#me not shutting the fuck for a considerable amount of time is not normal

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist. ��҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on. 

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish. 

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy. 

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands). 

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding. 

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.” 

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all. 

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t. 

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world. 

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about. 

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease. 

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do. 

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind. 

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.” 

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused. 

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves. 

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop. 

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening. 

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[giri-giri-waifu]

This is a long post--

Listened to my friend compare me to his guy friends; how I'm 'more mature' than them, even though I'm younger than them. And he did the spiel of 'girls mature faster than guys' and also saying how they're all awkward shut ins and irresponsible and going nowhere in life. And at least one of em has really bad anxiety that hinders him in doing 'regular things in society'... And I was just thinking like... Im not any better. I might be better at hiding that Im Like That. I still live with my parent at 26, going on 27. I have anxiety over shit every single day and have to work really hard to 'get up and do the responsible thing'- like being an adult and going to work and not having breakdowns in the bathroom, etc. My job causes me a considerable amount of stress and I wish I could simply quit. Even going out with friends causes me anxiety sometimes. It sucks and I feel so guilty if I cancel on people last minute. I have to make notes for EVERYTHING, set multiple alarms and reminders for stuff, otherwise I WILL forget within 5-10 minutes, both for work and my everyday life. Like I dont understand how people turn up their noses at shut-ins, like "omg can u believe. they have so many problems existing in society. Ugh! What an inconvenience to me!!' I hate this. I hate the grind. Call it laziness or whatever, but fuck this society where we have to grind or die. That in and of itself is tiring- add to it that so many people are suffering with mental and or physical illnesses and disabilities, in a world that is not built to accommodate them- a whole new level of tiredness. Like congrats if you don't have to take a bunch of extra steps to do One Regular Adult Task. But Stop being holier than thou about 'shut ins' or other people that don't fall within the 'normal'. lol And please don't fucking compare stupid shit like 'girls mature faster than guys'- I am afab and the oldest sibling, and even as a child, always had to conform to that 'you need to be the responsible one and take care of x,y and z duties. Oh and don't ever fuck up. Why are you so shy and quiet? You should be more responsible than this tsk tsk!' I am STILL a people pleaser because of this shit. And its unhealthy and annoying. lol Yes most of the time, I am physically capable of adulting, but fuck if my mental health hasnt been in the fucking garbage buried underground for years because im trying to hold up this 'responsible' persona that I've had drilled into me since birth. Please just stop. lol

[navegandoaciegas]

Crybaby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (College AU)

Warnings: smut, ass fingering, orgasm denial, humiliation, lots of talks about panties.

Summary: You catch Bucky trying to steal your panties on laundry day.

A/N: this is partly @buckycuddlebuddy​ ‘s fault tbh. Enjoy some desperate, horny Bucky. Minors DNI.

The timer on the dryer unit you’d occupied went off, signaling that your weekly load of laundry was dry and ready. Bucky cast a nervous glance around the eerily empty room, fingers twitching in the front pocket of his hoodie.

He knew it was wrong, but his laundry was done too (just a coincidence, really, not like he’d wake up at 3 am on a Monday because he knew you did your washing around that time), and you weren’t there yet. You usually retrieved your load in the morning anyways.

Just a peek, he reasoned. Out of curiosity. You wouldn’t even realize they were missing, and if you did you’d chalk it up to the washing machine eating your clothes.

You’d show up to class on Tuesday and sit next to him while he’d be wearing your pretty lace panties and you’d be none the wiser.

Fuck, he was getting hard just thinking about it.

He dug in your laundry, sifting through mascara stained washcloths and an endless amount of oversized t-shirts, until he found what he’d been looking for.

Small, so tiny in fact that he wondered how your lips could fit in them. He groaned -the idea of your pussy hanging out of the material made his cock twitch, and brought the panties to his face, rubbing his nose all over the lace. He’d fantasized of burying his face between your legs all semester long, and this seemed close enough, the closest he could get to you anyways.

They seemed stretchy, and he hoped he could manage to stuff himself inside them.

“Didn’t peg you for a panty sniffer, Barnes.”

The world stilled around him, the ring in his ears so loud that he wondered if you could hear it too.

He was so engrossed in his creeping, that he hadn’t heard the door open and click shut, nor your steps as you walked behind him, or the slight groan that the washing machine behind him emitted when you settled on it, swinging your legs.

Slowly, he turned around, your lace panties still tightly clutched to his chest.

You almost chuckled at the sight of his bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Almost.

“That- it’s not- not how it looks like- I-”

“What, you were gonna fold my laundry for me? How considerate,” you sneered, but the look on your face was far from disgust.

Derision, sure, but not disgust. The mischievous interest in your eyes sent chills down his spine, not necessarily the good kind.

He felt dread settle in his stomach, anticipating whatever consequence his actions would have.

“You do this often?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, naked legs still swinging over the washing machine.

Bucky couldn’t find the words, and honestly the gall, to speak, so he just shook his head vehemently, shuffling on his feet.

“Hm, you like sniffing ‘em?”

He remained unmoving, too humiliated to do anything.

“Oh, I got it,” you beamed, pointing a finger at him and squinting your eyes, “You like touching yourself with pretty panties, hm? Like using them to fuck your dick, and cum all over ‘em?”

He wanted to answer, tell you to fuck off and sprint away to hide in his dorm for the rest of his life, but honestly he deserved this and so much worse. He almost considered dropping out of college entirely, but that glint in your eyes kept him anchored to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, keeping his gaze on his white sneakers, “I-, I promise, I never done it before, I don’t know why-, look I won’t do it again, I swear,” he pleaded, tears pooling in his crystal eyes and threatening to stream down his face.

You cooed, honest to God coeed, a mocking pout on your lips.

You should have left, and reported him, but those pretty tears of his, the tremble in his voice, the stuttered pleas, only served to spur you on, a familiar warmth building up in your core.

“I bet if word got out of this, no one would want to hang around the resident creep anymore. Good luck getting girls then. Although, well, I don’t think you get too many under normal circumstances, do you?” you snorted, “That would be embarrassing, hm? Wouldn’t want that, would you?”

He found himself shaking his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat to avoid giving you any more reason to mock him.

“It’s your lucky day then, because I have no intention to tell anyone,” you announced, stepping down to lean against the machine, arms crossed over your stomach.

“You- you don’t?” he wondered.

The notion should have elated him, but he felt himself growing more uneasy and confused with the smirk on your face.

“Won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Cross my heart,” you laughed, making a show of placing a hand on your chest.

He eyed you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Where’s the fun in that, Barnes? I wouldn’t enjoy bullying you if I’m not the only one doing it,” you chirped, “That doesn’t mean that my forgiveness should come for free, tho.”

His breath hitched, and you followed his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down his throat.

You could feel the control in your grasp, panties getting wetter with each one of his tears.

“I’ll do anything,” he swore, and you almost wished he’d fall on his knees and beg.

“Anything you say, huh?” you paused, “Strip,” you commanded, leaning back against the washing machine.

Bucky furrowed his brows and looked up in confusion, then disbelief, finally embarrassment. “Wh- what? But, but what if someone sees, I-”

“Then you better hurry.”

“But I-”

“You fuckin’ heard me the first time.”

He was startled into action, hands hastily pulling at his hoodie and jeans until he was standing in nothing but socks and underwear.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself again.”

He gulped visibly, and hesitated before hooking his fingers around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs.

He blushed harder, ducking his head.

His cock sprung out of his boxers, and the mouthwatering sight of it had you reconsidering Bucky Barnes and all your life choices during this semester.

He was glistening in pre cum, painfully hard and veiny, and definitely thick enough that fitting it inside your cunt would be hard work on both parts. You imagined taking him in your mouth, how you would definitely choke around his girth, and your jaw would be sore for days.

Not today, though. Bad boys did not get that kind of privilege.

You bit your lips, and Bucky fought the impulse to squirm under your intense gaze.

“Something wrong?” he rasped out, praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole in case you found him too small, too crooked, too hairy.

You snorted, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Yeah, babe, the fact that I haven’t seen you naked before. You been hiding all this,” you eyed his crotch suggestively, “from me all this time?”

“T- thanks,” he stuttered, offering you a small smile, eyes trained on the ground. He tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered when you called him an endearing term, reminding himself that this was all a game to you, a game that he was more than willing to play if it ended up with his cock buried deep inside you.

You sighed then, pondering your thoughts. He was not your usual type, but he was cute in a nerdy way, shy and quiet, and he was packing more than any other man you’d had before.

Plus, this was way too entertaining for you to pass up.

“Wear ‘em.”

Bucky’s head snapped up at the command, but this time he did not hesitate to follow your instructions, a bit too eager as he slid the panties up his thighs.

The shutter of your phone’s camera brought him out of his thoughts, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw you take pictures of him. He trusted you wouldn’t spread them around, but the thrill of danger had him leak more pre cum, wetting a patch on the lace.

“So that’s your deal? You like wearing panties? Didn’t even try to act like you didn’t want to,” you snickered, “What a whore.”

The situation couldn’t get more humiliating, and he couldn’t get more desperate for you.

“Be a good boy, Bucky. Fold the laundry for me, since that’s clearly what you meant to do,” you laughed scornfully, nodding to the basket at your feet.

He walked to you slowly, bending over to pick it up, and yelped when you slapped his ass harshly, the sound bouncing off the walls and shooting straight to his aching cock.

“Cute. Now go, you got something to do and I don’t have all night.”

He sighed, and got to work, unloading each item from the dryer, and folding it neatly.

You eyed the lines of his back, the round globes of his ass, the string of your thong dipping between his cheeks. You almost lost yourself imagining how pretty he would look all scratched and marked before you furrowed your brows, observing the way he folded on of your nicer shirts that you wore on interviews and internships.

“Can’t even fold laundry, look at you,” you tsked, shaking your head, “Try that again, I don’t want to spend more than necessary ironing it.”

He obeyed, without any protest, smoothing the creases he’d created, and continuing with your load, until the dryer was empty and you were satisfied.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praised, beckoning him over.

He got closer, close enough that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He looked so pretty like that, all teary and obedient.

You wanted to make him yours and ruin him for everybody else.

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert, you know that? A creep and a pervert.”

You saw the way his cock twitched behind your lace at the words, and almost doubled over in laughter.

The night couldn’t get any better.

“Fuck, you really are a pervert. This what you get off to? You imagine me calling you names, degrading you like the bitch you are? You want to be humiliated, don’t you?”

A desperate, pathetic whine escaped his throat, and he felt his knees growing weak with need. He was naked in a public space where everyone could see him, being belittled and humiliated by the girl he’d been pining over, and he was hard as a rock, getting off every word that spilled out of your mouth.

“Well,” you purred, fisting the hair at the back of his neck and tugging harshly, “I think we can arrange that.”

“Yes, yes, please, I want it,” he whimpered, chest heaving, “I want you, I’m your slut, I-, you can do whatever you want to me.”

You almost moaned then, intoxicated by his burning desire.

“Good boy,” you hummed, releasing his hair to stroke his cheekbone, smiling at the way he leaned his head against your palm, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Remember you can tell me to stop or slow down whenever you want, and I will. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” you added more serious, observing his face for any trace of anything but enthusiasm.

When you found none, and he nodded feverishly, you let your hand fall from his cheek to his shoulder, tracing the outlines of his lean muscle.

“Can- can you kiss me, please?” he asked, and he begged so prettily that you could do nothing but humor him, crashing your lips against his.

It was messy, rough. He was sloppy, and from the way he moved against you, you guessed he didn’t have too much experience.

Better, you reasoned. You’d teach him all he needed to know to please you, and you only.

You bit on his bottom lip, and Bucky yelped in surprise, parting his lips.

He tasted like mint on your tongue, and you sighed in content, letting your hands travel down his sides, barely grazing his skin, scratching the hair on his belly.

He shuddered under your touch, goosebumps erupting in your wake.

When you reached his lower stomach, you felt him tense, his breathing getting harder, his tongue more insistent.

He was drooling and crying, you realized, as he snapped his hips against your leg, humping you like a dog.

You broke away from the kiss, catching your breath.

“Look at you, you gettin’ real worked up and I barely even touched you. What are you, a fuckin’ virgin?” you chuckled, playing with the little bow on the front of your panties.

You’d expected him to laugh, or deny, but he just stood there awkwardly, avoiding your gaze,

“I’m not,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Then why are you acting like one?” you prodded, but didn’t wait for him to answer, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss.

His hesitant hands groped your breasts, finally gaining the confidence to do more than linger awkwardly on your hips. He twirled your stiff nipples, rubbing his thumbs over them, movements getting more frenzied the closer he got to his release.

He crouched awkwardly to be at your chest level while still pressing his hips onto you, and tugged your loose tank top down, moaning at the sight of your tits.

“Go on baby, suck on my tits.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement to assault your nipples, latching his mouth onto one of them, and suckling. You wondered if he’d ever even touched a pair of boobs before, but his ministrations were working either way, making your walls clamp down on nothing.

You finally grasped him in your hand, his cock heavy and throbbing in your palm as you stroked him lazily, spurred on by his little whimpers.

His whole body quivered when you ran your thumb over his slit, and you marvelled at his sensitivity.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?” you moaned in his ear, “I bet you do, I bet you could cum already just from this. Just a handjob, like the pathetic little boy you are, hm?”

He released your tits with a wet pop, and rose to full height again, resting his forehead on yours.

“Yes, yes, please,” he sobbed, “please, princess, more.”

You complied, doubling your efforts. He inhaled sharply when you added your other hand and began twisting both your wrists in opposite directions.

“You want your princess to suck your dick, baby? Want me to get on my knees and take you in my mouth?”

He nodded against you, grinding his hard cock against your hand, desperate to chase his release.

“Or maybe you want your princess’ pretty pussy? You want to fill me with your fat cock and stuff me full of your filthy cum, don’t you?”

He began blabbering, breathing harder, sloppily snapping his hips. He had a look of pure bliss on his face, his eyes shut tightly, mouth hung open and a layer of sweat coating his forehead.

You could feel him grow and throb in your hand, and just before he was about to reach his high, you stopped your hands.

His eyes shot open and he opened and closed his mouth to protest, but you gave him no time, fisting his hair and slamming him against the washer, bending him over the cold surface.

“What, you thought I’d catch you stealing my panties and I’d let that go?” you tutted, bending over him, pressing your front to his back, whispering in his ear “Bad boys need to be punished, don’t you agree?”

A choking sound escaped his parted lips, and you giggled against his skin, licking a strip behind his neck.

You let your hands wander down the expanse of his back, settling on the waistband of your panties. You indulged yourself again, slapping his ass because you liked how it jiggled and how Bucky whined.

“You have a nice ass, you know,” you mused, slouching back to get a good vision of it, “You ever had anyone stick anything up there?”

“W-what?” he sputtered, crooning his head to look at you, “N-no, never.”

“Cute.”

He squirmed in embarrassment when you spread his cheeks, groaning when he felt your spit drip down on him. You massaged a finger around his rim, your hand coated in your spit and his pre cum.

“Relax, I’ll make you feel really good, promise.”

You gradually felt his muscles relax under your touch as you soothingly ran a hand down his back and kept whispering calming, sweet nothings in his ear.

Then, you dipped a finger past the rim.

“See, not that bad, huh?” you smiled, working your finger inside him, caressing his walls.

You nipped the skin of his back, peppering his muscles with fluttering kisses, grazing your teeth over his column.

You dipped another in, and Bucky hissed, wiggling his legs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you shushed him, “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

He preened under your praise, and you began scissoring your fingers inside his ass, working him open and looking for the spot you knew would make him beg for more.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your pussy desperate to be stuffed full of his cock.

You loved how pliant Bucky was being, obedient and submissive in your grasp. You noticed the tears that hadn’t stopped streaming down his face, and huffed a laugh.

“A pervert, a slut, and a fuckin’ crybaby, aren’t you?” you mumbled, a genuine smile tugging at your lips.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, holding onto the washing machine for dear life, tongue lolling out of his mouth, drool dripping down his chin, making it known that you’d found what you’d been looking for.

“Yes, fuck, please princess, gimme more,” he begged, overwhelmed with a pleasure like he’d never experienced before.

He felt like a fire had been lit in his lower belly, and it was spreading to every limb, encompassing him whole.

You grasped his cock in one of your hands while your fingers kept pummeling into his ass, feeling the rim clench around you and his cock pulsate.

You thought you could cum from his beautiful sounds alone, and you kept going until you were sure he was on the verge of a mind shattering orgasm.

Then, you stopped again, and this time Bucky sobbed, blabbering and wailing, begging you.

“Please princess, I’ll do anything, just please let me cum, please, please,” he continued, shamelessly bucking his hips against nothing.

You released his cock and pulled your fingers out of his ass, cleaning the fluids against his panties.

“You’re so fuckin’ pathetic, begging like that,” you mocked him, retrieving your phone from the pocket of your shorts.

You snapped a couple of photos of him bent over the washing machine, pent up and debauched. His balls hung from the lace of your panties, and you made sure to zero on his tear stained face.

“So pretty, my pretty crybaby,” you cooed, helping him stand up again.

He fell on his knees, clutching the hem of your t-shirt.

“Please, you can’t leave me like this, I-, please,” he blabbered.

You committed the image to memory, knowing you’d see it again soon.

You could see it in his eyes how hooked he was to you.

“Baby, bad boys don’t get to cum, do they? You can’t go around stealing people’s laundry,” you tutted, lightly slapping his cheek, “You deserve some punishment, don’t you agree?”

He hesitantly nodded, slumping down on his shins. You grasped his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze.

“You got to bed now, no touching, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll know if you disobeyed, and trust me, you don’t want to know what’s gonna happen if you did.”

You smiled, and took a few steps back to retrieve your basket, leaving him to catch his breath on the floor.

“See you tomorrow at 4 pm, you know where my dorm is,” you chirped despite your own neglected arousal, sauntering to the door, “Get dressed before someone comes in, you wouldn’t want to see how much of a pervert you are, right?”

He shook his head, agreeing with you despite the sobs that silently shook through his body.

“Good boy,” you purred, hand twisting the knob. You paused, and threw him a look over yourself, “Oh, and thank you for the laundry.”

-

I hope you liked this! Please leave some feedback if you can! ❤️

[mrs-gucci]

Subliminal Pleasures {anesthesiologist!Kylo Ren x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! thanks to my good friend @safarigirlsp​, I finally wrote my first darkfic. thanks for ruining me a little bit, Shannon! ;) I’ll warn you now, this is honestly the darkest thing I’ve ever written before, and at first I was a little nervous, but I’m surprisingly pleased with how it turned out. and hey, it’s called fanFICTION for a reason, right? 

**THIS IS A DARKFIC THAT CONTAINS DARK THEMES/CONTENT!! please read the warnings and tw’s before proceeding!!**

warnings: smut. non-existent medical practice ethics. kylo’s a bad doctor, but damn, he looks good doing it. mentions of a medical procedure. some fingering. light dirty talk. masturbation. praise.

tw’s: noncon (but it’s not unpleasant, if that makes sense?). somnophilia.

word count: a touch over 2k

When you came into the hospital today for your dental surgery, no makeup and clad in baggy sweats, you weren’t prepared to meet anyone even remotely interesting or attractive, much less the anesthesiologist. 

And, when he walked into the room, your heart immediately skipped a beat, maybe even two.

He was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen before. Handsome seemed like an insult and injustice to his beauty when it came to the broad, raven-haired god. He wore a very stern expression as he sat over in the corner of the room in a stool much too small for his great size, gathering his tools. 

“Hmm,” His eyes scan the file. “Miss Y/N?”

You nod over at him.

“That’s me.”

He turns back to preparing himself for surgery. “I’m Dr. Ren, the anesthesiologist.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Ren.”

A silence stretched between the two of you, the only sounds coming from his movements or your adjusting positions on the paper-covered seat. Then, he speaks again, voice even deeper and somewhat huskier than before. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“Have you ever previously been put under for a medical procedure, or otherwise?”

“I have.” You reply. “Although I didn’t think that I’d need it for this type of procedure?”

He turns around in the stool, a small smirk on his expression.

“Would you like to be awake when your teeth are hammered into pieces and pulled from your mouth?”

Normally, you would’ve laughed at this joking question, but his delivery and sinister demeanor chilled you to the bone.  “N-No, not really.”

“Then you’ll be put under.” He simply states, pulling on a pair of latex gloves before handing you a fabric gown. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Strip and put this on. The snaps should be on your left shoulder, otherwise you’ve put it on incorrectly.”

