#ive only ever thought about heels before and not the other two!!!!

[harukehn]

*on the porch waiting *

👠🔺️😄 for haru and lotus? :3

👠 haru - oh he can confidently walk in them for sure. he would probably only wear them on special occasions, when hes not in Work Mode (so counts on fingers like. 3 or 4 times in his life lol)

lotus - i think he literally lives in heels. at least small ones. i hate to think how many times he hurt himself terribly when young and trying to make sure he could do anything with heels on that he can also do without. he likes to feel tall.

🔺️ haru - i think he likes... round things. any one thing is hard and i think he'd struggle to answer this himself, but he likes curved shapes - blade of an axe, petals, leaves, a crescent moon. that kind of thing.

lotus - almost the exact opposite i think lol. he's... a bit of a freak when it comes to knives, i think. so he loves sharp things. sharp heels, sharp daggers, actively shapes his nails to as sharp a tip as possible, etc.

😆 haru - sighs dreamily. i think hes more of a guy to stifle his laugh. giggle and maybe snorting if hes not careful. and because he tries to smother it, it just makes him laugh for longer. i think its silly in an endearing way.

lotus - good lord. i think if you ever hear him laugh you're in trouble. i imagine most of the time he laughs it's quite cold. sarcastic, demeaning, "oh you really don't realise you're about to die do you?" laughs aren't common from him. i think if he was genuinely amused, you'd be more likely to get a "hm!" and a slight smile rather than anything else. short and sweet.

[angelkiyo]

𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑬𝑹! - 𝑲. 𝑺𝑨𝑲𝑼𝑺𝑨

during a boys' trip to mexico, sakusa finds himself involved in a bet to get laid while at a nightclub with his teammates after going through a messy breakup. so what happens when he accidentally runs into his friend with benefits from back in college?

tags - wc: 2.4k, drabble + nsfw/unedited, overstim if you squint, draft from august 2024, + ive also never tried writing smt like this sooo…

sakusa kiyoomi felt like he was suffocating, being squished in the corner of the nightclub with his drink while babysitting his three other teammates who were planning on who to hit on next. it was currently the off season and the four msby players decided to take a vacation to mexico to relax and have fun (it was all bokuto and atsumu after seeing some tiktok vlogs about a vacation to mexico). though sakusa should have known better, as his definition of fun was different than his teammates’.

“yer so borin’, omi.” atsumu had his hands on his face while he slurred, “single now, have some fun! i didn’t like that fucken bitch anyway.” atsumu took a heavy swig of his drink while lazily mumbling some shit about his ex.

“get yerself laid. there’s so many hot people here so take yer pick. i'm sure you'll find somebody."

sakusa just frowned at his teammate in response while serving himself and taking another shot of tequila. that’s right, he was single. he had recently broken up with his significant other two weeks before his trip as he found them cheating on him. so to cope, he just practiced and practiced. he honestly thought he took it well.

in the rare occasions that he is in a relationship, they usually last at max 3 months. it’s either “you don’t pay attention to me” or “does volleyball matter more than me?”. relationships after college felt of convenience, to feel something. sakusa felt himself lost in thought until he felt a cold splash on his chest and bokuto apologizing repeatedly.

the entire nightclub was hot and humid and it was summer in mexico so sakusa felt utterly stupid at the fact that he wore a long sleeve grey button down with a white undershirt. he felt disgusted at the fact that there was some sugary cocktail on his shirt and left to the bathroom to clean off before he could blow up at bokuto.

he rushed to the bathroom, cleaning the drink off his shirt and took off his button down, leaving sakusa in his undershirt for now. the constant bass of the reggaeton playing in the night club along with the heavy smell of weed and alcohol had sakusa feel hazy, his head feeling heavy on top of his neck. he decided on ditching his friends as he could always apologize tomorrow, he was sure they'll forgive him if he treated to breakfast tomorrow anyway. plus, hinata was the only one not shitfaced enough to at least order an uber. sakusa clung to his forehead as he bumped into someone who also seemed to head the same direction in annoyance.

“¡mil disculpas! -oh, sakusa?”

now that’s a voice he didn’t expect to hear in sometime. he comically whipped his head at the nostalgic voice and saw you, in your flowy, see through, navy blue blouse, black flowy skirt, and black little kitten heels. you looked pretty, meanwhile he felt that he looked crazy with how he was gripping a shirt that had an alcohol splatter on the chest (which was visible). the fact that he felt so hot and sweaty that his black curls clung to his sweaty forehead felt absolutely uncanny considering his aloof demeanor. an almost crazed expression etched on his face as surprise was all he could feel along with annoyance due to his teammates and the heat.

“l/n, hi.”

he didn’t have much to say, you still looked good as you did back in college. you and sakusa were friends with benefits. one accidental one-night stand turned into an every week thing. every time sakusa lost a game or got stressed over an exam, he’d take it out on you during sex, not that you complained. it was a mutual agreement. however, you were the only girl he’s ever felt nervous about.

“how’s life been?” you held a coy smile on your face as you eyed him. you played with the hems of your skirt as you looked at him with your doll-like eyes. eyes like you enjoyed playing with him, “you look bothered. um, were you-?”

“i’ve been good. um, im not gonna do anything uh-“

“oh um, i was gonna go to a bailé, if you wanna come?”

“um, sure.”

fuck it. it sounded better than staying at a hot and humid nightclub.

you two only walked a block in peaceful silence as the buzzing nightlife of the city filled the background noise. that’s until he felt a buzz from his messages:

from: miya atsumu

i see u lwft us yhu btich

if u ght laud ill desdass pau u 20 bucks

you opened the door to a ballroom club where a band was playing bachata, “im gonna go say hi to some friends!”

sakusa nodded and looked at his surroundings. at this point, the night went fairly well as the ballroom was decently occupied (considering the nightclub a block away was popular).

that’s until he felt a tap on his shoulder from you with a nervous smile etched on your face, “hey, would you want to be my partner for this song?” he felt his eyebrows raise, “what? i mean sure but i don’t know?”

it was almost comical how your eyebrows mirrored his moments ago. was he too blunt?

“i can teach you, don’t worry about it.”

right.

you took his clammy hands and held on his shoulder ss your other hand held his right, placing his left on your waist, “look, not that hard. just move your hips to the music and you’ll be fine.”

sakusa kiyoomi would consider himself to be a rather stiff individual. somebody who isn't fond of dancing or anything that didn't require him to be precise and articulate with his movements (such as volleyball), yet when he is with you, he can't help but feel like putty in your hands. as he spinned you (or at least attempted to) amongst the colorful lights of the ballroom, you looked stunning.

"i look ridiculous."

you laughed and squeezed both of his hands as his footwork began to mirror yours, "wanna leave?"

he scoffed, "we barely got here." — "yeah but you don't seem to enjoy this"

your tone was teasing as you quickly bid farewell to your friends and took sakusa with you. just like that.

the two of you ended up heading to your apartment to catch up from college.

“have you tried speaking spanish? i mean to talk to locals. doesn’t your teammate, hinata speak it?”

sakusa shrugged, “not really and shoyo is just learning. he speaks portuguese.”

“so what do you know how to say?

“olá, como está o seu dia? that’s pretty much it.”

you nodded as you ended up pulling out a cigarette from your purse and your silver lighter. smoking was a rather nasty habit you had, since college. nevertheless, he’s the one who got you the lighter as a goodbye gift after college. you side eyed him and brought the cigarette box to his face.

fuck it.

sakusa had the cigarette and put the wrong side in his mouth, where you stopped him. "you're doing it wrong. have you ever done this before?" — he hasn't and you read him like a book.

you laughed and and took the cigarette in his mouth, "im not about to pressure you, kiyoomi. don't forget you're an athlete too. plus, we're here."

after a few flights of stairs, you two were finally in your apartment.

the next couple moments were a bit of a blur; first, you simply put your bag on the coat hanger next to your door, then you turn around where he starts kissing you on your couch, with one of your hands cupping his face endearingly while the other tugged and played with his curls.

you straddled him on the couch and kissed him as he massaged your ass from below your skirt. was it wrong to say it was nostalgic of college?

maybe, but sakusa needed a cathartic release from the intensive stress of his career and felt no shame going back to his old ways from college.

you lifted up your shirt to take to off, where sakusa felt his mouth go dry. you flashed him a smile and threw the blouse on the recliner near, “got them done a bit after graduation.” you were talking about your nipple piercings, the sleek metal rod gave a bit of edge and personality to the complete work of art that is your body.

you went back and kissed him with more intensity, your tongues almost fighting for dominance as sakusa had one hand on your waist, and the other caressing your breast. in his old relationships and sexual encounters, kiyoomi wouldn’t even dare attempt foreplay and kept himself at a boundary— god forbid they wanted to make out the way you are doing right now. however, with you, he was on edge all the time, pushing away his inhibitions.

“shit…kiyoomi.” you breathed out as kiyoomi started attacking your exposed breasts, his tongue swirling around your areolas and rods. he felt a wave of pure nostalgic euphoria hit him, intoxicated by lust at the same time as he felt you grind against him. the utter symphony of your breathless whines and moans was music to his ears, adding onto whatever desires he had at the start of his night with you.

your whines only became louder as he slipped his hand into your panties, rubbing circles on your clit, causing for you to pull on his black curls in utter pleasure and grind on his hand.

“please, let’s do this somewhere else.” your head laid on your shoulder as your plush legs latched onto his waist where he carried you to your room, throwing you on the bed.

kiyoomi kneeled to look up at you and your blissed-out expression, “do you have a condom?”

even in your state, you flashed him a sly smile, “we won’t need them.”

he scoffed at your teasing words, taking off his slacks and sweat-drenched undershirt.

once he was in his boxers, you hung your arms around his neck for him to lower his posture to meet your lips, the sound of your lips clashing breaking any silence.

you placed him spread on the bed, crawling on his breathless form as you rolled down his boxers to be met with his cock, springing out towards his abdomen. it was slightly bigger than you remembered, with it being a little curved and its cute swollen pink tip spilling slight precum. still, you weren’t mad. at all.

you licked your lips and pumped at his dick, kissing at his swollen pink tip leaking with pre-cum, “god i missed this…”

kiyoomi didn’t know what to say. he was speechless. maybe it was the alcohol or the lust still intoxicating his system but this felt cathartic.

you began going in, giving his dick little kisses until you began to take it in your mouth little by little and sucked, causing him to let out the quietest of moans. as you sucked him off, you felt him gently push at your head, causing you to go faster. you began to caress his balls, which made his dick begin to twitch and him to whine. you maintained eye contact as you pumped his dick while you sucked, feeling spurts of his cum in your mouth as he released. “s-shit…y/n.”

you crawled back up and placed your knees to each side of his legs, “is it okay if we?”

kiyoomi nodded and looked at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “i thought we were, y/n.”

you smiled at his words and aligned his dick to your entrance and slowly went down, whining at the slight hint of pain that was brought by him slightly stretching you out. all you both could hear was the wet squelch of your pussy being stretched out by his hard cock.

“careful, y/n.” kiyoomi licked his bottom lip as he grabbed onto your hips and slowly helped you move on his cock. you attempted to move your hips yourself, gasping at the sheer pleasure when he began to thrust upwards. you grabbed onto his shoulders and then pulled on his hair as you felt the sensation overtake you, moving your hips side to side while he thrusted and rubbed on your clit simultaneously.

it felt too much for both of you, with this being the first time you’ve gotten laid since college.

until kiyoomi stopped.

kiyoomi flipped you on your back as he began to stand up, making you giggle, “thought you didn’t have this in you?”

“you’ll see.” kiyoomi licked his thumb and began circling your clit again before bringing your legs on his shoulders, “o-oh my god…”

kiyoomi slowly inserted his cock in your pussy again, adjusting to the tight squeeze you had on him. he began to thrust in you roughly again, making you moan as you gripped on his bedsheets. it felt almost overstimulated as he kept on, with said thrusting becoming sloppy shortly after you had reached your orgasm finally. it hit you like a truck.

you felt like an incoherent mess, grabbing onto his neck again to kiss him with more fervor, a string of saliva connecting your lips. it felt almost too much with the pace he was going. then again, kiyoomi was an athlete with an insane amount of stamina. however, you felt his thrusts become sloppier and the speed become slower until you felt him spill his cum in you, feeling warm.

he quickly muttered an ‘I’m sorry’ and became even more flustered.

you smiled as you threw your forearm on your eyes, “you’re okay, it’s okay.”

he slipped his cock out of your pussy, making you feel his cum drip out of you all cold.

you attempted to sit up with your elbows, softly sighing. he carried you in his arms to the bathtub in your connected bathroom, taking a bath together in peaceful silence.

———

kiyoomi has a habit of waking up early—however, he hasn’t gotten this good of sleep since high school.

he looked over to your blissful figure asleep and smiled. until he checked his phone.

“what the fuck?” kiyoomi ran his fingers through his hair as he checked his phone, spammed with several (hundred) calls from his teammates.

he kept scrolling amongst the barrage of “where tf r u” and “hello?” messages until he was greeted with a venmo notification from miya atsumu sending him 20 bucks:

i knew i could count on you ;)

[birdyshewrote]

“Birthday Girl”

Wolverine x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Wade Wilson throws you a rink-a-dink birthday party every year, and this year is no exception. But this time, you have a new guest.. and he’s been watching you for a while.

Notes- hi. ive never written a fic before EVER, so pls be nice. this is mainly for me to be able to get my thoughts out of my head because I’ve been thinking about this man for way too long. happy birthday bitches 🫶

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut- 18+ Logan Howlett x Female!Reader, Logan calls reader “Kid”, light smoking and alcohol consumption, Wade being a menace

——————————————————————————

You had caught glances of him a few times in the hall. The scent of smoke, leather and alcohol that belonged to only him drifted in the air behind him for a few seconds even after he had walked into the apartment room across from yours. There had been a few times where you stepped into the elevator and musky cigar smoke had filled the small space. You didn’t complain though, secretly savoring the intoxicating smell, taking more, quicker breaths than you needed too. You couldn’t deny the knot it put in your stomach and the weakness it put in your legs before stepping out of the elevator, down the hall and into your own room.

Eventually, you were tired of the mystery. Two weeks into the seemingly one sided tension, you trapped your long time friend and even longer time across-the-hall neighbor, Wade Wilson, into the elevator with you. Ever since the stranger had moved in with Wade, he had stopped inviting you over. Your birthday was coming up, and so was your annual not-so-surprised birthday party. Once the elevator doors closed, you started,

“Hey, who’s your new roomie?”

Wade scoffed, putting a hand across his heart on his chest, the other gripping a full black trash bag that smelt of blood and for some reason bubblegum scented air fresheners. “THATS how I am greeted nowadays? No, ‘Hello Wade’, ‘Looking good Wade’, ‘Here’s that five bucks I owe you Wade,’

You roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip stepping away from him. “Okay, first of all, I do not owe you five bucks. You OFFERED to pay for the funeral arrangements after you killed my fish-“

“He looked hungry, who knew fish could be over fed?” He interrupted.

“I told you before I left!” You argue back. “I was only gone two days and you-“ You rub your forehead and shake your head, frustrated. “Whatever. Not relevant. Hello Wade, you do look good.” You say, defeated.

Wade giggly adjusted his weight to his heels, to his tippy-toes, then back to his heels again “Thank you.” He said, satisfied, and turned back to the doors.

“You didn’t answer my question. Your roommate? Who is he?” You ask again as the elevator dings and the doors creakily open.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you sideways as the two of you walked down the small lobby. “Uhm, news flash doll face, Blind Al is not new. She’s an OG. Been here a while, silly.”

“Not Al.” Talking to Wade was like trying to a horse with dementia. “You know, ‘Mr Tall and Handsome,’ always sulking, ‘I don’t care about no smoking rules.”

Wade throws his head back, “Ooohhhh, you mean Peanut. What about him?”

“No introduction?” You ask confused, watching Wade as he carried his trash down the hall, holding the entrance door open for you.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess Iuh… I forgot.” He stuttered as he led you down the wet alleyway, towards the dumpsters.

“Last month you called me into your room to show me your new toothbrush. You have a new roommate and you just, ‘forget’ to introduce us?”

Wade shrugs, shifting the thin, plastic bag straps in his hand uncomfortably as he walked.

The truth was, Wade did not forget. The truth was, in fact, that one of the first things Wade had done was mention your existence to Logan before he was even fully settled in the apartment.

“I think you two would hit it off, hardcore. And I mean, HARD.” Wade had said.

“Absolutely not.” Logan grumbled, immediately shutting him down, not even looking up from the blow-up mattress he was unrolling in the living room.

Wade sat on the couch arm rest, looking down at the burly man. “Come on Wolvie, let a girl heal your cold, withered heart. You’re a tough, ‘don’t get too close’ typa guy, she’s an ‘I can fix him’ type of girl, I personally think it’s a perfect match.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m telling you to drop it.” He snapped, glaring up at Wade. “I don’t need you playing Cupid here, you hear me? I swear to God, if I hear you that you’ve even said my name to anyone I’ll get the fuck out of here and never look back. I don’t need to be getting mixed up in any of that shit right now.”

Maybe years ago Logan would have been a flirt, he wasn’t new to women or relationships, but he had been through too much. He had lost too much. He’d never admit it, but the truth was, the infamous Wolverine was scared. Scared of intimacy, scared of getting attached, scared of loss, scared of you. Still, this didn’t change the fact that he had been secretly watching you leave your apartment through the safety of the peephole of his own door. And yeah, maybe if you weren’t so loud coming out of your apartment he wouldn’t know your schedule within a week. Like what time you wake up to leave for work or school, or what time you come home. What days you take your trash out or do your laundry. And when he found one of your sweaters lying around the apartment when he first moved in, what should he have done with it? He was holding onto it for safe keeping. And yeah, he knew it was yours, but only because your sugary perfume clouded his nostrils and made his head feel fuzzy. It was so recognizable, he knew immediately the sweater was yours. Maybe if you wouldn’t drown yourself in the body mist he wouldn’t instinctively know when you were just in the hall, he told himself. It wasn’t his fault he had animalistic smelling.

