#or did anyone else take a bit to notice this

[nemisuki]

Good Soup

Fantasy AU | In a world of whimsical wonders and magic, the only thing you're curious about is why the blonde suddenly got shy at a simple goodnight. The language barrier between them is what keeps them closer. 

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, no angst, aged up, mutual feelings, split pov, language barriers, bkg learning english, silly bestie kirishima included, love confessions gone wrong, oneshot, bkg is a softie, 2.1k word count

"Go on! You can do it!"

An encouraging smile forms on her face. Her hands clasping together as she practically jumps up and down from mere excitement that he finally agreed to her request. 

Her eyes are completely on him, not wanting to look away. 

It takes a moment for Bakugo to register her words. Attempting to recall what she's been teaching him. 

He assumes she's saying something encouraging, given that bright smile of hers.

He can't believe he's doing this. If it was anyone else he wouldn't even be attempting this shit. But one look at her excited expression made his mind think otherwise.

Plus she's been bothering him about this for weeks now. 

Under his breath, he grumbles a handful of curses in his native language, courtesy of his tribe. He switches his weight onto the other foot, crossing his arms over his chest.

She is quick to notice his sudden fidgeting. A sign of discomposure.

But she thinks it's charming. So she'll keep it to herself.

Y/N takes a step forward in his direction, softening her eyes at the sight of him. Realizing she may have unknowingly put too much pressure on him, "Oh I'm sorry! You don't have too, if you don't want to-"

"N-ɳαɱҽ.... αɾҽ... Bαƙυɠσ Kαƚʂυƙι...."

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

Her heart hastens at the sound of his deep voice. His slow and hesitant words echoing in her ear. The foreign accent made her skin tingle with bliss.

After his words, she lets a few giggles escape her lips. Not directed at him, but because the way he avoids eye contact was simply adorable.

She can tell he tried his best.

"Almost!" she says while gently taking a hold of his hand. His body tensing as she makes physical contact.

His eyes darted back and forth between her hand and delicate eyes. She speaks gradually to correct his wording, "my name.... is.... bakugo katsuki.”

She nods in his direction for him to try again.

The sensation of her much smaller hand holding his, the warmth of it, gives him an odd sense of tranquility.

How stupid.

"M-Mყ ɳαɱҽ ιʂ Bαƙυɠσ Kαƚʂυƙι"

"Yes! You did it!"

She squeals with delight. Having to restrain herself from pulling him into a hug. Knowing he'll probably shove her off not a moment after.

So instead she simply squeezes his hand. Honestly a bit shocked he hasn't pulled away yet-

Without warning, she can feel his fingers slowly intertwine with her own. Causing a shiver to go up her spine. 

What is he...

"Gσσԃ.... ɠσσԃ ɱσɾɳιɳɠ"

Huh?

Y/N stares at the blonde, now perplexed at his words. He must've picked it up from their travels together. But does he know what it means? It's not morning but night time.

She tilts her head and lets out a small laugh. How refreshing.

"Hm? Did you mean goodnight?"

The tips of his ears quickly turn red as he hears her laughter.

“Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ" he says, tightening his grip on her hand. Looking into her eyes, now a bit more sincere with his words.

"Ah- you're going to sleep already? I suppose you do sleep early" she hums while nodding in his direction.

"Goodnight Bakugo!"

She's about to pull away yet his grip on her doesn't lessen. His eyes slightly widening at her words.

The blush from his ears immediately spreads across his cheeks in a light dust of pink.

"G-Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ Bαƙυɠσ?" he mumbles to her in slight disbelief.

"Huh? Uh- yeah... Goodnight Bakugo" she says now bewildered by his reaction.

He doesn't move for a few seconds but then his own eyes soften. Completely catching her off guard.

She's never seen such a calm look on his face. And she didn’t know how she lived up til now without seeing it. 

Y/N watches as he pulls his hand away from hers. Now feeling cold without the physical contact. Her fingers twitch, wanting to feel that warmth again.

He takes a hold of the red necklace that's resting along his collarbone. Tugging it off and draping it over her head instead. Lifting her hair so it could sit perfectly around her neck.

She can feel her cheeks warm up at the gesture, "what- your giving this necklace to me? But it's yours" she says, looking down at the red pendants hanging off the black string.

"ʏ/ռ Gσσԃɳιɠԋƚ"

His hand lifts up to gently touch her flushed cheek. Only making her more bashful by the minute. 

What's up with him?

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

The next morning was quite chaotic.

Y/N emerges from their tent, still feeling drained from her sleep. They’ve been traveling a lot recently and haven’t had the chance to rest up properly. 

She steps over to the campfire, joining Bakugo and Kirishima for some breakfast. Seems like the blonde is cooking some soup. 

"Hi you two" she says, yawning and attempting to rub her eyes awake.

She didn’t even have the time to sit down when-

"Y/N?! Why are you wearing Bakugos necklace?!" Kirishima quickly whispers to her, looking baffled and sending a suspicious look her way. 

Kirishima was completely fluent in the English language unlike Bakugo. Apparently when dragon kind are mere fledglings, they're especially quick to pick up multiple languages.

Hence this left Kirishima to be the translator for the trio. 

The duo found Y/N a few months ago, a rogue traveler who enjoyed exploring the world. She practically clung to the two after they helped her take out some bandits, who previously attempted to steal her rare items such as unicorn hair and some potions. 

She grew fond of the duo and decided to tag along ever since. At first Bakugo was completely against the idea. But the red haired dragon took a quick liking to her. So against Bakugos will, Kirishima allowed her to join them.

And so they’ve been traveling together since then. Exploring the world and taking on quests for gold. 

For now they needed rest, so they set up a little camp for a few days. 

"Huh? Oh this!" her hand gently traced over the variety of red beads. A sheepish smile sneaked on her face as she recalled yesterday's events, "Bakugo gave it to me last night when you went out to collect more firewood.”

The blonde ignores the whispered chatter behind him, continuing to stir the pot of soup around. Well not like he could understand what they are saying anyways. 

Meanwhile, Kirishima practically jumps out of his seat from her words. Looking at Y/N as if she had two heads.

"Kirishima? What's wrong?"

"You're telling me Bakugo willingly gave that to you?! Did he tell you anything else?!"

"Uh- well... he just told me goodnight is all"

"Goodnight?"

But before she could respond, Bakugo was already walking towards them. Holding two bowls of warm soup and handing one to Kirishima. 