Looking into his eyes takes your breath away, out of captivation or a bit of fear, you were unsure. He holds onto the gown a bit too long before releasing his grip, eyes lingering over your face before walking out of the room with commanding footsteps.

Despite his chilling intensity and seemingly emotionless demeanor, you still found yourself incredibly attracted to him. There was something...magnetic about him, like the mysterious aura surrounding him draws you in. The warm tingle between your thighs was undeniable as you stood and removed your clothes, tucking them in your bag off to the side before slipping the gown on over your mostly nude body.

Dr. Ren comes back in as soon as you lay back on the chair once again, his timing impeccable. He puts on a surgical mask and rolls the equipment over on a small cart, parking it next to your head.

“We’ll put you under now.”

“W-What?” Your eyes widen. “But the doctor hasn’t even come in yet.”

He glares down at you.

“Must I remind you who the medical professional in the room is?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head, lips pursing as your eyes dart away.

The mask is placed over your nose and mouth.

“Breathe in and out deeply, count to ten.”

Your eyelids grow heavy almost immediately as you begin taking deep breaths, letting the invisible medication into your lungs. 

“One...two...three...four...five...s-six...sev-seven...eigh...t...”

Kylo grins when you’re finally under, body limp as you sleep peacefully under his influence. He loved his job, loved having complete control over someone’s consciousness, loved having the power between life and death.

His cock hardens in his pants as he reclines the chair so that you’re now laying flat. You don’t move a muscle, and he quickly removes his latex gloves along with his mask, tossing them into the bin.

He’s never had a patient like you before, so beautiful, so docile and obedient, so...seemingly innocent. He wants nothing more and would take great pleasure in absolutely ruining you, turning you into his pretty little slut.

The doctor wasn’t even here yet, as you were his first surgery patient today, but Kylo knew without doubt that he needed time alone with you. He needed to have his way with you.

With one last flicker to the locked door, he brings his hand down beneath his trousers and wraps it around his hardened cock, groaning under his breath with the first pump. Your vitals are stable as his other hand begins popping the snaps of your medical gown.

He pulls it open and lets it hang down over the side of the table, exposing your body to him. All you’re wearing is your undergarments, and yet, Kylo’s length pulses in his hand at the sight. You’re truly a sight to behold, even with your intimate areas covered.

You squirm just a bit when the doctor’s large hand grazes over your ankle, but he knows he won’t wake you, not completely anyways. His hand trails up over your calf, then over your thigh, climbing until he reaches the underwire of your flimsy bra. 

There’s not enough time to remove it, to expose your pebbled nipples to his hungry gaze, but he spreads his large hand over the mound, squeezing it gently. In your unconscious state, your back arches slightly and a soft sigh escapes your lips under his touch. 

His hand pumps his cock faster as he bends down and presses a few kisses to the fabric over your nipple, walking around to give your other breast a similar treatment. Then, he walks to the foot of the table and mounts it, kneeling between your legs. 

Both his hands spread out on your inner thighs, gently spreading them apart before tracing his thick, calloused digits across the crotch of your panties. You squirm again, hips subconsciously rocking up to meet his touch.

“That’s a good girl.” He purrs, rubbing small, lazy circles on your clit over the fabric. “Even like this, you still want it. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

Kylo dips his fingers beneath your panties, cock twitching under his pants as his fingers swipe through the considerable amount of slick there. He finds your clit, rubbing it gently, enough to stimulate but not disturb you.

“Look at this...you’re absolutely soaked for me, little dove, and you don’t even know it.”

His hands grip your hips and lift them up as he slides your panties down, revealing the glistening treasure that lay below. He lines a single finger up with your entrance, then pushes it in, growling softly when your cunt clenches.

You stir just a bit, but not nearly enough for him to worry. He lifts his digit up inside you, enjoying the way your hips suddenly jerk as he rubs over the spongy surface of that special spot. Then, he pushes another one of his fingers inside of you, hearing a soft whine from beneath the mask.  

He begins fingering you gently, just enough to prepare you, making sure not to force you back into consciousness. Soon, it became too much for him, and he pulled his digits out gently, observing the slick that coats the two fingers. He brings them up and takes a quick whiff, cupping his clothed erection and squeezing as his tongue pokes out to lick some of the substance off, hips bucking forward at the semi-sweet taste.

“Oh, little one, you’ve got such a tight little pussy. And you taste so good, just as I knew you would.”

The young doctor wipes the rest off on the paper below, then makes quick work of his pants and underwear, pulling them down just enough to expose his aching length. It bobs in response, desperate for attention as another bead of precum forms over the slit. His finger spreads the semi-transparent substance over the fat mushroom head, groaning breathily. 

After giving his thick length a few strokes, he brings it down to rub through your slick. They buck forward out of instinct when he slides over your puckered entrance, wanting so badly to be buried inside of you. 

His body leans over you, one hand next to your head as the other lines himself up, aiding in direction as he presses his hips forward, burying himself inside your wet welcoming walls. His eyes flutter shut as he bottoms out, but quickly snap open when you moan.

Luckily, you hadn’t woken up with his intrusion, and he takes a long sigh of relief before drawing back and pressing forward again slowly. The table trembles on its legs, bolts creaking as he fucks you steadily but gently, extra cautious of your vital signs and level of alertness.

Part of him wishes that you were awake, that you could see what he was doing to you and enjoy him, but the feeling of knowing that even unconsciously, you were still wet and tight for him was one too good to resist. It was all so arousing; an ego feeding greater than his regular days work could ever offer.

Your face scrunches in pleasure with more rolls of his hips, moaning and whimpering each time he buries himself inside you. They’re all so gentle, your noises, and Kylo finds himself lost in each quiet breath.

“Good girl--fuck--oh, good girl.” He says quietly, using every bit of his willpower to keep from pounding into you. “Such a good little cunt, taking my cock so well.”

You tighten around him, then, and he growls, fists clenching next to your head. His teeth grind together as he picks up the pace ever so slightly, feeling his climax approaching quickly.

“T-That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

His head hangs, eyes squeezing shut. He’s close, now, and his own noises get a little bit louder and a lot more frequent as his balls begin to pull and tighten.

“Gonna cum, little dove, you’re g-gonna make me cum so hard with this tight pussy.”

Unbenounced to him, you wake up slightly, eyes opening just a crack. You see him on top of you, body flexing with each thrust, and you feel the obvious intrusion in your lower half. You’re surprisingly not bothered by it, nor do you feel uncomfortable with it. Before you can think on it further, you slip back into the blackness.

He can’t cum inside you, he knows that, so just as he teeters on orgasm, he pulls out as gently as he can and drags his pulsing cock against your lower stomach as thick white ropes paint your soft skin.

“O-Oh y-yes...so good, d-dove.”

Kylo takes himself through orgasm and right into oversensitivity, pulling away and sitting up when this happens. His length softens, the extra skin re-covering his head as it does so. He tucks himself back into his pants, prepares a wet cloth and wipes the cum from your abdomen before pulling your panties back up over your used cunt. 

His fingers quickly re-button your gown and he runs a quick hand through his hair before the doctor comes in, completely oblivious as to what’s just happened. Kylo greets him nonchalantly and takes his place off to the side as the doctor begins the surgery.

Your eyes flutter open lazily, grogginess hitting as you awaken a couple of hours later. Immediately, you feel the pain in your mouth, but more noticeably, you feel a certain ache in your lower half. You have no recollection of what you saw, as this memory is now trapped in your subconscious, but somehow you just sort of knew what’d happened.

You’re disgusted at yourself that you don’t mind the idea, that you don’t feel violated or like you’d been assaulted. You should feel those things, he did those things without your express permission, but...you don’t.

In fact, you feel as if your feelings for the mysterious doctor have grown even stronger. The gaping hole he’d left, the orgasm he’d robbed you of, just ached to be fulfilled. It was an itch you couldn’t scratch, sensations you couldn’t recreate on your own.

Only he could satisfy this desire, this need. 

And, as you sit up slowly and the doctor debriefs you, you know that you must fulfill this new destiny: Find Dr. Ren and make him yours once again.

[breathings-of-the-heart]

Stuck on You (Levi Ackerman x Childhood Friend! Reader)

A/N: Hi, guys! I just want to preface by saying that this is a TWO (maybe a three if i decide to write an epilogue drabble) PART SERIES, and I have just a few more scenes to write before I can post it! I don’t expect this one to do so well, to be honest, but it’s been so long since I’ve written anything I’m proud of and I think I’m happy with how this turned out. So yes, stay tuned for part 2 which i will link at the end once it is posted. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, season one/no regrets ova spoilers

Word Count: 3.5k 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5 years ago

“Why is it that you always seem to be on my case the most?” Your frustration was obvious and your patience dissipated, feet shuffling in their spot as you finally turned to face him. “You never nag Isabel this much.”

For a moment, Levi didn’t respond, scanning your body for injuries. After asserting that you were indeed okay, he stepped over the unconscious man who laid on the ground, jaw set in anger as he walked forwards until he was so close you had to tilt your head slightly to keep eye contact.

Your snappy behavior was uncharacteristic. It only fueled his temper. The raven shook his head in disapproval, trying to keep his anger in check as you glared at him defiantly.

“Isabel doesn’t make such careless mistakes,” he pointed out coldly. “You almost got yourself hurt, (Y/N)! What would you have done if I hadn’t shown up to cover your ass?”

The both of you stood there in silence for several minutes, gazing at each other and listening to your uneven breathing. His face, unlike so many others, never really did reveal everything he was thinking. Feeling. You were dared to search for something else in his steady gaze besides disappointment, but for once, you could not tell what you saw. It was infuriating, humiliating, and hurtful.

“Sometimes I wonder if there’s even a brain inside your thick fucking skull.”

His harsh words didn’t normally cut you, but this time you flinched, looking away from Levi as all the fight drained out of you.


Wearing your jewelry out at night was a careless mistake, that you could admit. What was hard to swallow was the fact that you had just been mugged, and nearly assaulted, yet all Levi could do was find the time to scold you, not seeming to care at all if you were shaken up by what happened.  

It didn’t scare you that the other man’s hands found their way onto your skin. It didn’t scare you that something bad could have happened had Levi not knocked him out. You weren’t afraid of any of it; you were afraid that all the raven-haired man could see you for were your mistakes.

“So you think I’m a burden then?” you asked, choking up.

Your change in tone caught Levi’s attention. You suddenly looked smaller, and more vulnerable than the last time he looked at you. He sighed again, shaking his head softly. It took all your strength not to shy away from his fingers as they threaded through your hair, stopping on your shoulder and tugging you against him. You let Levi do it nonetheless, knowing this was his way of saying sorry; knowing this was his way of saying: “I’m tough on you because I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”  

You pressed your ear against his beating heart, letting the sound soothe you.

“No, brat. I don’t think that. Let’s just go home, and forget about it,” his voice was more gentle this time.

You sniffled and nodded, chest bursting as Levi placed a feather light kiss on the top of your head. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never thought you’d miss the Underground. Especially when taking into consideration the miserable days after Levi, Isabel, and Farlan took that fateful deal, and were forced to leave you behind.  

Your feelings on the matter were conflicted, of course, but you were relieved and happy that the people who mattered most had such a big opportunity. They didn’t need to see you crying, nor hear about how scared you were to be by yourself. Each one deserved better than that, so you put on a brave face as they reassured you over and over that they’d come back. You beamed as brightly as you could, sending them off with words of encouragement as you continued fighting off the lingering feeling of dread as they left. 

You didn’t want to be a nuisance. Never wanted to be the reason they’d hold themselves back. 

Although he didn’t show it, Levi took it the hardest. He implored you to stay alive, in a scolding tone that he only ever used when he was worried. You could hold your own, but weren’t a fighter like the other three. The stern male had only ever been thankful of your gentle nature in the past, surprised to be cursing it now that he couldn’t protect you. But for him, you’d try your hardest, knowing that with a little faith and patience, you could be reunited in the future. 

The goodbye had been bittersweet, your lips slotting against his for the very first time. In a way, the way he kissed you seemed more like a promise than a farewell. His arms were wrapped around you all night, warmth lulling you to a sleep that otherwise, would never have been able to claim you. 

Parting afterwards the following morning became all the more difficult because of it.  

When Levi pulled a few strings with his newfound respected status and got the military to sponsor your citizenship, you were over the moon. Becoming a soldier was the last thing you expected out of your life, but wherever Levi and the others went, you would gladly follow. You felt at home again, throwing your arms around the man for the first time in months and giggling at the fact that while he accepted the gesture and patted your head awkwardly, his lack of affection never changed. 

But you were quickly learning that the ideological existence that lived right above your head was just an illusion. You came only to find your friends dead, and Levi more closed off to you than he’d ever been before. Up here, things were far from perfect, and as time went on, you instead yearned for the past if only to appreciate it better a second time around. And although things slowly got better, life was not yet finished throwing its hardships your way. 

The last person you had left slowly became out of reach, as time apart inevitably distanced the two of you and gave someone else the opportunity to fill that hole in his heart. 


Reality, you found, was much crueler under the blue of the sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t have to deny it, Levi. I know you better than anyone. I see the way you look at her,” you whispered, wringing your hands together in a feeble attempt to rid of the painful churn in your stomach. “I see it because you used to look at me that way.” 


It was admirable, at least, the effort you put in to keep your voice even. But the silence that followed those broken words was pitiful. The silence made it even more difficult to meet the gaze of the man in front of you. Levi had every opportunity to deny the truth of your burning statement; to bring you back into his arms and reaffirm his love like he used to. Like he would if maybe things were different. 

You knew, he had no desire to do that now. Instead, the Captain’s eyes screwed shut and a light sigh escaped his perfect lips, the warmth of it tingling your skin. It was nostalgic, almost, being alone with Levi like this. His face was nearer to yours then it had been in months, enough so that you could make out every tiny detail. The irony of it seemed mocking: for once, you couldn’t bear to look at him. Not that you needed to, with every feature of his sure to forever haunt your memory. 

But now all you could see were the interactions they had. Your vision consisted of watching as their bond and understanding grew. It was created in such a short amount of time, but hardly unpredictable with the amount of time Levi and Petra spent together. Even if Levi himself had not realized it, for you, it was plain as day. You knew him better than anyone. Could see that there was no pain in Levi’s eyes when he looked at her. Afterall, unlike you, Petra wasn’t a painful reminder of the past.   

Despite his physical closeness, this was the most detached you’ve ever felt from the male. The space between you was strange and unfamiliar. Lonely and cold.

At your words, he exhaled through his nostrils. 


“I would never be unfaithful, (Y/N). I never have been,” he spoke firmly, in that certain tone of speaking only he could manage. “I promised I would never leave you.” 

A tear spilled down your cheek, despite your best brave face. It was too much to handle, even for a calloused girl like you. Because despite everything, Levi had always been there. It seemed scary to have life any other way. 

Said man took your hand gently, handling it like porcelain. It wasn’t until his skin touched yours that you realized your fingers were shaking, and your facade was crumbling. His gesture was another reminder of what once was. The familiarity of his skin a testament to all the time spent simply existing with one another.

How did it come to this?

“A lot has changed since then, it seems,” you laughed softly, for once pulling away from his touch. “I bet you can’t even look at me without thinking about those two, huh?” 

You never once thought it was his fault. Even if you told him that, you knew Levi would always take accountability. Knew he would blame himself for taking Isabel and Farlan away from you. You should have seen this coming. It was inevitable that your love would be tainted, and that he’d find it somewhere else, even if it was unintentional. 

“(Y/N), wait—“ there was a small panic that awoke in the raven’s steely eyes that only those who truly knew him would be able to detect. 


“—You know how I feel about you, don't you? I want to be the one who you'd wake up next to every morning. The person you'd trust enough to spill all your secrets to, the one you want to hold close, the one who would make it hurt too much to ever let go. I want to be the person who can make you smile, or laugh until you can't breathe. Your first and last thought of the day, and the one you wonder about even when they’re not around.” 

You swallowed a whimper, fists clenched at your sides as your restraint came undone. It was all you’d ever wanted since you were small and starving and Levi was all you had to hold onto.

"But more than anything I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

And because that’s how much I love you.

“I’d spent the rest of my life with you, if you asked me to,” the stoic Captain stated, as simply and mindlessly as if reciting the weather. 

You knew it was true. You also knew better than to let your mind wander to that fantasy, or to let a world come into fruition in which you stopped Levi from pursuing his happiness; held back simply because his loyalty knew no bounds. You refused to be that selfish. You’d rather die a miserable death, a thousand times over. Rather endure this anguish for as long as it resided in your heart then watch his indifference turn to hatred as years of a one-sided relationship droned on and on.

He doesn’t want you anymore. 

“I know, Levi.” You paused for a long moment. “Petra's wonderful. I don't hate either of you, I want you to remember that." 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying desperately to forget the feeling of Levi’s lips on your skin, your face against his chest. The warmth between your ribs or the butterflies in your stomach, or the fireworks of passion that only he could make you feel. Tried to forget the rare but special, secret words of affirmation only your ears got to hear, and the goosebumps they’d send across your skin. 

You wanted to erase it all, if only to make it easier to walk away with the knowledge you’d never feel any of that again.  

It was pathetic. 

There wasn’t anything left to be said. So with the task near impossible, looked at your lover, your best friend, your rock, your Levi, and turned away.

You only managed three steps before a voice followed you and a hand closed around your wrist.

“Is this what you want?” He sounded apathetic, but you knew better. His underlying worry only made the pain feel worse. 

“I don’t know.” At the very least, you were honest.  

"Will I see you again?"  

As adaptable as he was, Levi was never a fan of the unconventionality that was “change.” He was never surprised, quick to go with the flow, even if he preferred certainty and steadiness. 

This conversation, though, was one he never expected. 

"Of course," you forced a tiny smile, knowing it was more convincing than it felt. "I just need a breather. I'll be back for dinner." The words tasted bitter in your mouth. 

That was the first and only lie you'd ever tell Levi Ackerman, having handed in your resignation papers to Erwin just yesterday.

Forgive me, Levi. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Snow fluttered down from the sky, coating the local shops and roofs of buildings with a thick, white blanket. Merchants and store owners alike grumbled their disapproval, bustling to sweep the front of their shops. The air was crisp and biting, yet you relished in the feeling and absorbed the atmosphere. Drunk garrison soldiers loitered around merrily, cheeks flushed from alcohol, catching the flakes in their hair and occasionally slipping on hidden ice in their drunken stupor. It made you chuckle softly, the residences of Wall Roses’ inconvenience the source of your contentment-- this was your first time seeing snow, the real thing a thousand times better than anything you read about in any book. 

You strolled through the marketplace, a basket holding bread, dried meats, cheese, and several fruits resting in the crook of your elbow. Your coin purse felt lighter than it had that morning, yet you carried on nonetheless, curious as to what Wall Rose had to offer. Children ran past you, throwing snowballs at each other and nearly running into you because of their haste. The sight made you grin as one of them bumped into one of the street market’s booths, knocking over a few items as he went. 

The woman behind the counter chastised them, her shouts growing louder when they barely spared her a glance and blended into the crowd of shoppers. Nick nacks and books were left scattered in their wake, askew on the cobblestone ground.

“Need help, ma’am?,” you asked her, picking up the objects from the ground. 

“Thank you, dearie,” she sighed gratefully, taking them from your hands. “Kids these days, so reckless and always in such a hurry.” 

You laughed airily, mirth swimming in your eyes. 

“You’re just lucky they didn’t steal anything,” you joked, reminiscing about your own thieving past. Your attention turned towards the noting the soldiers now dozing off on top of their card table nearby, tutting their behavior lightheartedly. “Levi, if only the police were like that back when we--” 

Out of habit, you turned around to meet his gaze, heart clenching when you remembered he wasn’t there. Your fists clenched to prevent you from smacking yourself at your carelessness. He’s not here, dumbass. 

“What was that, hun?” the woman behind the counter inquired, preoccupied in sorting her things. 

You put on your best smile, shaking your head before your thoughts could fill with images of a certain raven-haired, steele-eyed, heart-stopping male. The back of your eyes stung, the momentary joy of your first real winter quickly fading away.  

“Nothing important.” 

This is for the best, (Y/N). You’ve only ever gotten in the way, his whole life. Let the man be. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a few years since that last encounter with him. Part of you still wondered if Levi tried looking for you after realizing your true intentions of never coming back. You hoped he didn't, imagining instead that he'd made the most of the opportunity you'd given him. Prayed that it wasn't all for naught and he instead pursued what (or who) truly made him happy, instead of worrying about other people. In truth, you became content with life, learning to look back on memories fondly and being thankful for their existence. 