He couldn’t, however, find an excuse for how he’d hesitate in front of his door, watching for the elevator to stop at your shared floor, wait for the doors to open and inhale the scent of your panties from down the hall once you saw him, then he’d unlock his door and rush in quickly. Sometimes if he was unlucky he’d steal a glance of your full body out of the corner of his eye.

None of this meant anything though. He could contain the animalistic urges he had towards you. Especially when he caught a glimpse of your thigh when you knelt to pick up a dropped grocery. He could handle himself when he heard your thick, sweet laugh through walls when watching a show or movie. But at the same time, what harm would it cause if he touched himself while inhaling the scent of your hair, sweat and perfume through your abandoned sweater late at night? And keeping it locked away in a locked dresser wasn’t creepy, it was just there until you asked Wade to look around for it.

He could handle himself from a distance. He knew this. He knew his limits.

He had been woken up from the couch after a long afternoon of drinking and despair by a loud “SURPRISE!” followed by laughter and clapping. He did not know there was a party going on, let alone a party for you. He was completely blindsided when you were standing within ten feet of him, in his living area, talking to Al and Wade and the others, laughing that sweet laugh

Shit..

Where could he escape? The front door was no longer an option, everyone was clustered in front. Maybe he could make a run for it through the bedroom and out the window? Or maybe take his chances down the escape ladder through the-

“Sleeping beauty has awaken!”

Shit.

Before you could blink, Wade was pulling you through the small cluster of friends to the couch, where a very confused, very hung over, very huge piece of man stood like a deer in headlights. This was your first time seeing him up close, and shit was he alluring. His hair was untamed and messy from his interrupted sleep, his thick brows furrowed. Frown lines prominent as his large muscles twitched under his shirt-

“Hey, his eyes are up there you horn dog.” Wade publicly snapped you back into reality. Immediately flustered, you began trying to save the situation that was doomed from the start.

“I wasn’t looking at- I wasn’t even doing anything, Wade!”

“It’s okay, I know you weren’t. He’s just a moron.” He put an understanding hand up as he spoke. Fuck his voice was so deep and low, almost a growl. It felt rich and threw shivers straight to the back of your throat and straight into the dark jeans you wore. You swallowed. Hard.

After an awkward greeting, Wade had basically pushed a drink into both of your hands and left you to fend for yourself. Logan took a seat on the couch, the worn furniture dipping under his weight. He was clearly uncomfortable. He kept his eyes low, rarely meeting yours. He threw his arm over the head of the couch, spreading his knees. He pulled out a cigar and gestured to it. You couldn’t tell if he was offering you one or asking if you’d mind if he smoked, you shook your head no to both. You politely sat next to him, pulling your legs under yourself next to him.

Unfortunately, this man was not the easiest to speak to.

“So, Logan. You’re new.” You fidget with the cup in your hands.

He lets out a low “Mhm” while taking a puff, then lets smoke pool out of his mouth and drizzle out of his nose, before speaking again. “Yeah. Don’t really know how I ended up here. Just, kind of did.”

You nod, looking around the room. 2016-2018 pop hits played on the pink Hello-Kitty speaker Wade had bought for himself, now sitting on the kitchen table next to the drinks. Various characters lounged around the apartment chatting and eating pizza and drinking.

“Seen you around, y’know.”

You turn to face him again.

“Oh?” You ask, sipping your drink.

He nods in return. “If you need help bringing groceries up to your room or somethin’, you can just let me know. Heard you drop a few things before.” His top lip twitches just the slightest in what you assume is his version of a smile. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and chews.

You furrow your brows at the sarcastic banter. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know I had a stalker.” You bite back, smiling while doing so.

“Not stalking you, kid. Just minding my own business and getting interrupted every two seconds by my noisy neighbor.”

After this, the two of you spoke more fluid. Relating in Wade’s schemes and circumstances became a common interest. You felt yourself becoming more and more comfortable with the man’s presence. After your second drink, your leg rested against the rough denim of his thick thigh. He said nothing about it, so you continued to speak to him. You were unaware of what he was thinking or feeling.

He was freaking the fuck out. Especially when you asked him to go outside with him to get some air. He agreed, and the two of you slipped out of your own party. The night was dark as you walked through the city-lit pathway to the side of the building. Logan watches you and takes another puff of his cigar as you stretch in the open air. You sigh, relieved to be out of the stuffy room.

You could feel his eyes on you. The heat and heaviness of his lingering eyesight, watching your every move as if you were his prey. It made you nervous. It made you intrigued. You wanted to be in his sight, and he wanted to keep watching you.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much, shit’s awful for you you know.” You say, leaning on the brick building next to the tall, muscular figure.

He gives you a slow, sharp smirk in return, his canines showing through resting on the cigar.

Your heart begins to thump and he looks deep into your eyes, like he sees through you.

You let out a shaky exhale as your smile fades and take a step closer to him. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks down at you, shaking his head.

“You don’t want this, kid.”

You pause, trying to read his face in the dim lighting. “I do, and I think you do too.” You speak low and soft, like if you’re too sudden with your movements he’ll get startled and dash away. You slowly raise a hand and rest it on his hard, warm chest. You feel it rise and lower, he’s heaving now.

You bring your face up, closer to his. He doesn’t move, so you whisper into his own lips, “Logan, it’s okay.”

The light encouragement is what he needed. He looks down at your parted lips, pushes the lit cigar into the brick wall next to you, putting it out and dropping it, before muttering back,

“Well, you are the birthday girl.”

He leans down to give you what you’ve been asking him for, and what he’s been yearning for. He kisses you, slow and respectful at first, stepping in front of you. He puts his large, rough hand in between your head and the jagged building, protecting you as he pushes you against the wall. You bring a soft hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down farther into your space. He tastes like alcohol and smoke, and you couldn’t get enough. The kiss gets sloppier as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. You look at his face through squinted eyes, only to see his brows furrowed in deep concentration and self-discipline as to not overstep. You shut your eyes again as you grab his other hand, dragging it to your waist. He lets out a soft, low groan in response to the contact of your skin. Your waist feels so soft and warm is his heavy grip. He softly paws at your side, then up your loose shirt. He pauses underneath your bra, and you arch your back in response.

He breaks away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you momentarily before breaking. “This okay? You’re sure? I can touch you like this?” He’s almost pleading, even with all of the consent in your body. He looks down at you, eyes half lidded.

“Yes, Logan. Stop asking me.”

He nods, smiling slightly, and slowly shifts his long, thick fingers underneath the garment, and towards your chest. He brings his mouth to yours again, greedily taking and lapping at your mouth. The scent of your arousal intoxicates to him. You clench your legs together, to which Logan uses his thick, sturdy knee to break you open and apart. You feel exposed to him now, resting on his knee. The rough denim rubbing sends jolts to your throbbing core. The kissing is wet, his stubble rubs against your lips as he gently bites your tongue with his canines. His hand gently gropes your breast, while pushing his knee against your dampening soft area. He brings his calloused hand down back to your waist, slowly guiding your hips to rock against his knee. He uses his other hand against your head to gently grip your hair and push your head closer against his mouth.

Logan didn’t get you a birthday present, but he was definitely making up for it.

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse iv); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo go on your first double date... or is it really? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo may have had a 'help I've fallen on your boobs and I can't get up' moment, bestie shoko, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! this one was sm fun to write, I love writing gojo and geto being nothing but idiots tbh... wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"A dinner? A fancy dinner?" Shoko asked as you nodded. "What's a bunch of sixteen year olds gonna do at a fancy dinner?" She raised a brow in confusion. Ever since being paired by Yaga with Shoko, the two of you have grown quite close. You were more than thankful, as much as you loved your own little trio (including Nanami and Haibara), it was nice to have a friend that wasn't... well, a male. 

Not that there was something wrong with that, you saw Nanami like a sort of twin—though you were a bit more on the social side—he got along with you the most. Then there was Haibara, who was an absolute sweetheart and a gem, the energy both you and your blond twin needed. However, seeing as Ieiri was your senior, there was quite a lot to learn from her—outside from the jujutsu world. 

There was also Geto and Gojo... Geto was an interesting person to be around. He had dark humor but also was nothing but kind to you. Gojo, on the other hand...

"A double date?!" Satoru exclaimed as he was alone with Suguru after you invited the two young men to the dinner you told Shoko about. 

Arching an eyebrow, Suguru crossed his arms. "Who said this is a double date? In your delusional world, you're dating our little junior when she only sees you as a friend—"

"That's a lie!" Gojo snapped, earning a snicker from his best friend. "I'll have you know we get along very well, we hangout a lot! And— and we have a lot of fun conversations!"

"Sounds fun," Geto said sarcastically. "We all know you're madly in love with her. However, we have no idea how she feels about you."

"Then explain the double date, huh?" Gojo was now the one to cross his arms, tapping his foot. "You and Shoko, me and my mochi?"

Sighing, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, not a double date. It's four friends going to a nice restaurant to support one of our friend's family members. Nothing more, nothing less," he explained, only for everything to go into one ear and out the other for the white haired boy before him. 

Satoru was in his own world, delusional as always, eyes sparkling at the thought of you in a cute dress. Heels or no heels, makeup or not, he just couldn't help but fantasize about how beautiful you were going to look tonight!

"Earth to Satoru?" Geto waved his hand in front of his best friend, only to laugh. "Thinking about how cute she'll look tonight, huh?"

"Yeah..." Gojo nodded, a face of pure ecstasy, as if he were about to drool. 

"Maybe I'll swap dates, you can have Shoko, I'll have our beautiful—"

"No!" Satoru shouted, instantly jumping Suguru. "She's my date for the night!"

"Good luck with that, if you look like an idiot right now thinking about her, just imagine you tonight!" Suguru laughed as he shoved Satoru off of him. "You're gonna look like a complete idiot!"

"You're not discreet..." Geto mumbled towards Gojo as the young man sat beside you, cheek pressed in the palm of his hand as he ever so casually gazed at you. You were in the middle of a conversation with Shoko, something about a movie you both recently had seen together. Too lost in your discussion, laughing and enjoying the evening as Suguru watched his best friend look like he was in a trance. "You are literally staring..." Furrowing his eyebrows as a look of slight disgust took over his face, Suguru kicked Satoru. 

"Shh," Gojo brushed off, kicking him back. 

"You're lucky she's in her own world with Shoko to even hear us," Geto kicked again, feeling his best friend constantly kick back. Gojo was too focused on you to even pay him any mind.

The restaurant, although fancy, was quite lively and practically filled to the brim. The reservations were endless and everyone that came and went looked like they came from money. Satoru and Suguru wore similar suits, solely because they bought them last minute and ended up with the same look (Satoru was NOT happy, but Suguru found it very funny). Shoko, after seeing them, called them tweedledee and tweedledum... You, on the other, found it cute. 

Cute... Gojo kept hearing your words echo in his head. You thought he, himself, was cute?! Forget Suguru, you said he was cute! He couldn't help but indulge in it as he gazed at you practically the whole dinner. For a split second, he did acknowledge the fact that you looked beyond gorgeous. In a white, fitted dress, hugging your curves with a sweetheart neckline... It was safe to say his mind was split in two. In particular, the two brain cells he had. Half of his mind was floating in the clouds of your compliment while the other half was focused on the top of your breasts (practically where his eyes kept falling to). He was... somewhat of a gentleman, he just couldn't help that dirty side of him. You were beautiful! He wanted you!

In his defense, he was used to seeing you in your uniform jacket, skirt, and tights... the times you weren't, you were always dressed cute and comfortable. Never had he seen you like this, curves and all. 

Reaching over the table and yanking on Gojo's hair, Geto stifled a laugh as his best friend snapped his head and growled. "Rude, I was busy!" He hissed, reaching over and tugging on the bangs that hung over the dark haired young man's forehead. 

Caught up with your conversation with Shoko (and not entirely hearing the commotion beside you with all the various voices around you in the restaurant) a sudden gasp left the brunette as she watched it all happen before her in slow motion. Gojo and Geto shoved one another, completely forgetting where they were as others nearby watched in confusion. 

From one second to the next, you were knocked off your chair, head thudding with the ground as a body collapsed against you. Various gasps and whispers were heard as you winced. Blinking a few times and trying to sit up, you felt a pressure against your chest. Both Shoko and Suguru (who was pulled to his feet by Shoko), stared at the disaster before them. Satoru, with his face planted against your chest, as you stared at him, wide eyed. 

"Satoru!" Shoko exclaimed, smacking his head as he lifted it, staring at you with a shared blush, before both of his friends yanked him up. 

"I— I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, reaching for your hand to help you up as you looked stunned. 

"God, you two are so immature. Before we get kicked out, take her home and I'll handle this," Shoko tsked as you blinked, only to snap out of your daze. 

"It's— It's okay! I'll handle this! I invited you all—"

"No, you hit your head hard, let me handle this. Dummie over here will take you," Shoko kicked Satoru's calf. "Go. Now."

Without second thinking his actions, Gojo took your hand and lead you out. Both of you ignored the displeased stares and gossip that spread over the four kids who "shouldn't have been allowed into a restaurant like this in the first place." 

Walking out, Satoru stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. "I'm so sorry about... my face being in your... Anyway, are you okay?" He asked, using his free hand to gently touch the back of your head. "There's no bump, but, are you alright?"

"I— It's okay, I'm not hurt," you swore as you nodded your head, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Gojo swore his heart grew two times its size. "I promise," you softly smiled. 

Nodding, a small smile grew on the young man's lips. He couldn't help but gaze at you, softness in his eyes as he kept his hand on the back of your head. Silence weaved its way between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable. You stood there for what felt like hours, looking at one another and nearly forgetting what you were doing or where you were. 

The sound of honking snapped the two of you out of it as you realized you were out in the open, with people walking by and cars driving along. 

Clearing his throat, Satoru lowered his hand from your head and kept his other in yours. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[darl-ingfics]

Come Lean Your Back on Me (Part 2)

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: 95 Line (pneumonia)

Caregiver(s): Seventeen

Word Count: 4,436 | Part 1

CW: hospital (nothing too graphic, but much of this takes place there)

Notes: First and foremost I don't know how oxygen masks work, and there are probably many medical inaccuracies. Second, this was my first real two part-er fic, and I'm so excited to share the conclusion with you. To the anon that sent this ask initially, thank you. This one's been a delight to write.

Seungcheol was barely asleep when he heard his door burst open. He was in the middle of contemplating if the cold medicine he’d taken before bed wasn’t actually the nighttime variety he’d intended to take because he didn’t feel sleepy at all when that stuff usually knocked him out. It also occurred to him that while he didn’t feel sleepy, he was so, so tired. Everything limb felt heavy, every muscle sore. His thoughts were hazy. And yet he just couldn’t fall asleep. 

So he was somewhere in the middle of asleep and awake when the door opened, and his leader instincts kicked in on autopilot. He had already switched on the lamp when Mingyu appeared at his bedside. 

Squinting against the light, Mingyu looked scared. “Hyung. You need to come. It’s Shua.”

Seungcheol sat up, ignoring the protesting ache in his muscles; autopilot was really working to his advantage right now. “What’s wrong?” He silently thanked the universe that the meds he’d taken were at least dulling his symptoms so that his sickness wasn’t obvious when his dongsaeng needed him. 

“He’s really sick.” Well shit. “Seokmin thinks hospital.”

“Hospital?!” Seungcheol threw back his covers and swung himself out of bed, shaking his head to clear a wave of dizziness. 

Mingyu nodded. “His temp was 39.6.” Seungcheol froze, staring at Mingyu in shock. The younger man nodded again in earnest. “And he said he couldn’t breathe. He’s coughing real bad.” 

It was Seungcheol’s turn to nod as he started moving towards the hall again. His hand skimmed against the wall, keeping him steady. But he made sure it was only his fingertips and not a full lean so Mingyu wouldn’t worry more than he already was. He didn’t stop until he reached Joshua’s room, feeling Mingyu on his heels as he rounded the doorframe. 

Seokmin was still cradling Joshua in his arms, half standing, half kneeling on the bed. He looked more terrified than Seuncheol had ever seen him as he clutched tightly to Joshua’s body, the elder mumbling incoherently despite looking like he was fast asleep. 

“Hyung.” Seokmin’s voice was little more than a sob. “Please. Help me.”

*

Seungcheol did not like being the one who had to go to the hospital with his members when they were hurt or sick. He hated watching other people poke and prod at his brothers, hated how they ignored their cries of pain or needs for comfort, even though he knew they were just doing their job. He hated seeing his brother so fragile. 

But he also refused to be left behind, to be anywhere but by his brothers’ side in their time of need. 

Still. It sucked to watch the paramedics carry Joshua’s body from the ambulance as if he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. It hurt watching the nurses flock around him, hands fluttering between an IV, blood draws, all of it. The worst was the mask, the fucking oxygen mask cause Joshua couldn’t fucking breathe. Cause how had he, Seungcheol, let it get this bad? How had he missed this? Sure, he’d known Joshua was sick; they’d both joked about Jeonghan’s overcommitment to the phrase ‘sharing is caring.’ But it was just a cold. Not… this. The thought ‘why didn’t Joshua say something?’ also crossed his mind, but the answer came just as quick: ‘you haven’t said anything either, so look who’s talking.’ 

But the absolute worst came after the mask; was having to sit back and watch Joshua come to and have a panic attack because of the confusion of waking up in an unknown space with a plastic dome strapped to his face. Listening to the heart rate monitor shrieking in time with his member’s anxiety. His view of his dear friend suddenly distorted from the nurses flurrying around.

Seungcheol couldn’t sit anymore. He jumped to his friend’s side, grabbed the hand closest to him. “It’s alright, I’m here, I’m here, just breathe,” the leader soothed in English, his fingers wrapping around Joshua’s hands and pulling them away from the plastic mask. “You need it, sweetheart. You’re sick, and this is making you better, I promise.” When Joshua’s fingers stilled, Seungcheol released his hands, instead pressing back on Joshua’s shoulders, finding very little resistance. “Lay back, that’s it. You need to let your body heal. Don’t fight it.” Joshua whimpered, unable to talk. “I know. It sucks, baby. But I’m right here.”

