#one follows my collarbone and covers like a third of the distance from shoulder to center of my chest

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

I have officially reached "yeah, you know what to do" level of tattood when the tattoo artist is about to go through the aftercare instructions

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Fred Weasley x Reader Smut- Part Three of Three

Summer couldn't have rolled round quick enough, with you and Freddie literally counting down the days until your little getaway in Greece. You ended up choosing a private villa for the pair of you to stay in rather than a hotel, wanting as much privacy as you could. You'd be lying if you said you wasn't hoping that this week would be THE week you and Fred finally went all the way. Spending the majority of your life at school definitely meant the chances of having any privacy was extremely minimal- the closest you ever got was feeling each other up in the corridor at night. That was short-lived since Snape rudely decided to walk by and interrupt you. Speaking of interruptions, your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of suitcase wheels coming along the gravel by the Burrow.

"Ready, Princess?" George winked holding Fred's bag and offered his arm out to you.

"Nice try, George." You grinned, waving at Fred jogging behind him.

"Oi you sod I've been looking for that for ages." Fred shouted, taking his bag from his brother.

"Worth a shot, Greece sounded nice." George pouted, folding his arms like a child.

"Sorry Georgie, maybe next time?" You punched his shoulder lightly and hooked your arms with Fred's ready to be on your way.

"Maybe when I get myself a woman. Wouldn't want to be third wheeling on your shag-fest anyway." George grinned. You felt your cheeks burn a little and shot George the finger as you got into your car. "Ever the charmer, Y/N. Don't rush back from Greece too quickly." Molly came out of the Burrow to say her own goodbyes.

"Oh have fun you two! It's going to be so lovely just the two of you for a week, make the most of it..."

"Believe you me mother dearest, they'll make the most of every second." George teased.

"Oh.. OH." Molly began. "Last time your father and I had time away I found out I was pregnant with Ginny a few weeks later."

"MUM" George doubled over in laughter at Fred's expense.

"I'm just saying.."

"Right goodbye we're off!" Fred pushed you in the car and climbed in beside you, nodding to the driver to go.

"Well that wasn't-"

"Awkward in the slightest? Welcome to the family Princess." Fred finished. You smiled and decided to tease him over his words.

"I'm one of the family now then am I? Should I be expecting a proposal?" Fred's face reddened and he began to ramble.

"No obviously not. Well, not OBVIOUS. I'm sure I will ask you one day. Maybe? Would you want that?" He stuttered.

"One of my greatest achievements in this world is being able to make the one and only Fred Weasley blush and stumble over his words with so much ease." You smirked, reaching over to hold his hand in your smaller one.

"I honestly don't know how you do it, it's embarrassing. George rips the shit out of me for it."

"Embarrassing as it may be, you're really cute when you're flustered. Besides, we have a Georgeless week ahead of us so I can't promise I won't do it more often sunshine." You squeezed Fred's cheeks with your spare hand and kissed his pouted lips for emphasis. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you.

"Really landed myself an odd one didn't I?"

"You love me really."

"Yeah I guess you're alright." He teased, shooting you a wink. You grinned and rested your head on his shoulder for the last short part of the journey.

(I honestly have no idea how I could make a plane journey the slightest bit interesting so I'm skipping to the villa, sorry lmao)

The plane journey thankfully went smoothly and the pair of you soon found yourself walking through the front doors of the villa.

"Bloody hell." Fred looked around at the large holiday home in awe.

"Nice huh? I don't think I chose too badly.."

"Too badly? This place is amazing." You grabbed Fred's hand and started to walk through the building.

"Come on let's get changed I'm sweating so much in these clothes I fear I'll leave a puddle." You groaned, dragging him to the bedroom.

"Wow what a gorgeous mental image that created. How could I ever resist you now?" Fred placed his hand over his heart and followed your lead.

"You're lucky you're cute"

"So you've said."

"Fred Weasley put on your bloody swimming shorts and meet me by the pool in 5 minutes or I swear to all that is holy I will throw you in there in your clothes." You warned playfully. Fred grabbed his trunks from his bag and stood back in front of you.

"I like it when you get all dominant."

"Go!" You laughed, pushing him out of the bedroom door while you got into your own swimsuit. You couldn't help the childish giddiness that built up inside you at the thought of seeing Fred in just his swimwear. Even though you had spent the last few days at the burrow you didn't get any further than a short make-out session that was disturbed by George walking into the bedroom. In his defence it was his room too but you still felt disappointed. And the burrow was so cold despite it being the summer months that Fred was in more layers than you had ever seen him in so you'd be lying if you said you wasn't disappointed you still hadn't seen so much as Fred shirtless.

You walked your way round to the pool and looked to see Fred sitting on a sunbed with his eyes closed, his pale skin shining in the European sun. You took in his features from the distance, from his lightly toned stomach, to the array of freckles that covered his skin and finally the patch of ginger hair that trailed from his chest and created a thin line leading to the waistband of his shorts.

"You know perversion isn't okay even if you're a woman." Fred shouted, his eyes still shut. "I know I look like I've been chiselled by the gods but ogling is a vile thing to do to a person. I'm not an object." He teased. You walked closer to him and grinned.

"Is it still perversion if I'm looking at my boyfriend? You can hardly blame me, with you clearly being sculpted by the hand of god himself." Fred opened his eyes hearing your voice was closer to him and his mouth opened slightly as he looked at you and stood up.

"Speaking of being sculpted by the hand of god.." He trailed off, pulling you closer to him by your hand. You blushed and shied your head away. Fred turned your face back towards his and kissed you, his hand slowly moving to rest on the bare skin above your hip. "You're gorgeous love." He complimented.

"Who's ogling now?"

"Can you blame me?" He whispered, moving to kiss you again. You leaned in and stopped just as your lips were about to touch.

"I hope you can swim Weasley."

"What are yo-" You grabbed both of his hand and turned, pushing him in the pool. Unfortunately for you, growing up with so many brothers left Fred with impeccable reflexes and he managed to pull you with him, the pair of you landing with a huge splash. Once you reached the surface of the water you started to splash Fred, laughing and swimming away as fast as you could when he started to chase you. "Now that, Miss L/N, wasn't very nice now was it?" He grabbed you from behind and turned you round to be flush against his body. "Naughty girl." He breathed, moving your soaked hair out of your face as he stared into your eyes, his hands roaming your body.

"Sorry Freddie." You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "How about we kiss and make up?" You suggested, pressing your foreheads together. Fred leaned forward until your lips touched, skilfully running his tongue along your bottom lip and lifting your legs to wrap round his waist under the water. You pulled away breathless and looked into Fred's eyes, noticing they were much darker than they usually are.

"I don't know Y/N, I'm still pretty mad. Want to go apologise elsewhere?" He moved his hands round to your arse and squeezed hard enough to make you gasp

"Our clothes are soaked.."

"I don't know about you darling but I wasn't planning on leaving them on." And with that you were hoisted out of the pool and had Fred's hands on you in seconds, lifting you back up and guiding you to the bedroom. He put you down when you stepped into the room, his mouth latching onto yours and his hands untying your bikini top and moving to pull it over your head before he stopped completely and looked at you, his face turning concerned for a moment. "You're okay with this right? I'm not.. going too fast? Because I can stop if you want me to." He spoke, softly putting his hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. You stepped back and took off the top yourself, throwing it across the room and putting your hands on his bare chest.

"Fred if you stop I may go insane. I've wanted you for years, I'm not going to stop it finally happening."

"Thank god for that.." He ran his fingers down your sides and pushed you onto the bed. Fred crawled over the top of you and hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear. "Can't be ruining the bed now can we?" He winked, pulling them down your legs and throwing them behind you. You sat up and pulled at his swim shorts.

"Same goes for you Freddie." He grinned and kicked his shorts away, pushing you to the back of the bed and hovering over you.

"God you're beautiful." He breathed, looking from your face and then allowing his eyes to scan the rest of your body. You couldn't help but let your own gaze drop to Fred's hard cock that pressed against his stomach.

"And you're huge. Jesus Fred." He smirked and moved his face to the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking along your jawline while you writhed beneath him. Your hands roamed wherever you could reach of his body and you moaned obscenely loud as he kissed your sweet spot, sucking a dark purple mark on your skin. "Fred.." You moaned again, feeling him smile against your neck. His lips began to roam south as he made similar marks along your collarbone, your back arching to meet his mouth as he suddenly sucked your nipple into his mouth, massaging your other breast with his hand. He paid your other breast the same attention before kissing down your stomach and moving between your thighs. His teeth nipped at your inner thigh, slowly getting closer to your core. "Freddie please.." You groaned, fisting your hands into the bedsheets.

"You need only ask Princess." Fred winked, darting out his tongue to slowly lick your aching clit. You moved your hips closer to his face, desperate for any relief and bit your knuckle to stop yourself moaning too loudly. "We're finally on our own in the middle of nowhere. Be as loud as you can sweetheart, let me hear you." His breath over you sent a shiver through your body. You didn't get a chance to respond before he began to aggressively lick and suck at your clit, your voice coming out in a guttural moan as your hands instinctively went to grab at his hair. His fingers moved from keeping your legs spread to begin circling your entrance. Suddenly he inserted a finger into you, curling it and pumping at a steady pace as your breath began to hitch in your throat.

"Fred- ah fuck." You moaned, tightening your fingers into his red locks. You threw your head backwards and closed your eyes as he inserted another finger into you, pumping mercilessly as his tongue gently licked at your clit.

"You're so gorgeous." Fred whispered, picking up his pace and bending his fingers to hit that one spot over and over again.

"Freddie please- I'm-ah I'm gonna-" Your voice came out strangled as your legs began to tremble and your stomach knotted.

"Cum for me then Princess." His voice was enough to tip you over the edge. Your vision turned white and you saw stars before you looked down and saw Fred grinning at you, his chin glistening. He crawled back up your body and moved your hair out of your face as you caught your breath back. You quickly pulled him towards you by the nape of his neck and kissed him. "Fancy carrying on or are you all spent for now?" Fred asked you sweetly, though the smirk on his face showed how proud he was for the effect he had over you. You leant up and pecked him on the lips as your hands raked down his chest to his hard cock.

"I think it's your turn sweetheart." You smirked, giving him a teasing squeeze before flipping the two of you over. You laid between Fred's thighs and licked him from base to tip, giving a slow suck to his throbbing head and tasting the pre-cum that had formed at the tip. His breath hitched in his throat and he quickly grabbed your shoulder to stop you.

"Y/N while the mere thought of your pretty mouth being wrapped about me sounds incredible I honestly don't think I'll be able to last for the main event." He admitted, pulling you back up towards him and groaning loudly as you started to grind your hips against him.

"'The main event'? What a romantic way to put it." You grinned.

"What would you rather? Vaginal interc-"

"No no. Main event was nicer." You laughed, letting him turn you back over again so he was hovering above you. He smiled and reconnected your lips, tracing his fingers to your hand and pulling it above your head, lacing his fingers with yours. His other hand fell down to your hip as he raised it slightly, lining himself up with your entrance.

"Ready darling?" You could only nod back at him, far too eager for him to finally fill you in the way you've dreamed of for far too long. He pushed into you slowly, the pair of you moaning into each other's mouths until he filled you to the hilt. Fred was a hell of a lot larger than you anticipated and you had to take a moment to adjust to the size of him before he could even think about moving.

"Jesus Freddie you're so big." You moaned, clenching your walls around him. Between the surprise of your movements and your words replaying in your mind Fred's head shot into the crook of your neck as he bit onto your shoulder blade to compose himself, anything to distract him from his want to move. You wrapped your arms under his and gripped onto his back, moving your hips against his to let him know you were ready. Immediately Fred's hips started to move and you couldn't help but moan out his name with each thrust, pulling him by his hair to meet your lips as he picked up speed. His fingers dug into your thighs so hard you were convinced he left bruises as he pulled out of you halfway before slamming himself back into you. Your nails dug in and began to rake down his back, risen red marks forming a trail behind them. His hands moved to your hips and squeezed, his thrusts becoming slower but sharper as he began to hit that spot over and over again. His voice came out in grunts, heavy breathing sounding between each movement as he felt himself being pushed closer to the edge.

"I'm not- fuck- I won't last much longer love." He breathed.

"Me neither." You let out your words with a small squeak as his thumb reached over and began to rub circles on your already aching clit.

"Come on Princess. Cum with me." He groaned, his movements becoming sloppy as he clung on to his last bits of sanity. You gripped onto him tighter as pleasure shot through your body; your release hitting you like a ton of bricks as you felt him finish inside of you, filling you up completely while your name loudly fell from his lips. His movements slowed before he pulled out and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you beside him and tucking your form under his arm.

"That was-"

"Yeah-" You turned to face him, wiping his hair from his sweaty forehead and moving up to kiss his lips.

"I wish we didn't have to wait that long." You admitted. He smiled and squeezed you closer towards him.

"We're never waiting that long again. I'll have you in a bloody cupboard if I have to when we go back." He spoke, making you laugh beside him.

"As long as Snape doesn't come by again you can have me wherever you want Weasley." Suddenly the humidity of the Greek weather hit you and you found it even harder to breathe in the room. "I think we should go back out to the pool, it's too hot in here." Fred smirked and traced his hand down your bare body, the hand behind your shoulder grabbing your boob and giving it a teasing squeeze. You moaned and moved into his touch.

"I'll go back out to the pool with you... if your swimming suit stays discarded in that corner for the rest of the week." He bit your ear playfully and you gave in immediately. "Good girl." He praised, standing up and leading you back outside and into the pool. You swam over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his already hard cock pressed against your thigh.

"Someone's eager." You teased, rubbing your leg against his length. "Do you truly want me again already?"

"Darling if I could have you pressed up naked against me every second of the day I'd be in paradise." He lifted you by your ass and pressed his tip against your entrance, dipping in the tiniest amount before pulling away again. "Now.. let's see how big of a splash we can make."

[43sparrows]

n e e d e d - {Five x Reader} AU!

Read Part 1

WARNINGS: more pining, more angst, more mediocre smut

Word Count: 1,933

Note: ugh sorry it took forever to get this out. I had to rework my idea on it. I hope you like this next installment.

- - [ 5 ] - -

Need you.

The note taped to your mirror is written in an all too familiar scrawling handwriting. The paper is also familiar. It's clearly been torn from the open day planner on your vanity.

Despite the fact that you're home two hours past when you wanted to be-- Despite the fact that it's late and you haven't even eaten-- Despite the fact that your roommate is in the next room with a group of your friends watching the Bachelorette-- you tug the note down and walk to the hallway phone. Dialing in the number is mechanic--your finger acting on muscle memory alone as you stare at the paper in your hand. The top is a jagged white line that cuts through your boxes of to dos and appointments and events. It's a good thing you didn't have anything else planned for today.

He picks up on the third ring. "Five."

"Hey, I got your note," you say, keeping your voice down. From the living room, you hear one of your friends exclaim Girl, no! Don't listen to his bullshit!

"And?"

You shake your head as if he can see it. "Nasreen has friends over, so here's no good."

"Come over."

You know this doesn't count as an invite. He says it out of necessity. He wants you. And Five gets what he wants. Still, your heart flutters a bit in your chest at the faintest tinge of hope that maybe when he says he needs you, he means it in more than just the usual way.

"Ok," you nod, again forgetting the basic concept of a phone call. "Give me like 15 min--"

There's a dial tone before you can even finish the sentence, let alone say goodbye. You sigh, hanging the phone back in its place on the wall as screams of outrage from the living room echo throughout the apartment. You're not looking forward to telling your roommate you can't stay for girl's night. Not in front of all the other girls. But he needs you. And after the day you've had, you kind of need him too.

You head back towards your bedroom to change, nudging the door to your room open with your elbow. You almost jump out of your skin when your eyes land on Five standing in the middle of the room.

"Couldn't wait," he says, crossing the room in two long strides before grabbing a hold of you.

In one second it feels like your body is shrinking in on itself and in the next you're stretching too far and too fast, but when the feeling settles, you're in Five's entryway and he's pressing you up against his door, pushing your shirt up over your head. The moment the fabric is free from your body his lips return to your neck, biting, tugging, sucking at the skin there as you throw your head back against the door, a thunking sound covering your whimpers.

Five deftly unbuckles your pants, shoving them along with your underwear down your legs. He's unwilling to stop his current assault of your collarbone, though, leaving you to ungracefully and hurriedly step yourself out of the pants. You might have fallen if it weren't for his vice like grip at your waist, pinning you to the door.

Your own hands find their way into Five's hair. He's due for a haircut, his sweeping bangs falling into his eyes and tickling your skin as he drops his lips to the skin left exposed by your bra. You push it back for him, but when he nips at the soft skin of your breasts, your fingers wind themselves into his locks pulling sharply so that he lets out a hiss. It's not much of a sound, but you'll take it as a victory.

It was an easy win though. You know that when he's like this, he just needs to feel something. He needs sharp reminders to keep him here in this moment instead of letting his mind wander off to wherever it was before the two of you wound yourselves around each other.

You tug at his hair again and his hips jerk forward into yours, eliciting a gasp from you. Or maybe it's not the small taste of friction. Maybe it's the fact that at almost the same moment, he unclasps your bra, and his mouth drops to cover your nipple.

It's not until his fingers pinch and roll at the other nipple that you realize, vaguely, that he's wearing too much clothes. It takes little prompting to get him to take off his shirt, and as he's busying himself with pulling it over his head, your hands drop to his belt and your whole body drops to its knees. Your hardly able to enjoy yourself there, though, since the second his pants and underwear pool at his feet, he's pulling you to yours and pushing you hard against the door. His hands come under your thighs, and you jump up, wrapping your legs around him, arms crossed behind his neck, your body nearly vibrating in anticipation of what comes next. It takes a second for him to roll on the condom he must have grabbed before his pants came off, the silver packaging falling to the floor as he coaxes the rubber down his shaft. The anticipation and heat of your bodies pressed together as your heart racing, and then in one swift move, he's entered you, his fast pace pounding out a rhythmic knocking sound against the door. You bury your face into his neck to muffle your cries, allowing your arms to unwind and fingernails rake up his back. His thrusting stutters and then returns as you bite into his shoulder.

There's no warning when he turns you, walking you backwards, his hands kneading at your ass on his way to somewhere else in your apartment.You ache for the feeling of him inside of you again, and trail your fingernails along his back again, as if this was enough to silently coax him to do what you wanted.

Five has never let you take control, though. Instead, he drops you to your feet, and before you can feel properly confused, a chair is clattering to the floor and he has you spun around and bent over his table. His pace is even more relentless as he takes you from behind, one hand pressing your cheek harder into the table as each thrust slams your thighs into the table. You feel the familiar pressure building inside of you, and you snake a hand down to rub at your clit. Five's thrusts grow even harder, and your eyes are squeezed shut, and you're biting at your lip so hard you can taste copper, and then there are stars.

But he's not done. Not even close.

You've come twice by the time he finally does, one hand wrapped around your throat, the other holding your hip with a bruising grip. His eyes shut, and he looks beautiful like that. But it's nothing like the short seconds that follow, as he relaxes and looks...almost peaceful. You don't always get a glimpse of this Five, but when you do, it's enough to make you believe in God.

Five pulls out, walking away to dispose of the condom and you take a second to lay there, legs dangling off the table, trying to catch your breath.

You hear Five walk back into the room and push yourself up into a sitting position. His back is towards you as he walks towards the door and your pile of clothes, letting you admire the angry red streaks you've left there. It's a twisted sort of delight to know that even though you'll be back home soon, all traces of you and this moment won't be gone.

"You want coffee?" Five asks, and your eyes shoot up to his mussed hair. He stoops to pick up the pile of clothes, gathering it in his arms and crossing back to the table so he can dump it into a pile next to you. You extract your underwear from where it's stuck in your pants, sliding it up your legs as much as you can without getting up.

"Yeah," you nod, as if this was nothing. Which it was. It was nothing. He'd asked you to stay for coffee twice before. It was another one of his codes.

He nods, pulling his pants up over his hips, underwear and all. Rather than messing with the belt, he lets it clink together as he heads into the kitchen, quickly washing his hands before pulling down some coffee. You allow yourself to slip from the table's ledge so you can continue getting dressed. Your muscles are already starting to feel sore, and as you zip your tight suit pants closed, you can feel how tender the skin around your hips already is. You'll probably have a host of bruises tomorrow morning. Traces of Five would remain too.

By the time you've gone to the bathroom, sanitized the table, and finished a quick Lysol wipe-down of the door, the french press is ready. Five brings it over to the table along with two mugs. He gives you a vintage Umbrella Academy mug with the logo on one side and a large "5" on the other. He keeps the plain white diner-style mug for himself.

Five pours his cup first before passing it over to you. You fill your mug in silence and then keep it cupped between your hands, bringing it to your lips to take a taste.