Residing above ground was enough reason to be grateful in itself, and you did your best to make the most of it. Your days were now spent in ways that paid tribute to your humble beginnings: individuals from the underground who managed to secure citizenship to the surface were put into your care. You helped men, women, and children alike assimilate into living on the surface, which included introducing the area, and assisting in finding housing and jobs. It was rewarding work, but more than anything, reminiscent to be able to see the wonder when their eyes meet the clouds for the very first time. The flickers of hope from your clients were things you carried with you every day. Your chosen profession left plenty of free time, however, as it was relatively rare for individuals to pay the hefty toll of climbing up those stairs. 

Your life was average, and for the most part, uneventful. The quietness that accompanied mediocrity proved to be comforting, however. It was a far cry from the days of constantly looking over your shoulder and needing to carry a knife in your boot, just in case.

At first, it was difficult not to cry at the thought of the stoic, raven-haired Ackerman. The heartache weighed down in your chest for a good amount of time. The simplest things reminded you of Levi, but after a while, instances where he’d cross your mind became fewer and further between. With a nicer home than anything you previously owned, a livable income, and an overall peaceful existence, you didn’t have any regrets. 

At least, that was what you told yourself until you heard the news. 

On off days you worked as a waitress at one of the many taverns within Wall Rose. Large tips were one of the many perks that drew you in originally. The chatter of the customers and frequent bar-goers was a welcome ambience, and an opportunity for you to combat the occasional feeling of loneliness. 

Occasionally, Scout Regiment gossip would filter through, especially about Humanity’s Strongest and the new titan shifter Eren Jeager. Updates were nice, knowing Levi was safe and thriving in what he did best. But as you placed a pint of beer on one of the tables and overheard a heavy set man babble loudly to his comrade, dread splashed over you in waves.

“The Captain was the only survivor in his squad. He wasn’t even with them when it happened, poor guy. He must feel terribly guilty.”     

Your vision became hazy as you tried not to panic; of all the rumours that filtered through the drunk mouths of customers, you had never heard bad news like this before. The last you’d heard, human kind was given a beacon of hope, and things were looking up after Eren Jaeger managed to plug up the hole in Trost. 

“Excuse me, but which squad did you say this happened to?” you heard your voice say. 


Across the table, the other man took a swig of his drink, and grunted indignantly. 

“Levi Squad, the best in the military I heard. A shame, but I suppose even the top in the Survey Corps are still just suicidal maniacs when it comes down to it.” 

No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen!  

After that, everything became white noise. You could only register every third movement, heart thundering in your ears. The tray you’d been holding to carry the drinks clattered as it fell to the ground, causing a few gasps and strange looks to be thrown in your direction. In your horrified state, dread weighed down like lead in your body. You rushed to the back room, tears clouding your vision as you tried not to stumble. 

You gripped the edges of the washroom sink, dizzy with this newfound information.   

Levi has now lost more people that he loved, and was probably experiencing the same survivor’s guilt as he did with Isabel and Farlan. He was most likely suffering alone right now, never having been one to let people see his vulnerability so easily.

You did not witness first hand what your friends’ deaths meant to him. When the Captain waited for you at the top of the staircase, his expression never seemed out of the ordinary. Levi was kind enough to let you enjoy your first few days up with him simply enjoying the newfound freedom. He made the excuse that your two other comrades were out on business somewhere, and would be back to see you soon. Maybe, at the time, your excitement blinded you from the deeper emotions hidden in his voice. 

When you found out the truth, their passing broke you. The fact that Levi shouldered any blame, however, is what twisted the knife. He had been grieving by himself; feeling that pain without anyone to comfort him. He had to put on a brave face just to see you; secretly spending that last month alone, probably relaying over and over how he would break the news to you. 

Your remorse increased tenfold when it was him who held you, and him who put you back together, just like he had to for himself. And now he was by himself all over again.

I have to do something. 

Splashing water on your face, you straightened up and looked in the mirror, a sudden surge of guilt coursing through your veins.