Joshua nodded, tears running down his cheeks, getting lost in the plastic lining of the oxygen mask. The heart rate monitor slowed to a near steady beat. The nurses gave them a fraction more space. 

Seungcheol took Joshua’s hand again. Squeezed it tight. The leader nodded approvingly when he felt a faint squeeze back. 

And then, without warning, all the color drained from Seuncheol’s face, and he collapsed to the floor, fingers going slack as they slipped away from Joshua’s hand. 

*

Jeonghan was already splayed across the couch when Chan walked in the next morning. The younger man expected his hyung to be cooped up in his room most of the day, nursing the cold he’d been suffering through the night before. The humidifier seemed to have helped; Chan had heard significantly less ‘sick person’ noise after their exchange. But, looking at Jeonghan now, Chan wasn’t so sure. The older vocalist looked incredibly pale with the exception of a pink flush dusting his cheeks and nose. Even the positioning of his body looked pained; Chan couldn’t fully explain how that was true, but just, something about the pajama pants and old hoodie and the one leg bent with the other straight and the arm thrown across his eyes… Jeonghan looked the epitome of suffering. 

As if to qualify Chan’s inner thoughts, Jeonghan groaned, pathetic as anything. 

The younger man snorted. “You good there, hyung?”

Jeonghan begrudgingly removed the arm he had thrown across his eyes. “I have forgotten what it is like to smell and taste things.” His voice was thick with disuse and the build up of all the gross the medicine hadn’t cleared yet. 

Chan outright chuckled this time, shaking his head. “I would ask how you slept, but it’s clear from the level of drama that it wasn’t well.” Jeonghan attempted to throw a pillow at him, missing terribly. Chan chuckled again. “Did the humidifier help at all?”

“It helped a lot, actually. Thank you,” Jeonghan answered, a genuine smile replacing his petulant scowl. “It helped me breathe through the pain.” He sniffled dramatically for emphasis.

“Then what kept you awake?”

“Everything huuurtsssss,” Jeonghan whined, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Chan pouted sympathetically as he moved to sit on the couch opposite Jeonghan. “Seriously, every part of my body aches.”

“I can only imagine. My whole body hurts too, and I’m not even sick on top of that,” Chan replied, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, you try three days of concerts with the cold from hell…”

Chan’s eyebrows furrowed. “Three days? Hyung, you’ve been sick for three days?”

Jeonghan nodded, sniffling. “Yeah?”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?”

A shrug. “Did it matter?”

Chan shrugged this time. “I mean, yeah. The weather’s been so shitty. That had to be terrible for you.”

Jeonghan scoffed, the noise upsetting his sore throat and prompting a cough. “It is what it is. I’m just glad it was me and not someone else.”

“That’s not the point.” 

“Well I don’t have anything else to say on the topic. So pick another one, or leave me to my wallowing.”

Chan rolled his eyes, pulling his phone from his hoodie pocket. Silence spread between them for only a moment before Chan opened the group chat…

“Oh shit.” Jeonghan glanced over in curiosity, getting worried when he saw the way Chan sat forward, staring at his phone. “Have you seen the group chat?”

“No?”

“Shua’s in the hospital.” 

Jeonghan sat up faster than either of them thought possible with an unrestrained, “WHAT?!” He instantly regretted shouting so loud, and moving so fast, as he was hit with a coughing fit that wasn’t helped at all by a violent wave of dizziness. Chan stood up, ready to help, but Jeonghan waved him off, swallowing harshly. He motioned for Chan to explain more. 

The maknae looked back at his phone, worrying at his lower lip. “I don’t know much. Kyeomie messaged around 2 in the morning that one of the managers was on their way to take Joshua to the hospital. That he’d found him burning up and struggling to breathe. And Seungcheollie was going to go with them.” Chan looked up at Jeonghan, looking young and scared. “Cheollie then messaged later that everything’s fine, they’ve got Shua stable and on an IV for meds and fluids, but tests still haven’t come back to tell us what’s wrong.” Jeonghan didn’t know what to say to comfort him. Especially when he watched the younger man scrutinizing him closer. “Come to think of it, hyung, haven’t you been experiencing the same symptoms?”

Jeonghan shrugged, attempting to act casual. “I can breathe moderately well, thank you…”

“But like…” Chan shook his head, trying to scramble together words. “What if you have the same bug? What if you eventually need to go the…”

“Channie-bug, I promise you, I’m fine.” The cough that followed his statement was an absolute contradiction, but Jeonghan waved it off. “It’s nothing more than a bad cold. I’ve had worse. We all have. And, honestly…” He shook his head, the quirk of his lips revealing inner thoughts he didn’t want to say out loud. “I got Shuji sick in the first place…”

“Hyung…”

Jeonghan held up a hand, unwilling to allow Chan to either badger him about going to the doctor too or assure him Joshua being hospitalized wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t sure which one he actually needed more right now, and wasn’t willing to think about either. “BUT! Just because it is the same bug doesn’t mean shit. Germs hit people differently, ya know? My immune system may be in the trenches right now, but it’s still kicking. Besides, Cheol said Shuji’s stable, yeah? Sometimes all you need are those good hospital meds and you’re good as new.” 

“I guess…”

“Channie.” The younger man looked up, surprised by the serious tone in his hyung’s voice. As unwell as he looked, Jeonghan’s stare was one of the most comforting things Chan could remember seeing in a long time. “I swear to you that I feel okay at this moment. I will let you, or someone else if you aren’t here, know that second that changes, if it changes. Okay?”

Chan nodded, his hyung’s resolve reassuring him. “Okay.”

But the voice of worry inside him didn’t completely disappear. 

*

When Seungcheol came to, he was confused. He heard unfamiliar voices. There was a beeping sounding from somewhere close by. The lights were harsher than the ones at the dorm or the studio. Harsher than stage lights, really. Maybe that had to do with the white walls and floors and ceilings…

There were hands pulling at him. He felt distant from his own body, as if he were simply a child’s toy. He allowed his body to be manipulated by the hands, trusting them fully.

The hands pushed and pulled into a seated position. Since when was he lying down?

The hands attempted to pull him to his feet. His legs crumpled. The hands caught him. Kept him up. 

It felt nice to be supported by the hands. 

Then everything went dark again.

*

Joshua watched the nurses scrape Seungcheol up from the floor. His hand, the one Seungcheol had only just been holding, was still reaching towards his leader, his friend, his brother. Joshua felt helpless, unable to speak or move or do anything but watch as his Cheollie was dragged out of the room. Away from him. 

Joshua was crying, trying to be quiet about it. Cheollie needed the doctor’s attention now. 

Still, one of the nurses had stayed with him, and she frowned. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay. He’s in the best place possible to faint, yeah?” Joshua looked up at her, eyes so round and misty and scared and confused and… the nurse had never fully gotten used to seeing that look on her patients. It still broke her heart. But it also reminded her why she’d pursued this job in the first place. “I promise you, your friend is in good hands. I need you to focus on you right now. The best thing you can do for him is allow your own body to heal, okay? And I’m here to help you do that. Sound good?” 

Joshua nodded. 

The nurse smiled. “Great. Now, I can either tell you what’s happening or not. Sometimes people don’t want to know. Do you want me to explain what’s going on?” Joshua nodded. “We’re still waiting on some tests, but you have an advanced upper repository infection. Likely pneumonia. Your breathing was really unstable when you arrived, and that’s why we need you to wear that mask for at least fifteen more minutes. Then we’ll be able to judge how best to treat you. Does that make sense?” Joshua nodded again, but the nurse saw that his eyes had once again welled up with tears. She clicked her tongue, grabbing his hand gently, rubbing her thumb over his skin. She felt Joshua give her a tiny squeeze back. “How can I help?” She mimed removing the mask so he could talk. 

Joshua’s other hand was shaking as he lifted the oxygen mask and whispered, “I want my mom.”

The nurses felt her heart constrict with sympathy “I can call her? Ask her to come visit?”

Joshua shook his head, his face screwing up as he let the mask fall back into place. “I can’t…”

“His mom lives in the United States.” The nurse jumped as Joshua’s manager appeared next to her. Of course he was still here; she’d forgotten about him while focused on her patient. But she nodded in understanding. 

The manager moved to Joshua’s other side, running a soothing hand through his hair. “I know it’s so hard to not have your mom close right now, bud. How about we Facetime her in a few hours?” Joshua nodded, but the tears didn’t stop. The manager smiled warmly, still working his fingers through Joshua’s hair. The nurse couldn’t help but smile too. 

*

“So let me get this straight.” Soonyoung clasped his hands together, pointing them somewhat accusingly at Jeonghan. “You, Seuncheol, and Joshua all got sick before the concert and didn’t tell anyone. You performed all three days. Now, both Cheollie and Shua were admitted to the hospital due to complications from that illness, and you think you don’t need to go too?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Soonyoung threw his hands up in defeat, looking to Wonwoo for back up. The rapper shrugged. “Why not, hyung?” To be fair, Wonwoo was hardly awake and had just walked in for a cup of coffee when he’d been dragged into the living room by Soonyoung and Chan. 

Jeonghan shrugged again. “I’m just built different.” The hacking cough that followed his statement did nothing to inspire confidence. 

“He’s been doing that all morning. All night too,” Chan added helpfully (or unhelpfully from Jeonghan’s perspective.) 

Wonwoo blinked as both Soonyoung and Chan looked at him expectantly, (obviously, Soonyoung had tried his bit and it hadn’t worked.) The taller man shrugged. “If hyung doesn’t want to go to the hospital, we can’t force him to.” Soonyoung scoffed in frustration, spinning on his heels and out of the room. Chan simply pouted at Wonwoo, obviously attempting to change his mind. 

“See, this is why you’re my favorite,” Jeonghan said. 

“Why’s he your favorite?” Seungkwan asked as he joined the group. 

Chan crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “Because hyung’s being a stubborn jerk.” Seungkwan’s eyes slid to Jeonghan. From the way his brow furrowed, Jeonghan realized Chan and Soonyoung had just found their next ally. 

“What, do I look that good?” the elder vocalist joked. Seungkwan straight up frowned at  the sound of his voice. Jeonghan sighed. Today was going to be a long day… unless he just… gave into their suggestions…

But Jeonghan knew he couldn’t do that. Sure, Soonyoung and Chan and Seungkwan were currently frustrated with him. That was just a disguise for their worry, though, their fear. it was unsettling to have not one, but two of their hyungs already down for the count. And in such a scary way too; hospital was never a word anyone wanted to hear. So Jeonghan had to stay strong. He couldn’t deny being sick, that ship had sailed, but he knew he wasn’t hospital-level sick. And his members, his younger brothers, needed to know he was okay. 

So Jeonghan would be okay. 

*

The second time Seungcheol came to, he was incredibly confused. He still had no idea where he was. The lights were still too harsh to be the ones in the dorms. The bed beneath him and the blankets tucked over him certainly weren’t his own. Wait. When had he laid down in a bed? When had he fallen asleep? When…? Where…? Why…?

“Don’t think too hard.”

Seungcheol turned his head to the side to see Jeonghan curled up in a chair next to his bed. The vice leader was wearing hospital-issued pajamas, the shirt sleeves sticking out of a sweatshirt Seungcheol recognized as Wonwoo’s. He was also wearing fuzzy socks that were obviously Hoshi’s, given their black and orange striped pattern. 

“What… the fuck?” Seungcheol managed to whisper. His voice was raspy, caught on a lump in his throat that made him cough. 

Jeonghan snorted. “Hey, watch your language. This is a hospital.”

“Hospital?”

Jeonghan nodded. “You and a manager brought Shuji here in the wee hours of the morning. You insisted on staying with him after he was admitted. You passed out pretty soon after that. Turns out the stress of seeing Shua sent your temperature through the roof.”

Seungcheol blinked slowly, his brain struggling to retain all of that information. He swallowed, wincing. “How do you know all that?” “I don’t.” Jeonghan shrugged, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “But it seems likely enough, right?” 

“He’s right.” Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s attention snapped to the door where Joshua was leaning against the frame. He was pulling an IV pole with him as he entered, but it didn’t slow him at all as he moved immediately to the bed, climbing in next to Seungcheol, curling up against his friend’s side. “You did pass out. Just for a second, but it really freaked us all out.”

Seungcheol paused, settling his arms around Joshua, appreciating the feeling of having his friend so close. A memory tugged at his mind: Joshua with the oxygen mask. Joshua looked better than that memory; he didn’t look quite so weak and helpless, a little more like himself. Definitely still pale, still unwell, but more Joshua. 

“Why are we all in the hospital?” Seungcheol asked, blinking blearily between his friends. 

“Pneumonia,” Joshua answered, resting his head against Seungcheol’s shoulder. Seungcheol’s eyes widened comically. His heart monitor picked up speed. He looked to Jeonghan for confirmation. The vocalist nodded sadly. 

The leader turned back to Joshua. “You’re kidding.” Joshua shook his head. Seungcheol’s head fell back against his pillow, incredulous. “I thought that… isn’t that only when you get, like, water in your lungs?”

“That’s one way, yeah, but it’s also just the worse form of a cold,” Jeonghan said. “Which, I will admit, I gave you both. So, sorry about that.” 

“No, you can’t take the blame like that,” Joshua replied, shaking his head against Seungcheol’s chest, either unable or unwilling to life his head. “We all chose to perform despite feeling icky.”

“Icky?” Jeonghan smirked. 

Joshua waved a hand, hitting him virtually. “You got a better word for it?”

Jeonghan laughed, the sound bubbling into a particularly phlegmy cough. He shook his head, rubbing at his chest. “Nah, you’re exactly right.”

“Wait, how come you aren’t IV’d or anything?” Seungcheol asked suddenly, lifting his head up to fully confirm the statement’s truth. 

Jeonghan shrugged. “My body’s just better. I’m just here for fun.”

“Liar,” Joshua snapped. 

“Fine! I pulled a muscle coughing earlier and Channie cried so I agreed to come here.” 

“Channie saw your muscle pull?” Seungcheol asked in amazement.

“No.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “You can’t actually the muscle pull, dummy. Channie saw me double over in pain after a coughing fit, and wouldn’t stop crying until I let them bring me here.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes widened dramatically. “You traumatized Channie?!” 

“Why are you acting like I’m a criminal?”

“Because you committed CRIMES! You made Channie CRY!” The yelling made him cough, but Seungcheol deemed it worth it. 

“Not on purpose!”

“I’m mad you don’t have an IV,” Seungcheol said matter-of-factly. 

“And the truth comes out…” 

“He’s not as cool as us,” Joshua said, snuggling closer to Seungcheol.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Actually, I AM cooler than both of you. They didn’t give me an IV cause I’m not cooking as high as you two…”

“Cooking?!” Seungcheol interrupted.

“Wait, we have to cook? Isn’t that…” Joshua squinted between the two. “Didn’t you two got banned from…”

Jeonghan waved his hand, cutting them both off. “Bad metaphor, bad metaphor.  My fever’s lower and I’m not in danger of dehydrating. Thus, no IV. While you two jokers are more touch and go. I got a medication drip when they brought me in, but the nurse took it out when it was done, and she said they’ll probably do another one later. But I guess I’m just not as high maintenance as you guys.” Seungcheol scoffed, muttering something about how that just wasn’t true. Jeonghan smirked. “They didn’t need to put me on oxygen either.”

“Shut uuuuuuppp. It was only for a little bit…” Joshua whined, closing his eyes as if remembering a terrible ordeal. 

Seungcheol turned to him. “That’s what the mask was for?” Joshua whined again, a weak hand hitting Seungcheol’s arm. “I’m not mad at you! I really had no idea.”

“There’s no way you didn’t know that,” Jeonghan replied. “Younghwan-nim said you kept muttering about the ‘damn oxygen mask.’”

Seungcheol blinked. “Doesn’t sound like me. I don’t swear in hospitals.”

Joshua laughed, gently smacking the leader’s chest. Jeonghan laughed too. Seungcheol giggled with them. 

Their joy was interrupted by the sound of a terse ‘ahem’ from the doorway. All three members looked up like criminals caught in the act. One of their managers, Younghwan, the first to arrive and now only one left at the hospital with them, was standing with a look of expectation, not quite disappointed but also not quite pleasant either. 

“You guys can’t do anything alone, can you?” he asked. Despite using the joke commonly associated with the 95’s, his tone wasn’t light at all. Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua all remained silent, staring, like little kids waiting for punishment after stealing snacks before dinner. “Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, meeting each boy’s eyes with a look so sincerely hurt, they couldn’t even fathom lying.

“I’m the leader. What would it look like if…” Seungcheol cut himself off, shaking his head. “I thought I could push through for the sake of my team.”

The attention shifted to Jeonghan. “I genuinely thought it was just a cold. Something smaller that didn’t need to even be addressed cause there were bigger issues at hand.”

Joshua’s turn. “Same as Jeonghan. What’s a sore throat compared to a twisted ankle?”

Younghwan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, aware how judgmental that looked but unable to help it. “I hear you guys, I do. But… just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you’re invincible, yeah? You can be sick just like everyone else. You wouldn’t let Chan or Seokmin or Jihoon perform while sick, would you?”

“Not if I could help it,” Seungcheol answered while Jeonghan and Joshua shook their heads. 

“Then you have to hold yourselves to the same standards. At least tell me, yeah?” All three members nodded. Younghwan nodded too. “Okay, good talk. You know, it really sucks to have to scold you when you’re literally in the hospital, right? Why do you have to make my job harder?” 

Jeonghan smiled at the teasing tone creeping into their manager’s voice. “Go big or go home, right?” 

*

All three were, thankfully, released from the hospital within the next 48 hours, mostly out of an abundance of caution. Sure, the damn oxygen mask had made a reappearance, but this time Joshua was at least coherent enough to put it on himself, and stayed awake and semi-active in Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s conversation while it was on. Sure, Seungcheol had woken up screaming from fever-induced night terrors twice, but this time he had Jeonghan and Joshua to sooth him out of it. Sure, the real pain of a pulled abdominal muscle reared its ugly head after the fact, but Jeonghan didn’t feel the need to hide his true suffering, allowing himself to be fussed over by his friends and the medical professionals. It wasn’t fun by any means, but being together in the hospital made everything feel less… icky. 

