#maybe i went a little overboard with it... ah well :')

[sxcret-garden]

OMG MINGI NSFW ALPHABET PLS PLS PLS ON MY KNEES BEGGING SCREAMING CLAWING AT YOUR LEGS HUGGING YOUR TOES PLS OKS PLS

Hahahah omg ajksfölkasdfjka

I'll try to have it up within the next few days, but stuff got a bit delayed unexpectedly because... life. But yeah, it's almost done soooo 👀👀👀

[uzurakis]

can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)

TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.

n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.

you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.

megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

"you look… um, really pretty."

"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"

you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."

the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”

GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"

you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”

"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."

a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.

then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."

you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"

gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.

ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.

“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”

your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."

his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”

as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."

“you’re too sweet, yuu,”

"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”

NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.

his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.

"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.

he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.

you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."

nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"

you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.

GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”

“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.

he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”

you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."

@uzurakis

[daisymbin]

could i please request suggestive prompt 21 with mingyu? thank youu 💗💗

ah!!!! I enjoyed writing this one omg I may have went a little overboard. hope you enjoy it!

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // gyu's m.list

suggestive prompt #21: "do you want me to kiss it better?"

you had always been a little careless, never one to shy away from trying new things or pushing boundaries. this time, though, it had been a mistake. you had tripped while running back to your apartment, scraping your knee pretty badly on the sidewalk.

you cursed under your breath, inspecting the small but painful cut. it stung, and you hissed as you tried to clean it with a tissue. that's when mingyu walked into the room, looking far too relaxed for someone who hadn't been aware of the situation.

"hey, what happened?" he asked, concerned but still casual. you glanced up, meeting his dark eyes, and tried to wave it off, a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"just a little fall," you said, holding up the tissue as proof.

mingyu raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "you know, i think you might need a little more than a tissue for that."

before you could respond, he reached for the first aid kit you kept in the bathroom. when he returned, he knelt beside you, his fingers lightly brushing your knee as he gently cleaned the cut. his touch was soft but steady, and the warmth of his hand lingered even after he finished.

"better?" he asked, his voice low and warm.

you nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you looked down at him. "yeah, thanks."

mingyu’s eyes were focused on your knee for a moment, but then they flicked up to meet yours, an unmistakable glint of mischief in them. there was a playful energy in the air, something you couldn't quite ignore. he was never one to let a situation like this slide without teasing you just a little.

"do you want me to kiss it better?" he asked, the words dripping with just the right amount of suggestiveness. you froze for a split second, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. his lips quirked into a grin as he watched your reaction, clearly enjoying the way you seemed to hesitate.

your heart skipped a beat, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. mingyu’s grin only widened as he hovered a little closer, his face just inches from yours now. his eyes were locked on yours, but his expression was unreadable—teasing but not quite pushing.

"you don't have to," he added, voice softening, his teasing lightening into something a little warmer. "i just thought... well, it might make you feel better."

you swallowed, heart racing. there was something about mingyu that always had this effect on you. he was always so effortless, so comfortable in his own skin, and yet always knew how to make you feel a little off balance. in this moment, you weren’t sure if he was being genuine or playful—but you couldn’t deny the pull you felt.

without thinking, you reached out, gently tugging at his wrist, pulling him just a little closer. "maybe you could," you said softly, feeling a slight flush spread across your cheeks.

mingyu’s eyes flickered, and for a moment, there was a brief, tangible silence between you both. then, without missing a beat, he leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against your knee, his touch surprisingly tender despite the playful words.

"there," he said with a grin, pulling back. "all better."

you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the situation had become. but somehow, mingyu made it feel like the most natural thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out. mingyu’s grin only widened as he watched you squirm, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. but you weren’t going to let him win this time. after all, he always flirted and teased, and you were getting a little tired of being the one caught off guard.

taking a deep breath, you decided to play along, even if it made you nervous. "well, now that you've kissed my knee," you started, giving him a teasing look, "my heart feels unwell."

mingyu blinked, confusion flickering across his face before his lips curled into a knowing smile. "oh really?" he said, voice now more serious, but still with that hint of playful arrogance. "and why is that?"

"i think i have a case of the butterflies," you replied, your voice light, but you couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest. "so maybe you should kiss me better."

mingyu’s expression softened just a bit, his eyes darkening with a sincerity that made your heart race even more. he leaned in closer, not teasing now, but purposeful. "you want me to kiss you better?" he asked again, this time his voice low, his words almost a challenge.

you hesitated for only a second before nodding, your pulse quickening in anticipation. without wasting another moment, mingyu closed the distance between you two, pulling you in and pressing his lips against yours with a deep, urgent kiss. it was everything you’d been trying to avoid—intense, electrifying, like a storm that had finally come crashing down.

when he finally pulled away, you were left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. mingyu’s expression had shifted slightly, his grin replaced with something that bordered on vulnerable. he ran a hand through his hair, looking at you with a playful yet serious look in his eyes.

"now my heart feels unwell," he muttered, voice low and teasing once more. "guess you’ll have to kiss me better now."

you raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the butterflies still fluttering wildly in your stomach. "but if we keep going, we're only going to take turns being unwell, I can't keep kissing you forever,"

mingyu chuckled, his warm breath brushing against your lips. "you can't? i definitely can. it just makes the job a little easier if you take care of me sometimes too, just to, you know, make it fair?"

you weren't sure what came over you, or what gave you such big confidence to even have a conversation like this with him, but mingyu's smile was enough to make your resolve crack. "let's make it fair then," you answered, your hands reaching for the ends of his collar, pulling him in. this time, you leaned in with purpose, your lips capturing his in another kiss.

he didn’t pull away this time, his hands finding your waist, holding you close as the kiss deepened. there was no teasing now—just the undeniable chemistry between you two, raw and intense. when you finally pulled back, both of you were left breathless, hearts racing.

"not all aches go away so fast," mingyu murmured, his voice low, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gazed at you.

"what do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, still lost in the aftertaste of the kiss.

"i mean," he said, his tone suddenly more serious, "i think... you're gonna have to kiss me more and take care of me for a while. i'm not sure how long this ache in my chest will last. maybe a few years, maybe a lifetime, who knows?" his boyish grin was still there, but his eyes—those dark, soulful eyes��were locked onto yours, filled with something deeper now.

you felt your heart do a little flip. "you're serious, aren’t you?" you whispered, your voice a little shaky. mingyu's big smile drops into a small, scared and hesitant smile. he nodded, never breaking eye contact, his expression soft but filled with that same playful intensity. "mm," he says, "so serious."

the weight of his words hung in the air, a promise and a challenge all at once. you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, a mixture of awe and affection. your fingers lightly brushing his cheek. "guess i’ll just have to find a way to live with that ache of yours."

mingyu’s grin grew, that mischievous sparkle in his eyes returning. "guess we’ll both be living with a few aches for a while, then."

you leaned in once more, pressing your lips to his. this time, there was no rush. just the warmth of his lips on yours.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Moll

❥ Choi San x fem reader

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

➯a/n: i've been watching waaaaay too much 1920s drama sooooooo (i went way overboard, i feel liek i wrote a movie)

✃ moll; a mobsters girl, circa 1920s

✫彡wordcount: 6.2k

(✯◡✯)(>ᴗ•)genre: 1920s mafia au, plot heavy smut

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: mentions of drugs, violence, threatening with a gun(safety was on lol), kidnapping, forced marriage, forced affection, stockholm syndrome, pregnancy, murder(not descriptive at all), NSFW; virginity loss, unprotected (NO DO THAT🫵🏻), possessiveness to the max, breeding kink

not proof read

✩ index: dope; drugs, specifically cocaine or heroin. bent; drunk. bump you off; murder. bearcat; a feisty woman. vamp; an aggressive flirt. flat-tire; a bore. punch the bag; talk. dame, doll, bunny, water-proof; a (attractive) woman. holding a torch; having a crush. get in a lather/ get lathered up; get worked up or angry. skin; condom. get a wiggle on; leave quickly.

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Where's the money?"

    "That's all of it! Please, Mister-"

  The echoing slap across the room makes you cringe from your hiding place in the pantry. It's nothing new. Your family had been mixed up in all kinds of shenanigans and you had witnessed a great deal of them. But it always hurts when they come back to haunt you.

      You cup your hand over your mouth to muffle your scared breath, trying desperately put your mind in a better place. Anywhere but here.

   "I gave you more than enough time. Don't you think?"

   "Nobodies buying, please Mr. Choi! You have to understand, I tried. I went from corner to corner to corner," your older brother pleads.

    He isn't lying either. The drugs that the mafia had provided him to sell- well, they weren't selling. No body had the money. If they did, they only bought the smallest amount and resold it at a higher price.

    It wasn't his fault the country was in a depression.

     "It- I still have the dope stored away! Just in the back shed, you can have it back! May-maybe someone up North can have better lu-ah!"

     A dull thud.

     And another.

    And another.

     A crash. Your brothers body hitting the floor no doubt.

     "You gon' tell me how to peddle my own product now? I don't think so! Are you bent? Huh?" His voice gets louder with each insult hurled at your brother. "You skim a little of the top, is that it? I oughta bump you off!"

     You can't help the small gasp that exits your shaking lips, and you immediately recognize your mistake as it goes silent in the home. Only your brothers ragged breathing and the thrumming of your anxious heart reaching your ears.

    "Mr. Ch-"

   "Shut your kisser! Who's here with us?"

   "N-Nobody! No! No, no, wait-"

    Light floods the small room you've sought safety in, and that false sense of security shatters the second you see the man attached to the threatening voice.

      He's a cop.

    He's got a badge and a gun and authority. He's supposed to be someone safe. Instead, he's got knuckles blooded with your kin and a smirk on his stubbled face.

     His wide shoulders block the light, casting his silhouette over you like a storm cloud.

     You've cowered into the corner, skirt pulled over your trembling knees as you scoot further away. Wide eyes looking up at him, silently pleading.

     "Why you hidin', vamp?"

      "Please, Mr.Choi, she don't know from nothing!"

     You glance past the man -Mr.Choi- 's neat slacks, and see your brothers face messed with blood, dripping onto the floor from his nose. He's pulling himself up slowly, kneeling on the hardwood.

    "Get up," Mr.Choi nods his head at you, and you immediately follow his order, afraid to test his nerves further. "Help this goof up." You lower your head, slowly approaching the man who stays in the doorway. "Now, we ain't got all day!"

    You rush past him and kneel, wrapping your arms under his and pulling him up with a grimace, "c'mon, Bub, get up."

     The man watches you heave him up, leaning against the wall with his hand on his hip holster in case you decide to get brave. "Bub's done got you mixed up in something real risky, girl. What do you know?"

    "Don't know nothin', Mister. Mind my own." You feign some semblance of calm. You lower your brother onto a chair, and he nearly falls onto the dinner table before you catch his head. "You had to knock him on the head?"

     He chuckles, slowly stalking around the room, "don't get mouthy, Bearcat." He takes a seat at the head of the table, pointing to the chair opposite of him. "Sit."

     You lower his dizzy head to rest on the table before taking the seat he pointed to, folding your hands in your lap and lowering your head. "I never touched your dope, I don't mess with that."

    He slowly places his gun on the table, fingers lingering over it. He studies you- eyes never leaving. "How much of the beans has he spilled to you?"

     "I don't know what you mean-"

     "Oh, sure."

    You look up, and you regret floods your veins. He's sizing you up. Face completely void of emotion. Shoulders slack and relaxed like he isn't ready to shoot you at a moments notice. "Punch the bag, now. Before I shoot off your Bubs knee cap." He cocks his gun.

     "Okay! Okay, listen-" you gulp, looking back down, "all he's ever told me is that he gets some products and sells them, gives you the money and you give him a cut. That's it! That's all I know, really. Don't know where you get it or nothin'. I can keep my trap shut."

     "You don't go to the corners with him?"

      "Nev-"

     "If I show your face at the station, nobody gonna recognize you?"

    "No," you look up again, "everyone knows I'm a good girl, Officer."

     He lets out an amused chuckle, rubbing his brow. "You tugging my leg?"

     "No. I'm not a drug peddler. I'm a secretary. I volunteer at the soup kitchen. I babysit-"

     Your anxious babbling to get yourself out of your brothers trouble is interrupted when Mr.Choi, suddenly behind you, grips the back of your neck and pushes your head to the table. Your eyes meet your brothers drowsy ones, tears quickly filling up in both. "Please, she's tellin' the truth! I ain't even tell her I was selling till you called last minute! She's innocent!"

      "I don't like liars!" He shouts, making you jump under his harsh grip, "I asked you if we were alone the moment I walked in this dump! You're a little sneak, aye? How do I know you didn't hide her to gather intel on me? Get me fired and kicked out? Get yourself a little raise? How do I know she's even your sister? She could be a snake! Tell me the truth, now!"

     The cool metal of his gun touches your temple, and the sobs you've been holding back fall out of your lips loudly. "Bub, tell him!"

     "Tell me, Bub!" He mocks you, pressing the barrel deeper into the back of your head.

     "That's the truth! I sell your dope by myself and she doesn't know nothing about it! Please, she's all I have!" He's growing more and more frantic, head heavy as he lifts it to look Mr.Choi in the eyes, "I'll find a way! I'll go up North myself, I-I'll take a dimebox to Iafeild o-or," he himself is crying now, watching helplessly as he tugs you out of your chair. "Please, she's all I have!"

      He pushes you to the floor and watches you scramble, kicking your knees out from under you, albeit gently, it makes you fall face first. He lowers himself in a squat, watching you with a certain amusement you curl up on yourself. "Well why didn't you just say so!" He clips his gun back on his hip and smirks as you both let out a sigh of relief.

Mr.Choi doesn't leave just yet, however.

He straddles your back and flips you over, gripping your chin as it trembles. Pulls your face close to his and inspects you. Your tears wet his fingers. "Hmm, can't blame me for being suspicious. She's water-proof and you," he looks over at the table and chuckles, "well you're just a dog."

He stands and extends his hand for you, rolling his eyes as you ignore it. "Get up, Doll." He groans, pulling you to your feet, "go pack a bag."

"W-"

"She's not goin' with you," your brothers brief bravery is shut down the second the copper reaches for his gun again, "I- I mean why?"

"You," Mr.Choi points to him, "are gonna go to Iafeild and sell all of the shit I gave you like you should have done two months ago. And she," he wraps his arm around your shoulders with a cocky grin, "is gonna be your encouragement to get me my money. If you aren't back with all of it in... three weeks, say? Little sis' here is gonna take the big sleep." He ignores you as you cry harder, simply glaring at your brother. "Capiche?"

He nods frantically, looking away as you look to him with pleading eyes. There's nothing he can do. This is bigger than him. He's got messed up with the wrong crowds and now you have to pay the price as well.

     "Put a pep in your step, clock starts tonight."

❦

He opens the car door, watching silently as you peek your head out before your body follows.

You clutch your bag close to your chest, still sniffling and sobbing quietly. Your kitten heels click on the cement, messed curls blowing with the October winds.

"Follow me," he guides you by the small of your back, shockingly gentle with your shaking form. "Don't pull any tricks, Doll." He leads you up the stairs of the secluded farm house, opening up the screen door and ushering you in.

      "San, Finally!" A voice booms from inside the home, making you squeak. When you turn to go back out the door, you collide with Mr.Choi, who you gather must be San, 's chest. "Was starting to think- oh! Who's the dame?"

    "This," he turns you by your shoulders and tilts your head up to face the man who's descending the stairs, "is Mr. (L/n)'s sister. She's staying for a bit while her brother sorts out some business upstate." You can almost feel his smirk in the way he speaks.

      The other man, who's finally come face to face with you, seems a great deal less threatening than San.

"Tsk," he rolls his eyes at San, "sure thing, fella. You just went and found yourself a Moll."

"A Moll? Sure, she's cute but she seems a bit flat-tire, no? Not exactly the type of woman I go for."

"She's exactly the type you go for, you're trying to get her in the bag! Lost bunny is your type."

"Oh, take a hike, Hwa!"

You go back and forth looking at them in confusion as they bicker, hugging your bag to your chest tightly. You don't know what a 'Moll' is but you do know you don't want to be Mr. Chois. You simply tune them out and stare at the floor blanky, tears still flowing.

        "If you're not holding a torch, why didn't you kill him like we planned?"

    "Well-" His words die on his tongue as he looks over at you. You do look like a lost bunny. Making yourself small between them and letting your tears flow as a defense mechanism. He won't admit it, especially aloud. But you are exactly the woman he's been looking for. "Oh, hell," he pulls a blue handkerchief from his pocket and shoves it into your hand, "stop crying so much. Not gonna hurt you."

      Very hard to believe after his threats, but you try your hardest to stop the onslaught of warm tears. You wipe your face with the fabric and sniffle quietly, coming back to your own body as Seonghwa extends his hand slowly.