You learned early on that Five was good at everything he did. And that included making the best damn coffee.

"How bad was it?" you ask, keeping your mug between your hands and elbows propped up on the table.

He doesn't answer right away, but you've learned that this doesn't mean he won't answer at all. Instead he looks over your shoulder, gazing off into the distance and letting the silence drape itself around the two of you.

"Bad," he says finally, bringing his gaze to his coffee and then taking a long sip. He doesn't look up at you, instead staring at the dark pool of liquid. "Lost a kid."

His words are matter of fact, and cause a dull, achy kind of pain in your heart. One part for the injustice of losing a child to an act of evil, another for the heartbreak of the child's parents, and the largest for the misery, anger, frustration, and guilt swimming in this man in front of you.

Any words of your own are meaningless. He doesn't need you to tell him that it probably wasn't his fault, or that you were sorry, or that this situation sucked. You want to reach out and hold his hand, but the action's too intimate. Too gentle.

So instead, you sit across from him and nod, placing your mug down on the table so you can stare into yours as well. And finally, after you feel like a respectful amount of silence has passed, you murmur one word:

"Fuck."

Five exhales a humorless laugh. "Yeah," he agrees, his eyes looking up to meet yours. "Exactly."

The conversation never moving on from there. Instead, you each sit in the quiet, sipping at your coffee together and yet miles apart. Five finishes first and patiently waits for you to drain your mug of its last drop before you get up, leaving the coffee cups and french press on the table, and head into his bedroom. Five follows closely behind.

Read Part 3

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Collection of Sounds Date Translation [CN]

Hey! Just a couple of things before you begin reading. I don’t actually know Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from @keliosyfan​. Thank you! 💛

I highly recommend reading the prologue to this date which I’ll link here. It gives some context and has some sweet and spicy moments. 😍 There’s also a phone call that comes before the date which I’ll link here.

This translation contains spoilers for a date that has not yet been released to the English server. If you wish to not be spoiled, please don’t look below the cut.

Hope you enjoy~ 💛

*Spoilers below for future content!*

[First Part]

The moment I opened the car door, unlike the smell of the city, fresh air flooded into my nose.

The air seemed to carry the fragrance of grass, and there were also some hints of wet grass.

Several flat brick houses in the distance were scattered on the hillside, and the smoke from the chimneys was also reflected by the sun with a faint golden light.

Ahead is the end of our journey; a village far away from the noise--

Kiro is currently composing a new song. To add more special elements to it, we are here to collect sounds.

Kiro: Miss Chips, come and help!

The flustered tone brought my thoughts back. I looked behind and saw Kiro getting out of the RV with several pieces of recording equipment.

I quickly hugged the microphone boom on his shoulders in my arms. He stabilized his balance, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Kiro: The air here is so good. I picked a good place. 

Kiro: We will definitely find the best sound here!

Kiro: Gogogo! 

We picked up the hand-drawn map and started to walk towards the village not far away. 

MC: Passing through the small forest ahead, you will reach the elderly lady’s house!

As soon as the voice fell, there was a rustling sound in the grass not far away, accompanied by a few animal noises.

I followed the sound, and a big plump goose appeared in the gap between the grass and walk towards us swayingly.

I don’t know who was blocking the other’s way but we both stopped at the same time.

I couldn’t help thinking of the stories of many people being chased by geese, and my feet involuntarily took a step back.

Kiro: We unexpectedly met the rumoured “Country Bully”; Goose Boss! 

It flapped its wings, telling us in a high-pitched manner, “Don’t mess with me!” 

*Can confirm. Geese, especially Canadian geese, are hella vicious. They will just stand there and 👁👁. If you stare long enough, they’ll start honking and flapping their wings at you. They’re cute though!*

Kiro: Hahaha, it’s really as fierce as the ones in the video.

Kiro looked at Big Goose curiously and didn’t seem to realize the “crisis-ridden” situation at hand. I couldn’t help pulling on his sleeves.

MC: Let’s take a detour, just in case….

Before I could finish, there was another noise coming from the grass.

A few goslings poked their heads out. They are like yellow pompoms, and their eyes are looking at us steadily.

Kiro: Hey~ *The way he said this was so cute!* 

He spoke softly, bent down and waved.

Immediately afterwards, the goslings wandered over with wobbly feet, trying to climb on his calf again and again.

Kiro couldn’t help laughing. He put down his luggage, sat down and carefully touched the goose.

Kiro: Hello, future Goose Boss~

[Second Part]

After a while, one of the goslings flapped its wings and struggled to climb to the toe of Kiro’s shoes while making a soft sound.

Kiro: Little guy, do you want me to hug you? *He’s talking so softly here 🥺* 

The gosling seemed to understand what he meant by spreading its tiny wings and shaking its body.

Kiro gently held it up, looking at the little life in his palms without blinking.

Kiro: Miss Chips, would you like to come closer?

MC: Ok!

I just took a step when the ‘Goose Boss” in front of me gave a more threatening honk than before, and it rushed towards us with its neck thrust forward.

MC: ….Be careful!

Kiro quickly put down the goose in his hand steadily, but it was too late to dodge the collision of the Big Goose.

The moment the Big Goose pounced on him, he opened his arms and held the Big Goose in his arms. 

“Goose Boss” was stunned for a second, then spread its wings again and his long beak approached his cheek.

Kiro smiled without worry. He stretched out his palm to cover the goose’s head and gently pet it.

Kiro: Don’t be afraid, don’t be angry. I won’t hurt you. *Changed some wording*

The Big Goose shrank its neck somewhat resisting and honked a few times in protest, but Kiro still stroked it without letting go.

Kiro: We can be good friends, right?

His voice seemed to have magical power, and the Big Goose gradually quieted down. Its menacing wings also retracted.

It leaned lightly on his shoulder and squinted its eyes in content.

Kiro smiled and hugged the Big Goose and couldn’t help rubbing its white head a few more times.

Suddenly, the young goose at his feet wailed as if hungry, and the Big Goose immediately spread out its wings and jumped out of Kiro’s arms.

It gently combed the feathers on the goslings and then swaggered away with them.

Kiro smiled crookedly and waved his arms.

Kiro: Goodbye, Goose Boss~ 

Watching them disappear gradually, Kiro stood up and rubbed the mud off of his body.

MC: Unexpectedly, the frightening Big Goose gave in to the “head pats”~ *This came out weird in GT so I changed this part up a bit*

Kiro: Of course, no one can resist “head pats”.

MC: Are you the same?

Kiro walked towards me, lowered his head and shook it.

Kiro: Miss Chips, would you like to try it too?

The curly blond hair swayed gently in the breeze as he shook, seemingly sending me the most sincere invitation.

It looked so soft and vibrant under the sun, I couldn’t help rubbing it a few times.

Kiro: Well….it’s true.

He immediately wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his head into my neck and shoulder.

Kiro: I am like a big goose now. I don’t want to leave anymore. 

His warm cheeks were close to my collarbone, and a sudden rush of heat quietly reached the tips of my ears.

I didn’t know if he could hear my accelerating heartbeat. He raised his head and looked at me with pure blue eyes.

The next second, a hand fell on top of my head and rubbed it.

When I didn’t react, a sly smile raised at the corner of his mouth.

Kiro: Now it’s your turn.

He opened his arms and seemed to be waiting for me to pounce into his arms.

MC: ….Let’s hurry up and get to the elderly lady’s house!

I pretended to glare at him and walked forward with a chuckle.

But even if I speed up my pace, it seems that I can’t hide the sound of my heart beating like a drum.

(Cut to elderly lady’s house)

Soon we arrived at elderly lady’s house.

She is the person who is most familiar with the mountains and forests in the entire village. After she learned that we need to collect sounds, she enthusiastically introduced us to many places here.

After we gave her a greeting gift that we had prepared a while back, she took us to the backyard.

Although I heard many things about this lady’s backyard filled with a sea of flowers; after seeing it with my own eyes, it was even better than I had imagined--

Clusters of slender branches are adorned with flowers of different varieties. Large painting-like flowers rippled with the wind, setting off a “wave”.

I closed my eyes and the wonderful sounds around me continued to interweave, entangle, and overlap, as if playing a song.

I turned my head to look at Kiro and found that he had also closed his eyes.

The sunlight gleamed on the side of his face and the corners of his lips curled up as if greedily taking everything in around him.

Against the background of the sea of flowers, all the light and colours are gathering towards him, becoming extremely dazzling.

I don’t know if he felt my gaze but he opened his eyes and looked at me.

Kiro: Miss Chips, are you ready to move into our Flower Sea View Room?

(Cut to room)

We walked into the cabin. Although the space was not large, it was very tidy. Some flower buds had even bloomed, filling the cabin with life.

MC: It’s really nice here and the scenery is pleasant. And along the way, it was very quiet because there were no people around!

MC: This way, you don’t have to worry about being interrupted, and you can do what you want without any restraint.

Kiro: With no restraint? 

Before the words finished, he raised a lazy smile and dragged me into his arms. Our center of gravity was thrown off at the same time and we fell on the soft bed.

I stared at Kiro above me in a daze. He pushed some hair on my face away, leaving an itchy feeling.

Kiro: Then I have a lot of things I want to do….

Kiro: You will cooperate with me, right? 

His breath was so breathy and soft, it made the tips of my ears turn red instantly.

MC: If it is a reasonable thing….of course I will cooperate.

Kiro: Let’s rest for a while.

He fell on the bed and hugged me tightly, leaving only a small gap for us to breathe freely.

Kiro: Before collecting sounds, let’s be lazy. But not too much~

[Third Part]

After the afternoon nap, Kiro and I walked into the mountains with our equipment and started the official sound-collecting trip.

Seeing the porcelain doll originally placed in the RV hung on his backpack, I couldn’t help but be a little surprised. He seemed to see my doubts and shook his backpack.

Kiro: It is the main character of this song, and I want to take it and set off.

Kiro: I believe that everyone listening will be moved by it. *Changed some wording*

Kiro: Creation is like a kind of communication. The creator just tells us what the character wants and does it another way. 

Kiro: So since it is going to find the “fragments” that have been lost, this doll cannot be absent from the process. 

Kiro lowered his eyes and gently rubbed the porcelain doll with his fingertips. I couldn’t help holding his hand.

MC: So have you figured out what sound you want to collect?

Kiro: Of course….I’m collecting all of the beautiful sounds. 

Kiro: There are always people experiencing unsatisfactory things, I want to use these sounds to awaken the beautiful memories that are not noticed by them.

His earnest words can’t help but remind me that each of his songs seems to bring light and power to everyone.

MC: Then I have to make a contribution and prick up my little ears to find the sound!

Kiro looked at me and raised his brows slightly.

Kiro: Miss Chips, do you know?

Kiro: In fact, in some special circumstances, you can let the sound actively find you.

MC: Really, how do we do that?

Kiro: Such as….

He pressed the corners of his lips, his eyes closed, and then a warm touch pressed against my ears.

Kiro: I am the “sound” that will come to your door. *It took everything in me to keep to the original as much as possible. My mind went many places 😳*

Kiro: Whenever Miss Chips gets bored or misses me, I will be the first thing to pop into your ears. *HIS VOICE IS SO BREATHY AND LOW AAAAAAHHHH*

I couldn’t help but tremble and my heart was beating wildly.

MC: You….!

He tilted his head, smirking like a little devil.

Kiro: I seem to hear a special heartbeat. 

I realized that I had accidentally fallen into his “trap” and had to blush and ran forward.

MC: There seems to be a sound in front of me. Let me go and take a look!

(Cut to spring)

Kiro and I walked forward slowly and the sounds from the distance before became clearer and clearer--

The gurgling clear spring faintly made the sound of water colliding with the stones, and the crisp birdsong in the sky also flew near and above.

Kiro put in his earphones and walked forward softly.

He bends down for a while and stretches his hands in front of him; he raises his arms high again as if he is adjusting his posture following the bird’s path.

The sun shines through the gaps in the leaves, through the mist in the forest, and poured a little bit onto him, creating a beautiful aperture.

Looking at Kiro like this, I was subconsciously drawn in.

It seemed that whenever he was immersed in the world of sound, his expression would become extremely pure and profound.

There is a sense of keenness in his eyebrows, but the curvature of the corners of his mouth never fell.

He is very happy.

Thinking of this, I smiled to myself.

Suddenly, he walked up to me, took out the earphones and gently put them in my ears.

Kiro: Listen with earphones; you will find many unexpected nuances.

Following his whispers, the natural sounds around me rushed into my ears like a spring.

The sound in the earphones seems to be completely different from the sound heard by human ears at ordinary times--

The sounds of birds, cicadas, springs, and the wind brushing leaves are more delicate and clearer than usual.

These pure sounds are usually drowned out by the sounds of the city.

Kiro: How do you like it? 

MC: I think these sounds have become a song….

Kiro looked into the distance with a serene smile in his eyes.

Kiro: They are original songs created by nature.

Hearing this, I quickly took off one of the earphones and put it in his ear.

MC: The let’s listen for a while~

I leaned against Kiro’s body, quietly feeling the “music” in the earphones.

The sounds around me kept flowing and flowing into my ears. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and imagine the invisible scenes one by one--

The leaves fell on the ground with the wind and the fish flipped in the stream with splashes, water droplets falling from a height….

These sounds automatically filled the picture inside my mind, drawing every detail. I couldn’t help but laugh softly.

Kiro: MC, what are you laughing at?

I opened my eyes and found that he had seemed to have been looking at me the whole time.

MC: I was just imagining the scenes of these sounds and I thought that the experience this time was amazing.

MC: I haven’t finished yet, why are you laughing!

I said, poking at the corner of his raised mouth.

Kiro: Because I found myself thinking the same thing as you. 

Kiro: So I can’t help but feel…. very, very happy.

Suddenly, a ray of sunlight seemed to pierce through the clouds and shoot straight down, making the surroundings shine brightly.

Even the porcelain doll hanging on Kiro’s backpack was shining brilliantly.

[Fourth Part]

As it was getting late, Kiro and I were passing by the small pool in the backyard with a “full load” when he suddenly stopped.

MC: What’s happening?

Kiro glanced at the pool next to him, his eyes flickering slightly.

Kiro: MC, do you want to cool down? 

Although my clothes weren’t soaked, the sweat from my forehead kept coming.

I looked at the cold pool and couldn’t help nodding.

We put down the equipment in our hands, turned on the hose and walked towards the pool.

He sat down by the pool first and then stretched out his hand to me.

I thought he was going to help me sit down but I didn’t expect him to gently pull me to sit on his lap.

Kiro: There is mud on the ground. Sit with me.

As if guessing what I would do next, he wrapped his arms around my waist and tightened them.

MC: I’m….I’m not afraid of getting dirty.

I blushed and retorted but did not continue to struggle. My feet splashed the water gently.

The water splash sounded continuously and it blended into the surrounding cicadas seamlessly--

This is the sound of summer.

I couldn’t help but lean my head on his shoulder and the porcelain doll was reflected by the moonlight in the corner of my eye.

Thinking of its story, I couldn’t help but feel something in my heart and spoke slowly.

MC: This porcelain doll may represent a lot of people. Despite being “broken”, it felt that it was not a big deal.

MC: But over time, more and more cracks in the body began to make it incomplete….

MC: When I think about it, it must feel empty.

Kiro lowered his head, his breath lightly brushed my cheek.

He looked at me quietly, his eyes seemed to be mixed with inexplicable emotions.

MC: However, I’m not worried about this situation!

MC: Because I have you, Kiro.

MC: Whenever I encounter problems in life and work, I will face them more positively as much as possible.

MC: Because of you, I am not afraid of anything.

I couldn’t help laughing and there was a little splash on my feet.

Kiro: Mm, Miss Chips has me. 

Kiro: I hope you are always happy.

His tone was with undeniable certainty and a warm current suddenly surged in my heart.

MC: However, Kiro, you also have me.

MC: I will also make you happy forever and ever.

Kiro looked at me deeply and suddenly widened his eyes slightly as if thinking of something.

Kiro: I seem to have a new idea!

He raised the corners of his mouth and hummed a brisk melody on the spot.

MC: Is this your new song? It seems different from the demo before.

Different from the soothing tune before, the melody this time is light and free; as soft as lying on a cloud.

Kiro: Because MC has changed it. 

MC: Eh, how did I change it?

Kiro wrapped his arms around me tightly again and looked at me softly.

Kiro: Before, I wanted to awaken some of the beautiful memories that people hadn’t noticed and retrieve the lost goodness.

Kiro: But there are actually more powerful ideas than this, like a porcelain doll, for example.

Kiro: Even if it doesn’t get its lost fragments back, it can still use the leaves, petals and grass that pass by to complete itself again--

Kiro: It can have a new ending in the future!

Kiro looked straight at me, his eyes full of stars.

Kiro: In fact, we can also re-decorate with the beauty around us and become who we are now. 

Kiro: Just like how you have been by my side, I became the current Kiro.

Kiro: When I am happy, you turn it into double happiness. When I am tired, you will be my power bank. When I’m frustrated….

Kiro: You are the reason that I won’t fall down.

Kiro: I accepted all the “fragments” you gave me and became my current self; a better Kiro.

Each word he spoke pulled my heartstrings inadvertently.

MC: Kiro….

Before I finished speaking, there was a sound of water pouring coming from the hose.

I don’t know why the hose was still trickling just now. A large amount of water came gushing out of it and began to dance in the air.

Kiro and I couldn’t avoid getting most of our bodies soaked and he hurriedly reached out to hold the hose in a panic.

Just as Kiro had grasped it, the hose sprayed me.

I instinctively turned my head and threw myself into Kiro’s arms, but my lips brushed against something soft.

I immediately lowered my head and buried it in his neck.

Kiro: What’s wrong? Why is your face suddenly hot? 

MC: It’s nothing. It’s just a bit hot.

Suddenly, his chest trembled slightly, as if he has seen through my cover and was trying his best to hide a laugh.

Kiro: Oh~ So that’s the case. Let me cool you down.

As soon as the voice fell, he raised the hose in his hand and pointed it at me at a relatively safe distance.

The jet of water brushed my ears, bringing a comfortable icy coolness.

Kiro: Is it cooler now?

I subconsciously looked away and responded to him in somewhat of a daze.

MC: Okay, much better, thank you!!

Kiro: Now that you’ve said thank you, can I ask for another reward?

MC: ….What do you want?

Kiro: I want Miss Chips to replicate the moment with me before. 

He seemed to be deliberately reminding me that he was very close to me, his hot breath blew from the tip of his nose.

I stared at him blankly and finally looked at his lips.

My thoughts flooded like a tide, and my lips suddenly became a little hot.

MC: You are shameless….!

Kiro: No, I’m asking for it honestly. 

Seeing him blinking his eyes cheekily, I wanted to laugh.

MC: Well….

I took a deep breath, held his face and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

In the next second, a jet of water splashed my ears-- 

Kiro: That one just now doesn’t count. Do it again.

MC: Kiro!

As soon as the voice fell, he touched the tip of my nose, his eyes locked onto my face.

Kiro: I want more than that.

His soft voice crept into my ears, leaving traces of tickling.

Kiro: Those lost fragments….

Kiro: Let me fill them in for you.

After he finished speaking, he closed his eyes and my lips were instantly covered by a soft touch. His breath is sweet, like a fruit gummy.

He seemed to pour out all the hidden emotions that he couldn’t express out into this kiss, which was long and uncontrollable.

I also close my eyes and responded softly. In fact, I still have a lot to say.

I want to tell him--

Actually, you have done more for me.

You have brought light to me, and you have made me more courageous to look forward to a better future.

Because of you, I gradually became a better version of myself.

End

The call that comes after the date can be found here!

[kenzumekodma]

Just Friends

Satoru Gojo x reader

wc: 1.4k

notes: please be kind, i haven’t written fics since 2013 and i’m v rusty. also i’m sure gojo is ooc but i’m too tired to care at this point

You pull the sheets up around your chest, the air cooling your skin a little too much for your liking without Gojo’s body over yours. He rolls over and faces you with his head propped up on his hand.

”That’s a record, isn’t it?” he teases with a cocky smirk. “Three weeks before you came crawling back to me.” 

You roll your eyes and give him a little laugh. “Do you ever stop flattering yourself Gojo?”

”Satoru,” he corrects.

”I’ll call you by your first name when I’ve seen you in the daylight,” you counter. That’s the one hard rule you have with yourself and with Gojo. No first names, no matter how many times you find yourself back in his bed after a breakup. It’s been a year and a half and this is the third ex he’s made you forget about. If you’re honest with yourself, it’s not like you were even thinking of your exes while you were with them. Keeping the white haired man at an arm’s length was the only thing that let you stay sane, that let you think about others. He was upfront in the beginning about this being casual and you were more than happy to agree. 

