs against his chest; he sees the green shirt has turned several shades darker in tiny circles, where her head had been.

  ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  She pulls away from him, staring ahead, where the TV is propped up on a stool made from pieces of an old wooden chair that had broke when JJ first moved in. She seems transfixed on it – is this how she sees JJ, maybe? Something that was meant for a purpose it was no longer fit for, then repurposed to keep living, to keep surviving in a world that’s against him?

  Maybe that’s how she saw herself, too. JJ certainly does. She’s sturdier than most people he’s met and it’s one of the things he admires about her the most.

  JJ runs a hand along her back, rubbing gentle circles. He doesn’t think about anything other than she deserves someone to care for her. When she looks at him, there’s a smile in the corners of her lips, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

  ‘JJ?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Kie gives him a long gaze, shaking her head to herself before she parts her lips again. ‘You know how when we were younger, I said that I’d always live every day like it was last?’

  He nods. It was shortly after the fiasco with the El Dorado – he couldn’t just forget that. ‘You said no regrets.’

  ‘And when I left, I thought I had none.’ She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her fingers are still pulling at the ring – she’d got it at a monastery in Nepal, allegedly a family heirloom from one of the monks she met there. She doesn’t look at him when she speaks. ‘It was great, at first. The freedom was like fresh air. It was all I ever wanted.’

  I know, he wants to say, you’ve told me this already. But he keeps quiet, still, because her tone wasn’t light.

  ‘I got bad, though. Sometimes I would just stay up, realising how far from home I was. I just felt like if something happened to me, it would take ages to get back to my family, to you. It wasn’t homesickness, it was kind of… I was aware of my mortality in a really weird way. I thought I was okay with that before I left, I thought I’d made peace with everything.’

  He catches her glance at him out of the corner of her eye and he tries offering her a smile, but it doesn’t really work.

  She tells him, then – she tells him all of it. The loneliness, the feeling of being completely lost and misguided, to the feeling of being fooled into believing that travelling the world could let her make sense of things that confused her at home. Some of it got cleared, but most of it got more clouded, instead. There were good days, but the bad days nearly outshined the good when she’d start thinking about things.

  Kie tells the story in a hushed voice, almost as if she’s scared that the passersby could hear her words through the window, when JJ could barely hear them himself. His hand never lets go of her back, but he stops moving it and just holds it there. More than anything, he wants to wrap his arms around her, but he can tell she needs the space.

  He knows this is headed somewhere, yet the more she talks about it, the less he understands.

  Until, that is, she finally looks at him and says, ‘When things were the hardest, you were the one who got me out of it.’

 How? he means to ask, but it isn’t his turn. Kie’s eyes are pointed and she’s not finished yet. ‘Before I left, you told me you believed in me, and the whole world’s waiting for me to explore it, and it was the only thing that I could think of and fall asleep after it. I kept wishing you’d come with me, instead, and I couldn’t stop wondering why I hadn’t asked you to come.’

  ‘Even if you had, it wouldn’t have been an option,’ he reminds her. ‘I was broke, had to stay here. I’m not the guy who goes backpacking around the world.’

  ‘What if you are?’ she asks and for the first time, JJ thinks he can really hear the lump in her throat, the stiffness of her voice. ‘What if we could’ve… I was an idiot when I left, JJ.’

  JJ aches to lean over and reach her, yet he keeps himself glued to the couch. What do you say to this? How do you act? His heart keeps beating in expectation and not even the chatter outside the window can do anything to help.

  ‘I was confused,’ she says. ‘I was a kid. I was dumb. I was running away from everything this place had to offer, and I didn’t realise that included you.’

  ‘You didn’t run away from me, Kie.’

  ‘What if I did?’ She looks at him and he sees determination in her eyes, in the tightness of her lips, in the way her neck tenses. ‘I kept feeling and thinking things I couldn’t explain and definitely shouldn’t have been feeling. Travelling the world sounded better than trying to confront all of it. Except that backfired, because I had to stop travelling because I couldn’t keep ignoring it.’

  Here’s the thing with the Pogues – they don’t say what they mean.

  JJ feels the weight of her words, but can’t quite piece them together to solve the puzzle. He stares at her in expectation, instead, waiting for something that doesn’t come. Her eyes are trained to his and her lips slightly parted, as if she’s waiting on him, too.

  JJ gets up and grabs himself a beer from the fridge, throwing her one, too. He walks a few steps to the left until he’s in the kitchen area of the room, and grabs a bag of heavy salted crisps from the cupboard. He hands it to her and she takes it without a word, no longer looking at him, but still expecting. Waiting.

  They’re waiting on each other. Oddly, JJ feels like they’ve been doing the dance far longer than he thinks.

  ‘I don’t know what you want me to say, Kie.’

  She pulls her lips into her mouth, before saying: ‘Anything.’

  And JJ feels a new weight on his shoulders.

  Kiara Carrera has always fit in his life. She has never been the central point herself, but the Pogues were his life for the majority of it, and she was one of them. A life without them, and without her, wasn’t much of an exciting life.

  He remembers when she first came and he kept calling her the Kook princess, until Sarah Cameron turned out to be everything they joked Kie was. He always thought it was odd how easily she fit with the three boys, with the Cut – if someone looked at her, with her little headband, cropped tops and tie-dyed everything, they’d never guess she grew up on Figure Eight.

  She fit in his apartment, too. Somehow. Another crop top, another pair of jean shorts, another headband keeping her hair out of her face. She’s changed but she hasn’t. And this is a place that is falling apart, costing just enough so he can call it a decent apartment and still get to save for something better, eventually.

  Not that there is anything remotely better on the Cut. JJ likes to dream, too.

  And she’s in a lot of those dreams.

  ‘Kie, I just— I don’t know what you want me to say. Or do,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  So much, is the answer, but so is nothing.

  He’s seen the look on her face before, more than once, in memories that kept him up at night. The replay of the curve of her Cupid’s Bow, of the way her lips are slightly pursed, in the tremor he can see from her baby hairs shaking.

  Kiara, looking at him like there’s nothing else worthy of looking at.

  JJ puts his beer on the counter and walks up to her, cups her face, and kisses her.

  ★

As a man stumbles his way out of the bar with one of JJ’s coworkers holding a firm hand on his back, JJ finds himself wondering why in the hell he’s decided to work in the one place that alcoholics frequent, and isn’t a casino. He’s thought about this before and the conclusion is always the same – it’s about seeing that people can get drunk, abuse alcohol, and still be semi-decent people.

  Even from his grave, Luke Maybank’s hold on his son never wavers.

  It’s what he thinks about when things are shit. When he’s shit. And without hearing from Kiara for nearly two whole days now, JJ’s legs shake with every step he takes.

  He thinks that seeing her would fix everything, but when she finally walks into the bar, his knees threaten to give in.

  She calls his name and he glances around, but his boss is elsewhere, so he tells her to sit down.

  ‘Whiskey again?’

  Kiara shakes her head.

  ‘A beer, then? I’ve got your favourite.’

  ‘I’m here for you, JJ.’

  He pours her some of her favourite beer, anyway. On the house. ‘My shift finishes in an hour. You can wait, or I can pick you up—’

  ‘I’ll wait.’ She takes the beer and puts a few bills on the counter. ‘I’ll be in the back.’

  Her steps are steady and precise, and she sits down in the far back booth as if that was her intention all along. JJ knows her well enough to know she’s terrified, because Kiara is never this precise unless she fears that one wrong movement will crumble her.

  He makes a note of not holding anything against her, whatever it is she’s here to talk about. He takes the bills she left, too, and slips them in his pocket, to return them to her later.

  ‘On the rocks,’ says a man to his right—a regular—and JJ’s back to being the bartender.

  Every so often, he feels Kiara’s eyes on his back. Even as he speaks to the customers, he thinks of last night, of the way her limbs felt tangled with his. He looks a man in the eye as he charges him and all sees is her eyes rolling in pleasure, her mouth full of little sighs, little gasps.