His head then turns to look at Y/N, holding the other out to her. He seems to be in thought, trying to recall the right words to say, "...ԋι... ʂσυρ... ϝσɾ ყσυ?"

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

"Good Morning Bakugo! Ah thank you so much" she takes the warm bowl and looks back up at him. Feeling her body tingle with joy. A warm smile displayed across her face. 

Kirishima's eyes are practically bulging out of his sockets as he looks between the two. Having a sudden realization.

He quickly looks in Bakugos direction and starts speaking in their native tongue. 

"BαƙυႦɾσ! Aɾҽ ყσυ ƚɯσ σϝϝιƈιαʅ?!"

The blonde's mood suddenly switches as he stares at Kirishima. Immediately soured at the dragons words, "Tƈԋ ɳσɳҽ σϝ ყσυɾ ԃαɱɳ Ⴆυʂιɳҽʂʂ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

"Hσʅყ ƈɾαρ ყσυ αɾҽ! Yσυ ɠαʋҽ ԋҽɾ ყσυɾ ɳҽƈƙʅαƈҽ αɳԃ ιƚʂ ƚɾαԃιƚισɳ ιɳ ყσυɾ ƚɾιႦҽ ƚσ ɠιʋҽ ιƚ ƚσ ყσυɾ σɳҽ ƚɾυҽ ʅσʋҽ! Cσɳɠɾαƚʂ ɱαɳ!" he shines an excited grin and pats Bakugos back encouragingly. His wings fluttered involuntarily with pure delight.

"Hαɳԃʂ σϝϝ ԃαɱɳ ιƚ!" Bakugo yells back, trying to shove his hand away. Followed by a couple of empty threats directed at the red head. 

After a few seconds, confusion suddenly dawns on Kirishima. He takes a peek back at Y/N who is sitting down on a log calmly eating her soup. Already used to the twos bickering so much that it doesn't faze her. 

"Wαιƚ, ԋσɯ ԃιԃ ყσυ ƚɯσ ҽʋҽɳ ƈσɳϝҽʂʂ? Dιԃ ყσυ ƚҽʅʅ ԋҽɾ ιɳ Eɳɠʅιʂԋ?"

"Lιƙҽ I ʂαιԃ Ⴆҽϝσɾҽ! Nσɳҽ σϝ ყσυɾ Ⴆυʂιɳҽʂʂ!"

"Aɯ ƈ'ɱσɳ BαƙυႦɾσ! I'ɱ ƈυɾισυʂ!"

The blonde lets out an annoyed sigh. Knowing Kirishima won't stop his pestering anytime soon unless he answers. So reluctantly he speaks in a quiet grumble, "I ʂαιԃ.... goodnight ƚσ ԋҽɾ"

A moment of silence passes between the two. 

Kirishima tries processing his words but he furrows his brows completely lost, "Uԋ σƙαყ? Sσ ɯԋҽɳ ԃιԃ ყσυ ƈσɳϝҽʂʂ ƚσ ԋҽɾ?"

"Hαԋ? I ʝυʂƚ ƚσʅԃ ყσυ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

"Wαιƚ- ɯԋαƚ?! Nυ υԋ!"

"I ƚσʅԃ ԋҽɾ goodnight! Aɳԃ ʂԋҽ ʂαιԃ ιƚ Ⴆαƈƙ!"

"Hσʅԃ σɳ, ԋσʅԃ σɳ! BαƙυႦɾσ! Wԋαƚ ԃσ ყσυ ƚԋιɳƙ goodnight ɱҽαɳʂ?"

"Eԋ? Wԋαƚ ƚყρҽ σϝ ϙυҽʂƚισɳ ιʂ ƚԋαƚ! Iƚ ɱҽαɳʂ I ʅσʋҽ ყσυ ιɳ ҽɳɠʅιʂԋ!"

Kirishima couldn't believe what he was hearing. From Bakugo out of all people. 

The dragon practically bursts into a fit of laughter. Holding his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes that started to form at this revelation.

Bakugo stares at him baffled then a look of embarrassment forms on his face,"ԃσɳ'ƚ ƚҽʅʅ ɱҽ-"

"D-Dυԃҽ! Goodnight ԃσҽʂɳ'ƚ ɱҽαɳ I ʅσʋҽ ყσυ ιɳ ҽɳɠʅιʂԋ!" Kirishima manages to say in between his relentless giggles.

"Mρԋ-" Bakugo quickly turns around to hide his face. He couldn't believe it. But it makes sense now, last night's look of confusion on her face.

The way she went straight to the tent after he gave her the necklace. He just assumed she was just as shy as he was. 

"Hey what are you two talking about?" Y/N says walking in their direction with a look of interest in her eyes. 

"Nothing, just Bakugo thinking he confessed-"

At the sound of his voice, the blonde spins around and slaps the back of Kirishima's head. Not understanding much but knowing he's up to no good. Making the dragon stop mid sentence to whine and rub his scalp.

Bakugo eyes travel to Y/N, more specifically the necklace around her neck. His necklace. 

He huffs and points at the piece of jewelry. Then proceeds to open his hand at her. Asking for it back silently.

He waits, expecting her to hand it back. 

The blonde was beyond embarrassed that she didn't understand his motivates yesterday. Thankfully she seemed oblivious to it all. 

In his tribe, it's tradition for males to pass on their necklaces to their lover, signifying eternal devotion and trust. Yet the two weren't official after all like he originally thought. 

He'll just give it to her another time. When he learns how to properly confess.

But then all his thoughts pause when he sees Y/N pouting and shaking her head no. Holding the necklace closer to her body so he can't snatch it away.

"I want to keep it please" she says softly to him, hearing her own heartbeat in her ears from the nerves. She doesn't know why he wants it back, but she feels closer to him this way. It's the first thing he's ever given her.

Kirishima being the third wheel, quickly translates to Bakugo with a sly grin.

Bakugo listens then lets out a sigh of defeat. Waving his hand dismissively to her, allowing Y/N to keep it. She smiles brightly and nods towards him, “thank you bakugo!” 

He grunts in response and walks away to serve himself a bowl of soup. Or perhaps to hide the flushed look on his face. 

One day he'll learn how to confess. Maybe he’ll ask Kirishima for some help later on. 

What a pain.

But little did the blonde know.