      "I'm Seonghwa, 'can call me Hwa if you like. I'll be lookin' after you when San here is busy. Let's get along well."

     You shake his hand gently and croak out a simple, "(Y/n)."

❦

The rest of the day passed quickly, locked up in a bedroom while San and Hwa could still be heard downstairs, which only served to add to your anxieties. It felt as if at any second they would change their mind and come up to bump you off.

You busied yourself doing what San told you to before he locked the door behind him. 'Unpack and get cozy.' Though that latter wasn't as easy as hanging your few dresses in the oak closet and putting your hairbrush in the nightstand, awkwardly placing your products in the corner of the attached bathroom. Especially after you pieced things together.

There was an array of suits and slacks hanging in the closet. Shiny loafers on the floor. A clip of bullets in the nightstand. A roll of condoms. A stash of cash in a duffle bag on the hook behind the door. A pack of cigarettes and matches on the window sill. A bottle of cologne that smelled suspiciously like Mr. Chois car.

This was Sans room they had locked you in.

You had long took a seat on the windowsill and dangled your legs out of it, debating how badly it would hurt if you decided to fall and try to make a run for it. You came to the conclusion that it was useless. It took fourty minutes to get here from the city. The last home you passed being 20 of those away.

The lock on the door clinked loudly, and it opened slowly. You turned and looked over your shoulder, and it wasn't a surprise that San was the one you faced.

"Hungry, Doll?" He shuts the door with his foot as he carefully enters with a plate in hand. He doesn't seem alarmed by your hazardous seating choice, probably because he doesn't take you for a fool that will break their ankles trying to jump from the third story.

"No," you mutter, turning back around and facing the setting sun without another word or pleasantry his way.

"Don't let it get cold, I reheated it just for you."

"Too bad. Not hungry."

He comes behind you and rests his palms on either side of your hips, chest pressing to your back as he looks out at natures expanse. "Pretty, ain't it?"

When he doesn't get anything resembling a response, he tries again. "It's my own property. Worked in that barn everyday until I became a cop."

He's met with silence. "Plan to share it with my wife one day."

Nothing. "I know you think I'm a monster but I am just a man."

"A man who had a gun to my head..."

"A man who's just trying to survive a war and a pandemic. You'll get that one day. I don't mean no harm until harm comes for me."

A silence washes over you both for a moment.

"Will you shoot me if my brother doesn't sell all your dope?"

"No."

And again. His soft breath, your anxious ones.

"Then why am I here?"

It's his turn to be silent. He backs away from you and sits on the bed, watching you as you sit still like a statue. You watch the sun disappear like a motion picture of art. A certain peace overcoming you for the briefest moment.

"Because you will be that wife that I share with."

And peace shattered by Choi San once again.

You head snaps in his direction, falling back into the house from the windowsill with a thud. You both stare at one another. San stares with an unreadable expression. Yours of pure horror and confusion. "What?!"

"I'll drop business with your brother for good. Clear all his debt with the boys. Give him all of the cash he gets from this last... adventure. He'll be well off and so will you. I'll make a good, honest woman of you."

"Y-" Yours brain is officially thrown into a panic, an overdrive of emotions, and it all tumbles out before you can stop it. "You have to be off your rocker! You're insane! I already am a good, honest woman! Go chase yourself, I'm not marrying you- you- what? No! No!"

"You 'aven't got much choice in the matter, Doll. Don't get yourself in a lather."

"Don't get- oh, I am lathered up, Mr.Choi! I oughta smack some sense into you, demanding a girls hand in marriage like it's still 1890! It's nineteen-twen-"

He smacks the sense into you before you can to him.

"Oh God," you sob, holding your stinging cheek as tears build up in your waterline. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry," you lower your head. Thinking, surely, you just dug your own grave. "Please-"

"This is exactly why I chose you," he crouches in-front of your crumpled form and tilts your head up, "a dame who appears like a lost bunny but has the soul of a beast."

You simply stare up at him, deathly afraid to move or speak in fear of letting your anger and sadness slip again.

"Got somethin' to say?"

You gulp before nodding your head in his hold.

"Go on."

"I don't w-want to marry a mobster... I don't want to be involved with dirty money! A corrupt copper..."

He chuckles softly, rubbing his thumb over your untainted cheek. "You should be thanking me, Doll... That dirty money? Been putting a roof over your head for three years. Corrupt copper? Well, he even had the decency to have the safety on his gun while pointing it at your pretty head. Mobster? Willing to put a ring on your finger and give you a nice home."

The tears start free falling as your situation fully sinks in. There really is no way out. You'll end up in the ground if you don't let him put a ring on it.

"So, I'll say it again," he grips the back of your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, "you should be thankin' me."

"T-thank you."

"Attagirl," he lets go of you completely, letting you fall back to the floor, "now eat."

❦

He let you be that night, and you didn't see him the next morning either. It was Seonghwa who came to the door, and you didn't know if you should feel relieved or not.

"Hey, Miss," He spoke softly, staying just outside of the doorway. "I heard what happened... I'm sorry."

He seemed genuine enough. You sat down your hairbrush and turned on the small stool. Your eyes puffy and red from the lifetimes worth of crying you did last night.

"Uhm, so San wants us to go to town and pick out some fabrics for your weddin' gown. If you aren't up for it, I can pick them out myself."

"Will he be going with us?"

"No, just you and I."

You were sick and tired of smelling San every time you tried to take a deep breath, and that's how you ended up here.

It's less overwhelming than being in that farmhouse that seems to be your prison for now and for forever to come. But overwhelming nonetheless.

Hwa is talkative. But you don't mind. He treats you well. Like an equal. He doesn't talk down to you like many men do. And that, you very much appreciate.

He tells you of how he feels it's unfair you have no saying in your future, his heart is heavy with sadness that he cannot help you. And he tells that to your face. He will not help you. He is loyal to San. But that doesn't mean you can't be friends.

You seem to share life stories with one another the entire car ride there. And then he already feels like an old friend as he holds up fabrics to your skin to see which compliments you best. You, admittedly, aren't as into it as he is. As much as a bride should be. But then, how could you when you were picking things out for the day that would solidify your future with a mobster?

You both settle on one that, you will admit, made your heart flutter when you imagined yourself in. And then you're on your way, but Seonghwa stops the vehicle halfway through town.

"What are we doing?" You look out of the window and your heart stops in your chest as you see that he's parked infront of the police station. "No, Hwa! You promised I wouldn't have to see him."

"I'm sorry, Miss (Y/n)... he said he wanted to see what you picked afterwards. It will be quick."

You take a few deep breaths without San's cologne smothering you, then you swing the door open and follow after Hwa.

Sans broad shoulders aren't hard to pinpoint in the semi-packed station. "Ah, my beautiful fiancée!" He perks up immediately as he spots you and his friend.

What he does next absolutely floors you.

He cups both of your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. Right out in the open. Hot lips on yours.

You grip his wrists, face flushed with heat as he pulls away, bending down slightly to rest his forehead on yours. "Did you pick a pretty fabric for our special day?"

The look in his eyes seems almost innocent from far away. He's already got everyone in the room convinced that you're a willing participant of this relationship. But you, up close and personal, can see the glint of silent threats in his eyes- telling you to keep up the act or face the consequences.

"Uhm, uh-huh," you move slight to the side and look to Hwa, who's head is down slightly for a spilt second before he smiles at you and San and holds out the roll of fabric.

"Oh, Doll, what a good choice! No doubt you will look jaw-dropping," he runs his fingers over the fabric, imaging the pure beauty that you will be. "You'll make it extra good, right, Hwa? Only the best for my girl."

" 'Course, San. We're gonna work on some sketches when we get home." His smile is genuine, like he looks forward to it.

"Officer Choi! Hate to interrupt but we got a hold-em-up at the bank," another officer passes in a hurry, stopping briefly to congratulate you both.

"Ah," he clicks his tongue, rubbing his hands on your side gently, "wish me luck?"

"Good luck..." He looks like he's waiting for more. You gulp and force a smile, almost gagging on the words you conjure up, "good luck, Baby."

❦

    The days after that first one passed almost like groundhog day. You awoke with San nearly laid ontop of you. Bathed and made breakfast. Worked with Hwa on your gown until it was completed. Walked around the farm and conversed with the farm-hand. Cooked and had a semi-awkward dinner with the three of them. Talked and became closer with San, slowly becoming happier with your situation.

   And then all too suddenly...

It's two days short of three weeks since you've been 'brought home', as San likes to say. Which means one very big thing.

      You are to be married. 

   It's a small affair, but beautiful nonetheless.

    You can quickly tell that only one side of San's life is invited. There is not a badge to be seen as you peer out of the window, only gangster after gangster taking their seat.

    Hwa finishes buttoning up your gown and steps back, smiling at you like a proud family member. "Ready, Miss?"

     "Ready as I'll ever be."

      Hwa walks you down the aisle.

     And then it's a blur.

    How did your get back in your bedroom? Was the ceremony already over?

It seems to have happened in a flash.

You stand infront of the window again. All of the guests have either left or have taken up in one of the many guest rooms in the home. San no doubt offered them up so that he could have witness to what was about to happen.

Your wedding night. Oh, how special and magical a day.

San slides his hands up your back, landing on your tall collar and skillfully unbuttoning it. Slowly, almost teasingly. His words send a shiver down your spine, they set your hairs on edge: "you are so beautiful, my Dear... it took everything in me not to take you right there in the aisle. I've never wanted anyone, or anything, as badly as I want you."

     Your breath hitches in your throat as his soft lips come in contact with your now exposed neck. It not the first time he's left adoring kisses on your body. But somehow it feels different as husband and wife. "San..."

    "Yes, Doll?"

    "I... I'm a virgin."

   "I know, Doll. Tell me to stop and I shall, but... I want to make you feel good like only a husband can. I want to show you my love in physical form." His hands slide into the now open back of your dress, around to your breasts. "Only I can touch you. Only you can touch me. Do you understand that?"

    A breathless 'yes' trembles out of your lips as he cups your bosom. The little moan that follows has his hard member throbbing, so ready to finally claim you. He presses it to the round of your ass, and you have to hold back a gasp, simply letting your mouth gape as you look out at the dark night sky. But when his calloused finger tips roll over your hardened nipples, you can't bite back the curse of pleasure that bubbles in your throat.

"Oh, you poor bunny," he whispers in your ear, "you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." The warmth of him slowly dissipates, and the tell-tale sound of the stool in the room dragging on the floor makes you turn around. "Drop your gown, let me see my wife in her full glory."

Heat burns on your cheeks, of embarrassment or arousal you can't quite tell at the moment. He's shed his fanciest uniform jacket and is now working on his button up, his cock straining against his slacks.

"You ever seen a man's prick?" He smirks as he catches you staring. Your eyes don't leave his lap as you take off your white kitten heels. That is, until he calls you out.

"No," your eyes drop to the ground as you neatly arrange your shoes, "never..."

"Mine will be the first? Mm, first and only," he half hazardly tosses his shirt, leaving his chest bare. Scars and toned muscle on full display for you. "Catch up, Dollface."

You step out of your gown carefully, holding it to your chest to hide yourself. "What if I'm not... pretty enough?"

"Oh, my wife can't possibly disappoint. I've seen that silhouette while you shower." He tilts his head and smiles, a soft smile. "You'll be my first as well."

     You swear your eyes have bugged out of your head the way he chuckles at your expression. "Really?"

     He stands, gently unraveling your fingers tight grip on the white fabrics. "Really, and I don't want to wait any longer. I want it to be with you. It will be with you." You let him take the fabric, and he drapes it on the stool carefully without ever taking his eyes off of you.

    "W-what about the skins in our drawer?"

   "So I don't make a mess while I fuck myself thinking about all of the dirty things I want to do with my wife."

    "Oh-" You swear you're running a fever. You've never felt this way before- but then, you imagine you'll be feeling many firsts tonight.

     "Would you like to hear about them?" He grins, his signature shit-eating-grin, as he guides your hands to his belt. You fiddle with it with a small nod, slowly pulling it off of him as he speaks. "I've got you laid down on our bed, legs spread..." You unbutton his slacks. "Touching, exploring what's mine." His zipper is undone next. "I take my time, make you nice and wet." His bottoms are gone. "I hold your hands." His boxers go after them. "And then I fuck you on my cock." 

    And he did exactly that. That's how you got here.

     Hours of teasing later, his member is finally buried inside of you, stretching you like your fingers never could. He interlocks his fingers with yours as his hips withdrawn. Squeezes your hands tightly as he slowly sinks back in.

      "Oh God," you whisper, heels digging into the mattress as you arch beneath his built frame, "ah, Sannie."

    His hips stutter, mind overheating as the nickname reaches him. You feel... oh, you feel amazing. Like heaven on Earth. Your gummy, warm walls suck him in, so wet and inviting. He wants to bury himself in your cunt and never leave. "Fuck, Bunny, you feel fucking godly."

      Only a moan is his response, your head tossed to the side in embarrassment. "D-don't stop," you pant, squeezing his hands tighter as you gather the courage to- "please go faster." Oh, nevermind. Your mind has left and only your pussy's logic remains. And it's logic is- "Sannie, faster!"

   His thick, veiny shaft feels otherworldly as it drags against you. You need more. And he is happy to oblige. He quickens his pace, keeping his strokes languid and tender so as not to hurt you. But by God, he goes faster.

     "Ah! Ah, my God!" You cry into the night, uncaring as your pleasure echoes in the houses thin walls.

     Your noises, your facial expressions, your divine warmth around him. San feels that familiar coil tighten quickly, winding up. "Fuck, (Y/n), I'm gonna bust," he bites his lip, a loud moan vibrating his chest.

"C-close, I'm close, Sannie," you squeeze his fingers in yours, looking up beggingly, "please don't stop, ah- ah! Just like that! Nngh!" Your eyes roll back into your head, cunt clenching down on him like a vice, a gush of heat tells him you've just came around him, so he no longer holds back.

He hooks one of his legs around yours and pushes himself deeper than before, making you yell out in overstimulated ecstasy. And that primal yelp as he buries himself as deep as possible sends him over the edge, coil in his gut not only snapping- but burning to ash as he fills your womb with his release. "Fuck, fuck," he whines, rutting into you unable to move as your core clenches more than ever, refusing to let him go. "Mine," he growls out, leaning down and colliding his lips with yours passionately.

  

     Your body goes limp beneath him, your soft breaths fanning against his sweaty face as he pulls away from the kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and your jelly like arms wrap around his broad shoulders. "Mine, all fuckin' mine," he lowers his weight onto you slowly, and it makes his hard cock feel heavier than before. He ignores your whiny moans, resting his head on your chest. "My wife, filled with my seed. Mine, mine, mine," with each of his possessive proclamations comes a thrust of his hips. "Say it, say you're mine."

      "I'm yours," you whimper under his weight, blissed out beyond belief and in shock that -despite having filled you less than five minutes ago- he is already rock hard again and thrusting into you, slowly building his speed back up.

     "Louder," he demands, head pressed firmly to your chest and listening intently to your drumming heart beat.

    "I'm yours," you speak more confidently.

    "Louder," his pace has passed where you reached before, he's nearly drilling you with his cock.

    "Ah! Fuck!" You screech, nails digging into his skin, legs wrapping around his wildly thrusting hips instinctively.

    "Say it," his voice rumbles on your chest, sending vibrations through you as his thrust shake the bed, "fucking say it, tell everyone who you belong to."

     "I'm yours, San! Oh! San! Sannie! Baby!" Your brain has shut down, you're putty in his arms, babbling loudly. "Cumming!" You can't help but announce it to the farm, your pleasure has set you ablaze and everything is pointless besides San.

    He follows shortly after, his second release flooding your stretched walls and pushing his first out, making a mess of your sheets and pelvises.

     When he doesn't show any sign of slowing, you slap his shoulders repeatedly and let out a loud whine. He stills deep inside of you and pants into your chest, cock still throbbing inside of you.

    He's become insatiable.

     "Break, please," you slur, hands finding purchase in his disheveled hair. He melts into the drunken affection, eyes peering up at you with love and adoration... obsession in the comfort of your own home.

     He slowly pulls out of you, watching in awe as the pearly white of his love seeps out of you. He rubs your thighs in a soothing manner, taking a moment to catch his own breath.

     "D...do you feel good?" He looks up, almost like a lost puppy. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

      "God, yes," you smile at him dopily, propping yourself up on your elbows with a groan. He sits back, immediately locking his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. His scent blankets you, and you welcome it. Taking a deep breath.

     His member is messy with a mix of your juices, resting against your lower belly like it knows that's where it belongs. Showing you both how deep he reaches.

     The sight alone lights the fire in you again, now just as insatiable as he is.

     "I love you." The words that slip past your swollen lips shock the both of you, eyes meeting in an instant.

     The crickets outside chirp their song, stars and moon casting light through the window. A shooting star flies by.

    "I love you."