  His hands drop to the wooden bartop and he feels his palm flat against his wall, stabilising him as he thrusts. Kiara’s moans and wandering hands. Kiara’s mouth where he needed her most, his own making her feel good in return.

  ‘You’re two dollars short,’ says the customer.

  ‘Sorry.’ JJ reaches into the till and takes out two dollars. ‘It’s been a long day.’

  ‘Sure seems like it. Look after yourself, kid.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Yet all he can think about is how it’s the best night he’s had in years, if not ever.

  Kiara still sits in the back booth, killing time with her phone and occasional glances at JJ. There’s nothing on her face to show she’s going through the same, but JJ bets she is – he knows her well enough.

  Even though she rushed out in the morning with her hair still a mess from his hands running through it, he knows it was just as earth-shattering for her as it was for him.

  JJ bids his farewell to his coworkers. They’re good kids – even though JJ’s only a year or two older, he feels like there’s a decade between them. They’re Kook kids, somehow unaware of his past, and JJ envies their innocence.

  Kiara’s still on her phone when he approaches her. ‘Fancy getting out of here?’

  She slips her phone into her pocket and is leading him out of the joint before he wraps his head around it. ‘I want to go somewhere.’

  ‘Somewhere as in a specific place?’

  ‘Yeah. You got your bike?’

  JJ taps her shoulder, pointing at the employee car park. In the middle of it is his trusted dirt bike, one that’s gotten him out of shit more times than he’d like to admit.

  She lets out a breathy laugh. ‘I missed that thing.’

  ‘It missed you, too.’

  They hop on like they’ve done a million times before. Kiara wraps her arms around his waist with no hesitation and he feels her cheek pressed against his shoulderblade – if he wore a tank top, they’d be skin against skin.

  Again.

  JJ revs the engine. ‘Where to, Ma’am?’

  ‘The Chateau.’

  All JJ tries to focus on is her arms around him, but he shudders anyway.

  Nobody’s been to the Chateau since the fire all those years ago. JJ’s hardly even thought about it. With no one to look after the place, the wooden boards would’ve turned to ruin by now. All the Pogue memories they made would be turned to dust – does he even remember them, anymore?

  Kiara squeezes him a little harder – just enough to hold him together to the Chateau.

  As he thought, the place is a ruin.

  ‘It’s kind of beautiful,’ Kiara says.

  He looks at her as if she’s crazy—she must be—but then he sees the admiration, the longing, the nostalgia in her eyes, and tries to see it the way she does. Vines climb what’s left of the house and there’s moss where windows would’ve been. The ash has been washed away by rain and he can see traces of the original colour on the surviving base.

  Kiara takes a few steps forward until she’s standing on the ruin, balancing herself with a smile. ‘This is where the front porch was.’

  JJ just stares. She doesn’t stop, though – she walks to the left and says that’s where the swing used to be, and that was where the couch was, and suddenly JJ starts seeing all those things, as if someone were building the house from the ashes.

  He joins in on the game. ‘That’s where I used to sleep. That’s where Pope got hit in the head by a can that one time.’

  The Chateau came to life and the memories rushed back as if they were never gone. Within minutes, the two were laughing as if no time had passed. As if things hadn’t turned to ruin and as if they hadn’t grown older. Grown apart.

  It comes to an end, though. JJ offers her a hand to come down but she does it herself.

  ‘Oh,’ she says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I forgot about this.’

  He walks up next to her and sees it: the tree with John B’s name carved into it. A memory from a bad time – when they thought they’d lost him. When it was just JJ, Kiara and Pope. Left to fend for themselves, not knowing whether their friend was alive or dead.

  JJ swallows the lump in his throat. His arm finds Kiara’s shoulder and he pulls her closer, and she wraps both arms around his waist.

  ‘I’m glad that wasn’t the end,’ he says. ‘But it was hell. Thinking he was lost.’

  ‘We nearly lost him,’ Kiara says in the softest voice.

  ‘But we didn’t. That’s all that matters.’

  He doesn’t want to say that in a way, they still lost him – to Sarah and the Bahamas, like they lost Pope to college.

  JJ laughs a dry laugh. ‘Never thought we’d be the last two Pogues.’

  ‘With a burnt-down Chateau behind our backs.’

  ‘Exactly. Funny how life turns out.’

  Her hands drop back to her pockets; the absence of her body against his feels like an unwanted breeze.

  She looks at him like she’s about to say something. JJ decides against interrupting, and instead looks towards the pier – there’s no light on it and it’s already getting dark, but he wants to go there. Get away from the Chateau and its scorched past.

  So his clammy hand takes hold of Kiara’s and they walk down the pier, listening as the wooden boards creak. Some things remain the same. Kiara squeezes his hand.

  She doesn’t let go of it when they reach the end, with nothing but marsh in front of them. Sun sets on the other side of the property and they’re watching the sky bask in shades of deep blue, and JJ sits down with Kiara following suit.

  Her fingers tap the wood. ‘I don’t want to live with regrets.’

  ‘Okay?’

  ‘Is it? What we did last night?’ she asks, facing him straight-on. ‘A regret?’

  ‘No.’ JJ doesn’t even hesitate. ‘It was the one thing that could never regret.’

  She smiles, ever so slightly, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease. Carefully, he covers her hand with his own, and she lets him take it into his lap.

  ‘Kie.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  JJ takes a deep breath.

  He’s thought about this moment for a long time – over a decade, really. Almost two. He’s thought about what he’d say, given the chance, and there was a grandiose speech somewhere in the back of his mind… but this is different.

  He never accounted for sleeping with Kie before confessing his feelings.

  ‘You know when I said I’d be there when you came back? When you were leaving?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I meant every word,’ he says. He gives her hand a squeeze and musters up a tiny smile, but he still can’t look her in the eye. ‘I made the promise to wait for you. Hell, I would’ve waited for you till the world ended if I had to. And I still will. I always will.’

  His eyes finally meet hers and – she’s crying. Moonlight reflects off the tears and he’d call her beautiful if he wasn’t in the middle of this.

  Of them.

  ‘My home is with you, Kie. I can stay on the island for as long as I want, but if you’re not here, it’s not…’ He brings his hand to her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb. ‘No matter how many times you leave, I’ll be there. Ready to take you back.

  He watches the shine in her eyes drop to his lips and then he’s got her own pressed against them, her hands holding his face. It’s gentle, unlike the passionate kiss they had the other night, and he feels her breath on his lips. She moves back, but her hands cradle his face, still.

  ‘How did it take us this long to get here?’

  JJ laughs. ‘I was just another guy, Kie. You had half the island trying to get with you.’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  ‘It is,’ JJ says. ‘I just didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want you to have the burden of rejecting me, because our friendship would’ve… I don’t think it would’ve lasted. And I’d rather have you as a friend than tell you have I feel you and lose you.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have lost me,’ she whispers. Her thumb glides across his cheek and he leans into her palm.

  ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘You never tried.’

  JJ sighs, then kisses the inside of her palm. ‘Even if I did, Kie, I was the guy from the wrong side of the island. A Maybank, at that. I wouldn’t have been good enough. You deserved better than whatever I could’ve been.’

  She shakes her head to the point he feels her whole body trembling with the movement. ‘I never thought that way, JJ.’

  ‘But I did,’ he says. ‘And even if you liked me back, I wouldn’t have been able to get over that. I wouldn’t have thought that something that good could happen to someone like me.’

  Her hands are gentle and he tries to relax, even though his own are gripping the back of her shirt.

  Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots. The water is still, but he can hear movement – despite the death of the Chateau, life around it went on. JJ finds some comfort in that – their lives, too, went on.

  One of Kiara’s hands is dropped to his thigh, caressing it. ‘I wouldn’t have rejected you, you know.’