Y/N was already planning to ask Kirishima the same thing. Trying to learn Bakugos native language in hopes of confessing her feelings. 

Kirishima could only bite back his tongue to hide his knowing smile. Looking at the oblivious pair as they all eat breakfast around the campfire.

Though he couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle at the sheer coincidence of it all.

"Hm? What's so funny Kirishima?"

He dismissively waves his hands at Y/N's comment and smirks, "nothing at all, just realized I forgot to say goodnight to you yesterday" he says, holding back a laugh as Bakugos head snaps in his direction. 

The blonde sends Kirishima a deadly glare. Standing up to teach him a lesson. Seems Bakugo reached his daily limit of the redheads teasing, "Yσυɾ ԃҽαԃ ʂԋιƚƚყ ԋαιɾ!"

That's how Kirishima ends up hiding behind her as Bakugo stomps towards the two. Leaving poor Y/N as a human shield.

She still has no idea what's going on but laughs alongside Kirishima as the three chase each other around the campfire. 

What a good day…. and night?

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ     ⎯⎯ ✦

A/N ||| This fanfic was inspired by a Fantasy Bakugo x Reader piece I read a LONGGGG time ago on Wattpad. When I was younger, I was obsessed with this fic as a newbie reader & mha fan. Unfortunately it never had a proper ending, as it's incomplete like many other forgotten fanfics out there. I’ll add the link here to credit them but please remember it's INCOMPLETE! And the author won’t update it anymore so fyi! This was oddly healing to my younger self, kinda funny how I went from being a reader to the writer :)

[yurilvr4]

mr crawling thirst ! . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

cw: monsters3x (,,¬﹏¬,,) mr crawling has a long tongue canon, sub!mrcrawling, f!reader . [MDNI.]

the room you were carried in was eerily dark and gloomy. a few boxes of something littered in a few corners of the room, worn down walls and a single table sits in the middle of the room, a creaky bed and a closet too. the lights suddenly flickered but stopped when a certain figure kneels near the doorway of the entrance.

“Mr Crawling..?” you say uncertain. he was sprawled out on the floor with his legs curled up behind him, his long, dark hair drapes over his shoulders and down to the grimy floor he sat on.

he perks up at the sound of your voice, crawling closer when you held out a hand in his direction. he hesitates to take it, uncertain if you'd pull away from his touch, but you took his hand and gripped it softly.

“You…fine?” he asks, voice like melted butter, smooth and low— filled with concern.

you nod softly and gave him a small smile. in all honesty, you were exhausted to the bone, running away from all the lurking entity's in this place is extremely tiring and your legs were worn out to the point that you think they might fall off.

“Tired.” you say, slowly so he could catch the words from your mouth. the language barrier was no issue when you and Mr Crawling would talk, it was easy to converse with him since he somehow understood you better than anyone else who's out to pursue you here.

like a kicked puppy, his head hung low and you could see a pout on his greyish lips.

“Me, sorry.” he says, palms coming to rest on your knees in attempt to soothe your legs.

he says a few words, “recover.. recover!” to heal your wounds, your blisters and your scratches.

much to both of your surprise, it did heal almost immediately after he chanted those words out loud. “Wow! I recovered!” you say shocked. 

Mr Crawling nods, his lips curve into a big grin as he cheers, “Recovered! Recovered!” 

you giggle at his silliness, he was so cute you couldn't say it to his face. although you had a feeling he might like it if you actually confessed.

“Feel..happy?” he asks, the smile still on his lips, it curves so sharp that it stretches his cheeks a bit. it doesn't creep you out but rather..you secretly found it endearing.

you nod and grab his head, shook it up softly and petted his hair, swaying his head side to side, the smile on his lips never left.

after your attempt of affectionate gesture, his body language seemed more happy. a rush of excitement runs though his body and he exclaims happily, “Me, Like ..You.” he grabs your body and practically throws himself on you— he hugs your waist and engulfs you entirely with his tall and slender frame.

“Me want together ..you.” he nuzzles his face into the skin of your neck, you feel him inhale your scent. he hums with delight.

you hug him back with the same affection, you couldn't deny that you're actually fond of him. he was so sweet and he would help you when you didn't even ask for it. 

he'd go out of his way just to find you, and save you from sticky situations when you were borderline exhausted from running all the time. he was your savior.

“Mr Crawling…” you whisper, the room was a little too quiet for your liking, save for Mr Crawling’s soft inhales of your skin.

he pulls away, you notice his smile still plastered on his face. 

you couldn't think of Anything to do at the moment And it's not like you wanted to go back out there either. you had a bit of an advantage if you were to stay here— the cons however would probably just halt your exploration to escape until you're feeling a lot better.

Mr Crawling sits obediently on the floor, awaiting any new orders or words that might come out of your mouth. He always sits patiently whenever you're around him. It makes you want to protect him just as much as he protects you.

you decide that since you both basically reciprocated the same feelings, you'd be able to show him right? The thing is…you didn't know how to suggest the idea. You'd just have to hope he understands what you're implying.

you place your feet on the cold floor and Mr Crawling immediately places his hands on your ankles. 

“Recover... Bed.” he mutters, his lips now formed a frown. 

he really wanted you to feel better huh. 

“No, Mr Crawling. Me…” you point at yourself, “Want..You.” your index finger touches his chest.

Mr Crawling’s mouth opened slightly, his jaw unhinges a little and you could see the empty black void of a space inside his mouth.

“Like.. Me?” his head tilts to the side, the curve of a smile coming back to situate itself on his lips.

you nod, trying to be patient. but you want him to kiss you so hard that your lips bruise.

“yes…Me, and you..Now, here.” you try your best to make it easier for him to understand your implications. you even point at yourself, and drag your hands down your chest, to your tummy and then your thighs. you unconsciously clench your legs together with red cheeks.

as if he could sense your urgency (which he did), he places both hands on your knees and softly pried your legs apart. 

now, if you were fully packed with extra clothing and gear, you wouldn't be having to wear your 3 day old panties And bra, the only thing protecting you from getting fully dirty was the white robes you'd always wear whenever it's time to venture out again.