“You know, you’ve never told me about any of them before,” he hums. Of course you didn’t, how could you tell him anything about them without him reading between the lines? You’ve told him about your job, your friends, the book you’re reading... But you’ll dance around the subject of romantic partners until the day you and Gojo stop playing around, you vow. Your lips curl into a sad smile.

”They weren’t anything to write home about, that’s about it really.”

”(Y/n), you can tell me. You listen to whatever shit comes out of my mouth. It’s only fair,” Gojo says, his eyes softening. :readmore:

“Well... This last one, he just couldn’t take control of a situation. His indecisiveness killed it for me,” you sigh. And it isn’t totally a lie. Gojo just doesn’t need to know that it was him who made that such an important trait you wanted in a partner.

”He couldn’t take control, you say?” he leans in, pressing a kiss to your neck. “You like men who act like they’re in charge, then?” he murmurs.

”Like you don’t know that already, smug bastard,” you sigh, closing your eyes. An involuntary moan escapes your throat as Gojo bites down at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

”Now, now, kitten. You know good girls speak with respect. Why don’t you try that again?” he suggests. His mouth trails down your collarbone, pulling the sheet down to expose your form as he goes. You gasp as he takes one of your nipples between his teeth and rolls his tongue around it.

”I- ah! I’m sorry, Sir,” you manage to get out before he punctuates your apology for you with a sharp flick of his tongue against your nipple. Gojo raises his head up to yours, inches away. Impatient as ever, you lean forward to close the distance only for the sorcerer to pull back at the last second, a playful glint in his eyes.

”So much more formal than earlier, kitten,” he tuts. “I think Daddy needs to remind you to loosen up again.”

You nod, feeling your neck and face heat up. Why? You groan internally. Why were you dumb enough to start thinking about him like that while he’s still in the room. But thinking isn’t in Gojo’s plan for you. No, the way he licks up your cunt with his tongue flat makes it abundantly clear that he’s intending to fuck you dumb. You push your head back into the pillow, eyes screwing shut in frustration as he avoids your clit.

”(Y/n), kitten,” Gojo pulls back and you whine in protest at the loss of contact. “Look at me, look at me. That’s a good girl.” He chuckles as he feels your cunny drool at his words. “Who are you again, kitten?” His tongue dives between your folds, fucking you with it.

“‘m.. ah! ‘M Daddy’s good girl!” You whine, unable to help the way your hips grind into Gojo’s face. Your hand snakes down your body to find that sweet friction you need on your clit but it’s caught in a tight grip. Gojo pulls back and slaps your clit, causing you to let out an undignified yelp.
“Somehow, Daddy doesn’t believe you, kitten. I think you’re going to have to prove it now.”

You pout at him. “Please, Daddy, I didn’t mean it. I’ll make sure to be good,” you plead.

”I know you will. All you have to do for me to be good is to cum,” he informs you. “From me fucking you only. If you pull that shit again you won’t deserve Daddy’s cock.” You nod, please’s tumbling from your lips, anything to get Daddy’s mouth on your core again. “There’s my good girl,” he smiles. Fondly, it looks...? No, no overthinking, you tell yourself. Let Daddy fuck the thoughts right out of your head.

Gojo kisses your thighs, leaving little nips and bites on his way back to your soaking core. You moan a little louder than you intend to when he glides his flexed tongue inside you, turning into a whimper as he adds a finger alongside it. The sight of him between your legs makes you clench around him. He trades his tongue for a second finger, face coming to rest up near yours. In the moonlight you can see a thin layer of your slick covering his lips and chin. He grins at you, taking in your glassy eyes and desperate expression.

”I think you can handle one more finger, kitten. Just one more for me, okay?” Gojo says. You nod, eagerly leaning up to kiss him and taste yourself on his lips. He swipes his muscle across yours. The heady taste of your slick mixed with the overwhelming pleasure of him stroking his fingers across the spongy spot on your walls. You groan into his mouth, a cold heat growing more and more urgent between your legs

”D-daddy... ‘m close...”

the white haired man catches your lip between his teeth, causing you to moan loudly. “Yeah, kitten? What do you say?”

”Please, please let me cum Daddy, I- I need it so badly please!” You babble, eyes scrunching up.

”Good girl... Go ahead,” Gojo whispers. With a mewl your drooling cunt clenches around his fingers as you fall over the edge of your release. You’re barely aware of the tiny ‘thank you’s spilling from your lips. Music to Gojo’s ears. He drags his thumb across your clit and you gasp. “You seemed so eager for it before, so I think you can cum for Daddy like that now.”

Your breath runs ragged as he fucks you through your high with his fingers. Gathering your slick up on them, he rubs soft circles on your clit, increasing in pressure the more you let him hear your sweet little moans. Without warning, you find yourself tumbling over into another orgasm. Gojo’s ministrations don’t stop, veering quickly from salvation to being the cause of the tears pricking at your eyes.

”D-daddy, ‘s too much...!” You cry out. “Please!”

Gojo’s face softens and he withdraws his hand from your body. “It’s alright kitten, we can stop here for now,” he reassures. You look at him with big eyes.

”Just... just need some time, ‘s really sensitive...” you say sheepishly. Gojo gives you a small smile, kissing your forehead. You shiver, the room really is too cold without him pressed up against you. In a fluid motion, Gojo slides out of the bed and takes his shirt off of the back of the chair on the other side of the room.

”Arms up, princess,” he says, sitting next to you and holding the shirt up. You comply, inhaling the bittersweet scent of the man you can’t forget. Long fingers stroke the hair around your forehead and you melt into the feeling. Just this once, you can let yourself pretend in the silence...

”(Y/n)... stay the night,” Gojo suggests. You bite your lip. “We can get breakfast tomorrow,” he follows up quickly, sensing your hesitation.

”I don’t know...” you trail off.

”(Y/n), please,” he tilts your head to face him eye to eye.

”Satoru...”

Gojo smiles softly at you. “Don’t pretend we’re just friends.”

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

EARLY BIRD

Angel Reyes x Reader

Anon asked: could you write an imagine with angel Reyes in which you think he’s gonna break up with you because he’s been distant with you.

Word Count: 1.9k

Thanks to my lovely beta reader @starrynite7114 ​ ✨

Author comments: I'm sorry it took me so long! I just needed some time away from my phone, 'cause I was feeling somewhat sick, but I'm back! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

Another morning, waking up in an empty bed and the next side to yours totally cold. You snort turning your body above it, pulling your hair away from your forehead with a hand. There's any noise outside of the bedroom, the one you were supposed to share with Angel because, probably, he left the house stealthily some hours ago. You don't know what's going on. You don't know what's happening between you. And at any time you have tried to talk with him about it, he only says that everything is okay and you're just a little paranoid. You want to believe him. You really try with all your efforts, but there's a bunch of insecurities getting stuck inside your chest oppressing it, that doesn't let air through.

✉: “hey, early bird”

You haven't thought about it, grabbing your phone to know if he is still alive, leaving it on the pillow where your head is resting. Some minutes laters, when you're almost falling asleep again, the advice dings turning on the screen.

✉: “eh”

That's all. And he keeps saying that nothing has changed. For sure.

✉: “you free 2nig?”

✉: “i think so”

      “y?”

✉: “we could have a night in”

     “dinner and movie”

     “hang out for beers”

✉: “am into first”

✉: “k! 7? 8?”

✉: “8 good”

✉: “k! ily”.

✉: “back”

You know he's not going to come, but at least you try it.

When the night is about to fall down plunging Santo Padre into the darkness of the desert, you begin to set up ready in case a miracle happens. Putting the steaks you bought at pops, in the pan with some oil and salt over low heat, you leave the kitchen to change your clothes. Wearing nothing but his favorite shirt, you spread on your neck and collarbone that fruity and fresh perfume he loves the most. And picking up your hair in a ponytail, you walk barefoot back to the kitchen. It's flooded by the delicious smell of the meat cooking slowly, turning them to the other side when it's getting golden. Leaving the food in the background, you go next to the freezer checking that the cold beers are ready to be drinked. You have popcorn, candies and chocolate for later. Everything is on point, even if you don't have much faith that he's going to come.

You weren't wrong.

At half past nine you're sitting on the couch, eating the cold steak you cooked and drinking the third beer. Angel didn't answer any of your messages, nor your calls. So, after trying to contact him for almost one hour, you decided to have dinner alone.

Another night.

The desire to cry floods you with leaps and bounds, grabbing the last piece from the fork in a bad mood before leaving the dish on the table and drinking your beer till it's empty. You fall asleep on the sofa some minutes after with your eyes filled with tears.

Although the door closes silently, you open your eyes getting up, stretching once you sit up. Angel looks like shit, tired and upset with his hair made a mess. Noticing sideways that the sun is almost shining, you don't say anything when he's about to apologize. Leaving him alone with the word in his mouth. You don't even pick up dinner stuff, going back to bed and throwing away the shirt you're on to wear yours. Covering your head with the blankets, you can hear Angel's heavy steps following to the bathroom to get locked in. The water running down the shower.

A fist hitting the marble.

And finally, a weary snort when the mattress sinks a little next to you.

“I was arrested.”

No words from you. He knows you're awake. Once your eyes are opened, it's impossible for you to fall asleep again.

“I really wanted to spend last night with you, mi amor.”

Nothing.

You don't even move.

“I'm so sorry.”

You try to get up, pulling away the blankets tired of hearing bullshit. Not understanding why he just doesn't tell you it's all over, assuming he doesn't because he hates loneliness and no matter how much he despises you, that you're going to come back once and again like a beaten dog faithful to its master. He never was like that, he just changed from nothing. From being the loveliest man to a ghost in your life. Angel grabs your wrist, stopping you from leaving him alone, but you can't look at his face.

You can't fall again.

“Stay, please.”

“I needed you to stay a lot of times, and you weren't even here.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, you already said that.”

With a heavy snort being spitted by your lips, you sit on the edge of the bed rubbing your face with both hands. Getting up and holding your phone in a hand, you guide your feet to the door looking for some coffee in the kitchen, to serve it inside a big mug.

“Emily is back and I am just trying to save EZ's ass. I didn't see I was abandoning you.”

Sounds like an explanation, but you don't really care. This hole between you two isn't going to get closed with some apologies and some kisses. He's going to have to make it up to you.

Hard.

“And when I’m saying I’m sorry, it's because I'm really sorry (Y/N).” He takes three steps closer towards you, with his hands keeping down inside the pockets of his short sweatpants. “I fucking love you. Nothing and nobody could change that. I swear on my mom.”

You have a sip of your coffee, closing your eyes when he names his mother for the first time in that way.

“Listen, I got to be back at the scrapyard in four hours. But this afternoon we're gonna go to a place.”

“Which place?”

“You'll see. And I know you're gonna like it.”

“But?”

There's always a ‘but’.

“But first I have to pick up a buddy, I promise him that he could stay with us”.

“What the fuck, Angel?!”

You're drowning in coughs, leaving the cup to hit your chest with a palm.

“(Y/N), trust me, okay? You will love him.”

“You're a fucking jerk.”

“Mi amor, listen.” He grabs your forearm, stopping you. “Trust me”.

“I can't fucking trust you. Not today. Not after telling me you were fucking arrested, and now telling me you're gonna bring a ‘buddy’ to our fucking house without asking me.”

“You're gonna regret those words this afternoon.”

“Yeah, but for that, you have to be here and you're not gonna come.”

Letting go yourself, you walk away from him. You can't believe this is truly happening, getting worse as the minutes go by.

Driving through the desert, you don't know where the hell you're going, hoping he's not bringing you to Vicki's place because one of the girls needs to hide. Even if he talked to you about a guy. Angel is giving you the directions you have to take, making your blood boil whenever you ask him about it and he just smirks at you with that kind of smile you would like to punch out.

And yes, it's a surprise when you reach Grace's kennel. Frowning at him as you stop your car, you try to keep calm.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Am I a fucking joke to you, Angel?”

“What?”

“I'm not gonna fucking bring a junkie to my house!”

“We're n— We're not he—”. He can't even talk, breaking into laughs stirring on his seat. “Step out of the car, mi amor.”

“No! You know what? We're fucking done! I can't! I can't handle it!”

You're getting so nervous you don't know what you are saying. Collapsing. Exploding. But seems like the oldest Reyes doesn't give a fuck if you are on the verge of an anxiety attack, when he takes off your seat belt before grabbing the keys of your car. Angel doesn't say anything, getting out of it and walking to your side. After opening your door, he holds your hand pushing you into him. And you just let him do what he wants with you.

“You ok?” Grace asks you somewhat confused and worried, looking at your pale face. Pursing your lips, you shrug your shoulders.

Seems like you're in shock, not understanding anything that is going on around you while your boyfriend guides your steps to the backyard of the kennel. You find a big black dog lying on the ground with a plastic cone covering his head from his neck and some bandages on his paws and his tail. Tail that he begins to move full of happiness walking with some difficulties close to Angel.

“See, buddy?! I told ya I was coming back for ya'!” Your boyfriend squats towards the dog to hug him, whilst the animal is crying a little, stirring and trying to lick his face.

“What? What's that?” You point at the dog with a finger.

“I was driving on my way back home, and I saw a fuckig shithead dragging him by the paws with a bike. I was arrested because he ended up unconscious”.

Pursing your lips, you can't help but cry slightly bending over the floor and stretching a hand on air, just wanting that he can smell you to see you don't want to hurt him. The dog brings his snout closer, sniffing your fingers for some seconds taking two steps next to you. His tail starts to move again, imagine that he's also smelling Angel's scent on your clothes.

“Hey, buddy. Nice to meet you”. Using a soft and low tone, the dog shortens the distance licking your face without expecting. That makes you laugh loudly.

“I know you feel alone when I’m riding and he doesn't have a home.” Angel says, waiting for you to finish spinning the matter by yourself. “See? I knew you were gonna regret your words.”

“Ugh, shut up.” You growl, drawing a smile to your new friend with his head rested on your chest, as you caress one of his sides.

“Is he okay?” Your boyfriend asks Grace, getting up as he does, being followed by the dog.

The women nods.

“He's strong. But I'll give you some pills for pain, in case he complains. And you should change the bandages every day. Bring him back next week and I'll check him.”

“Done. How much do I own you, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. Just take him to his new home.”

“Thank you, Grace.” You say before hugging her tightly.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” She said then, nodding at her.

“So, what's his name?” You ask Angel, walking back to the car with the dog practically glued to your legs.

“Caco”. He answers holding your hand, leaving a kiss on the back of it.

“So, I'm assuming the place where we’re going next is a pet shop, to buy him a lot of things.”

“Shit, mi amor, I got fucking horny every time you show me how smart you are.”

[paralumanleadmehome]

It’s been quite some time since I’ve last joined a contest and I honestly missed this feeling of trying to figure out what to write, how to write it, and how to deliver it exactly as you need to to impress the judges. It’s been so so long and welp. I’ve grown rusty and this is definitely not proof-read but all the same, thank you to @queenangst and everyone who had made this possible.

You brought me back a feeling I haven’t felt in so long.

This is my entry to queenangst’s BNHA gen contest: Finding Home 

(please see under the cut as this has 3.5k words and could be very long)

Finding Home

o.

It started out as a legend – two souls separated at creation, two souls that make up one whole, two halves of one soul completed upon connection.

Two becoming one.

But legends are legends for a reason – mythical, mysterious, only with a hint of a truth.

Soulmarks began appearing even before the dawn of quirks –little symbols that litter the body, one that you could only call your own. One that only you could share to whom you so ever desire. It varies in shapes and colors, some being a butterfly tinged in red and orange, others an ocean wave the shade of green, and to some more, it covers a palm, a thigh, a foot. Unlike its legendary counterpart, however, a soulmark does not lead you to a soulmate. Instead, it leads you to one where you can feel whole.

A soulmark is a symbol of love and friendship given in trust and good faith – one that cannot be taken, one that only be passed on.

A soulmark is a symbol of warmth and everlasting connection – one that is stronger than flesh and blood.

A soulmark is a symbol of home – one that you choose for yourself.

One person can have as many as the stars in the sky and as few as the petals of a clover.

And Izuku? Izuku only has his own, his mother’s, and the black mark of one Bakugo Katsuki.

After all, no one wants to share the mark of a useless, quirkless, little Deku.

And so, however sacred, Kacchan had cut his own connection with Izuku, both of them bearing the ashen remnants of a once golden sun and a viridian shooting star – the pain of which Izuku found more unbearable than the explosions that kissed his skin.

And Izuku no longer believed in soulmates.

Not when the world was so intent on pushing him down and pushing him away, not when no one would stand up for him and with him, not when the only love and care he had ever known came from the woman who had loved him the most.

So Izuku never shared the mark on his wrist with anyone, never the light of the shooting star that brightens up the dark sky, never the stardust that falls on the earth, never the ray of hope he had held even in the darkest of times, keeping it hidden in long sleeves, wristwatches, and bandages. And at all times he keeps covered the blackened sun that rests on his heart, refusing to see the ashes of a friendship no longer alive, refusing to acknowledge the searing pain that would accompany the sight. Instead, as always, he keeps close the mint green lotus that rests on the base of his right ear, his eyes never not seeing it each morning, afternoon, and night – the one and only reminder that he is loved.

He is loved.

He is loved.

And he lets himself be content with that.

i.

The first of many soulmarks that Izuku will treasure came from the man that he had idolized his whole life.

Yagi Toshinori, for all his time as the Symbol of Peace (and more the time he had spent alive), only carries with him four marks, not counting his own. Izuku doesn’t ask when he sees. He doesn’t think it is polite to, especially when most people aren’t interested in bonding with a quirkless child (and although All Might already knew he was quirkless and didn’t deny him this chance to train, the man’s initial denial of his dream still stings). He doesn’t ask about the faded crescent moon that rests on his collarbone (it isn’t nice to ask about the dead, after all), nor about the black spaded horse on his left ankle (he was shocked at first, upon seeing this lost connection, and his heart ached at the thought that even All Might had to bear the pain of losing someone he had once loved so dearly). He doesn’t ask about the violet sigil of a fish on his shoulder blade nor the diamond glasses near his scar. He doesn’t ask about any of these things.

Instead he asks about experiences – what was it like to be a hero of his caliber? Was he ever afraid of anything? Was there ever a time that he was unable to save someone? What was he like as a student? Did Dagobah Beach mean something special to him? Things that the world weren’t privy to – things that he didn’t know were personal.

Things that would’ve only been known if All Might had chosen him as his soulmate.

And All Might did.

One day, at Dagobah Beach, after the world had finally met the man behind All Might, Toshinori Yagi had offered his ocean blue sunflower tucked on the opposite side of where the faded moon resided and had asked Izuku if he had wanted to carry his soulmark.

And Izuku… flinched.

Because to hold another’s soulmark would mean to be aware of them at all times – to feel their warmth despite the distance, to know with one brush of a hand the feelings that lay in their hearts, to give them comfort even in the presence of an absence.

To bear a soulmark is to be eternally connected.

And Izuku had been burned by the loss of it.

And he is scared, afraid, terrified – because to be All Might’s successor is one thing. To be given his quirk and his legacy is a dream come true but to be his soulmate? To be near him? To know him and be known by him in return? It’s terrifying.

And yet… and yet… Izuku takes this fear and lets it be known.

In quiet whispers, jumbled words, and a steady stream of tears.

Because deep down, Izuku longs to be connected.

And it is in the act of letting someone close does he remember what it feels like to be loved.

ii.

The second one, surprisingly, came in the form of a little girl.

A quiet, frightened, injured little girl who had ran away from a monster of a man.

Eri bumped into him during his first patrol with Lemillion and this mess of child with a stature so small and eyes too scared clung to him for dear life – and Izuku’s soul ached.

Izuku took one look at the man with the bird mask, one look at Lemillion, one look at this little girl, and made up his mind.

“Eri,” he whispered, “do you trust me?”

It was a stupid question, he knew, but a soulmark is something to be given in trust – a treasure to be received in good faith.

“You’re good,” Eri answered just as softly, little hands clinging to his costume. “You’re warm.”

Izuku doesn’t know if Eri feels the same pull, the same fierce protectiveness that forces its way into his heart, and he knows that this is more his own desire to keep her safe than any other force telling him that she was a part of his own soul.

Because Eri mattered regardless.

And Eri was worth keeping safe.

So for the first time in a long time, Izuku removes the bandage that hides his own soulmark and he shows it to Eri.

“This will keep you safe for me,” he tells her, “this will let you know I’m here.”

In the background he hears the tense conversation coming to a halt, sees the way the man’s eyes turn to look at Eri, and he knows he doesn’t have time.

“This is a promise.”

And Eri stares at it for little while, hands reaching to the shooting star. “A promise,” she repeats, and with a little nod and hopeful eyes, Izuku places a finger on her arm, just beneath her sleeves, and let their foreheads touch.