  JJ lets out a shaky breath. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  He laughs, dropping his head. ‘Well, I feel like a fool now.’

  Kiara laughs, too, and he wishes he could bottle the sound. Her hand reaches under his chin and pulls it up. ‘We got there in the end.’

  And then she’s kissing him again, with her arms wrapped around his neck.

  JJ’s finally getting to kiss Kiara with no fear, no holding back, no worries that they’d come to regret it, and the world doesn’t stop. The world keeps spinning, and somehow that’s even better.

  If you told JJ from a decade ago that he’d be making out with Kiara at the Chateau pier, he would’ve called you crazy. But she’s in his hands, her skin is on his fingertips as he slips his hand underneath the back of her top, and she tastes like her favourite beer. She’s warm and smells lovely and her teeth are grazing his lip and god, JJ feels like he’s won the lottery.

  He wants this. All of it. Everything.

  He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to stop kissing her and have to go back to his house, to his two jobs, to living the measly life he’s had for the past few years – how could he do that, after getting a taste of what he could’ve had? Of what could’ve been?

  So kisses her fervently, ferociously, like a starved man.

  He’s not letting her go this time. Not without knowing she’s coming back.

  His hands are firm as he pulls her even closer, his kisses shifting to her neck, her hands reaching under her shirt. His skin is on fire with her touch and he craves it, and he nearly pushes them over the pier as he tries to get her to lie down.

  ‘Kie,’ he breathes between the kisses to her stomach, making his way up her chest.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I fucking love you.’

  JJ kisses her before she gets a chance to respond, and he knows this is a drug he’s already addicted to.

The sun is long gone and JJ holds Kiara’s hand as they sit on the pier. They’ve both come back to their senses and the world is quiet now, patient. Falling asleep. Kiara’s head is leaned on JJ’s shoulder and his arm is wrapped around her waist, his thumb caressing the skin just underneath her waistband.

  For the past half-hour or so, they’ve been talking about all the times they missed the signs. Both of them did, even though JJ thought he’d made it obvious – from little comments to grand gestures that were misread, and it’s hilarious, now. It wouldn’t have been if things turned out differently, but neither of them goes there.

  They talk about their lives, too. JJ tells her more about her coworkers and his appreciation for them and she listens, not interrupting him once.

  JJ kisses the top of her head, still in disbelief that he can.  ‘What’s on your mind?’

  She doesn’t respond right away. She nuzzles into him, instead, and he spreads his palm to cover as much of her as he can.

  ‘I’m staying on the island,’ she says.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m staying here. On Kildare.’

  ‘Why? Kie—’

  ‘Listen.’ She moves away to look him in the eye – even in the darkness, JJ can see the determination. ‘I want to be with you. That’s all. But I’m not— I know how much the island means to you. I can’t take that away from you. I won’t. If that means staying here—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘JJ—’

  ‘I said no.’ He runs his hands through his hair, tugging it slightly at the ends. ‘Kie, this is not happening. You’re being ridiculous. I stayed behind because I never had a reason to leave. Because everyone else left, and someone had to stay behind, for when you’d come home. I promised to be here.’

  He cups her face and looks her straight-on, not caring about the wetness underneath his fingertips. ‘The island isn’t a home, Kie, not if you’re not here. You are.’

  All she manages is a whisper of his name. He kisses her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, her lips. She says his name again but he shakes his head, kissing her once more.

  ‘Wherever you go, I’ll follow.’ He kisses her again. ‘If you’ll let me. If you don’t go where I can’t follow.’

  ‘I would never,’ Kiara says, and he’s kissing the salt on her lips. ‘But your life—’

  ‘I’m tired of the island, anyway. I never had to reason to leave but now I do, and I’ve got money saved up, and I’m ready, Kie. I’m ready to do this.’

  She looks at him and she’s smiling again, even though her cheeks are glistening; he resists the urge to kiss them dry. ‘You’re ready?’

  ‘You took a leap of faith all those years ago and it led you here,’ he says, smiling right back. ‘This is my leap of faith.’

  Kiara wraps her arms around him and curls into him; JJ knows she can hear his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest and doesn’t care.

  This was his biggest leap of faith. He’d never in a million years he’d be here, so who’s to say anything else he’s believed in is certain, either? He’s got friends and a life on the island but he’d never be anything but a Maybank here, with scolding looks waiting for him at every corner. If he left—with Kiara—he’d get to be more. He’d get to choose.

  Kissing Kiara was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Anything else… It only seems natural to go where she goes. To never have to wait for her again but if he has to, he will. Forever, if that’s what it takes. He’s already done the scariest thing, so why not do this, too?

  ‘I love you, too, JayJ.’

  And just like that, JJ’s future rewrites itself.

[awrldalone]

4th September 2023

Today I finished moving into my new apartment. It took a few days, but now I think I have finally settled. A lot has happened in the months since my previous entry, almost a whole year has passed – I stopped writing because everything felt so repetitive, and constantly talking about it made me feel stuck in this murky whirlpool of cold days and aimless studying. I was drowning in myself, repeating the same words, complaining about the same problems. Endlessly. 

I felt like a stick of wood stuck in the river current, an abandoned lighthouse in the storm.

Typing does not come as easy now. Documenting everything paralyzes me. Part of me feels betrayed: how dare I write about what I did today when there is no record of yesterday, of the months from February to August? I dare.

I visited a Musée Cernuschi today. It is an impressive collection of Asian art, mainly from China and Japan and Vietnam, collected by one of those nineteenth century rich French men. The sheer size of some of the sculptures stunned me. An extremely detailed bronze dragon, which was an incense burner, a winding tiger covered in some golden metal and an enormous statue of buddha got all of my attention, but the pottery was also, simply, pretty. Mundane things have a right to be pieces of art – in an ideal world a small bowl should be no less beautiful than Botticelli's Madonna della Melagrana. For this reason I have been struggling to buy things, stuff for my apartment. 

It's a small room at the sixth floor of a beautiful old building, no elevator. I can see the roofs of Paris from my window. I am living in Paris now and it feels... odd. Some might say it feels like a dream, but everything feels so real, material, concrete. It's not perfect, and i know that living here will be hard, but it's better. 

Moving has not gone smoothly, I had to take care of a lot of things, like signing an electricity contract and changing the washing machine and cleaning for hours, but now I'm here, on my bed, listening to music from my phone and trying not to use up all my internet data before I get WIFI installed. 

–

February I got back together with my boyfriend. Everything is still so complicated, but right after I went back to Maastricht I left, without telling anyone, not even my parents, and I flew all the way to Lyon with only a few sweaters and my history of law textbook in my bag. I spent a few days with him, and everything was perfect again.

Then, during carnival we went to the mountains together. He tried to teach me how to ski, and I failed miserably, falling in the snow countless times. His parents own a little apartment, furnished with a warm wood that makes it feel smaller than it is, but never claustrophobic. He got sick and I played doctor, but it was all just an excuse for him to skip his classes and for me to stay at his place. 

In March, it was his turn to come. It was a snowy month, cold, not much happened– he stayed over for a weekend. I installed a DS emulator on his laptop and we played Pokémon instead of studying, and I started doubting everything again. I always doubt everything. I still don't know if it's meticulousness or an unnerving inability to let myself have good things. We made chocolate covered strawberries, but the chocolate was not tempered and the fruit was wet. 

We saw each other about once a month. My old glasses broke as I picked them up after having washed my face. The frame split without a word or a warning, and one of the lenses fell to the ground.

Once, in April, he came to Venice as I went back home for a few days during Easter. At the end of the month I went all the way to Lyon by bus and train, stopping in Lille for a few hours. Lille is a peculiar city, it feels more Belgian than French, the only way to describe it is a city proud to have been built at the border between two countries. 