Mr Crawling’s stares (?) (he has no eyes but you could feel his stare anyway) under your ragged skirt. his slender fingers splay over your thighs like he's about to tear your flesh apart. 

he dips the blunt of his nails into your skin and inhales deeply. you couldn't help but whimper and you clench your clothed cunt, juices already spilling out and staining your cotton panties.

he tilts his head with curiosity and his mouth forms a small pout. you writhe with need and you situate your hands on his head, pushing his body forward a bit. you didn't want to force him or anything but he seemed like he wanted you more than you wanted him

you writhe with need and you situate your hands on his head, pushing his body forward a bit. you didn't want to force him or anything but it seemed like he wanted you more than you wanted him.

he breathes heavily, heaves and you see his chest rise and fall. he gently pushes your body backward, and you topple on the creaky bed.

“M-Mr crawling..” a small gasp left your mouth, he deftly dives in between your legs and nosed your slick underwear, he saw the wet patch forming under the cloth and he drags his tongue out to test the waters.

you inhale when you felt his hands pull your underwear down and tossed them to some random corner.

his tongue darts out and he drools over your wet folds— Mr crawling watches you twitch underneath his ministrations.

you grip his hair and he whimpers in between your legs, his tongue laps around your heat and you whine for more.

there was something carnal with the way he held you, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs that tore the skin apart in the shape lines of his nails.

he continues to suck your cunt until you feel an unfamiliar tight coil in your tummy, coming apart and finally snapping, you see stars when you come generously on his slithering tongue.

“M-Mr C..rawling..” your eyes are lidded with pleasure when he climbs on top of your figure to lick your cheeks.

“…like …” he says, his giggle is high pitched and happy— you grab his jaw and kiss his mouth.

it was hot and sloppy, your tongue finding his to slot your lips over his mouth to kiss him properly. Mr Crawling mewls, his hands sliding up to kneads your breasts softly while you gasp with need.

he grinds his hips into yours with fervour and you can feel his stiff press against your inner thigh. you gulp as he continues to lap and lick your lips, not knowing how to kiss properly.

“come here.” your hands found his lithe waist and guided his hips down on your cunt, you move your own hips up to meet his hard cock.

he whimpers, a soft and small sound leaves his throat and he hugs your frame, grinding his cock between your folds, languidly moving his hips as you moan into his mouth.

you guide your own hand down and grab his swelling cock, it was real huge— something you've never seen before. his hands halt and he stays on top of you obediently waiting for you to begin.

he whimpers when you pump his hard stiff several times, one, two and then three when you finally see copious loads of white dribbling down his tip. it aroused you, and he likes it a lot.

"smell ..good.." mr crawling leans down to nuzzle his face in between your neck, sort of buries his head in there as he moves his hips slowly into your hands.

"satisfied?" you ask, kissing his cheek as you picked up the pace, dragging your hand downnnnnnn all the way up to his angry tip.

he doesn't say anything and just let's out soft cries, whimpering and breathing heavy into your skin. you smile wide when he comes, his sticky seed flows up your arm like waterfall.

his cries fall on your ears, whimpering like a kicked puppy as you milked his seed until he slowly writhes, thighs shaking.

you coo and kiss his cheek, his hands are on your shoulders when he finishes cumming.

"....good." he says, licking your face and you chuckle.

[xiaomainlmao]

Kinich x reader

----------

Kinich always believed that he had to do things on his own. A tough negotiator, he knows better than anyone else that all things come at a price. Thus, to avoid being indebted to anyone, he preferred doing things on his own from a very tender age.

Some people don't like him because he always charges mora for his services- he's aware, but he never bothered with the opinions of others. There's only a select few for whom he would do favours for "free", if he feels like it that is. (And even then, "free" just means without mora, but in return for other valuables or acts of service like with Mualani or Kachina).

Thus, even when he saw the commission with "unknown details" and with a "threat potentially greater than a few rabid saurians", he did not bother asking for more details, or bringing anyone to back him up.

Bad decision, he realises, pushed to a corner by abyssal beasts. The "rabid saurians" he had to take out, had already been taken out. A small group consisting of yumkasaurs and koholasaurs slaughtered by the mimiflora, who now took on the form of the dead beasts.

An abyssal pylon must be nearby, the frequency of the monsters confirms it, but it doesn't seem to be in plain sight.

"Ah your foolishness will finally lead to your doom! This HAS to be the moment I, the Great Dragonlord K'uhul Ajaw, have been waiting for. Now rejoice! For once I have taken over your mortal form, I shall grant you the mercy of avenging you." The pixelated being floats higher into the sky, perhaps to get a better view of Kinich's current predicament.

"You talk too much." Kinich growls, not sparing even a glance to Ajaw, long used to his antics.

He effectively shields himself with his greatsword from another one of the beast's attacks while another tries to claw at his abdomen. He wasn't caught off-guard by the number of enemies, merely outwitted. In any other situation, all he had to do was destroy the pylon, and defeat the remaining beasts.

If only the pylon were in sight...

Kinich barely dodges the yumkasaur that leaps at him, his braids coming undone. He's panicking a bit now, being reminded of the time he died in the Night Warden Wars, but he doesn't intend to retreat, not yet.

If only the pylon were in sight....

"Lean backwards! Quick!"

He hears a voice, and instinctively obeys. However, he isn't sure if he moved in time, as he feels a warm liquid seeping through his pants near his calf.

Blood.

With his leg injured, he's bound to be held back even more now. Kinich gazes down at his bleeding leg, and lifts his head just in time to see shards of ice appear in front of him, creating a barrier between him and the mimiflora.

"Delivery for 'Malipo' Kinich! Chief Wayna told me you'd be here. You were gone for longer than usual, and he started getting antsy." You used your rope to swing to Kinich's side, a small smile on your face and your polearm in tow.

"UggHH YOU MEASLY INSECT! HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE PROCESS THROUGH WHICH I COULD HAVE ATTAINED THIS GRASSHOPPER'S MORTAL FORM." A very red Ajaw slowly descended downwards to where the both of you stood, causing you to chuckle.

"My apologies, Great Dragonlord," you tease, "but it's not over yet."

"There has to be an abyssal pylon nearby, I just don't know where," the saurian hunter states, bracing himself for the approaching mitachurl.

"Ah yeah, those things. It's up there." Kinich follows your gaze and notices the tiny blackhole hidden behind a foliage. "Ah, so that's why he didn't notice it."

"You're injured. You probably won't be able to stand the attacks." You quickly assess his stumbling form.

"No I ca-"

"Deal with the pylon, I'll deal with the monsters." With a quick spin of your polearm, you charge at the mitachurl, swiftly cutting through its mask before using your cryo vision to freeze the surrounding hilichurls in place. Kinich watches your stable form hindered by his bangs. A bead of sweat dripping down to his chin.