❦

    There's a knock at the door. Strange. Anyone who needs in can get in. You trot down the stairs and stop halfway as your eyes meet your brothers through the screen door. "Bub?" You nearly trip over your feet as you jump down the rest of the steps, slinging the door open and wrapping your arms around him tightly. It been long past those three weeks San have him. Almost a year past.

     "Bub! Bubby!" He spins you around in his arms, nearly falling off of the porch.

     "Oh, thank God! You're alive!" Both of you have wide smiles, blissfully unaware as San turns the corner in his farming overalls. "Let's get a wiggle on, before Mr.Choi knows I'm here." San stops in his tracks, eyes trained on you.

     "Oh... Bub."

    "Let's get, c'mon." He goes to drag you by your arm to the awaiting car.

    "Stop! I'm not going with you."

    A smirk grows on Sans as a frown grows on your brothers. "N-not going? Don't be silly!"

    "Let go of me," you slap his hand away and when your hand falls back to your side, that's when he sees it.

    Your belly. Swollen with child.

     "(Y/n)..."

      You wrap your hands around your stomach protectively as his concerned look turns to a glare. "D-did he rape you? Dear Lord," his hand flies to his mouth in shock.

      "What!? No, no, nothing of the sort. San and-"

     "Hurry, before he gets back."

      "Before who gets back?" San grins wide as he joins your side, wrapping his arm around you and purposefully showing off the ring on his finger. "Long time, no see... Bub."

      His face so that of a ghost, backing away until he hits Hwa, who forces him to kneel.

      "You really left your poor helpless sister for dead?" The words that San speaks knocks the reality back into you. He did leave you. You'd been so happy with your new life that you'd forgotten entirely about what lead up to it. "I doubt you've even got my cash, huh?"

     "Mister, please! Surely you've forgiven me?"

    "I don't hold grudges... my wife is a different story, however." He turns to you with an innocent smile. "Honey?"

"Sissy... Tell me you didn't."

"I did." You dead pan. "You left me!" You land a slap harshly across his cheek. "Bastard!"

"Alright, Miss, don't put too much stress on the baby-" Hwa tries to calm you, but you've already gone off the deep end after being reminded of your life before San.

"I hate you!! You left me all alone! You threw me to the wolves! Where were you?!"

"Sis, just- just come home, you aren't thinking straight."

The cicada chirp loudly, nearly drowning out your next words.

"This is home. This is all I have. This is all I want."

"Sis, what has he-" Tears are welling up in your brothers eyes. And it pisses you off.

"I hate you! I never want to see you again, I hate your coward guts!"

San squeezes your shoulder gently and it brings you back to reality. Your brother is shaking as all of the realizations come crashing down on him. Hwa knows what's about to happen, he and San have talked about it a million times. He takes the gun from his belt and hands it over.

"My Moll has spoken."

Bang.

❦

[tvhsleb3ww]

LOVE IS NOT OVER! - OIKAWA TOORU

yeah i used a bts song as the title bc i ran out of ideas 🥴

summary, your blind date is your ex boyfriend from high school!?

minor swearing, praise (cute, hot, sexy), depression, heartbreak, tooru being dumb

read part 2 here!

now, there were plenty of beautiful women in Tokyo. millions! but why oh why did the universe hate him so much to the point they sent you as his blind date.

that's right. you. his ex. his first love, his high school sweetheart, his best friend and the same girl who stole his heart and stomped on it until it broke into a million pieces. it was simply unbelievable.

you turned him into a depressed man after you broke up with him because you thought it was better to go seperate ways. okay, maybe it was for the better because now he's a superstar volleyball player and now you're doing whatever. and he's one hundred percent sure that you're succeeding in whatever the hell you're doing because holy fuck do you look like a goddess right now.

of course, dating his ex was not written on his workbook. he never would go back to his exes. that he can swear he'd never do but right now he's starting to contemplate whatever mindset he has going on. in full honesty, he's still bitter and upset at you for dumping him due to stupid reasons. it has been years since you last saw each other.

Third Year of High School

" you're not even giving me a chance here! "

his voice broke as tears welled up in his eyes. his hands holding onto yours as he intertwined his fingers with yours. his lips remain a frown as he looked at you. you sighed and remain your gaze on him.

" tooru, it's not that like that "

he clicked his tongue at your words. bullshit. that's all he thinks right now. he lets go of his grip on your hands as he looked at you with glassy eyes. he bites down his bottom lip to control himself from actually breaking down in front of you.

" so, you're gonna give up on us? "

his question remains unanswered as you stayed quiet. he sighed, looks like he got his answer. you sighed and crossed your arms. you couldn't bare to look at him right now in his vulnerable state. you feel like you just got shot by a million arrows from how bad you're hurting him.

" i just think it's better if we go on our seperate ways"

back to the present, he didn't expect you. first of all, he didn't even want to go on this stupid blind date in the first place but his awful yet amazing friends kept pestering him to do this. saying that "you're too obsessed with volleyball get a life", blah blah blah. he just rolled his eyes to their statement but he still went.

so, it wasn't his friends' fault for setting him up with his ex. or is it?

both of you sat in silence for a whole minute inside the busy yet quiet café. both of you had ordered your drinks and tooru swears that his matcha latte is almost finished from how often he kept sipping it.

he quickly clears his throat before finally saying something.

"long time no see"

okay that did not sound as badass as he thought it was gonna be. it kinda sounded corny. he took a second to cringe at himself before looking at you. god, he wanted to curse the heavens because how dare they make him hate this amazing woman!?

from head to toe you're perfect. tooru would fight anyone who says the opposite. you got so much prettier in the last couple of years too. your hair, your eyes, your lips, your face, your ass-

that was a little overboard, he thought. he's not supposed to be thinking this! you broke his heart and he hates you!

" yeah, you look great "

god, he wanted to melt on the spot. the same voice that haunted his dreams for years. still so sweet and so good to listen to. he looks great? woah! does that mean you're complimenting him? what is great? his physique? his personality? he had to bite his bottom lip to cover his smile and remain his scowl.

" pfft- i know "

you rolled your eyes at his words. ah, tooru always as smug as he can be. but he did in fact looked great, he looked healthy and more muscular. indeed, seperation was better for both of you. of course you knew about his growth in the volleyball world, he was the talk of the year. based on the scowl on his face, you're sure he's still being petty about what happened between the two of you.

" i see that your ego is still bigger than your ass "

he gasped at that statement. his eyes narrowed down at you as he crossed his toned arms. he's gotten tan too from the Argentina sun. it's a good look on him, not gonna lie.

" at least, i didn't leave people at their lowest points "

touché but it was a terrible comeback. tooru has always been horrible at comebacks. it did however managed to shaken things up a little bit. you clicked your tongue and rolled her eyes. same old petty tooru.

" i'm sorry, alright? that was a long time ago "

" you don't seem sorry "

" at least i'm apologizing "

" yeah but years after that- "

you groaned loudly making him snicker. he always enjoyed driving you crazy. to him, it was cute to see you all fired up and he just likes to piss people off in general. he leans back on his chair as his gaze remains on you.

" so quickly agitated, (y/n) "

he commented making you huff and roll your eyes.

" you're still as annoying as you'll ever be "

" annoyingly hot you mean "

" maybe because you came from hell "

his smug grin falters and drops at your comeback. he scowls and huffs at your now smug expression. this interaction was gonna be interesting. you just wiggled your eyebrows at him to piss him off even further.

ugh, he hates you. he hates how sassy and teasing you can get. he hates the fact that he finds it cute and sexy at the same time. why is it so sexy when you put him in his place!?

he clears his throat again after a minute of whole silence.

" you know, i hate you right "

you sighed softly and rolled your eyes for what seems about the nth time now.

" and it's completely my fault, i know "

he wanted to say yeah it is. you're to blame for the heartbreak pain he felt for years.

after he flew away to Argentina, he couldn't sleep at night wondering about you, he devoted himself fully to his career because he didn't want to think about you, he tried going out with other women but they all just weren't you.

but right now, it's as if he wanted to push that ego away and forget everything that has happened in the past couple years and just grab your face and kiss you with everything he's got.

and he's not leaving this date until he does exactly that.

[godhandler]

cult leader!geto suguru x secretary!reader

Geto snores into his pillow, his long hair spread princess-like over his broad back, having escaped from the little bun he made before bed last night. The heavy curtains are keeping his bedroom still cool and dark at 11 am. I guess that’s why I didn’t wake up on time, I’m pretty sure we missed the Ichinori meeting. You look over at your naked boss next to you, deep asleep. Well, I doubt he’ll get mad at me. 

He looks so… breathtaking. His back still carries the marks of your sharp nails, you smile as you run a soft finger down his spine. So perfect. Glowing skin. Hard muscles underneath. He’s not going to wake up anytime soon, you know that. He’s usually a heavy sleeper, but especially after having been wrung out like that last night – you’d done a good job, you grin at the memory. Maybe he’ll give me a raise. 

You try to piece together all your clothes, you do have to go reschedule his meetings after all. Pleated pants- got it, under the blanket that Geto’s hogging all to himself. Formal blouse- got it, near the door, ugh, is that a tear on the neckline? A shame, this one was expensive. Bra, bra, braaa- got it, what the fuck?? Ah. You remember Geto tore it off you, too impatient to wait a second more. He liked to do that, ripping your clothes off you. Yanking a handful of your hair too close to your scalp. Hickies on the soft of the thighs and belly that seemed a touch from bleeding. A harsh spank with his large hand that made your lamb eyes tear up. Pushing a thumb into your ass while fucking into you from behind. A little painful, a little rough. That is how Geto enjoyed you. 

You decide to give up looking for your panties (they're definitely not in a wearable condition anymore, after having been pulled down your wet heat by Geto's teeth and promptly stuffed into your mouth). For a second, you dare to wonder if you’ll get away with stealing one of Geto’s briefs from the clothing drawer, before deciding that’d be crossing a boundary. Regardless of how many times he’s cum down your throat, he’s still your boss, after all. He’s still the wonderful Geto-sama that you adore and respect, one who found your potential as a sorcerer, one who will rid the world of all curses. 

One who’s trying to pull a hair out of his mouth in his sleep. Adorable. One pant leg in and other pant leg out, you awkwardly hop over to him and take the hair out for him. Those eyelashes melt your heart. You cherish him as you wear your pants as silently as you can: he looks painted, he looks angelic, he looks overwhelmingly loved. 

You put on the ruined blouse anyway; you’ll just go home and change. The bra he can have, you leave it tucked under his pillow, a little gift for him to find later. Your nipples chafe slightly against the fabric of the blouse. They still feel raw sensitive. Geto always insists that lapping them with his tongue would heal any wounds that his lips or teeth have caused to your pretty, perky nipples, but that’s not true. You can feel right now that it’s not goddamn true. Your tits still have full marks of his bites stinging red on them. 

In fact, now that you’re paying more attention to yourself, your entire body feels sore. Your neck has a faintly purple outline of his large hand, and your voice seems to still be rough. Was it him choking you within an inch of your life till your head swam within clouds of ecstasy as he finally let you cum on his cock? Or was it the way he roughly pushed your head into his lap, his thick cock stretching out the insides of your throat? Oh, the image of him hissing as he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every deep groan and gasp. “A magician with that mouth,” he’d call you, as he petted your cheek before falling asleep. I’d do it every night just to hear him say it again. 

The places he’s grasped you to hold you against him, your sides, shoulders, thighs, ass, they all hurt. He went overboard last night. Did something happen yesterday? Hmm, December 7... nope, doesn't ring a bell. You pout as you find your phone, tablet, and a Plan B pill you take from his bedside drawer. Geto would rather not use condoms, but also doesn’t fully trust you to take your regular pills on time. So there you go. God’s punishment for creampies.

You suppose Geto has a thing for them. Not that he wants kids, just that he likes feeling you raw. Hearing you cry as you struggle to take him. Smiling as you plead that it’s too much. Pressing your ankles down to your ears as he sinks deeper into you. Moaning into your mouth as he ruts his pleasure into your warm walls, his cum drooling over your sticky thighs. Doing just as he likes, without restraint. 

You have to leave him now, it’s so sad. Rapunzel is still snoring deeply, turning over and letting the blanket fall from his X-scarred chest. You dig his phone out of the mess and leave it next to his ear, you’ll call him awake at 1 pm so that he’s ready for his daily evening address and other meetings. You quickly put your heels on and leave, but not before dropping a kiss on his nose. To keep him company throughout the day. It’s pointless and a bit too sentimental for Geto to appreciate, you believe. Besides, you’ll be right next to him all day anyway, won’t you?

a/n : every now and then the geto suguru agenda seizes me until i cant function.

img credits: 1 2 3

[temporarywelcome]

12 Fics of Christmas Day 5 - Kyle Spencer

"Arts and Crafts"

Words: 1k

Summary: Kyle loves making Christmas gifts, going a little overboard with making presents for reader. She begins to feel neglected, unaware of what he is doing.

____

Everyone knew this guy was whipped. 

Kyle Spencer, the frat leader who was actually the world’s biggest sweetheart, was sat in the back of Tulane’s library with scissors and construction paper, carefully looking at a YouTube tutorial as he attempted to make his lovely girlfriend another unique Christmas card. The fourth he has made. 

It’s not like he had messed up on the others. He just planned on giving her four Christmas cards, or maybe even more, depending on how much time he can find for himself till Christmas Day. 

He loved giving gifts, and he especially loved giving them to his girlfriend, so he didn’t mind being hunched over a table with his brows furrowed, concentrated on the video while his homework stayed stuffed in the bottom of his bookbag for him to deal with later. Expertly cutting a straight line, Kyle paused when he saw a notification pop up on his phone. A call. From Y/N!

Setting down the scissors and paper, Kyle answered, “Hey, baby! What’s up?” he noticed another student glaring at him for being loud, causing him to flush. ‘Sorry’, he mouthed. 

“Just finished up with a class,” she chirped in response.

“Ah, anatomy, right?” he asked, now whispering. He had her schedule memorized at this point. 

“Yep! I was wondering if we could go to the cafe together?” 

Kyle pursed his lips, looking down at the project in front of him. He already had the glue gun ready and running, a mess of little knick knacks around him. “Um, how about another day?” he asked, biting his bottom lip. 

Y/N took a moment to respond, “Oh… Yeah, that’s fine! I’ll talk to you later?”

“I’ll talk to you later, baby! I’ll call you, promise,” he assured her, “I love yooooou,”

“Love you too, babe,” she laughed quietly before hanging up. 

Putting the YouTube tutorial back on, Kyle set down his phone and went back to work, determined to make the perfect card for his girlfriend. 

____

With a deep sigh, Y/N slipped her phone back into her bag, a slightly annoyed expression forming on her face. She and Kyle haven’t had a proper date in two weeks, and she was starting to get worried.  Was she doing something wrong? Or maybe he was just busy studying for finals that were coming up for the semester?

Or…

Was it possible Kyle found someone new?

No, of course not. He was a sweetheart, and everyone could agree. If he had lost feelings for her, he would tell her. As nervously and gently as possible, but he would tell her. He wouldn’t leave her hanging. 

So what the fuck was going on?

Maybe he was beginning to realize he didn’t want her anymore? He was trying to figure out how to tell her?

She didn’t know what it was, but she was beginning to feel a bit insecure. Okay, very insecure. But she won’t ever admit it. Never. The only thing that kept her a little at ease was that Kyle was missing frat parties too, so whatever he was busy with must actually be important. 

Unless he was making sure his new bitch was a secret.

Really, Y/N? Are you hearing yourself? This is Kyle Spencer! He could do no wrong. You bagged the sweetest guy on the planet. 

She was still worried.

____

Another week had passed, and Kyle was seated on his bed, humming to himself as he carefully built a Lego set of flowers, another thing to add to the growing collection of Christmas presents he had ready for Y/N. The set came with a pot and everything, the flowers in her favorite colors. It was perfect. 

A knock sounded on his door and he looked up, “Yeah, Mom?”

His mother slowly opened the door, “Y/N is here to see you,” she told him, glancing at the Legos he was diligently working on. 

He bit his bottom lip, looking at the little pieces he had thrown around, “Um, tell her I’m not feeling well, please,”

“She’s right behind me,” her mom deadpanned, and he awkwardly looked away, clearing his throat as his mother stepped aside to reveal a pissed off Y/N. 

“Shit,” Kyle mumbled to himself. Noticing Y/N storm off, he scrambled to his feet, slipping past his mother and down the stairs, “Y/N Baby, wait! Come on!”

“Fuck off,” she grumbled over her shoulder, marching straight out to the door. 

He sighed, following her down the porch and grabbing her wrist, “Can you at least listen to me?”

“You wanted your mom to lie to me and tell me you’re sick while you’re fucking around with fucking Legos?” she snapped, whirling towards his direction, “We haven’t had a proper date in three weeks, Kyle! Three fucking weeks! What the hell have you been doing this whole time?! Are literal Legos more important than your girlfriend?” 