You refused to let Levi be alone this time around, no matter how he might feel about you now.

~~~~~~~

Part Two!

[ddarker-dreams]

Comfortably Numb. Yan Chrollo x Reader [COMM]

warnings: mentions of anxiety, just general uneasiness. word count: 2.6k.

Home is where the heart is. 

It’s meant to be the sanctuary where you can unwind after a long day of work, dress in your most comfortable pajamas, and feel no qualms for the opinions of others. A safe haven of your own making. Granted, there was a time that you felt this way, no matter how long ago it seems. A coveted period of your life that you wish you could return back to. On a surface level, any onlooker might take a glance at you and think you are as normal as they are. If only that were the truth, you bitterly lament. 

Now, what do you need to check on next? Milk is in good supply, not set to expire anytime soon. Hm… can’t say the same for the fruit. You jostle down some of your favorites onto the ever growing grocery list. What else is there? You’ve got to be missing something. Standing on your tiptoes, you open the overheard cabinet, that is now noticeably more barren than it used to be. The bags of tea that had once populated this area have vanished, all but a lonesome pack of matcha. Huffing, you close the cabinet doors, ready to voice your irritation.

Pivoting on your heel, you look over the kitchen counter and towards the occupied living room. “You drank all my tea?” 

“Not at all of it,” your unwelcome guest corrects, much to your displeasure. “Besides, you never said I couldn’t have any.” 

You raise an eyebrow at this conjecture. Who would’ve thought him a stickler for semantics. “Yeah, well, I never said you could have it either.” 

“That’s a fair enough point. I’ll be sure to reimburse you for it later.” Chrollo ends the conversation before it even begins. His attention returns to his original activity of reading, freely helping himself to yet another one of your belongings. An exhausted sigh leaves your lips at the sight. If you somehow make it out of this situation unscathed, you may take on a more pious lifestyle, having survived way more than you should’ve. It’s a wonder that Chrollo hasn’t seen fit to strike you down where you stand. Where you lack self-restraint in the verbal department, you make up for it in your overall composure. Surely anyone else would’ve been crushed under the immense pressure of having a murderer crashing at their apartment. 

That’s just about the best way to describe it, you think. How desensitized do you have to be to no longer shiver at the thought? In all fairness, Chrollo himself is treating this as the most ordinary arrangement in the world. At his own leisure he’ll start conversations with you, inquire about your day, and even offer insight that you never asked for. It’s gotten to the unfortunate point that you’re even starting to do the same. Treating him more as a peculiar roommate than the threat he truly is, though it could be your way of coping. That’s the explanation you’re going with.

Chrollo puts a bookmark into his read, and places it aside. “Is there anything you’d like for dinner?”

He asks the question as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Your normally schooled expression is broken, lips parting and eyebrows furrowing together. Is he being serious right now? There’s no way to tell for certain. Not on a lack of trying from your behalf, his countenance never hints at his innermost thoughts. You get the feeling what little Chrollo does reveal to you is intentional. How creepy. 

“I was just planning on warming up leftovers,” you accentuate this by opening your fridge. On the shelves sits lentil soup, apples, and some protein yogurts. Shit. “Scratch that. I’ll be settling for yogurt instead.” 

“You had that for breakfast, if memory serves.” Chrollo points out, as if you’re incapable of remembering that yourself. It’s odd that he feels the need to pay attention to every detail about you. How often is Chrollo observing you without you taking notice? You push the thought aside with a frown.

“What are you, my hostage-taker and nutritionist? Besides, this is what I like to call a struggle meal. Or, meals, technically. I’ll go shopping tomorrow to make up for it.” You grimace while picking up the gourmet cuisine for tonight. Strawberry cheesecake flavor. It’s better with stuff added to it for texture, but this’ll have to do. It’s doubtful someone who is hiding a stolen merchandise worth hundreds of thousands can empathize with your position. Not that it matters if Chrollo Lucilfer holds you in high regard, with all the blood on his hands. He’s got no room to judge.

“Hm, in the time we’ve spent together, I never considered you as dense,” he gets up from his seat, making his way towards the kitchen. You don’t get a word in edgewise before your dinner is plucked from your hands. Chrollo places it back in the fridge, while you stare at him with a slackened jaw. “I’m offering to buy you food, [First].” 

How considerate of him to spell it out for you. 

“Appreciative as I am for your gesture of goodwill, I’ll pass. I don’t want to be indebted to you.” You make for the fridge once again, scowling as he holds it shut with unnatural force. Damn, he’s strong. Maybe you’re playing with fire by provoking him, considering the power imbalance, but your tongue is faster than your brain. Both a blessing and a curse. Leaning more towards the latter, you muse.

“I insist. It’s only right that I repay you somehow, for allowing me to stay here. You wouldn’t be indebted to me.” Chrollo’s smile never reaches his eyes, you notice. Standing here in close proximity to him, there’s a lot more you can pick up on. Every little detail of his disposition is intentional. From his even keel tone, to his polite speech, and way of acting like you have any say in the matter. You’re all bark and no bite. Both of you are keenly aware of this, and still he talks to you as if he’s none the wiser. It’s demeaning in its own right. 

“I guess it is sacrilegious to turn down free food. Alright, you win.” You throw your hands up in mock defense. This uncomfortable interaction helped you remember the position you’re in, how every breath might be your last. He’s broken into your residence, forced you to hide him from encroaching hunters, and made your past ten days a living hell. It was the threats to your loved ones that ultimately earned your compliance. 

You can’t help the self deprecation that’s followed since that day. The law is what you’re supposed to be protecting, not protecting criminals from. Going to the station everyday with the knowledge that you’re harboring such a dangerous criminal is weighing heavily on your soul. Life sure is full of the worst ironies. Had it not been an A class bounty, you may have stood a chance. 

Chrollo reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out one of his many burner phones. “You’re being more agreeable than I expected, if I’m being honest.”

“What can I say? I become a bit of a yes man when my life is being threatened.” You respond with an empty smile of your own. Instead of earning any ire from him, he lets out an airy chuckle, of dubious sincerity. Whether it’s at you or with you is difficult to decipher. He pulls up a food delivery app, showing you the options. This was all prepared in advance, he must’ve taken the time to download it. So it wasn’t a spur of the moment decision to mess with you? 

“Y-you’re really letting me pick?” There’s no hiding your incredulous tone of voice. This series of events is far too bizarre to fathom, like a nightmare stepping into reality. Just a week ago you were contemplating how to poison Chrollo without him taking notice. Now you’re ordering food together. There has to be an ulterior motive lurking around, your gut won’t tell you otherwise.

He tilts his head at your apprehension, and repeats himself. “That’s what I said, yes.” 

Fuck it. When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, or so the saying goes. You’ve suffered enough at Chrollo’s hands, it wouldn’t hurt to make the most of it. You take the cheap phone from his hands, scrolling through the options, and realizing now just how wonderful the variety of food sounds. Working up an appetite hasn’t come naturally with your uninvited guest skulking about. He has enough prepaid visa cards to cover what you want, so you hold nothing back. 

After returning his phone to him, you can’t help but throw an additional sarcastic comment in. It’s second nature at this point. “Happy now?” 

“Very much so,” Chrollo doesn’t mention your indignation, eyes raking over your expansive order. It’s not until he gets to the end that he quirks an eyebrow. “... A one hundred dollar tip?” 

“Feel free to add some extra zeros to the end of that. It’s not binary code for ‘help me, there’s a criminal in my apartment’, if you’re worried about that.”

He hums in consideration. “I can’t say that came to mind.” 

“Shit, looks like I went ahead and busted my own master plan.” Your response is notably dry. A headache is already in the works, courtesy of speaking to Chrollo for too long. He never fails to keep you on your toes. For all the sardonic remarks you make at his expense, anxiety has never stopped plaguing you. It’s a miracle that your heart is still functioning properly. You don’t even know why you ordered the absurd amount that you did, other than from pure spite, since your stomach is churning too much to want to eat. Maybe that’ll change when the food shows up. If not, your co-workers are going to be in for quite a treat tomorrow. 

You return to your newfound favorite activity of ignoring Chrollo, busying yourself with anything that comes in sight. Watering your plants, putting mugs from the dishwasher away, menial stuff that keeps you busy. A new feat lies in your wake. Whoever designed this apartment didn’t do so with you in mind, your larger plates just barely out of reach. Not willing to concede to using a chair just yet, you keep up the gallant attempt, stretching as far as your body allows. Your fingertips graze just over the prized handle, only for you to fail again.

That’s when you feel an over looming presence behind you, a shadow encompassing your figure. Chrollo gets the plate you were reaching for with ease, his chest brushing over your back in the process. You feel your face flushing, your body going taut, standing still as a wooden plank. He sets it down beside you with a knowing smile. That bastard…! He’s doing this on purpose. Damn him. 

“It looked like you could use some help.” He tells you. It takes every ounce of your self restraint not to lunge at him, instead taking a deep breath and nodding your head. Why is he so intent on getting a reaction from you? It’s exasperating, serving no practical purpose other than his own amusement. Inundated with your thoughts, you don’t realize how sour a look you’re sporting. This is what he wants, you remind yourself. To get you riled up. You refuse to play into his hands, and manage to get a grip. 

Time passes by at a lethargic pace. After around forty minutes, your front door rings, and you pick up the order. Sitting at your counter, you help yourself to the meal, grateful that Chrollo has seen fit to leave you alone. There can never be anything good in this world, as he eventually joins you. You try not facing him as an act of defiance. The plan that seemed ingenious in theory has a rockier execution. Sitting in silence feels worse somehow, like a ticking time bomb. Shifting in your seat, you decide to strike up a half baked conversation.

“So, uh, about the whole being hunted down thing,” your voice wavers and you hate yourself for it, “Do you have an idea of when it’s going to be over? I’m starting to run out of excuses for why my friends can’t come over.” 

This is true. There have been no more lively gatherings at your apartment since Chrollo’s unwelcome appearance, and you’ve been pestered about it. In between the lines is the prospect of your friends finding this reclusive behavior suspicious. In your optimism, you hope he takes it as a hint to get out of here faster.

Chrollo takes on a pensive appearance, his chin resting on his hand. “I’d been meaning to talk to you about that, so I’m glad you brought it up.” 

How nice it is to be on the same page. This could be the light at the end of the tunnel, the last page in this awful chapter of your life. Ten days seems like a reasonable amount of time to lay low. Maybe he’s already packing his bags, planning to leave you far behind, so you can forget any of this ever happened. Maybe you’ll treat yourself to a vacation. From the gut wrenching anxiety Chrollo has inflicted on you, you feel deserving of one. 

“They’ve stopped searching for me a while ago.” 

Wait, what?

You look at him, silverware dropping from your lax hand. He’s never been into joking around. Does that mean he’s being serious with you? That all this time, you’ve been holding out for something that already happened? Fists balling by your side, you don’t bother hiding a sharp glare directed towards him. There’s no playfully wry response, no comeback, only disbelief and abhorrence. The bountiful meal in front of you is forgotten. 

There’s no point in asking, but you still do, voice low. “... How long?” 

“According to my sources, about a week.” comes Chrollo’s response, hammering the final nail in the coffin of your patience. His motivations have never been any less clear. You know you shouldn’t have taken the word of someone like him seriously -- you’re so painfully aware of this that it hurts -- but now leaves a final question. Why? What does he get out of this? You feel sick to your stomach, knowing that it’s going to bad no matter what. Your breathing has picked up, eyes dilating and body threatening to crumble under the tension. Everything feels out of place. 

He responds as if he was reading your thoughts. “You’re an interesting person, [First]. You never cried, pleaded, or anything of the like. Instead you accepted the situation for what it was, all while staying true to your values. I find that admirable. I’d like to learn more from you.”  

“Stop talking to me like I’m a -- a fucking -- science experiment, instead of a human being. How does any of that shit even matter?” You feel the blood draining from your face, every word coming out more forced than the last. Getting riled up here is the last thing you should be doing, but you can’t control yourself. All your negative emotions from your time with him are regurgitating into a final mess.

“I don’t know, truth be told.” Chrollo checks the watch on his wrist, and you gulp at the smile that forms on his lips. It feels like a sentencing, a foreboding omen. There’s bile rising in your throat, and you scramble away from your chair. You need to get out of here. You need to run, to scream for help, to alert your family, this is not going to end well, what is he planning-- 

There’s a hurried knock at your door.

“However, what I do know is that I have no intention of leaving this place without you by my side.” 

[tomurasprincess]

Lady in Waiting (Kirishima x Reader)

Pairing: Kirishima x Reader Rating: Explicit + Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: Dubcon, glory holes, blowjob, rough sex, spanking, degradation, stalking, yandere Notes: This is another BNHarem collab! Theme for this one was glory holes, and the masterlist can be found here. Be sure to check all of the other fics out, and give them some love! This prompt was a lot of dirty fun, so I hope everyone enjoys. 

You wait around a minute or so before heading to the door to try the doorknob. Locked, just as you thought. There really was no getting out of this now, a thought that actually comforts you more than scares you. Just do the job and then you’re set. It won’t be so bad.

You reach over to grab the cushions and arrange them around the glory hole itself. No reason for you to be uncomfortable, you think to yourself before you settle yourself down on the floor. You have no watch, so there’s no way of telling how much longer you have to wait. The anticipation is making you nervous, causing you to squirm in place as you resist taking a peek through the hole.

Finally, you hear rustling on the other side as someone makes their way up to the wall. Your first customer, you think bitterly, before shaking the thought from your mind and resolving to do what needs to be done. You expect whoever is on the other side to just stick their cock directly through with no fanfare, and are surprised when you hear an upbeat voice greeting you.

“Hey babe, you ready for this?” You’re surprised that someone in this situation would be considerate of you, but you’re infinitely grateful.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you say in a quiet voice. “Just a little nervous! I’ve umm,” you stammer a bit, “I’ve never done this before.”

“You and me both,” the voice laughs, but not in a mean spirited way. You hear the rustling of clothes and a zipper being drawn down, before a very impressive sized cock slides through the hole. The hole is almost not big enough to allow the action, and you hear a slight hiss as he scrapes just a bit against the opening. Whether from pain or pleasure, you can’t tell.

Using the small amount of light that’s peeking from the hole itself, you examine the stranger’s cock. It’s thick and already rock hard, with prominent veins running down the length of it, and the head of it is already red and dripping a bit with precum.

You swallow down your nervousness as you gently rub the cum up his length for lubrication, before wrapping your hand around his girth.

You hear a deep groan from behind the wall as you place kitten licks on the bulbous head of his cock, stroking the base at the same time. You go slowly at first, too nervous to be confident about your actions.

“ Yeah, that’s it babe,” you hear him say clearly through the wall. “You’re doing great, don’t stop.” And as he continues to moan, you become just a bit more comfortable as you rub his cock faster. You take the entire head into your mouth, licking along the underside of it as you continue to jerk off the part that won’t fit. Using your other hand, you reach down to cup his balls, massaging them gently with one hand.

The noises from the other side only spur you on, causing you to go lower and lower until your nose is almost pressing against the sparse hairs he has. But as you go to pull off, he thrusts up into your waiting mouth and you gag from the suddenness of it. Before you have a chance to recover, he’s snapping his hips back into your mouth, not letting up even as you try to pull away.

“Is this what you expected, you dirty little slut?” His tone is so vastly different from earlier that you would almost think it was someone else entirely. “Did you expect someone to - ahhh - face fuck you like this? I bet you did.” He makes a slight noise of pain as you accidentally graze him a bit with a tooth. “Careful now, babe,” he warns in a low voice. “Don’t use teeth or I’ll have to punish you.”

You try to relax your mouth and throat as much as possible, letting him do whatever he wants with your open mouth. You hope and pray that he’ll finish soon so that this will be over with. Until realizing this is only the first of the night, and you have hours more to go before you are truly done. But there’s no time to be upset about it yet, as he hits the back of your throat with one particularly hard movement.

You feel his cock twitch and his pace stutter, and then hot cum is shooting into the back of your throat. He allows you to pull away as you gasp and sputter for air, almost choking from the sheer volume of cum. The part that you’re not able to swallow spills out, dribbling down the corners of your mouth which you wipe away with a shirt sleeve.

You reach for one of the bottles of water, drinking deeply to try and wash the taste out of your mouth and hopefully moistening your already sore throat from the face fucking you just received. You wait for several seconds, wondering if the man is going to say anything or if he’s already left.

“You did such a good job,” he praises you. “So good that I’ll be seeing you soon,” he murmurs in such a low tone that you wonder if you misheard. You must have, because nobody but the ones hired are allowed back in these rooms. It’s strictly against the rules, a fact that makes you feel safer about this whole experience.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Finally, you think to yourself, as you hear the sound of clothes being readjusted and someone leaving the room. You didn’t expect him to take so long to get off, and your jaw was already sore from the face fucking he gave you. Despite how polite he was at the beginning, he clearly had an aggressive and dominant side to him that you certainly did not expect. You hope the rest of the men will be a bit easier on you.

Suddenly, you hear the door click open as someone steps through. Before you even have a chance to ask what’s going on, the door is shut firmly behind them as the sound of the lock clicking shut resounds through the cramped space. You try to see who has come into the room, but it’s so dark that you can’t make out any features.

“Hey, I don’t think you can be in here,” you stammer in nervousness. There is no room to maneuver, and only one way to get out. You’re trapped until whoever this is chooses to let you go or leave the room. You desperately hope that it’s simply a mistake, or someone involved with running the party.“There are rules that -”

“Oh, I’m definitely not supposed to be in here. But the rules don’t exactly apply when you’re a top pro-hero,” the man chuckles. “All I had to do was ask for a more intimate experience with you and they were falling all over themselves to grant my request.”

You panic, quickly standing up and trying for the door even as you know it’s hopeless. A fact that’s confirmed when the man easily grabs you and pushes you down face first onto the floor. “Now now, where do you think you’re going, baby? I’m not done with you.”

He tsks to himself as he rips off your dress, followed by your panties that he takes a deep sniff of before tossing them over his shoulder. “You weren’t even naked when you were sucking me off? Such a bad girl.”

“Please,” you whimper, “please don’t hurt me.”

“Aww, of course I’m not going to hurt you.” You feel two fingers run down your folds, collecting your wetness as he seeks out your clit. “I’m going to make you feel as good as you made me feel, baby.”

He finds your swollen bead quickly, rubbing tight circles across it as you try not to moan. He is clearly quite skilled at it, and you feel shocks of pleasure running through your body far quicker than normal. “I don’t want this - I don’t even know who you are!”

“Oh? But you were okay with sucking off any cock that came through that hole?” You feel a sudden sharp smack against your ass that causes you to gasp from pain and try to squirm away. Another follows, and then another, until your face is buried in the cushions in front of you with your ass stinging and tears running down your face. “Dirty little slut, feel how wet you are? You’re gushing all over my fingers just from me spanking you.”

You realize with horror that he’s right as he easily slips two fingers inside of you. He drags them across your inner walls, searching for that sensitive spot inside of you. You whine when he finally finds it, and he chuckles at your response.

“But if it makes you feel better, I’m Kirishima. Or just Kiri, if you want. Easier to scream when I’m balls deep in this tight cunt of yours.”

Before you can think of a response to that, he begins to use his entire arm to pound against that spot inside of you. You instantly see stars, clamping down on his fingers even as he adds in another one. You bury your face into a cushion to hide your gasps and moans, but he clearly isn’t having any of that. He grabs your hair and forces your back up into an arch as he continues to finger fuck you, leaning in to plant wet open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. “Does that feel good, baby?” He practically moans into your ear. “Gonna cum for me?”

A stray tear runs down your face and he laughs, licking it off your face as he coos at you. “Come on now, I just want to make you feel good. I’m nicer than any of the heroes who were going to stick their filthy cocks into your mouth. You should be more grateful,” he growls into your ear.

You wince as you feel the muscles of your stomach tightening, cunt continually clamping down around the fingers fucking you into submission. “Fuck,” you hiss out as you feel yourself right at the edge, “god, it feels - please stop, I don’t -”

“Shut up and cum for me, already. I can feel that cunt of yours clamping around my fingers like a vice, fuck baby, you are so hot like this.” The hand tangled in your hair moves to your shoulder, using his strength to slam you even harder back against his fingers.  You let out a squeal as you’re finally pushed over the edge, cunt fluttering as liquid gushes out against him.

“Fuck, you’re a squirter too, you have no idea how hot that is, baby,” he praises you as he removes his fingers from your aching cunt. “You’re going to keep being a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You give an involuntary nod, hoping this means that he intends to leave. But as you hear the distinctive sound of his zipper again, you realize that this is far from over yet. You don’t even bother to try and move away as you feel the bulbous head of his cock prodding at your entrance.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whisper desperately. “You’re a hero, right? I know you don’t want to do this.” You fear that it’s useless, that he’s going to do what he wants  anyway. But you have to try and appeal to his good side. Heroes don’t do this kind of thing, do they?

But when you hear his dark laughter, it confirms what you already know. He’s going to take you however he wants to take you. And with one quick snap of his hips, he’s fully buried to the hilt inside your tight cunt. You let out a choked scream at the pain of being filled all at once, tears sliding down your face as you try to get used to his size. Even being as wet as you are, it still badly stings.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he grunts out as he begins to move inside of you. “I do want to do this. You’re such a sweet girl, anybody could take advantage of you. There are heroes who really aren’t that nice, you know.” You whimper as he runs his hands over your sweat drenched body, nails trailing down your back as he speaks. “You should be grateful it’s me fucking you like this.”

He grabs your hips, hard enough to bruise, as he begins to slam harder into you. You’ve been forced down on your hands and knees, arms barely holding you up and breasts bouncing as his movements cause your body to jerk forward. He’s rough, incredibly rough, but every movement has the veins on his cock grinding against your sensitive walls, sending surges of pleasure through your body.

You feel the sharp pain of his hand coming down on your ass again, and an accompanying groan as you tighten around him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, “being such a good girl for me too. And good girls get gifts.”

Gifts? You can’t figure out what he means until you feel his cock twitching inside of you. Your eyes widen as you begin to plead with him. “No, please not inside, I’m begging you, please anywhere but -”

It’s too late though, as his pace stutters and he cums right against your unprotected cervix. He groans deep in the back of his throat as you feel hot ropes of cum coating your insides. You let out another choked sob as you collapse to the floor, unable to support your body weight.

Kirishima lets out a soft noise that you think is supposed to be comforting as he pulls you closer, nuzzling your neck gently. “Shh, you did so well for me.” He strokes your hair gently. “I’ll even do you a favor for this.”

You glance up at him with tired eyes, not really believing in any favor he would give you. But you still ask. “What kind of favor?”

“You’re done for the night.”

“But what about -”

“With full pay, don’t you worry about that.” He gets up off the floor as he starts getting dressed, before heading to the door. “You’re free to go. Don’t worry, I’ll get things taken care of.” And with that, he’s gone. You shakily get up and put what’s left of your clothes back on, leaving the parts he tore off of you. 

You’re almost surprised when you’re able to just walk out of the mansion without anyone trying to stop you, and even more surprised when there’s a cab waiting for you. 

Well, you think, that was more than what you intended. But it was worth it in order to be debt free. To be able to start over.  You find yourself smiling for the first time in a long while.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kirishima quickly answers the phone call that he’s been waiting for. “Yeah? Do you have her address? You do? Good. Yeah, I have pen and paper.” He scribbles down an exact address before thanking the cab driver and getting off the phone. Money really could buy anything, he chuckles to himself.