Upon returning home, they had strict orders to rest until they’d been completely fever free for at least another 48 hours, and a medication schedule that had quite literally broken Hansol’s brain when they’d tried explaining it to him (to be fair, Hansol had made the mistake of asking after rehearsal when his brain was already fried.) Sure, their members were panicky and overbearing, smothering them in cuddles and their own personal healing remedies, hardly letting them lift a finger because ‘the doctor said you have to rest.’ Sure, it was almost laughable seeing them freeze over a smallest cough or having to ask permission to get up simply go to the bathroom. 

But it was all love. Mingyu called each their families to confirm their favorite comfort foods, double checking he had the recipes right. Soonyoung had insisted on them wearing his fuzzy socks (despite Minghao’s protests that this was really just a campaign for the horanghae agenda.) Seokmin peeked into each of his hyung’s rooms every night, just to make sure they were breathing. 

They would see to it that their hyungs could never hide their suffering from them like that again. And Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua were determined to prove them right. 

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

With the last breath IV

Word count: 1500+

Warnings: mentions of eating disorder

Part III || Part V

This week was a real rollercoaster full of bad luck. But since this chapter is ready I can post it. I'm working on the next one and I'd love to cut it somewhere to make it into two chapters, but can't find good place so it may come out as one really long one.

I'm sorry for any mistakes. English isn't my first language 😅

Several days passed since you woke up in Azriel's bed. You hid the dress soaked in his scent to the bottom of the wardrobe, often sitting down and burying face into the fabric. His scent helped you calm down and scare away bad dreams.

Since that day quite a lot had changed.

At first you thought you were crazy. Things were moving around or suddenly appearing in front of you. Repeatedly you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned around, nobody was there. It took you some time to figure it out. But once you found out there were Azriel's shadows following you around, it didn't scare you anymore. They were quite handy especially when you needed to find something.

As it made you incredibly happy that he cared enough to keep an eye on you, it was also a reminder of the biggest mistake you'd ever done, making you feel down and your stomach twist at times.

The shadows followed you literally everywhere which was sometimes really uncomfortable. You were sure they informed him about everything you did on that particular day, but how much exactly did they tell him? It was nerve wrenching. You could only hope they would keep sensitive information to themselves.

Another big change was the shadowsinger himself. As soon as you entered the library he was there. No matter where you worked or how many times you had to move to another floor during the day, you always spotted him somewhere nearby reading book or doing some paperwork.

The first few days it made you nervous and you couldn't really concentrate on work. Even if you tried you wouldn't be able to count how many times you caught yourself staring at him, admiring his beautiful face, strong body, big hands.. and daydreaming. Then somehow you got used to his silent presence. It always made your day seeing him there, making you grin even while aligning and dusting the books.

And that wasn't everything. He often came to you to talk with you. At those moments your heart always started to beat much faster, mouth went dry and your palms started to sweat. It didn't give much sense because after the decades you could hardly call each other acquaintance, strangers more likely, but it was happening. You weren't in position to ask why suddenly he changed his mind so radically, nor you didn't even want to complain. You were happy for this change, giving you a faint hope that maybe.. someday.. you could be at least friends.

When it happened for the first time, you were so shocked you turned red like tomato to the roots of the hair and ran away. Next time you were mentally ready and managed to stutter few words. But you weren't the only one struggling. Azriel seemed to be just as nervous as you. Nevertheless he kept coming even several times a day for word or two. After few days both of you got used to it and were able to talk normally.

First, he would talk to you just about such ordinary things like weather or ask about your wellbeing, but soon enough he started to ask about your current life, past or likes and dislikes.

Lately you spent a lot of time discussing about the books you were reading. You were surprised to find out he read novels and often the ones you liked. He even gave you some recommendations for interesting ones.

You got up early as every morning and prepared for the day. Before leaving the room you checked out the weather and time. 'Should be okay now,' you thought to yourself and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast with few shadows at your heels.

Of course you could eat with other priestesses at dining hall the meal House served you, but there was something relaxing about making your own meal. That's why you always used inner circle's kitchen. But it wasn't the only reason. You didn't like people watching or commenting on how much you put on your plate. You even minded being watched while eating.

During the years living with Mor and Illyrian males here, you figured out their morning routines and knew when no one would be in the kitchen.

What a shock it was when you found out that the kitchen always empty at this time, was occupied. By Azriel!

He was standing behind the kitchen island putting scrambled eggs on the plate. There were already several other plates with toasts, bacon, cut fruits and vegetables set on the table.

He hadn't notice you yet, so there was still chance to get away and let him have his breakfast. You turned around, planing to try your luck later, but the shadows had an idea of their own. They slowly floated around you towards their master.

"Good morning," Azriel said while washing the pan in the sink, back turned to you. His voice was still raspy and that sound made your heart stutter and the heat spread in your lower belly.

"Good morning," you answered, taking a step into the kitchen from you hideaway. You frowned at traitorous shadows, but they just danced around calling you closer. "I'm sorry. I don't want to disturb you. I'll go." You wanted to leave quickly, but he stopped you.

"Would you join me for breakfast?" back still turned to you, he asked. Eyes widening you shifted nervously on your feet. It was too tempting, but it would be just the two of you. You really didn't want to have his full attention while eating. You bit your lower lip, fighting with yourself.

You looked at his strong form still washing already clean pan. You could read the tension in his posture, but you weren't sure what caused it. In the end the heart won the fight and you accepted the invitation. His tense shoulders visibly relaxed.

Azriel put the pan away and took two plates and glasses. As he turned to the table his lightly flushed cheeks came into view. With shiny eyes of hazel colour with golden flecks he smiled shyly at you which you returned. This side of him was new to you and you were more than eager to learn more. You'd never seen him behave like this with other females. A small flame of hope lit up in your chest.

Your heart was beating faster with each step you took towards the table. You halted before sitting down, examining food on plates. Suddenly you became nauseous. The food looked yummy and smelled amazing, but there was too much. Much more than two people could possibly eat.

"Is something wrong?" Azriel asked noticing your pale face. His eyes slightly narrowed.

"It looks amazing," you tried to smile. "Is Cassian coming too?"

"He's training with priestesses right now," Azriel tilted his head to the side with unreadable expression, few strands of dark hair falling into his eyes. "Do you want him to come?"

"No," you said quickly. "It's just.. there's so much food.." You felt the heat burning your cheeks.

"It should be enough for two of us," he said, a smirk tugged corners of his mouth upward. You had nothing to say to that, so you just swallowed hard and sat down. Azriel handed you plate and started filling his own. Following his example you took a piece of bacon and a bit of scrambled eggs.

"Would you like some freshly baked bread? It's from that new bakery on the bank of Sidra that opened last week," Azriel offered you. With nervous smirk you took small piece.

You started to eat. Taking the first bite of eggs you blinked in surprise, nervousness forgotten for awhile.

"It's so delicious. I didn't know you can cook so good,"you looked at him grinning. He blushed, but grinned too.

"I'm glad if you like it."

"I love it." You took another bite and then another. While you were eating Azriel kept offering you different goodies he'd prepared until you tried at least a piece of everything on the table. By the time you finished you were so full you thought you were going to burst. It was the most delicious food you'd ever eaten, but you were sure you won't be able to eat anything till next morning.

Azriel finished last bits and together you cleaned the table and washed dishes.

"Thank you for amazing meal," you said as you put last plate to its place.

"Thank you for keeping me company," he leaned against the counter putting his hands into the pockets of trousers. "Are you going to the library?"

"No, it's still too early. I thought I would return to my room and read for awhile."

"I see." His smile faded for a second, but it was back in a blink of eye. "So.. I guess I'll see you later."

With that you returned to your room thinking about his unusual behaviour and about the huge change that happened since he saved you. Even though it was still new to you and hard to believe, you liked it and hoped it's real. With every second you spent with him your heart swelled with love and you fell harder for him.

[ritzrawt]

MSM HEADCANONS!!!

About: the Wublins and their creator, Zerkett! This list will have less general info, and more stuff about some individuals.

5/2/2025 Edit: some of this info is outdated

6/26/2025 Edit: ACTUALLY LOTS OF STUFF HERE IS CRINGE AND OUTDATED DO BOT LISTEN TO IT

Zerkett:

-Zerkett’s lab is really messy, with various materials and sketches scattered everywhere.

-They view the Wublins less as their children, and more as playmates, but this mindset slowly faded away with the introduction of the rare Wublins.

-They have 50 years of college education under their belt, including 27 years at Count Nebulob’s Mad Scientist University and 23 years at art school.

-Because of their endless ideas and inventing, Zerkett is often very exhausted. Their favorite thing to consume is a jug of coffee with a full cup of sugar.

-They are often busy, and don’t get to spend a lot of time with the Wublins, but they try their best to bond with them when they can.

-Sometimes, they feel very overwhelmed by all of the Wublins, and doubt their skills as a “parent”. They don’t want the Wublins to feel sad and left behind like they did when Galvana turned to stone. Some monsters accuse Zerkett of being a horrible parent for not exactly knowing what their children are doing off the island due to being so busy. Many of the Wublins get involved in things Zerkett wouldn’t approve of if they were there.

-Very tech savvy, considering their work with machinery, and the fact that their island would literally be called Electricity Island if they weren’t an etymology fanatic. This is a stark contrast to the 1920s themed Rare Wubbox living rent-free on the island.

Thwok:

-Due to being one of the oldest of the Wublins, they are very responsible and intelligent.

-At age 7, they already graduated college and later got into business and politics, along with occasional food reviewing and playing in bands. Wublins look the same no matter how old they are, as they’re artificial, so no one questions it. They are rarely ever seen on Wublin Island bc they’re always busy.

-Before going to college, Thwok went through a short emo phase. IMO their outfits slayed.

-Their voice is like the English dub Kyoya Otori. They sort of act that way too.

-Thwok’s tongue can stretch up to 10 feet. They don’t produce saliva despite being able to taste.

-The pegs on their head can be controlled to produce electriciy.

-Thwok can sprint in heels.

-Thwok is SICK and TIRED of everyone shipping them with one of the other Wublins (80% of the time it’s Whajje.) I personally believe that the Wublins share a sibling-like bond, so there isn’t any romance, but if you ship them I won’t judge.

-Like Blipsqueak, Thwok has many connections with people in the Human world along with ones in the Monster world. This makes up a good portion of why the Wublin family is super rich.

Rattle-Guts (Rare Bona-Petite)

-Rare Bona and rare Petite changed their name to Rattle and Guts respectively.

-Both enjoy eating, but Guts is somehow able to eat way more than Rattle. Where any of that food goes is a mystery.

-They are influencers who post blogs about their daily life and current events. They work under their manager, an epic Whisp named Phara Mona.

-Sometimes they act in movies, such as Maw IV.

-Rattle acts supercilious and cold, but is actually insecure.

- They don’t like their lack of fur, and wear fake fur to hide it.

- Their horns and claws aren’t naturally orange. They paint it that way.

-They have a deep, husky, masculine voice.

-They appear to not have eyes, but they do. Their small, yellow dot pupils are only visible when they feel strong emotion.

-Rattle doesn’t usually talk, as Guts often talks for them. Some monster on the internet thought that Rattle could only ever communicate in scoffs and grumbles. The internet made fun of that guy for the next three weeks.

-Guts is the more sociable of the two, and does most of the conversations at social gatherings. This causes some remarking on how Rattle is more of an accessory to Guts. Guts doesn’t like these comments at all.

-They have a high pitched, boyish and kinda scratchy voice.

-Unlike the common Petite, who often stays in Bona’s ribcage or walks on the ground, Guts almost always resides on Rattle’s head. The only times they get off is when sitting at a table, playing the Wublin island song, sleeping, when they feel scared, and that one time when they had a huge fight.

-Guts is physically weak, but they make up for it in their skill in using weapons. They are also a bit more intelligent than Rattle in academics.

-Despite being more sociable, Guts can sometimes be jealous of Rattle. They were bigger and more noticeable, so they often got more attention than Guts. Many monsters also thought that Rattle looked prettier than Guts, which made both of them uncomfortable.

-Phara Mona wants their relationship to be a sibling rivalry, but their actual relationship doesn’t have anything more than some bickering, so they make them act like they don’t really like each other. One time, Phara Mona manipulated them into actually hating each other for a period of time. It was an awful time.

Whajje:

-They are the lead of a pop dance group called Dream Beam (name may change), which consisted of Whajje, Blipsqueak, and Gettlemear, the rare Pixolotl. They tour all around the monster world, and Pompom is a HUGE fan of them.

-Their feathers can be used to pick up different shows and movies from other dimensions. Whajje was the one who introduced foreign films to Astropod from the Pocket Dimension and the Human World.

-They and Screemu are the OG fashionistas of Wublin Island. Screemu dyes and makes the clothing and Whajje styles it. They offer fashion tips on their YouTube channel.

-If the author were to pick a song that fits their narrative of Whajje the most, they would pick Idol by Yoasobi.

-Out of all the well-known Wublins in the Monster world, Thwok and Whajje are the most popular. This is probably why they get shipped a lot.

-Whajje can also sprint in heels.

-They are very athletic and can run as fast as someone trying to get their homework does as the teacher is collecting it. They can also jump 10 feet into the air.

-Whajje sounds like Michael Kovach with a New York accent.

-Whajje is like that Mom Friend that gives you the best life advice you’ve ever heard. They are very sweet, talkative, confident, and empathetic. However, sometimes they doubt if all the attention they receive is genuine and not just because they are popular. In truth, they really can’t tell the difference.

-Lots of care is put into making sure their feathers look presentable. Every night, Whajje uses needlessly expensive products on JUST the feathers, and before they start the day, they spray a buttload of hairspray into their feathers.

[thebardisabird]

this is the first request ive ever made, but how would the boys react to a classic Bimbo reader? with classic blonde hair, pink clothes, expensive bags and nails, stuff like that😭 this may be a bit strange so dont answer if you dont wanna, i was just curious. thank you so much lmao 😭

We know her, we love her, she’s that girl!

So Osomatsu immediately goes gaga for you. I’m talking heart eyes, drooling, unable to think coherent thoughts kind of enamored. From your pretty long eyelashes, to your super short mini skirt to pink boot heels - he can’t seems to pick a spot where he wants to look! Every single inch of you sings sex appeal and he’s listening very intently. He knows he definitely cannot afford you tho - so he might pull off the same stunt he did for Chibimi and just about sell his soul to get a date with you. (Honestly when I think of all the characteristics you describe matched with Oso I think of @girlymatsu ‘s oc Erina-chan who is super cute and fun, please check them out, you can tell they put a lot of love in their art and you'll absolutely love their oc)

Karamatsu sees your fashion sense and instantly wants to be the Ken to your Barbie. You have this it girl factor that draws him in and with the sway of your hips and the wink of your pink, glittery shadowed eye, he’s completely under your spell. If you so choose to give him the time of day, he pays you compliment after compliment, and will take you out on a date to get coffee or a nice meal depending on what you’d like. If we’re talking about a classic bimbo trope where you’re a little on the less well-read side, then he might find it cute that you don’t really know how to pronounce some of the words of the meals or coffee drinks and he’ll try to use the opportunity to teach you some fancy words. You actually find his poses and flowery speech kinda funny, because he sounds like a poem out loud.

Choromatsu has no idea how you're even talking to him right now. He's seen you plenty of times and never ever imagined you would even say two words to him other than like... "Excuse me" if he was standing in your way. You are so far removed from all the things that encompass his life. Yet when you tell him that his favorite has super cute outfits and that you were thinking about becoming one yourself because you love the idea of all the glitz and glamour it brings, he short-circuits. You're already so gorgeous, to think of you being in cutesy outfits and dancing around? And he's allowed to talk to you? Associate with you??? The man is ready to die happy. But not as happy as when you dress up in his favorite idol's outfit - only it looks ten times better on you because your bigger chest and ass. While you don't exactly understand his love for anime, manga, and other more nerdy things, you humor him because he's just so cute when his little froggy face lights up the way it does!

Ichimatsu is intimidated entirely by you and will actively go out of his way to avoid you. You are like a beacon of light far too bright and undeserving for him to ever even get close to. Luckily for him, you notice one day that he's looking into the window of a cat cafe and you finally tap him on his shoulder and ask about whether he likes cats or not. It takes about everything he has not to throw up on the spot, but he is seriously questioning his life and whether or not some god above is about to smite him. You try to explain to him that you actually really love kitties as you point to your kitten paw choker and show him your baby pink matching kitten paw nails. At some point he realizes that you're not fucking with him and he slides out of fight or flight mode and into general nervousness. It takes a while before you can actually get him to speak (you're literally such a bombshell against his disheveled-ness, he feels very grateful that he's conscious enough to give you short answers instead of fainting like his body wants him to), but you eventually give him your number. When you part ways, then he slumps to the ground, but with the tiniest of smiles on his face.

Jyushimatsu actually makes you nervous. It's very clear that you're super attractive and bubbly, but there is a genuine sweetness to him that makes him stick out from all the other meatheads who try to normally get your attention. The yellow clad matsu isn't very subtle about staring at you and your appearance, but you honestly don't mind it when he says things like "Your hair reminds me of the sun!" or "You look like a pretty pink cloud today, haha!" The guy is just so adorable it makes you giggle. And when he smiles right back (even bigger than his usual grin), it makes you blush a bit. You end up leaving lipgloss on his cheeks all the time because you just find him so cute.

Todomatsu can't get enough of you once he gets to know you! You two feed off of each other's cutesy personalities. And since pink is both of your signature colors, you guys end up matching outfits a lot. Though the price to pay with you two being so matchy-matchy is that everyone else literally cannot stand being around you two lol. But that's fine to either of you because you both just chalk it up to them being rude and jealous and you pay it no mind...it's either that dynamic orrrrr you end up hating each others guts because only one of you can be the cutest in Akatsuka. Though that scenario ends up in an enemies to lovers situation because even though Todomatsu says he can't stand you - he definitely admits to himself (and only to himself at first) that you are positively gorgeous and the only person worthy of being at his level of pretty in pink.