"You lowly SERVANT. Are you really just going to stand here? Make a choice you dimwit." Ajaw screeches.

The saurian hunter regains his composure at this, quickly flicking his hair to the side and using his grappling hooks to reach the branch. He glances at your fighting form one last time before dealing with the pylon.

The cries of the hilichurls dies down almost immediately. Relaxing, Kinich stumbles down to the ground, realising the weakness in his legs. And his bleeding wound. He sighs as you approach him.

"What do you want in return for saving me?"

You don't reply, instead you kneel down by his side to assess his leg. "Here, let me cool it down." Cryo energy flows around the blood-stained claw marks, making the hunter hiss in pain.

"Give me your hand, I'll take you back to the tribe. Cryo isn't the best substitute for an ice-pack."

"No, it's alright. I'll get back on my own. I don't want to be indebted to anyone."

"Hmm..." placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to think as a smile creeps up on your face. "You asked me if I wanted something in return, correct?"

"Yes?"

"Well, in return for saving your life, I would like for you to listen to me and let me help you."

"But that would only make me more indebted to you-"

"I'm not really seeking for anything in return. But since you don't take things for free, I'm asking for your compliance."

"..."

"Please, Kinich. Help me help you."

Sighing, he takes your outstretched hand, letting you take the lead back to the tribe.

"HAH. So my lowly servant decides to succumb to someone else. SO MUCH for not taking favours. Hey wait- ARE EITHER OF YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME. DON'T LEAVE ME BEHIND YOU MORTALS."

Well, that's another headache for Kinich to deal with- finding a way to repay you.

----------

Thank you for motivating me into writing a Kinich fic <3 @aurumalatus

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[bears-fics]

Coffee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: cross-posted on ao3, bit buildup and dialouge heavy oops, no use of y/n, female reader, sub spencer and dom-ish reader (you're a bit sweet on him), spencer whines so much, degradation and praise kink (spencer), explicit consent, oral (fem receiving), coming untouched, multiple orgasms, protected p in v sex, riding, coming prematurely, overstimulation, dacryphilia, aftercare

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: You discover something about Spencer after a sleepless night, and it doesn't leave your head until you can sort it out in a hotel room.

A/N: my first time writing smut so I hope it's okay :P comments/reblogs would be super appreciated but don't feel obligated!

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

It started over coffee. It was a ritual, your favorite of the several you and Spencer shared. You would both come into work, way before anyone got there. Spencer would pour his coffee with its obscene amount of sugar, and you'd slot beside him to pour yours with its obscene amount of creamer. You'd talk, or Spencer would, normally about whatever obscure theory he was fixating on.

Today though, you made a beeline for your desk after filling your cup. It had been a sleepless night, filled with nightmares of the horrors you saw on the regular in this field, and you had a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.

You'd hoped Spencer would leave it, and he would've with anyone else, but he always was too comfortable around you. As you stood, so did he, and as you moved to refill your cup, he grabbed your hand.

"Spencer," you said, trying to keep your voice gentle despite your irritation.

He looked pointedly at your oversized cup. "Caffeine overconsumption can worsen anxiety and insomnia," he started, in that tone that indicated a rant, "as well as inhibiting focus, which you need for this job- well, you need sleep too, but that ship has sailed, from the looks of it-"

"Spencer," you practically growled, "shut up and let me pour the damn coffee."

You hadn't meant to sound quite so mad, and an apology was about to leave your mouth before you noticed the blush painting Spencer's face.

Blush?

It was undeniable. There was splotchy color covering his cheeks and the tip of his ears in a way you'd only seen whenever Morgan teased him about his sex life. He'd hunched in on himself, this 6'1 man somehow making himself small in front of you. He wouldn't look you in the eye, which wasn't new, but it felt different this time, and it didn't take long to figure out why. His pupils were blown wide, overtaking his irises.

And you were gaping at him like an idiot. Your jaw snapped shut as Spencer nodded before speed-walking to his desk, as if he was hoping you wouldn't notice.

Of course you noticed. You noticed everything about Spencer, from the way he twisted his hands to his perpetually mismatched socks. You noticed so many miniscule habits that even Spencer himself probably didn't that you could've started a notebook with them; not that you needed to, since they immediately stored themselves in the front of your mind. Obviously, you noticed the glances when he thought you weren't looking, the way he sat next to you on every flight, and the million other things that he would never do for anyone else.

It was something unspoken between you, a closeness you couldn't or wouldn't act on. It was fragile, sugar-spun glass painted with the shades of brown in his puppy-dog eyes. You were so afraid to break it by acting too soon, too fast. You knew you were harsh, too much. But you also knew it would have to come to a head eventually.

God, you needed more coffee.

-

You had a case that day. Of course you had a case that day.

You're a professional, you reminded yourself as JJ briefed the team.

Fraternization was frowned upon, you thought as Spencer's hand sat dangerously close to yours on the flight.

Bad idea, you reasoned when Spencer looked up at you through his eyelashes as you connected evidence.

Terrible idea, really, you grasped at when Spencer didn't stop looking at you after that.

It was torture, going through the motions of an entire case with the image of a flustered Spencer playing on loop every time he spoke. You were out of it, distracted, and not because of that second cup of coffee.

It boiled over when you asked an officer to repeat himself for the third time. Hotch had asked you to follow him in that "I'm extremely disappointed" tone that he'd perfected.

He led you into an empty room, near-slamming the door shut.

"What is going on with you?" Hotch starts, before taking a breath and cutting himself off.

"Listen, whatever is happening between you two, I need you to sort it out as soon as possible," he says. You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. "We're all profilers," he points out with a raised eyebrow. He sighs.

"We're staying at a hotel tonight. Sleep it off or... do whatever you need to." He leaves you alone in the room. You compose yourself before facing the rest of your team.

"Sort it out."

Fuck it.

-

It took hours to work up the courage. Hours of pacing around your room combing over every possibility in your head. Every rule that was being broken. But, Hotch had told you to do what you needed to. And that image of Spencer wouldn't leave your mind.

It must have been around 2 AM when you finally ended up knocking on his door. You expected he would be up, but it still surprised you how quickly the door swung open. He hadn't even changed into pajamas, and you realized that in your haze of worry, neither had you.