After my university's MUN, in May, I took the bus again to Lille, and the train again to Lyon, because M.'s university was having an end of year party. Then, we did not see each other for a long time. I got into Sorbonne. I was waitlisted at first, and I spent a few days biting my nails at the library, among all the medicine students. 

I took a train to Paris in June to look for an apartment. I spend a few weeks between Venice and Rome with a Korean friend of mine. I travelled through central Italy – Assisi and Firenze and Siena – with some friends. 

A lot happened. A lot. But if I started writing down everything I would not be faithful to time. It irks me to see that the most eventful moments have been centered around my relationship. I am my own person, and the passage of my time should not be dictated by kisses. Love cannot be my metronome. I am not sure if I am happy to be in a relationship: Ce. and I talked about this a few weeks ago, in Florence, and we both agreed that making decisions while in high waters is always a bad idea. She was also in high waters, with her mouth under the waves. I need to let things fall into place before I can understand my feelings fully. Perhaps writing about them will help clear out my head. Perhaps I can't just wait for things to sort them out by themselves, I need to keep unraveling this ball of yarn just to roll it back up. 

Ago ergo sum. Our mandate is to create. 

-c.

[genhernandez]

Hey, look! It's GENEVIEVE HERNANDEZ. Did you know they WORK as a LAWYER at LEGAL LIGHTHOUSE ? I guess they're from NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK and have been in town for TWELVE MONTHS , living in HAWTHORNE HIDEAWAY. I also heard they're a little HARDHEADED, but also very GRACEFUL which definitely makes sense.

Born in the "city that never sleeps" to District Attorney Andre Hamilton and renowned stage actress, Eileen Debose, there was no doubt in the world that their little Genevieve would grow up to be anything less than 'ordinary'. Contrary to the stereotype place on those living in the dual-arenas of politics and the arts, Genevieve couldn't have asked for a more picture-perfect childhood. With no other siblings in tow, she was very easily the apple of her parents' eyes, especially her father's who always saw her as his perfect equal. The pair were inseparable, always going on trips together and sharing too many inside jokes, much to the amusement of the rest of the family.

It wasn't until Andre was let go from his esteemed position, after a string of scandals and allegations, that things weren't as idyllic as they first appeared. Turning to the only solace he could find; a bottle of aged whiskey or two, the Hamilton patriarch was a shadow of his former, doting self. The vocal battles between Genevieve's parents seemed to become a part of their almost daily routine. The fights always ended the same — with her father, regretting the venom in his words and promising to be better and her mother, tired and weary, vowing to leave. Months passed until it wasn't hard for the littlest Hamilton to feel like the loneliest girl in the world, immediately jumping into her studies as a means to escape.

College gave her a means to both hide away from the world and learn about it. She would spend most of her collegiate hours stalking the library's vast, spreading shelves in the hopes of somehow outdoing her father's legacy as well as dulling the darkness his downfall had caused. It was on a dreary Tuesday afternoon and on her usual quest, Genevieve tripped and fell, quite literally, head over heels for someone who looked unusually out of place amongst the law books of Honoré and Dickens. Shaking hands, he introduced himself as Cristian Hernandez.

With his cool, calm exterior, Genevieve was immediately entranced by his surprisingly gentle demeanour. To her, his outward features juxtaposed those inside, to her, he was exactly what she needed. Piece by piece, he collected her, he made her see her worth and seemed to love every inch of her and they were intoxicatingly happy. Naturally with this new and exciting plans for the happy couple; marriage, babies, careers. Months passed before the young moved into a small, shoebox-sized apartment, Genevieve could make peace with her decision of falling so hard and fast in love and she had to quickly as without a word as another wrench would be thrown into the works.

Sure enough, there came a call from her mother, her voice barely above a whisper and her tone mournful. It was her father. Despite his best efforts to make amends and cut back on the drinking for his family, it was his heart that finally betrayed the rest of his body and her mother found him in his favourite armchair, having passed away in his sleep.

Since her father's funeral, it seemed as if her life had changed forever. She had never felt alone yet so together with her family and Cristian by her side. They'd come through so much together, good and bad, and she was sure he was 'the One'. So it wasn't much of a surprise to anyone when wedding bells sounded and she could finally take his last name.

Before arriving in the picture-perfect town, Genevieve and Cristian had tried everything to finally achieve their goal of becoming parents and raising a family of their own, with no success until the couple decided to take things easier and not think about it for a little while. Sure enough, those little pink lines gave them everything they could possibly imagine and they were soon blessed with a beautiful baby boy, Samuel. Four years later, and completely surprised once again they were lucky enough to become parents again to another son, little Marcelino.

With her career flourishing and her family thriving, Genevieve couldn't ask for a happier, more picturesque town for her boys to grow up in. Though she can't mistake the feeling of wanting to expand their brood a little further, perhaps with a little girl like herself, who is the apple of her father's eye.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Red, White and Blue

Steve Rogers x plus size reader x Clark Kent

DC Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Steve Rogers and Clark Kent fall for the same girl, which golden boy will win her heart?

Warnings: not at all accurate medical descriptions, SMUT, little bit of angst, rivalry, so much fluff, mutant!reader, d/s dynamics, colour system, little bit of breeding kink, praise kink, little bit of degradation, unprotected sex (reader is on bc), two ds in one v, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering

Minors DNI

WC: 5.3k (I’m sorry, got carried away a bit)

It was the beginning of a new era, the Justice League and the Avengers had joined forces in an effort to create a safer world. It had been months in the making, with Steve Rogers and Kal-el leading the charge, each determined to make a group of superheroes that could help not only the world but also each other. It was no secret that each team on their own were struggling to keep up with the increased number of villains that seem to keep coming out of the walls. 

Steve and Kal had become fast friends, their own interests overlapped. Which caused Batman and Tony an extreme amount of headaches with the two heroes fan-girling over each other. They were evenly matched in everything, Superman’s strength was only overcome by Captain America’s determination (or stupidity as Bucky called it). The pair blended so easily, it was clear to see that nothing could come between them.

Until she arrived.

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With more fighting and battles, came more injuries, and after an incident where Clint nearly died while he and Diana were undercover, the team decided that they needed a healer.

Charles Xavier had recommended a young woman nicknamed “Apollo”. Her healing abilities worked quickly and could fix almost any ailment. Bruce Wayne had gone and picked her up from her apartment in Winchester county, New York. The car ride to the manor had been quiet, a mutual respect already in place between the pair. 

“So um, how many people are part of your team?” Her voice was soft, inviting but he could sense the power behind it. “There’s a lot if I’m being honest, probably too many. The Justice League is significantly smaller than the Avengers. We are only made up of Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Aquaman, and Cyborg. The Avengers have almost three times that amount.” Her eyes went wide. “I don’t think I can heal that many people!” He chuckled. “No you don’t. A lot of people don’t actually need healing like Superman or Wonder Woman. You’ll only really need to deal with the non-immortal, non-superhuman people.” “Like you?” She raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I will definitely need some healing.” She smiled and they settled back into silence.

Bruce opened the car door for her once he pulled up to Wayne manor. “We only have the Justice League here today, you’ll be able to meet the Avengers later on. I thought it was a good idea to do the small group first.” Y/N smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you, I don’t know if I could’ve handled that many new people at once. It’s bad enough when new students arrive at the school. Wow, this place is incredible!” 

“Thank you Ms Apollo, although it is no thanks to all the superheroes that come through and destroy everything.” An older man had greeted them in the entryway, glaring playfully at Bruce. “You can just call me Y/N, Apollo was just a stupid nickname a friend of mine gave me and I haven’t been able to shake it.” She took the man’s hand. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth.” “It’s lovely to meet you Alfred!” “All of the League are in the meeting room, if you would follow me.”

Clark was anxious about this healer they were bringing in. It was always tough adding a new person to the mix, all the trust involved in keeping their secret identities a secret, but they needed a healer desperately. He heard Bruce and Apollo enter the manor and braced himself when they rounded the corner into the room.