The words come to him unbidden, the way words do when you give someone a piece of your soul – a promise to be fulfilled, a wish to be granted, a part of you that will forever be a part of them.

“I will always come for you.”

And he did.

iii.

Not counting his own nor Kacchan’s, Izuku has two soulmarks on his body.

One from his mother, another from All Might.

He didn’t ask for Eri’s and she hadn’t offered in return.

Eri was as afraid of her soulmark as much as she is afraid of her quirk.

Cursed, she calls the silver dove wreathed in yellow petals on her ankle. Cold, she thinks of it. It will still be a long way to go, Izuku assumes, but as long as Eri can feel his warmth, his presence, that would be enough.

The third one, interestingly enough, was in the image of an aquamarine heart, with its curves jagged and cornered, just as a gem so precious and true.

Kouta gave it to him as gift, as a thank you, as something for Izuku to remember him by.

Kouta didn’t ask for Izuku’s own soulmark, didn’t even breathe a word about it. Instead the little boy ran up to him, little arms wrapping him in a hug, and said,

“I’ll always be cheering you on.”

And when Izuku sees the way Kouta’s soulmark shine, he accepted it without a second thought.

And when Kouta pulled away afterwards, face pulled in a frown, Izuku tried to ignore the fear that stabbed his own heart. He wondered if he would make a world record, an ashen mark as soon as he had received it, but Kouta dispelled his fears just as easily.

“That felt weird,” Kouta said. Izuku blinked at him, his mind taking a minute to process, until he caught up. Then he laughed and laughed because he feels exactly what Kouta feels – the disappointment, the confusion, the curiosity… and the underlying overwhelming emotion of it all.

Unbridled joy.

The elation of having someone know you – of being accepted, treasured, remembered.

He also felt the embarrassment that followed as Kouta turned as red as his shoes.

iv.

The soulmark exchange with Shinsou had been quiet.

It happened on the night of their second year when they both stumbled upon each other in the kitchen at the forsaken 2am hour did Shinsou spring up the topic.

“You don’t have that many soulmarks, do you?” the question was genuine, as far as Izuku can tell, and although the boy was rough around the edges, he knew it was due to the fact that Shinsou had so little support in life and was untrusting of all that Izuku had felt a kindred spirit in that regard.

They have observed the people around them, of course, and have noticed that everyone at least had five. A family member, a best friend from childhood, a classmate they never got lost in contact with.

Izuku stole a glance at the back of his right hand, at the blue heart settled at base of his forefinger and thumb and hummed an agreement. “No, I don’t,” he agreed, letting stiff fingers be warmed by his tea. He doesn’t return the question to Shinsou, knowing that it was a touchy subject for the other boy, but he did wonder, “Why do you ask?”

They don’t talk about it much, these colorful marks on their skin. They don’t talk about how a brush of hand over the little symbols can feel as warm as an embrace, how fear isn’t so scary when someone else sends you courage, how silence isn’t deafening when someone knows to listen.

It is in moments like these that they listen.

Izuku listens to Shinsou’s own quiet humming, the way the gears in his mind seem to move, the way he figures out how to phrase the words he wants to say next. And Izuku has been thinking about it – had been for the past few months.

Will his classmates ever want a piece of his soul?

He could tell that Uraraka does. He could tell that Iida would want one, too, but a soulmark is something that’s rarely asked for due to its sacred nature – it is freely given, after all, and never to be taken lightly. And Izuku had never offered. He had wanted to, of course, but he knows how messy his mind can get. He knows how anxious he can be. It’s why he had given his to Eri in a pace that is both hidden and seen, something she had to reach out for so she could feel. Izuku could not yet know what Eri is thinking or feeling, nor will he ever have inkling to unless she so desired, and Izuku is completely fine with that.

After all, a soulmark is a connection of souls – but it didn’t have to be an exchange. What it did mean though is that for one who bears the soul of another is to be aware of them – to be able to feel their warmth and develop an understanding of their soul. It is not to read their minds nor to know everything about them, but it is about the intimacy of knowing someone and being known.

A commitment.

A promise.

Like an artwork waiting to be completed, like a dance you can take to heart, a soulmark is connection that bridges the gap between someone you know and someone you choose forever.

“I don’t get it,” Shinsou finally said, and Izuku turned his eyes to him, the question lost in his tongue. “You have a strong and flashy quirk, you have so many people who love you and would fight the world for you, heck Uraraka and Iida would probably murder someone for you if you ask them, and yet you don’t have their marks and… they don’t have yours. I know I’m not good at this thing but at the very least, people give their marks away as easy as they’re giving candy. And you guys are pretty close, so I don’t get it.”

And the pain of burning that bridge is the same as losing a piece of your soul. Izuku absentmindedly reaches for his heart, the ashen remains of Kacchan’s soulmark embedded on his skin still, and he tries his best to forget.

Izuku looks instead at the clock in the kitchen, noting that it’s only 2:17am, and asks if Shinsou would like to listen to a story.

And they left the kitchen at 5:00am, only to crash in the couch, heart heavy yet full, mind settled and secured, souls at ease, and both boys sharing a mark they never expected to kiss their skin.

v.

The night Izuku had laid bare his soul for someone else to see, when it was him who had reached out first before someone else had offered, when he had done it so willingly and freely, it felt as if something has shifted within him – and in all the remaining years he had spent in UA, he was able to garner a couple more soulmarks for his own. He finally had the pink milky way that was Uraraka’s, the red lighting storm that was Iida’s, and Todoroki’s fiery white snowflake.

And to think that before all of this, before meeting All Might, before knowing these people and being known in return, Izuku was afraid and alone – afraid of the vulnerability that came along with letting people in.

To think that all he had ever thought about when he thought of soulmates were fireworks kissing his skin, long fingers bruising his arms, and taunts and jeers haunting his every waking moment – but now he is surrounded by love and warmth. Now when he thinks of soulmates, he thinks of mochi in the common kitchen, tea in hand; he thinks of morning jogs and healthy breakfast; he thinks of cold soba and cats; he thinks of unicorns and sprinkles and little kids and coloring books; he thinks of training sessions and laughter and peace.

Now when Izuku thinks of soulmates, he thinks of home.

And speaking of home, he can’t wait to get back to their apartment and give his mom the biggest of hugs. They had always called even when he was away and even when they would consistently send little taps through their soulmark, nothing still beats the warmth of a real embrace – and this is what Izuku fixes his mind on as he cleans out his dorm room, packing away every picture frame, books, notebooks, clothes, and figurines. Graduation is in a few days and after that, their debut to hero society. None of them would have enough time to clear out by then.

Izuku packs away the memories, just as he did each item that reminds him of it, and keeps them close in his heart. He packs away the ten million headband, the plushies from the cultural festival, the cards he had received from Eri and Kouta, and he tries his best not to feel emotional. He didn’t want to flood the dorms one last time, after all, but he did think it would be nice to have Aizawa-sensei scold him for being a problem child through and through but ultimately, it was the knock at his door that helps him succeed.

A knock, quiet and soft, and he opens the door to find Kacchan standing at the other side.  

Their relationship had improved over the years.

Kacchan is… less angry now, more settled. He’s still fiery and explosive but he doesn’t lash out anymore. Kirishima, Kaminari, the Bakusquad had been good to him and for him and Izuku had never been gladder about it. He had long stopped dreaming of the day that their relationship would be fixed – he and Kacchan had grown up, grown apart, and even when they drift back together, he is well aware that it would never be the same way again.

He doesn’t ask for it to.

He loves Kacchan, yes, with all his heart, but Izuku now knows that love does not have to be reciprocated for it to be real – but to still be loved in return is a precious treasure he keeps close.

“Hey, Kacchan, do you need something?”

And Kacchan looks at him, face pensive, mouth opening and closing, thinking and grasping and failing to think of the words he wants to say, and something in Izuku feels warm. After some time, the other boy settles with, “Are you busy?”

And if it was at any other time before, Izuku would’ve dropped everything that he had been doing and say no, he wasn’t busy, of course he had the time – but Izuku’s eyes sway to soulmarks on his arm and he steals a look at the digital clock by his table.

“I have thirty minutes,” was what Izuku told him. “I promised Todoroki we’d drop by the store to get his favorite soba since they’re not available near his house. I have time tomorrow morning thought if that works for you. I can cancel the morning jog with Iida if – “

“Thirty minutes is fine,” Kacchan answered back, cutting his rumbling off. It wasn’t harsh or angry. Just… very Kacchan-ish.

“Okay. Do you waant to step in? it’s a bit messy though, I still haven’t finished packing.”

And when Izuku heard the small tsk as he moved aside for Kacchan to pass through, he knew that the other boy won’t mind his mess. He felt a little grateful at that, to not be judged within the confines of his small room. They were silent for a few more second but it wasn’t the kind of silence that would make him uncomfortable. It was companionable, to say the least, and Izuku began picking up the pieces he had left before Kacchan had knocked and continued his packing. In another minute, Kacchan was helping him.

“Are you bringing the bookshelf home?”

“Nope, Aizawa-sensei said I could leave it here. Are you taking yours?”

“Thinking about it. Mine’s too small and I don’t want to waste money on something I can recycle. Do you have bubble wrap for the merch?”

“In the third drawer by the study table. I have newspapers too if that’s better.”

“Oh, Kacchan, that one goes in the other box.”

“Why? What’s the difference?”

“All my signed books are in one place.”

“Just how many posters do you fucking have?”

“Oh, come on, don’t pretend you don’t have just as many.”

“I’m not a hero-worshipping nerd like you, dumbass.”

“Says the guy who zonks out at 8pm.”

“Fuck you, asshole!”

“Kacchan, that’s limited edition!”

“I’m sorry.”

“…”

“For everything.”

“…”

“It was pretty messed up, the things I did, and I know sorry won’t fix this.”

“Can you pass me the tape, Kacchan?”

“…”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

“Please put this box by the bed.”

“Okay.”

“…”

“…”

“You’re right, I don’t have to forgive you.”

“…”

“But I already did.”

“Deku…”

“It won’t fix what’s broken and it won’t stop the sting from the soulmark but…”

“…”

“We’re better now, aren’t we?”

“…”

“Kacchan, we’re better now.”

“You missed the night light.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“…”

“…”

“And it’s only going to get better, right?”

“…”

“…”

“Of course.”

“You’re still a sappy piece of shit.”

“Well, I’m not the one who’s crying, am I?”

“Fuck you.”

“Whatever you say, Kacchan.”

[agentcherricola]

as for prompts iiiiiii think u should do a little kobracola smth (maybe in ur android au? if u want to?) not necessarily first kiss but yknow. them <3

[passion pit voice] i get carried away

u were absolutely right i did need to do a little kobracola. no real warnings on this one, just some detailed android makeouts! this one is for all my robot fuckers out there 👉👉

“Ah, jeez…” Cherri groaned, leaning back in his seat. He stretched his arms above his head, flexing his fingers and rolling out his wrists. He dropped them back on the workbench with a sigh. The intricate mechanism on his desk sat in front of him still, mocking him with its millions of incredibly tiny and fragile parts. Cherri’s wrists and shoulders throbbed at the thought of picking it back up.

“You ok?” Kobra piped up from his usual spot, cross-legged on Ghoul’s bench.

“Oh, yeah…” Cherri scrubbed his face with both hands. “Jus’ tired, I guess. This thing is so delicate, I’m just bein’ too careful.”

Kobra tilted his head. “Know what it does yet?”

“Not a clue.” The stuffy air in the workshop hung around them. It made Cherri sweat. With a sigh, he leaned back over his desk. He heard Kobra slink down off the bench and cross behind him. As he gripped his pliers too tight, a hand came to rest on the back of his neck.

“You should probably take a break…you’ve been starin’ at that thing for three hours, twenty-six minutes, and...well, now twenty-seven.” Kobra ran his hand firmly up and down Cherri’s neck. He rubbed at the divot at the base of his skull with his thumb, being extra careful to apply just the right amount of pressure. Kobra figured he must be doing it right, because Cherri let his head drop.

“Has it been...that long?”

Kobra just brought his other hand to the other side of his neck and rubbed the sides, trailing up to press his temples and behind his ears. Involuntarily, Cherri’s grip released on the pliers and they clattered on the tabletop. But Cherri barely registered, as his eyes fluttered shut and he sighed, shoulders sagging slightly.

Kobra smiled to himself. He catalogued every reaction Cherri elicited with any kind of touch, the most fascinating subject he’d learned in his time out in the desert. Like, if he ran a hand through Cherri’s hair at the nape of his neck and gripped, like so-

“Fuck!” Cherri gasped.

Kobra did it again, a little harder.

“Oh, shit, Kobra…”

“Hm?” he replied, innocently.

Cherri glanced up at him over his shoulder, grinning a little with parted lips. “You wanna take a break?”

Kobra nodded eagerly.

That was all the convincing Cherri needed, apparently, as he stood and all but crashed into Kobra, backing the other boy up against Ghoul’s workbench. He kissed him hard against the side of the table.

Kobra, delighted, fisted his hands in Cherri’s shirt to pull him closer. Cherri must have done his own studying as well, because when he pressed a hand flat against Kobra’s lower back, Kobra’s lips parted with a gasp and Cherri slipped his tongue in.

It was maybe their second or third make out session when Kobra confessed how much he liked the feeling of Cherri’s tongue against his. Or anywhere, really. It left a taste in his mouth Kobra wasn’t used to, but never got tired of. Cherri admitted how much he liked it, as well. Droid’s mouths were a new experience, surprisingly soft and enticingly warm. It wasn’t wet, as droids don’t spit, but Kobra’s mouth was always supple and slick when Cherri explored it with his tongue. He’d admitted to thinking about Kobra’s mouth in other places, but he assured him that they could go as slow as Kobra wanted. Kobra had just responded with a hungry look that Cherri still hadn’t stopped thinking about.

Although Kobra could have just let Cherri kiss him like this for hours, Cherri pulled away just a hair. He was already breathless, and he tapped the bench behind them twice with his hand.

“Hop up,” he instructed.

Kobra quickly climbed up and sat, and Cherri stepped in between his legs. He kissed Kobra’s neck, gentler than before. Kobra didn’t bruise, they learned, so hickies were out. But Cherri still pressed one hot, open-mouthed kiss after another against the smooth skin of Kobra’s throat.

“Fuck...Cherri,” Kobra whined. The calloused hands covering his thighs kept him anchored to the table, and he tilted his head back for better access.

Cherri let one hand trail down Kobra’s leg. He hooked it behind the other boy’s knee and gave it a little tug.

“Here, you can wrap your legs around me, like this.”

Kobra let Cherri guide one of his legs, and he followed with the other, hooking his ankles together right at the base of Cherri’s spine. They both adjusted to the new position, and Kobra’s fans turned on when he felt how close they were now.

“Mmm, I like this,” Kobra said, grinning down at Cherri.

“Me too.” Cherri closed the distance to kiss him. Now his hands wandered to Kobra’s ass where they just rested for the moment.

Kobra’s hands threaded through Cherri’s hair, not tugging just yet. He nibbled Cherri’s lower lip, pulling it between his teeth. The resulting groan made him grin. Anything he could do to draw out those sounds, he did.

“Hey, no one’s doin’ any broadcasts right now, right?” Kobra mumbled against Cherri’s lips.

“Don’ think so. Why?”

“No reason.” With a sharp tug, Kobra pulled Cherri’s head back by his hair and dove in to kiss where his neck met shoulder.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Jus’ don’t want the whole desert to hear us,” Kobra said with a laugh against his skin.

Cherri laughed too, cut off with a sharp breath when he felt Kobra’s teeth brush his collarbone.

“Rascal. Next time I spend the night at the diner, I’m gonna make you scream, see how you like it.”

“D’you promise? I got some ideas…”

[vanchlo]

Effervescent

Blurb Synopsis: During your break, instead of going to the stuffy staff break room, you wander outside into the cool air by the waterpark. Unbeknownst to you, there you meet a bubbly stranger in the hot tub, and never again is your life the same. 

Genre: 2015 Harry, fluff, and romance.  

Word Count: 4.6k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: Champagne Supernova by Oasis (click to listen bc I love this song and it fits the theme I think?)

P.S. - Funny story, I found this in my Notes and I had started writing this in 2016. Crazy. I liked rereading it and figured I’d finish it, so don’t be too hard on me, please. Enjoy! ;) 

It was the dead of winter, but you couldn’t spend any more time inside, or in that lousy closet of a break room with your coworkers for another minute. They were well past getting on your last nerve, and you weren’t going to let them ruin your one slice of ‘me time’ today. 

Squeaky children’s voices and the sound of water hits your ears as you take a shortcut. The door opens with a little punch! when you press on the horizontal bar. Cold air meets your clammy skin quickly, refreshing you. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as your sweaty back meets the cold surface of the glass door. Pebbles grind beneath your feet and birds caw in the distance. When you turn to look around like any regular human being, you almost run right back into the door when you see the head of brown hair a few feet away, bobbing out of the water. 

“Didn’ mean t’ scare ya, love, ‘m sorry,” the mannish-boy says, pushing his long wet hair off of his face with his ringed fingers. 

“N-No it’s fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, I’ll just-.”

“No, ’s okay. Ya gonna have a smoke or sumthin’?” he questions. Your head goes from side to side in answer. Meanwhile, he nods as steam rises from around him out of the round bubbling hot tub he sits alone in. His tattooed arms float on the surface, moving with the water slowly. 

“I was just getting some air on my break. I couldn’t stand to be in the break room not getting a minute to myself alone.”

“Ah, I can’ blame ya. I hate people like that when ‘m not in tha mood, they’re bloody annoying. Neva shut up, it seems,” he quips, his long pink lips spreading into his flawless white smile. 

“Yeah, you have no idea.”

He continues to smile at you, and the nagging thoughts poking at your mind all day are gone for a moment. “Why dontcha come over here? Gimme some company, how ‘bout?” he suggests, trying to wave you over. Water falls fast and long from his tall round bicep. Yeah, nope.

“I don’t think I should,” you respond, but those words couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“Ah c’mon, love, ‘m bored as fook by meself out ‘ere. Come talk t’ me, will you?” he says, moving slowly. Part by small part, you see more of his tan chest as he sits on the underwater bench with his back against the dark tiles. Black swallows fly under his collarbones, and a gleaming silver necklace surrounding his throat dangles down his chest. 

“I don’t want to get in trouble, or something.”

“Yer not gonna cuz yer not botherin’ me. Even if somebody said anythin’, why would I have any reason t’ back ‘em up, huh? Yer not causin’ me any harm, and I wann’ talk t’ ya,” he continues, and it’s hard to refuse. He’s a good negotiator, and you’re slowly becoming an icicle second by second. 

“Aren’t you here with anybody?” you ask as your feet slowly pad on the gray cement over to him. He leans forward absentmindedly playing with the bubbles, while still keeping eye contact. 

“No,” he answers softly with a helpful shake of his head. Your eyes follow his hands that cup some of the bubbly foam in his long fingers. 

You sink to your knees and then your butt when he gives you a look. His green eyes hold a question as his thick brown eyebrows furrow along with his rose lips. Wincing when your butt touches the cold cement, you cross your legs as your arms go around your tall legs. 

“Here,” he mumbles out of nowhere. A fluffy white hotel towel lands at your side in a blink. “Don’ wantcha t’ freeze yer bum off.”

Your lips drop a short ‘thanks’ as you awkwardly place it under your bottom to ward off the cold. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes and you giggle a rosy cheeked laugh. 

“Wha’?” 

“Nothing,” you sigh with the laugh beginning to wear off, cheeks pinched with red and warmth. 

“Ya got a pretty smile, ya know that?”

“You’re so cliche, do you know that?” you reply and he scoffs, with a held out ‘ruuuude’ leaving his happy lips. “But thank you.”

The hot water bubbles against the side only inches away, so close and yet so far away. Your sweaty Converses and gross socks covering your clammy feet itch to join him. A black polo shirt and khaki skinnies don the rest of your shivering body. A tinge of awkwardness hangs in the air between you and this stranger. Frequent shared glances holding tiny smiles and questions you know the both of you want to ask float between you. 

“How long have ya worked here?” 

“Too long,” you quip, and his lips turn up again. You realize that you really like it when you make him smile, no matter how little. He has a pretty smile, and it goes past the chill and warms you up to the bone. 

Water droplets cling to his skin every place and everywhere. The heat in the water flushes his skin, especially his cheeks which remain a soft pink. It doesn’t compare to the warm pink of his lips that he plays with, with both his tongue and his fingers. Please never wake me up from this dream. 

You play with the frayed laces on your black low tops, the muffled screams from inside tickling your ears along with the somewhat calming sound of the bubbling water. It invites you in, more and more. 