"We need to talk," you said, firm. Spencer gulped and moved aside to let you in. You stood near the edge of his bed, one hand on your hip. Spencer sat on the bed, gazing up at you with a look that would've been innocent to anyone else.

"This morning," you start with a sigh, "I didn't mean to be that rude." Spencer looks like he wants to say something, but he's holding his tongue. "But, from the looks of it," you continue, "you didn't mind."

Spencer's mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Nothing comes out but a hitch of his breath. He's avoiding your eyes, staring past you to look at the blank wall. You can't have that.

You snap in front of his face, soft but stern, like you're trying to get a dog's attention. His eyes snap to you, pupils blown wide. “Look at me when I'm talking to you,” you say, in a gentle version of the tone you had used that morning.

He whimpers.

He fucking whimpers, maintaining eye contact like you'd asked him to.

You bite your lip slightly, rolling it between your teeth before letting it go. Spencer's face flushes that beautiful red as his hands fly to his crotch, trying in vain to cover a growing erection. You let out a laugh.

“Needy already? From me just talking to you? How pathetic, Spence.” Your voice is low and rough as you gently grab his wrists to move his hands. “Don't. I want to see you.”

The show of control has Spencer whimpering again, starting up at you pathetically as he gets impossibly redder. He's so far gone already, and it's filling your head with things you want to do to him, but you have to make sure he's truly okay with it first.

“Spencer,” you say as you let go of his wrists, earning you a whine, “can you come back to me for a second?” He just whines again, a far-off look on his face, so you let his breathing level out before you tilt his head towards you and pat his face until he looks at you again.

“Spencer,” you say again, still holding his face, “I need to know you want this.” He nods, almost frantic, but you tut at him. “Words,” you scold.

“I do, yes, I need it, please, anything-” Spencer babbles, before you lean down to cut him off with a bruising kiss. He whines immediately, letting you add tongue. You bite at his lower lip, making him moan.

Spencer pulls away to beg. “Please,” he says, “please, I need-” He cuts himself off with a whine, frustration evident.

“Aw, my stupid baby,” you coo, straightening up again. “What is it? Can't you talk, or are you that gone already?”

Spencer whimpers, flushing more at your degradation. “I wanna- I wanna taste you. Please.”

It takes you a second to process that. Spencer Reid, notorious germaphobe, wanted to eat you out. You paused so long that Spencer started to look worried. You unsuccessfully tried to form words a few times and then-

“Knees. Now.”

Your voice sounded commanding, even to you, so it was no surprise that Spencer scrambled to kneel. You stripped slowly, carefully, watching him to make sure he was staying still.

When you were naked, you took Spencer's place on the bed, spreading your legs. He slotted between your thighs, leaning his head on one and mouthing at it. You brought your hands up to his hair, petting it.

“Good boy,” you croon, “so patient for me.” Spencer is purely blissed out below you, all kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He looks like he'd be content to stay leaning on your thigh forever, just mouthing and biting, but you're impatient.

You grab his hair, gently pulling him to where you want him. He looks up at you, as if asking for permission. “Go ahead,” you grant. He nods and licks a stripe between your folds before circling his tongue around your clit. Your breathing quickens as your hand tightens in his hair and you let out a low moan.

Spencer whines around your clit, circling one of his lithe fingers around your hole before pushing it in, searching for the bundle of muscles that would make you shake. He finds it when you clench around him, and he adds another finger to keep curling into it as he sucks on your clit in earnest.

You're whimpering praises, “good boy”s and “so good”s, as Spencer keeps whining against you and sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

He switches the place of his fingers and tongue, using his thumb to circle your clit while his tongue fucks into you.

Your hand tightens in his hair, a borderline pull, and the feeling of Spencer whining in you sends you over the edge with a curse. He laps at you until you're squirming under him, so you use your hold in his hair to pull him back.

He looks heavenly, your slick and cum coating his mouth and chin as he pants. He smiles up at you dumbly.

“Fuck,” you moan. A pang of guilt hits you as you realize you've been ignoring Spencer's (probably painful by now) erection. You're opening your mouth to offer something when you notice the wet spot on the crotch of his pants. He avoids your gaze when he realizes you've figured it out.

“Spence,” you start, “did you-” He cuts you off with an apology. “I'm sorry, I- You just…” he trails off. You gape at him for a second, shaking your head.

“Don't apologize,” you say sternly. You pat the spot on the bed next to you, sending Spencer scrambling to get up, still blushing furiously.

You grab his hand once he's sat, trying to be gentle. “Do you want to stop?” you question. “No!” Spencer almost yells as soon as the words leave your mouth. “No,” he says again, quieter but just as desperate.

“What do you want?” you question. You like controlling him, you really do, but you also want to spoil him after he made you feel so good.

“Wanna be inside you,” he mumbles, staring at you with those big, doe eyes. You pause for a second- God, he needs to stop saying things that make you pause- before you crash your lips into his, frantically stripping him out of his clothes.

You get him down to his boxers before pulling him into your lap, licking into his mouth for what feels like an eternity. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it's fucking divine. Unfortunately, you do have a need to breathe.

You pull away, touching your forehead to his as you pant. You break the trail of spit between your lips as you move to his neck to bite and suck a hickey too high up to be covered by his collar.

Spencer squirms and whines underneath you as he hardens again. You grind against him in circles, puffing against the mark you'd left. Finally feeling the outline of his dick reminds you of one glaring, unfortunate fact.

“I don't have protection,” you say, moving back from his neck. Spencer bites his lip, fidgeting with the back of your shirt. “I do,” he practically whispers. You nod to give him permission to go grab it, scooting over to give Spencer space to lay down like you want him to.

“Spence,” you say, grabbing his attention from his place at his go-bag. “You want a safeword?” you question when you have his attention. He hums. “Color system work?” you follow up. He hums again, turning around with a condom and a small lube bottle.

You bite your lips at the implication of getting to feel him inside you. “Come lay down,” you invite, patting the space beside you. He comes willingly, settling rigidly as he sets the items on the nightstand.

You move to sit on his thigh, rubbing his chest to soothe him. “I'm gonna ride you. Is that okay, sweet boy?” you ask. He nods, frantic, flushing down to his chest.

You grab his face. “We've been over this, Spencer. Words.” you reprimand. “Yes, please, please.” Spencer slurs, breathing heavily just from you teasing him.