She didn’t look threatening. She was small, her e/c eyes were kind, her thick stomach and thighs gave her a soft appearance, inviting. She shyly waved at them. “Hi! I’m Y/N, you don’t need to call me Apollo, I find it a bit stupid actually. I feel like my name should’ve been Artemis, she’s cooler anyway.” Diana smiled brightly. “You are most certainly right!” She brought the shorter girl into a warm hug, “I like her.” Y/N’s face heated. 

Arthur laughed, also pulling her into a hug. “Welcome to the team.” She beamed, Y/N knew Arthur was going to be one of her favourites, he reminded her a bit of Alex. Barry rushed over and quickly shook her hand. “Why is your name Apollo?” “Apollo is the god of medicine, he was the first doctor. And considering my abilities, it’s fitting.” “Can you show us!” He was practically vibrating with excitement. “None of you look injured though, and I don’t want to hurt someone just to show off.” That made Clark’s anxiety ease a bit.

“I got stabbed last night, you could use that.” Bruce lifted his shirt, making Y/N avert her eyes from his strong physique. “Um yeah, let me…” Her voice trailed off as she touched the cut delicately, the skin weaved itself back together and after a few seconds, it was good as new. “How exactly do your abilities work?” Bruce asked as he lowered his shirt again. “Well I absorb other people’s injuries, so they appear on my body and my super healing fixes them really quickly. See?” She lifted her own shirt, and in the exact place where Bruce was cut, there was a bleeding stab wound that was quickly healing. “Doesn’t that hurt?!” Barry touched the cut. “Oh yeah like a bitch but the pain goes away pretty quickly once I’m healed.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” Bruce’s arms were crossed, he looked like a concerned father. Y/N shrugged. “Yeah it can be, especially if the injuries are more severe. The worst one I’ve ever healed was a kid at the school that fell while training their flying abilities and broke a lot of bones. I was in bed healing for two days after. And because of my super-healing, I can’t take pain medications so it wasn’t a great few days.” “Then why would you heal people if you just end up in so much pain?” Clark had finally stepped forward. She stuttered for a moment, he could hear her pulse race as he got closer, which made him smirk a bit.

“Well when I heal people, I’m only in pain for a short amount of time but if I left them, they would be in pain for a lot longer, possibly the rest of their lives if they did. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew there was something I could’ve done to help.”

“I have a feeling you’ll get along great with Supes over there.” Arthur chuckled, making Clark blush and Y/N giggle.

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“Alright kids, we got the approval from the JL for the new healer. The cheap version of me is sending her over today so we can get to know her.” Tony pushed his sunglasses back up his nose and leaned back into his chair, pleased with himself. “You know we’re supposed to be making a good impression, she is the person that makes sure we live.” Natasha said while fiddling with her knife. “What time is she supposed get here?” Steve was leaning against the door frame, his beard neatly trimmed, which had gotten lots of teasing from Bucky, ‘who are you trying to impress punk’. “She should be here now.”

“A car has just pulled up boss. Apollo has been safely delivered.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped up. Pietro zoomed out of the room, the others following closely behind.

“Thank you so much for driving me Bruce, you didn’t have to do that.” Y/N took her bag from Bruce. “It was my pleasure Y/N. Besides it kept me out of the office for a few hours.” He smiled and kissed her cheek as a silver blur stopped right next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Hello Dragă!” He lifted one of her hands to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. Bruce just rolled his eyes. “I’ll get going, but give me a call anytime. The zeta tubes between the compound and the manor should be set up soon so you won’t need to drive back and forth. Good luck with these guys.” She gave him a brief hug before he stepped back in the car and drove off.

Y/N turned and smiled at the blonde man, raising her hand to shake his own. “Y/N.” “Pietro! Are you being rude!” A red haired woman stormed towards him, grabbing his ear and dragging him away. “Wanda! Let me go!” They began to shout at each other in a language she didn’t recognise. “I’m sorry about those two, they’re twins.” A 6’4 dirty bland man with a beard, who had reached to take her bag, was standing right beside her. “Steve.” His hand engulfed hers, sending a shiver down her spine, making her squeak before answering. “Y/N.” Steve smiled brightly and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. 

She was fucked.

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“Lady Bones you’re needed in medbay.” The announcement came on as Y/N was sparring with Natasha. She pulled off the boxing gloves as she ran through the facility, not caring that he was only in workout shorts and a sports bra. She burst through the medical wing doors, seeing Steve laying on one of the metal slabs made her heart stop.

“What happened?” She asked as she hurriedly washed her hands before approaching the soldier and beginning to pull off his suit. “A building fell on him.” Bucky grunted, arms crossed over his chest, obviously pissed off. “I need to assess the damage before I can heal him. Could you bring the X-ray over please?” 

“Why do you need the X-ray?” Bucky was busy trying to lug the big machine over to Steve. “If I don’t know the extent of the injuries and I just go in to heal him, then I can really hurt myself and end up not being able to save him. Just put it over here, thanks.” She prepped the machine and had Bucky stand behind her. 

“It looks like he’s got quite a few broken ribs, fractured skull, and most likely some internal bleeding. You can put this back now, I’ll start healing him. Could you grab that chair, I don’t want to accidentally faint.” He placed the chair behind her and she placed her hands on Steve’s chest, ignoring the warmth coming from him that made her heart beat loud in her ears. The door opened again and Superman strode into the room, obviously distraught. “Is he doing alright? I couldn’t get to him in time.” “Yeah, he’ll be ok, Apollo’s fixin’ him up.” Buck sat at Steve’s bedside, watching Y/N carefully. 

Clark looked down at her in admiration. He could see the pain on her face, her eyes screwed shut, but she kept going, even when her pulse got shaky and her breathing became laboured. He rushed forward as her knees shook and she began to fall. “I’ve got you.” He clutched her thick waist tightly, savouring the way she fit against his chest. She let out a cry of pain and he held her closer, trying to pull her off of Steve but she resisted, keeping her hands firmly planted on his strong chest. Clark felt her bones break beneath his hands. 

“Y/N, you need to stop. You can’t keep this up.” “No. I can do it, just a bit more.” She shook her head. Steve’s eyes shot open, grasping at her hands. “Doll stop.” His voice was weak. “Can’t, not yet.” He gripped her forearms and pulled but was unsuccessful. He felt the last of his pain dissipate and as soon as he felt normal again, Y/N passed out. Clark scooped her up and placed her on the now vacant bed, taking the blanket Bucky handed him and covering her. He quietly snuck out of the room.

“She needs to stop doing that.” Steve sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. “I know. She can heal quickly but she ends up in so much pain. Last month she healed Bruce after a close call and was out for almost a week. This can’t be good for her.” Clark huffed. “She doesn’t take care of herself. Someone else will have to do it.” 

“I can.” “I’ll do it.” They both said at the same time. They turned and made eye contact, and in a split second realised that the other man was also in love with the little healer laying in front of them.

“You have feelings for her don’t you?” Steve sighed. “Yeah I do, and I guess you do too.” Neither man noticed that the camera in the room clicked on. Tony sat back in his chair smirking, Bruce Banner next to him. “We shouldn’t watch this Tony. They’re going to work it out between them.” “Yes! That’s exactly what I want to see, the two golden boys telling the other to go for it while they ignore their feelings, it’s going to be great!” 

“This isn’t going to work out the way you think it will.” Bruce Wayne entered the lab and stood behind the pair. “How do you know, bats?” He huffed at the nickname. “Because Clark is incredibly territorial and if he has feelings for someone, he won’t let them go.” The other Bruce nodded. “And Steve has been different since he came back from being on the run, he’s darker, takes what he wants.” Tony’s eyes widened as they turned their attention back to the screen.

Steve’s back was ramrod straight, he could hear his pulse in his ears. He couldn’t let Clark have her.