He stares down at the note he’s holding, other hand tucked in his pants pocket where the panties he stole from you reside. As soon as he left you in that room, he realized how stupid he was. He had been telling the truth when he said anyone could and would take advantage of that innocence. That was made evident just from the fact that a girl like you was at a party like this.  

It’s clear that you’re naive and shouldn’t be left alone, Kirishima thinks. Not all heroes are as nice as he is, after all. Some would have hurt you, or even worse, not pleasured you like he had. It was a mistake to let you go. A mistake he was going to rectify immediately.

He was only doing this to protect you. Well. He was doing this mostly to protect you. A part of him had to admit that he also simply wanted you again. Wanted to feel the way your tight cunt gripped his cock like it never wanted him to leave the wet heat of your insides. Wanted to hear you squeal as he made you squirt over and over again. Wanted to that breathy voice gasp his name until your throat was hoarse.

He walks out of the party, getting into the fancy limousine that brought him there. “Where to?” His professional chauffeur asks him.

“We’re going to this address,” Kirishima says as he hands over the note. “And make it quick. Can’t keep a lady waiting, now can we?”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Tags: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles​, @ttamaki​, @lildreamer93​, @marlowewrites​, @redbeanteax​, @kittygonyan​, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love​, @daedaep69​, @heyybrittannia​, @groovydreamertrash​, @hisoknen​, @chou-maitresse​, @shoutogepi​, @togasknifes​, @kingtamakimurder​, @league-of-thots​, @shigaraki-is-my-master​

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea- Matthew Tkachuk (20)

all parts here

“It’s about fucking time!” 

“Holy shit, he finally did it!” 

“Go, Chucky, get your girl!”

The shouts from the team when they saw the two of you together were as loud as ever and everyone seemed to be celebrating.

“We’re still just friends,” you reminded Matthew and removed his arms from your waist.

“I know,” he shouted after you as you quickly skated away from him.

“So shut your friends up!”

You’d just told yourself that it didn’t matter what the team and their families thought but seeing them, and hearing them cheer on whatever was happening with you and Matthew had you trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. 

It was easy to think about the two of you when you were alone in a hotel room with one bed, or were in only ones in the hallway at work, or anywhere else where it was just you and him but letting everyone else in wasn’t something you were ready for. You weren’t sure you would ever be ready for it, because it would mean actually letting your guard down. Not just with Matthew, but with everyone around the both of you and thought of doing so wasn’t something you could see yourself doing anytime soon.

You could never picture a time in your life where it was acceptable for Matthew Tkachuk to wrap his arms around you or pull you into a kiss with his teammates and your bosses surrounding you and easily supporting it like it was nothing. 

 The room was starting to get hot and your skates were bothering you. Scanning the wood rink, you found Matthew at the other end fucking around with a few of the guys.  His team, his friends were here now. That meant you probably didn’t need to be, and you doubted he’d notice if you slipped out and took an Uber home. 

*

“Have you seen the girl I came in with, before everybody else got here?”

Matthew had gotten a little too caught up in spending some off time with the guys that he kind of abandoned her. He hoped she was off somewhere socializing with someone else and wouldn’t be be bothered. After checking the entire place and speaking to a bunch of people who claimed they hadn’t seen her in a while, he found himself talking to the girl behind the skate rental counter. 

“She left, turned in her skates like twenty-five minutes ago.”

“What? Did she happen to say why?”

“Nope, just gave back her skates, told me to have a good day and headed out.”

His head was spinning and his feelings were more than a little hurt. They were having fun before everyone else arrived, at least he thought so. What had changed?

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

Matthew replaced his skates with his shoes and set them underneath the table. He couldn’t just leave what was supposed to be a team event, but he needed to know what happened and stepped outside to make the phone call.

Her phone rang twice before she answered. 

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. What the fuck?”

It came out angrier than intended but fine, maybe he was a little angry. 

“What?”

“You just bailed on me. Why?”

“I just assumed now that everyone was there you’d want to spend time with them. You rarely get to do fun stuff like this with them so I just figured..”

“I get to skate with them everyday. It’s literally my job. I wanted to spend time with you,” he paused for a second to recover, “as friends, obviously.”

At least the first part was true. 

“Oh.”

Oh? That was all she had to say?

“Well, I need to get back inside so I guess I’ll just see you when I see you.” 

“Ok,” he was too irritated and hurt to notice that her voice had gone just a little bit softer. 

*

Matthew ended the call without saying goodbye and you knew you fucked up. He hadn’t been paying much attention to you though, and he looked like he was having so much fun, and maybe you were a little scared that people would get the wrong idea if you hung around him the entire time. 

That’s what friends did though, right? Spent time together? You knew you couldn’t go back to the rollerskating rink and face him, but you knew you couldn’t leave things the way they were. 

His phone went to voicemail after the normal amount of ringing, which you figured would happen. He definitely wasn’t going to be waiting around for you to get in touch with him after ditching the hangout. 

“Look Matt,” you went casual hoping it would soften him a bit, “I’m really sorry I left. I honestly didn’t think you’d be mad but clearly I was wrong. If I’m being honest, this thing happening between us is the most confusing relationship, if you can even call it that, that I’ve ever had and I’m having a really hard time navigating it. Again, I’m sorry for ditching you. I guess I’ll see you at work. I hope you still have fun today.”

++

You were pretty deep into the second season of “The Circle” and a ten piece spicy nuggets from Wendy’s when your phone vibrated. It was a text from Matthew and you were scared to read it. 

So you decided not to, not yet anyway. Hopping off the couch, you headed into the kitchen and poured yourself a considerable glass of wine and downed it like it was a shot of tequila, and then you did it a second time. After that, you grabbed the barely touched bottle of tequila from your cabinet and poured yourself a shot, tossing it back with no chaser. 

It was too much at once but you got comfortably tipsy pretty quickly and decided that it was time to open his message. 

Get out of your fucking head and just hang out with me. We’re trying to be friends, not work out how to handle an arranged marriage. I’ll be home tonight, head up if you want

If he was offering, who were you not to take him up on it?

*

Someone was pounding entirely too aggressively on Matthew’s door and he had an idea of who it might be.

“Jesus, I have neighbors!” 

Matthew pulled her into his apartment and shut the door behind them. He noticed her slightly glazed eyes and the silly smile on her lips, “why are you only cool with me when you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” she defended, “just nicely tipsy.”

“Come on,” he lead her into the kitchen and thrust a bottle of water into her hands, “drink this.”

“Fine,” she huffed but did it anyway and he couldn’t deny how cute he thought that was. 

She downed the water and seemed to be a little more stable but he wasn’t sure.

“You want to come watch TV with me?”

“Depends, what are you watching?” 

“The Circle.”

“Which season?!” 

She lit up at his response and fuck, that was fucking adorable too.

“Second season, you watch it?”

“Yes! I’m on the tenth episode!”

“I’m only on the second, do you mind watching stuff you’ve already seen?”

“Not at all, I love this show!”

She fell asleep with her head on his chest within twenty minutes and he didn’t dare try and move her so he continued watching the episodes in the same position and finally let himself fall asleep when Netflix asked if he was ‘still watching?’

*

You woke up on a couch you didn’t recognize with your head on a chest you weren’t familiar with. It wasn’t until you stretched your arms and your hand slid into a mess of curls that you realized where you were. 

“Fuck,” his voice was heavy with sleep, “you’re going to have to fuck me if you want to pull my hair like that.”

“Shit,” he was up quickly and practically shoving you off of him, “I didn’t mean that.”

“Jesus, Matthew,” you chuckled at the expression on his face and stood up from the couch to stretch, “this is the worst couch I’ve ever slept on. I thought you had money?” 

“Shut up.”

He ran a hand through his curls as he stood up and you couldn’t stop yourself from watching. Matthew was only dressed in a pair of basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. You counted his abs and wished you had been sober when you slept on them because then you could have truly appreciated them. 

“Eyes on mine,” a smug smile sat on his lips, “you’ve had plenty of looks, no more until you’re willing to return the favor.” 

Matthew Tkachuk was an irritating, annoying pest and an overall pain the fucking ass but he was lovely to look at and you’d always known it. If he could be a scandalous flirt, so could you.

“I could say the same to you. Your eyes have been below my neck since we got up and I think it has something to do with the tank top and shorts I’m wearing.”

He was standing in front of you now, his chest less than an inch from yours and the sexual tension radiating off the two of you was strong enough to cut diamond. 

“I’m looking respectfully,” he commented, “I respect the fact that you are beautiful and that I don’t just want to be your friend. I, respectfully, want so much more than that.” 

There it was fucking was. Matthew didn’t want to be your friend, and you didn’t want to be his either. 

“I’m going to, respectfully, tell you that I don’t want to be your friend either. Also, respectfully, I’d like you to ruin me, Matthew Tkachuk.”

[shushiyuii]

I am but a humble person that enjoys Tiny!Wilbur and Giant!Tommy fearplay that has some comfort-

:]

-Candle Licker Mfer

Here's your request my candle dearest! Apologises if there's many mistakes, i may may not have been sleep deprived whilst writing this and may may not have tried to defeat god in the process but thats not the point-

Warnings: Fearplay (tossing of tiny) and that's about it.

Words: 1.4K

So recently, Wilbur and Tommy had come over to visit Phil for a while as they were planning on working on vlogs and spending quality time with dad, but that certain person was currently and conveniently not home at the moment.

So that left this mischievous duo to their own doings, and the two decided the best idea was to play hide and seek, which may have may not have proved to be a mistake, not one with any fatal or perhaps traumatic experiences but it was something, nonetheless.

Compared to normal hide and seek, usually, both would considerably be normal-sized, but Tommy and Wilbur have added a little trick to this game of theirs, you see, normal hide and seek can be so boring so a little twist to the game makes it all the more exciting, the twist being that one or the other will be tiny.

The reasoning being that it makes the game so much more fun, it adds more excitement and boy, does it boost your ego; At least for Wilbur’s sake since he’s always the fucking giant and always fucking wins He always fucking wins, he always scares Tommy by lifting him so high up into the air… But oh, this time, this time will be different.

Why? Because well this time Tommy was the giant as our little Wilbur had taken some amount of pity to our dearest Tommy but oh man was that his mistake and now. Tommy was prepared to win, he had memorised all of Wilbur’s hiding spots, so he was bound to win. Oh, how they turned have tables, he had his guaranteed win this time.

“Tommy. What on earth are you snickering about?”. His trail of thoughts was cut off as the sound of Techno’s voice hit his eardrums. “TECHNOO!!”. Right, Technoblade was here too… Wait if Techno’s here then- “If you’re worried about that game of yours, Wil already told me about it. Just leave me be and I won’t give a shit”.

Relief washed over him, at least Techno was gonna be chill about it, he’s usually quite the dickhead when it comes to these sorts of things.

He sighed as he paced around the room, waiting for the signal that Wilbur was ready to be found. He waited for what seemed like hours until a “Du du du duu” Sound was heard from his phone, it was time.

He booted it out of the room in search of the tiny. He carefully looked through the corridor, pacing it three times to be sure, then headed to the kitchen down the hall. Within he checked the sink, fridge and every cupboard to its nook and cranny but still no sign of the bitch boy.

He took it upon himself to search the bedrooms and so he did, not Techno’s though, but he did knock and ask in case Wilbur was hiding in there, Techno was one thing, but Techno would not betray Tommy and he knew it. As he searched, he found no sign of him. So, he searched the bathrooms.

He looked at the shower, bathtub, medicine cabinet, baskets heck even a peek at the water tank but nothing. The only other place Wilbur could possibly hide was either the storage closet or the longue.

He cringed as he thought of the storage closet, that would be a hell to go through, but it was better to search through there first. He went downstairs and did a quick yet efficient search and found nothing.

Wilbur was probably in the living room... He groaned at the thought of it since he’s always hiding in the most obvious of places. And went he searched, under the carpet, couches, tables, behind the tv, in the drawers, between the couch cushions and everything yet there was nothing…

He hadn’t, the secret spot… Oh was Wilbur screwed now! Tommy knew right where he was. The thought of victory made him feel so superior, he hadn’t even one yet but victory was so damn close and he could feel it, the rush, the feeling, the ego and boy was he excited to have it.

He went to the dining room and there in the wall was a slightly open hidden compartment, Wilbur was in there alright… Tommy had found it a while ago, whenever Wilbur was tiny he’d always come from near the dining room, so one day while Wilbur was out he searched the entire room and found the compartment, Wilbur was smart he’d give him that.

How did Tommy know Wilbur was in there? Because it was shut before the game started and he made sure to check and since it was now slightly open, there was no other place he could be. He knew Techno wouldn’t betray him!

He made sure not to make a single sound… He wanted Wilbur to feel as much fear as possible… He investigated the small peek hole and saw the man sleeping?

Damn was he confident in himself, little did he know he was just going to have the scare of his life…

He quick as he could, he yanked open the compartment door and yanked Wilbur right out, Wilbur screamed his head off, one moment he was asleep in the compartment the next he was startled awake by Tommy…

“TOMMY! THE FUCK MAN!”. But did Tommy stop there? No how could he after every time Wilbur found him?

Every time Wilbur found him, every time he was sure he’d win. Wilbur found him at the last minute he was caught off guard and scared the living hell out of him. Now it was Wil’s turn to feel that fear…

He tossed Wilbur high as he could without reaching the ceiling, being careful not to drop Wilbur. He screamed his lungs out again and as he landed in Tommy’s hand with an ‘oof’. He was tossed again, when Wilbur landed again, he quickly screamed at Tommy to “STOP IT TOMMY!” but he didn’t as he was tossed a third time.

Tommy thought that was enough revenge and caught Wilbur, bringing him towards his face and smirking with a big ego, just like Wilbur did. “THE FUCKED TOMS?!”. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, had he been too rough?

That was when he saw Wilbur’s chest rising up and down at a really fast pace, Wilbur had tears in his eyes. Fuck, he fucked up, fuck, what does he do?!

“Wil? Wil? Shit- I-I’m sorry! Please!”. Wilbur took a deep breath, calming his nerves somewhat. “Tommy I’m fine!” He yelled slightly, in between breaths. It didn’t ease Tommy’s worries though. “I’m sorry..”. He muttered and put Wilbur back down onto the couch.

The two sat down on the couch, neither breaking the silence for a moment as Wilbur tried to control his breathing. Tommy looked away, ashamed of what he did, he had his head in between his knees and refused to look at anything else.

A couple of minutes later, Wilbur’s breathing had turned to a normal panic, his mind raced as he thought about what had happened, why the fuck would Tommy do shit like that?!

But he did feel bad for yelling at the teen, he knows the teen hates being yelled at. So carefully, he made his way across the couch and sat at Tommy’s shoulder.

“You alright?”. Wilbur asked as he began to comfort the boy, “Wil- I just fucking hurt you! I’m sorry I just-“He could hear it in his voice, although somewhat blocked, he could still hear the boys sobs. “Hey, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. Why’d you do it in the first place?”. He ran circles on the boy's chin.

“I- I just wanted you to feel how I felt every time you found me… You always scare the life out of me, sometimes I even think you’re going to drop me. I wasn’t gonna hurt you I promise! I just-“.

“Oh shit Toms- I..” Now Wilbur felt really bad, no wonder why the boy had done it, why he looked he scared every time he was picked up, shit, Wilbur had been an ass himself hadn’t he?”.

“Oh god, did I really scare you like that Toms?”. “Mhm-“. “Hey- hey- look at me”. He directed Tommy’s face to look at him, there he saw the tears running down his face. He placed his hands on his nose and hugged it.

“I’m sorry Toms, really I am. I promise to be gentler, just come here now okay?”. Tommy leaned in closer and held Wilbur in his hands and cuddled.

Hopefully, hide and seek wouldn’t be too rough now.

[writing-in-april]

Occupied

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer and Reader get caught by one of their co workers in a bar bathroom after Reader couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

A/N: This is the 1st of my 7 fics 7 days in a row for my 500 follower celebration! Thanks again for 500! Here’s another smut that’s in a clandestine spot lmao this’ll be my second public smut in a row plus I have one more already written that’s coming in like two weeks😂 Thanks to @imagining-in-the-margins who helped me get the ball rolling early on with dialogue and @definitelynotkatesblog for the original prompt!

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, Public sex, Unintentional edging, Humilation, Getting caught, Derek being Derek, Established relationship

Masterlist Word count: 1.5k

Sneaking off to go fuck your boyfriend in a bathroom at a bar was a little sleazy but, I had been desperate all day to find some alone time. The team had just finished a grueling case and I wanted nothing more than to order Spencer to rail me into next week. However, my plans had been dashed by Emily who had suggested we all go out to a bar to release the tension of the week before flying home in the morning.

We were all sitting in a booth at the bar that was a little too small to fit all of us and as a result I was practically sitting on Spencer’s lap, which was not helping my desperation at all in the slightest. Every so often he’d shift underneath me whether to get more comfortable or to pick up the Arnold Palmer he had been casually drinking. Each time he shifted I felt my panties dampen just a little more. This was tortuous.

My moment of opportunity came to me when Spencer lifted me off of his lap and said he was going to the bathroom. The bathroom doors were just hidden out of view from the table, so if I got up as well to go ‘to the bathroom’ no one would know if I followed in after him or dragged him into the woman’s bathroom. I quickly excused myself from the table as well after waiting a small amount of time to not arouse suspicion.

Normally, I’d choose the latter and pull him into the woman’s bathroom as it's universally known that they’re nicer. But, I had to switch to plan B when I saw that the ladies room was crowded with people.

I quickly checked my surroundings before slipping into the guy restroom. When I entered it was completely deserted besides Spencer, who was washing his hands at the sink. When he looked up into the mirror and spotted me behind him he spun around quickly with his eyebrows raised. I didn’t give him any time to respond before pulling him into the nearest stall.

“Y/N?! What are you doing?” He squeaked loudly as I reached forward to palm him through his slacks while reaching behind me to lock the stall door, I didn’t want to take my eyes off of him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Now fuck me.” I said before slipping my shirt over my head revealing my bare chest to him. I sensed some hesitation from him, maybe because we had never done something so clandestine this close to our coworkers before. “Please… It’s not like we haven’t done something like this before.” A switch must have flipped in Spencer at my reference to our last dalliance that we had had in a risky location (That had happened at a park).

“You better keep quiet unless you want our coworkers to hear how desperate you are.” He said with venom in his voice while pulling up my skirt, dipping his hand immediately underneath my panties to run teasing circles on my clit and enveloping me into a harsh kiss. Pleasure started to overtake me, loving the way that he had suddenly ripped any sort of dominance of the situation from out of my fingers, but it wasn’t enough to get me anywhere near the edge of an orgasm. I whined in frustration at his antics so he tried to move his fingers away from my clit to finger me. Instead of letting him I bat his hand away, I was more desperate for something else, “I’m already wet enough I promise- just hurry up.” He looked a little irritated at the fact that I gave him an order but still obliged me by quickly freeing his cock. His pants were only opened just enough to free him but it still gave me a good look at his hard cock that did wonders to me. He hooked one of my legs around my waist and started to tease his cock between my folds. I whined pathetically once it had gone on too long for my tastes which he let out an annoyed grunt in reply.

Then with no warning he pushed into me, filling me swiftly all the way to the hilt. Pure euphoria coursed through my veins when he immediately started thrusting giving me no time to adjust to his considerable size. Even though we slept together quite often and had a healthy sex life, every time his size still took some getting used too.

He started to whisper into my ear about how pretty I looked for him when I was desperate and all I could come up with as a response was a high pitched Yes that was probably way too loud. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth to try and muffle any other sounds that tried to escape while Spencer started to nip at my collarbone to stifle his somewhat now unable to say anything else into my ear because of the pleasure he was receiving.

The way that Spencer then pitched his hips in conjunction with the tight circles he started to rub into my clit again my release was hurtling toward me faster than I ever thought possible. My legs were shaking violently and if he hadn’t been there to partially prop me up I’d have probably melted into a puddle onto the floor. Though, unfortunately the sweet feeling of euphoria I was headed towards was dashed away just by a few words.

“I’m pretty sure the bathroom stall you’re in is supposed to have a maximum occupancy of one.” Suddenly was said loudly cutting right through the breathy moans from the two of us, we both immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Derek. Spencer let out a high pitched squeak and then froze up like a statue as soon as he had heard the voice reverting back to the shy Spencer we were all used to. The both of us hadn’t even heard the door open to caught up in our personal pleasure.

“That’s very ableist of you Derek.” My sudden nonchalant response came after a brief pause to Derek walking in on the two of us seemed to embarrass Spencer as his face had turned a dark shade of red. I moved my hands from Spencer’s shoulders into his hair to try and soothe his embarrassment. Though, I still decided to give Derek one last quip before shooing him out of the bathroom. I had been so close to finishing plus he had embarrassed poor Spencer, he could deal with some embarrassment himself from my words.“Sometimes you need two people. Right now was not one of those times but, you wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t heard me.”

I must have stunned Derek into silence because for a good 30 seconds there was silence on his end. Though, I never really ended up getting a full response from him. Instead, he gave us what could only be described as a mortified slash apologetic grunt; then leaving the room quickly afterwards not even bothering to care if the door slammed hard on the way out. I don’t think he was expecting that response from me.

Getting redressed took almost no time seeing as the only article of clothing either of us had removed was my top. In the hopes of Derek keeping his mouth shut Spencer and I decided to walk out separately. I paced in the small stall as much as I could in the small space while waiting for my turn to leave, hoping that no one would come in here or see me leave, but most importantly that Derek didn’t say anything.

“Well you took a long time.” Emily remarked slyly to me once I had slowly walked back before lowering her voice and continuing.”I’m assuming when Derek went to see where you to had gotten too he got an eyeful”

I flashed Derek a harsh gaze, assuming he had told everyone at the table. Though, I dropped it once Emily quietly pointed out to the hickey that had sprouted on my collarbone. However, my annoyance had not abated, my clit was throbbing, begging for attention after it had been cruelly toyed with

I was sure the teasing would all come tomorrow on the plane once Derek got over his residual embarrassment and everyone wasn’t so buzzed. I gritted my teeth in frustration, if I hadn’t been desperate before I sure was now after having my release stolen from me. Though, I was even more frustrated that Spencer seemed to be doing just fine. Throughout the rest of the night all I could think about was what Spencer could do to me when we finally got back to our hotel room. I wish Hotch had let us take an extra car so I didn’t have to wait. When we finally got in the car to drive back I was vibrating with anticipation all over again I couldn’t wait until we found someplace that was less occupied.

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 14)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous SFW Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Previous Chapter NSFW!: The More You Know

Next Chapter: Shadows Fall

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: This is my favorite chapter by far in this book, I've been wanting to drop this for weeks! I hope you enjoy reading. Part 2 of the story starts from here on until the end. Feel free to scream in the comments as usual XD

Chapter 14: Big White Lies

As the days passed by, the seasons changed. You started class in Spring. Summer has long passed and it is now the beginning of Winter. Noritoshi, as usual, was really busy so you didn’t see him as often. But you let it go.

You wanted to do something nice for him, so you had the idea to surprise Noritoshi. Having some cupcakes in a small bag and a fresh cup of coffee in your other hand, you were outside his door, hiding your presence and cursed energy to mask your identity.

As you raised your hand to knock on his door, you heard a second male voice.

"I'm glad to hear that you've been getting along with your soulmate son." His father's voice was heard over a speaker. Oh he was on call with his dad!

Yikes, not the best time to interrupt. It is impolite to listen into the conversation, but you were too excited to surprise him that you decided to wait for the call to end.