“C’mon, you,” he mumbles. You look up, startled to find him sitting before you, floating in the water. His wet hands wrap around the tan ankles of your pants, and you nearly yelp. 

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Get yer shoes off already, at least dip yer toes in. Makin’ me feel all bad, cuz ya look like yer freezin’ yer bits off sittin’ there. I wish ya could  come in with me,” he replies. By now, he’s already worked one of your shoes off. 

“No, please. You don’t want to do that.”

“Yesssss, I do. They’re jus’ feet, darlin’, we all have ‘em,” he titters, flinging the shoe to the side and then the other one. That leaves you in a mismatched pair of ankle socks; blue and red stripes on the left and a Batman one donning your other foot. 

He makes a grinning comment about ‘your cute socks’ as his warm fingers tickle the sliver of skin between your pant leg and socks. 

“Alright, buddy,” you tell him, trying to pull your legs away. His hands encircle both of your ankles and he looks back at you, grinning with his tongue poking out between his teeth. 

“No, jus’ dip yer feet in, pleaseeee.”

“Okay fine, just let me take them off myself. I don’t need a stranger getting comfy feeling up my nasty feet,” you joke, looking up briefly to catch his reaction. The cute as fuck dimples in the middle of his cheeks are beginning to fall and grow deeper before a laugh rumbles through his chest. 

How cute can he get?

“Suit yerself. I woulda taken up tha offer, but tha’s jus’ me.”

“That’s because you’re a weirdo,” you answer, voice breaking into a laugh as you roll up the socks into one ball and set them to the side. You thank your past self for getting that cheap ass manicure the other day. 

“Takes one t’ know one,” he comments, holding his hands up like you’d do when you say ‘I don’t know’ as his wet hair begins to curl at the end. It’s long and almost touches his broad shoulders, and you continue to have a hard time believing this shit is real. That he’s real, and talking to you. 

It takes a second to get used to the water when you dive in, well the few inches that swallows up your feet, give or take. You admit it feels good, but you wouldn’t admit it out loud to him, because it’d only fuel his witty fire. 

He splashes water at you, but you get him back quickly. He even blows bubbles with his mouth and then spits the water at you. You retaliate by jabbing him in the side with your feet under the water. Uncalled for jokes fly from him, and sometimes good comebacks from you. These float into aloud thoughts about favorite foods, ranging from cold ice cream, to slushies, and to chocolate cake. Begging comes from his side about you ditching the rest of work and joining him for real. 

It all sounded so good, and it was so good. 

He’s humming some song you know but can’t put a name to, making little noises with his lips. His fingers tickle the bottom of your feet, every now and then. When you rarely take your eyes off him, you notice more about him. His skin remains flushed, and when your eyes fall to your watch, you feel yours flush too. You sense your heart drop inside your chest, which makes you feel dramatic and lame, but you can feel it there hanging heavily a little lower. 

You look back to him, sitting close to you with his head leaned back on the edge of the fake rock surface. His eyes are closed and lips humming a song again. With a quiet sigh, you draw your feet back and out, drying them with the towel, trying to leave it still usable for him. Slipping your socks back on is a sticky process with grunting. At the sound of the second or third one, his swimming green eyes open and dart to you questioningly.

“What, where’re you goin’?” he asks, sitting up and turning towards me.

“I have to go back to work, my break is up.”

“What, no,” he frowns and you giggle. He’s funny, but you know he doesn’t mean it. You hardly know him, and he doesn’t even know you. It was fun while it lasted, a nice little distraction, but now you have to go back to reality. 

“I’m sorry.”

“’s okay,” he replies, looking away from you and down, playing with the foamy bubbles with his pruney fingers. 

“Thanks for . . I don’t know what to thank you for really.”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it. Thank ya, too,” he smiles at you as you stand up. Maneuvering your heel into your right shoe, that’s always the tricky one, it slips in after a few seconds of trying as he stares up at you. Although an understatement, it pains you to leave. 

“Bye, love.”

“Bye,” you mumble quietly, walking to the door and stealing one last look at him as you open it and step inside. You’re granted to never see him again - the cute and sweet hot tub guy. No, don’t go making up nicknames for him now. 

You wish that you could thank him, but you don’t even know his name. 

*

The day dragged on, turning up rooms and putting them back together. You cleaned this and that, and everything in between. At times, you were sweating like a whore in church, and your back and feet ached constantly. 

By the time your shift ended, it had grown dark and the stars were peeking out from the black of the sky. Getting off the elevator, you walk down the hall and find the lobby. Suddenly, your feet bring you somewhere else, through the emptying water park and to the fogged up door. Your fingers wrap around the cold metal bar and you prepare yourself, or try to.  

What will you say? What will you do?

Slowly opening the door, you realize those few seconds talking yourself up were futile because the hot water is still. The lights in the water shine clear against the dark night with no disturbance. Because he's gone.

Turning around and walking back inside, you try to hide your frown as you go to clock out and leave. Disappointment floods your veins, making you feel stupid and pathetic. With a sigh, you walk out the doors into the cold trying to remember his laugh, and his smile. 

Ones that you’ll never see again, and you hate how awful knowing that makes you feel.

*

The next day when you showed up for another exhausting day of work, a light shown at the end of the tunnel. Although your shift was tiring, the only good thing about getting up early was to get off early. That fact kept you sane throughout most of the day, despite the thoughts that have been nagging at you to quit this lousy housekeeping job that you’ve stuck with for far too long. Sure, it paid alright, but it was hard on your body and some of the things you had to endure were ridiculous, you thought. 

Before you knew it, you were bypassing the employee break room and walking through the lobby. The keys on your lanyard jangled and only were silent when you used them to open your car. Now with a jacket around your shoulders, your steps were covered in snow on the way back to the sliding doors, that is until you heard a voice. A voice calling your name. It took you a second to realize where it was coming from, but when your eyes ventured to the left side of the building, it all clicked when you saw the steam rising into the air. 

“‘s you, innit? I thought so! Hey, two days inn’a row. Come say hi, love. ‘m here all in me lonesome ‘gain,” the stranger calls to you from across the parking lot. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath, but your words leak of lies as a smile curls among your lips. “I guess, but I don’t want you touching my feet again!” 

“Deal, but ya gotta take off yer shoes yerself then, or else ya can’t come!” 

Luckily, the hotel doesn’t have a fence or barricade around the outside hot tub like most do. Instead, a low rock wall shields it from view, but you’ve always found it tacky and worthless. 

“On our break again, are we?” he hums from the confines of the hot tub as you approach him, glad for your jacket this time. You nod a reply as you grab the plastic chair somebody had dragged out here and left, both things they weren’t supposed to do. “Noooo, don’t sit so far away from me. Come dip yer toes in again, please,” he whines, waving a wet hand at you. 

You relent and begin to toe off your shoes as he giggles from his spot across from you, leaning against the edge of the tub. The sight makes you feel warmer than you actually are in the December air. More tattoos peek out amongst the glistening skin of his arms spread out on the lip of the tub, resting there. 

“Do you do anything besides sit in here?” you question, rolling your two socks into a ball before he hits you in the chest with a towel. 

“Not really. ‘s too bloody loud inside with all tha kids, and my hotel room ‘s too quiet.”

“Wow, it sounds like you have such a rough life,” you joke, the temperature of the water surprising you when you dip a foot in. His revelation does as well, although you’re not sure why. Regardless, it still causes you to wonder if you’ve been into his room recently if only to deliver towels. 

“Oh, so rough,” he confesses dramatically, arms falling into the water when he sinks down into it. You laugh at how he becomes a noodle in the water, and soon the sound is stolen away when he drifts over to you. His warm hand comes around your ankle and tickles along the bottom of your foot. 

“That’s whatcha get fer bein’ mean, make me sound all shallow and that rubbish,” he teases while loud laughs and protests jump from your lips. 

“Stop!” you repeat again and again until he relents, but your right foot remains in his hand as he seemingly kneels on the bottom of the hot tub. 

“Hmmmm, blue toes. That’s a new one,” he hums, running a finger over one of your painted toenails that you painted teal last night. 

“I said I didn’t want you touching my feet, you weirdo. Do you have a foot fetish or something?” 

“No, don’t be bloody rude. I can’t comprehend how people get that kinda satisfaction from feet, sumthin’ must be wrong with ‘em,” he tsks, shaking his head of drying curls as he releases your foot. Your agreeing smile is replaced with a sad one when he disappears under the water with a groan, appearing seconds later with a tense face. “Sumtimes wish I could spend forevea unda there.”

“You must be a water bug, like me,” you note aloud, savoring the sight of his thick arms reaching to his head, pushing back his long wet hair back. Now, it touches his shoulders with the help of the balmy water. 

“Think so, always loved swimmin’ since I was a kid. ‘d be in tha pool if a dozen kids weren’t hoggin’ it, and if tha winter didn’t make me feel so damn cold all tha time,” he remarks with a smile as you slip your other foot in, letting the water reach to the middle of your lower legs. “Yer a water bug too, huh?”

“Yeah, I swam competitively all throughout high school. I feel at home in it.”

“Hmmm, sounds like some kinda psychology theory t’ me. ‘m sure it’d say somethin’ happened in yer brain through all o’ that, y’know ya been in tha water so much ya feel at home in it, blah blah,” he says, bringing his golden arms to the edge of the hot tub to your right where he lays them. His stubbly chin comes to rest on them as you accidentally touch his ribs with your foot, but he doesn’t even notice, it seems. 

“Thank you for the lecture, professor, it was really fascinating,” you respond, fake dramatics shining in your voice as you clap your hands. He rolls his eyes before splashing warm water at you. “Hey, I have to go back to work in these clothes, so you better not get them as wet as you did last night.”

“Ya? What’re ya gonna do ‘bout it, love?” 

You reply with a tight-lipped sigh that elicits sing-song laughter from his rose-colored lips that await below you. Your eyes trail to his long torso and legs blurry under the water, short yellow swim trunks donning his waist. 

The thoughts that bloom inside of your mind, like wondering how tall he is and what the rest of him looks like out of the water, escape you when you see the time. 

“Noooo, don’ leave ‘gain, we jus’ got talkin’,” he whimpers when you tell him, sticking his bottom lip out at you. 

“I can’t not go back to work,” you explain, drawing your feet from the warmth only to return to the chill. 

A sad noise sounds behind his frowning lips, and a matching expression paints his flushed face. You wish you knew his name when he won’t let go of your leg, making you suddenly glad you had shaved them again last night after your run-in with him. 

“When d’ya get off?”

“Eight,” you respond, earning a nod from him. 

“Alrighty, well stop by again, I might be here.”

“Okay,” you answer simply as you slip your shoes back on, a feeling growing in your gut unpleasantly. 

“Have a good day,” he smiles at you as you walk away. “And smile, cuz ya have a pretty one!” 

*

The hallways were quiet with few guests remaining outside of their rooms, and the parties occupying the waterpark now over. The big slides and arcade were closed by the time you slipped back into the emptying cavernous room. You forced smiles at lifeguards and the coworker behind the food bar on your way to the door leading outside. The entire way there after clocking out, you seethed with regret from forgetting a swimsuit earlier today. When your feet take you outside to the fluorescent lights playing along the chlorinated water, you’re unsure which you regret worse - forgetting to bring a swimsuit, or getting your hopes up only to find his messy head of brown hair to be missing from the hot tub. Again. 

*

You had the next day off from work, which had you thanking the high heavens to be free from that prison. You were brimming with thankfulness, and yet you found yourself standing in the hotel lobby the next morning, a bag over your shoulder holding a swimsuit and towel. Once you had gotten a day pass from a coworker, although not free as you had hoped, you wandered into the deafening waterpark. The foggy door across the large room called your name, and soon you found your palm pressed to the warm metal pushbar once again. The brisk winter air is a shock when you enter it, and you find your mission to be fruitless when the bubbling water is empty.

Your tennis shoes squeak on the slippery cement as you turn to leave. Thoughts muddle your mind, and your day depressingly empty of any plans pulls you back to the singing water. After sliding off your shoes and stepping out of your clothes, the water welcomes you in your bathing suit. At first, you’re grateful that you’re alone and no noisy kids are interrupting your peace and quiet, but it doesn’t last long. You spend the time playing on your phone and replying to text messages, even playing a game or watching a YouTube video. 

Half an hour or so had passed already, and by then you had moved around the large space. This included sitting on the varying height of steps when you grew too warm, perched on the ledge with only your legs in, or sometimes almost sitting on the bottom of the tub. 

Tucked in the corner near the little opening to swim in from the inside hot tub, you hear the outside door open. The first smile of your day tickles at your lips when you watch who the door spits out. He doesn’t notice you at first surprisingly, consumed by his phone in his hands. The same couldn’t be said for you as you marvel at the sight of him, and how normal of one it is. The water seems to grow hotter by the second while you watch him peel off his Fleetwood Mac shirt to leave him in those same banana colored shorts. A shotty whistle leaves your lips before a giggle follows it, and you’re graced with the arrival of his smile when he turns around to find you there. 

“Hey, stranger, funny meeting you here,” you mumble, a jet of water pounding against your spine. Dimples collapse into his cheeks as his smile grows, his long chestnut hair tickling his face. 

“Hullo, love. Looks like I finally got me wish,” he says, setting down his phone on the nearby glass table, right across from your own. 

“Really, what’s that?”

“This,” he answers, nodding at you as he turns to face you. He sure is a sight for sore eyes, you wonder as your eyes run over his long body painted with black ink. “I can splash you all I want now,” he finishes, kicking a foot towards you as he saunters down the stairs, a spray of water hitting you square in the face. 

“Hey!” you exclaim, dragging your hand through the water to hit him in the chest with it. 

“So ‘s gonna be that way, huh?” he argues, dipping both hands into the rolling bubbles to drench the rest of your dry hair. 

You groan loudly, and it doesn’t end when your arms go around his toned waist to yank him into the water. He falls but catches himself too late, getting dunked into the water. The chuckle leaves your lips that very second and grows louder when he emerges from the water, a disappointed look on his face as he moves his hair off his face. 

“Yer a feisty one, arentcha?” he quips, wagging a finger at you, receiving your nod. “Silly me.”

The giggle dies down when nerves overcome you as he sits down beside you on the underwater concrete bench, his leg brushing yours. 

“You never told me your name,” you mutter quietly, crossing and then uncrossing your legs anxiously. 

“Dunno why I should afta all that,” he responds lightheartedly, still fixing his hair that refuses to cooperate much to your amusement. “‘s Harry, if ya must know.”

“Harry, hmm, that fits you,” you hum, finding the dark and light speckles in his green irises that sit so close to yours. Dark stubble lines his cheeks all over, you notice, as well as the tiny tattoos that hide amongst the larger ones claiming his body. 

Your name flows from your lips and he mocks you, saying something about how you look like your name. The sound of the rolling bubbles and jets fills your absence of conversation as you lean your head back. 

“How many days are you here for, Harry?” you inquire, admiring the tiny snowflakes that begin to fall, immediately melting when they hit the water. 

“A couple mo’.”

A few greasy pepperoni pizzas, cherry slushies, stale tortilla chips with goopy nacho cheese, and over buttered popcorn fill the rest of your day. A few appearances on the waterslides and in the pool occupy your time, as well as him throwing you in more than once. The laughs never seemed to be shy to either of your lips, whether on the tube slide or in the corner of the hot tub. 

The sun had set long ago, and your skin had grown pruney far before then. You were both exhausted after your day spent in the waterpark and in the hot tub you had returned to, the chlorinated water always seeming to get the best of you no matter your age, like now. Harry’s eyes were closed beside you, and they didn’t open when you tapped his nose with your finger. A raspy question escapes his smirking lips, and when you don’t answer them, you find tiredness adorning his greens. 

“The waterpark closes soon,” you murmur, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He nods as his long fingers card through his dark locks. He lifts a finger and inches it towards himself, calling you to him. “What?” you ask, feigning annoyance. 

“Wanna tell ya sumthin,” he whispers, the sugary smell of his second cherry slushie tickling your nose. You relent and scooch closer to him, until your thigh is flush against his. “Think we could do this again t’morrow, and tha day afta that, and afta that?” he asks, a smile transforming his blushing face only inches from yours. A nod shakes the wet tendrils of your hair automatically, and quickly the prickly nervousness that had disappeared hours before, returns. 

“Good, I can’t wait. Wanna go sumwhere t’ get dinna, ‘m starvin’?” 

“Yeah, we should go then, the attendants will be shutting off stuff in a few minutes,” you insist, but all thoughts fleet you when his hand settles on your arm. 

“That’s okay, I only need a few minutes t’ do one last thing,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows raise in question. 

They remain stuck there as he nears you, and only do they relax a few seconds into the kiss he plants on your lips. The sickeningly sweet taste of artificial cherries graces your lips as yours move with his. Your cheek tingles when his hand brushes against it, drawing you nearer to him when it finds a place there. He giggles into your mouth as he knocks a foot against yours while his fingers explore your hair. His taut arm is slick under your touch and yet it feels better than you could have imagined, eliciting another titter from him when he flexes it on purpose. When he begins to pull away, your hand drifts to his sloping back. Your fingers press against his warm skin there until the taste of cherries consumes your lips once again, drowning out his name. 

Maybe this job isn’t too bad, after all. 

[the-enamorando-deity]

words: 17 locations: 15 & 2 situations: 5 sentences: 5, 6 & 25 with sara lance* - sorry if this is too many, these prompts are just way fun haha congrats on 200! :)

too many???? oh i do love a challenge.

thanks for the prompt (and for the asterix :):):) )

sara lance x fem!reader, 18+ ONLY!!!!!!!!!!!!! smut lies ahead, hope this is ~something~ like what you wanted, anon (let me know if you liked it!!)

prompts: camera, bedroom, flower patch, family function, “babe no”, “babe yes”, “you’re so pretty, what the fuck”

Pretty Girl

When you first brought Sara home, you couldn’t hold in the smile. It wasn’t your normal smile, Sara could see that the moment it appeared on your face. You were petrified, nervous, and she realised a little too late, closeted. It was one of those awkward insecure smiles that you couldn’t help, your face making the judgement call for you.

The door opened, and a flash went off in your unsuspecting faces. The camera dropped to reveal the woman you owed your life, smiling as widely as ever. Your mother embraced you swiftly before looking over your outfit, making her usual judgements and suggestions. She then turned to Sara, a half-puzzled look on her face that was quickly hidden by the realisation of Sara’s identity.

‘Oh, isn’t she lovely!’ she cooed. ‘Hello, I’m Y/N’s mother, you must be the wonderful captain she’s always talking about.’

‘Sara,’ Sara replied, extending her hand. Your mother laughed and batted her hand away, pulling your girlfriend in for a hug. ‘It’s lovely to meet you, you have a beautiful home.’

Delighted with who she thought was her daughter’s boss and best friend, your mother welcomed you both inside and took the food you’d spent two hours preparing the night before. Your childhood home was loud with the sounds of family and friends gathering, and you somehow managed to be even more uncomfortable. 

Grateful for Sara’s presence, you squeezed her hand tight before slipping away and moving to greet the rest of your family. She gave you enough strength to get through the first hour without anything crazy, your family loving the tales she spun and tricks she performed.

Before the big meal, you pulled her aside in the kitchen, just to have a moment to gather yourself back up.

‘What’s going on? Are you okay?’ she asked softly, checking you over and studying your eyes.

You nodded weakly, a shuddering breath leaving your body. ‘Being back here is weird. It’s like nothing has changed, but… things have changed.’

‘You mean you?’

Clenching your teeth, you glanced towards the kitchen door. Quick footsteps sounded nearby, your grandmother was heading your way. Stepping back from Sara, you turned the the stove and quickly stirred the sauce. 

‘Ah, Y/N, always my sweetest,’ she started, pinching your cheeks as she took over and resumed her annual kitchen duties, ‘thank you for stirring my special sauce. I’d hate to have to start all over again.’

She ushered the two of you out into the hall, suggesting a tour of your childhood home before dinner. Sara was more than happy to oblige, grinning at you a little too happily. She took your hand and tugged you towards the stairs, and you could tell exactly what she was up to.

Just as you took the first few stairs, a voice called out from behind you, stopping you both in your tracks.

‘Y/N, giving a tour without me, are you?’ your mother tutted, joining you on the stairs and only just missing the sight of you releasing Sara’s hand, ‘have I taught you no manners?’

The most gruelling and painstakingly slow tour of the house you’d ever lived through seemed to only drag more every time you thought about how slow it was going. And yet, every time you looked at Sara, her eyes were wide in bewilderment at the stories your mother regaled her with. 

When the tour was finally over, you realised it had only been a few minutes, and your meal was still hours away. Quickly covering your mouth to hide a yawn, it caught your mother’s eye immediately.

‘Oh, child, go have a nap before dinner, you look positively exhausted,’ she cooed, pushing hair back from your face. ‘Take Sara with you, a nap is always best before and after a big meal.’