“No no no,” he placed his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes, “Those Legos are for you, babe,”

“...what?”

Kyle chuckled softly, resting his forehead on hers, “This is our first Christmas together so you don’t really know how I am with that but… I go a bit crazy. I’ve been making you presents all month,” 

She paused, eyes darting around as she processed his words. He was making her presents. All month. That sounds like a whole ass load of presents. “All month?” she repeated.

“Yes, babe. You thought I was ignoring you for shits and giggles?” he laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “Nah, you just kept calling me at the worst times,”

“Oh…” Y/N trailed off, “I feel stupid,”

He shook his head, “No, you had every right to be suspicious. I should have made more time for you so it wasn’t so obvious something was up. I’m sorry. How about I take you out right now, babe?” 

A small smile formed on her face and she nodded, giggling as he placed a soft kiss to her nose, “Okay,”

___

Tags:

@envy-of-greed @bohnerrific69 @loveofcherry

[hannahbarberra162]

Opposites of Attraction, Chapter 2

18+ MDNI | on Ao3

The other chapter

Thank you to @nocturnalrorobin and @limitlesstildil for beta-ing this work!!

Your POV

“ - and so this Squirt is comin’ on board. Any problems and I’ll dump her overboard,” Kid yelled out to the assembled crew. He’d finally released you from his arm and demagnetized your lips now that the ship was sailing on the open water.

“No you won’t,” you said with disinterest, looking around at the ship past the assembled crew. You were familiar with some of them from wanted posters - Wire, Heat, Quincy, Emma, as well as some others you thought you recognized but weren’t sure. 

“Heh, don’t tell me what I will or won’t do. I’m the Captain here -”

“You gave yourself the nickname ‘Captain,’ doesn’t make you one,” you said dryly, now walking away from Kid and towards the mast for further inspection. Kid went red up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s not a nickname you fuckin’ bitch! This is my ship-”

“Then why’s it in quotes on your wanted posters and no one else's? Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid?” you smirked at him, making air quotes. You weren’t looking at him anymore though, you were more interested with the metal on the ship. You reached out to touch the steel-plated mast. Shitty quality , you thought to yourself. Now Kid’s chest was red too. You wondered if you could turn him red from the top of his ears down to his feet. Maybe he’d run out of blood before then and die - it was a theory you’d like to test.

“Besides, you can’t throw me overboard. I would fuck your shit up before you got the chance,” you said, now touching the shitty iron. Damn, what did they pry this off of? A kid's sandbox?

“Yeah, and how? I control -” 

“You control magnets but I control the metal,” you said with a grin, flipping him off with one hand. Still touching the metal on the mast, you added significantly more (and better quality) steel to what was already there. You used your power and a little creativity to shape it into a giant sized hand giving Kid the middle finger.

“Good likeness,” Killer said, giving you a thumbs up.

“Thanks Killer! I’m okay with sculptures, but -”

“You like it so much, you can fuckin’ stay there!” Kid yelled, probably annoyed he was already forgotten due to your awesome statue. Without warning you were jerked backward so the entirety of your body was stuck against the mast. You hit the mast hard, the air pushed out of your lungs with the unexpected movement. Kid stormed off to another area of the ship, boots stomping all the way. You rolled your eyes and molded the steel you’d added back around the mast, giving yourself a metal chair to be magnetized to. You couldn’t leave the mast but you could make it nicer for yourself. The crew broke apart to go back to work but a few came up to you as you stayed put. You watched Quincy stand up from the crate she was sitting on and hold onto it for a few moments while bent over before she righted herself. You’d always liked the looks of her from her posters but unfortunately, she left and the Commanders came over.

“You’re Wire, right?” you asked, looking the tall man up and down as he came to introduce himself.

“You know that’s right. You heard about me, Babe?” he said, leaning over you onto his forearm and giving you a wink. Did that actually work on anyone?

“Smallest dick on the seas, that’s what they say,” you deadpanned as the Commander’s face soured. Killer and another Commander laughed heartily as Wire gave you a scowl and stomped away, much like his Captain. You weren’t sure how they’d made it this long with such fragile egos - you’d make it your personal mission to deflate them.

“I’m Heat, nice to meet you,” the blue-haired man said to you, extending his hand.

“Nice to make your acquaintance but your fuckface of a Captain magnetized my hands to the mast so I can’t shake your hand,” you said with an overly saccharine tone. 

“Ah, right. Well, I’ll see you around I guess?” Heat said, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

“I’ll be here until he gets the stick out of his ass, which seems like it may never happen. Feel free to stop by,” you replied. You hoped Kid remembered to give you water to drink otherwise you’d die on his stupid ass fish ship. 

Kid’s POV

Kid was burning off steam in his workshop, welding tiny pieces of metal together to make a metal hawk. He'd felt the iron you created - it was better than almost all of the stuff on board. Creating was a great way to relieve Kid’s stress - after he’d already used the axe-throwing room and decimated the wooden target board. Kid wasn’t one to doubt his decisions but you were already a huge pain in his ass. You hadn’t been on the ship for 12 hours and he wanted to throttle you. Who the fuck did you think you were, flipping him off with his own ship? Talkin’ to him like he was some street rat in front of his crew? He didn’t like your attitude and the more he thought about your interactions, the angrier he became. He was the Captain, you worked for him, that’s all there was to it. You thought you were some tough, hot shit mercenary but Kid knew better. He’d break you and you’d regret ever fucking with him.

Killer popped his head in the workshop, the only person who could do so and keep it attached to their body.

“Dinner’s ready,” he said, hiking his thumb backward to indicate the galley. Kid put down his welding equipment, ready to destroy some food. The delicious smell wafting in from the kitchen told him it was spaghetti and meatballs, Killer’s favorite dish. A passing thought came to him as he stood up from his workbench.

“Make a plate for our guest,” he ordered, his painted mouth splitting his face wide. 

A few minutes later, after Killer prepared and gave the Captain what he asked for, Kid sauntered up to the main deck. Of course, you were exactly where he’d left you, though you’d molded yourself some kind of chair to sit on. Clever. Kid felt a raindrop on his skin - looked like a cloudy night.

“Did you finally remember humans need food and water to survive?” you mouthed off to him. Even with your high and mighty attitude, you were exactly where he left you, unable to move. Really you should be thanking him for his mercy in allowing you to open your mouth and eyelids.

“Tch. You'll survive. Humans need water every what? 4 days?”

“Oh my fucking gods. No, humans die before then. Are you - who's the doctor on the ship?” You asked, trying to look around. Kid's eye twitched with your continued sass.

“You want this food or not?” Kid grunted, holding up the plate of spaghetti while ignoring your question. You narrowed your eyes at the food but your stomach gave off a loud grumble.

“I could eat,” you said offhandedly. Kid laughed.

“Then beg me for it,” Kid sneered. Your mouth set in a way that told him your answer before you said it.

“I'd rather eat shit, Eustass,” the venom in your tone was belied by the continued growling of your stomach.

“Ah well, that's too bad,” Kid said with false sincerity. He pulled the plate back and used the fork to twirl a large amount of spaghetti onto it. Your mouth dropped open as Kid shoved it all into his own. He felt a few more raindrops on his skin but paid it no mind.

“If you feel like eating, or yanno, leaving the mast again slurp , you know what to do,” Kid said with an exaggerated shrug, already turned away with the food in his hands. You didn’t say anything but he did smile as he repulsed a wave of iron coming at him back to you. 

Your POV

It was a bitterly cold night at sea, something you were well used to. One of the many perks of being a Logia fruit user was that you didn’t feel differences in temperature as you could always turn into your iron form. Sure, it was less comfortable to stay as a solid piece of iron than laying in a bed but the benefit of being able to sleep literally anywhere outweighed a night spent with a fluffy pillow. You hadn’t lost a wink of sleep since the day you’d eaten your fruit.

Except when you were completely wet.  

And you were right now due to the raging rainstorm outside. You weren’t able to use your powers anymore and you felt like complete shit but lucky for you whatever intrinsic nature your devil fruit had given you left you still magnetized to the mast. So you were freezing to death and couldn’t make yourself immune to the cold, but also couldn’t move from where Fuckstass had left you. Your teeth were chattering together and you had lost sensation in your toes and fingers as the rain pounded you relentlessly.

The clothes you wore weren’t waterproof or meant for the cold - you had long stopped buying clothes and made your own out of finely woven iron mesh. From afar it was indistinguishable from other textiles but had the additional benefit of providing some protection against attacks. It was not, however, meant to get wet and cold and stick to your freezing body like a second skin. You were hungry, tired, wet, losing the will to live, and freezing.

If the Captain was trying to kill you, he was doing a passable job. If the rainstorm kept up and you caught a severe enough cold, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that you could die. It figured, you led a life as an infamous mercenary and what would take you out was being left out in the rain. You closed your eyes, trying to gather up the scraps of your will that remained. You had come to terms with the fact that water took away your power and ability to swim but the loss of will to live always upset you the most. Shivering as the wind whipped your hair into your face, you tried to steel yourself for the rest of the night. Morning would eventually come and hopefully, the rain would abate soon.

Kid POV

Kid was feeling a little better now that he’d tormented you over dinner. He wasn’t planning on starving you to death, he wanted your abilities for his own gain. He had touched the kind of iron you made for yourself and it was higher quality even than the steel he used for his arm. So luckily for you, he’d give you food and water or whatever after you dropped your bratty attitude. He was absorbed in making the feathers for the hawk when he felt Killer’s gaze at his back. 

“What,” Kid said, not breaking eye contact with his project.

“ ‘S raining hard out there. Coupla hours now,” Killer said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Yeah, buckets. Cold as shit too. No big storm though. Need me on deck?” Kid was unsure where Killer was going with this but Killer never interrupted without reason.

“Squirt’s still stuck to the mast,” Killer said with a shrug.

“Fuckin’ dammit, ” Kid yelled, slamming down his blow torch onto the table. He picked up what Killer was saying - you wouldn’t be able to turn into iron and avoid the cold with all the water but also couldn’t leave where he’d put you. Killer moved out of the way as Kid stomped back up to the deck, his coat billowing behind him. 

Of course, you were right where he left you. You were huddled up as much as you could, shaking uncontrollably. You were wet and shivering and your skin looked blue - Kid almost felt bad for you. You deserved it for pissing him off too much but it was probably not good, he ultimately decided. Grunting, he demagnetized you and removed his red coat as he moved onto the deck. Walking into the rain made him feel shitty in seconds, you probably felt worse.

Kid stormed up to you, wrapped you in his coat and picked you up off the deck, carrying you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest or even say anything back to him, just hung off his shoulder like a sack of grain as water fell off you in rivulets. Killer was watching from the doorway as Kid brought you inside the ship.

“Needs a warm bath, she got too cold,” Killer supplied. Kid growled and gnashed his teeth but stomped his way over to his quarters. There was hot water in the shared bathroom but someone was already in there and you needed the bath now. Easier and faster to just get it done in his own room. He set you down on the floor, his coat now just as wet as you were. Another fucking annoyance he’d have to deal with later. After turning on the spigots in his bathroom, Kid faced you. You weren’t magnetized or anything but you weren’t moving either.

“Strip,” Kid commanded, already reaching to remove his coat from your body.

“Hh- nn-no?” you answered, your tone making it seem more like a question. You were really out of it, Kid thought. He didn’t bother asking again, just started ripping off your clothes. Normally clothes shredded without him even trying but these had a little more strength to them. Holding up one of your socks, he realized it was made of steel so fine it looked like gossamer.

“The fuck…is this chainmail?” Kid grumbled as he tore the steel. He set your clothes aside, he wanted to smelt them down later. Maybe you were worth the trouble, this was good shit.

“ ‘S not chainmail, just mesh,” you mumbled, kicking off your pants. Kid was secretly pleased you weren’t protesting him taking off your clothes. He wasn’t shy about being naked and preferred when others weren’t either. His crew had seen each other naked so many times it was almost surprising when all of them were clothed. Between the two of you, you were naked in a matter of seconds. Kid picked you up around the middle with his flesh hand, noting how light you were when you weren’t being a brat and turning yourself to metal. Kid did try to not stare at your naked body but it was challenging. Your tits were just the right size and he wanted to sink his teeth into your thighs. Kid dumped you into the bath and you hissed at the sensation, recoiling from the water. Kid rolled his eyes but didn’t remark on your pain.

“Get warm then come out,” Kid grunted, leaving his towel on top of the counter for you. Your teeth were still chattering and your body was wracked with chills as he turned to leave the bathroom. You started to lean over towards the side of the tub and Kid had to move quickly to right you again. Water overload maybe - you’d been in the rain and now the bath. Too much water wouldn’t kill you but it wouldn’t feel great either. Killer would be mad if Kid left you in the bath alone since it was maybe Kid’s fault you were in this position to begin with.

“Fuckin’ brat,” Kid huffed as he used his hands to pour the tepid water over your back and head. You still weren’t talking and your eyes kept sliding shut. After a few moments, your head dropped down to your chest as you nodded out. 

“Alright, s’enough of that,” Kid said, picking you up. Getting you warm from the bath didn’t seem to be helping, you were ragdolling as he wrapped you in his oversized towel and carried you to the bed.

“You really couldn’t be more fuckin’ irritating,” Kid said while setting you on the bed. He dried you off roughly, ignoring the way the moving towel had your tits jiggling under his hand. Drying you off quickly, he grabbed one of his shirts off the floor. It was clean enough, it wasn’t like you had open wounds or anything and would mind the oil. 

“Put this on Squirt,” Kid ordered, throwing it at you. You blinked but caught it with a hand, starting to dress yourself robotically. Kid frowned, what the fuck was wrong with you? He’d given you a bath and dried you off, weren’t you better now?

“Can make my clothes,” you muttered, lifting up your hand. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare. Do that shit tomorrow. Put my shirt on pipsqueak,” Kid yelled at you. You looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.

“You still cold?” Kid asked, hanging up his soaking jacket on the coat rack.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging your knees with a yawn. “When the rain goes away I’ll go back outside,” you mumbled into your legs. A soft knock at the door told Kid Killer had stopped by. Opening the door, Kid saw Killer with a steaming mug of tea and a warm plate of food left over from dinner. 

“For Squirt,” Killer said pointedly. Kid rolled his eyes. He ate Mosh’s food once like a year ago and Killer never let him forget it. 

“Gave ‘er a bath. She’s being weird,” Kid huffed to Killer.

“Hypothermia, dummy. ‘S makin’ me tired and groggy and can’t kick your ass right now,” Kid heard you grouse from the bed. 

“Looks like she’s doing better,” Killer said, nodding along with your assessment. “She’s gonna crash soon. Needs a warm place and lotsa blankets to sleep under. Want me to take her to the ladies?” Killer offered, handing the food and mug over to Kid. When the ship was first built, the whole crew lived together in the bunks below deck but Emma and Quincy quickly demanded their own space. They said the men were gross, smelly, and snored too loud which wasn’t far from the truth. So Kid repurposed a stock room into the women’s quarters and they’d made the place much nicer than the men’s. Looking over, he saw you’d curled up in his bed and were already asleep under his heavy blanket. 

“Lemme know,” Killer offered before he sauntered away like the instigator he was. Kid huffed and set the food down on his nightstand. 

“Drink the tea, brat,” Kid said, shaking you with his metal arm. You groaned and rolled over, wrapping yourself up further in his blankets. You looked kind of…pathetic. Kid was sure that come the morning your sass would be back and you’d be spewing all kinds of nonsense but even he wasn’t completely heartless. Shoving you over to the side of his bed, Kid kicked off his boots and laid down next to you on the bed.

“Don’t get used to it Squirt. Tomorrow you’re back in the dog house,” Kid groused at your sleeping form. You exhaled sharply through your nose, annoyed with him even in your sleep. The feeling was mutual, Kid thought as he detached his metal arm and set it on the floor by his bed. He could sleep with it on but it wasn’t very comfortable and his stump appreciated the relief. 

He yanked some covers away from you but not that much. Kid ran warm all the time and even though it was freezing outside, tonight was no exception. He leaned back against his pillows, shoving his hand behind his head. He was pondering what the fuck he was going to do with you when he felt you roll into his side. 

“Oi, Squirt. What’re you up to?” Kid said quietly, not wanting to disrupt your sleep. Even though you were annoying as fuck, he didn’t like seeing you so out of it. He wanted you to be back to your bratty, sassy, irritating self so if you needed sleep, he’d let you have it. 

“Warm,” was all you said as you buried your cold nose into his side and frozen feet on his legs.

“Oi! Warn me before you do that again, what’re you made of ice?” 

“Not gonna happen yawn again. Just tonight. You tried to kill me s’os it’s ok,” you said into his side. You were wrapping yourself around him and it didn’t escape Kid’s notice that your unbound tits were pressed against him. He reacted as anyone else would - he got hard. 

“Didn’t try to kill you,” Kid muttered. 