"Is Y/N really deeply in love with you? Make sure to not let her go. That will surely help our clan's reputation rise above with her skills being integrated into ours. She can definitely bear strong heirs for our clan. For centuries it was the Zenins that harnessed various types of jujutsu shi with strong techniques. It's time we continuously expanded ours as well. Starting with her." The Kamo clan head sternly ordered his son.

'Huh?'

"Yes of course father. Don't worry. She has already confessed her love to me so there's nothing to worry about. I'll do my best to make this clan proud and powerful. I definitely won’t let you down." Noritoshi replied.

The smile on your face slowly faded as your face turned to stone. Ah. Was that it?

Is that what you amounted to only? A tool for their use. A stepping stone for the Kamo clan to get stronger. You started to feel nauseous. Is this the so-called secret he didn’t want to tell you about…

You stood quietly as you continued eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Heh, looks like you can actually be a womaniser if you wanted to. Women are way too easy. As I told you before, give her sweet touches, use pet names, give her lots of encouragement and make promises here and there and they'll be by your side before you know it." His father snorted.

"Yes, I've taken your advice into consideration and did as you said." Noritoshi spoke firmly. Your heart was breaking with every word spoken.

"If you don't like her or how she looks, you can have several concubines and wives anyways. Have your pick. Remember Homura chan? Now she's a stunner. Didn’t you also say you found her cute?"

‘What on earth is this? Who is Homura? Why?’ Your hands start shaking badly, pulse thundering in your ears.

You felt light headed from the brutish words the Kamo clan head was saying, and silently retreated, not wanting to hear Noritoshi's response to his father. Keeping your presence and cursed energy hidden and as minuscule as possible while you walked back to your dorm room.

Because you had left you didn't hear the remainder of the conversation.

"Father, I respect that the older clan heads had several wives and concubines. And I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not interested in Homura san. But I've decided to be loyal to my one true soulmate. I think I am falling in love with her as well, and can't bear to see her hurt. I won't be taking in any concubines." Noritoshi politely replied.

It was the first time he had spoken about his true feelings out loud and he felt vulnerable. He braced himself for any harsh words from his father but none came.

His father only raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. The fact is, even if she doesn't give birth to an heir with the inherited Blood Manipulation, she is more than enough of an additional asset to our clan. And it ties us together with the Abe/Tsuchimikado clan as you know."

Clan politics. Noritoshi is getting more and more sick of it every day, but he just silently nodded. As long as he has you and his mother by his side, nothing else matters. "Yes I understand father."

Noritoshi hated talking about his family with you, because of this exact reason. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by this side of their family and get pulled into their family problems. The worst thing would be for you to have a terrible first impression of the Kamo clan.

He understood that you already had a lot on your plate as your missions grew harder and harder. You were often assigned to grade 1 missions alone already. The worst case was for you to get roped into doing messy tasks to please the clan elders.

◇◇◇

You paced around your room, staring at the cupcakes and coffee on your desk. They were getting cold.

Cold. That's how you felt inside and out. You had to confront him. Or else your relationship will just drag you down. You definitely didn't want him to have any concubines. Didn’t want to have a partner who didn’t love you after all.

You were so lost in your emotions that you didn’t realize you were jumping to several conclusions on your own without considering Noritoshi's feelings for you properly.

'But it was starting to make sense' Your mind was screaming at yourself. 'He never explicitly confessed his feelings. He does indeed give me mixed signals from time to time. He shuts me out of private matters to him. He could be using me.’

The one question that was breaking you apart now is: "Was everything a lie? How much of his actions were sincere? He could lie about anything. To get power, that's something the big 3 clans are capable of doing. Satoru told me of some of the horrors already…"

The doubt and feelings of betrayal piled up, until you came to one conclusion: You’ve had enough.

◇◇◇

The next day, you suppressed all your emotions and distracted yourself. You tried your best to act normal around Noritoshi, smiling brightly at him.

It wasn't too effective. Everytime he called you his angel, instead of the delight you usually feel, you felt hurt thinking he was forcing himself to do this.

This can't go on forever. And eventually Noritoshi could start to feel the pain in your heart on his end as well. He hurried to you one afternoon after class, dragging you out to the plum tree away from the buildings.

You looked up at Noritoshi. As handsome as ever. Gentle and concerned (lies), with a strong hand reaching to cup your face (lies lies), speaking so carefully, "My angel, how are you? Why are you troubled? Have I done something to offend you?" (Lies, it was all lies).

He must be lying. Must have been since day 1. The way your brain just jumped to the most terrible scenarios in which he never liked you. There's no other reason. Your breathing quickened.

Both of you were still in the first stage of the soulmate bonding; therefore, you couldn’t share all emotions yet. Just urgent and strong random flashes of it, especially negative emotions. This is why both of you weren’t able to feel the love the other has through the bond yet.

You stopped smiling.

"I overheard your conversation with your father. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I had a present for you that I wanted to give you yesterday, so I waited outside your room. But that doesn't really matter anymore." You said, cooly shrugging off the hand on your face.

He stiffened, whole body tensing. 'No it was going so well with you, this can't be happening.' He thought to himself.

"Y/n I can explain-"

"Did you even feel anything for me? Besides our red string of Fate appearing?"

The marks on your wrists flowed in warning, searing hot pain flashed across both of you. But you ignored it. The devil on your shoulder pushing you to break things with him.

"Tell me the words you and your father spoke about yesterday were a lie." You begged him.

He couldn't say it was, because the conversation yesterday was only filled with truths. He was so confused, so he stayed silent.

You laughed at him without any real meaning or humor. The light had gone out of your eyes. Noritoshi felt himself shiver at the sound of it.

"So it was all true. Did you like me for me? Or because I'm your so-called soulmate whom you forced yourself to “love”- pshhh not even love, probably to tolerate, for the sake of power?"

Noritoshi’s head felt unfocused and his palms were sweating.

“I’m just a fucking game to you huh Kamo?!” You were freely crying now. He winced at the use of his family name.

Noritoshi found that he couldn’t breathe properly, much less reply to you. He had never seen you like this. What’s worse is your intense fear, sorrow, and disgust towards him was radiating so strongly through your bond.

“No you’re not.” He could hardly get the words out with how hard he’s breathing. It actually felt like the red strings were tying themselves around his neck. You scoffed at him unbelievingly.

He trembled as he lifted both hands to cup your face, but you stepped out of his reach. His hands dropped.

"You liar. I don't want this. If you just want to use me for my body, and to use me for your gain and for your family's benefit only to toss me aside for other women, then I don't want it." You spoke hoarsely. Your entire body was stiff, hands cold and voice quivering.

Your bond was hanging by a thread. The emotions of pain and betrayal bleeding over and muddling the delicate bond.

"I'm out. Go find some other bitch to breed for your sake of your precious heirs. I don't care if we are a fated pair. If you don't wanna put even an ounce of trust and honesty into our relationship then just fuck off." You turned around and walked away.

"Wait, no I-" Noritoshi gasped out as he snapped out of his shock, but you didn't turn back. You walked faster trying to ignore the voice you loved hearing so much.

Even if it hurts to break apart from him now, it is better than to have your heart broken again and again by staying with him.

"Y/n I do care about you. I do think of you everyday. You’re not a game to me. Didn't you hear what I said yesterday?" He called out desperately, stepping forward.

You ignored him, digging your nails into the palms of your hands at the pain from your soulbond falling apart. 'I won't be fooled any longer'.

Your bond was screaming at you to turn around and believe him. To believe that everything you've felt with him these past few weeks were real. That he truly loved you.

"Listen to me!" Noritoshi cried out.

You halted in your tracks. "I'm nothing to you. If you want to have other women as your concubines, go ahead. I know you can pick up as many women as you want with your standing. You clearly don’t need me. So I don't need you." Your last 4 words are a harsh slap to his face.

Snap. And your bond was left barely hanging with the smallest red thread that stubbornly refused to let go. But the damage was done. He couldn't feel your emotions anymore as his head filled with white noise.

Panic overcame Noritoshi like never before. This wasn’t like his normal self. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, but to run and pull you back in his arms.

Until he was physically stopped by an invisible barrier. Your solid air barrier that blocks all sound and forms of matter on the other side, keeping him away from you.

“No, no, no, no. Y/n Come back! I’m sorry! Speak to me!” He cried, furiously pounding at the invisible wall between the both of you. But you couldn’t hear him, much less know how he is feeling. After all, you’ve ended it with him already.

After you left, he remained rooted to his spot. His forehead leaning against the barrier, tears streaming down his face, as he stared at the place where he saw your figure disappear. It wasn't long ago that he had just fallen in love with you.

Your warmth, your laughter, the touches you give to him. Now everything felt so cold. "But I need you." He whispered out, sounding so broken.

The last few wilted leaves of the plum tree fell, leaving it bare to the cold winter. He remembered the words in the soulmate records of the Gojo Clan. “A soulbond can be rejected.”

Maybe he should have told you everything from the beginning and not hold back any secrets. He was terrified that your opinion of him would change, if you found out about his background and his mother. So he wanted to slowly ease you into the Kamo clan.

This was the worst.

As the sky grew dark, he went back into his room and for the first time, didn't bother studying. Just went straight to sleep.

What he wouldn't give to feel anything from your end. Even if it was anger or hatred, it would be better than this empty feeling.

Author's Notes: This chapter was the first chapter I've written before all others and is how Blood Bound came to be. You could say this is the core of the story, since it's the origin. Just had an angsty afternoon one day and chose violence🥰🤧

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[wesawbears]

Happy summer exchange season! This is for @autumnalpalmetto, who asked for Andrew friendship with the rest of the Foxes/Andreil for the @aftgexchange event.

I hope you enjoy!

--

At first, Andrew suspected it was just a bad day. A heaviness in his head, a fog that made him pay less attention to practice than normal. He brushed both Neil’s concern and Kevin’s anger off in equal measure, just wanting to get back to his room and sleep for the rest of the day.

Neil didn’t comment when he burrowed beneath his blankets and didn’t talk for the rest of the night. The junkie eventually left him to sleep and watched games with Kevin in his room, but Andrew could feel his eyes on him as he walked away. At the moment, he was too tired to muster up the energy to feel bad about pushing him away. Neil could handle Andrew’s moods.

His bad day theory was proven wrong when he woke up with a throbbing headache. He sits up, only to find the world was tilting a little bit. Groaning, he lays back down. “Fuck.”

Neil, insufferable morning person that he is, is already up and back from a run. Andrew can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. The noise is for Andrew’s benefit; he knows if he wanted to Neil could do his whole morning routine in near silence, so used to being unseen. But he doesn’t want to startle Andrew. It’s as annoyingly considerate as it is unnecessary.

 He also knows without seeing that Neil’s getting two mugs of coffee, one for Andrew to wake him up before Neil goes to his 9:00 class, like he does every Thursday. “Don’t bother,” he tries to yell, but his voice comes out a thin, papery rasp.

Neil comes into the room then, before stopping short at the door. “You look like shit.”

“I’m not sick,” he says immediately.

“I’ll make you some tea,” Neil answers, turning on his heel and heading back into the kitchen.

“I don’t like tea,”

“Can’t hear you. I’m in the kitchen.”

Andrew wants to scream, but can’t muster the energy, so he just settles back against the headboard and closes his eyes.

A few minutes later, Neil is there, handing him a thermos of tea. He can barely taste it, which is ideal, but he can tell Neil put a truly obscene amount of honey in it. His throat still feels like it’s been shredded when he swallows, but he hides his grimace. 

At least, he thinks he does. Neil’s face says otherwise. Or maybe Neil is just obnoxiously good at reading him.

“Shut up,” he rasps.

“Didn’t say anything,” Neil quips back.

“Your face speaks volumes.”

Neil smiles like it’s a love confession. “I’ll tell Coach you won’t be at practice.”

“Letting me play hooky, captain?”

“It’s a liability if you pass out. Lots of paperwork.” His face softens then. “I’ll come check on you later.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know.”

Andrew doesn’t know if it’s being sick, or the discomfiting feeling of being...looked after that makes him feel like heaving, but he shuts his eyes in an effort to make it leave. He hears the click of the door shutting as Neil leaves and breathes out.

--

Kevin gets back from his own class about an hour later, and Andrew wakes at the sound of the door opening.

. “Neil was right- you do look like shit.”

“Unlike with Neil, I will throw this thermos at your head.”

Apparently it didn’t come across with the bite Andrew had intended, because Kevin just scoffs and throws something at him.

“Cold medicine?” 

Kevin shrugs. “You’re too stubborn to take it on your own. So I’ll just stand here until that happens.”

He swallows the pills with the last drops of tea, wincing as they scrape his throat. “Did Neil put you up to this?”

“You think Neil would think of using medicine? I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never heard of cold medicine.”

Andrew grunts in assent, turning the thought over as Kevin retreats into his bedroom. If Neil didn’t put him up to it, Andrew doesn’t know what sparked Kevin’s sudden concern for his wellbeing. It was a cold. He wasn’t dying. 

He had half convinced himself it was all a fever dream when he heard a knock. “Who’sit?”

The person didn’t bother answering, opening the door where Kevin had left it unlocked. 

Andrew purses his lips. “I didn’t know a cold would turn my room into fucking Grand Central.”

“Relax. I’ll be gone in like two minutes.”

He watches as Aaron walks past him to the kitchen. “Nicky got you ice cream, even though I told him that dairy just makes sore throats worse. He wanted to bring it himself, but I told him the last thing you would want was him buzzing around.  Here are some crackers if you get hungry.”

He was gone as soon as he’d arrived, and Andrew settles back under his blankets for a nap. When he wakes to a soft knock at the door, he glances at his phone and sees it’s close to dinner time.

“It’s me,” he hears, and recognizes Renee’s voice. “I’ll only be a minute.”

He thinks he mumbles, “Come in”. 

“I brought you some soup, when you’re feeling up to it. And Dan, Allison, and Matt offered some of their DVDs in case you get bored. Allison says that bad movies are the best cure for a cold.”

He hums at that. “I think most doctors would disagree.”

Renee chuckles lightly at that. “Yes, well. They’re trying.”

He doesn’t know whether he wants to ask why. It seems a pointless question. “They know I probably wouldn’t do the same for them.”

Renee smiles. “They know. But I don’t suspect that that’s why they’re doing this.” She pauses at the door, evidently not expecting an answer. “Feel better, Andrew.”

--

Neil makes his reappearance shortly after that, once he’s done ending his day running drills with the freshmen strikers. 

“You missed quite the parade in here,” Andrew greets him.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, making his way up to the loft.

“Yes. Kept me from taking the nap I wanted.”

“I don’t know. You looked pretty dead to the world when I came in earlier to check on you.”

“Well, I didn’t have to keep up with you running your mouth. That preserves energy.”

“You like my mouth,” Neil smirks, leaning in and stopping short of his mouth. “Yes?”

“You’ll get sick.”

“I don’t care. We have plenty of provisions.”

Andrew closes the gap with a short kiss. “I’m not sharing my soup. Or my ice cream.”

“Rude.”

Andrew doesn’t have the energy to deal with the look on Neil’s face, so he pushes his face away lightly. “That’s it for tonight.”

“Do you want me to sleep in my bed?” 

From anyone else, it would come across petulant, but Andrew knows Neil means it. He also doesn’t have the energy to parse through the jolt that goes through him at the idea of Neil not being next to him.

Instead of voicing that, he shrugs. “Don’t whine when you get sick.”

Neil doesn’t answer, simply settling in next to him.

Andrew closes his eyes. “And don’t keep me awake with your staring.”

“Go to sleep, Andrew.”

He drifts off to the feeling of Neil’s hand in his hair, and the warmth of his body next to him. He knows the comfort won’t last, and he won’t always be okay with this,  but for now, it’s enough.

[mochegato]

Hope on Board

Chapter 9 – Making it Official

Chapter 1     Chapter 8

“What the fuck is with all the stunts?” Red Hood griped, landing his punch on the fourth of Scarecrow’s henchmen in the last minute.  Luckily, this area of the hospital gave them enough room to maneuver.  Unluckily, the pharmacy where the rest of Scarecrow’s henchmen were barricaded had entirely glass walls.  Good to get in.  Bad for stealth.  The henchmen inside knew they were coming, but then again so did the hostages.

“What do you mean?” Nightwing asked innocently landing his triple flip on top of a henchman and using his momentum to swing into the man next to him, knocking him out as well.  He bounced from that to spin into a punch, the velocity from the spin adding force behind the punch, making it powerful enough to break the henchman’s jaw. He surreptitiously glanced at the hostages before ducking the haymaker thrown by another henchman.

“He means you’re being extremely extra right now.  Wait… oh my God!  Which one is she?” Signal exclaimed, excitedly searching the hostages while he kicked one henchman in the chest hard enough to send them into a far wall, dodging another’s punch to punch him back in his unprotected side.

“The baby mama is in there?” Red Hood cut in.  “Which one is she?”

“Hood!  Not having this conversation right now,” Nightwing reprimanded sternly.

“Oh, calm down.  All these guys are out,” Hood dismissed him.

“But the extensive amounts of surveillance cameras are not,” Nightwing hissed out.

Red Hood rolled his eyes. “Oracle?”

“On it.  Five seconds of video gone,” Oracle’s voice sounded over the coms.

“Thank you,” Nightwing sighed.

“Okay, now that that’s taken care of, let’s go save your baby mama,” Signal responded with a grin before jumping through the window at the far side of the room, as far away from the hostages as possible, tackling two of the henchmen in the process.

“Back away or I start shooting with this one,” the lead henchman growled, holding a gun to Marinette’s head.

Nightwing froze.  His eyes widened in panic.  Red Hood and Signal took note of Nightwing’s response and quickly turned from laidback to tense.  “Alright, calm down.  Think about this.  You shoot her, I shoot you,” Red Hood snarled.  “Only I won’t kill you right away.  I’ll do it slow and painfully.  One shot at a time in the most pain inducing spots possible.  Believe me when I say I know all of them.”  The henchman looked over to the other vigilantes discretely. “They won’t stop me.  I promise you.”

Signal nodded slightly to show his agreement without taking his eyes off the other five henchmen in the room.  Three of which were standing in front of the other hostages.  The other two were shoveling the last of the drugs they came for in their bags.

The lead henchman narrowed his eyes and pushed the gun harder against Marinette’s temple.  She swallowed a whimper of pain, refusing to give him that satisfaction.  “Sounds like she’s important to you then.  So it seems like as long as I have her, I have my escape,” he jeered back at Hood.

Hood growled in response, but made no move to get closer.  Marinette’s mind was reeling.  This was now a standoff and she was the keystone.  Someone had to do something.  Maybe if they could get away from the other hostages she could do something… she just needed to figure out a plan, which would be significantly easier if she was familiar with the bats and how they usually thought and acted.  She would use her nausea to throw up on him if she didn’t think he would just shoot her for it.

“Boys, grab a hostage and let’s go,” the lead hostage commanded.

Damn it!  She no longer had time.  She needed to act.  Some of those hostages wouldn’t be able to move and there were children in the group. She stuffed down her fear.  She felt nothing.  She was empty.  Except she wasn’t she had a baby now, she wasn’t just risking herself, she was risking the baby too so she couldn’t just fight and take the attention all onto herself. She needed a diversion.  She sent a furtive look to her purse on the far side of the pharmacy and made eye contact with Tikki.  She gave a slow nod and watched Tikki fly off to one of the racks of drugs.  She tensed in anticipation.  

She waited for the sound of whatever she was going to do and acted as soon as she heard it.  She only spared a second to note a rack of drugs falling over taking out one of the henchmen.  Having expected it, she recovered considerably quicker than the rest of the people in the room.  She used the lead henchman’s momentary lack of attention to grab the hand holding the gun against her head and push it past her head while twisting under his arm to shove him toward the vigilantes.  She yanked the gun out of his hand as she shoved him.

She took a second to take stock of the situation.  Four henchmen left.  All had dropped their bags of drugs to focus on getting out alive.  Two headed for the vigilantes.  One headed for the henchman under the rack, must be a friend or relative, she thought vaguely.  It was the fourth that concerned her though.  He was heading for the little girl tucked into her father’s side, probably still seeking a hostage to get away safely.  She turned the safety on the gun, or at least that’s what she hoped she did, and threw it at his head as hard as she could.  

The gun made contact, offsetting his balance.  He struggled to recover and Marinette slid into his legs in a heroically miscalculated gesture.  He fell back instead of forward and landing with his legs on Marinette.  She had enough time to curl into a ball protecting her stomach before he kicked her in anger, the impact pushed all the air out of her lungs.  She felt the pain radiate throughout her back.

“You fucking bitc…” he never got the chance to finish his insult.  Nightwing’s hand was on his throat lifting him up and away from her in an instant.  Marinette looked up in awe for a moment and scrambled back over to the other hostages to make sure they were okay.  Within a few minutes, the room was flooded with police and the henchmen had been hauled away and were getting put into police transports while the hostages were brought out into the atrium of the hospital to wait to give their statements.

Red Hood helped Marinette up gently and personally guided her out to the atrium after all the other hostages had been led out.  “Thanks for the help back there.  Impressive job keeping calm and taking advantage of the distraction.”

Marinette hummed. “Thank you guys for saving us. You were very intimidating.”

Jason hummed back. “Yeah, I’m good for that.  I’m the bad boy of the bat boy band.  Now, interesting use of a gun and all, and I’m really glad it worked, but why, and I can’t stress this enough, the fuck didn’t you just shoot him?” Hood asked bemused.

“I’ve never fired a gun. He was between me and the hostages.  If I missed, I might have hit one of the hostages.  I’m better at throwing.  I knew I wouldn’t miss if I threw it,” she shrugged, still catching her breath.  “If I couldn’t get to him after the hit, I knew one of you would.”

Red Hood nodded in contemplation.  “Solid reasoning.  I’ll go with that.  Remind me to teach you to shoot someday.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.  Next time I see you, we’ll set it up,” she said dismissively and let out a strained chuckle.  

Red Hood grinned.  “I’m going to hold you to that.”

Marinette nodded slightly, her face took on a look of concentration and she started breathing deeply again.

“Woah, wait.  That’s her?” Duke exclaimed, peeking around the corner to take a look.  “Damn, you did good.”  He repositioned so he could properly size her up without being too obvious.  At which point, she promptly turned to a trash can and threw up.  He wrinkled his nose in disgust.  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“She has really bad morning sickness.  Shut it.” Nightwing growled, handing off the last henchman to the police.  

“And that’s why I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see that,” Signal explained like he was explaining to a child.

Nightwing huffed at him and quickly moved over to check on Marinette.  He reached out to rub her back like he would normally, but pulled his arms back at the last second.  That was too familiar for him right now and she might not appreciate a stranger touching her.  Plus he didn’t know how hard the guy had hit her.  Her back might be bruised for a while.  He would have to check it out later.  “Are you alright, miss?”

“Miss,” Red Hood mocked him quietly, but made sure the coms could catch it as he followed the police cars taking the henchmen they had captured to prison.

Nightwing looked up to glare in his direction but didn’t respond.  “It’s okay.  I’m not contagious.  I’m just pregnant.”  She waved his concern away before moving toward a bench to sit.  

Nightwing helped her sit with a charming smile.  “Congratulations.  I’m sure you and your boyfriend are very excited.  But, are you alright after being held captive?  How is your back?”  His voice got nervous seeing her react by cocking her head to the side for a second before frowning and turning away.  “…Are you not?” he asked carefully.

“Hm?” she hummed in question. She looked back up at him with a confused scowl before the realization spread across her face.  “Oh!  No, yes. Yes I’m fine, or will be and I think I’ll just have bruises, nothing broken and we’re very excited.”  She gently laid her hand on her belly.  “I just realized I don’t know what we are.  We haven’t had that discussion.  Ugh.  I need to lay down for a second.  Excuse me.” She walked herself back down until she was lying flat on the bench with her eyes closed and breathing deeply.

“Of course, sorry miss,” Nightwing responded awkwardly.  He just realized he thought of her as his girlfriend, but they hadn’t discussed their relationship at all.  They knew they wanted to parent together, but not how they wanted their relationship to go or where they were.  He was fine with letting the relationship progress naturally without titles, but she might want something more concrete.

“It’s okay.  At least this suffering is productive.  I’m going to get something amazing out of it.” She offered him a weak smile without opening her eyes and returned to breathing deeply.  