Clark’s jaw was set, his eyes blazing with fury. Steve couldn’t have her.

And in that moment, the Golden boys went from best of friends, to enemies.

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It took three days for Y/N to properly heal, Steve’s injuries had been far more expansive than she thought, and when she woke up, it seemed that the JL and the Avengers had split. Well not split entirely, mostly everything was fine, but the two powerhouses were constantly at each other’s throats now. They insulted each other, friendly sparring matches turned into all out battles, and the other heroes were forcing them to stay away from each other and Y/N. But no one would tell her what caused this great rift.

There was one time where she had been cooking dinner for the Avengers when Steve came in and offered his help. Ten minutes later, Clark walked in, deep in conversation with Thor but his eyes kept drifting over to the pair. Steve stood closer to Y/N wrapping an arm around her waist as she stirred the sauce and whispered in her ear. “This smells so good doll. I bet it’ll taste delicious.” Goosebumps erupted along her neck and her stomach curled in arousal. He smirked at her reaction, holding her closer to him, her ass pushing into his pelvis. Clark was fuming. “Rogers, I don’t think that’s appropriate behaviour for the kitchen.” “Nobody asked you Kent.” You could cut the tension with a knife, both men looked like they wanted to murder each other. Thor swooped in. “Lady Y/N! What is this wonderful dish you’re making? It smells like something we used to have back on Asgard!” As the god distracted her, the soldier and the Kryptonian snuck out of the room to go destroy another gym.

It was like this for months before Y/N was sick of these two grown men acting like children.

Y/N trudged into the kitchen at Wayne manor and poured herself a huge cup of coffee, silently thanking Alfred for constantly keeping her caffeinated. “Hey Y/N!” A chipper voice startled her, making her drop her mug but before it could crash to the floor, a strong hand caught it. Clark looked at her sheepishly. “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to startle you.” “It’s alright.” She eyed him warily as he leaned against the counter next to her, the heat from his body radiating off him in waves. 

“You going to tell me why you and Rogers are fighting?” She casually took a sip of coffee. Clark blushed. “It doesn’t matter.” “Obviously it does since you two were practically joined at the hip,” She paused, “Does it have anything to do with me? Cause you guys were fine when I healed Steve.” “No no, it’s not you. It’s that fucking asshole, he thinks he’s entitled to you. He thinks that because I’m Kryptonian, I’ll hurt you with my strength. But he’s also always getting hurt, which also puts you in danger, and he’s over 100 years old.” 

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “And you assume you do have some kind of entitlement to me, that you can protect me better?” He stuttered for a moment before she continued, “I could be with someone else for all you know, it’s not like you’ve asked me if I’m single or even if I like men.” “Do you like men?” “That’s irrelevant right now. You two, instead of talking to me, like rational adults, decided to ruin your friendship and fight each other. So I’m going to go back to the school and I’m not coming back until you two work out your differences and talk to me like fucking adults.” She calmly placed her mug in the dishwasher and walked out. 

“Fuck.” Clark scrubbed his hands down his face. “You do know that’s your fault right?” Alfred walked into the kitchen alongside Bruce who was wearing a big smirk on his face. “Master Bruce is correct. It is quite obvious the girl has feelings for you both. Speak with the Captain and work it out. Perhaps you could learn to share, so to speak.” Bruce’s face went bright red with what his adoptive father was implying. “Alfred!” “Oh don’t be so coy Master Bruce. I’m well aware of the things you get up to in your free time.” “I should go, Rogers and I have some things we have to discuss.”

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The school was incredibly quiet, granting Y/N some reprieve from the chaos she had been dealing with. She sat at her favourite window seat, calmly knitting a hat for the professor. She had been given a couple weeks off, and immediately came home, helping move some of the students out for the holidays and helping the other teachers prepare lessons for the new year. “Hey kid.” A gruff voice came from her left. Logan was leaning on the door frame, beer in his calloused hand.

“Hi Logan.” He took that as a signal to approach, shoving her up the bench, sitting behind her and pulling Y/N back to his chest. “I’ve never seen you take a vacation that wasn’t forced on you. What happened?” “And I’ve never seen you ask me about what’s wrong.” She giggled at his pinched brows. “I guess you don’t want to talk about it.” He wrapped an arm around her stomach and rested his chin on her head. “Men suck.” Logan chuckled. “That they do little one. That’s why I told you to never date anyone. No one’s good enough for you.” They fell into a comfortable silence, Y/N picking up her knitting again and Logan closing his eyes, occasionally sipping his beer. 

“I am sorry to interrupt but a man is here to see you Ms Y/N. It seems urgent.” Charles spoke in her mind. Logan groaned as she tried to wiggle out of his arms. “Logan the professor needs me.” “No.” She huffed, poking her finger in between his third and forth ribs which made him give a shout and he let her go. “I never should’ve told you about that, you hold too much power. You better start running.” He growled, causing her to squeak and run out of the room.

She was out of breath when she got to the professor’s office, Logan’s laughter still floating through the halls. Y/N knocked before entering. “You wanted to see me professor?” “I believe you know this guest.” Clark stood up from the seat in front of Charles, dressed in his full suit. “Kal? Is everything alright?” “Apollo, you are needed in the field. Steve has been injured.” “Were you the one that hurt him?” He glared. “Unfortunately not.” Charles smiled brightly. “Go on, you do have a job to do.” “Who’s side are you on, Xavier?” “Not yours.”

“Let’s go Kal, the sooner we get there, the better.” They stepped outside into the chill of a New York winter. “Alright, hold tight.” Clark held her to his chest and her eyes shut tightly as he took off. 

The air got colder the longer they flew and Y/N pressed herself as close to his chest as she could. “Where are we going?” She knew he could hear her but he didn’t answer, making her suspicious, “You’re not going to kill me are you?” She felt his chest rumble with laughter beneath her hand. Clark’s head bent down. “We’ll be there soon.”

Another ten minutes passed before he landed, keeping her close as the cold seeped into her bones. A giant fortress of ice spread out before them. “Is this your man cave?” She rolled her eyes at him. “In a way, come on.” “Steve isn’t hurt is he?” Clark stayed silent, “You two are right bastards.” He smirked. “We know.”

Inside the cave was considerably warmer and a trail of rose petals led to a nervous looking Steve. “So you’re going to seduce me and then kill me?” Her voice broke him out of his trance, he jogged up to the pair. “You got the first part right, doll.” They led her to another room. 

The ceilings were high and covered in little lights that look like stars, the walls had been painted a soft blue that blend in naturally with the ice outside. A bed sat in the center, facing huge windows that overlooked the arctic wilderness. The bed could fit at least five people comfortably so it wasn’t a leap for Y/N to assume that it was meant for her and the two god-like men standing on either side of her.

Steve and Clark each took one of her hands. “We wanted to apologise for the way we’ve been acting. We should’ve just come to you and told you how we both felt.” “And obviously the way to do that is kidnapping me and taking me to a frozen desert so I can’t run away.” Clark rubbed the back of his neck. “We were trying to be romantic.” “Alright, sorry. I’m just a bit worried about what exactly you two have come up with.”

The look that came over their faces was nothing short of pure mischief, they both stepped closer to her, crowding her with their bodies. “Oh doll, we found out that sharing is caring.” “And you know us sunshine, we are very caring.” Clark gripped her jaw and kissed her harshly, knocking the breath from her lungs. Y/N couldn’t help the moan that escaped her as Steve’s hands traveled down to her ass and gave it a squeeze. “You make the prettiest noises doll, can’t wait to hear what you sound like when you cum for us.” Clark had moved on from her lips, leaving them swollen, to her throat, biting her playfully and dragging more pleasured sighs from her mouth. “Oh fuck touch me please, want you both so bad.” She could feel Clark’s smirk against her skin before he gripped her thighs tightly and moved her onto the bed.