You move your hand to his hair, stroking gently. “Good boy,” you encourage, your other hand toying with his boxers. You look at your hand, then up at him. “Please,” he whines. You lift yourself off his thigh, tapping his legs so he raises them and taking his boxers off.

His cock springs free, red and leaking and coated with his earlier orgasm. He's-

“So pretty,” you whisper, reverent. Spencer's dick twitches at the praise, making you bite your lip. It matches the rest of him, tall and built but also lean. The thought of taking it has you unconsciously grinding against his thigh.

You don't realize you're staring until Spencer whines and puts his hands on your hips to get your attention. “Sorry, baby,” you apologize. You take his hands off your hips and hold them at the headboard with one hand while grabbing the condom of the nightstand with the other. He goes impossibly redder with the restraint, dick twitching again.

You hold the condom up to his mouth. “Can you hold this for me, Spence?” you prompt. He understands immediately, taking it in his teeth as you rip it open. You take the trash out of his mouth and flick it aside before rolling the condom on in a fluid motion that has Spencer bucking into your hand. You hold his hips down once your hand is free, a scolding expression on your face.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles. Your face softens. “It's okay, sweet boy,” you croon, “just be good for me for a bit more.” He nods frantically, an almost pout on his face.

You let go of his hip and his hands to grab and pop open the bottle of lube. Spencer whines from the lack of contact. “Shh,” you soothe as you squeeze lube on your hands, throwing the bottle somewhere in the mess of clothes on the floor before stroking it up and down his cock. He shakes with the effort to not buck into your hand this time.

“Good boy,” you praise as you lift your hips up and brace your hands on his stomach. He whines in anticipation.

Slowly, carefully, you sink yourself down inch by inch. Spencer's a mess beneath you, whimpering and shaking with the effort to not thrust up into you. It's a view that you would cross oceans to see, and he's giving it to you willingly.

“Good job, baby, so patient,” you pant as you bottom out and begin to rock your hips to get used to the full feeling. You squeeze your thighs around Spencer's hips, keeping one hand on his stomach and moving the other to pin his hands again.

He whines, impossibly loud, to the point the team can probably hear him since you're all in the same hallway, but you're way too focused on the stretch of Spencer's cock to care.

You take a shaking breath before you begin to move in earnest, going almost all the way up before slamming back down with a moan before setting a normal pace.

Tears prick at the corners of Spencer's eyes before rolling down his flushed cheeks as you move faster and faster, chasing the high coiling in the pit of your stomach, and then-

Spencer gives a long, drawn out whine and you feel the condom fill.

You stop moving, snapping your eyes open to glare at him. He's gone, completely, so you snap in front of his face again to get his attention.

“Spencer, did I say you could do that?” you scold. His eyes snap open, tears still streaming as he shakes his head frantically. “I'm sorry, I'll be good, I swear-”

“No,” you snap, cutting him off as you start rocking your hips again, “that was bad. And you know what bad boys get? Punished.” Spencer starts sobbing in earnest under you, hiccuping around the words he's trying to form. “I can't,” he cries, “I can't, too much, please-”

“Shh,” you soothe as you rock back and forth and feel him hardening inside you, “you know your safeword. You can be good for me, can't you?”

Spencer nods and whines and sobs frantically as you start moving again. With his spent dick twitching inside you and the sight of a man with an IQ of 187 hiccuping beneath you, it doesn't take long for you to cum again. The way you clench around Spencer sends him over the edge too, whining still.

You give Spencer a few minutes, let the tears stop and the fog in his eyes clear before you stand up off of him and tie off the condom. When you go to throw it away, he grabs your wrist. “Don't go,” he slurs sleepily, barely a whisper. “I'm just cleaning us up,” you assure him.

You toss the condom and grab a washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning the slick from Spencer's chin and your thighs as well as the dried cum off of his dick. He's too spent to have much of a reaction to anything, so you have to tap him to get his attention before tossing some of his boxers at him.

“You mind if I borrow something?” you ask as Spencer covers himself up. He nods, too tired for words, and you steal boxers and a sweater before crawling back into bed with him.

You're nearly asleep when he nudges you. “What is it?” you mumble. “Love you.” Spencer says, like it's the most sure he's ever been of anything. You open your eyes and stroke his face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Love you too.” you whisper, and it's the most sure you've ever been too.

Spencer spoons into your chest as you drift off, and despite it being so late, you wake up the most rested you've ever been.

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Gardening buddy ୨୧

pairing: Joel Miller ♡︎ Fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ porn with plot, sorta sub!joel, shy Joel, Tommy being an ass, softdom-ish!joel, pussy pronouns, Reader has hair long enough to “gather” (tho it doesn't matter much) with female anotomy, pnv and f receivng oral

summary: ʚ you have some plans to expand the garden and poor Joel just can't resist you ɞ

Words: 5.2k

A/N: lets pretend it didn't take me 22 days to write this lol

P:1 P:2 P:3

Joel swirled his whiskey slightly. He didn't even really want the damned thing. However, he would never decline a free drink. His jaw clenched slightly, eyeing the crowd. It was one of the many community events Jackson liked to host. Joel hadn't gone to many of them if he was honest but Tommy being the ever-intrusive brother he was, he pretty much had no choice but to show up tonight.

Plus you were gonna be there tonight, which was always a bonus.

It was no secret to Joel (or anyone else for that matter) how beautiful you are. You were younger, younger than him at least. He wasn't one hundred percent but early thirties he was guessing. 

You were funny, talented, and had a level head. Dangerous combo for a man like Joel. He'd seen you around of course. You didn’t go on patrols but you did run the gardening area when it came time and helped teach when it was cold.

Joel had noticed you but never had a real reason to say much to you so he didn't. That wasn't until Tommy had introduced you both. Fucking Tommy. You wanted to expand the garden, so you went to Tommy. 

————

Joel had just gotten off an extra patrol shift. He didn't have much to do nowadays so it was either sit around and play his six-string or go out and try and help out.

He had made a promise to Maria to stop by tonight for some planning. He wasn't too sure why, seeing how Joel didn't contribute much. As he knocked on the door and Maria’s half smile greeted him his curiosity grew. 

Everyone knew Joel was a little shy even if he would never say that. He heard your voice, he'd seen you teaching the littles outside enough times to recognize your voice by now. Why the hell were you here? 