He smiled gently and answered quietly.  “That’s a good way to think about it.”  He wanted to brush her hair out of her eyes and kiss her, but he reminded himself he couldn’t.  He backed off to check on the other victims, glancing back to her every few minutes. She had finally sat back up and her eyes were now open, but that hurt more.  Instead of the bright, hopeful eyes he was used to, they now looked pained.

He wanted to hold her so badly it physically hurt to hold back.  But he couldn’t do anything, not right now, not like this.  He wasn’t her boyfriend right now.  He wasn’t Dick Grayson, he was Nightwing, who she’d only just met.  The distance grated on him.  It burned his chest.  He needed to leave.  He wouldn’t be able to stay this close to her for much longer without hugging her and comforting her.  If his eyes caught on her unsettled, worried eyes one more time, he was going to slip.

He clenched his fists and set his jaw.  He had to act now.  He looked over to Signal, catching his eye and nodding to him.  Signal nodded back in understanding.  Nightwing snuck out past the police and grappled a few buildings away.  He tucked himself behind a half wall and changed back into his civilian clothes. “Hood can you please grab my stuff on your way back?” he called over the coms.

“What am I?  Your errand boy?” He groused.

“Please, Hood.”  The vulnerability in his voice was so potent, Hood felt guilty teasing him any further.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

“Thank you,” he called as he ran back to the hospital.  “Marinette!” Dick yelled pushing his way through the people standing around waiting for the police to take their statements and let them leave.

“Dick!��� Marinette leapt up from her seat and ran to him, jumping into his arms.

Dick held her tightly, cradling her in his arms and stroking her hair.  He’d known she was fine.  He had just been there not a few minutes before speaking with her about her and the baby.  He knew she was fine, but holding her in his arms was different.  He hadn’t realized how fast his heart had been pounding until it started returning to a normal pace with her in his arms.

“How did you know?” she mumbled into his neck.

“You had an appointment here a little bit ago and weren’t answering your phone,” Dick explained, pulling away to check her over.  He needed to see for himself she was okay.  He patted down her arms and legs and ran his hands over her chest and belly, reassuring himself she was fine before he finally let out the breath he had been holding.

“If you wanted to feel me up, I’m sure we could find an empty office,” she smirked at him.  

He spluttered a bit and blushed.  “I wanted to see for myself that you were okay.”  He pulled her back into his arms and buried his head in her neck, breathing in her scent.  He kept her in his arms for a few minutes before speaking again.  “I’m going to have to give a new answer for my favorite hero from now on,” he chuckled.

Marinette froze and pulled away, fear evident in her eyes.  “What?”

“After your heroics earlier. I have a new hero.”  He looked at her with mock awe.  She rolled her eyes and pushed his face away, but stayed firmly in his arms, still too dazed to think about what he had said.  “You’ve met the Gotham heroes now.  Ready to change your favorite?”

“I did mention the very many times Chat saved my life, right?” She reminded him with a strained voice, playing along with the attempt to lighten the atmosphere, but only just.

“But Nightwing saved your baby.  Chat can’t say that,” Dick pointed out with a grin, playing up the joke, but it had the opposite effect.  Both of their faces went slack at the comment.  She launched herself deeper into his arms as tears started falling.  He tightened his arms around her.  “I was so worried about you.”  He pulled away just far enough to cup her face and stare in her eyes.  “I was scared I wouldn’t get to see you again or you’d get hurt or lose the baby.  What were you thinking?”  

“I… I was thinking once they took them hostage, someone was going to die, maybe all of us.  I was thinking there were people who couldn’t move well no matter how much they were threatened or hit.  The henchmen weren’t going to put up with that.  And there were kids that could be easy hostages.  I couldn’t let them take them.  I had to do something.  There was an opportunity to do something and I could.  Someone had to.  The bats couldn’t without me getting hurt so it had to be me.”

Dick’s heart clenched tighter.  He understood that motivation.  They all did. That was one of the reasons they did what they did.  They couldn’t just not help if they had the ability to do so.  And he understood why it had to be her.  But at the same time, he couldn’t watch her in danger like that. His heart stopped when the henchman she hit turned to attack her.  And when the man had a gun to her head…  He laid his forehead on hers and squeezed his eyes shut.  All the panic and fear he had pushed down in order to function came to the surface and the tears started falling.  “Please don’t… please don’t do that again.  I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you, either one of you.”

“Hey, hey,” she wiped away her tears to gently bring his face up to hers and give him a hopefully convincing calm look.  “It’s okay. I’m okay.  Nightwing and Signal and Red Hood were here to protect me.  I mean, how could things go wrong?”

Dick’s face fell and he held her closer because he knew exactly how it could have gone wrong. All the many ways it could have gone wrong.  He’d already envisioned all of them, every unlikely, preposterous, ridiculous way it could have gone wrong, he’d pictured it.  “Marinette, stay with me tonight.  Just to cuddle.  Just so I can know you’re okay.” He rushed to add anticipating her reaction.  “I just… I want to know you’re okay.  Just so I can feel you in my arms.  If it’s too much…”

“Okay,” she interrupted, brushing his face with gentle fingers.

“Okay?”

The hopeful look in his eyes just about broke her heart.  She didn’t think she could deny him anything when he looked at her like that.  “Okay,” she confirmed.  “I’m still a bit shaken too.  I’d like to spend the night knowing you were right there with me, protecting me.”

He crashed his lips into hers and God, he wanted to deepen it.  He wanted to taste her, but he knew he couldn’t yet, not with her nausea as bad as it was.  He settled for gently biting her bottom lip and pulling on it.  She groaned into it.  He could feel her falter like she was holding herself back from more as well. He broke the kiss instead before either of them could do something that would make her sick.

He pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Okay, let’s get you home then.  Maybe we can pick up a snack for you on the way.  You hungry?”  When she nodded, he stood up and guided her out of the hospital.  “Commissioner Gordon?”  He waited for the man to respond before continuing.  “I’m going to take my girlfriend home now.  She’s in no state to give a statement right now.”

Commissioner Gordon raised an eyebrow.  “She looks fine to me.”

“She just threw up and she’s getting weaker.”  Dick motioned to the trash can she had used earlier.

“Sounds like she should stay in the hospital then and get checked out,” he commented critically.

“They can’t really do much more for morning sickness than we can at home,” Dick answered quietly.

Commissioner Gordon’s eyes bulged out and he looked down to her stomach and back up.  “Ah.  Okay. Make sure my officers have your information before you leave.  And congratulations to both of you.”

Marinette smiled weakly at him but Dick gave him a wide grin.  “Thank you.  We greatly appreciate it.  And we aren’t telling people yet, for obvious reasons so if you can keep it under wraps, I’d appreciate it.”  Commissioner Gordon nodded and waved them away.

They stopped to speak with an officer on their way out to make their way to a bakery nearby before heading to Dick’s car.  As soon as they were out of earshot of the people around Marinette finally spoke up. “So… girlfriend?”

Dick grinned down at her. “I was hoping so anyway.”  He stopped and cupped her face again so their eyes could meet.  “Marinette, I’m already picturing my life with you.  I already know I want you there in my life, which I realize is crazy because it’s so fast.  At the same time I know girlfriend doesn’t sound like much considering… everything…”

“Yes!”  Marinette kissed him again.  “That sounds perfect for where we are.  And… I’m already picturing my future with you and the baby too. I like those daydreams.”  She wrapped her arms around his neck with a tired look.  “Now how far exactly is this bakery?  I’d really like to just get back to your place and curl up on the couch with my boyfriend and some delivery and watch a terrible movie.”

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to cuddle into his side and led her into the bakery they were standing outside of.  “That sounds like a perfect night with my girlfriend.”

“Hey, Marinette’s boyfriend, next time you’re going to be disgustingly cutesy, turn your coms off,” Jason grumbled into the coms.  “We don’t need more people in the family throwing up.”

Chapter 10

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123

[shroomcult]

@soulxmakaweek

Day 4: Apologize

I fell way behind with Soma week because I got slammed with work and this monster of a fic took me too long to write.

Summary: 

Maka comes to realize that Soul had never felt fully comfortable around Crona, and in ignoring this entirely - she unknowingly hurt her closest friend.

Special thanks to Tori @chichirichick (she betas all of my dumpster fires, bless her) for proofreading this mess of emotions and also to Zi @azroazizah for coming up with the concept for this fic. 

**Disclaimer** This story is not about putting blame on Crona, but instead about acknowledging the fact that Soul went through trauma due to their actions and it was never taken into consideration by Maka before inviting them into their friend group. I'm not saying Crona didn't deserve support, but it's also completely valid for Soul - a victim of Crona - to not feel entirely safe around them regardless of their tragic background and circumstances. If Crona is a big comfort character for you and you feel you would likely be upset by this concept, then I recommend not reading it altogether. We all interpret things different and we're all entitled to our own opinions, and I'm not going to get in arguments with people over this.

It’d been a while since the Spartoi team was all together again.

After the fall of Asura, they really had no purpose to join forces as a team. No big baddie to unite them in ass-kickery. 

The skies were blue again. There were still Kishin eggs to take down, and a shaky new diplomatic relationship with the witches to maintain as well. 

Things were more or less … normal. Boring, even.

The only big difference Blackstar could discern was that nobody seemed to have time to just hang out and be friends anymore.

Kid was over his head with his new responsibilities, and while he was doing an admirable job filling his father’s shoes; there was a steep learning curve and his perfectionist tendencies only made it more challenging to overcome. He upheld a calm and collected demeanor in the public’s eyes, but Liz and Patty spent most of their time holding him together behind the scenes. 

Soul and Maka were a different situation entirely.

It was odd enough to adjust to the recent change in the nature of their relationship. They claimed to be the same as they’ve always been - just Soul & Maka. Only, they grew much closer after the hardships they had endured both in the book of Eibon and on the moon.

They had been close to begin with, but this was a different kind of close. Stolen glances, hands reaching for each other when they thought nobody was looking. Blushing for almost no damn reason. 

Something was going on between them - he could be sure of that.

More recently, however, Maka had been particularly obsessive about solving the dilemma of Crona’s entrapment on the moon. She was driving herself to a slow-burning insanity, considering every moment that she hadn’t rescued them yet to be a personal failure.

She’d been spending much of her time in the restricted section of the library, consuming every piece of relevant research for hours on end. Soul often stayed up there with her doing the same, or at the very least keeping her silent company when he was too burnt out to read anymore.

He’d also spent much of his extra time with Stein, training to perfect his sound-wave abilities into his own form of wavelength attack.

He’d been giving his all ever since making deathscythe status to hone his strength and better serve Maka. He’d even been able to hold his own for a surprising amount of time in the sparring ring against Blackstar, and that was a feat in and of itself.

All of the focus on Crona’s rescue had appeared to be wearing on him, though. 

Soul may have accepted Crona into his friend group for Maka’s sake, even empathized with them - but he had never fully trusted the demon sword meister. Although Soul was outwardly friendly towards them, Blackstar noticed the way his friend had watched them like a hawk before they turned back to Medusa. He was always ready for a scenario like that because he had never felt entirely safe around them to begin with.

Not that Maka had bothered to even take Soul’s feelings into consideration before forgiving Crona on his behalf.

She couldn’t have possibly been that dense. She had to have been actively ignoring the signs of Soul’s discomfort because she couldn’t handle acknowledging them.

And now she was doing the same thing all over again even with Crona as far away as the moon. It was obvious that Soul was doing what he always did - shoving his own feelings aside in favor of Maka’s. The loyal mutt of a boy valued her wellbeing far above his own, that was for certain.

He just seemed so exhausted of it all now. Searching tirelessly with Maka for a solution that may not even exist took up much of his time and energy.  

He never had the time to shoot hoops or play video games like he used to, and Blackstar was far above begging for his attention. He stopped even bothering to ask him.

Just for one night though, by some divine luck - everybody was willing to clear their schedule to have a late night dinner at the most beloved and heart-attack inducing burger joint in town. 

Every member of Spartoi was crammed into the largest booth in the restaurant and their chatter was loud enough to fill the whole section. 

There were multiple conversations happening at a time, but Blackstar was zeroing in on Soul who had his chin resting on his palm and that stupid, dopey look he got on his face when he was proud of Maka. Yuck. Keep it in your pants, loverboy.

Maka was next to Soul, his arm stretched out behind her on the booth, while Ox engaged her in a fiery debate over god knows what across the table from her. Judging by the redness in baldy’s face - Maka was on the winning side. He really couldn’t understand Soul’s hard-on for a bossy know-it-all personality, but whatever floats his boat he supposed.  

He decided he’d seen enough of that look on his best friend’s face and crumpled up a straw wrapper, dipping it in his soda and sticking it at the end of his straw.

He blew on the other end, sending the sticky wad of paper flying across the table. The projectile hit its target directly on the cheek.

“Fuck’s sake dude, how old are you?” he grumbled, reaching over the table to grab a handful of napkins to clean his face off with.

Maka snatched some of his napkins for herself, rubbing it vigorously into the flecks of cola that stained her uniform. “You got my shirt all wet, idiot.”

Blackstar simply threw his head back to cackle obnoxiously. “I just thought I should break up your lame little debate team fight before Ox over here pops a blood vessel. You know he can’t handle losing well.”

“I wasn’t losing!” Ox hissed under his breath.

Maka only met her opponent’s glare with a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, Maka! What had you stopped to talk with Professor Stein about earlier today?” Tsubaki cut in, obviously attempting to diffuse another argument between the two competitive brainiacs.

Maka’s expression relaxed into something a little more neutral, seemingly caught off guard by the question. Debate-mode successfully disarmed.

“Oh. Well… I just had some questions about my black blood research for him.” 

Blackstar didn’t miss the way Soul tensed up beside her at the mention of black blood. His face was void of any distinct emotion, but something was off in his body language. The way his shoulders squared as if he were instinctively bristling.

Anyone with a shred of social awareness could have deduced that black blood, Medusa, and Crona were not Soul’s favorite topics. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down and discontinue any contributions to a conversation when any of these things were brought up. 

Unfortunately for Soul, all of those subjects were constantly on Maka’s mind since she began her obsessive pursuit for a solution to Crona’s ordeal.

“Oh? And what did he have to say?” Tsubaki pressed, completely oblivious to the tense situation she was potentially triggering.

“As you’re already aware, there’s not really any official research on the black blood that exists. We’ve been digging through countless books - gathering as much information about madness and Kishins as we can, but it can only get us so far. It would be so much more useful if we could get our hands on a physical sample of the substance itself.”

Soul’s eyes widened in concern, but only for a second before he slipped his usual poker face back on. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously despite the veneer of calm he displayed.

“Anyways,” she continued, turning to look at Soul, “I was going to talk to you about this later, but maybe some of the black blood still remains in your system? I know we believed it was all gone, but surely there’s some residual amount of it lingering behind? Something we could maybe isolate, extract and create a concentrate of? Stein said it was unlikely, but technically possible. We have to try for Crona, right, Soul?”

He was no longer wearing his mask of apathy. Unmistakeable, visible discomfort was etched into his facial features and he was clenching his hands, knuckles whitening from the pressure. Everyone at the table was hushed and the tension was palpable.

“He doesn’t have to try anything,” Kid’s voice cut sharply through the silence, golden eyes flashing sternly at her.

A soft gasp escaped her and her eyebrows shot up, clearly taken-aback by the sudden burst of hostility from her boss and close friend. Her eyes darkened seconds later, determination setting in.

 “I think that’s his decision to make, and I’d like to hear what he has to say,” she turned her attention back to Soul, hope still shining in her eyes.

He fidgeted with his necktie, loosening it and clearing his throat. “Yeah, s’fine. Whatever you need, I guess.”

Maka’s face lit up into a bright smile that turned Blackstar’s stomach and she pulled Soul into a brief hug. “I knew we could count on you, Soul! You’re the best partner ever.”

“Whatever, it’s no problem. Just try not to drain me of all my blood, alright?” he chuckled weakly, avoiding her eyes in favor of staring a hole in the middle of the table.

She gave an easygoing laugh in response, and went back to conversing with Tsubaki as if she hadn’t just pressured her partner into volunteering himself as a guinea pig for the sake of someone who had literally sliced him open from shoulder to hip and infected him with black blood to begin with.

Is she fucking serious?

Blackstar was practically vibrating with fury from the interaction he’d just watched, and Tsubaki’s normally soothing hand on his shoulder did little to calm him down. When he glanced at Kid, he instantly knew the death god had shared his frustration with Maka’s obliviousness. 

It wasn’t long before Soul abruptly stood from his place at the end of the booth, pulling a twenty out of his wallet and placing it on the table in front of him.

“Soul? What are you doing? The food hasn’t even gotten here yet,” Maka blinked at him in confusion.

“I’m not feelin’ too great - gonna head out, sorry guys. Could you just bring my food back in a to-go box?” he said with an apologetic quirk of his lips. He squeezed her shoulder gently before turning on his heels and making his way out of the diner in long strides.

Why does she look so shocked? Does she really not understand that she’s been hurting him?

After that, the night passed by in a haze for Blackstar. He hardly spoke for the rest of the meal due to the fact that he was using all of his mental capacity to keep his impulse to stand up and loudly call his friend out in front of everybody in check. 

The only thing truly stopping him was the knowledge that Soul would likely be embarrassed and more than a little pissed off if he’d made a big scene over something that he wasn’t even willing to talk about.  

So he waited - held his tongue until he could lash out in private.

As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Blackstar watched her rise from her seat gathering her to-go boxes carefully and giving him a nod of acknowledgement before she headed out.

His eyes bore into the back of her head as she left, and Tsubaki’s hand clamped gently on him for the second time that night. Her eyes were crinkled with a gentle concern.

“I think you should leave this between them. If Soul wanted all of this out in the open, he would have had that conversation with her himself.”

A heavy sigh settled in his chest, “You know how he is. He’s the suffer in silence type and he always does her bidding. If nobody says anything, then nothing’ll change. I just want to talk to her - not like I’m gonna beat her ass or anything … unless she gives me a reason to.” 

“Blackstar,” she chided, fully aware that he would make good on that threat.

“I know, I know. I won’t be long, see ya at home,” he said, throwing up placating hands before stuffing them in his pockets and striding in the direction Maka had gone. 

            _______________________________________________

Maka set her walk home at a leisurely pace, dragging her feet slightly as she watched the sunset bleed into the sky above.

It wasn’t that she was trying to prolong seeing Soul, or that she wasn’t worried about the way he’d acted back in the diner - like something was eating at him. 

She was pretty positive that he wasn’t physically ill, which only left the option of it being an emotional issue. 

And getting Soul to talk about emotional issues was like trying to pull teeth from a temperamental bear. 

She had to figure out a way to go about this delicately, and she had to figure it out soon because their apartment block was fast approaching.

She stopped in her tracks when she felt the presence of a familiar soul behind her. His steps had been so quiet, she wouldn’t have even been aware he was stalking her from behind if it weren’t for her exceptional soul perception abilities.

“I know you’re following me, Blackstar.”

In moments, he was stepping out in front of her. “Wasn’t trying to hide. I need to talk to you,” his voice was uncharacteristically stern.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew Blackstar had some kind of problem with her since dinner. He was deathly quiet and glowering at her for most of the night; very unusual behavior from someone who never shuts up or hesitates to start a fight. 

“Okay, I’m listening,” she said, already preparing to defend herself against whatever absurd argument he wanted to pull her into.

“The whole situation with Crona - have you ever once thought about how Soul feels about it?”

Whatever she had been expecting to come out of his mouth - that wasn’t it.

“What? I mean, I know how Soul feels. He wants Crona to be safe, just like I do. What are you trying to get at?”

“I’m not talking about what he thinks about Crona being stuck in the deathdamned moon, Maka! I mean have you ever thought about how he felt when you forced Crona into his life to begin with? After being sliced open?” 

Maka’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her mouth opened and closed a few times, baffled by the question. 

“Soul understands why I welcomed Crona as a friend. He trusts me,” she answered, hoping her voice conveyed the confidence that she couldn’t find in this moment.

This entire conversation was throwing her off.

“Yeah, okay. He accepted your decision because he trusts you, or loves you or whatever the fuck. We all know that - but that doesn’t mean he was comfortable with it. It doesn’t mean he felt safe. He just stuffed his own feelings down, because he knew it made it easier for you.”

Her throat tightened as her own conflicting emotions overcame her. He had no idea what he was talking about. Soul was fine. He’s always been fine. 

“Did he say that to you? That he didn’t feel safe?” she choked out. 

“Soul? You think he tells people things? About his feelings?” he snorted. “No, he doesn’t have to tell me shit. It’s clear on his face every time you mention Crona, or Medusa, or that fucking blood.”

“Maybe you’re just making assumptions about how he feels!” she shouted back, gripping handfuls of the front of his shirt.

He leaned in, completely unfazed by the rage burning in her eyes. “You ever noticed how when Crona was around, he was always watching them out of the corner of his eye - twitching every time they made some sudden move. You ever noticed how quiet and withdrawn he’d get around them? Or any time they were brought up? You didn’t - because you didn’t want to.” 

“Shut up! Y-you’re making something out of nothing. Are you trying to tell me that I should just give up and forget about Crona? That they don’t deserve to have a friend?” 

Some of his aggression was fizzling out as he released a heavy sigh, placing his hands calmly over hers, still clenching in his shirt. “I’m not trying to say that you shouldn’t have helped Crona, or that you shouldn’t keep trying to help them now. I’m only telling you that even if Soul has forgiven and moved on - he’s still a victim of Crona’s actions. He suffered trauma from that, even if he’s too fucking stubborn to admit it. Just acknowledge that maybe he needs a break from thinking about them - all of that shit that happened - every now and then. Get your head out of Crona’s ass long enough to check if he’s okay too.”

She stumbled over wordless sounds as her hands went limp and released their vice-grip on his clothing. She was trying desperately to think of a way to refute the awful things he was saying, but Blackstar wouldn’t give her the chance. 

“If you gave him even half the thought you gave to Crona - maybe you would have noticed it like everybody else has. I just want you to think about it for a bit, that’s all,” his voice softened towards the end, shoulders sagging slightly as he turned away, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his confrontation.

The heat of tears prickled behind her eyelids and she clenched her fists tightly to her sides. 

She wanted so badly to swing around and scream at Blackstar’s retreating figure that he was wrong, that he had no idea what he was talking about and of course she thinks about her weapon.

But the longer she allowed his harsh words to sink in; the more she could feel the sting of truth settling into her heart.

Had she really been so blind? 

             _______________________________________________

Soul had been laying on his back in bed, hands resting on his stomach and eyes pointed at the ceiling, unmoving for some time. He wasn’t entirely sure how many hours, but he knew his playlist had ended long ago - no music played from the earbuds that were still jammed in his ears.

He couldn’t explain the heaviness in his heart. The anxiety that often set in whenever Maka mentioned Crona or the black blood. It was all water under the bridge, wasn’t it? There was no point in allowing himself to wallow in all the negative emotions that punched him in the gut at the mention of their name. It was selfish to feel those things - it was his job to give Maka his full support. His own feelings were irrelevant.

It was just harder on this particular night. Sure, she droned on about those sore subjects often. Their research revolved around it anyways. He’d just hoped that it could have been different just for one night.

He’d secretly been ecstatic when Maka begrudgingly agreed to shelve her research just long enough to get a late dinner with all of their friends. A break had been long overdue. 

Things had been different between them, after all. They’d been sharing a bed, and they’d even shared a few kisses in the small, rare moments that they’d spent alone together - focused only on each other. They were chaste kisses, but he’d greedily take whatever he could get. 

As she became more frantic about her lack of results in helping Crona, he may as well have not even existed to her. 