“Did,” you replied, your arms wrapping around him. Kid was about to retort again but you sighed in contentment as you heated your body with his own. Whatever. Having a sexy (but pesky) woman cuddling up to him wasn’t the worst way he’d gone to bed, he thought as he fell asleep, willing his cock to do the same.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff

[beepboopkek]

— Hidden Surprises (F!Reader)

Including: Kamisato Ayato x AFAB!Reader amab version has been posted on both tumblr and ao3 cw: !! NSFW !!, afab!reader, established relationship, bottom!sub!reader, top!dom!ayato, fluff and smut, pwp but barely, smacking (paddle), lots of teasing/flirting/kissing, mirror s3x, cursing, d1rty talk, like one sentence of n1pple play, cl1t smacks (only a few), slight dom/sub undertones, implied dom drop from ayato, mayb a little unrealistic s3x idk, AFTERCARE!!!! w/c: approx 2.8k words, might change since i make edits while posting a/n: after 8 goddamn drafts of this fic i managed to finally finish it,, im like at a 50/50 opinion on this but honestly i jsu wanted to get the brainrot out of my system... sorry for the long absence :sob:.. also i tried changing up my writing style a little, id love any form of feedback so feel free to leave a comment :D NSFW BELOW THE CUT

The evening air was crisp as you gently swirled the Sake in your cup, eyeing your husband over the rim as he sat beside you. The Yashiro Commissioner was poised and perfect as always— his hair neatly tied over his shoulder with a ribbon that matched his usual outfit. Your gaze travelled the expanse of his torso, unconsciously lingering on his hands as he kept them folded on the table. “You've been staring for a while.” Ayato’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as your eyes met his violet ones and you smiled.

“Oh, don't mind me. I’m simply admiring the view.” Your voice had a teasing lilt as you replied, still boring your eyes into his as you took another sip of your drink.

Ayato simply raised a brow at you, before moving his curious gaze to the half-empty bottle of Sake left beside you— immediately bringing out a hand to drag the bottle away from your reach.

“Hey! I was drinking that—!” You tried to snatch back the bottle like a cat that got its toy taken away but unfortunately for you, Ayato was too fast.

“Oh, I know.” Your husband only infuriatingly smiled back at you, relishing in the adorable pout on your face as you folded your arms in annoyance.

“I apologise, I want you to be somewhat sober tonight.” 

You gasped, placing a hand on your chest, and giving him an offended look.

“I am sober! I only had two glasses.”

“Mhmm. Whatever you say.” 

“Why do you need me to be sober anyway?”

Ayato leaned towards you, resting his hand on a closed palm. He tilted his head and looked at you with nothing short of pure adoration before saying, “I have a surprise for you.”

This time, it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him. You mimicked his position (albeit with less elegance) as you tried to make the mental calculations to discern what this “surprise” could be.

Ayato and the word “surprise” never really mixed well for you. The last time he had a "surprise," it involved a strange hotpot that left you feeling queasy for days.

Ah.

Bingo.

“If it's another one of your horrible food concoctions, count me out.”

Ayato chuckled, a wide smile spreading across his face as he shook his head lightly. “Hehe, not to worry, dear. It's something you'll like.”

You would never admit it, but the two glasses of Sake did, in fact, put your mind in a pleasant buzz. You were never a good drinker to begin with so maybe it was good that your husband had confiscated your wine before you went overboard.

Well, that certainly wasn't going to stop you from teasing him, though.

You gave Ayato a languid gaze as you reached out a hand to twirl soft baby blue strands between your fingers, feeling his eyes on you as you brought his hair towards your lips, leaning in to give the strands a chaste kiss. You could feel Ayato’s breath hitch at the blatant display of public affection, which you didn't do very often.

“ … Tell me what it is then.”

Ayato recovered quickly, pulling back his face of smug satisfaction as he smiled.

“Well, it wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would it?”

You pouted at him again and he only chuckled in response, giving you a coy smile.

Two can play that game.

You surveyed your surroundings before deducing that no one would catch you and a mischievous smile coiled on your face as you observed your husband suddenly stuck in conversation with someone seated in front of the two of you.

You quietly praised each archon for giving you this golden opportunity as the perfect distraction appeared without any effort on your part. 

You reached out to place your hand on his knee under the table, pretending to swirl the non-existent wine in your cup with the other so that no one would suspect a thing.

Ayato's eyes flickered to yours for a split second before continuing the conversation as if nothing had happened.

You smiled to yourself as you began to stroke the inside of his thigh with your thumb, inching your hand higher and higher.

He'd never admit it, but you could feel the way his leg shook ever so slightly at the intimate contact.

You kept your hand stationed there for the short duration of the commissioner’s conversation, cheekily observing the light dust of red that had covered the high rise of his cheeks (which he would later blame on the alcohol).

You're broken out of your giddy stupor when you feel a larger hand on yours, stopping all motion as he gripped your hand tightly before passing you a faux smile and turning back to excuse the two of you.

Rascal.

“I apologise, my wife seems to be getting tired.”

You looked at the guest and gave him an apologetic smile although you were anything but that.

The both of you quickly bid your goodbyes to more guests as you made your way out, your husband almost dragging you by the hand.

While the Yashiro Commissioner looked just about normal to everyone, you could see the impatient jitter in his steps, the flush down his neck and the slightly hurried hush in his voice as he navigated the two of you through the crowd.

Right as you were about to board the carriage to make your way back up to the Kamisato estate, Ayato pulled you against his chest to whisper into your ear—

“I'm going to ruin you tonight.”

…

Ayato kept a firm hand on your thigh the entire ride back, occasionally squeezing it while conversing with you as if nothing was happening.

As if he didn't make your entire body shudder with just a sentence.

As soon as the two of you entered the privacy of your shared room, Ayato covered your eyes with his hands and instructed you to keep them closed until he asked you to open them again while he helped you out of your outfit, both of you giggling at your unstable movements from being temporarily blinded.

Which landed you here, stark naked and seated on the edge of the bed waiting for your husband late into the night. Your eyes were screwed shut as he shuffled around the room before quietly helping you up and settling you on his lap— his slender hands squeezing around your body as he leaned in to nibble the shell of your ear. He moved his hands to your belly before dipping his hands in between and prying your legs apart with a gentle insistence that had you murmuring his name in half-hearted protest.

“Open your eyes.”

You did just that, adjusting to the sudden brightness as you took in the sight before you.

A large rectangular mirror with an ornate gold frame with the Kamisato crest on the top, set on the wall in front of your bed. 

You observed your reflection in the mirror with shallow breaths, the golden lamps doused the room in a soft glow as you shivered, your husband's hands still placed between your thighs, keeping them apart.

Archons.

Your eyes met Ayato's observant gaze in the mirror as he spoke again, "Well, what do you think?"

“ … It's beautiful.”

Ayato smiled against your ear, kissing the side of your head affectionately.

“I knew you would like it.” Your breath hitched in embarrassment as your gaze travelled the entire expanse of the mirror, your ears burning with the overwhelming urge to hide. You could see every inch of your exposed body reflected at you, making your heart race.

“But, why—”

His hands remained steady on your thighs, grounding you as he squeezed them again and cut you off with a kiss to the side of your neck as he looked at you through the mirror. “I want you to see how mesmerising you look.”

His hands travelled along the outline of your torso as you waited for him to continue, “I want you to see what I see.” That's when his left hand reached back onto the bed, fumbling momentarily before he brought something forward. You glanced down, curiosity piqued, and saw that he held a— Oh.“I thought you’d be more romantic with your surprise.” A paddle. With a tiny heart cut out in the middle of it. “Well, I’ve always believed in doing things in a more unorthodox way.” The mischievous glint in his eye told you there was more to this. Ayato’s hand, which was still on your thigh, pulled it back a little further. He gently swept the paddle against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the polished wood providing a smooth glide. “The rules are simple,”

You tore your eyes from the mirror to glance to your side when he raised the paddle a little, striking down on your thigh. You jolted in surprise as you immediately felt his hand rub the irritated skin softly. “One, do not look away from the mirror.” Ayato’s finger traced the heart imprint left on your thigh as he continued, “— and two, do not close your eyes.” Ayato’s hands traced the outline of your body as he silently awaited your consent. The silence was that of comfort, you felt relaxed knowing you could opt out of this at any moment and your husband wouldn’t hold it against you. You smirked. “… Ruin me, Commissioner.” You felt a sharp exhale on your shoulder as Ayato’s hands moved with renewed purpose all over your body. You felt his hand creep towards your chest, fondling one side as he tweaked the nipple between his fingers, your low moans now filling the room. He latched his lips onto the column of your neck as he begrudgingly left your chest to trail his hand towards your clit. His other hand was still holding onto the paddle that rested against your thigh, unmoving and unfaltering in making its presence known. A wave of relief washed over you as his fingers made contact with your clit, your eyes closed in pure bliss as you moaned in pleasure, locking your hands behind his neck and— A smack to the inside of your thigh snapped your eyes right back open in shock. Oh. Right.“Eyes on the mirror.” You nodded fervently as Ayato went back to toying with your clit, drawing sticky sweet circles as his sharp gaze stayed glued to your body through the mirror. You glanced down to your thighs in the mirror to see a red imprint of the paddle on your skin and looked back up to meet Ayato’s heated gaze, a coy smirk playing into his voice as he spoke again. “Enjoy the show, dear.” Ayato slid his now wet middle and ring finger down, dipping the tips inside you as you shook in anticipation. His hand flexed as he moved his fingers deeper, lightly thrusting them in and out as he searched for your sensitive spots with experienced precision.

“All that bravado in the evening, where is it now?” 

He ground his palm into your clit as he pushed his fingers to the knuckle— Your moans mingling with his heavy breaths. You pushed yourself back against his chest in hopes of alleviating some of the tension in his pants.

His voice was breathless as he spoke in your ear, 

“Do you like it when I do this?” and he curled his fingers inside you, making you moan again.

Maybe it was the whole evening of teasing that got you to the cusp of an orgasm so soon but, it was quickly becoming too much. Ayato's skilled hands proved to be too deadly for you— making you close your eyes and lean your head back onto his shoulder as you moaned.

Smack!

Eyes opened wide, you jolted back up and your orgasm washed over you immediately as Ayato continued to pump his fingers in and out to help you ride it out.

“Fuck—”

You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open. Ayato stilled as his left hand let go of the paddle to grab your chin, forcing you to look sideways as he kissed you deeply.

Your lips parted with his as you both caught your breath— your husband gently removing his fingers from you and wiping them onto the cloth laid next to him.

Ayato moved you a little forward as he unzipped his pants, pulling his cock from underneath you so that it poked out between your soft thighs.

Archons, he could get used to this view.

He wanted to make you wait, wanted to edge you until you were begging for him, tears sticking to your clumped lashes as you pouted at him, whining and writhing in his hold as he kept your pleasure from you. 

But he couldn't.

He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He aligned himself with you, slowly pushing in as you both moaned in relief.

Ayato curled a hand around your waist to hold you in place as he set a rhythm of short and quick thrusts, latching his mouth onto your neck again as he bit down to stifle his moans.

“Ayato, please-” 

A resonant smack to your sensitive nipple is all that you get in response as you immediately plaster your eyes back on the mirror.

— and archons was it a sight, your bodies were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as red-purple imprints of the paddle were littered across the expanse of your soft skin, little bruises blossoming on both sides of your neck, your hair stuck to your forehead as you writhed in your spot, aching to find release again.

The hand curled around your waist twisted downwards to play with your clit as you sighed in pure bliss before you abruptly felt his hand moving away and a series of smacks on your sensitive nerves.

Fuck. You didn't even notice you stopped looking at the mirror.

He unlatched himself from your neck, leaving deep imprints of his teeth as he raised his head to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

“You know I don't like repeating myself.”

Tears clung to your eyes as your body buzzed through the different sensations of pain and pleasure, the thought of disappointing your husband sitting heavy in your throat as you swallowed down your complaints.

His pace grew erratic as you held onto him, heavy moans mingling with his silent ones as tears slipped from your eyes.

“Come with me.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as Ayato spoke into your ear. You barely registered the tip of the paddle hitting your clit again or how your husband pulled out just in time to finish on your lower back— your legs trembling as you clenched around nothing.

Holy shit.

Ayato detached himself from you, flipping you over so that you were laid flat on the bed on your stomach as you caught your breath. He took the washcloth he had set up earlier to clean you off a little before helping you up and lifting you to prepare a bath.

You were floating, you weren't sure how much time had passed when you came to but you were (yet again) seated in your husband’s lap as he gently massaged your stiff shoulders, waiting for you to regain your senses. “ … Hi.” You spoke as you turned your head to meet his lips in a soft kiss. “Hello.” You got up on shaking limbs, turning your body over so that you were straddling his legs. Ayato looked at you questioningly, tilting his head. You simply kissed the mole under his lip as you replied, “I wanted to see your face.”

“Oh? Did you miss me?”

You kissed the tip of his nose this time, “Yes.” 

He smiled, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his gaze lingered on all the hickeys he had left, his face dropping a little.

“How are you feeling?”

“Great. A little sore but I'll be fine.”

You leaned down to kiss the mole on his collarbone, lingering there to leave a love bite of your own.

There was a pause, you knew this was when he would start questioning himself.

“Was I—?”

Before he could finish his question, you captured his lips in a soft kiss, caressing the back of his head with your hands as you gently massage it.

“No. It was perfect. In every sense of the word, I enjoyed it.”

Ayato smiled at you again.

There was a comfortable silence after that, the both of you taking turns to wash out each other's hair and backs, sneaking small kisses in between as you giggled.

You dried each other off before your husband laid you down on the bed, procuring an ointment seemingly out of nowhere as he applied it to the bruises on your thighs.

You laid down on the soft sheets and felt the energy drain from your bones, giving Ayato one last peck on the lips before you drifted off to sleep.

“I love you.”

He kissed the top of your head lovingly, and if you were any more tired, you would've missed his response.

“I find myself falling for you more and more every single day. Goodnight, dear.”

[drewsarms]

i need reader making fun of hick!rafe for being a dumb, uneducated country boy, and bc of that, he fucks her hard in her dad's shed. i imagine his overalls pooling around his ankles, his thick cock pounding into her and putting her in her place as he's whispering things like "you're looking awfully dumb to me right now princess" in his thick north carolina accent 🫠🫠

━━⊱⋆⊰━━

𐙚: I hope you loveee it!!! I feel like I went a little overboard bc hick!rafe 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 inspired by this post!!!!

𐙚: 18+ mdni!!

Since your dad was always so busy with his line of work he never had time to tend to the yard or anything for that matter. He always asked Rafe to do it. Ever since you could remember you always took a liking to Rafe. He was older than you, more experienced, and such a nice sight so see but you’d rather be caught dead than to be with a hick.

You sat on one of the folded chairs in your dad’s shed watching Rafe work on one of your dad’s cars. Seeing him all sweaty and focused made your pussy throb. He was so so muscular and hairy in just the right places. You concentrated on his face. The way his brows arched, to the way his mustache covered his top lip so perfectly. You could only imagine how it would feel between your thighs and rubbing against your clit. Your eyes trailed down to his chest and stomach. It was covered by his stupid overalls. The way his body glistened under them with sweat made him look even more sexy. You watched as his muscles flexed every time he tightened or loosened something, making you squeeze your legs together. You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Rafe chuckle. “Whatcha staring at sugar?” You look down at the ground trying to hide your embarrassment. He starts working back on the car a string of curses coming out of his mouth. “I tell you what. I don’t know what your dad did to his car. I can’t figure this shit out for the life of me.” He steps back looking at the hood while taking a sip of his beer. “I don’t know why my dad gets you to do stuff.” You say rolling your eyes. He looks over at you, setting his beer down. “What do you mean?” You hadn’t realized what you said until after the fact. All you knew was that you were in deep shit. But you meant every. single. word. “I dont know why my dad gets you to help around. You’re nothing but a dumb, uneducated hick. Any other person or mechanic would have been done in at least an hour but you’ve been here for almost 4.” You could see Rafe’s face change. His jaw clenched. He grabs a rag wiping off his oiled coated hands. “I don’t know what your problem is but you better take that back. You know that shit isn’t true. You’re digging yourself an even deeper whole little girl.” You jump up from off the chair and turn to walk out. “I’m just stating the obvious. I mean that is the definition of a hick and you exude that pretty well. Maybe you’re too dumb to know that.”