She bounced on the soft mattress as she was thrown down. “Our girl looks so beautiful doesn’t she, Kent?” “Indeed she does. She already looks fucked out and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” “Take your clothes off and join me. The water’s fine boys.” Y/N smirked, pulling the large shirt she had been lounging around in over her head, revealing her full naked chest. “Oh sunshine, you don’t realise who’s in charge do you. You constantly take care of others so it’s our job to take care of you.” Kal bent over her, taking a nipple into his warm mouth. “You're ours now Apollo, we’ll discuss your rules later but if you do what we say, we’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives. We’ll be devoted entirely to you, our goddess.” Y/N moaned at Steve’s words, grabbing his collar and bringing him down for a kiss.

Clark had been slowly working his way down her body, kissing every available inch of her beautiful s/c skin. “So gorgeous, so perfect, this body was meant to be worshiped. Made for us, for our seed.” As he reached her hips, his huge hands reached below her leggings and slowly pulled them off her legs. “Fuck I can smell her from here. How wet is our doll?” Kal pressed his nose against her sex, breathing in her scent. “She’s drenched. How long have you been craving us sunshine?” Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Answer him doll.” Steve grabbed the back of her neck and forced her to look down at Clark who was now mouthing at her core. “Since I met you, wanted you both so fucking bad.” “Good girl,” Steve whispered in her ear, “such a good little slut for us.”

Y/N had no clue when either man had undressed but she suddenly found herself sitting up, leaning against Steve’s bare chest as Clark lay in front of her, his head buried between her thick thighs, feasting on her pussy. “Oh fuck Clark! Feels so good!” Her back arched away from Steve who leaned down and attacked her throat with kisses, leaving as many marks behind as possible. “Call him daddy sweet girl, we won’t punish you this time but you’ll need to follow our rules.” Her fingers were buried in his hair, pulling slightly. “What do I call you?” Her voice was breathy. “Captain. It’s time you learn some respect.” Clark slapped her pussy, causing her to shout out. “Keep your eyes open, little one. Keep watching us as we bring you pleasure.” “Yes daddy yes!” “Good girl.” Steve’s hands drifted lower, down her spine and around her ass, burying themselves in her cunt as Clark focused on her clit. 

“Captain, feels so good.” “Such a perfect slut, using your words.” Y/N gripped Clark’s hair tightly, holding him as close to her as possible. “Come for us doll and you’ll get our cocks.” “Fuck!” She came harder than she ever had before. She would’ve been embarrassed of the long continuous moan she let out but the pleasure consumed her. 

When she came back down, Clark kissed her letting Y/N taste herself. “You taste so fucking good sunshine. What do you say?” “T-thank you daddy.” “Good girl, such a good girl. You ready for our cocks now?” She nodded frantically. “Words sweet girl.” “Yes, yes please daddy, captain, want your cocks so bad.” Clark lifted her up and laid her on his chest. “Ride me princess.” 

Y/N sat back on her haunches and reached for his cock. She gasped. “You’re so big daddy, don’t think it’s going to fit.” Steve stroked her cheek from behind. “It’ll fit, we’ll make it fit.” Steve helped lift her up as she lined up Clark’s hard cock with her slit. The captain lowered her down. “Fuck daddy, ’s so big, can’t take anymore.”Her head was thrown back against Steve who kept pushing her down. “Take it slut.” He growled in her ear as Clark gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. Then her ass met Kal’s hard thighs. “Fuck! Sunshine, you’re taking me so well. Bet you feel me so deep in your tummy huh?” His hand rubbed her lower stomach, pushing on it to try and feel himself buried inside her. “Come on doll, ride your daddy, make him feel good.” Her walls burned with the stretch of Clark’s cock but she bit her lip and began lifting her hips, groaning, she could feel every inch of his god-like cock inside her.

Steve watched in fascination as her slick dripped down their bodies, soaking the sheets. “She’s so tight Rogers, she was made for this.” Clark ground out. “I bet we could fit another in that tight little hole couldn’t we. You want my cock too sweetheart, you want me to bury myself in this little cunt.” It wasn’t a question. “Won’t fit, too big.” “Oh doll, you stupid slut, it’ll fit,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “say red if it’s too much ok, we don’t want to hurt you.” She nodded and he pushed her down onto Clark’s chest, sticking a thick finger into her, stretching her out even more. She sobbed as he added another finger, using his other hand to rub her clit. Y/N started grinding her hips against Clark’s pelvis. “Please need more, need to be full.” “You ready for my cock?” “Yes please captain, need you in me!”

Clark was glad they chose to take her for the first time in his fortress because the scream she let out when Steve shoved his cock in her was so loud, he swore the ground shook. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight.” He panted, resting his head on the back of her neck. “Please please move daddy, captain.” Both of them smirked and began moving in tandem. As Steve pulled out, Clark pushed in, making sure Y/N was always full. Y/N couldn’t speak, it felt like the air was being punched out of her lungs with each thrust. She was limp against Superman, gripping his arms for dear life.

“You gonna cum? I can feel you squeezing us.” She nodded dumbly. “Go on cum for us sunshine, soak our cocks in your delicious cum. Her orgasm was building and building but she needed more. As if Steve could read her mind, his rough fingertips just barely grazed her clit, she shattered. The world went black as the pleasure washed over her. She couldn’t hear either man shout through their own release over the sound of her blood pumping in her ears. Her eyes drifted shut as the last aftershock ripped through her.

“You with us doll.” A warm hand caressed her cheek. “Yeah.” Her voice was slurred and slightly raspy. Y/N slowly opened her eyes. “You passed out on us sunshine, I guess we were good huh?” She weakly rolled her eyes. “I’ve had better.” A sharp slap landed on her bare ass. “Naughty girl.” His tone was harsh but the smirk on Steve’s face showed his amusement. “It would be better if I could get some cuddles.” She stuck her arms out, pouting slightly. He smiled warmly and placed her on his lap, allowing her to snuggle into him. Clark laid down next to them, holding her waist from behind. “You did so well for us, we’re so proud of you.” She smiled shyly, shutting her eyes again, falling quickly back to sleep.

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Music thundered through Y/N’s skull as she worked her way through the crowd of Tony’s party with a couple of drinks. “Apollo!” Natasha called for her, she was sitting with Diana and Wanda at a table by the side of the bar. She smiled and made her way over. “What’s up girls?” She placed the drinks on the table. “We had a little question for you. How did you get Supes and Cap to stop fighting?” Natasha gestured over to the two heroes who were currently playing a friendly round of darts. She shrugged, smiling to herself. “Let’s just say, I really like red, white and blue.”

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

[yoonshrimpp]

[ SUNDAY MORNING - JEONGCHEOL ]

"Jeonghan-ah, I'm here!"

Seungcheol's voice echoed through the hall of Jeonghan's apartment. He hanged his soaking wet coat at the entrance as he closed the wooden door behind him. He took off his equally wet shoes. Taking a look at his socks he suddenly regretted that specific choice. Jeonghan was gonna make fun of the dinosaurs on them, for sure. He sighed at the thought, unintetionally smiling to himself.

The house was quiet. The only noise he could hear was the rain hitting the big window in the living room. He walked through it, trying not to focus on the plants that were definitely being a bit too ignored by their owner.

"Jeonghanie?" he called again.

He finally reached the corridor and saw that the door to his bedroom was open. He could hear some music coming from it. He rolled his eyes when he recognized the song.

The moment he peeked into the room he immideately got hit by a strong smell of vanilla, but a sweeter one, more sugary. At the same time though it made him feel fresh all over, like recently cleaned clothes or like the first snow on Christmas day.

Jeonghan was sitting crossed legged on the big white rug between the queen size bed and the wardrobe, which was open. It seemed like it had exploded. Clothes were spread everywhere on the floor and on the bed, luckily not on Jeonghan too. The man was sitting still, looking at two sweaters laying in front of him. He seemed extremely concentrated as he bit his thumb.