He’d just needed that one dinner to pretend things were normal, to pretend as though he was on a date with her and she was willing to spend time with him and think about literally anything aside from her latest fixations. Instead, she’d asked him to play part in some unsound experiment - to prod for things that he hadn’t wanted to find again. It had only been made more uncomfortable by the scrutinizing presence of all of their friends. 

He’d felt used.

Soul perked up at the familiar sound of the front door creaking open and slamming shut. He was immediately ashamed of the pavlovian response he had to the sound of his meister returning - the little flip in his heart that made him feel like a stupid dog wagging its tail at the sound of its master.

Just keep to yourself. She doesn’t need to interact with you in this useless state of self pity. You don’t deserve her comfort.

Self-loathing curled in his gut and he kept his eyes stubbornly trained on a water stain in the ceiling.

Suddenly, light flooded into his dark room as his door was hesitantly opened. He reflexively brought himself to sit up on his elbows only to meet a teary-eyed Maka.

All self-indulgent angsty thoughts instantly evaporated from his head, and he was ripping his earbuds out and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to get up.

She made purposeful steps across his room, throwing her arms around his neck and forcing him back onto the bed with the motion.

“I’m so sorry, Soul,” she warbled mournfully into his sweater. 

“Huh? Sorry ‘bout what? What’s going on, Maka?” he tried to nudge her into looking up at him, but she adamantly refused.

She took a few shallow breaths before rubbing her wet cheek against the quickly-dampening fabric and looking up at him with dewy eyes.

“I haven’t been a good friend to you - have I? 

Was that a trick question?

“I-I don’t get what we’re talkin’ about here,” he stuttered uselessly, attempting to compensate for his lack of eloquence by brushing his fingers comfortingly through her soft hair.

“I never asked if you felt okay with Crona being around you. I never asked you if you forgave them at all - I just brought them into your space, your home. I just wanted them to have a chance at a normal life so badly - I ignored your pain, and I’m so sorry,” she rushed her confession out like it had been a breath she was holding in.

He had to fight the urge to bark out a laugh. It wasn’t that he found anything that she said humorous - it was just so strange that she was addressing this out of the blue. She’d seemed completely unaware as usual back at the diner, where had this even come from?

He was so lost in thought, he’d almost forgotten to respond and instantly regretted the prolonged silence he’d left her in. “Maka, it’s fine,” he insisted, “I get why you forgave Crona. I admire you for it.”

“But that doesn’t mean you were okay. I should have at least checked on you, or asked you about how you felt - or literally anything,’ she mumbled numbly from his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” he said, lifting her cheek from its resting place against his sweater, “Sure, I didn’t feel the most comfortable around Crona. I think it was pretty awkward for both of us to be near each other. That doesn’t mean I dislike them, or didn’t want you to be their friend. You can’t beat yourself up over something I hadn’t bothered to tell you.”

His words hadn’t brought the comfort that he’d hoped they would, and her brows remained stubbornly crinkled. “If it had been me - if I was the one who’d been cut by that sword, would you still say that you don’t dislike them? That you’re okay with us being friends?”

It was a question that he instantly knew the answer to, but he was reluctant to say it out loud. He finally caved, bringing his eyes back to hers, “No. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive them if it was you.”

She closed her eyes tightly, nodding her head in grim acceptance of that truth. She had likely known that would be his answer already, but hearing it must have been difficult.

“But I love that about you. You have so much compassion. I only care for the few people that I’ve decided I love - I don’t have room in my heart for others like you do. I’d like to be more like you,” he whispered reverently, taking her cheeks in both of his hands and briskly wiping away all of the moisture he could reach with his thumbs.

“I should’ve had more compassion for you,” she lamented softly under her breath, eyes downcast.

“You’re not a fuckin’ mind reader, Maks. It was my choice not to bring anything up.”

She nodded slowly, but the way her grip tightened on him only confirmed his suspicion that she wasn’t going to forgive herself for it.

Minutes passed before a word was spoken, but Soul eventually cleared his throat. “You know, I don’t expect you to ever stop being friends with Crona, or to give up on rescuing them. I don’t want that. I don’t mind helping you like you’d asked earlier tonight, too. If that’s what you need from me, then I’m here.”

She brought herself to her elbows on top of him to get a better view of his face.

“I know. I’m not going to give up on them. But It matters to me that you’re happy too, and if that means you need a break from all that, then I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for that.”

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” he said in a hushed tone, distracting himself with a piece of her hair twirled between his fingers.

“And I don’t want to use your blood for research. It was wrong of me to even think of asking you that. We’ll find another way,” she assured him, voice tightening with emotion, “I definitely got carried away with all of this. It wasn’t healthy, and I really am sorry I’ve pushed you away in the process. We can’t solve this thing if we don’t have time to properly take care of ourselves. You’ve been working so hard with me, and I think we need more actual quality time together.”

“Yeah, I could get on board with that. I kinda walked out on dinner tonight, so how about we do something - just you and me tomorrow? Movies sound good?”

“Movies sounds great,” she hummed in agreement, hands idly playing with his hair.

As much as he would have preferred for her to continue her ministrations, he stopped her movements to grasp her hand, bringing it to his chest to rest above where she knew his scar was. He pressed down on her hand lightly.

“I’m glad it happened. I’m glad they gutted me, ‘cause I hadn’t understood what you meant to me till that moment,” he muttered, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head.

She only exhaled shakily, hand tightening against the evidence of his devotion.

“I just hate that it took a lecture from Blackstar of all people for me to realize that I’d been hurting you.”

His eyes widened a little at that new piece of information. Blackstar was the one that brought all of this on her mind? He could’ve sworn it would have been Kid if anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a little touched that Blackstar had been so concerned about him, but he was also somewhat irritated that his friend had distressed Maka as much as he had.

“Blackstar, huh? Remind me to have a conversation with him about mindin’ his own business,” he laughed half-heartedly.

“No, don’t. I’m glad that he said what he did - I needed to hear it,” she urged him.

“Doesn’t matter. He didn’t have to make my girlfriend cry from guilt over bein’ friends with someone,” he muttered, but his face immediately burned a bright red as soon as he’d caught what he’d called her.

She was a similar shade, holding her breath as well as his gaze with a tortuously difficult to decipher expression on her face.

“That is, uh- I mean… fuck.”  

Very articulate. Great job, Soul.

He hadn’t needed to agonize over whether or not he’d just fucked everything between them for long because her face soon melted into a warm, genuine smile.

“Girlfriend, huh?” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.

“I’d like that. If that’s w-what you want,” he wanted to kick himself for the voice crack he just experienced. Not cool in the slightest. 

At least she got a good giggle out of it. The melodic sound squeezed something in his chest and he swallowed nervously as a response.

She brushed back his bangs, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his forehead. She peppered a trail of kisses down his cheek until she reached his lips. 

This kiss was far from chaste. She cradled his cheek and jaw as she slanted her mouth sweetly over his, pressing fervently, constantly moving against him and eliciting a breathy moan from him that he would never admit to making. 

When she tried to separate, he followed her, bumping noses for a moment and giving the corner of her mouth a few more enthusiastic pecks before backing up and allowing her room to look at his face. 

“Girlfriend sounds nice, actually,” she smiled broadly, letting her fingers brush against the back of his neck.

“Glad that’s settled, then,” he laughed easily, not even bothering to feel any embarrassment over the flush of his skin or the lightness of his breath.

He crushed her to his chest, and they stayed like that for a while, just listening to the other’s loudly beating hearts until they were lulled to sleep. 

He’d have to thank Blackstar with a game of basketball later.

[wri0thesley]

Hi! Hope you're doing well! Please could I request La Squadra's reactions to making their S/O's tummy bulge when they fuck? Especially Risotto because oh boy he's BIG. Also the praise the members would give their partner for taking them so well. Thank you!

NOT SFW/18+ ONLY

Risotto is used to it at this point, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy it; in fact, he’s likely to choose positions where it’s more visible. He especially loves having you ride him on top, and slowly lower yourself onto him - partly because he gets to watch, partly because he loves how going so slowly makes you feel things that much more intensely. When you’re fully seated, his hand curves over your stomach, pushing just a little against the bulge - he doesn’t need to say much more than that, and he’s not particularly verbose when it comes to sex anyway. At most, you’ll get a smirk and a “this looks good inside you.”

Formaggio, on the other hand, does not shut up. Once he sees that he’s making your stomach bulge with every thrust of his hips, he can’t stop talking about it; you’ll get a running commentary of what a good job you’re doing, peppered with pet names. “Oh, sweetie pie, angel honey, look how big I am - you’re taking me so fucking well, doll, come on . . . Lemme just . . . A little bit faster, huh? Oh, baby--”

Illuso notices that your stomach is bulging but doesn’t say anything at first. He pulls out to rearrange you - probably so that you can see a mirror. This time, he has you lower yourself onto his lap, body facing outwards, hand tenderly caressing your face as he helps you breach the gap and, smug, whispers in your ear; “Watch yourself, tesoro . . . do you see that?” His hand, too, slides over your stomach where the bulge is making itself apparent. “Look how good I look inside you . . . look how well you’re taking me. Keep your eyes on it, whilst I move--”

Prosciutto notices it and smirks. He’s not louche enough to bring your attention to it himself; he wants you to notice it, and be embarrassed and flushed and also proud of it. So, he amps up the words. He’s always been good at wording things prettily, his voice low and cigarette-raspy, as he talks to you about how good you are, how nicely you take him, how snug and tight and hot you feel around him - and if, in his whispers, he looks down knowingly at your bulge and you also see it . . . well, it doesn’t count if he didn’t mention it directly, does it? 

Pesci’s too flustered to say anything, even if he notices it. He’s already whimpering out sweet things to you in between his messy thrusts, about how much he loves you and how good you feel, his hips snapping quickly against yours and a little bit unsurely. You’ll need to get him to slow down and really look, shy smile on your face as you whisper; “Pesci . . . Look, you’re so big--”. Unfortunately, this may very well be enough to tip him over the edge. 

Melone won’t be shy drawing attention to it; almost immediately, he’s purring down at you; “Amore, amore, look!”, really showing off - thrusting as deep in as he can go, shifting your body so it’s in the right position for the bulge to really be noticeable. He amps up his dirty talk considerably when he sees it - but that’s nothing compared to how filthy he’ll be if he manages to come inside you enough that the amount of his release inside you gives you a bump, too. In fact, he’s probably murmuring into your ear that that is what he’s going to do next. 

Ghiaccio almost doesn’t notice, as whenever he’s fucking you he’s usually jack-hammering at the speed of sound. Like Pesci, you’ll have to be the one to point it out (if you can manage to get any words out in between how quickly and hungrily Ghiaccio is thrusting into you) - when you do manage to draw his attention to it, his normally perfectly consistent pace falters as he drinks it in . . . and then, resumes at twice the normal intensity. His dirty talk, too, becomes meaner and sharper and more desperate - all about how you’re begging for his cock, how he knows you were made to be fucked like this, how he’s going to give you exactly what you need--

Sorbet & Gelato . . . Well. You can’t have one without the other, and they both love watching one another fuck you. The amount of care they spend doing that, it’s pretty much definitely going to be Sorbet drawing attention to Gelato making you bulge and vice versa. If it’s Gelato making your stomach bulge, Sorbet will tell him, very calm and soft, to look down - and, like Ghiaccio, the sight of it will drive Gelato a little wild, into an inspired frenzy to make you really feel every inch of his cock. In contrast, if Gelato points out Sorbet’s making your stomach bulge, Sorbet will slow down to a glacial pace. He really wants to make sure you see just how much your stomach is distending and feel every ridge and vein of his cock, intimately. He doesn’t talk - he likes listening to your heavy breathing as you take him. 

[cora-vizsla]

Hypnotic (Taking Over Me) - Epilogue

Here we are. The very very end. Thank you for all of you that have read this and given me motivation to write this story. It’s been one of my favorite to write!

Zara had never once regretted leaving the Jedi order. Living with Obi Wan had been more relaxing than either of them anticipated. They worked together to build the small cabin into more of a home. Other than their one trip to his old home, which was burned to nothing, they didn’t leave their own little paradise.

The only thing that Zara missed was Anakin. Mace had decided that it was best for Zara to stay away from him, so the last thing she heard from her best friend was that he hated her. It wasn’t something that she talked about, but it left her heart in pieces.

There were mornings where Obi Wan would wake up to her sitting alone on the porch. He knew that he couldn’t fix it for her, so he would just join her and sit in silence until she was ready to start their day. She would give him a soft smile and kiss on the cheek, a silent thank you for supporting her in the way she needed.

The day came when Obi Wan finally brought up her friend. He waited until she was done with her normal routine, gently grabbing her wrist before she could stand up.

“Darling, can we talk?”

She sat back down and nodded.

“I try not to bring up the past or push you to speak on things that upset you. I think we need to discuss Anakin.”

She sighed and slumped slightly.

“There isn’t much to talk about.”

“You have not told me what happened, other than leaving the order.”

“Nothing happened. I showed up there and he was taken away.”

“You never had the opportunity to talk about things?”

“The last thing he said to me was he feels nothing but hate for me.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I am so terribly sorry. What a terrible way to leave things. No wonder you’re hurting.”

She laughed humorlessly and crossed her arms.

“Says the man who hates an entire order of people.”

“I hardly waste the time on hating them, sweetheart. I may still find my power from the dark side, but I do not hate them. Not forgiving someone is entirely different from hating them.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You are more than forgiven, my love. Do you know where Anakin is now?”

“Last I heard he was on Naboo with Padme. I have no idea if he is still there. I don’t even know if he would see me.”

“Well, coming from someone who spent an exuberant amount of time not feeling any type of closure, I think it may warrant you going there to find out.”

She looked at him warily and shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

“I will go with you. We will go visit Naboo. If we find out that Anakin is there, you can decide if you want to see him or not.”

“Are you even allowed anywhere near Republic channels?”

“Of course, I am. Sidious never broadcasted he had an apprentice other than Darth Maul. There has never been a warrant out for my capture nor is there any evidence I did anything wrong. I doubt the Jedi Order would put a warrant out for someone traveling with their friend.”

Zara laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

“I’ll agree as long as you’re going and as long as I have the choice to see him or not.”

“When have I ever not given you a choice?”

“Ever the chivalrous kidnapper.”

“I do have manners.”

XXX

The two of them landed on Naboo and Zara smiled at how beautiful it was. She had visited before, but it was always on missions and never left the opportunity for her to explore. Obi Wan had called ahead and reserved a cabin near a lake for them, knowing how much Zara loved the water.

Neither of them wore cloaks or even garnered a glance from the locals. Even Obi Wan’s bright yellow eyes didn’t seem to matter there. It put both of them at ease. Zara was unsure of what she would decide if Anakin was still there, but either way it was a beautiful place to visit.

Zara walked into the cabin first, gasping when she realized someone was leaning on the table, their arms crossed over their chest.

“Anakin.”

“Did you think you could land here with a Sith and me not notice?”

Zara froze, wishing she had decided to make a new saber after all. Anakin put his hands up to show he wasn’t going to hurt her before letting them drop to his side.

“I’m not here to fight you, Zara. Either of you. I figured you came here for a reason since I know Mace told you where I was.”

“He did. And I did. Although it wasn’t my idea.”

Obi Wan stepped in behind her, gently shutting the door.

“Figured you would beat us here, Anakin.”

“Veth.”

Zara sighed and ran her hand down her face.

“His name is Obi Wan, Anakin. If you’re going to be in the place where we are currently staying, please be respectful.”

He grunted and watched Obi Wan put things away. Zara took his distracted state to check him for weapons and it surprised her to see he had no saber.

“Order took it. Apparently, I’m not allowed to have one as one of the conditions of my release.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t trying-“

“It’s fine, Zara.”

“Do, do you want to talk outside for a bit? The dock looks nice.”

“Water is better than lava, right?”

Zara grimaced, making Anakin sigh. Obi Wan gave her a reassuring smile and nod, going back to putting things away as she walked outside. She led the way down to the docks and sat down, crossing her legs so they didn’t touch the water. Anakin waited for a moment before joining her, turned slightly so there was distance between them.

“How much did the order tell you before you left?”

“Not much. Whole thing is a little foggy to be honest. Padme offered to let me see the hologram recording of most of it, but she warned me how upsetting it would be.”

“You don’t remember?”

He shook his head and leaned back against one of the posts of the dock.

“I remember Palpatine telling me where you were and that V-Obi Wan was going rogue against his wishes. I.. remember pledging myself to the dark side if it mean I could get you back.”

“Oh, Ani.”

“I just.. I had been looking so long for you. I barely slept. All I had was nightmares of finding you dead, Zar. I finished my missions but every moment other than that was spent looking for you. When I found out that the Jedi knew where you were I just snapped. I went to where you were and saw your broken saber. It was just too much.”

“Didn’t need to burn it to the ground. Was a little dramatic, but I shouldn’t expect much else from you I guess.”

Zara forced a smile and Anakin chuckled.

“I remember landing and seeing you. I’ve never felt so much darkness or rage. I don’t.. I don’t remember what I did. I don’t even remember what I said. It’s been haunting me, Zara. Padme knew where you were with V-Obi Wan but.. she told me that I needed to come to you and that’s when I knew I must have done something absolutely terrible.”

“Maybe it’s best if you don’t remember.”

He moved forward and took her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. Zara shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“Zara, please. I can see the fear and hurt written all over your face. I can’t even begin to atone for my actions if I don’t know what I did.”

She nodded and pulled her hand from his, wrapping her arms around herself.

“You showed up and it was all part of Palpatine’s plan. I could have stayed where he sent you, but I knew you wouldn’t listen. You’d just grab me and run no matter what I said. I went to Mustafar with Obi Wan, but I didn’t anticipate it being so dark. It made my stomach churn it was just so fucking dark.”

“He wanted me around that?”

She nodded and shifted slightly, uncomfortable to even face the situation.

“I tried to tell you everything, but you just kept saying you were going to save me. Obi Wan put himself between us because you were erratic. You charged at him and had no consideration that I was right there with no weapon to protect myself. Obi Wan fought you off and begged me to move. When I did, he used the force to push me into the building trying to make more distance. You used the force to throw a bunch of rocks into the doorway to block me from leaving.”

“I.. I did all of that? I don’t- I wouldn’t ever want to hurt you.”

“I ran down the hallways stopping to see the two of you fighting. You had already hurt him once on his arm. He kept fighting though. You were going to kill him if given even the slightest chance. When I finally got outside it was just in time to catch him falling from higher ground. You had hurt him pretty badly. There was no way he was going to get back on his feet.”

“It should make me happy that I bested him, but nothing about this feels good. What happened then?”

“I ran to him. I knew you wouldn’t understand my connection to him. I’m sure you still don’t. You just weren’t there anymore. Your eyes.. they were changing. You told me to move so you could kill him where he was. It wasn’t the honorable thing though. He couldn’t fight you. He wasn’t even your enemy, and you just wouldn’t listen to me.”

Zara felt tears start to sting her eyes that she wiped away quickly. Anakin moved forward but stopped himself when she flinched.

“We fought then. I used his saber and we fought. I begged you to stop so we could leave and get help. I just wanted you both safe when it was neither of you that started the whole thing. We were all just pawns. Then you almost fell into the lava and I saved you. The only problem was it put you closer to Obi Wan and you weren’t stopping.”

She placed her finger on the scar on her lip, letting him see it. He frowned and shook his head, running his hand across his face.

“I did that.”

She nodded and took a few breaths. It was harder for her to talk about than she thought possible, especially with Anakin.

“Elbow to the face. Obi Wan told me I had to kill you; it was the only way to stop you. I couldn’t though. I couldn’t kill my best friend. He used the force to stop you and right before I made you sleep you told me.. you told me that you had loved me but all you felt at that point was hate.”

“Shit.”

He moved forward more slowly and gently took her hands in his.

“Zar, I’ve always cared very deeply for you. I think back then if given the chance I would have gladly been with you. I mean we both know that. I know that it isn’t, wasn’t, reciprocated. I let Palpatine twist my mind and my memory of us. I never should have treated you like that. I don’t hate you. I am so sorry I hurt you. I am so sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

“You’re.. you’re okay now?”

He nodded, still holding onto her hands.

“I’m not ever going to be the same. It changed me but I am as close to normal as I’m going to be I think.”

“I can’t quite tell you how happy I am to hear that.”

“What about you? Are you okay?”

She shrugged, looking over at the cabin to see Obi Wan leaning against the wall reading. She could tell he was keeping track of their emotions to make sure that she was safe. She smiled at him before looking back at Anakin.

“I am. Not where I thought I would be but I’m happy.”

“What happened to Zara Fross, Jedi Master?”

“Oh, they offered it to me. A seat on the council too. I turned it down.”

“Wow. Never thought I’d see the day.”

She laughed and shrugged, Anakin letting her go, sitting back with an amused smile.

“After everything I just couldn’t stay. I don’t really have any hard feelings against them or anything, but I could never go back.”

“Where are you living now?”

“Scarif. We live by the water in the warm weather. It’s really nice to feel peace after everything. You? You live here?”

“Yeah. I live here with uh.. with Padme.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Actually, we got married a while ago.”

“Married!?”

Zara sat up with a smile and Anakin rubbed the back of his neck as he chuckled.

“She’s great. Not sure when it turned from her trying to help me to us being in love but-“

“Hey, I get it. I know that you’ll never understand Obi Wan. I don’t need you to. There’s a lot to that story though.”

“I’d like the chance to hear it some time.”

“I’d like that.”

“Good. Padme wants you to come to dinner. Both of you.”

“No trying to kill him.”

“Padme would kill me if I was rude to a guest. You’re both welcome there. Look, I know that we’re never going to be able to go back to the way things used to be. Neither of us are the same person we were back then. I just, I want to get to know who you are now. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Ani. Just give us the address and we will be there.”

XXX

Zara and Obi Wan settled into the bed after a long evening with Padme and Anakin. It had been icy at first, but Padme was a fantastic politician. She quickly had Obi Wan and Anakin discussing tactics and ideologies. They were both surprised to find out their thought process was similar.

“Thank you for going with me.”

“The pleasure was all mine, darling. How do you feel about Anakin becoming a father?”

“I’m honestly excited for him. I’m excited for them both. Just seeing the way that he is with Padme made me happy. He never would have had that kind of peace with the order. I’m glad he’s getting the life he’s always wanted.”

“That is very true. What about you?”

“Hmm?”

She nestled into his side and looked up at him.

“What kind of life do you want?”

“I think I’m still learning that. My entire life was wrapped around the order. I can say that I hope we never face another hardship in our lives, but I know that isn’t realistic.”

“It’s not. Not all darkness is as charming as mine is.”

She laughed and kissed his chest.

“If you’re asking about kids, I don’t know. I’ve never thought about being a mother nor did I think I would care enough about someone to be with them. I don’t think I need to have children to feel fulfilled in my life.”

“Is that what we are? Together?”

Zara looked at him and narrowed her eyes.

“I’m kidding darling. Of course, we’re together. What about marriage?”

“I’m not opposed to marriage. As long as it’s the right person.”

“The right person, hmm?”

Obi Wan looked down at her and growled when she started giggling. He pounced on top of her and kissed her roughly.

“Yeah. I’ll let you know when I meet them.”

“Please don’t forget that I am dangerous, darling. I would never willingly harm you, but I will hurt anyone who thinks they have any claim to what is mine.”

“Mmm, I kind of like when you get possessive.”

“Oh, you are corrupted indeed.”

She giggled and nodded before he kissed her.

“What would you think of me buying a home here?”

“On Naboo?”

“I figure it’s a beautiful place. There is still water and you’d be able to be closer to Anakin.”

“You’d buy a home for us just so I could be closer to someone who tried to kill you.”

“Darling, I’d buy you the galaxy if that’s what would make you happy.”

“You’re far too good to me.”

“Let me show you just how good I am.”

“Oh, you’ve shown me before, Obi Wan.”

“And I will show you as often as I can until it is our time to become one with the force.”

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