━━⊱⋆⊰━━

Your legs are spread and your back is leaning against the cool wood. You can’t remember how you got here but you know you liked it. Rafe is pounding into you so hard that he’s knocking things off the walls and off the shelves. Those blue overalls now pooling around his ankles. He leans down to your ear. Kissing and licking at it. “What was all that shit you were saying hun,” he whispers in your ear. You can barely keep your eyes open. He slaps your cheek making you jump and look at him. His oiled hands grab at your chin harshly, making a tear fall from your eyes. He raises an eyebrow like he’s waiting for you to say something. “You gonna repeat it angel?” You try to speak but your whole body feels so fuzzy that all that’s coming out of mouth is sweet whines, whimpers, and ah, ah, ahs. He runs his thumb against your bottom lip making you open your mouth. He spits on your face, purposely missing your mouth. You whine as he rubs it into your skin. “I thought I was nothing but a dumb hick.” He chuckles looking at how fucked out you were. His cock sliding in and out of your pussy repeatedly, stretching you out, and hitting your g spot was sending you over the edge. The squelches from your sweet cunt only made him fuck you harder. “You’re looking awfully dumb to me right now princess.”

(Yeah he has that dick that makes you go absolutely stupid)

[loulou-land]

"Mistle-Nope (But Maybe Yes)”

🎄 My bucktommy Christmas fic is here! Story time: I was bored last week at work and scrolling through insta when I came across this post. I immediately thought "Ah yes! that's Bucktommy and Eddie” lol. And so, this story was born 😂 I hope you all enjoy it! I loved writing it (even if I struggled with it at times). 🎄

Gen | 3.1K words | bucktommy | Post-Break Up, Getting Back Together, Crack Treated Seriously, Multi-POV, Mistletoe Shenanigans

read on ao3 or below the cut

This year’s Christmas party was taking place at Bobby and Athena’s new house. They’d wanted to celebrate the start of this new chapter in their lives, and inviting everyone over for Christmas dinner seemed like the perfect time. As a result, they went all out with the decorations. Warm lights draped across every available surface, and a tall tree, decked out in ornaments that looked like they came straight out of a catalog, took over a large part of the living room. A drink station in the room’s corner featured wine, warm apple cider, and hot chocolate. From the kitchen wafted the unmistakable scent of various baked goods–apple pie, red velvet cake, gingerbread and sugar cookies–completely overtaking the orange glazed ham that Bobby had prepared. And sprigs of mistletoe hung above all the doorways. 

The 118, along with their partners and children, spread out through the house, and while the general mood was festive, there was a particular sense of tension coming from two of their guests. 

Buck stood by the kitchen counter, focusing intently on finishing the decorative touches on the sugar cookies, glancing up now and then surreptitiously across the room. By the drinks station stood Tommy, swirling his wine and staring into his glass as if it held the answers to all his life’s problems.   

If anyone asked, Buck was fine. Totally fine. When Bobby had approached him about inviting Tommy to the Christmas party, he’d only hesitated for a moment. He could handle any awkwardness that might arise between them–after all, they’d already crossed paths during a few calls. And despite the hurt Buck sometimes still felt, he didn't want Tommy to spend Christmas alone. If he’d gone a little overboard with the baking at the thought of spending the holiday with the man who’d broken his heart– well that was entirely Buck’s business. Bobby and Athena had gotten a delicious spread of desserts, so they knew not to bring up the subject to him. Although they kept sending concerned glances his way when they thought he wasn't looking.  

There was one thing Buck hadn't counted on, however. That was, how overwhelmed he'd feel, suddenly being so much closer to Tommy than he'd had the chance to be in months. He thought he had finally made his peace with the breakup, had stopped wondering why, and had tried to move on. But being here together like this–it only reminded him that what they'd had between them still felt unfinished, lingering like an itch he couldn't scratch. 

Unfortunately for Buck, everyone else at the party had noticed too. 

———————————————————

“They’re killing me,” Hen muttered from her spot by the fireplace. 

“Excruciating,” Chimney agreed, reaching to steal a cookie off the dessert tray atop the coffee table. “Did you see that? Tommy glanced over at Buck four times in the last minute. And Buck’s looked back twice.” 

Hen snorted, giving him an incredulous look. “You’re counting their glances?” 

Chimney shrugged. “What? I’m a details guy. Also, it’s driving me crazy.” 

Hen raised her eyebrow. “You’re the one who absolutely insisted he needed to be invited. How’d you get Bobby to do it anyways?” 

“I have my ways,” he said, looking around shiftily. “And, I thought it’d help!” Chimney said defensively. “You know, finally getting them together in one place, no emergencies or other duties as an excuse. I thought they'd finally get to talking.” He shrugged, “Maybe spark some reconciliation. Come on! They belong together.” 

“Mhm. And how’s that working out for you?” 

Chimney groaned, rubbing his face. “It’s like watching the world’s most bizarre mating dance, they keep fluffing their feathers at each other and then running in the opposite direction” 

“You two are ridiculous,” Eddie muttered, finally joining the conversation. 

“Oh, we’re ridiculous?” Chimney scoffed. “Eddie, you’ve been staring at them like they’re the main couple in your favorite Telenovela.” 

Eddie didn't deny it. He had also noticed how Buck and Tommy’s eyes kept gravitating towards each other. How Buck would go over to refill his drink, brushing up against Tommy in the process. And how Tommy would look like he wanted to say something, but always stopped himself at the last second. Looking at them, it was obvious how much they still cared for one another, the problem was–neither of them would make the first move to fix it. 

“They’re idiots,” Eddie muttered. Buck was like a brother and Tommy was a really good friend, which is why it made this whole situation frustrating. The two of them needed to get their heads out of their asses and just talk to each other. Being apart clearly wasn't working for them. Buck still had his crazy baking binges whenever he particularly missed Tommy. And Tommy–well he kicked Eddie's ass onto the Muay Thai mats one too many times. They needed to mend this before his body was taken out of commission. Death by baked goods or combat sports, he shuddered at the thought. He was really starting to regret keeping Buck from texting Tommy a month ago. 

“Big, lovable idiots,” Hen agreed. “So what are we gonna do about it?” 

Chimney grinned, reaching into his pocket to reveal a small sprig of mistletoe. “I brought reinforcements.” 

Eddie frowned. “Seriously? How is that going to help” 

“Oh come on,” Chimney said, moving the mistletoe in his hand. “It’s Christmas. A little mistletoe magic never hurt anybody.”

Hen folded her arms. “I think your plan’s in trouble already. Buck’s been avoiding every doorway like it’s a hazard zone.” 

“And Tommy’s all but taken residence in front of that drink station. Plus I think he’d just leave if he figured out what we were up to.” Chimney sighed disappointingly.

Eddie groaned, watching as Buck and Tommy, still on opposite sides of the room, once again glanced at each other when they thought no one was looking. It was infuriating. 

“You know what?” Eddie said, standing up straighter. “Give me that thing.”

Chimney blinked in confusion. “What?” 

“The mistletoe.” Eddie snatched it from Chimney’s hand. 

Hen raised an eyebrow. “What’s your plan?” 

Eddie scowled. “I don’t have one. I’m improvising.”  ———————————————————

At the kitchen island, Buck was cutting the apple pie and setting the pieces onto plates when he sensed someone approaching. He glanced up–and there was Tommy, trying to stealthily grab a piece of cake. 

“Uh, hey,” Tommy said sheepishly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that special way of his.  

Buck froze in panic for half a second before schooling his expression into something neutral. “H–Hey”

The air between them was awkward–slightly charged with an undercurrent of tension and things left unsaid. Buck didn’t know how to shake the feeling. 

“You having fun?” Tommy asked. 

“Uh y–yeah, definitely,”Buck lied, nodding like a bobble head. Jeez, pull yourself together, he thought. “Great party, Lots of, uh, desserts!” 

Tommy gave him a look, and Buck hated that Tommy could still see through him so easily. 

“Good, I’m glad,” Tommy replied, voice a little tight. 

Before Buck could continue blabbing and making a fool of himself, Eddie appeared out of nowhere, looking far too determined for Buck’s comfort. 

“Alright,” Eddie said, interrupting whatever awkward moment the two were having. Eddie was happy they were finally talking, but he was on a mission now. 

Both Buck and Tommy blinked at him in confusion. 

“Eddie,” Buck  started, “what–”

Eddie raised his arm, holding up the sprig of mistletoe like it was a declaration of war. “You’re under it.” 

Tommy squinted, “What?” 

“You’re under the mistletoe," Eddie repeated, deadpan. 

“You’re holding it,” Tommy frowned. 

“It doesn't matter,” Eddie said stubbornly, slightly shaking the mistletoe over them. “Still counts.” 

Buck scoffed at him. “That’s not how mistletoe works, man. And you can’t just go holding it up above people's heads, it’s–”

“Shut up and kiss,” Eddie cut in, face blank and his voice completely flat. 

Tommy turned to Buck, his expression torn between amusement and disbelief. “Is he serious right now?” 

Eddie, once again wiggled the mistletoe above their heads. “Yes, now kiss.”  

For a moment, neither of them moved. The room had gone so quiet, you could hear a pin drop—Hen and Chimney watched with barely restrained glee, Athena peeked out from the hallway, Bobby pretended he wasn't paying attention and Maddie was trying to sneakily record the moment. 

Buck huffed a small laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You know what? Fine.”

Tommy looked at him surprised. “Fine?” 

“Yeah, fine,” Buck repeated, turning to face him. His voice was quieter, softer when he added, “It’s Christmas, right?” He hated how desperate he sounded, how much he actually wanted to feel Tommy’s lips on his. One more time, even if—he never recovered from this again. 

Tommy’s brow furrowed. He looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Buck’s eyes made him stop. Instead, he took a deep breath and exhaled a quiet laugh. The butterflies in Buck’s stomach multiplied at the sound of it; he had really missed Tommy’s laugh.  

“Alright,” Tommy said, stepping closer. 

And then it happened. 

The kiss started tentatively—hesitant, careful—but somewhere between the first touch and the way Tommy’s thumb brushed under his chin, so reminiscent of their first kiss forever ago, it deepened. The room erupted in cheers and whistles, but Buck and Tommy didn’t seem to notice. Now that they’d had a taste of each other again, they had no plans of stopping anytime soon.   

———————————————————

The cheers had grown louder—Chimney was whooping like he’d just won the lottery, Karen and Hen were clapping and murmuring to each other, Athena was just shaking her head at the theatrics while Bobby looked on proudly, and Maddie looked entirely too satisfied with her phone.  

Eddie, meanwhile, stood frozen in place, mistletoe still held awkwardly over Buck and Tommy, staring at the unfolding scene in front of him. 

“O…okay,” he muttered under his breath. “That worked a little too well” 

Eddie admitted he hadn't thought farther than getting these two to face their feelings for each other. At most, he was expecting an awkward peck and them finally talking things out. He should’ve known better–this was Buck and Tommy, the two had been notorious for never being able to keep their hands off one another. 

He stood regretting all his life choices and wondering why he was still watching his best friends make out in front of him when suddenly–he heard one of them moan and that was it. “Nope, nu-uh.” 

He chucked the mistletoe behind him, ignoring Chim’s oof and weak protest. 

“Alright, mistletoe’s gone. Please, for the love of god and everyone's eyes tonight—get a room” Eddie pleaded. 

“Not one of ours,” Athena interjected dryly. 

That seemed to finally snap the couple back to reality, Tommy and Buck ended the kiss–both blushing and breathless, but staring at each other like they’d just discovered the meaning of life. 

The look between them lingered, something unspoken but heavy passing in the air–a shared understanding and quite possibly a first step towards fixing what had once been broken between them. 

“Want to get some fresh air?” Tommy softly asked Buck. 

“Ye…Yeah,” Buck answered happily, ducking his head shyly. 

Buck and Tommy turned to Eddie. They both beamed at him and excused themselves–Tommy setting his hand on Buck’s lower back and leading him outside. Eddie shook his head fondly, finally happy his friends had come together. Though he couldn’t quite believe he had to be the catalyst for it. 

“Nice Work, Cupid,” Chimney said, elbowing him. 

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie muttered, glaring at the mistletoe clutched in Chim’s hand. “Also, different Holiday” 

“It looks like you solved the problem,” Hen added.

“I just gently pushed things along. And now, I need a drink for my troubles,” Eddie said, already looking towards the drink station like the world’s thirstiest man.

“Oh, come on man,” Chimney said excitedly. “You know what you’ve just done?” he asked dramatically, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “You’ve given us a Christmas miracle!” 

Eddie just rolled his eyes and walked away to get his drink. 

As he walked away, Chimney turned to Hen smirking. “I give them two weeks before they’re back together officially.” 

Athena, from the kitchen yelled “One week!” 

“Three days,” Bobby called out casually as he walked by with a tray of cookies. 

Hen snorted, shaking her head. “You all know they’re getting back together by the end of the night. But I’m always happy to take your money.”

———————————————————

Outside, the night was cool—the kind of December night in California where a light jacket was all you needed. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the back of Bobby and Athena’s yard. Twinkling Christmas lights wrapped around the patio’s gazebo casting a warm light over them. 

Tommy and Evan stood side by side, the sound of laughter and soft music occasionally filtering through the partially closed glass doors behind them. 

Tommy had his arms crossed, feeling like it was the only thing keeping him steady. At his side, Evan rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his feet, scuffing marks onto the concrete floor beneath him. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the night filling the silence and space between them. 

Finally, Tommy broke that silence. “So…that just happened.” 

Evan let out a choked laugh, nodding. “Yeah. That definitely happened.” 

Tommy turned to him, his expression soft but hesitant. “I didn't think you’d actually do it.” 

Evan gave a small shrug, his voice quieter now. “Honestly, neither did I. But then Eddie started waving that stupid mistletoe, and I thought…why not? I mean, what’s one more heartbreak, right?” He tried to laugh it off, but it came out more bitter than he was expecting. 

Tommy’s face fell, and he took a small step closer. “Ev…Buck. Fuck, no—Evan,” he said imploringly. His stomach churned at the thought of Evan hurting, all because he had been a coward. 

“No, it’s fine,” Buck apologized quickly, shaking his head. “I’m okay. Really.” 

“Stop,” Tommy said, his voice firm but not harsh. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Evan.” 

Evan looked at him then, and the vulnerability in his eyes hit Tommy like a punch to the chest. “I don’t know how to do this, Tommy,” Evan admitted. “I don’t know how to stand here with you and act like everything’s okay when you were the one who left me. And yet, I still…” He swallowed hard, his voice trailing off一looking at Tommy slightly scared. 

Tommy felt like he couldn't breathe. He was terrified to ask, but he needed to know. “Yet you still what? He asked gently, stepping closer. 

“I still love you,” Evan finished, his voice barely audible. “And I don’t know how to stop. I’ve tried, Tommy. I promise, but…” 

Tommy’s heart twisted at the raw honesty in Evan’s voice. He reached out, tentatively, his hand hovering for a moment in the space between them, before resting it lightly on the side of Evan’s face. “You’re not the only one,” he said softly. 

Evan inhaled sharply and his eyes met Tommy’s, searching for any sign of deception, of hesitation. “What are you saying?” 

Tommy took a deep breath, his fingers twitching slightly on Evan’s face. “I’m saying I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I’ve spent every moment since I walked out of your loft that night trying to convince myself it was the right thing to do. That you’d be better off without me一”

“Tommy一, Evan tried to interrupt. 

Tommy kept talking, as though he didn't hear Evan. “But seeing you tonight…being near you again…”He shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s like I’ve been living without a heart all this time, and now, here with you一I can feel it beating again.” 

Evan stared at him, uncomprehendingly. “Then why did you leave, Tommy?” 

Tommy’s shoulders sagged under the weight of the question. “That night, when you asked me to move in, I was terrified. I felt like I’d fooled you into thinking I was this amazing guy, and if I let it go on…I’d keep trying to be someone I wasn’t. Or you’d eventually see the real me一a broken and lonely man with a lot of baggage—and eventually you’d realize you’d made a mistake. I didn’t know which one would be worse. I had been hurt so many times before, I couldn't let you break my heart. So I panicked and ran. And broke my own heart in the process.”  

For a moment, Evan didn't say anything, his eyes searching Tommy’s face. Tommy felt his heart clenching in fear at Evan deciding to leave. Then, slowly, Evan reached up and covered Tommy's hand with his own. “I’m sorry, I realized afterwards that I really blindsided you. I should've just told you what I really meant, that I love you and wanted you around as much as possible. I understand being afraid. But Tommy, It wasn't fair of you to make that decision for us. For me. I've been in relationships before, I know when I want something.”

“I know,” Tommy said quietly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said it like that. Shouldn't have said it at all.”

“Good,” Evan said, squeezing Tommy’s hand. “And, I get scared too,” he admitted. “But maybe this time around we can really talk and get to know each other better and figure it all out, together.” 

Tommy felt his lips twisting into a smile. “I’d like that. And maybe next time you can remember I own a house, Evan.” Tommy said, using his other hand to poke him on the side. 

Evan’s face exploded into a blinding smile, squirming slightly at Tommy touching his side. “Right, see we’re already discussing the important details!”  

Tommy shook his head fondly, and finally let himself lean forward softly putting his lips to the pink mark above Evan’s eyebrow. Evan sighed happily. 