[anodetoswag]

Pelagic

Act IV

Summary: Home is where it stinks of dead rodents.

Masterlist

It’s easy to tell you’re lying. The problem is that you don’t seem eager to budge either. It’s been a good ten minutes since Aizawa was forced to watch Hizashi try every trick, the pendulum swings from petty bribing to even pettier threatening, only for you to remain unresponsive. 

Having been the sole spectator of this tomfoolery for long enough, Aizawa moves to release you from the rope. It’s clear this is going nowhere so there is little point in keeping you here. 

You don’t move immediately though your body seems unusually tense, as if getting ready to decide between fight and flight. “You can go,” he drawls. “We’re done asking what we wanted to know.” 

You move towards the exit of the alleyway, walking slowly with your eyes darting between the two men. Once you’re far enough, you turn on your heel and run without looking back. There’s only one destination in mind, only one objective; Neito. 

-

If his life were to be made into a play then this act would certainly be titled A Series of Unfortunate Events. Lady luck seems to have forsaken him. Not once, not twice but thrice that Neito had tried, only to be not a single penny richer by the evening. 

It’s what always happens when the two of you separate. As much as he mout and mop, he finds himself seeking you out just as ire gives way to despondency. Though more often than not, you come looking for him before that happens. 

You haven’t today. 

That has him at the edge of the seat, if one could call the decaying wood that he’s sitting on while lamenting his existence a seat at all. 

Somewhere in his heart, Neito wonders if he’ll pine and die one of these days. He’s a creature of pride (dignity; as he’d argue). You’re essential though, both for his body and his soul. Sometimes he’d be overcome by the despicable nature of his own thoughts; tell him you don’t care for him the way he does about you. His solution is to tell himself that it matters not, for he hardly cares about you to begin with. To Neito, you’re worth only as much as the number of meals you can help put on the table. 

And yet, when he catches sight of you hurrying towards him, his legs betray him and so does his heart. Relief that settles in his chest is short lived, replaced by perturbation as soon as two of you get close enough. 

“Had a nice detour, did we,” he sneers. 

When your eyes meet his. Even without any words exchanged, Neito can tell you’ve had it worse. With anyone else, he’d be impervious, if not belittle and poke. 

“I’m sorry.”

Generally, you’d come bearing gifts. Mostly a humble handful of berries from the forest, or on occasion even a whole meal. Today, you’re empty handed and yet it might be the sincerest of all apologies. 

The embers of resentment die down as soon as they had begun catching flame. “Let’s go home.” 

Home isn’t much. It’s far too small, the wood is old, mouldy and decaying. There’s a smell of something ever present but you’ve gotten too used to it to complain anymore. Not Neito though, he complains everytime he sets his foot inside. 

“Smells like death.”

Despite the bitter grumble, it has an almost charming quality to it. It establishes some sort of mundanity, a reassurance that everything is just as it was. 

“If you snore, I’ll violently hit you in the face with this pillow.” 

“It’s a plank.”

“Every diamond is a coal once. “

You eye him with the judgment clear in your expression. “That’s really not something that is applicable in this situation.”

Even in the dark, you can tell he rolls his eyes as he settles with his back to you.

The thing is that sometimes home reeks of fish and rodents but once you’re curled up beside Neito for the night, it feels like every other home; safe and yours.

______________________________________________________________

Finally got this done. Also I'm struggling to find an on-theme divider so if anyone finds anything befitting, please let me know.

[undressmewithyoureyes]

KING - (NINE)

KONIG

Hearing her say my name makes my dick even harder - painful even. Sure, I have whores around base that I like to use to relieve some much needed pressure, but ever since I made her my mission, I've remained abstinent, and its getting harder to control. I have a plan for my little devil, but I don’t know if I will be able to draw it out as much as I want to. 

“Sounds like wheels up tomorrow,” Three says with a shit grin on his face. He knows how bad I want her. The bodies I would stack getting to her. She doesn’t know it yet, but I'm what she is missing. Either way, she will learn to love it. And if not, she will learn to live with it. 

My eyes go to Three and he can see the excitement in mine. Sure, my mask covers everything, but my eyes - but even my green orbs can show my mood. “I thought so,” he says with his grin getting even wider - showing his straight white teeth. He turns on heel and heads to my door - shutting it behind him. Leaving me alone with my thoughts and the one words coming off her lips that she will learn to scream - my name. 

She's planning on going against a fucking invisible person who only shows up when theres already a knife in your back. Ive seen the guy once, and I was impressed - which says a lot. Not much impresses me. 

I lean back in my chair and rest my head back against the top part of it, staring at the ceiling. I have multiple plans going through my head with how I want this to go tomorrow. I need it to be perfect, with little room for error. Correction, no room for error. 

I lean up and grab my cell, unlocking it and pressing Three’s contact. It rings twice before he answers, “Miss me already?” The humor in his voice tells me he’s excited about tomorrow too. If anyone else would address me that way, I would personally rip their tongue from their mouth and pull each tooth individually so they wont be able to speak at all - but Three is my right hand man. One I'm the most lenient with.

“Grab some men and meet me in the briefing room in thirty. We need to go over how I want tomorrow to go,” I tell him. He doesn’t say anything and hangs up. Again, its Three and I know I wont have to worry about him letting me down. 

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

Im the last one in the briefing room. Three grabbed six other men - so that will make eight all together. Perfect. It gives each of them their own person since theres now six on the Task Force. Seven if you count Nik, but I know he’ll be operating the helo. Two extra men on my side means less I have to worry about. I care about my men as long as they get the job done, but dying means they failed me. Cold hearted, I know, but in this type of world it will chew you up and shit you out for shits and giggles. 

“Gentleman,” I say as I walk to the front of the room. The doors are at the back of the room and the room slants down. I know its weird for men who kill people to sit with their back to the doors, but it keeps them on high alert - not knowing who will come through the door…so I'm doing them a favor by keeping their senses strong. A little reverse psychology. 

They each nod their head as I pass by - its a way to show their respect. As I've said before, Im a King and this is my Kingdom. Kings get bowed at from their courts to show their respect and I expect no difference. Three stands at the front room with his arms crossed over his chest, leaned against the wall. 

“Tomorrow is an important day. The mission on hand is one that will go smoothly,” I pause, “So pay attention. Any error and you will suffer at my hands.” Each man, besides Three, nods their head in agreement. Im proud of my team. I train strong men. Women in this field cant handle my training, so they usually tend to wounds or meals. It may seem sexist, but they are given the same treatment as my men, they just cant handle it.

My mind goes to my little devil. I know she will be able to handle me - whether she likes it or not. My heart accelerates a bit more knowing tomorrow she will be with me - putting up a fight, I hope. “Its a kill and capture mission,” I say. “Bamberg, Germany is the location. Alex Igor is the secondary suspect. As you all know, he’s a main weapons trade dealer, but the main person of interest, is a guy named UNKNOWN.” My eyes drift around the room as I see a few men tense. If I'm being honest, the dude sends a faint chill down my spine too, but not enough to make me flinch. 

“But that isn’t the mission,” I say as I turn to Three. He’s still leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, but with that same smirk across his face. I look out at my team for tomorrow and their brows scrunch in confusion, “Task Force 141 will be there to interrogate Alex - hoping to find a location on UNKNOWN.”

“So we take out 141?” My eyes divert to the left of the room to the sandy blonde. Jeremy Flogs. Everyone used to call him flogger thanks to his last name on his old team - that was until he tackled the guy to the ground and gouged the dudes eyes out with his thumbs. He was discharged and banned from that team. I however took him in and gave him a higher rank. This dude is nasty in hand to hand combat.

“No,” I say firmly. “We kill any of Igors guys. Task Force 141 remains unharmed.” 

The men in front of me look around at each other. I know they are waiting for me to laugh or change my mind. “Colonel, we’ve been trying to take them out for years…,” Zeke says sitting in front of me - another recruit with anger issues. 

“Im aware,” I say as I lean against the desk behind me and cross my foot over the other - as well as my arms, “Im saving them for something special.”

“So who are we capturing? UNKNOWN?” Jeremy asks. 

If they could see the devilish smirk beneath my mask, “Widow.” Everyone freezes at the mention of her name. No one other than Three knows my intentions with her. Of course, everyone else here thinks Im going to torture and kill her like everyone else wants too. To say they won the biggest trophy. The biggest fish in the sea, but the only way I will take her life is if she takes mine too.

“You all do what you have to do. Just because I instructed that 141 doesn’t die, doesn’t mean they go unharmed. Widow is mine and everyone in this room does what they deem necessary. Anyone else, is free game and handle them how you want,” I say as I get off the desk to walk out of the briefing room. “Wheels up at 1500 and don’t disappoint me,” I finish off as I close the door. 

I feel like a kid on Christmas - well a normal kid. I didn’t have the loving parents who showered their offsprings with gifts. I was lucky to have a warm meal and a soft place to sleep, but this, this is what it must’ve felt like waiting on a non existent person to arrive with nonsense. 

I walk the halls of the base to the lot outside. My house isn't far from here and although I have a room set up, I prefer sleeping in my own home…in my own bed. Plus, theres a few extra things I need to do before I bring home my…present. 

I exit out and the cool night engulfs me. Even with my gear still on, I can still feel it wrap around me. I dig into the pocket of my black tactical pants and pull out my key fob to my all black Porsche 911. I click the unlock button twice and hear my doors unlock. Footsteps approaching me causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand. Its too late out here for anyone to be coming up to me. 

I stop and turn on heel as a familiar face stands before me.

Whitney. 

“You haven’t been returning my calls,” she says as she reaches out and runs her hand down my arm to my hand. 

I turn my body, making her hand fall and giving her a hint to not touch me. “If I wanted to talk to you Whitney, I would’ve answered.” She's one of the nurses here on my base, and one of the few who took care of more than a few bandages on me. 

She scoffs, but then tries to recoup by bringing her hand up again to my arm, “I was thinking, since its been a few months, I could help relieve some str-“

I grab her wrist before she touches my arms and squeeze - not only cutting off her sentence, but also the circulation to her hand. I feel something pop in her wrist and something tells me to break it fully, “Konig, you’re hurting me.” 

“You think I fucking care?,” I say with my voice low. “You obviously don’t know boundaries. So here, let me help you,” I say with gritted teeth as I squeeze a little harder - making a yelp come out of her, “You were just a one time fuck. Your mouth was good for a few times, but don’t think you and I will ever be anything Whitney. You’re just like the rest of the insecure whores out there. Now find someone else to fuck,” I say as I fling her wrist from my hands. She falls to the ground, tears streaming down her face as she cradles her wrist in her other hand. 

I get to my car and get in - driving off and not giving a fuck about the whore in the rear view. Theres a reason why I haven’t touched Whitney or anyone else in the last few months. Ive never came in a woman - well not in their pussy anyway. Many times down their throats, but theres only one woman who will get that luxury. And I'm saving as much of my cum as I can to load into her. She’ll learn to enjoy it. Love it and by the time I'm done with her, it will be too late for anyone else to save her. 

[theflyingfeeling]

sooooo here's a bit of Olli/Allu something I wrote shortly after Emma Gaala 2024. I'm probably gonna regret posting this because 🫣 but I just reeeeeeaally love how this one turned out 💔

~

i.

[in the bedroom]

The tinkle of her earrings. The clack of her high heels against the laminate flooring. The click of a lipstick case closing. The beep of an incoming message, informing their cab has arrived.

It’s all too loud for Aleksi to handle, deafening in the middle of all that silence. He’d rush out of the house to escape it, but he’s still not wearing any shoes. 

He stares at the two pairs by his feet. The other is white, spotless, unused (unloved). The black leather ones Olli once said looked cool. 

He chooses the white ones.

ii.

[in the cab]

Sleet on the glass. Streetlights blinding him through the glossy view. The reds and the yellows tinted dark through the black hue of the backseat window. The back of the driver’s headrest becomes blurry, so Aleksi rubs his eyes.

They don’t talk, but that’s nothing new. She’s on her phone or stares out on her side of the car, at her side of the world. Aleksi stares at his own and wonders if hers is as gloomy as his.

Only a small Mercedes, yet the entire Grand Canyon between them. A spacey tour bus, yet Aleksi was always drawn to Olli like a magnet. It’s laughable, and the others do laugh at it, do make fun of them, and Aleksi ignores it, because what else was he supposed to do. Olli laughs along, because of course he does, because he isn’t stuck in the crumbling ruins of a relationship he’s too cowardly to abandon before it collapses on him. 

The Mercedes drives away, but the Grand Canyon stays.

iii.

[on the red carpet]

His new shoes soaked from the first puddle on his way to the venue. His tie like a rope around his neck so he rips it off and drops it in the bin by the door. The champagne glass cold against his hand, icy like the look in her eyes before she turns to the cameras.

Olli would’ve hated it, the flashing lights and the empty questions, would have rolled his eyes at them so only Aleksi could see, and then turn back to give the photographers the most stunning picture any of them would take that evening. She hates it too, though she doesn’t mind hiding it, and (selfishly) Aleksi lets her fake it for them both.

Her hand slithering around his arm, although he’s the snake with the way he wants to slither himself free from it, and with the way his mind is poisoned with guilt and disgust, and with the way he almost sinks to the ground when someone wearing Olli’s cologne walks past them. 

He was going to need another glass of sparkly wine to get a hold of himself (and to hold something instead of her hand).

iv.

[at the gala]

Joonas’ eyes staring at him from across the table are full of questions Aleksi can’t answer. He’s worried for him, Aleksi knows, but he doesn’t need Joonas’ judgement on top of his own.

“If there’s anything on your mind… you know you can tell me, right?” Joonas said the other day, and Aleksi appreciates the sentiment, but hell would freeze before Aleksi could tell anyone what was on his mind, never mind it’s a one-word answer.

Besides, as long as he leaves it all unsaid, he can still pretend it’s not true. If he keeps quiet, he can still convince himself he’s a good, loving boyfriend who’s not in denial about his feelings for a friend. He says nothing, so nothing ever happened. 

He’s confident about it for about three seconds. Three seconds, and then he notices the text message.

You both looked so good on the red carpet

Three seconds from that, and Aleksi’s thoughts are already somewhere else. 

∞

[in a hotel room]

Heavy breaths. Warm hands. Eyes as dark and terrified as Aleksi’s own. 

His moans. His mouth. His greedy fingers sinking into Aleksi’s hair. Aleksi has no energy, no willpower to stop them.

It happens, and Aleksi lets it happen. It happens, and it’s incredible in all the wrong ways and terrible in all the right ways. It happens, and it’s the best (and worst) thing that ever did happen. 

Olli smells of vanilla and hotel room soap. Somehow the scent is strongest in his neck, so that’s where Aleksi buries his nose and leaves the rest of his tired kisses before they fall asleep.

Olli lets him, so Aleksi supposes he’s not much better than him.

v.

[in the bathroom]

He stares at the text until he can’t see it anymore, until it becomes a blur and mixes with everything else in the message thread (pointless pictures and reckless I-miss-yous at three in the morning). 

‘You looked so good’, but not as good as you did that night, sweaty and breathless next to me. ‘You looked so good’, but not as good as you did when you climbed over me, pinned me down, sank inside me. ‘You both looked so good’, yes, she’s a goddess and you’re every bit as divine as she is, and I deserve neither of you.

And neither of you deserve me, the lowest scum of the earth for playing with you both like this. 

“Ale?” 

He can’t stop his breaths coming out in short gasps and choked sobs. 

“Ale, is everything okay? Should I get–”

“Don't.”

“Can you unlock the door, then? Please? Aleksi, I’m getting worried here. Have you taken something?”

He’s still sobbing when Joonas walks in. The spikes of Joonas’s jacket are rough against his cheek.

This time, Joonas asks no questions, not even with his eyes. There’s only oh, Aleksi, and I wish you’d just tell me already, but the tone isn’t demanding.

“Tomorrow,” Aleksi promises.

vi.

[outside]

Joonas redoes Aleksi's eyeliner and takes his hand. It’s no longer sleeting outside, but Joonas still wants his umbrella from the cloakroom. 

Aleksi reads the text again and squeezes Joonas’ hand. 

I wish you were here.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Joonas offers him a cigarette from the packet he made Aleksi fish from his pocket for him. He takes it and remembers Olli’s drunken cigarette kisses on a summer night in Oulu. 

I wish you were here. 

“Fuck, the wind is cold tonight.”

Aleksi agrees. He listens to Joonas’ nail decorations clink and thinks of Olli’s chain necklace on the bedside table next to his own.

I wish you were here.

“Gonna need another drink to warm up. I hope they’ll have some good whiskey.”

Olli’s lips tasted like whiskey once. Aleksi no longer remembers where it was, only that his own did too the morning after.

I wish you were here.

“Aight. Let’s get back inside?”

Aleksi almost gets too lost in the memory to answer. 

“Yeah, I’m right behind you, just… just need another moment.” 

Joonas looks at him almost long enough for Aleksi to follow him after all (or perhaps open his mouth and tell him everything right there on the street), but leaves eventually. The second he’s gone, Aleksi opens Olli’s text again.

The wind is blowing right through him, but it’s not enough to stop his fingers from moving along the keyboard.

I wish you were here.

That wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew Olli knew that. Hell, sometimes he felt as if the whole fucking world knew that, probably better than he himself did.

I wish you were here, so that we could snicker at Joonas speaking out of his turn in interviews. I wish you were here, so I could find your hand under the table and intertwine our fingers until someone would walk by and we’d get too scared. I wish you were here, so I could whisper you a joke only we find funny. I wish you were here, so I could take you somewhere no one can see us and bite your neck so that everyone will see it afterwards. I wish you were here, so I could take you anywhere else but here, because I can’t take you home with me.

I wish I could take you home with me.

I wish you were her.

[sailorshadzter]

Drogon shows aggression toward Sansa in the field (The dragon mirrors D*ny's feelings). Rhaegal comes to the rescue with Jon racing to Sansa's side. Ends like Hunger Games: Catching Fire when Peeta hit the wall ----- Sansa calms Jon down while outsider POV's realize something about the two.