Seungcheol chuckled "What are you doing?"

Jeonghan raised his brows, not even surprised by his presence. "Its sweater season Cheol, i gotta change the clothes in my closet." He picked up one of the two sweaters that he was so focused on "I have to choose what i want to keep for winter."

Seungcheol carefully made his way between the colored different types of fabrics that were covering the entirety of the bedroom's floor and went to sit on the bed, right behind Jeonghan. The now almost longhaired man leaned back, resting on his legs. Seungcheol's hand instinctively went to stroke those dark hair he loved so much.

"Did Joshua make you obsessed with this song too?" He said, a sweet smile on his face as he felt the younger relax under his fingertips. "I won't admit that. Let's just say that its the perfect song for today." He said as he folded some white jeans. Seungcheol looked at him from above "Hm?" "It's sunday, its morning and its raining. Couldn't be more accurate."

Seungcheol took a deep breath, nodding. Maybe the scent of Jeonghan's yankee candle was getting to his head but he suddenly felt sleepy once again, reminding him about the initial intent of his visit. "Jeonghan-ah..." He whispered, his lips coming in contact with the younger’s hair and he leaned down to kiss it. The latter seemed to melt on the spot, but replied anyways "Cheol, I really gotta do this...and i gotta study too." "But i can't sleep without someone to cuddle." He pouted as Jeonghan brought his head back to look at him. The older took his opportunity and left a small peck on his lips.

"You're such a child." Jeonghan said as he closed his eyes. Seungcheol's hands were back at doing that scalp massage that was making it extremelly difficult for him not to surrender. So he got up, broke the spell. Seungcheol's pout turned into a gummy smile, thinking he had won. Contrarily to his expectations, after Jeonghan made him lay back on the bed, he just grabbed a fluffy pink blanket and covered him neatly with it.

Seungcheol whined "Oh, come on! I'll help you study later if you cuddle with me now!"

"I'm not falling into this Choi Seungcheol. The deal was you'd sleep here only if you'd let me study in peace."

The latter just groaned loudly this time, accepting his fate and burried his face deeped into the blanket. It wasn't a bad idea after all. Jeonghan was always more calm after he had studied and done everything he had to do, which would have made the cuddles even better later. He rubbed his eyes, already feeling drowsy after that sleepless night. That's why he had come there in the first place, to catch up on sleep. When Jeonghan offered him to come over he couldn't believe it and he had rushed into his car and crossed the whole city under the rain to get there as soon as possible.

But now those dim lights, that soft song, the comfy blanket and that fresh but sweet smell, were ralaxing him so quickly that in a few seconds he found himself drifting into sleep.

Jeonghan closed the closet with a sigh, now ready to focus on studying but when he turned around the most beautiful view caught him off guard.

Seungcheol was sleeping soundly, plump red lips parted as he breathed out slowly.

He couldn't resist and he brought a hand to caress his hair, still a bit wet from the rain. He smiled and leaned to leave a ginger kiss on his forehead as he whispered a three words phrase coming from the bottom on his heart.

[lazysimp]

Hey hey hey it's bakugo x Female cow* reader. {PLOT} bakugo Is overprotective of his little cow* cuz all the other animals aka bulls want reader. so every time he See's the other bulls messing with his bb🥺 he has to run up and scare them away which might end up reader being bred cuz they weren't giving him enough attention

Click Here to read male reader

A/N: I have never written anything like this before so let me know what you think. These are the features I imagined Bakugou/reader has. I hope you don’t mind that I did this more as thirst than a full fic.

Warnings/tags: NONCON/DUBCON, cow girl (Idk how to tag that), animal hybrid fic, breeding, oral sex, vaginal sex, Fem reader

When you had first stepped foot onto the soft grass you immediately attracted dozens of eyes but one pair stood out.

They belonged to a bull not any larger than the rest but his vivid red eyes gave away how dangerous he really was. You made a mental note to avoid him at all costs but it seemed he had a different idea.

Everywhere you went those same red eyes followed you. You tried to lose him in the crowd but that only created a new problem, the other bulls.

Their harassment started off small, a few wolf whistles here and there, but soon it escalated into something darker, they tried to corner you whenever you were alone, using their size to block you in, you had no chance in hell of scaring them off.

Somehow every time they almost had you, they always would back off at the last second, their eyes wide with fear. You had always been too relieved to care why they left.

But one day as the sun set you decided to lay under a new tree, wanting some privacy from the prying eyes, unknowing that you were being followed. As you lay your head down on the soft grass a dark shadow covered you.

You crack your eyes open, not wanting to give away that you were awake but the figure above you knew better.

His large hands seal themselves around your heels pulling you towards his body. He rested on his knees, his cock already standing just from the sight of you.

For weeks he had worked to earn your trust, defending you from all the others, making sure you had plenty of food, the best places to sleep, and even protecting you from himself.

But watching you sleep under his tree, whether you knew it or not, was too much for him to handle, he needed to claim you and now.

Your sweet eyes looked up at him with fear, unsure what he was going to do, you had not meant to invade his space, you just wanted some time to yourself from the others but you had unknowingly waved a red flag looking so sweet and innocent under his tree, oh you were going to be his.

Not wasting any more time his head descended, teasing you with his mouth. At first, you had tried to deny him, unsure what he really wanted, but as his tongue twirled around the tender bud of your clit you forgot why you were fighting.

Before you could reach your final peak his mouth stopped and he rose to his knees giving you the chance to stare at him. His fat cock stood straight up nearly touching his belly button. His stomach was covered in a fine layer of blonde hair and he had a thick tuft of hair just above the base of his cock.

You try to scramble away, your brain finally able to think again but he was faster, lifting you briefly into the air before setting you down, pushing your head down into the grass while forcing you to lift your hips.

“That is it,” he groans, finally able to catch a glimpse of your tight entrance. His cock ached at the thought of finally being able to fill you up.

Not wasting any more time he uses his thumbs to spread apart your cunt, he lets out a long stream of spit, wetting your tense hole. He admired as you squirmed around under him, your little tail waving frantically.

“Shh,” he cooed, stroking the soft skin of your back with his fingers, “I am going to make you feel so good, fill you up until your stomach is full of my cum.”

You wiggle, even more, feeling the strange feeling from earlier return.

“That’s it,” he lines his cock up with your entrance and before you could draw in another breath he pushes forward. He ignored your pained cries and keeps going until he is fully seated. He feels bad causing you pain but he needed to claim you, to show everyone else that you were his.

After giving you a minute to adjust to his intrusion he pulls back his hips, admiring how your hole flutters around his cock. Yes, he had never been more certain. You were his, and he was going to show all of them. The only way he will ever allow you to leave his side is with his cum dripping from your hole, showing all of them who you belong to.

Soon your cries grow into whimpers as his thick cock brushes past a wonderful spot inside you, sending small sparks of pleasure through you. You grab the grass under you, needing something to hold onto as he claimed you.

Pleased to see you had finally accepted your place his hand reaches down, his middle finger slipping through your slick folds to find your clit. When his finger lands on the bundle you lurch forward, the pleasure too much but he pushed you back into place and stroked his finger in time with his thrusts. You had no hope in stopping the blinding pleasure crashing through you finally reached your peak.

Feeling you cum around him sent Bakugou over the edge. He leaned over, groaning in your ear as he released inside you, your clenching pussy milking his cock for every drop of cum.

You both fall to the ground, still resting under the shade of the tree. "Mine,” he mumbles, "That sweet fuckin' cunt is all mine," his lush lips press a gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulls you in close.

You snuggle in closer, already feeling his essence starting to drip out from your abused hole but you were too tired to care. Your life had just changed drastically and you wanted to freak out but as he tucked your head into his chest the only thought you had was how warm you felt.