‘After a meal too? Oh, Mrs Y/L/N, you’re spoiling us,’ Sara grinned, revelling as your mother laughed, entertained in every way.

Before she headed back downstairs to leave the pair of you to rest, your mother leaned over to whisper to you. ‘I like your friend, she is very respectful.’

‘You have… no idea.’

Clenching your teeth in a smile as your mother left, you turned to face your angelic looking girlfriend, whose hand had been on your ass since the moment your mother moved to lead your tour at the front. And it wasn’t a simple over the jeans or in the pocket type of “on your ass”, it was a full hand down the back of your pants show off.

Barely making it to your room, the door shut and you pressed Sara quickly against it, lips moving fast to meet hers. The door clicked locked, and all you wanted was to strip her down right then and there. Fighting your urges and softening the kiss between you, you finally brought yourself enough strength to pull away.

‘Babe, no,’ you frowned, sitting on your bed to put any distance between you. 

She tilted her head to the side and slowly strutted forwards, leaning toward you as she placed her hands on your knees, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout as she whispered into your ear.

‘Babe, yes.’

Who were you to argue? She sucked on your neck and laid you back on the bed, fingers tracing the hem of your shirt as she placed her knees on either side of your legs. You weren’t powerless to her charms, but sometimes it felt like you were. She could have you any which way, and it was goddamn delightful.

A shiver ran up your spine as the sound of your zipper rumbled in your ears. Breath catching in your throat, your shirt lifting up little by little as her hand crept up, your legs started twitching as you struggled to drag Sara closer.

She moved to straddle you, grinning down at you as she shook her hair loose from the bun on her head. Sara leaned down slowly and kissed the nape of your neck, moving down to your collarbone and sucking her way across it.

‘You’re so pretty,’ you mumbled into the air, ‘what the fuck. How are you so pretty?’

Her hips started grinding against yours as one hand toyed with your breast, the other at your panty line. She wasn’t listening to your incoherent mumbles, having far too much fun driving you to contained insanity.

A soft knock at the door made you bolt upright, finding your girlfriend vanished and your jeans re-zipped as your bedroom door opened. Your mother held up a hand in apology, creeping over to offer you a blanket.

‘That girl is a fast sleeper, no wonder you two get along so well,’ she smiled, placing it in your arms. ‘Don’t forget, after dinner, we have our family trip to the flower patch on Guilders Road.’

‘I remember.’

Still hesitant to leave, trying to spy on the pair of you and get any information about your true whereabouts since leaving home. ‘You might be used to your very cold room, but I thought in case our guest was not…’

‘Thanks,’ you forced a smile, ‘really. I’ll keep it here in case she wakes up and says anything.’

Your mother quickly nodded before slipping back out of your room, leaving you wondering if your lock had always been broken. You turned to the fake-sleeping Sara, astounded at how fast she was able to compose both of you.

‘You obviously have some experience in the secrecy business,’ you chided, throwing the blanket at her.

She rolled over to grin at you, reaching up and placing a kiss on your swollen lips. ‘You try being in love with the daughter of the Demon. Sneaking around in a palace full of ninjas? Not easy.’

With a huff, you twisted yourself around and took what had been Sara’s earlier position, running a finger down the centre of her stomach. ‘My door doesn’t lock.’

‘So?’

Smiling into her lips, you tugged her shirt over her head and threw it across the room. Yours soon followed, hands feeling every inch of skin you could on each other. She was like perfection beneath you, hands clenching into the bedsheets when she couldn’t get a grip on you.

Fingers teasing her to the height of climax, you backed off fast to revel in the shock, only then did she realise where your mouth was. Distracting Sara was always marvellously easy, waiting for her head to tilt back and her eyes to close, the suppressed moans making her walls clench around your fingers.

When your tongue moved from her thighs, her hands shook as she struggled to find purchase on your body. Gentle sucks and a pop of your tongue made her fall apart beneath you, grabbing your shoulders and twisting herself to help you reach deeper, to push you faster.

How the hell she managed to stay silent was a fantastic mystery, one you were grateful for but didn’t care about. Whispered cries of your name only aided in your quickening pace, feeling her build up all over again.

Your free hand worked her nipple softly, tweaking it with every second thrust of your fingers, every third swish of your tongue over her sensitive clit. Her hips inched towards your face, needing you more and more with every passing second. She was getting closer, but she needed one last push, a last bit of encouragement to make her fall apart.

‘You’re so pretty,’ you purred against her, the rumbling of your voice driving her over the edge. 

Finally you brought her the sweet blissful release she’d been craving since you left the ship, the smile on her face one you wouldn’t soon forget. She cupped your face as you kissed your way back up her body, glancing over to the unlocked door.

‘You up for another round?'

taglist: @marvelfansince08love @mymarvelwomen @imnotasuperhero @natasha-danvers @veteranwerewolf95 @liziehaswritersblock @dynnealberto @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

send me a request?

[sewellsheart]

Merciless Haze - Part 1/3

Summary:  In the back of her mind she thought she heard someone screaming, torturous and raw and distraught.  It sounded animalistic, nothing short of an encapsulation of all of the pain a person could possibly feel, every nerve alive and striving to make its own body suffer.  Sophie just barely registered that it was her own screams.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Warnings:  Mentions of blood, death, wanting to die, detailed pain, vomit, and fatal injury.

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Nate Sewell x f!Detective (Sophie MacNamara)

Note: So... turning, eh?  This is my perception of how I think the process of turning will go and it’s not pleasant.  Each part of this story will explore a stage in the process and the warnings will be adjusted as needed, so consider this Stage 1.  Hope you enjoy :)

    She didn’t know how many times she’d been hit, how many bullets had ripped through her flesh.  The only thing she knew was that she was falling, and it felt like ages before she finally hit the ground.  Her shoulder slammed against the earth with a sickening thud, her heart pounded in her ears, a warm wetness pooled below her, and she was suddenly reminded of how horribly human she was.

    Human.  Sophie had come to hate the word. It had become nothing more than a reminder of how fragile she was.  How disposable she was, in the grand scheme of things.

    “Sophie!”, she heard Farah scream from a distance, followed by a short “Fuck.” from Morgan.

    The mission could not have gone worse, Adam and Nate were on standby at a facility over 30 kilometers away, not impossibly far for them to run in if backup were needed, but would arrive far too late to help Sophie in her current condition.

    Adam had been less than keen to send the three of them alone, and Nate had looked like he was damn near ready to flip the table during the argument with the Combat Director. She had rarely seen him genuinely angry, the heat of the words he could say likely burning the tip of his tongue. He had instead chosen to keep his mouth shut, letting those fiery words sit silently in his eyes. She wished he had spoken.  She wondered if he did too.

    The Agency had insisted that it was only a few trappers that needed to be dealt with, maybe five in total, and they needed Adam and Nate’s advisement on another mission.

    They had been wrong. Upon approaching the base, the trio had realized how terribly outnumbered they were.  Worse yet, their comms had gone out due to an unexpected satellite disconnect, according to the robotic voice in their earpieces, leaving them with no way to call for backup, to call for Adam or Nate.

    Nate.  Sophie felt her stomach sink.  Her fears were being realized, that she may never see him again, that he wasn’t by her side right now.  That she was likely going to die here.

    She felt soft hands hold the back of her head up to place in a lap.  She looked up, army green eyes meeting a panicked amber, Farah.  She tried to ground herself by speaking her name, knowing it came out as more of a hum, as she felt her reality begin to slip.  The young vampire she had grown so close to, someone who had taught Sophie that perhaps being more sociable wasn’t the worst thing to be, and, for whatever reason, thought that she was a fun person to be around.  Her dear friend, who was now on the verge of crying out of fear, wet eyes creating a deep contrast to the bubbly spirit Sophie adored.  

    She felt another pair of hands grab onto the neckline of her t-shirt to rip it open.

    “Holy shit.”  Morgan, again.  Sophie tried to meet her eyes, but her vision was deteriorated, leaving her unable to make out anything more than two identical blurred shapes of the woman at her side.

    “How many?” Farah’s typically cheerful, boisterous voice came out as more of a whimper.

    “At least six.”  From the tone of her voice, Sophie couldn’t tell if Morgan was angry or scared.

    Six.  An entire round, that fucker had hit every single shot.  He had been one of the last too. They could have been walking back to the facility ready to raise hell when they got back.  Ready to cuss out every person who approved this mission plan despite Adam and Nate’s protests, choosing to brush off their expertise.  She could have ripped the Agency’s priorities to shreds, she could have forced them to acknowledge their own stupidity, but she would not be able to.

    Even in her muddled state Sophie knew she was a goner.  She would bleed out before backup arrived, especially if the searing pain in her left thigh was an indication of a possible artery hit.  She had minutes, maybe even seconds.  

    She heard the tearing of fabric once again, in between distant words that she was probably meant to respond to, before feeling a tight pressure wrapped around her stomach and thigh.  They were trying to stop the bleeding.  Sophie knew they would fail, the cloth was probably already soaked through.

    Even in her dying moments, she remained ever the pessimist.

    “What do we do?” Panic had now overtaken Farah’s voice.  There were a few beats of silence, then a breathy “Oh.”, trailed by another pause.  Sophie felt Farah’s hands place themselves softly on her cheeks, and another, third hand firmly grip her arm.  “You’re gonna be okay, yeah?  You know you can trust us?” She almost sounded pleading.  The most Sophie could muster was a single, weak nod.  

    She wasn’t sure what she was trusting them with.

    “Keep your eyes open.”  Morgan’s voice was stern and deadly serious, she was giving her an order.  Sophie wasn’t sure if she would be able to follow through.  She felt like she was being pulled down through an endless blackhole, and that inky darkness was beginning to surround her.  Sophie squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again, willing them to refocus, to ground her in her body again.  Her vision could not stay straight, she felt her eyes wanting to roll into the back of her head, and it took all of her strength just to look at the sky.  The soft blue was beginning to blush orange, indicative of the setting sun, of the purple-tinted dark that would inevitably set in.  

    An autumn breeze brushed through the air, and she was suddenly aware of just how cold she was.

    It was then that she felt four, stinging points enter her body.  Farah’s hands had moved to her shoulders, gripping her tightly and almost apologetically, her coiled hair brushing against Sophie’s paler-growing face, her fangs settled in her left collarbone.

    Morgan was at her thigh, one hand holding down her knee, the other gently grasping her right hand.  Sophie couldn’t think of a time where Morgan had ever been gentle with her, her body always in a stance meant to stir intimidation and her tongue sharply candor. Sophie knew that despite the moody persona she carried, Morgan cared for her, they had an unspoken declaration of friendship and their own ways of showing a genuine concern for one another.  But this was a physical form of comforting her, and Sophie wasn’t sure if there was anything more terrifying than the prospect that she was so deep in the shit that Morgan felt the need to let her know that she was there and she was trying to help.

    Help came in the form of her own two fangs settled in the center of her right thigh.

    It was indescribable, the pain that followed, part of it made her feel like she was on fire, like every inch of her body was being licked by the very flames of hell, trying to pull her even deeper into a void threatening to consume her.  Yet there was another part of it, something far more pleasant and almost ethereal in how light it made her feel, and in the back of her mind Sophie wondered if this was it, if this is what dying felt like, that the flames that were nearly swallowing her whole were keeping her from reaching a final place of comfort where she would not hurt anymore, where there would not be anymore pain.  She longed for that feeling so deeply, but as the fire continued to burn it took all sense of comfort with it, and that heavenly sensation she wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull close to her was burning away with it.

    In the back of her mind she thought she heard someone screaming, torturous and raw and distraught.  It sounded animalistic, nothing short of an encapsulation of all of the pain a person could possibly feel, every nerve alive and striving to make its own body suffer.  Sophie just barely registered that it was her own screams, her own mouth pleading for it to stop, to God, please, make it stop.  She would do anything.

    Just let me die, she wanted to cry out, to grab Morgan by her hair and rip her fangs out of her thigh, to slam her hands against Farah’s head to get her to let go, to make the wildfire release her and let her slip away.  In that moment she wanted nothing more than for death to embrace her, than to let that void cover her.

    Then she thought of those soft deep brown eyes that always pulled her from the brink, even in the worst of situations.

    Nate was a gift she never deserved, a man far more genuine and kind than any person Sophie had ever met before.  Someone who had been through so much pain, perhaps the exact same pain she was experiencing now, and still held his head high and greeted everyone with a smile.

    She couldn’t let go, she didn’t want to go anywhere without him, never again.  She wanted to feel his warm hands on her waist, to feel those same hands run through her long ginger hair while he kissed her softly in his candle lit bedroom.  She craved to hear him whisper sweet nothings in her ear in languages she hardly knew or had never heard at all.

    He had always been so gentle with her, knowing that, despite her naturally intimidating appearance as a 6’1”, muscled Irishwoman, all tattoos and harsh lines, she craved the delicate intimacy he offered.  As selfish as it was, she wanted to feel wanted and Nate never displayed or provided her with anything less.  She had never loved a person so deeply before.  She had never been held like he held her, never had love made to her in the way he did, never felt so desperately loved in return.  There was no one like her Nathaniel.  Her Nathaniel.

    The pain was still racing through her, she couldn’t tell if it had been minutes or hours.  What she could tell was that Morgan was now looking directly at her, hand still gripping hers, and somehow Sophie found herself able to focus through the fire and catch those grey eyes.  She looked terrified and nigh feral, blood dripping from her teeth to her chin and down her neck.  Sophie broke her gaze, looking up to see Farah, who appeared to be in a similar state, a sight that could have shattered her reality had she seen it out of the context of their current circumstance.  She hadn’t felt them let go of her, and she still couldn’t feel anything but that same hellish pain that continued to overtake her as she began to convulse.  

    Somehow it had worsened, she felt like every bone in her body was breaking only to immediately repair itself and break again.  She felt Farah push her onto her side as she began to vomit, the acid stinging her throat and bittering her mouth.  It was too much, everything was too much, every little sound, touch, and taste was overwhelming in its proximity to her.  Her world was spinning, her vision edging black once again, and this time she knew she would not be able to fight it.  

    Despite the pleas of her teammates, distilled to just echoes of voices that sounded distant and foreign as they bounced around her head, she let her eyes roll back, and as the dark brought her into a close embrace, she swore she could hear footsteps thundering through the forest that surrounded them.

    She swore she could hear Nate calling her name.

[neighborhood-merc]

Guys !!! I am back! First of all, I hope all of y’all (your friends, family, pets! too) are doing alright. Keep safe! Wash your hands! Don’t go out if not necessary! Kisses! Kisses! Kisses! Alright, alright, let’s do this shall we? Same shit applies. [Here is Part 1 & 2 btw ] 

The themes of the stories on this list varies, I’m either into something heart-warming, fluffy, domestic that sort of stuff or into some really really heavy and dark messed up ones. (READ THE TAGS) It always depends on the mood am I right? *wink wink*

It’s always gonna be smutty though lol

As long as it’s tastefully written, whatever kinky shit, I can be into it, I don’t judge the writer (they give us free content y’all, who are we to judge??) With that being said if I add something straight up messed up here now/or in the future, don’t come for meh, just mind the tags of the fic, for your own discretion if anything.

this list should be Wade Wilson/Peter Parker - Spiderman/Deadpool pairing only. I kinda like my babies greedy/possessive for/of each other.

READ THE TAGS.

I don’t care who tops or bottoms.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Summaries are taken directly from the fanfic’s summary.

Read the tags first!

Deluge (this is such a good boi, this fic is a good boy!) Weapon X chose Wade Wilson because of several factors in his life. He was a preternatural. He had extraordinary abilities that could be expanded upon. The cancer just made him desperate enough to agree to whatever they wanted to do with him.They didn't just turn him immortal. They destroyed his very soul, tearing him apart and shaping him into something new and never seen before. They took everything he had been and left him with ashes and bones. Soulless.He killed his creators and went on with his life.Then he met Spider-Man.Things started to change.Something inside him, something that had come out of the ashes and was a nightmarish, terrible thing, sat up and took notice. An intense, single-minded notice.

The Perks of Working Third Shift An AU in which Wade is wandering the globe and ends up in NYC where he meets the absolute most perfect man he's ever seen who's working third shift at a quick mart. Even better, the man seems happy to flirt back. Wade makes it his mission to score a date.Peter stopped dating a long time ago, but Wade's flirtations, energetic attitude, and hilarious comments make it hard for Peter not to enjoy the attention. But will all of that be ruined if Wade finds out his secret?

Better Like This  (Listen,  NotEvenCloseToStraight’s Spideypool works are amazing, read all of em, honestly just check out ALL the works of the writers on my list because if I list everything, this is gonna be a long ass list) No one knows Spider-Man is an Omega. Not the newspapers, not the NYPD, and certainly not the overly loud, definitely obnoxious, sort-of-a-good-guy, completely Alpha, Deadpool. And Peter would like it to stay that way. But when he drops into an unexpected heat, Deadpool is the only person he can call to help, and how quickly the Alpha switches from shouting dirty innuendos to whispering comforting things really throws Peter for a loop. After sharing a heat, Peter is convinced that Wade is his Alpha, and is ready to take him as his mate, but Wade rejects him. Wade knows that a man like him wouldn’t make anyone a good mate, much less a perfect, pretty Omega like Peter. So he says no, pushes the Omega away and unable to even work together anymore, they go their separate ways. Peter is devastated, heartbroken, seeking comfort in the arms of another Alpha, and all Wade can do is watch from a distance, and keep telling himself that he is doing the right thing, sparing Peter a life of disappointment and pain. Peter deserves better than him as a Mate, and one day Peter will understand. It’s Better This Way. But is it really?(Peter is Andrew Garfield)

Use Me Peter wants to help Wade. Wants to make him feel beautiful, wants to make him feel wanted... Wants to put out the fire in his own gut whenever he sees the merc for what he really is. He does.

Double Mint Gum Wade decides that only one of his fine-ass self just isn't enough 

Spider Spidey (SPIDERY SPIDEY!)

Bleed the Water Red Peter and Deadpool are held captive by a super-villain that has an inclination for torture. After she boasts her untarnished record at never having hurt a child or teenager, Peter is forced to break the truth to both her and Deadpool.“Did you know I have a perfect record?” The villain collects a rusted pocket knife, tracing it up Peter’s arm, over his shoulders, down to his collarbone, as though considering where to cut. Peter focuses on controlling his breathing, fear twisting awfully in his belly. “You may look down on me, Mr. Spider-Man, but for all the righteous suffering I inflict, I’ve never hurt a child. Not once.”“Y'know, I don’t think you do,” Peter blurts. At his words, Deadpool's stare intensifies. “Have a perfect, non-child harming record, that is.”

Don’t Keep Me Waiting Peter's 90% sure Wade likes him. Or at least he was sure. When you almost jerk off in front of the friend you're definitely not pathetically pining for and they never mention it again, it makes you doubt yourself. Peter knows he should probably just ask what the fuck is going on, but where's the angsty fun in that?

Sometimes When We Touch Peter answers a Craigslist ad for someone who is willing to pay for some unspecified physical contact/sex because he's just that broke. He's surprised to find out Wade Wilson is the one who posted the ad, but thinks he can still manage just fine even when the man explains he'd like him to wear a special costume for the occasion. Of course things become a little more complicated when Wade reveals the outfit he's chosen: a shockingly accurate Spider-Man suit

Sunflower 26 and standing at the head of Parker Industries, Peter feels young in every way. He doesn't know himself, he lacks a lot of experience, and he's struggling to get a grip on what he thinks of the merc with the mouth, an absolute force who has starting pushing his desires in a direction that terrifies him.He desperately tries to come to terms with sexuality, even when it means dragging Wade flat on his face.Takes place after the dance scene in Spider-man/Deadpool, with important plot details omitted. Follows these two through extreme character growth.

Two Thirds of a Whole (I honestly felt weird about this one, but eh, maybe someone who’s into it would appreciate it) Peter Parker and Wade Wilson, finding Vanessa dead and having never met, assume the second body is their other soulmate. When they meet in a market ten years later, they both have a chance they never thought they would get again-- a chance at love.But can they find a way to be happy as two thirds of a whole?

Holding Back The thing about not being able to die is that it makes everything so dreadfully boring. Seriously, immortality's a bitch. So, you gotta keep things interesting. How else are you supposed to get through the day without going insane? Well, more insane.Wade wants to be a hero, but fighting bad guys isn't enough to keep things interesting. Wooing Spider-Man might help, though. And exploring his kinks definitely will. Of course, he never thought anything would come of either of these things. Boy, was he wrong!

Missed You  (Imagine me covering me shyly covering my face for this ehehe) “Wade,” Peter whines, pulling off Wade’s mask and catching his lips in a deep kiss. All he can smell is leather and sweat and gunpowder, and he’s already embarrassingly hard. Wade comes home from a mission. Peter missed him. A lot.