Thank you!!

anon, i must confess, ive never seen the hunger games! not one of them! so, i couldnt really take any inspiration from that moment you mentioned. hopefully you like this all the same. :)

also, side note, first piece ive written to speak now (taylors version) and it felt soooo good! SO THANKS.

send me prompts

Sansa can’t say what draws her out to the dragon’s field- as they’ve come to call it since their arrival- but her footsteps lead her out to it all the same. A cold sense of anticipation flutters through her limbs but she cannot quite call it fear, but rather, she is intrigued by the beasts that once were thought long dead to the world. She knows what she’s doing is absolutely stupid, reckless, and she can hear Brienne and Arya both scolding her fiercely even now as she walks, though it does not deter her as she makes her way to the field. 

As she steps through the line of trees, she can hear it, the low rumble of the black-scaled dragon that sits several yards away, its wings tucked against its back, its head low as it rips apart what she can only assume is a sheep. The other dragon, the greenish one, she sees is not here, perhaps off hunting something of its own. With her first foot step onto the field, the dragon raises its head, ever so slightly, those hellish red eyes staring back at her as a wisp of smoke escapes its open jaws. Drogon, she knows this one is called, the larger of the two dragons and certainly the Targaryen queen’s favorite. Of the two, she also knows this one to be a bit more aggressive, more like his mother than perhaps anyone else might dare to say. “I haven’t come to hurt you,” she calls out, softly, hopefully, gloved hands rising up in a gesture of fealty. “Mere curiosity,” she continues, knowing the dragon likely doesn’t even understand her. She wishes now that she knew even a small phrase in the dragon queen’s native tongue, for perhaps then she might say something to the dragon it would know. 

Well, beyond that one phrase, she supposes. 

Back at Winterfell, Jon is suddenly overcome with a sense of dread that he cannot shake. And so, he excuses himself from the conversation he’s been engaging in and steps out into the main hallway, Stark colored eyes searching for something. It takes him but a moment more to realize he wasn’t searching for something, but rather, someone. “Have you seen Lady Stark?” He asks the nearest lord, who’s come round the corner, only to shake his head before passing on. Jon purses his lips and moves towards the double doors that would lead out into the courtyard. “Lord Royce, have you seen my sister?” He questions the older man, who is standing in a semi circle of other lords, overseeing some carts of supplies being unloaded. 

“Ah, yes, she said she was to take a quick stroll around the grounds, last I saw of her she was headed west,” the man replies before he returns to his task at hand, falling back into the conversation Jon had just interrupted. 

That sense of dread rushes through him, colder, stronger, as his eyes glance in the direction Lord Royce had pointed. West… He swallows just as Rhaegal flies overhead, letting out a piercing shriek that has every man in the courtyard ducking for cover. But, the dragon does not stop, does not swoop lower, but rather continues on towards the field in which he and Drogon are often found feeding.

And then it clicks. 

Jon turns on his heel and begins to run. 

The dragon hovers before her, those gleaming eyes unwavering in their glare as he looms even closer. She’s holding her breath, daring not to move, cursing herself for what she’s gotten herself into. Truth was, she hadn’t thought for a moment the dragon would hurt her without his mother’s word, but now that she’s staring him in the face, she quite remembers that dragons are, well, dragons. Her heart is hammering hard within her chest and she glances left and then right, wondering for a split second if she might be able to run, but even that thought is laughable to her. No, the truth was, she’s gotten herself into quite a mess. 

But then, from overhead, she hears the shrieking of the other dragon. 

Rhaegal circles inward and touches down, not beside his brother as she assumed he would, but rather beside her, facing his brother. Those bronze colored eyes glare back at the red, as if daring the other dragon to make a move, any move at all. 

“Sansa!” She whips her head back at the sound of her name being shouted, no, bellowed, from the treeline. And it’s Jon there, frantic and wild as he races towards her, his arm coming around her and dragging her backwards just as Drogon lets out a belch of fire, pitched upwards towards the sky, but one which they both feel the heat from as they slip back into the trees, back to safety. “What were you thinking?” He’s asking at once, taking her by the shoulders, holding her at arm’s length, voice torn between concern and anger. 

“I was curious,” she says simply, breathlessly, sagging against him as his arms come around her. “I’m alright, Jon, I promise,” she says when she draws back, noting his pallor, his shaking hands. “I am sorry for worrying you like that,” she goes on, gently patting his cheek, tilting her head as she holds fast to his gaze. “I don’t quite know what came over me, but I had to see them up close, with my own two eyes.” Jon musters up a laugh because somehow, someway, this makes sense to hear. It was as she said, she was alright, but he must hold her close once more, drawing her in as closely as he can, breathing her in, relishing in the softness of her body against him. 

And that would how they’d stay, if only for a short while longer.

From where she stands, Arya watches with wide eyes.

She had heard the shrieking of the dragons and Lord Royce had mentioned Jon had run off in that same general direction, so off she’d followed, wondering what could have him rushing off in haste. Now, she understands, now she sees. Truth was, Arya supposes she isn’t all that surprised by what she sees- there had always been something different between the two of them, something that had not been there when they’d been children within the walls of Winterfell. But rather something new and beautiful that blossomed between two people who knew and understood one another in a way no one else ever really could. 

Arya smirks and then lets out a soft chuckle, then turns away, heading back towards Winterfell, leaving them there, locked in an embrace with only the trees to bear witness to whatever might come next.

[marriedtolike18fictionalmen]

Our Infinity of Stars (pt. 3)

Here's part three of one of the stories I’m working on! Hope u guys (the literal like three people who read the first two parts lol) are liking it so far!!

Again, dms are open for any thoughts, edits, critiques, etc. or if you want to be tagged in future additions that will come soon!

Love y'all sm!!

“It would be faster to swim.” Roxto complained from behind me. Turning, I raised a brow. 

“You don’t think we can run faster than you? Sure, you have a thick tail and arms that make you faster in the water, but can you keep up in a race?” I smirked as Ralak tried to stop us, but I shoved past him and started a line. “First one to the water wins.”

The Sullys and I were on one side of the trail that opens to the beach, the Metkayina group on the other. Tuk was positioned between us, counting down until the start, Rina and Tsireya at the water’s edge to see who won fair and square. 

“3… 2… 1… GO!” Tuk’s voice cried as we bounded off. In seconds, the lanky limbs each of us from the forest possessed propelled us forwards, Neteyam and Ateyo in the lead with me right on their heels, Lo’ak and Kiri head to head a step behind me, and all the metkayina trailing us, widened eyed as we darted off into the waves.

As we were a few meters away from the water, I put on a burst of speed and shot past the twins, grinning at their gasps and heavier footfalls on my tail. I gave one last leap pushing me past Rina and Tsireya, just barely before the twins.

By the time the Metkayinas caught up, I was already taunting the Sullys about my speed. “This man has not the size or the endurance, nor the genetics to win. It's physically impossible for this little man to win. If only I weren’t so much better than you, then maybe you’d have a chance.”

At Neteyam’s protests I laughed. “Oh, it’s ok. I know it must be very hard for you to clean my dust off, I’m sure somebody will clean it off for you. Maybe someone from your fanclub back home.” I smirked at Neteyam’s dumbfounded expression, “Give it up, old man. You can't fight evolution. I was built for speed.”

“I’m only a month older than you! Did you really have to quote ‘Rocky IV’ to me?”

“Aw, the first thing you say and it’s just proving how superior I am. I was a month younger than you when I completed my iknimaya. Guess I’ve always been leaving you in my du-” I gasped as Neteyam threw me over his shoulder, wading into the deeper water. “Let me down you evil boy! Don’t you dare even think about throwing me in!” I protested, lightly hitting his back in a futile effort to get him to let me down. 

He swung my body around as if I were a mere ragdoll,“I mean, if you really want me to let go.” He dropped his arms from under me and I was plunged into the water. When I resurfaced, he had his head thrown back in laughter.

I swung a leg around and knocked his feet out from under him. Now it was my turn to laugh as he surfaced, a cloud of sand getting kicked up as we started to splash each other. The rest of the group ran in, joining in our little battle until it was a full-on war. 

“This is not what we are supposed to be doing! Get out of the water now, I don’t have time to mess around like this.” The infuriating voice of Ralak rang out from the shoreline, and with a final splash I stood up and trudged up to shore. 

Ralak roughly grabbed my arm and dragged me out of earshot from the group. I shot a look backwards to tell them I was fine as I wrenched my arm from his grip. “I can walk perfectly fine, thank you. Don’t act like some barbarian.”

“I’m the barbarian? Please, with the way you act around those people, I’m practically generations ahead of you. At least I act like an adult.”

“Those people are the first family I ever had. They raised me and my siblings after our mother left. They comforted me after my father died. I wasn't even going to come here, but they told me to go, to be with my blood family. You have had a stick up your ass since the moment they got here, nobody made you agree to help. Ninat and the rest of the girls other than Tsireya backed out. A few of the guys too.”

“So I should just leave? Is that what you want?” Ralak snarled, leaning down in my face.

I pinned my ears further and hissed back at him, “I would prefer it that way. Come back if you ever grow up and learn to live with the fact that I don't want you, and I never will.”

Panting, we stood there for a second as my words sunk in. I turned away, leaving him standing there with my anger as I went back to the group.

“Will Ralak be joining us?” ‘Rina carefully asked.

“Not in the foreseeable future.” I replied evenly, not letting my residual anger at his childish behavior further affect me.

“Okay. Let’s see how good you guys are at holding your breaths.” ‘Rina turned to the group as Tsireya demonstrated, then everyone paired off to work off of Tsireya’s tips.

I caught Neteyam’s eye and gestured a few meters away from the rest of the group, where the shade of the trees spilled into the shallow water.

After we had been practicing for some time, Neteyam had caught on quickly, we were sharing some fruits from the nearby trees in the shade, our legs dipping into the water.

“Is everything okay? That conversation looked tense.” Neteyam asked quietly as we ate, practically the first words he’d said to me since my argument with Ralak.

“Yes, Ralak’s just being unreasonably irritable.” At Neteyam’s raised brow, I sighed before continuing to explain. “I turned down his courting offer a few weeks ago. He seems to think it was personal, just to make him angry or that I was playing hard to get. It wasn’t anything like that, for the record, but he had been trying to flirt and get me to rethink before you guys arrived, and now just has a stick up his ass.”

Neteyam chuckled, dipping his head as a silence fell over us. He looked up at me, almost whispering, “I never apologized for the things I said to you before you left.”

Shaking my head I grabbed his arm. “There is nothing to apologize for. Truly. Both of us were upset and hurtful things. I didn’t mean all of it, and I don’t hold anything you said against you. It’s in the past, and we’re past it now.”

Nodding his agreement, Neteyam changed the subject. “I didn’t expect it to be so beautiful here. It’s so different from the forest, but peaceful and beautiful all the same.”

I took a breath to respond, but Tuk came bounding over, pulling Neteyam away to show him some shell or stone she had gathered. I opted to stay against the tree, stretching my legs out in front of me as I was plunged in that last conversation we had shared before I left.

Neteyam’s footsteps stormed into my hut. “You aren’t staying. I won’t allow it.” He snapped from the entrance of my hut.

I whipped around, narrowing my eyes at him, “Oh, then I guess I have to stay. If the great Neteyam, golden boy of the Omatikaya commands it, who am I to disobey?”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped.

I calmed my voice, straightening I said, “I am not going.”

“She is your blood, your family.”

“She’s not my family.” My ears pinned to my head.

“Then who is?”

“My siblings, your parents, Kiri, Lo’ak, Tuk, Ateyo. You.”

“We are not related to you.”

“So now it’s the Sullys versus my siblings and I? Family does not have to be by blood. ‘The blood of the covenant runs thicker than the water of the womb.’ That’s what you told me, isn’t it? That day when we ran off after our iknimaya.”

“We aren’t talking about this. I don’t want to talk about family.”

I raised my voice, “How can we not talk about family when family’s all that we’ve got?” I snarled out. I took a breath, realizing my voice had shifted into Eywa’s song. “Everything that I’ve gone through you’ve promised to be standing there by my side.”.

His voice turned cold, emotionless, at my outburst. “I don’t want you here anymore.” without another word he turned and strode out. I stopped unpacking my things, throwing everything back into the basket.

“Fine then! Be like that, see if I care. I won’t stop you.” I shouted at his retreating form. He didn’t turn. A single tear opened the floodgates as it was followed by many more until they had carved rivers into the soft skin of my cheeks. “You broke your promise. What happened to ‘I’ll always be here,’ where did that go?” I said aloud as if he could hear it. “How can you leave me?”

I wiped my tears, bringing my belongings to strap to Syura’s large back, saying my goodbyes to the Sully family, chancing a glance around before settling on Neytiri’s downturned mouth as she shook her head in a silent apology.

I turned and mounted Syura, taking off after my brother to let ‘Rina and Ateyo say their final goodbyes.

I reminisced on the memories before rising to my feet with a small sigh.

I joined Rina where she watched the twins and Tuk running around in the water.

“Hey, princess! Get over here!”

Rolling my eyes, I stood, disregarding the butterflies his old nickname shook from me, “Why, golden boy? So you can dunk me in the water again?”

“Princess?” Tsireya asked from her spot a few feet away, hands splayed across a very flustered Lo’ak’s chest, clearly hiding behind a thin disguise of trying to teach him proper breathing techniques while trying to crop a feel.

“In my father’s native tongue, my nickname ‘Rani’ means queen.” I motioned my chin to where Neteyam was standing, “Goldie over there started calling me princess when he found that out. He claimed that-”

“That you hadn’t passed your iknimaya yet, so you technically weren’t a queen yet. Plus, you’d have to marry a king.” He winked at me from where he had run over out of the water. “You tell that story to everyone.”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Maybe because it’s so sweet and you wooed me with it. You also offered yourself up as tribute for a king for me to marry if I remember correctly.” I placed a hand on his broad chest. “I almost agreed too.”

Neteyam was practically drooling as I smirked from under my half-closed eyelids, leaning inches away from him and letting the long strings of my seashell-studded top brush over his skin. “Don’t get too flustered,” I patted his cheek as I strolled past him towards where Tuk had found more shells. At this rate she’d have enough for a new top. “You wouldn’t want the women of the Metkayina clan to know how to get past your guard, Golden Boy.” I shouted over my shoulder.

“You and your emerald eyes, princess. You have got to stop doing that.” Neteyam purred as he caught up to me. 

I splashed some water at him, “C’mon. I’ll teach you how to swim better.”

“I know how to swim!” He replied, handing over his heart. “And it wounds me that you imply I don’t.”

“Oh no! Do you want me to kiss it better?”

“I wouldn’t mind it, no.” he grabbed my waist and pulled me flush against him.

“Oh, stop it. You’re the worst.”

“Am I really?”

“Yes. I hate you.”

“Ah, but you haven't pushed me away yet.” I shoved against his chest. “Looks like someone is going soft on me.”

“Am not!” I used our argument that we had playfully used since we were children.

Neteyam grinned, remembering our old joke. “Are too!”

“At least I know how to swim!” I shot back, pushing Neteyam into the water.

He twisted and grabbed me as he fell, pulling me along with him. We both surfaced, laughing.

 “Mess with the bull and you get the horns, darling.” He breathed in my ear.

I laughed as I pushed him away, “Yeah, whatever. Now are we going swimming or not?”

He smirked down at me, “Lead the way, princess.”

I made sure to splash him a little more than necessary as I dove off the sandbar.

As we swam in the reef, I kept a close eye on him, surfacing less often than I thought I would’ve needed to. After I voiced this thought to Neteyam as we were floating on the surface, a slow grin spread across his face. “So I am a good swimmer then?”

I tilted my head, “I didn’t quite say that.”

“It’s ok, I’ll take the compliment.”

A Cheshire grin overtook my features, “How about a bet?”

A matching smile appeared on Neteyam’s features, “What kind of a bet?”

“If you can beat me back to the beach, I’ll admit you’re a halfway decent swimmer,” I held up a hand at the beginning of his protest, “To the entire clan.”

He mulled it over. “You can only use your arms. No kicking.” He held out a hand.

“Good that you still remember to never agree to a deal with me the way I lay it out.” I commented, grasping his larger hand in mine in a gesture Jakesuli had taught us. A handshake.

An excited grin dancing across his lips, Neteyam counted down. I rolled my shoulders as I prepared to swim as fast as I possibly could. I lowered into the water, and, my ankles glued together, I blasted forward with the first few strokes pulling me ahead.

I heard Neteyam splashing loudly on my heels, yet I slowed to save my energy for the last stretch. On the beach I heard as the group noticed our race, and started cheering, they must be placing bets. I mulled as I continued on my mad dash towards shore.

I felt as Neteyam’s splashes splattered across my back, he was catching up now. I glanced up towards shore, and realized we were maybe 50 feet away. Smirking, I put my everything into getting back, and I heard Neteyam do the same. We were almost neck and neck, and I had to squeeze my legs together to keep from kicking, arms burning at the strain of pulling the water out of my way to move forward.

Tsireya and Aonung had made a makeshift finish line, and with a final push, I crossed it a moment before Neteyam.

Cheers erupted, and Neteyam and I both were panting, huge grins dancing across our lips. The group surrounded me, grilling me for details on the race, on the bet they knew we must have made. I was suddenly hoisted into the air on top of broad shoulders.

“Do I at least get credit for giving you a run for your money?” Neteyam tilted his head back to look at me. 

I made a big deal about contemplating his question,tapping a finger on my chin. “Sure, why not. ‘Gave me a run for my money in a race’ is good enough, I guess.”

Rolling his eyes, Neteyam dropped me into the waist-deep surf, and everyone, including myself, were rolling with laughter as I came back up. 

Clutching a stitch in her side, Tsireya sputtered out, “okay, we should actually train now.”

Agreeing, everyone dove into the waves to test out their new skills and get some pointers on their swimming forms.

I swam next to Tuk, helping her gain new skills in the water. “Here, you want to have your hands like this,” I demonstrated, helping mold her hands into the correct position. “And pull the water out of your way. THen use your legs to help push you forwards.”

Her brow furrowed in concentration, Tuk followed my instructions, grinning up at me as I praised her.