They stood there for a moment, looking into one another 's eyes, neither quite believing the other was real. Feeling infinitely grateful to their friend who had given them the push they needed to get here. The glow from the Christmas lights reflected in Evan’s beautiful shining blue eyes, as Tommy traced his thumb over his lips. 

“Merry Christmas, Evan,” Tommy said gently, his voice carrying a note of something vulnerable but undeniably hopeful. 

“Merry Christmas, Tommy,” Evan replied, pulling him towards him and into a soft kiss. 

And for the first time in months, the space between them didn't feel unbridgeable. It felt like the start of something new. Something stronger. Unshakeable. 

[babylacedream]

please dont ask why theres blood on my hands

i always find myself back to you જ part 9 of ?

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10

pairing: yandere!bucky barnes x f! reincarnated autistic reader

warning: struggling with bucky's death, grief, yandere themes, anxiety, obsessed!bucky, violence, angsty, separation anxiety, talks of suicide, depression, mental illness, death, ableism

summary: you told something serious to bucky.

notes: inspired by pinkpantheress unreleased song called whisker, I recommend listening.

please remember i am autistic, so i will be writing my personal experience with my autism. thanks!

ps im not fully knowledgeable about buckys timeline so the years might not add up to the mcu's timeline.

this hit too close to home <3 i honestly dont even know what i just wrote haha wish you luck!

Why'd I keep trying to go overboard? I tried to do this while there's police at my door Please don't ask why there's blood on my hands I know he saw them, now he won't ask me to dance I love watching you smile, the way that you feel I just need a passport But that's how we live in the morning Well, he said "come watch the sunrise" It's all worth it, just to see the look in your eyes When they've gone bright Ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah And im alone all the time, i can't admit that i like you You want to leave me, so bad Ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah ah-ah I can't do this so well, so now I won't let you go

While you were fast asleep, the Winter Solider knew they were here, like the rats, they were lurking around in your apartment.

It was a nightly routine, taking care of these rats.

The Winter Solider gazed at your sleeping figure, not being able to take his blue eyes off your peaceful state. He caressed your cheek, a silent promise that he would always and forever protect you.

The Winter Solider went out of your room to investigate. The Winter Solider looked in your kitchen. A rat placed a HYDRA device in your ventilation. A device he knew all too well.

Смерть Устройство

A lethal smoke that would slowly kill you, making you have the worst dreams of all, while it killed you from the inside and out.

The Winter Solider was tall enough to reach the vent above your kitchen; it was no difficult task for him to easily rip open the vent.

With the device on the Winter Solider's titanium hand, he crushed it beneath his hold.

But why would the Winter Solider let them in? Maybe the Winter Solider wanted to play a bit with the rat, making it think it had a chance to leave unscathed.

The Winter Solider looked towards the kitchen window to see the rat hiding out like a coward behind the bushes you usually tended to.

It was ruining your bushes.

The Winter Solider had no use for a gun; right now, he just wanted the little rat to suffer with his deathly strength.

Let's just say the Winter Solider had squeezed the rat like you usually squeeze those limes you use to make your favorite guacamole.

The Winter Solider never wants you to see him like this. That killing instinct he felt for these rats, he would feel it only for you.

The Winter Solider disposed of the disfigured body, making sure it never reached your sight.

The Winter Solider cleaned himself from the blood in the shower. He knows how sensitive you are to these things.

You would be scared. Terrified of him. You would even run away from him.

The Winter Solider climbed in bed with you, pulling you close to his arms as you slept, and buried himself into your chest.

It was five in the afternoon, and you were in the kitchen making some hot dogs for Bucky and yourself. You were very specific about how you liked your hot dogs.

You placed the sausages in a bowl with water and sprinkled seasoning on the sausages. You hated when sausages were grilled. You put the bowl in the microwave, letting it heat.

You went to your counter to grab the hot dog buns, and you picked out a plate for you and Bucky, placing two hot dog buns on each plate. The microwave beeped, you took out the hot bowl and placed the sausages in each bun.

You opened your refrigerator and took out your ketchup and mayo because you forgot to buy yellow mustard. After finishing decorating your hot dogs the way you like.

You placed both plates on the dinette table. Bucky was eating the hot dog. It looked like he enjoyed them. So, you were staring at him to get any reaction from him.

"Is it good?"

Bucky licked his lips clean of ketchup and nodded, chewing the food. "It reminds me of when you made me this on that school field trip."

You smiled and ate your hot dog. You were glad he liked them because you liked them too.

You were doodling on your writing table in your bedroom when you heard a noise outside your door. You placed your pencil on the table and walked out.

Bucky was replacing the old vent with a new one.

"Woah, what happened?"

"A rat."

You were in the living room, pondering when your home phone rang. You answered. It was your mother...

You wouldn't say you have the greatest relationship with your mother. She was very unfriendly towards you. Finding out she had such a strange, depressing daughter was not in her plans.

When you were just a baby, you were quiet, not speaking until you were six years old. You were named the sad girl in Elementary school because one of your classmates heard you mumble the words, "I wish I was dead."

What's worse is that you tried confiding in her about your problems with your past memories, but she brushed you off like usual. What did you expect?

"What is it, mother?"

"Ah, darling. I found a date for you. He's in his mid-thirties, a great man, and has lots of money."

"Mother, I've already told you this. I don't plan on dating."

A sigh through the phone made you roll your eyes. "Do you want to die alone? Is that it? Are you trying to make your mother depressed like you?"

You exhaled, rubbing your temples. "Mother, please. I—"

"I told you that those visions you had when you were sixteen about that man are just something that came from your father. He was just as crazy as you."

"...Goodbye, Mother." You slammed the phone, hanging it up. You just intensely stare at the phone when a hand on your shoulder makes you jump.

"Oh, Bucky!" You turned around, "Sorry, uh... Is something wrong?" You looked up at his eyes; they seemed quite sad. Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, cuddling you while giving you gentle rubs on your back.

You chuckled, looking down on the ground. You should tell him, right? He deserves to know, right? Could he help you? But what if he thinks like they all did?

"I... wanted to tell you something. I just sort of kept it hidden. So, I wouldn't do anything stupid. But, uh... after finding out, you were presumed killed in action. I... took my own life."

You were so fixated on Bucky that you ended your life because you couldn't handle being apart from him.

"I just couldn't handle the ache in my heart. I felt so miserable and lonely."

As you vented your feelings, Bucky kissed your forehead while consoling you, rocking you gently. Something Bucky did to you all the time when you were sad.

"I'm so sorry, Bucky." You wept. Bucky gently let you go and cubbed your face, wiping your tears. "Hey, look at me." He said so soothingly. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I should be asking you for forgiveness for leaving you like this."

You didn't care. All you wanted was him. You never wanted him to leave you again like that. You wanted to forget all those memories of being away from him for so long. That fear you felt when you received the news of his passing.

"You can't scare me like that."

Bucky pulled you in for a hug again, never letting you go, almost like he was scared to lose you. As you melted into his embrace, he lifted his titanium hand onto the back of your head and whispered into your ear.

In his eyes, a chilly storm was brewing as determination consumed him. Bucky won't let you risk hurting yourself. He would have to take things away from you.

Bucky doesn't want to let you go. Ever again. Bucky nuzzled into your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Never."

[a-libra-writes]

Apologies if requests are not open, but could I please have some headcanons (long or short, whichever you prefer) about sleeping in the same bed as Mordecai Heller? Like how long it would take to get to that point and how he sleeps maybe?

Sooo uhhh I went a bit overboard so uhhhh, enjoy this fanfic of the 3 times you and Mordecai slept next to each other. its nearly 4k and also GN reader lets goooooo!

The first time you slept next to each other.

You peeled yourself out of the car, your clothes sticking to the soaked seat just as they stuck to your skin. The rain was unending, beating down on your face and your eyes. The door slammed shut, the sound muffled by the storm. There was no point in pulling your coat over your head. The window shield and passenger window had long been shot out, exposing you and your fellow triggerman to the elements.

With his dark colors and clothes, Mordecai almost disappeared in the night. You felt around the car, trying to make your way to him. You still had to shout over the rain and thunder. "Over there!"

"Where?"

"A house! I'll show you!"

It was so dark, you couldn't figure what Mordecai was doing until he turned on the flashlight. The beam was pathetic against the night and the rain, but it was something. He shone it toward the car so the guns could be retrieved, and a filthy briefcase. You took the latter. Then you pointed off into the distance.

"There, I saw a farmhouse," You said. "Still has a roof, I think."

"You think?"

"Most of it. Come on!" You didn't pull his arm, but you walked on ahead. The flimsy light was only a few inches ahead of your face, even with Mordecai two steps behind, so you walked carefully through the sodden grass and dirt.

The door wasn't locked, but stuck. It groaned painfully as you kicked it open, and the whole house seemed to creak and shudder with your violent movement. You stepped in at once, your body shivering even if it wasn't that cold.

"At least it's not snowing," You said. "Just, ah ... muggy. And humid."

"Anything is better than cold," Mordecai grunted. He peeled his coat off, just as you did, but he was far more bothered by how thoroughly soaked everything was. The house was musty and surely filled with mold, but there was a roof, and a smattering of furniture.

You walked about, surveying the pitiful place. "Stairs aren't worth the risk, but the sitting area works just fine."

Your fellow gunman's green eyes danced around the room. He took it in just as swiftly, and came to an immediate conclusion. By this point, you could knew the way those green eyes glared, his ears flattened and his shoulders hunched. The scowl really sold it, though.

"Obviously, not the couch. Or the chairs. I'm fairly certain there's all sorts of little rat surprises in them -"

"And in the walls," Mordecai said, looking toward the one closest to him. He stepped away. You didn't doubt there were probably dozens - well, maybe hundreds around this place.

"It's just for the night - not even that, a few hours -"

"Absolutely not."

"Mordecai," You tried not to let the exhaustion come across in your voice. "We left St. Louis at the crack of dawn, it's nearly dawn again, we can't see a damn thing in this rain and we're both -"

"I can hear them in the walls, there's probably black mold all over the ceiling, I know there's all manner of - of vermin, raccoons and whatever else -"

"We're both too exhausted to drive, and our windshield is ruined. The storm -"

"-- If you think I'll stay one more minute in this dilapidated excuse for a shack, let alone rest -"

" - I know for a fact you can't drive through this, because last time -"

Your overlapping voices were completely drowned out by a massive clap of thunder. The whole house rattled, and you felt the noise deep in your chest, like a hundred drums. Faintly, you wondered if the roof might come off; but this wasn't a tornado. You could swear you heard scurrying and squeaking under the floors, but didn't bring it up.

"One hour," The exhaustion was there now. You didn't bother to hid it. Just holding your shotgun and the briefcase and soaked coat was proving to be too heavy. "Just one hour, Mordecai. Even if the weather was peachy keen, I can't drive like this."

Mabye you really did look pathetic, or he was finally feeling his own fatigue. The shadowy cat looked just as bad, his clothes soaked and disheveled, nearly all of his hair out of place, his glasses threatening to slip off. He sighed heavily.

"One hour."

You let him determine where the place would be. It was beside the fireplace, a section of the living room that was far away from the couches and rugs, nothing but an empty table beside it. You easily moved it aside, cleared the cobwebs and attempted to dust off the floor with a rag Mordecai found in the kitchen. You both hung your coats up on the rickety stair railings, not thinking for a moment they'd actually dry.

Your gun was still at your side as you sat down, your back against the wall. It was an old habit, keeping it close, even for just a few minutes of shut-eye. You flicked the safety on and laid it across your lap, the muzzle facing away from Mordecai. Eventually, very slowly, he carefully lowered himself beside you. Your head pressed against the wall as you leaned back, closing your eyes and taking a breath.

There was no need to look at him to know he was tense. He was probably stiff as a board, his ears twitching as he looked around, hearing who knows what in the walls and the floorboards. You knew he had a thing about rats, and spiders. You made sure he didn't see the cobwebs.

"Try to sleep," You muttered. "I won't let you nap in the car back to the city."

He scoffed. "You're better worrying about if you'll fall asleep at the wheel."

"I won't, because I'm sleeping. The thing you should try."

You heard him shift his weight. The wet clothes made it easy to perceive, but anything else was difficult. The fatigue was hitting hard, weighing down your eyelids and settling over your sore, cold body. You'd feel stiff and miserable when you woke up, but the storm would be gone. At some point, you may have felt a weight against your shoulder - something wet, and not that heavy, but it was hard to say.

By the time you woke up, that sensation was gone. You awoke with a start, grasping your gun and looking around. It was bright. The sun was leaking through the broken glass windows. Your bleary eyes darted all around, looking for someone - and your heart finally settled when you saw him.

Mordecai put his glasses back on his face. Somehow, he was even more of a mess than before. Maybe it was just easier to see it in the morning light -

"... What time is it?" You asked, your voice hoarse.

"Time to go," Mordecai said. He'd retrieved his coat, as well as your own. The briefcase was in his other hand.

On the way out of the house, you rubbed your shoulder. For whatever reason, you were especially sore there.

The first time you slept in his bed.

For the past few hours, you’d done nothing but look at ceilings. First was the shithole you’d barged into, though looking up at that was better than the angry mug that was looming over you, ready to put a bullet in your head. He would’ve done it, if not for Viktor’s spectacular tackle. Then the ceiling — roof? — of the car. Then … the garage, you thought. It seemed like a garage, but maybe not the one you were most familiar with. Did they take you back to the Lackadaisy? No, the drive was too short … Well, whoever’s ceiling it was, it was leaking. Now this ceiling — simple, clean, blissfully not leaking.

You blinked at it several times, unsure what time it was. Your stomach was churning, your head was hammering. It was hard to tell if you wanted water, or food, or something to put you back asleep. Something itched at your eye — you realized only one was open, strange — and you reached for it.

“Stop that,” A voice. A familiar one that made relief wash over so quickly, it was dizzying. “Don’t fuss with it.”

You tried to say his name, but it was too many vowels. They came out in a jumble. “Where’m …”

“You’re back at the cafe. I just said to stop touching it.” Mordecai scolded. His dark figure came into your blurry vision, reaching for something you couldn’t see. Oh, it was your hand. He put it back on the bed. With your good eye, you scanned your surroundings, even lifting your pouding head. There was a lamp with a soft glow, some kind of dresser-table-thing. That desk looked familiar. You groaned and fell back on the pillow.

“Wha’s th’ damage?”

“Stitches on the side of your head, a black eye, and probably a concussion.” He said. You could see his tail swishing behind him, and it was hard to tell if it was quick agitation or slow annoyance. It was hard to tell with your addled mind.

“Oh.”

“The morphine is wearing off by now.”

“Yeah.”

He turned away, leaving your bedside. No, this wasn’t your bed. You didn’t live in the Little Daisy’s building. You squinted, recognizing that desk and that plant in the corner. You noticed the dark coat hanging on the door.

Oh, this was his bed. For a crazy moment, you thought you were dying. ... No, not dying. He’d just leave you in the car if that was the case. Still, it was strange being here on this bed in this position. Normally you hung around the doorway, or sat by his desk if you wanted to pester him.

“You need… n’ ‘prtment,” You slurred.

“What was that?”

“App- ‘artm’nt… you.” Your finger pointed to him, though it was hard to keep it straight.

Mordecai sighed and turned back to whatever he had been doing. “Go back to sleep. You’re more incomprehensible than usual.”

The words were all jumbled in your mouth, just as much of a jigsaw as the thoughts in your head. You wanted to explain that if there was a couch, you could take that. You could’ve gone to your own home, though recovering alone with an apparent concussion didn’t sound pleasant. Where would he sleep? Was this alright? Would he burn the sheets, or wash them three times then painstakingly get a magnifying glass and tweezers and pick up every strand of hair you left behind?

“What are you smiling about?” He asked, utterly exasperated. You giggled.

“Nothin’. M’ sleepy.”

You rolled over to your good side, and pain immediately shot up the other side of your body. You groaned, clutching the sheets as you waited for it to pass. Mordecai immediately reached for you, anticipating you’d roll right off the bed, but you didn’t. His arm slowly dropped to his side. He waited, watching the smile slowly slide off your lips. Your breathing slowed, and your hand relaxed. You released the sheet. The bandages were still in place, no blood staining them yet. He needed a way to keep you from tossing in your sleep.

Exhausted from both the night’s illicit activities and then the frenzy to get you to an ex-nurse Viktor insisted on, he dragged his desk chair over to his bedside. Your bedside now, maybe. He was trying not to notice the stray hairs on the sheets — his own black ones bothered him enough. He sat down, figuring how he might keep you from turning. If the morphine was still in your system, you might not feel them if you scratched in your sleep or turned too much … He rubbed his eyes and rested his elbows on the edge of the bed.

The bed was always cold when he eventually laid down each night, but it was warm this time. It struck him as unusual, out of place, not part of the routine, but … not bad.