Big Peter can't stop looking at and thinking about Wade's great big arms and shoulders and hands and back. He's fine. (He's not fine.) 

 Slip of the Tongue Sometimes Peter can forget how big Wade is, how much presence he has. Right now is not the time. His heart rabbits in his chest as he swallows, looking up. There’s always something there when Wade’s looking at him, something predatory, that makes Peter nervous and wanting, shivering hot all over.

Wade The Cat  “Aw don’t be afraid little buddy, it’s okay, he’s gone”Wade almost cringes at how someone is talking to him, what the hell?! He’s not a defenseless animal. Wait. No, yeah, he is.Wade looks a little alarmed, stepping back as the man crouches next to him, smiling sympathetically “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. You okay?”Wade holds his breath, gives an once over at the guy, beautiful chestnut eyes, the adorable smile, the red face probably resulting from the cold and the brown humid hair stuck to his forehead as he holds his umbrella for both of them and yep, ladies and gentlemen if he wasn’t before, Wade is right now a defenseless animal because “Meow” Wade says wiggling what should be eyebrows “Honey, I’d let you take care of me all night long” Wade purrs.

Gonzo Journalist (It belongs to a series “We fell in love in October) A young photographer working for The Daily Bugle hears about the tragic fate of an ex-soldier and decides to write an article about his cause to help him out. Maybe more than in one way.

The Man in the Mask When Wade is unceremoniously dropped off into the custody of one Dr. Parker, he assumes the man has only the worst possible intentions for one of the world's last remaining mutants. But it turns out, the universe still holds plenty of surprises for them both.

You Wear My Name Over Your Heart Like It’s Invisible "Why don’t you ever let me see it? If you have the name already, why can’t you tell me whose it is? I thought we were best friends."Everyone gets their Name when they turn twenty-one. It isn’t their own name either. It’s the name of their Soulmate. When Wade Wilson wakes on his twenty-first birthday, he looks down at his chest and sees Peter Benjamin Parker. He stares for a moment then shrugs, gets dressed, and doesn’t think about it for another six weeks.

Parachute, Please Peter unexpectedly goes into heat after an Avengers mission, which could have been fine, but the ride back is 2 hours and he's stuck on a plane with his closest friends and family.At least there's one person he can call at times like these for relief. And in comes Wade.

Peter Parker’s Home for the Wayward Villain A really long redemption story.

And Words Are Futile Devices Peter doesn’t think he’s lonely. He’s too busy to be lonely. He’s twenty-two, working on his PhD and holding down a shitty job at the Daily Bugle, not to mention his nightly extra-curricular activities. He’s too busy for friends, and he’s certainly too busy for romantic interests. And yet, shockingly, apparently everyone in his life thinks he needs to stop being an anti-social recluse and get laid.So Peter enters the wide, wonderful world of online dating. He doesn’t expect to find his soul mate, or even a friend, and he’s definitely not looking for hook ups. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for, really, until one Wade W. Wilson catches his eye and captures his heart with risqué dog pics and a concerning obsession with cannibalistic serial killers.This is a love story. A sweet, inevitable journey towards each other. There is humor, and melancholy, and a touch of both gravitas and levity to the weeks that trickle by. But really it’s just an account of the slow, magnetic movement of Peter towards Wade, and Wade towards Peter.

Strays Wade finds Spider-Man unconscious on a roof top. Score!Or: Spider-Man has lost his memories, some of his vocabulary, and all of his social conditioning. Wade is losing his mind.

The Inverse Deadpool doesn't have to try very hard to hide his second gender anymore because ever since Weapon X, no one in their right mind would ever believe that Wade Wilson was an omega. It doesn't matter anyway, because Wade knows no Alpha would keep a male omega. No alpha WANTS one, much less one that's as scarred and unstable as he is. Apparently, Spiderman was born to break every rule Wade has ever known.

The Body Remembers When the Mind Forgets When people need a mate in their life, it isn't usually because they've forgotten they already have one. 

Half Your Age (Plus Seven) In which Deadpool has oddly specific and frustrating morals, Spider-Man has excellent friends, his lab partner has an opening for a bassist, Johnny Storm has the warmest feet, and everyone has had enough of hearing Peter talk about Wade Wilson (except Aunt May: she’s always glad to hear he’s back in town).

[not-majestic-bluenicorn]

It’s mine now || BTS Jin x Yoongi One-shot

Fandom(s): BTS

AU: Non-idols

Prompts: Oversized Hoodies/Sweaters ( @btsholidaybingo​ ), Sweater Weather

Genre: NSFW, Fluff, Romance

Relationship: Jin x Yoongi

Language: English

Status: Finished

WC: 1,813 words

Warnings: Unprotected Sex, Praise Kink, Gay Sex (anal fingering, anal sex), Handjob

Summary:

Yoongi really likes wearing Jin's sweaters, and Jin likes how he looks in them.

AO3

Yoongi loved this weather. It wasn’t cold enough that he needed to turn the heater on, but it was cold enough that he could justify stealing Jin’s sweaters, which were perfectly oversized on him. Yoongi had a lot of sweaters of his own that he often used when they went out. But when he was working from home, waiting for Jin to arrive from the office, he just loved to wrap himself in one of the eldest’s sweaters and go about his day comfortably cuddled in it.

This particular piece was a baby blue knitted sweater which Jin liked to wear often. It was soft and smelled vaguely of flowers -according to the detergent brand, it was supposed to be chamomile-, and it was so big on him that if he didn’t balance it properly, it slipped down one of his shoulders. The beauty of the knots contrasted with his very simple grey sweatpants, but Yoongi felt so soft and warm that he didn’t mind much.

He was revising the lyrics for some tracks for a new album that would be coming out some time in the next two months. Technically, it was his free day and he wasn’t supposed to be working. However, being the workaholic he was, he couldn’t stay away from his work for long. Plus, he wasn’t really doing anything much other than read and make annotations and corrections. To be fair, his brain was very focused on the task of missing Jin.

It was Yoongi’s free day. It was only fair that he got to spend it with his very handsome boyfriend whom he didn’t get to see much because he was a very successful working man. And Yoongi loved that he was successful, he just also really wanted to spend time with him. He saved the changes on the file he was working on and closed it begrudgingly. It was obvious he wasn’t gonna get any more work done for the day. 

Yoongi leaned back on his wheeled chair as he played with the sleeves of the sweater. They were soft. He could remember Jin wearing this sweater before. It had a deep v-neck, which showed Jin’s collarbone and gave Yoongi the terrible, terrible urge to mark his boyfriend up. The v-neck kind of defeated the purpose of the sweater, especially on Yoongi since it dipped so low, but hell if it didn’t nurture imagination.

The front door opened and Yoongi almost jumped out of his chair. Jin was back and he didn’t want to seem too excited about it. Plus, the oldest was probably exhausted after a full day at work. Yoongi didn’t want to overwhelm him even if he had missed him a lot. Instead, he made his way to the door of his little studio and leaned on the doorframe, watching as Jin took off his shoes and put his suitcase away.

“I’m home,” Jin sing-sang, pulling his tie loose and brushing his hair back.

“Welcome home,” Yoongi replied with a small smile on his lips.

Jin’s eyes narrowed down on the sweater he was wearing and he raised both eyebrows, clicking his tongue. He walked up to Yoongi and tilted his head up to give him a kiss. Yoongi had to stop himself from grabbing the back of Jin’s hair and pushing him closer, and instead kissed him back delicately.

Yoongi followed Jin to their room and watched him take off the tie and belt and put them away before sitting on the bed and leaning against the headboard. He looked tired. Yoongi didn’t think twice before climbing on the bed and straddling Jin, using his broad shoulders as support. Jin looked at Yoongi with interest and brushed aside a wild strand of hair.

“I’m so hungry, what are we gonna have for dinner?” Jin muttered, although he wasn’t really thinking of food.

“What about having a snack first?” Yoongi hummed, rocking his hips slowly and deliberately, making Jin let out a soft sigh.

“You’re wearing my clothes again.” Jin pointed out. There was no malice in his voice, but Yoongi didn’t miss the way Jin’s eyes lingered a tad too long on the cleavage before going back up.

“I’d like to think it’s mine now,” Yoongi smiled, cocky, as he wrapped his arms around Jin’s neck.

“We can certainly make it yours,” Jin smiled too, half-lidded eyes looking at Yoongi’s lips before his hands pushed the middle of his back and they closed the distance between them with a kiss.

Yoongi’s fingers buried in the hair on Jin’s nape as he unbuttoned his slacks and then pulled Yoongi’s pants down just enough. Yoongi wasn’t wearing underwear, and Jin smirked into the kiss. His lips traced kisses over Yoongi’s cheek before he went down to his exposed neck and collarbone, kissing the soft skin before biting into it, tearing pliant moans from Yoongi’s lips. 

“Were you eager to the point of not wearing underwear?” Jin teased, lips stuck to the warm skin of Yoongi’s collarbone as his hand wrapped around both of their half-hard members.

“Shut up,” Yoongi moaned, moving his hips into the warmth of Jin’s long fingers.

Jin complied and busied his mouth with something else instead. He really liked how this particular sweater looked on Yoongi, because it was so big that it left a lot of skin exposed for him to mark and taste. Jin purposefully bought soft and big sweaters for himself, just to see Yoongi in them when the weather was right. He didn’t think Yoongi knew, but he liked to wear Jin’s clothes even without being prompted.

He was a bit tired after work, but Yoongi was moving his hips so eagerly, rubbing their dicks together, that Jin couldn’t help but want to give him everything he wanted. He bit on a particular tender spot on Yoongi’s shoulder, and felt as Yoongi’s hips stuttered when he sucked hard on his skin, leaving a bright red mark. A groan fell out of Yoongi’s lips as he leaned on Jin’s shoulder, taking a break.

“Your skin is so sensitive, such a pretty canvas.” Jin whispered in his ear as he took the initiative and moved his hand, using the pre-cum as a sort of lube. “Do you like it when I mark you up? Is that the reason you use my sweaters?”

“Ah- Hyung…” Yoongi moaned, eyes closed tight. Jin was doing the bare minimum, but when he spoke to him like that, it sent a shiver down his spine. “Want you inside, quickly…” He begged.

“Mhm,” Jin hummed, reaching with his free hand to the nightstand and opening the drawer swiftly. He blindly grabbed the lube, but he couldn’t find any condoms. “Hm, if you let me go for a moment I can go grab some condoms.”

“Don’t bother, hurry up.” Yoongi hit Jin’s chest softly, really wanting him to just get on with it. He had missed Jin so much and had dressed like that just for him… If he didn’t hurry, Yoongi might as well just go crazy.

Yoongi shuddered with the intrusion of two long fingers covered in lukewarm lube. He whimpered softly as he rocked his hips to get Jin’s finger to go deeper, to open him up. Jin put a third finger in with ease after a couple of minutes, and held Yoongi firmly by his middle so he wouldn’t move too much. It was torture, being unable to move how he wanted as Jin opened him up, but he was soon rewarded when Jin pulled his fingers out and guided Yoongi to sit on his bare cock.

“Are you okay?” Jin whispered, wiping a tear from Yoongi’s face. Yoongi nodded and chuckled softly before kissing Jin deeply.

“I just missed you,” Yoongi confesses, body flush against Jin.

He began moving, his legs trembling under his weight until he managed to settle a stable rhythm. Jin’s hands guided him firmly, as he admired the hickeys that the sweater couldn’t cover as it slid down Yoong’s left shoulder. 

“You look so, so pretty in my clothes, especially sweaters like this,” Jin muttered, hands sliding under the sweater to hold Yoongi’s hips properly. “You look so good like this, I love you.”

“Ah- Hyung-” Yoongi panted, the words getting to his head, making his body flush with embarrassment. “More-”

One of Jin’s hands wrapped around Yoongi’s cock and stroked him steadily, keeping up with the pace the younger had settled for himself. Yoongi’s face was buried in Jin’s neck, leaving ghostly kisses as he chased his and Jin’s pleasure. Jin continued murmuring sweet words to his ear.

“You’re doing so well, hm?” Jin hummed, his voice trembling with pleasure. He too had missed Yoongi, as they were usually so busy with work and Yoongi would sometimes sleep over at the studio to finish a track. It made him happy to know Yoongi missed him so much as well. “Ah, you’re bringing me close-” Jin let out a shuddery sigh, feeling Yoongi tighten around him.

“Hyung- Wait, the sweater…!” Yoongi warned him, as he was close to finishing as well.

“It’s okay,” Jin kissed the shell of his ear, stroking him faster and meeting him as Yoongi’s hips began to fail him. “I can buy you many more pretty sweaters like this one, just let go.”

Yoongi didn’t last much longer as he spilled, dirtying his pants and Jin’s sweater, whispering a thousand ‘I love you’s. Jin followed right after, coming inside of Yoongi as his movements slowed down and he became slack on top of him. Jin removed his hands from under the sweater and hugged Yoongi close, feeling his breathing slow down slowly. He didn’t care about getting the sweater even dirtier, his promise was real after all.

The youngest had his arms wrapped around Jin, head leaned on his shoulder as he left sweet kisses on Jin’s neck. Jin tried to move so he could get both cleaned and ready for dinner, but Yoongi whined, strengthening his grip. 

“Let’s stay like this a little while,” Yoongi muttered, sleepy. “I like feeling full like this.”

“I’m hungry though,” Jin complained half-heartedly, although he was indeed hungry.

“No, you’re not, your mind is playing tricks on you,” Yoongi declared, very seriously, and Jin couldn’t help but laugh.

Jin decided to comply, though, and he stayed right where he was, caressing Yoongi’s back on top of the sweater as he looked at the marks he had left all over his neck and collarbone. Maybe, he thought, it would be better to just start buying his own sweaters with Yoongi in mind. Yoongi liked to use them, and Jin liked to see him in them. Sweater weather was quickly starting to become his favorite. And if it meant seeing Yoongi all pliant in pretty clothes like that, then he was willing to spend a bit more. 

[obeymestudentcouncil]

Guardian

I know in my rules I say I don’t write for the undateables besides Diavolo but I got an idea for Simeon the other day and it wouldn’t let me leave it at a simple headcanon. Pg-13 I guess, some mild violence near the center and some discussion of old injuries near the end.

You followed Lucifer down the halls of the academy, nodding along as you made mental notes of the locations he was pointing out.  He’d mentioned introducing you to the other exchange student, both the other human student, as well as the two angels. You assumed that was where you were headed next;  the group of three not wearing the official uniform standing out in the hallway, the demons coming and going giving them a wide berth. 

“-mon, Luke, Simeon”  mentally berating yourself for wandering attention and missing that first name, you stopped next to Lucifer while he kept talking.  “I’d like you to meet our other human member of the exchange program.” 

When your name was said by one of the men before even Lucifer had a chance, the dark-haired demon raised an eyebrow in surprise. The other man just smiled and shrugged.  “Sorry, Diavolo mentioned them when I talked to him the other day.” It was almost uncomfortable, how intensely he was looking you over, but when the smallest member of their group elbowed him, he blushed and laughed.  “I’m sorry. I’m Simeon- one of the exchange students from the Celestial Realm. Luke here.” he dropped a hand to the blonde’s shoulder. “Is the other angelic student.” 

The third man was looking between everyone speculatively but held his hand out.  “Solomon. It’s nice not to be the only human around here now.” You tentatively took it, giving your name again before Lucifer led you away again.  Glancing over your shoulder, you saw Luke asking Simeon something, the other man not listening, his eyes still focused on you with a soft smile until you turned a corner and lost sight of them. 

At lunch a few days later, you were telling Beel and Mammon a story about some nonsense you and your friends in the human world had gotten up to, that ended with fewer injuries than it by all rights should have.  Laughing with the two demons as you finished the story you added off-hand “I guess I’m just lucky my guardian angel was looking out for me.”   The words are barely out of your mouth before you hear someone choking at a table nearby.  You turn around to see Simeon bent over, Luke beating on his back in concern and Solomon glancing your way with that same speculative look. 

As the weeks progressed, you spent more time with the three from the Purgatory dorm, working on a group project with Solomon about the human world.  You swore you were going to gain an easy five pounds off the number of cookies Luke had plied you with, not that you were complaining when the shorter angel greeted you with a new flavor every time you arrived.  And you could even admit that maybe Solomon wasn’t as off-putting as you’d originally thought. But you just couldn’t shake the feeling that Simeon didn’t want you around. He was nothing but polite, but as Luke warmed up to you, it seemed like there always remained a distance between you and Simeon.  You’d tried to ask Luke about it but he didn’t know what you were talking about.

“Sure, Simeon likes you!  He was the one who suggested you and Solomon meet here to work on your project.”  Luke leaned over the back of the couch and patted your shoulder. You just shrugged and forced a smile, gathering up your things and the small package of cookies Luke sent you home with for the demon brothers each time you left.   

As you started for the door, Solomon came back from his room.  “I had something come up, I won’t be able to walk you home for an hour or two if you want to stay here until I finish”   

Shaking your head, you kept moving towards the front door.  “Nah, I’ll be alright. I have some other homework I’ve got to get done.  I’ll see you all tomorrow.” You waved once more over your head as you slipped out the door, Purgatory hall was on the opposite side of campus from the House of Lamentation, so you started hoofing it, keeping your head down as you moved through the streets between buildings.  You’d been making good time when you felt one of the straps on your bag give way. Muttering to yourself, you stepped out of the flow of traffic, swinging the bag around to fix it, eyes widening when you see the strap was cut.

An arm snaked around your waist, pulling you into the alley before you even had time to react, another arm over your throat as your back hit the brick wall with a soft thud.  “Finally got a chance to get a hold of the tasty human.” A voice whispered, a long tongue sweeping up your cheek as you grimaced and tried to push them off. “Always with someone, not so protected tonight are ya?  Did you sneak out of your keeper’s sight?” Putrid breath ghosted over your face, a hand started tugging at your clothes. “Their loss; should have eaten you while they had their chance. I won’t waste time acting like you are anything but food.” 

You tried to scream around the suffocating pressure on your throat, pushing with desperation borne of fear, but they just pulled you forward by the front of your shirt, smacking you back against the wall quickly, your head bouncing off the bricks hard enough to make the edges of your vision dim.  “Heh, that’s all it took to settle you down?” They tugged once and you felt your shirt tear down the front. You gathered yourself to try one more time to buck them off, earning you another painful head crack against the bricks, your eyes clenching against the pain and dizziness. Blinding white light flashed across your closed lids, followed by a scream from the demon pinning you to the wall.  You slumped at the sudden absence of their arm holding you to the wall, scrapping your arms and back against the brick before you had a chance to balance yourself. 

“Ah!”  A familiar voice called out as your knees buckled as the adrenaline faded out of your system.  Another pair of arms wrapped around you which you feebly tried to fight off. A soft shushing sound came from behind you and you felt them cradle you against their chest.  Gentle fingers pressed softly against the sore spot on the back of your head, tsking at the dampness of blood on their fingers. Warmth began spreading from the area, and in its wake, the pain and ill-feeling receded until you could crack your eyes open to see Simeon looking down at you, worry creasing his brow. 

“S-Simeon?  Did you follow me?”  You blinked a few times to clear the last of the fuzziness away, clutching at his cloak when he stood with you in his arms, making his way back the direction you had come from.

“Not…not exactly.  You’d been gone a while by the time I saw Solomon, he said you’d gone home without someone with you.”  You bit your lip and looked down.   

“Well, he was busy…and…” 

“Luke told me.  You think I don’t like you.”  The angel shook his head. “You should know better;  we love all our charges. That’s part of the whole deal.”  He turned the corner, the door to Purgatory hall already open, Luke standing in the square of light worriedly. 

“Are they okay Simeon?

”“They will be.  Lesser demon thought they’d be a good midnight snack.  Didn’t turn out the way they wanted it to.” He carried you the rest of the way to a guest room, setting you down gently on the bed and propping you up with some pillows before sitting down next to you. Luke handed you a blanket to cover your bared chest with, refusing to look at you in your half-dressed state. 

 Simeon looked at Luke for a moment, an unspoken conversation in the looks the two angels gave each other, leaving you a confused bystander.  A short nod and a scowl from Luke was met with a sad smile and soft nod from Simeon. Finally Luke rolled his eyes. “I won’t stop you, but you know Michael won’t like it;  it goes against every rule we have.” He turned on his heel and left the room, a short. “I guess I’ll call Lucifer and tell him what happened and that they’re spending the night here.  I don’t want those demons pounding on our door.”

The click of the door was loud in the growing silence.  “Thank…thank you for helping me, Simeon. I know we don’t know each other well, but, maybe we could?  Luke says it’s not that you don’t like me, but you seem to stay as far away as you can. Could we start over?”  You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment as his shoulders shake with soft laughter. Before you can confront him about it, he looks straight at you, his earnest gaze seeming to look into your soul. 