[reidsnose]

happy campers

overview: the bau goes on a team building camping trip but reader and spencer spend most of their time together

genre: fluff

a/n: ive been kicking myself for not posting in forever but i think this one is pretty cute! please lmk what yall think :)

masterlist

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the stuffy, eight person suv finally rolled to a stop, the overgrown children that call themselves the bau tumbling out as quickly and gracelessly as possible. Morgan and Reid nearing the end of a 2 and a half minute long slap fight that you happened to be caught directly in the middle of. you looked at jj, pleading to make them stop with her mom powers.

"boys behave or ill ground you both," she sighed, going to help out with taking things out of the trunk.

they immediately stopped, muttering under their breath that the other one started it. but before they could start again, Spencer caught a glance at you. you were taking a deep breath, smiling contently, very clearly happy to get some fresh, forest air. despite being in direct sunlight, your smile was far brighter than anything he'd seen in his whole life.

before he knew it he was being snapped out of his daze and asked to help set up the tents. he was really hoping to have a chance to share a tent with you, like you sometimes had done on cases when hotel rooms were scarce. but he knew that almost everyone wanted a spot in your tent because you're that much fun to be around. Penelope would win, obviously, and he would be paired up with morgan again.

he let out a sigh as he finished up pitching one of the tents, pulling the corner and nailing it into the ground. as he did so, something caught his eye: a pink, round, fat little worm crawled out of the dirt.

his attention was now fully on the worm, ecstatic to see it because he had been reading up on worms for a while. he called morgan and hotch over since they were the closest to him, rambling excitedly all hes learned about them so far. he looked up and could see the disinterest behind their polite smiles. his own smile faltered for a second, until he saw you finishing up pitching a tent.

"im gonna go show y/n. shes gonna love this!" spencer giggled, already walking towards you.

"hey kid i dont know if she-" morgan began.

"reid she might not-" hotch started as well.

but he had already reached you, sticking out his hand and revealing the worm. hotch and morgan looked at each other worriedly, concerned that the tiniest rejection from you, even about something as small as a worm, would tear his heart to pieces.

their faces changed from worry to confusion as they watched a wide grin crack on your face.

"oh! a worm!" you exclaimed gleefully.

they observed as you put your hand out and Spencer dropped the worm in your hand. you watched it wriggle around and would occasionally look up and nod along with his rambling, asking questions and listening intently. hotch and morgan were speechless, knowing full well if they offered a girl they liked a worm, she would not have the same reaction.

you and Spencer started walking back over to the tent, where hotch and morgan tried their best to seem busy. you two were laughing, something about putting the worm back where he found it so it gets home safely. if there was ever any doubt that you and Spencer would be the perfect couple, its completely disintegrated now.

you and Spencer were typically joined at the hip, but after the worm encounter, you two were especially inseparable.

the girls went down by the lake to tan while you and Spencer tried to build a hut out of random sticks and logs you found around the forest. and while the guys were fishing on that same lake, Spencer and you were rock skipping, and he was explaining to you the physics behind it. and you were both scaring away any potential fish for rossi, hotch, and morgan to catch. so you two were banished back into the forest for the time being. when the rest of the team came back, you and him were up in a tree, eating some of the snacks they'd packed, talking and laughing and subconsciously leaning into one another. you didn't need to be a profiler to see the signs. you two were head over heels already, even if you guys didn't know it yet.

after a bonfire full of roasted marshmallows and scary stories, laughs and giggles. it was a wonderful, but tiring night and before you knew it you were getting ready for bed, sharing highlights of the day back and fourth with Penelope.

"i'm picking up on a bit of a pattern," she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

you wracked your brain, "what pattern?"

"all of your highlights included a certain adorkable genius."

"what? no we just...he's my best friend so we-cause its fun and i just-" you stammered, feeling your face heat up with every passing second.

"relax my love, i was just teasing," she chuckled, turning over to go to sleep.

"yeah i know. goodnight pen."

"goodnight lovely," she sighed, "but give some thought to lover boy."

you chuckled lightly before whispering to yourself, "trust me i have."

you woke up and checked the time, it was 4:47am but you just could not fall asleep. you crawled out of the tent, grabbing your blanket when you felt the cool morning air rush at you. you didn't want to wake anyone, so you made your way over to the little hill that the suv was parked on, stealing the keys from hotch's bag and crossing to the other side that faced east. the sun would be rising soon, it would be nice to watch; you draped your blanket across your shoulders. you heard footsteps coming from behind you, your blood running cold, immediately assuming the worst.

you turned around and were met with Spencer's sleepy smile. his hair stuck up in all directions and he looked perfectly adorable. you had to resist your urge to give in and kiss him right then and there.

"you scared me!" you whispered, trying to stifle a smile.

"im sorry," he giggled, "why are you up?"

"im not sure i just couldnt fall back asleep. why are you up?" you echoed.

"morgan keeps farting."

you and him let out hearty laughs, quickly covering your mouths as to not wake up the rest of the team.

you faced the car for a second, legs growing tired from standing.

"look how pretty the fogged up windows look," you observed, facing back and fourth between the colorful sky and the muggy version reflecting on the suv. you pressed your hand against the window, leaving a print, "so cold!" you chuckled.

spencer put his hand next your handprint, quickly recoiling, "you werent lying," he laughed, shivering a little.

you looked at the two handprints, his comically larger than yours and you couldnt help but smile to yourself.

"do you want some blanket?" you asked, opening your arms.

"i think im too tall," he frowned, "maybe if i crouch?"

"how about," you dangled the keys infront of your face before opening the trunk of the suv, "front row seats to the sunrise and some blanket."

"that sounds perfect," he smiled, begging his body not to redden his cheeks.

you two crawled into the trunk, draping the blanket across both of your shoulders, being pulled together by the small piece of fabric. you two were completely cuddled together, getting maximum warmth from the blanket and each other's body heat. a comfortable silence floated between you, faint bird songs and the others breathing filling it with peace. you felt your eyelids droop, despite the breathtaking rebirth of the sun happing in front of you. spencer was just so comfortable.

he felt the same way, his head falling to rest on top of yours as sleep pulled at his eyes. he yawned lightly, pulling you closer and breathing you in. you smiled. perfectly content.

about an hour later, hotch woke up, searching frantically for his keys. he ran up to check if the suv was still there, only to be met with your sleeping figures in the open trunk, wrapped up tightly in a blanket, smiles on both of your faces despite being asleep. hotch was good at predicting things, he saw scenarios play out fully before they truly began.

he snapped a picture, knowing it would be put to good use in a few years, he smelled a wedding.

spencer and you spent the drive home smiling like a couple of idiots, grins growing wider each time the sun hit the window just right, revealing your handprints.

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc

[americxn]

heeeyyy ive been thinking abt colin a lot and wondered like how it would be to have make up sex with him? After they had a huge fight then they have angry sex and then (still rough and hot) make up sex in the morning?

Im not sure if theres a difference between angry or make up sex but yeah

Hot Tempered (Colin Zabel x fem!Reader)

wordcount: 5.1k warnings: NSFW, penetration, giving and receiving oral, swearing, verbal arguing and a little bit of physical conflict

Yours nails scraped harshly on the surface of your kitchen table as you snatched up your phone, Colin’s face frozen in an irritated frown as you glanced back at him. His chair scuffed against the hard wood of the floor as you spun on your heel, heading for the door and the stairs beyond. “Y/n.” Colin’s voice was rough as he called after you, his long strides closing the distance between you as he reached out for your arm. “No, Colin.” You spat, whirling on him and wrenching your arm from his grasp. “I’m done talking about it, just fuck off.” His face fell, all of his agitation dropping from his features at the ferocity with which you cursed at him.  Your anger doused any guilt that should have swarmed you as the creases of annoyance on his face instantly smoothed over, his arm falling limp at his side. “Sleep down here.” You ordered firmly, turning once more and making your way to the stairs; your footfalls were heavier than intended. Shoving the door to your shared bedroom open with a shoulder, you flopped face first on the bed, gripping your pillow and smothering your face into it. Tears of hot frustration leaked from your eyes, dampening the fabric beneath your face as you clutched onto it, replaying the screaming match that had just occurred between you and your fiancé. It was undoubtedly the worst argument that the two of you had ever had.

From below, you heard the front door opening, closing harshly a second later.  You lay on the bed for several long minutes, the pillow clutched to your face staunching the flow of your tears. Only when your phone buzzed beside your head did you lift your face out of the confines of the pillow, the sudden light burning your teary eyes as you glanced at the screen as it lit up with Colin’s name. 

I won’t come to you until you’re ready to talk. Message me whenever that is.

You chucked the phone to the bottom of the bed with a soft sign, rolling onto your back and rubbing your hands over your face. Why did he insist on always being so patient? For whatever reason, his generous offering of space refuelled your anger, anger that was perhaps directed at yourself this time. Another hot tear squeezed its way out of your eye, rolling down the side of your face and disappearing into the hair at your ear. Swiping the wet trail away, you pushed yourself off the bed, storming for the bathroom and wrenching the faucet of the shower, causing scolding water to pour. You didn’t allow the water to cool, shucking off your clothes and stepping under the steaming torrents; it hit your skin in fiery relief, leeching some of the anger from your body and carrying it up into the space of the bathroom as steam, condensing and dripping in cool droplets off the mirrors and windows. You emerged from the shower half an hour later, the adrenaline of your argument having worn off entirely, a heaviness settling over your body in its place.  Your clothes remained in a heap in the centre of the bathroom floor, the fabric dampened slightly by the clouds of heat from the shower.  Sleep tugged at your eyes and you glanced at the alarm clock on your bedside table: 23:17. You obeyed the heaviness of your eyelids, allowing it to steer you towards the bed, flopping down onto its softness once more, the sheets cool against your warm skin, a comforting embrace in the place of Colins.

When Colin returned home, creeping warily up the stairs and softly pushing open the door to your shared room, it was almost two in the morning. He had gone to the office, taken his spare keys and lounged at his desk for hours that seemed to stretch away into eternity. His anger at you and your unforgivingness had long since softened, dripping away into pools of regret and willingness to compromise; he couldn’t even recall who had started the argument and what is was about.  But looking at you now, your naked body stretched out atop the covers, your torso expanding with each laboured breath you took, any thought of the argument slipped from his mind’s grasp.  Tugging off his coat, he hung it on the back of the door, reluctant to take his eyes off your sleeping frame for too long, your arms grappled around your pillow, your body softly curving across the bed. On tiptoe, he approached you, sitting gently on the bed beside your waist. Your eyes were closed lightly, your lashes fluttering slightly in sleep and your mouth cracked open in a soft part. He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his hand on the thigh of his jeans to ensure that his palm was somewhat warm before placing it tentatively on your waist. When you didn’t stir, your laboured breaths unfaltering, he began to move his hand down to your hip and up to your rib, trailing his fingertips along your sleep warmed skin tenderly. When you finally stirred, a small noise cracking out from the back of your nose and your legs shifting, you forced open one eye to see Colin surveying you carefully. You pulled open your other eye, blinking at him in an attempt to clear your sleep fogged vision; his lips tugged upwards in a small, surrendering smile. You let your eyes fall shut once more, sighing through your nose before shifting onto your back. Colin’s eyes dipped once, taking a thirsty scan of your exposed body before going back to your sleepy face, his smile widening when you held out your arms to him. He accepted, shuffling forwards before folding over you in an embrace, smiling into your bare chest as you folded your arms around his shoulders. You savoured the feeling of his hair brushing softly against your collarbone, sighing into his weight and allowing your eyes to drift shut once more. Colin’s head shifted, his cheek coming to rest on your chest; your skin was warm and soft beneath him. He allowed more of his weight to spread over you, your hips pressing into his as he flattened himself fully onto you. You cracked open one eye as he fell still once more, his breath coming out hot on your skin. You were glad he didn’t say anything, content to bask in his presence and indulge in his warm weight on top of you. The room fell into silence once more, sleep crawling back into your reach. You grasped for it, your arms slackening in their hold around Colin’s shoulders. The shift of his head against your skin pulled you away from the desired slumber once more, Colin turning to press a kiss to the space just above the valley of your breasts, his lips warm as they brushed against your skin. You stayed motionless, hoping that he would think you were asleep and let you be. But of course, he wouldn’t let that happen. He repeated the simple action of pressing a kiss to your skin, this time with more persistence. He lifted his head to regard you when you remained immobile, a small frown painting his forehead with creases. “Y/n?” You opened your eyes as he addressed you directly, glancing down at him. “Yes?” You muttered, your bad mood threatening to take over once more with his persistence. You just wanted to sleep. “Are we going to talk about it or...?” “Honestly, Colin. I would rather not.” You responded flatly, shutting him down. He pushed himself off you at you short reply, sitting back and running his fingers through his hair. “Well I want to talk about.” He pushed, his voice gaining a shade more strength. You surveyed him blankly before rolling onto your side, turning away from him and bringing your legs up to your chest, allowing your eyes to shut once more. “Y/n. Are you serious? I left the house for god knows how long; I’ve given you space. Talk to me.” “I don’t want to talk about it.” You uttered, voice muffled by the pillow you had buried your face in. “Well I do, goddamnit.” He spat, his prior agitation returning in hot waves as you continued to dismiss him. Led by his fresh anger, he reached out, taking ahold of your forearm and pulling harshly, forcing your body to twist in his direction.  Your eyes filled with furious surprise as he made you turn to him, recovering a second later and ripping your arm from his grasp. “Fuck this, Colin.” You spat, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed. Your feet brushed the floor as you made to push yourself to standing but Colin was too quick, a potent wave of utterly irritated disbelief filling him; wrapping his arms around your torso, Colin threw you back onto the bed, the sheets soft against your skin as you landed, Colin moving to kneel by your chest. Your glowered at him, pushing yourself onto your elbows. Colin’s face intercepted your path, appearing before you, an angry hue staining his cheeks. “Why are you being like this?” He demanded gruffly, your noses close to touch him. “I’ve told you that I don’t want to talk about it.” You ground back, standing your ground, refusing to balk from his mounting fury. “So what? We’re just going to pretend that it didn’t happen?” He challenged, his dark eyes boring into yours intensely. It wasn’t often that Colin presented this side of him to you, the side that had drawn so many confessions from suspects in his line of work. “Yes. Yes we are -” “No, we’re not.” He cut you off, his nose brushing yours slightly as he leaned in even closer, his upper lip curling into an enraged snarl. “You don’t get to just tell me to fuck off and then refuse to speak to me about it.”  You fell silent at his words, realisation of how unreasonable you were being washing over you. But you could’t back down now, your pride wouldn’t allow it. “I can do what I -” Colin’s lips crashed onto yours, your noses fully pressing against each other as he closed the small distance between your faces, stealing your next words as he cut you off once more. A small squeak of surprise emanated from the back of your throat as Colin, instead of pulling away to continue round two of the argument, titled his head to deepen the kiss, running his tongue along your lower lip once in warning before flooding eagerly into your mouth. The kiss was demanding and punishing, roving thoroughly around your mouth, your tongue struggling to keep up with his as he ran is across your own, making strokes across the roof of your mouth with the tip, drawing shudders from your naked body. He leaned in more, his hands finding your shoulders and running down your spine, meeting at the small of your back and lowering you fully to the bed. His hands trailed to your hips as he lifted a leg, shifting to straddle you. You were torn between shoving him off and gripping onto the front of his shirt to pull him closer. Settling on the latter, you reached for the soft fabric, your fingers grappling into the material and tugging, forcing his lips to form a tighter seal around your own. He groaned at your roughness, one of his hands moving slowly up from your hip, across the plane of your ribs and around the curve of your breast to your throat. He pressed his thumb into the hollow of your neck, sighing at the pulse he found fluttering there as you lifted up your hips slightly beneath him, silently screaming your mounting need at him. His thumb remained at the base of your throat as his tongue made another thorough sweep of your mouth, your hands releasing the front of his shirt, only to attach to the buttons holding it closed, fumbling with them in your feverish need to have his bare skin against yours.  Colin’s annoyance was only mounting with your drawn out kissing, your fingers stumbling in their hurry to free him of his shirt. He pulled away suddenly, your head lifting off the pillow of its accord, trying to follow his lips. Sitting back on your hips, Colin’s face was flushed with a rosy hue as he ripped apart the last of the buttons that you hadn’t been able to undo, both of your uneven breathing filling the room as you lay beneath him, reigning in your impatience and watching as he started on his pants. The clacking of his belt as it was pulled it undone drew a quiet groan of anticipation from the back of your throat, the subsequent sound of Colin’s zipper drowning out the weak noise. He fell back down onto you, one of his hands spearing into the pillow next to your head, the other reaching down to wrench his pants down his legs, taking his underwear with them. His hand fell onto your upper thigh, his eyes flicking to bore into yours as his made a tantalizing trail with his fingertips up the inside of your thigh to your aching core, allowing his nails to dig into your soft skin ever so slightly.  You let out an unsteady exhale as he drew a line straight through your awaiting cunt with a single finger, letting out a stunted groan of approval at the wetness he found there. You braced yourself for his engorged cock as you lay still beneath him, staring up at him as he made another exploratory sweep of his finger through your folds, your juices gleaming on his fingertip when he pulled his hand away. You opened your mouth, readying to scold him for suddenly taking so long when he sat back, providing you with the view of his swollen cock curving towards his stomach, its head purple and weeping creamy precum.  You arched your back slightly in a gesture of indignation, pushing your tits up in the hopes of luring him back down on top of him. Instead, much to your annoyance, he pushed himself to his knees. You could’ve drooled at the sight of his cock bouncing slightly with the movement, your hands coming to cup your own tits as your tongue made a sweep along your lower lip. Colin, who had taken a second to admire your body below his, the goosebumps smattered across your skin, your hair fanned out across the pillow beneath your head and your eyes, lustfully dark and still half-lidded with sleep, reached down, taking your waist in his hands and pulling you up, twisting your torso. He manipulated your body, forcing you face down on the bed. You immediately lifted your hips up, waving you ass in a beckoning gesture as Colin settled back over you, aligning himself with your entrance, his tip pushing in ever so slightly.  He paused here, causing you to hiss in impatient agitation, your arms lifting to gather the pillow beneath your head under your chin, arching your back in order to give him better access. Your face buried into the pillow with a deep, placated groan as he finally pushed himself all the way into you. Pulling out immediately, Colin sunk himself back into your cunt, taking his time to fill you thoroughly before setting about fucking you at a steady pace.   “Oh god.” You gasped when Colin began to thrust at an established pace, hard and deep, drawing out of you slowly, only to slam his fullness back into you. “Oh fuck.” The intensity with which he immediately started to fuck you made your fingers and toes tingle, your pussy being gloriously stretched open. Your moans were broken and breathless as Colin pounded furiously into you from behind, small sounds of pleasure squeezing their way through his tightly gritted teeth as he took you thoroughly. You groaned, your fingers gripping onto the pillow beneath you as he repeatedly slammed into you with such force that your body moved up the bed, the covers creasing around your body. His hands quickly looped under your thighs to pull them up, positioning you so that your ass was in the air but your chest and face remained pressed into the bed. Your the muscles in your back strained, aching slightly at the harsh angle that Colin positioned you into but the dim pain barely registered as he continued to pound into you from behind, pushing your body further and further into the mattress with each stroke. “Oh. Oh, Colin.” You groaned luxuriously, your name on his lips only fuelling him to go harder, faster, deeper. Just when you began to gasp, slightly overwhelmed by the pleasure that he was abundantly giving you, tears pricking at your eyes, Colin, with a shuddering breath, released your upper thighs and planted his hands onto the hot skin of your back, his fingertips digging into the planes of your back, his nails clawing into your skin. You squeaked his name as your pleasure began to mount, each one of his frenzied thrusts ripping a layer from the ball of ecstasy glowing in your stomach, the release hidden at the centre Colin’s goal as he pushed you further and further to climax. Your eyes rolled shut, tears of utter pleasure burning them as you bit down on the pillow, your pleasure building, building, building, Colin’s thrusts punctuated by his own rough groans of gratification as he, too, neared climax. Your body went rigid beneath Colin as your orgasm slammed into your body, sending waves of unforgiving pleasure rippling through your entire being. You almost screamed at the force of your climax, Colin muttering encouragements through gritted teeth with each forceful slam of his cock into your pussy. Your fingers fell away from the pillow you had been grasping, grappling with the sheets pooled around your writhing body instead as you gasped for air, Colin’s hand coming around to grab your chin, forcing your teeth to release their tight hold on the pillow and holding your face so that your neck was craned upwards towards the ceiling. You couldn’t seem to gain control of your eyes as they rolled back again and again, each of Colin’s thrust punctuating the aftershocks of your orgasm as you struggled to come down from your high. But he didn’t stop. And it was all you could do but keep gulping down breaths of air in time to his wild thrusting, his hands settling on your hips to pull you further onto his cock. Your fingers shook from where they clenched the bed sheets pooled around you, your legs trembling so violently that it was a miracle you didn’t collapse fully onto the bed. Your gasped moans turned into high-pitched whines, the sudden sloppiness of Colin’s thrusts as his hips snapped relentlessly into you signalling that he, too, was dangerously close to coming undone. He grunted your name and with one last punishing drive of his cock into you, he fell forwards onto your body, his teeth finding the side of your neck and clamping down as he spilled into you, rocking his hips in order to draw out his pleasure.  You were whimpering, his moans loud at your ear, muffled by the tender skin he held in his bite. He released his hold on your hot skin as the last of his seed shot into you, taking a shuddering inhale and moving his lips to press a kiss to your shoulder. You were still heaving down gasps of air when he pulled out, your head falling back onto the pillow beneath you as he released his hold on your chin, collapsing away from you and onto his side of the bed. Your back gave out, your ass bouncing slightly as it, too, fell onto the mattress. You turned onto your side, your mingled wetness coating your thighs as you moved, staring at Colin with hooded eyes. He offered you a tentative smile. You returned it, reaching out a hand and taking his, squeezing his fingers affectionately. “Fuck you.” You breathed at him, playful intent sparkling in your exhaust clouded eyes. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Colin offered in response, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth and brushing his lips across the back of your fist. “Sorry.” You added quietly, your blinks slow and heavy as you struggled to keep your eyes open, sleep beckoning you to fall into its embrace. “I’m sorry, too.” Colin agreed, reaching over to pull your body to his, peppering your face with kisses before untangling himself from your hold and standing, retrieving his shirt from the floor before pacing for the bathroom.