At some point, there was a knock. He may have dreamed it. Mordecai’s whole body tensed, and he flew to his feet, nearly tripping over the chair he was seated in. It teetered, but chose not to clatter to the floor. You were still asleep in the same position, not the slightest disturbed. Then his eyes flew to the actual source of the noise — the young gunman’s body had been running on adrenaline for hours, only relaxing in the past hour — wait, had he fallen asleep? — but it shot back up as he turned on the intruder in the doorway.

Mitzi gasped. She put her hand to her chest, startled by his sudden movements. “Oh — sorry, sweetie. I would have knocked, but …” She glanced over to the bed. “I didn’t want to disturb the two of you.”

Mordecai said nothing, but his face heated painfully from both embarrassment and panic. His heart was still racing, and the distinct, strange agitation he always felt around Atlas’ new bride was crawling up. She was intruding, on multiple accounts. His room, the disheveled state he was in, the state you were in. Something about someone seeing you like this was raising his hackles, even if he was certainly she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Mitzi wasn’t deterred by his glare, fearsome as it was. Her worry was too strong. “It was a close one, wasn’t it?”

“… Not especially,” Mordecai eventually replied. Yes, it was a lot of blood, but that was the nature of head wounds. And yes, it was a metal pipe, and the fact you didn’t get up right away, but — you were here now, sleeping and breathing with all your brains inside. He didn’t like the way her eyes fell on your prone body, full of pity.

“Poor thing. First thing in the morning, I’ll call the doctor —”

“The horse doctor?” Mordecai didn’t even want to say that charlatan’s name. “Absolutely not.”

Mitzi’s perfectly arched eyebrows raised just so. “You’ve already arranged treatment, then?”

“Yes, a friend of Viktor’s. It’s been dealt with, there’s no need to call a charlatan. He’ll just change the bandage and overcharge us on morphine.”

“I see you feel strongly about it,” She said. It was a simple statement that dug at him, and he couldn’t place why. Why did she have to hang around all the time? Why did she care to talk to her husband’s triggermen? Mitzi stopped leaning on the doorway, knowing full well she was unwelcome. “Well, tell me if you need any more pillows, dear — for either of you.”

He could have grit his teeth — he did, but his utterly exhausted and rattled expression completely lost on Mitzi. She’d already turned her back and left, walking with a grace that made her footsteps almost imperceptible … especially when she wasn’t wearing her heels. Mordecai moved the chair back into place, trying to will himself to calm down. You were still blissfully unaware, still in the same place as he left you, before he… dozed off. Granted, it was just his arms and head that were on the bed, but it still bothered the black cat. His heart still wasn’t settling down; he almost felt jittery.

Mordecai thought he was used to all this — the shooting, the running, the close calls. He didn’t understand why the fear was hitting so hard, why now it was all rearing up. Hadn’t there been closer calls? Maybe for himself. Maybe for you — he never asked. It was hard to imagine you getting in a worse scrap than this.

He didn’t want to look at your relaxed sleeping form anymore. It contrasted too sharply with the bruises growing across your face, and the bandages wound tightly around your head. With a sigh, he stood, moved the chair back to his desk and tried to occupy himself with some paperwork. Better to fall asleep here, than the … other option. Even if the other option was much warmer.

The first time he slept in your bed.

Upon returning from the bathroom, you discovered that Mordecai was both dressed and still staring at the bed.

That was a little worrisome. The past hour or two had been … well, a lot. For him, especially. You hadn’t considered what how Mordecai might act after it all happened. You were so focused on helping him through the present, you hadn’t thought that far ahead.

This didn’t seem like an oh-god-what-have-I-done kind of 1000 yard stare, though. You knew this expression. His ears were a little flat, his tail twitched, he was focusing very hard on… something. A specific something. Your partner (could you call him that now?) was trying to problem solve.

You walked over beside him, quickly puzzling what the issue was. You kept brushing your teeth, glancing over to him. Those white eyebrows were totally furrowed in concentration. God, it was like when he’d get worked up over a chess match with Viktor. It was painfully endearing.

You knew he knew that you were standing there. You also knew he was trying to avoid looking at you, even though you were no longer naked. You’d thrown on nightclothes for his sake, assuming he’d do the same … and yup, he did. Finally, with your tail swishing and speaking around your toothbrush, you offered, “It’s alright. Happens a lot.”

Mordecai nearly flinched. “Do .. Do people just … ignore it? You can’t tell me they … sleep on it ..."

“They'll sleep around it, if they notice. Sometimes there’s not a mess, because clothes are in the way, or position, or they aren’t on the bed at —”

His fur was completely standing on edge, his tail puffed out like he’d seen a spider. Mordecai threw a hand up. “Don’t - that’s enough. I don’t need to hear any more. People are repulsive. They’re animals.”

“Mmhm.” Talking around your toothbrush made some toothpaste and spittle run down your chin. Mordecai was mortified. He turned on his heel and walked over to the dresser, where at some point, he’d folded his and your clothes. That was also painfully sweet, and ridiculous. He was getting something out of his coat pocket.

“I’ll get new sheets,” You said.

But first, you went back to the bathroom to spit in the sink, wash off your toothbrush and gargle some water. You spat again, idly rubbing at your chin. Back in the room, Mordecai had already stripped the bedding and was handling it like it was covered in plague. He was obviously mentally debating between leaving it rumpled and tossing it out the window, or folding before the tossing.

You made the decision for him, taking the sheets off his hands. “Clean ones are in the broom closet, down the hall.”

“The one you haven’t dusted in months?”

You had to laugh. “Excuse you, I did it last week. I dusted the bookshelves too, and scrubbed the kitchen tile, and the bathroom — I know how you like things.”

His sharp expression softened. “I noticed,” He said softly, all the prickly anxiety and nerves slowly melting. You wanted to touch him, to express the affection that was building up — no, it was always there, and it was wanting to spill out again. But after the huge chasm you two just jumped over, you wanted to be careful.

While you went to setting aside the dirty laundry, Mordecai brought in the clean sheets and fitted them over the mattress. It was better and neater than you’d ever seen it, like a hotel. You went ahead and changed the pillowcases, even if there was no need, and you felt his eyes on you as you did so.

“All done,” You said. “What do you think? Do you want a clean blanket, too?”

It was a genuine question, not a mocking one. You’d been considerate like that all evening — how is this? Is it okay? Should I stop? Do you need to breath? — and the tall cat was trying to come to terms with it. As much as it bothered him, he had needed to stop, and breath, because sometimes he wasn’t okay. He didn’t know why, and it hadn’t been a problem — well, much of one, before you. But it wasn’t you treating him like a problem, it was himself.

It was difficult, all of this. Rather than thinking any further, he pulled out a hankerchief and cleaned off that damn toothpaste you left.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” He grumbled, but you only smiled.

“Thanks.” You turned off the nightstand lamp and climbed into bed. You knew he’d take some time to join you. If he really lingered, you’d offer to move to the couch, but eventually you felt the bed shift and you felt the covers move. Then his body shifted — you could tell he was facing away from you.

Your brain was telling you to be careful, to slow down, but sometimes it hurt you to stay so far apart. It physically ached to have to linger right on the edge. So you risked it, slowly turning over and moving yourself closer. You pressed your face to his back, lightly, and rested your hand on his side.

Mordecai’s whole body tensed up. His tail froze against your legs, and you watched his ears stick up. You waited. After a few seconds, he slowly settled. You pulled your hand away, and you watched the outline of his body relax.

You wanted to say something. He did good. Great, even. He tried hard, for your sake, to overcome a great mental hurdle. You knew that, and you ought to be more respectful of his space. He’d already given so much to you. So rather than wrap him up and overwhelm him with all the kisses and touches and affection you had, you stayed there, your tail gently brushing against his.

“Thank you,” Your voice said quietly, barely disrupting the darkness. Some moonlight was peaking through the blinds, just enough for you to make out Mordecai’s dark silhouette. “We don’t have to … you know, anytime soon. Or ever, if you want. I’ll — regardless, it won’t change my feelings. I like being close to you.”

It was maybe a fraction of how you truly felt. That physical ache was back, but you had to stop here. You weren’t ready to say it all, not yet. There wasn’t an immediate response, and you didn’t expect one. You listened to his steady breathing, feeling solace in it.

Mordecai reached behind him, carefully taking your arm and putting it back over his middle. You pulled him in, just so, nestling your body against his. He didn’t flinch, even as your legs brushed each other and you pressed your face against his warm back, taking in a deep breath. Of course he’d immediately showered right after, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. He smelled like your soap.

[nina-ya]

Heyyyyy Nina! Lemme just say, I see your bassist!Law. And I’d like to present you with the idea: reader from a rival punk band writing a ‘passive’ aggressive song about him before they end up hooking up and realize ‘actually wait he’s not so bad aw shit’

hgghnnnn thank you so much for entertaining my silly thought!!! and i do apologize for getting back to this a late but dlfksj im here now!!! and i kinda went overboard with my response!! sdlksjd

The tension!!! I can just imagine you're up on stage with your band, belting out the lyrics of your latest song which of course a thinly veiled jab at that bassist from the rival band who's been a thorn in your side for months.

The song is a way of venting all the frustrations you've felt every time you see that stupid smirk on his face. The lyrics are sharp, full of sarcasm and digs and the crowd loves it. And as you step off stage, sweat still clinging to your skin, you grab a towel to wipe your face and head backstage for a well-deserved drink. The excitement and buzz of the performance have you on a high.

And that high comes crashing down the moment you spot him, Law, chatting to someone backstage. Your stomach twists in irritation at the sight of him, and when he spots you and flashes you a lazy grin, that irritation seems to only heighten. You'd bicker with him immediately, asking why he's even there at the performance, and little did you know, one of your bandmates actually invited him.

You're expecting him to match your energy and throw quips and snarky remarks at you as well, but he instead complements the song. "Nice performance," he says, his voice smooth and surprisingly sincere. "You really know how to work a crowd."

And you can't help but just blink at him, thrown off by the compliment. This isn't the Law you're used to- the one who always has a sarcastic remark ready to go. You reply with a cautious "thanks," not knowing where this is going.

"Didn't realize I got under your skin that much," he says with a chuckle, nodding towards the stage where your band had just performed. "That song was... something."

Ah there it is. There's the old Law coming out to play. Your cheeks burn with annoyance and embarrassment as you respond, "Well, you do have a knack for being a pain in the ass," you shoot back, but there's less bite in your voice than usual.

He smirks, stepping closer, the sudden proximity making your pulse race. "Maybe we should talk about that." He glances around until his eyes land on a room with the word 'utilities' on it. You follow his gaze and spot the room as well, your mind already trying to guess what he's thinking.

"Talk?" you scoff, though your voice wavers slightly. "I don't think there's much to say."

"Maybe not," he admits. In a bold move, he reaches out and grabs you by the wrist, leading you to the utility closet he spotted earlier. He leans in slightly, murmuring to you "but I think there's a lot we could do.

"You're full of yourself," you mutter, but tone lacks conviction.

He rolls his eyes at you, smirking as he opens the door to the utility closet, pulling you inside. As if your bodies are being pulled together, you suddenly find yourselves locked in a harsh and demanding kiss. You feel yourself being pushed up against the wall, hands wandering under each other's clothes as you both get lost in each other. Who knows, maybe Law isn't so bad after all?

[pleasantviewrainfall111]

Did I go absolutely overboard here? Yes. This was meant to be a tiny little thing where Harley asks her not-quite-boyfriend to hook Hannah and the man of her dreams up but it somehow turned into...this. Oh well! Have some Harley backstory - the only bit you're likely to get, lol - while I prepare the next part. (Which will most likely be much less dialogue and more silent story telling because typesetting is driving me up a wall, haha.) (Previous/Next)

Transkript:

Harley: …so, can you please help me out here? Just once?

Yuki: But she said she didn’t-

Harley: I know what she said, but she probably thought I’d rock up to you at school and tell him to go on a date with her so she can stop creeping on him. Hannah doesn’t know that you and I are…

Yuki: Fucking?

Harley: *chokes on air and starts coughing*

Yuki: Holy shit, are you okay?

Harley: *still coughing* Yeah, I’m fine, I’m okay, I just didn’t expect… you to put it like that.

Yuki: No? How am I supposed to put it, then? I’m always open for suggestions.

Harley: No, yeah, fucking is fine, it’s-

Ms. Smith: Harley, honey!? Are you alright, that was quite the cough?

Yuki: Shit.

Harley: Shit, yeah! Yeah, auntie, I’m fine! I drank some water and it went down the wrong pipe, I’m alright!

Ms. Smith: Ouff, yeah, I can hear that. Your voice sounds rough, honey. Want me to rub your back for a minute? maybe that’ll help?

Harley: No! I’m fine, I’m changing, please don’t come in!

Ms. Smith: Alright, alright, I won’t! Do you need something from the Konbini then, I still need to get cat food for Shishamo and Saba.

Harley: Nope, I’m good, thank you!

Yuki and Harley wait for a moment, until her aunts’ steps turn silent.

Harley: Holy fuck, that was close.

Yuki: It’d be much easier if we told her I’m here.

Harley: Sure, that’s a sound plan. Will you help me back my bags straight after? Because she’ll ship me straight back to my parents’ place if she knew.

Yuki: And would that be so bad? You’re close to them, aren’t you?

Harley: Well, duh. My parents are great. Strangetown, though? Not so much.

Yuki: Why, what’s wrong with it?

Harley: It’s literally called Strangetown, Yuki.

Yuki: Could be worse, if that is all that’s wrong with it.

Harley: It’s…*sighs* It’s this shitty town in the middle of the desert of buttfuck nowhere. And no one stays, unless they’re super weird.

Yuki: I’ve never been to a desert. What’s it like…?

Harley: Hot. Dry. Dusty. Desolate.

Yuki: Ah, so that’s where your attitude comes from.

Harley: Hardy-Har-Har. Very funny.

Yuki: Here to entertain. So, you don’t want to go back because you don’t like the desert?

Harley: I…no. I mean, yes, but also no. I don’t want to go back because…I guess I don’t like living with my parents.

Yuki: I thought your parents are great?

Harley: They are. I love my parents, I do, but I don’t like living with them. Does that make sense?

Yuki: I don’t know, tell me more.

Harley: It’s just…my dad and gran live in this tiny arse single wide where I barely have space to breathe and my mum runs the hotel, which means I may have a lot of space but it never really feels like…like a home.

Yuki: That I can understand. My home doesn’t feel like one either. But my parents aren’t great either.

Harley: No? Why not?

Yuki: That’s a really long story, Buta.

Harley waits for more, but nothing follows.

Harley: No, come on. You can’t make me spill my heart and then not retaliate, that’s against the code of heart to hearts, man.

Yuki: It’s not my fault you’re easy to spill.

Harley: Are you kidding? Not even Hannah knows most of what I just told you.

Yuki: Maybe she should learn to stare less and listen more, then.

Harley: She doesn’t stare.

Yuki: She stares all the time. Gédéon and Trevor may not notice, but I do.

Harley: Shut up, seriously. Hannah is great. A little obsessed with Gédéon but great nonetheless. Which actually brings me back…

Yuki: *sighs* Fine, I’ll help.

[marshallpupfan]

Just Talkin'

I've got a desk in my room that's right next to a vent on the wall. Said vent is how heat gets in my room when the furnace is on. The desk is mostly covering it up, which I didn't mind during the summer since we weren't using it. Well, it's starting to get colder here in Indiana, so we might start using the furnace again soon enough. I suppose I could just leave it, but it's not the best idea to have a wooden desk next to a source of heat like that. I'll need to move it soon.

Why am I talking about this, of all things? Well, if I want to keep my desk, I have to pretty much rearrange my whole room. I'm going to have to swap everything around, which means putting my desk, bed, etc. on the opposite side of the wall, and...

...swapping it with my Marshall collection. Yeah... I have to remove practically everything off the shelves, put them somewhere safe and hope the more fragile objects don't get broken, carefully move the display case and bookshelves, remove/transfer the wall shelves, put everything back on the shelves once I'm done, etc.

It's... a lot of work, to say the least.

I believe I've admitted this before, but when I first started collecting Marshall merchandise, I legitimately had no idea that they made so much of one single character. And as crazy as it may seem, there's still a bunch of merchandise I don't even own. Seriously, Japan practically comes out with a new plush doll every other month! How I wish I had the budget to go crazy and buy all the new Marshall dolls they keep making. Shipping them to the USA means I might have to pay about $50 for each of them, and my budget's not that big...

I love my collection, and truth be told, I have no regrets... but I still sometimes wonder if I maybe should've collected a little less. If I had, it wouldn't be such a pain to move and dust everything. lol

Oh yeah, I was going through some pictures on my computer the other day and I happened to stumble upon this. Believe it or not, this was my entire Marshall collection at one point. Ah, the simpler days... before I went overboard and had to buy a large display case and some extra bookshelves to house it all. 😅

I guess I should get started soon. Maybe I'll post an update of my collection once I've finished. That... won't be for a while though, trust me. I've certainly got my work cut out for me here!