“You might not know me well, but I’m probably the only one who knows you as well as you do.”  He reached over, pulling your hand to him, flipping it and tracing the almost unseeable scar across the length of your palm.  “Six years old; bike wreck, you tried to used a ramp to jump the creek and ended up in it, a broken bottle cut your hand open.  Ten…no, twelve stitches.” You looked up at him, mouth slightly open in surprise. 

He ran a hand over your shoulder, tracing over your collarbone.  “Broken in third grade, you were trying to do a backbend and your shoulder collapsed when the spotter took their hands away.  You had your tonsils out a week later, the surgeons had to be careful not to move you during surgery and rebreak the bone.” He looked away, tapping his chin.  “Your first kiss was at fifteen, that boy you thought you couldn’t live without. I’m not going to recite how that turned out.”   

You looked at him, the memory of the cafeteria weeks ago resurfacing.  “Simeon…have you been my guardian angel all this time?” 

He smiled brightly as he turned back to you, clapping his hands once.  “I knew you’d figure it out with those clues. You’ve grown into such an intelligent person;  I’ve been almost as proud as your parents!” He sobered. “That’s why I was able to get to you in time tonight.  We can’t teleport per se, but if one of our charges needs us, we can be there immediately.” He flushed and looked heartbroken.  “I almost didn’t recognize the call in time though. I’ve spent so much time lately keeping it blocked off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me though?  You knew who I was the minute Lucifer introduced us.  I’d have loved knowing I got to meet my guardian angel.”

 “Because it’s forbidden.  We’re never supposed to show ourselves to our charges until it’s time to take them to the Celestial Realm when they die.”  He scratched at the back of his head. “And we aren’t supposed to pick favorites or fall in actual love with our charges. I’ve kept that a secret for so long;  watching the person you’ve become, I think this is what humans mean when they say they love someone.”

“How long?”  You reached out, placing your hand over his.  “How long have you been falling in love with me?”

 The dark-haired angel looked at the ceiling, humming in thought.  “Years by now. It happened slowly over time, I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when.  But, it’s part of why I took this spot in the exchange program. They gave your guardianship to another angel while I was gone.  I was hoping I could use the time to get myself straightened out.” He laughed. “And then imagine my surprise when the other human student is the very human I came here to get out of my head.  Seeing you look at me; see me for the first time ever…”  

He beamed at you, a hand raising to cup your cheek, pulling you close. “I want the chance to see if you can feel the same for me.”  He leaned forward, brushing his lips gently over yours before you met him halfway, humming into the kiss.  He refused to say it out loud, but if you loved him the way he loved you…maybe falling was worth it.

[desiraypark]

Shut Up, Clyde.

One Shot EDIT: First entry in the Clyde x Sherri series

Characters: Clyde Logan x Sherri (Black Female Character) (Third-Person POV) Content Warning: Romantic, then they get to the nasty. (N*FW) The following story birthed out of this prompt but it deviated quite a bit lol. Word Count: 2,449

“I just…I just knew it would be too good to be true…” Clyde sat on the side of the bed pouting in his Hawaiian shirt and shorts, looking like a grumpy dad. First, it was the wedding—Clyde’s brother Jimmy had a migraine. And after the wedding, on the way home, him and Sherri had gotten into a fender bender. Now, their honeymoon was starting off rocky. While waiting to board, Clyde realized that he’d left his debit card at home—all the money he’d saved up to give his new bride the honeymoon of her dreams, probably sitting on the coffee table. Then, the airline lost Sherri’s luggage—on its way to Houston, apparently. But Sherri was queen of “rolling with the punches” and was determined to enjoy Honolulu. “I told you, baby girl. Us Logans are cursed. Now, I done married you and cursed you…” he rambled. Sherri pulled back the curtains that darkened their room, revealing a gray sky over Honolulu’s blue waters. Then, she pulled back the patio door to listen to the waves crash. “Jimmy hurt himself playin’ football—ends his career. Then, he gets a migraine before my weddin’. Ain’t no tellin’ what’ll happen to me. Probably end up fallin’ off that damn balcony or somethin’…” Sherri twirled around on her heels and looked at Clyde, talking himself into his own rabbit hole. But she knew how to pull him out. She sauntered over to him and pushed him back on the bed. His dark tresses fanned out behind his skull. “Clyde?” “What?” he asked—confused by her sudden hostility. “Shut the fuck up,” she said. She ran her fingers up his torso and chest, then leaned forward. The dimples appeared in his cheeks and he closed his eyes, welcoming her lips onto his. Then, he let his large hands glide down her back, to her waist, and finally to right where she really wanted them—her plush ass. They both found comfort in his booty rubs. He gave her cheeks a squeeze, then she pulled away from his lips, and rubbed his hair. “No Logan Family Curse this week, okay?” she asked. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to speak positively…” She rubbed his hair, he rubbed her ass cheeks. “Okay…” “We’re going to have a good time…” “Okay.” She dropped her lips to his again and gave them a warm, juicy massage. “Starting now…” Clyde smiled on her mouth, and she kissed the corners of his. Smooch…smooch…smooch…a kiss for his right cheek; a kiss for his left, a kiss on the jawline, then back to those luscious lips of his. He tugged at the soft, thin material of her sundress and lifted the bottom of it over her ass—bunching the fabric at her waist. Cool air hit her ass, and when he realized no material covered it—just the string between her cheeks, he groaned into her mouth and gave her left cheek a smack with his right hand—making her squeal and giggle. She ran her fingers against his chest, then started tugging at the buttons. He barely moved an inch—he just watched her. His honey eyes drilled fiery holes into her face—all she could do was blush, and of course, that little blush made him smile. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. Just before she got to the final button, she kissed his lips again, then separated the material of his shirt, revealing his broad chest. She suckled at his neck and kissed his collarbone. Then, she rested on his lap and planted kisses—kisses for his pecs; kisses for his abdomen, and she slithered back up and flicked her tongue against his left nipple, then sucked it. He shuddered and his hands flew back to her ass. She gave his right nipple the same treatment and in response, he gave her cheek another smack. “I need to taste you,” he mumbled. Sherri shook her head. “You, first.” She scooted onto the floor and rubbed the stiff imprint under his shorts. Then, she tugged at the band and he lifted his hips to help her; then they did the same with his boxer-briefs. His pants and underwear were at his feet, and she smiled up at his erection—so firm and juicy, impatiently awaiting her mouth. She rested her body against the mattress, between his legs, and continued osculating—kisses for the head of his dick, kisses for the shaft—up and down, and up and down, and light squeezes on his balls. His hips twitched upward with edginess and she took the hint. In one shocking movement, she inhaled his entire dick—gagging on it and resting for a few seconds. “Fuck...” Clyde grumbled. When she pulled away, strings of her saliva were attached to a tiny puddle that dribbled down the head—mixing in with his precum. She stroked his length, covering it with her wetness, then, she covered her teeth with her lips, and sucked and slurped on the head. She looked up only to see Clyde’s lifting torso and some of his hairy chin. She covered the shaft with more saliva and sucked her husband like she was made by Dyson themselves. The ocean’s waves sang in harmony with her sucking, slurping, and gagging, and the restrained rumbles he kept in his chest. 

Suddenly, he lifted his body from the mattress to look down at her. He couldn’t quite grip her hair—they were in neat box braids. Instead, he rubbed her neck and shoulders, and just watched. She looked up at him with that cute smile of hers, and with those gorgeous eyes—hungry to please him and tease him—because she knew what her eyes did to him. Gently, he took a hold of her chin, and she pulled her mouth away. He pulled her face up toward his, kissed her mouth, then fell back on the mattress. “Come up here,” he commanded. She climbed onto his lap, but he gestured her closer. “On my face, babygirl.” A chill went down her spine. He called her “babygirl” all the time, but when he did it in bed, there was just a different sound to it. She pushed her thumbs under the string of fabric on her hips. “I’ll take care of that,” he said—voice teetering on impatience. She climbed up the bed, hovered over Clyde’s head, hiked her dress up to her waist, and pressed her knees into the mattress. He pulled crotch of her thong to the side and rubbed his thick thumb horizontally across her lips. Her clit perked up at his touch, and she drew a breath in between her teeth. Suddenly, thunder rumbled in the distance, and at the exact same time, Clyde pulled her down and gave her outer lips a slow peck. Then, his tongue took a long, excruciatingly slow glide across the clit. “Mmm!” she moaned. His fleshy right hand and his plastic left held her in place over his lips, as he flicked his tongue over her clit and around her mound. Sherri gripped the bedding and let her chin drop to her chest. He found encouragement in every one of her moans, as he suckled on and licked all over the clit and fucked her sticky hole with his tongue. She lifted her body and pulled her dress over her head, revealing her strapless bra and belly rolls. He got a quick look at her lifted breasts, and she looked down at his eyes—the only part of his face she could see. Then, she started to grind into his mouth. He gripped her thighs, closed his eyes, and let her warm pussy caress his tongue. Suddenly, as he lapped up her juices, she felt his middle finger press down onto her tight asshole—and she cried out to the ceiling. “Ohh, fuck!” she shouted. He drank down her sap and let whatever he missed drip into his mustache and beard—and he pressed his finger down a little harder, slowly entering her “other” hole. “I’m about to cum,” she whined. She gyrated against Clyde’s face and he flicked her clit with the tip of his tongue—fast and firm, with his left arm on her hip, and his right middle finger probing her asshole. He watched her face twist as sweet, hot nectar left her body and staggered, breathless whimpers left her throat. He let her ride out the ends of her orgasm on his calm, but lust-filled face. Finally, Sherri fell over beside Clyde to catch her breath—but the rest didn’t last long. Before she knew it, Clyde was hovering over her, stroking his dick, and looking over her glistening body. He leaned in between her legs and peppered her warm neck with kisses. She ran her fingers through his hair, and suddenly, felt her pussy being stretched. Her mouth formed into an “o” shape, as Clyde pressed more inches into her—causing heat to radiate throughout her entire body. Instinctively, her hands gripped his firm waist. He pulled his lips from her neck to look into her eyes, as he stroked in and out of her still-sensitive center. “You alright?” he asked—his baritone drawl abnormally husky. “Yes,” she answered, staring dead into his eyes as though he’d pierced her with a sword. As he massaged her walls with his dick, he bit his lip—and she didn’t know why, but that did something to her. Her legs flew up and wrapped around his waist. “That’s right, babygirl. Hold on to me,” he mumbled. She could have burst into tears at that moment. All her senses were tingling, and his deep voice was music to her horny ears. “You feel good?” he asked. “Yes, baby,” she answered. “Good. I’m gonna make you come again just like this,” he said. He bit his lip again and her eyes rolled back and damned near into her brain. “I’m gonna make you come like this and then I want you to climb on top an’ bounce on my dick until you come again.” “Oh, fuck, Clyde,” she grumbled. She gripped his hair, and he picked up his speed—causing her to yelp and close her eyes. The sounds of clapping skin and ocean waves filled their ears. And…what was that? Rain. Thunder rumbled over the hotel—but her creamy pussy was louder. “You hear yourself, babygirl? Do I really make you this wet?” Clyde waited for no answer to his inquiry, and he picked up his speed again. “Yes, baby. You make me so fuckin’ wet, baby,” she replied between clenched teeth. Clyde slowed down and lifted his body, so that he could rest on his knees. He pushed her legs far back, making her toes point in the direction of her ears and giving him a full view of her waxed pussy. She braced herself for the pummeling that she knew was about to happen. “Haven’t made you squirt in a while,” he said nonchalantly. “No, Clyde!” Sherri protested. She covered her face. “You know I hate squirting!” He only grunted in response. Without letting her legs go, he propped one foot up on the bed, kept a firm grip on her legs, and he slid back inside of her. “Ohmygaaah!” she shouted. At a moderate pace, Clyde shoveled her guts like he was hoping to hit a diamond. He looked down at her gushing, stretched pussy. “I wish you could see this. Got my dick all glazed up,” he mumbled. He pulled out slowly, stopping at the tip so he could get a good look at his glistening member, then he slid the inches back in. Sherri’s entire body was one big pulse—she was almost certain that she’d entered another realm. Again, Clyde pulled out slowly, stopping at the tip, then he slid back in—all the way in—and sure enough, he’d done what he set out to do. Hot liquid shot out of her and soaked her crotch, Clyde’s and the bed. “That’s right, baby girl,” he mumbled. He slapped his heavy meat against her clit, and against her mind’s protest, another gusher shot out. She covered her face again. “I hate it, Clyde!” she said with giggle. He moved her arm away and kept pumping. “I know you do, but it does somethin’ to mah ego, darlin.” At least he was honest. He pulled himself out and fell on the bed beside her. Then, he leaned over, covered her face in kisses, and rubbed the palm of his hand against her wet mound. Then, she shot up, pushed him down, and examined his softening dick. She sat on her knees, leaned forward and sucked on the head to get it stiff again. Clyde lowered his chin to get a look at her, then looked up beside him—her tiger stripe-covered ass hovered over him, and he dipped his middle finger into her pussy. But she reached back and swatted his hand away. Giving him no time to resist, she sat up, whirled her body around, knelt over him and eased down on his pulsing dick. To give herself leverage, she rested her hands on his torso, then slide up and down on her personal pole. He bit his lip, reached behind her, and finally unsnapped her bra. “You feel so good, baby girl…” He bit down on his lip again as he looked her over with lustful eyes—her plush lips, her bouncing breasts; her seductive eyes. When she looked down at him, a few of her braids fell forward, and with a twirl of her neck, she swung them out of her face. Not even Clyde understood what that little gesture did to him, but next thing they both knew, he was gripping Sherri’s hips and slamming her down on his dick. She squealed at the sensation of his head poking her spongy cervix and closed her eyes. “Look at me, baby,” he said. Sherri obeyed and looked at her husband. Their skins clapped together like the thunder outside. The storm was their soundtrack. Clyde’s eyes were dark with lust—and love. He grabbed her waist and held her down. Then, accompanied with his groan, the bottom of her pussy was warmed with his seed. She dropped down to his face and let her lips land on his. He gripped the back of her neck for a firmer press, then she dropped her head over his shoulder. Clyde rubbed her back and kissed her shoulder. “I love you,” she mumbled into the sheets. “I love you more,” he responded. Clyde wrapped his arms around her waist. He listened to the thunder and rain. An hour ago, he would have taken it as an omen. But now, he was certain that God just wanted to play a lullaby, as he held one of the greatest creations in his arms.  

[r6s-imagines]

bandit x reader >> way with words

•••

requested: no

word count: 1,244

warnings: cursing, awkward conversation, poor writing

•••

summary: what was supposed to start as a prank turned into a very awkward confrontation.

•••

dominic prepared his plan weeks before. he memorized your schedule, recorded every mention of your agenda just for this very moment. elias has assisted him executing the exciting part, cutting and pasting duplicates of every item of your office into cardboard. he was to sneak into your room, hand all objects to elias and replace them with their poorly made counterparts before you could come back from a meeting.

he peered into the room, calling your name once. it echoed off the walls and he turned to elias, nodding once.

you and dominic have been in a long lasting prank war, pissing off the majority of the rainbow team. the gsg9 have been shamed in helping dominic, claiming that operators should have no time for childish games such at those. even monika teamed in, providing insight for your downtime as she slept in the room beside yours. the four members slipped each other intel during the week, all coordinating for one moment.

he grabbed your monitor first, turning and handing it to blitz. keyboard, mouse, pc, and any book you had on your shelf. he started with your dictionary, then some miscellaneous binders. his eyes caught a well-crafted leather bound book, golden lettering on the spine. he took it out of curiosity, fingers gracing the now-legible title: journal.

"something important?" elias asked, stepping in. "y/n's gonna be back in twenty."

"look," he responded, leaning towards his friend. "journal."

"we're not kids," elias protested, whispering frantically. "she'll kick your ass. just hide it somewhere else!"

ignoring his friend's advice, he flipped open the book, skimming the first few pages.

"this is from back when she joined rainbow," dominic observed, eyebrows raised. "who knows what's in here."

he began to read out loud.

"august second," he said, theatrically. "i was welcomed with open arms. meals are adequate and missions are preplanned to ensure success. many have wished my good luck following my opening and have provided assistance and advice to improve my abilities. some have caught my eye more so than others."

"this is not worth our time, let's just replace everything and bug off!"

"november twenty-third," dominic continued. "we met eyes again today. he was working on his device, watching me with his icy glare as always. i could never figure out what emotion he had, interest nor dissatisfaction with my presence. i can’t help but admire his amalgamation of personality traits. his motivation could be like iron, similarly to his ambition to make you smile. i’m more than willing to befriend him.”

“wonder who she’s talking about,” elias said. “could be you.”

“she would never,” dominic replied. “i’m not worth her time.”

“don’t think like that!” blitz replied. “you never know.”

“november twenty-ninth. i fell victim to hazing, particularly from bandit. he assumed the best idea to welcome me was place a fleet of glasses in my room. of course, they had to be upside down, sending me into a flurry of towels and soaking uniform. my hardware was severely destroyed, and i was about ready to send them to dry outside, but i was gifted a new console courtesy to rainbow.”

“that was a good one,” blitz said.

“but here, check this;” his eyes followed the page. “here’s the following week.

i wasn’t sure if feelings were reciprocated or sympathized with. the winks he sends, the pranks he planned, it all seem good-hearted. perhaps it’s my affections taking over, those in which i willingly admit are evident. i feel myself growing into a fumbling fool instead of the person i was when recruited. his strong body and piercing eyes never cease to entrap me in his aura. perhaps dominic is a player, someone to toy with my doubts and play them to boost his ego, but i doubt it was such. he knew what he was doing, how he was doing it, and why. i’ve been debating to bring it up into a casual conversation, test the water you might say. however, from the countless times i’ve had to watch my back, i’d say he’s more focused on festivities than romance.”

“dominic, listen to that! you’re her little honigkuchenpferd!” kötz teased with a childish accent whilst shouldered his friend, now happily leaning over his shoulder to get a taste of your writings.

“nonsense! it’s likely a platonic yearning or the like. now come on, we’ve got to do what we came here to do.”

light footsteps were heard only meters away, and elias made a bolt for the door. dominic froze in place, hands stiff and spine rigid.

“who on earth?” you mumbled quietly, observing the multiple belongings outside your door. “so much for an eviction notice.” you giggled to yourself.

you turned the corner, sighing in exhaustion before looking up, half-awake eyes shooting open in surprise.

“dominic?” you inquired, unsure of how to react. your eyes trailed to his arms, finding your precious journal closed in his grasp. you reached forward and snatched it, holding it close. your face burned and you felt as if your skin was covered by a layer of heat. dominic grew hot as well, scratching his neck and feeling the pulsing, twitching temperature of his flesh. “why’s my stuff outside? and the... cardboard...?”

he did not reply, he merely gazed at you through his thick eyebrows, face never changing. he gestured a hand to the book, fighting a guilty grin.

“my... book? it’s a compendium. record keeping and such,” you struggled to explain, dodging the correct answer.

“you can just call it a diary,” bandit teased, slipping a smirk. “i won’t tell.”

“you didn’t read it, did you?”

“his strong body and piercing eyes never cease to entrap me in his aura,” dominic quoted hesitantly.

“son of a bitch! look... i’m sorry you had to find out this way. you don’t have to reciprocate anything, and i know it’s a lot to take in especially considering we work together, and—“

“you can stop talking now.” he blurted. you look of complete desperation turned to pure confusion as you both halted your conversation.

“i’ve fucked up royally, haven’t i?” you began, tears in your eyes. “i don’t know what i was thinking, dom. it’s been so long since anyone’s ever cared for me as much as you do.”

bandit placed both of his hands onto your shoulders as if to keep you upright. his thumbs dig into your collarbone, the pressure almost forcing you to cry.

“don’t make this any more awkward for yourself than it has to be, y/n,” he finally spoke. “you have nothing to stress about.”

“you’re joking!” you said through tears. “i’ve spent, what, four months with rainbow and i’m already in love with someone who treats me just like everyone else!”

he moved in, meeting his lips with yours. his beard tickled you but you pressed on, in such a state of wanting and desire for approval that you grabbed his upper arms, keeping him in place. one of his hands went to your waist, pulling you closer.

you wiped your tears, sniffing.

“i don’t kiss my friends,” bandit joked.

“that’s what you want her to think!” elias called from a distance.

“kötz!” he yelled angrily, approaching the door. you snatched his hand, stopping his movements.

“you’re gonna let me clean all this by myself?” you questioned. “seems absolutely fair.”

“you’ve got such a way with words,” dominic chirped. “you’re lucky i like you, or i’d leave this to rot outside.”