You were awoken the several hours later by the watery light of the morning filtering through the blinds of your bedroom, Colin’s body a warm presence behind you. His arms were twined around your abdomen with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his puffs of sleep infused breath settling onto your skin. You shifted slightly, bunching the covers up beneath your chin with a sigh of contentment and pushing your body further into Colin’s. He stirred at this, the steady rhythm of his breathing interrupted as your movement dragged him from his deep sleep. His arms tightened their looping hold around your abdomen and you turned, craning your neck to plant a kiss on the top of his head. Pulling his face from your neck, he offered you a sleepy smile, his eyes barely cracked open against the natural light infiltrating into the room. “Good morning.” You mumbled, your breath stale and voice weak from lack of use. “Morning.” He murmured back, his chin settling onto your shoulder as he gazed at you. You smiled sweetly at him, disrupting his hold on your waist to move onto your back, Colin drinking in the view of your side profile that you offered him. A dim ache glowed from between your thighs, an ache that you savoured, your eyes fluttering closed with a soft sigh as you recalled the ferocity with which he had fucked you. Your lower lip caught between your teeth at the memory, Colin’s curiosity peaked as he tracked the movement. “What are you thinking about?” He mused quietly. You turned your head to look at him, debating whether to lie or expose to him how much you enjoyed the rare appearance of his rough side the night before. “I’m thinking of you fucking me.” You shrugged, forcing a shade of feigned innocence into your tone. Colin drew in a breath, his eyes opening fully at your words. “I’ve been thinking about that too.” He admitted in agreement. You snapped your head to his, your neck stiff. “Really?” You asked. Colin nodded, the full weight of his chin settling into your shoulder as he relaxed fully into you. “Did I look pretty from behind?” You pressed quietly. Colin lifted his head to survey your full face. You settled your head further into the pillow, blinking easily up at him. “You looked very pretty from behind.” He confirmed, his morning voice rough and low, coming out almost like a purr. You reached up, running your fingertips softly down the side of his face. “I want to do it again.” You admitted, your eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips. His low chuckle of response sent sparks of arousal skittering through you, drawing some wetness to gather between your thighs. “Where are your manners?” He tutted playfully, moving swiftly to straddle you once more, the covers lifting around his shoulders as his hands found your face, cupping your cheeks in his sleep-warmed palms. “Please.” You added, allowing your gaze to become doe-eyed as you stared up at him. His lips curved into a small smile, his head cocking slightly to the side as he lowered his face to yours, catching your lips in a fleeting kiss. You melted into the kiss as his hands moved from your face, trailing lightly down your sides before settling on your hips. Disconnecting his mouth from yours, his moved his lips down to your chin, pressing several kisses from there to the hollow of your throat. You tipped your head back, exposing the column of your throat to him, gyrating your hips slightly under his weight as his allowed his lips to venture further, his kisses becoming hot and open-mouthed as his cut through the space between your breasts and to your bellybutton.  You shuddered beneath the soft brush of his warm lips, his tongue making occasional contact with your hot skin as he made a meandering track downwards, pausing every now and then to latch his teeth onto you, sucking your skin into his mouth. Your breathing became ragged as he reached your mons, kissing and nipping at the space just above your ever wetting cunt with maddening leisure. You reached down, allowing your fingers to tangle in his short hair and tugged persistently at the roots; the desired effect was achieved: Colin groaned, his breath hot on your skin, and detached his mouth from your mons, glancing up at you before repositioning his head and licking a long stripe up your aching centre. “Yes.” You groaned in blissful encouragement, the second stroke of Colin’s tongue causing wetness to pool, coaxing an aching sort of pleasure to spread across your cunt, your folds swelling in response to his ministrations. His hand settled onto your lower abdomen, holding your hips still as he buried his face into you, unleashing himself with ravenous intent on your clit. You mewled with pleasure, the sudden barrage of his tongue on your clit sending strong jolts of satisfaction through the entirety of your body. “Oh god.” You moaned, breathless as Colin continued to lap at your cunt, sucking and nipping at your clit. His fingertips nudged at your entrance and you attempted to push your hips up into them in encouragement, Colin’s low groan at your desperate efforts causing you to gasp and fall limp under him as the sound rumbled through your pussy. He pushed two fingers in, curling them instantly and expertly brushing the rough pads of his fingertips against the spot hidden within you that had your toes curling. You moaned his name, your pent up sexual need following last nights rough fucking of reluctantly proposed apology growing with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers. Colin’s cock twitched in response, his name falling from your lips fuelling him to push another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you at a steady pace whilst his tongue worked tirelessly on your clit, each stroke, circle and carefully calculated nudge of his tongue adding fuel to the glowing bundle of pleasure forming in your lower abdomen. You tugged on his roots in needy encouragement, his generous attentiveness of your pussy both not enough and too much.  “Yes, yes, yes. Colin.” A wave of heat rolled through you as your release neared, Colins fingers quickening their pace in your pussy as his tongue maintained its steady lapping at your wetness. “Colin,” his name was a drawn out moan falling from your lips, your head turning to the side, pressing your nose into the pillow beneath you. He hummed onto you, the pace of his fingers slowing as he held them deep inside of you, twitching and curling his fingertips. Your eyes rolled at the intense sensations that his change in technique sent sparking through you; the sudden tension that settled over your body only spurred Colin on, his fingers remaining buried deep within you as his tongue worked fervently, licking you closer and closer to your release.  Your head tipped back, pleasure pooling in your loins. “I’m gonna cum.” You announced on a breathless groan. At your words, Colin groaned his approval, his fingers once again quickening their pace, curling and twisting within you. He indulged in the string of continuous moans that fell from your lips, savouring the feeling of his tongue running across your clit as he finished you off, your body bowing entirely off the bed as your grip in his hair tightened, a wave of considerable pleasure slamming into you. His name was a drawn out moan on your lips as he licked you several more times, helping you through the orgasm that had your eyes rolling and your toes curling. Your thighs clenched deliciously around his head, Colin’s own moan of satisfaction vibrating through the electrified surface of your pussy. When your body collapsed back onto the mattress, the pupils of your eyes re-emerging with a gasp, Colin gripped onto your thighs, pulling his head from your heat and gazing upon your sated body, the scent of your arousal drifting up to meet him from between your thighs. You glanced down, the sight of his swollen lips coated with your cum causing a ball of fresh need to form in your lower abdomen. You blinked slowly down at him, a satiated smile spreading across your face. He grinned up at you, moving to cover your body with his once more, your hands falling onto the pillow at either side of your head as his lips met yours, the taste of your own musk coating his lips and tongue being passed onto your own. Pulling away, he placed a loving kiss on your nose, grinning down at you. “Do you forgive me now?”  Reaching up, your brushed the short strands of dark hair away from his forehead before answering. “I forgave you as soon as your cock entered me last night.” You mused softly, his eyes gleaming with arousal as they bore into your own. “Likewise.” He agreed, lowering his face to yours once more to lay a tentative kiss to your lips. Your hands found his shoulders, your lips curling up against once another as you pushed, Colin aiding you in flipping him onto his back and allowing you to straddle his torso. Permitting your fingertips to trail down the strong planes of his stomach, you leaned in, nipping at his earlobe before whispering, “I need to make sure that you fully forgive me.” Drawing away, Colin’s eyes were alight with aroused curiosity, pulling in a sharp breath when you moved further down his body, ensuring that his clothed erection scraped against your still throbbing heat as you positioned yourself on his thighs, pulling his cock free.  Colin gazed down at you, raising his arms to tuck them under his head, your hand closing around his shaft. You ran your thumb along his slit, gathering the bead of precum that had formed there before lowering your mouth to him.

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[softly-potter]

Iniquity | Part III

Summary: Draco's having a hard time coping with the world post-war, and he uses sex and alcohol to get by. It never occurred to him that Hermione might be coping in a similar fashion.

Pairing: Draco X Hermione

Word Count: 17,065

Warning: smut, language

A/N: Find the rest of the chapters here; Part I | Part II | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX | Part X | Part XI | Part XII | Part XIII | Part XIV

-

October 4th, 2000

Draco has a hard time focusing when he and Granger work the same shifts. Every time she bends over, he can only picture her bending over for him, face down, curls a-mess.

"Malfoy, can you put these on the top?"

He blinks, clearing his head. She's looking at him in annoyance, a cardboard box filled with textbooks in her hands that she's holding out to him. Her hair is tied in a bun, exposing her neck, the tan skin gleaming slightly from the rays that came through the window.

"Do it yourself," he retorts, but takes the box, and turns on his heel down the hall. He can hear her following him, her foot steps making light taps against the wood panels unlike his heavy ones.

He imagines she's incredibly light to lift.

He places the box on the top shelf, pushing it to the far back and turns back to find Granger is only two paces away, her hands on her hips, lips pressed in a thin line.

"How are you holding up, Malfoy?" she asks, and he's so surprised by the question that he grows silent. She rolls her eyes. "I mean with your parents cutting you off and all. You still...surviving?"

He pales, then notices the rolled up paper in her palm. He steps forward, reaching for it, but she moves her arm away, her face still in the hard appearance. In a fit of rage, he grasps her by the throat, the pads of his fingers pressing into her skin, and she yelps, eyes wide as he uses his other hand to snatch the paper from her grasp.

"Malfoy Estate Down to Two! Lucius Malfoy Removes His Only Son and Heir from His Will."

The headline screams at him and he can feel the blood pulsing in his ears, embarrassment flooding his entire body.

Granger claws at his hand, her fingers circling his wrist. "I take it you didn't know about the article," she says in a low voice, and he yanks his hand away from her, as if he's been burned. To his surprise, she does nothing, just stares at him with her large, sympathetic eyes, and it makes him wish he had squeezed that pretty throat of hers tighter.

"Shut up."

"I'm not trying to upset you, I just wanted to see--"

"See what, Granger?" he barks back, wiping his head back so he's not looking at her and those big do-eyes. "That I'm no longer Daddy's little rich boy? Well, I didn't need him then and I don't need him now. So do me a favor and go fuck yourself."

She doesn't budge. If anything, her expression turns into one of even more pity. He's so frustrated, so alone, and so concupiscent that he lunges for her, grasping her by the shoulders and yanks her to him. He presses his mouth against hers and she gasps, frozen momentarily, until she remembers herself and bites his lower lip. He hisses, yanking back and bringing a hand to his mouth as he looks at her. Her cheeks are warm, eyes glossy, both her hands covering her mouth. Draco looks at his fingertips and when he spots the crimson liquid, he smirks.

"Don't you ever do that again," she whispers, her voice hoarse, shaking her head slowly. "Don't ever touch me again unless I want it. Do you hear me? Never. Again."

She's racing down the hall before he can reply, standing stupidly with his hand against his mouth and the thought of her biting his lip repeating over and over. It's in the moment he decides that he will get her to want him once more.

-

October 15th, 2000

Granger is late to her shift for the first time in her life, as far as Draco knows. When she does show up, nearly forty-five minutes past her shift, she's pale, and her unruly hair is explosive upon her head. The bags under her eyes are visible and her normally plumped lips are chapped. She's carrying a handful of gift wrap, the tubes proving it cumbersome for her to move, and she hits one on the corner of the counter. It slips from her grasp and she stamps her foot on the floor as she groans in frustration.

"Long night, Granger?" he drawls, and she drops the remaining scrolls on the counter beside the register. Draco bends, grabbing the scrolls and holds it out to her, eyebrow arched.

"Longer than you, Malfoy."

He can feel himself twitch in his trousers.

They spend the rest of their shifts on opposites sides of the shop, Draco at the register and Hermione near the rear. Due to it being Sunday, the shop is relatively empty, and Draco begins to close up by flipping over the "Open" sign to the other side. He whips down the counter top, glancing around for a sight of her bushy hair, and he sighs before yelling, "Granger, let's go. I don't want to be here longer than necessary."

She doesn't respond and he groans in frustration, throwing the rag down before marching to the back. With the store now empty, it's eerily quiet, the sound of his footsteps echoing.

"Granger?" he calls out, glancing around but not spotting her. Shoving his hands in his pocket, he pokes his head down the isles of the bookstore, but to no avail.

He hears a slight creak.

Turning around, he looks around the space and a faint glow emits from beneath the door leading to the ladies restroom, the door slightly ajar.

With an agitated huff he stalks to the bathroom and is about to rapt his knuckles against the door and tell her to hurry up until he hears another noise.

Not a creak this time, but a murmur.

A moan.

He stops dead in his tracks, hand still raised to knock, when another breathy sigh echos from the walls right into his ears. Holding his breath, Draco shifts forward slightly, peaking through the opening in the door with one eye.

His breathing fails him.

Granger is sitting atop the porcelain sink, eyes shut and brows furrowed, her legs spread slightly and her right hand is in between them, moving slightly. Her mouth is in an 'o' shape and the sounds she's making sends the blood straight to his cock. Draco watches in awe as her left hand slowly moves over her breast, massaging the flesh and pinching the hardened nipple through the cotton of her shirt.

He knows he should look away, avert his eyes and leave her be, but he's fantasized about her making those exact sounds for so long, he almost can't bear it. His cock strains in his trousers and he stifles a groan as he watches her drag her hand up to her neck, the fingers playing delicately across her skin, and it takes all the self control he has to not barrel in and take her right there against the sink.

But no. He needs to make her want him.

She lets out a low groan, her legs stiffening, and he's glad she reached that point, that she could make herself reach that pinnacle area of pleasure. She opens her eyes and meets his.

They stare for a moment, her chest heaving and he holds his breath.

Slowly, a grin spreads across her face.

Draco grabs the handle of the knob and slams the door, turning on his heel and rushing out the bookstore. His dick is aching and he bites the inside of his cheek as he fumbles for his wand to Apparate to his apartment.

He comes in his hand to the thought of Granger pleasuring herself on the sink.