“They're in the kitchen. Go ahead and head on back. I'll be right there.” Maria said with a soft smile and a strong hold on Joel's shoulder. She released her grip on the man, smirking to herself and she walked away. As her boot heel clicks got further away it dawned on Joel he had to now navigate a social situation with his brother and a person he didn't know too well.

Great. This oughta go well.

His face was neutral as he walked in. “Oh, there he is! My big brother, ladies and gentlemen.” Tommy walked around his kitchen island to hug his brother. Joel didn't have a moment to prepare as his younger brother's arm came crashing down around his shoulder. His eyes flicker to you who is, In defense, looking away but quietly giggling at his brother's actions. 

“Jesus Tommy, what is all of this about?” he says, fighting the way a red tint covers his face, neck, and ears. Embarrassment floods his system. Tommy loosens his grips eagerly looking at you. “Go ahead tell him.” you raise your eyebrows in surprise at the sudden spotlight. 

“Oh! Well um, well I sorta run all the gardening and whatnot here as well as teach the younglings how to garden and- sorry I'm rambling,” you say waving your hand a bit with a wide smile. You take a deep breath and lean into the kitchen island pointing to a paper, probably a map.

“The garden needs an expansion. There are a lot of people here, and everyone has a mouth to feed. I'm not thinking huge but bigger,” you said gesturing with your hands. Joel nods, walking over to the workspace. “Alright,” he states. Seems like a reasonable plan. “What’ you need me for?” his hands find the counter.

Your eyes flick down but just as soon as they look down they look right back up. “Well I came to Tommy- well actually to Maria THEN to Tommy but he said you're the man for the job,” you said placing your hand on your hip. Course Tommy would sign him up to do the grunt work for a pretty girl like you. 

The old man's eyes shifted to his brother who was now feeling less confident in his skills. “It ain't a big job Joel. We’d get the supplies in a few weeks max.” Tommy said encouragingly. He thought for a few moments.

He should say no. He's old and he ain't got time for no gardens.

————

His stomach swirled with anxiety for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. He told himself he was simply observing the dancing crowd. But he knew who he was looking for. You. He was looking for your awfully friendly smile. Your worn but cute jeans. 

He had spent so much time searching, eyeing the crowd he didn't see the very object of his affection damn near skipping up to him. “Hey gardening buddy!” you shouted holding out your arms. 

Joel's eyes widen at your contact. Your wave of joy crashed into him. “Woah don't kill the old man now!” Tommy shouts from the bar before getting a not-so-playful nudge from his wife. You pull away looking back to rolling your eyes at the younger Miller.

“What an ass,” you mutter, eyes fluttering back to Joel. Joel smiles looking down too nervous to look at you. “But how are you? Enjoyin’ the dancing?” your hand found its way to his shoulder. Your fingers smoothed over the fabric of his jacket, dipping under and pulling his flannel out.

His eyes watch your fingers drop the fabric as you chuckle to yourself. “What?” he finally manages. You were so touchy… it was weird. He didn't mind really. It wasn't anything that would cross a line. Just friendly things. 

Or he thinks.

He hopes it's more, secretly. There are several reasons why it could never work out between you two… You are younger, sweeter, softer. 

He can't think about it too long. He's alone most days now. And thinking about how fucking soft you are will ruin him. When those thoughts bubble up into his mind they don't just stay there. They find their way into his bloodstream… his bones.

He can picture your smile, the way your lips feel against his. The curve of your back, ass, thighs… anything his large rough hands could get on. He'd want all part of you. You smell like honey, or maybe you actually smell like honey. 

He blinks back to you smiling looking at him expectantly. “Yeah uh…” he scratches the back of his head, taking a deep breath in. You do smell like honey. “Ain't much of a dancer, to be honest darlin’,” he sighs. You nod your head with a smile, it is your turn to look down now. “Yeah sorry, I ain't buyin’ what you selling honey.” 

His eyebrows raise as his lips follow in a smirk. “Yeah?” he asks, placing his bands on his hips. Your arms cross with defiance, “Yeah.” your confidence oozed off of you like a waterfall. 

Maybe it was the drink you had or maybe it was you trying to ignore the beating in your heart whenever you saw Joel but you needed a dance.

————

You stood in the front room of Tommy’s looking at all their pictures as Maria shifted around her drawers for something she owed you. Joel, having just agreed to help you expand the garden, had gotten a hard smack on the back from Tommy, a warm smile from Maria and you guessed it a hug from you.

Joel rounded the corner to see Maria approaching you with something small in her hand. “Hey thanks,” you said taking it from her and pushing it in your pocket. “Anything to take the load off.” she winked at you. 

His sister-in-law looked at him and with a quick nod and a “Joel.” it was just you two in the living room. “Thank you again Joel for helping me with this and I promise I will help as much as I physically can,” you said walking up to him. “Quit thanking me, it's not a big deal.” not needing to put his heart in any more strain. 

You let out the (cutest) giggle and stepped back slightly. “Heh- sorry. My name is y/n by the way. I feel like I didn't introduce myself earlier.” 

It felt silly to Joel you felt the need to introduce yourself to him. Like you two haven't met before. Of course, it dawned on him. You just don't think about him as much as he thinks about you. Why would you? He's just Tommy's older brother.

“I know what yer’ name is darlin’.” A slight awkwardness hangs in the air, just like the Christmas lights in December. There to look at and admire. “Right, sorry. I know who you are too. Joel Miller. Tommy’s handsome older brother. You've got quite the reputation.” you said with a wide smile trying to use it to cover up how your face was starting to burn.

If your face was burning Joel’s must be on fire as he opened his mouth to speak but not a word came out. Not only did you know who he was but you called him handsome. That's when the schoolboy crush began in its full form.

No longer could he pretend he just thought you were pretty; those pesky little feelings found a way to weasel into his heart. “Handsome, huh?” he asked, not able to make eye contact.

You bit your lip at his nervousness, toe-ing forward slightly. “Well sure,” you explain. “Hard to miss those big ol’ muscles of yours riding into town,” you said. Your words may be teasing but your tone wasn't. You were more quiet now. 

That's right. The old shift he and Tommy would do usually had him coming into Jackson as soon as you were bringing the littles on a walk around. That means not only did you know him, you saw him. Nearly every damn day. Did you miss him on days he wasn't there? Ever think about sayin’ hi?

“Yeah uh, I remember now. You used to have the kids out about the same time every day when me and’ Tommy’d bring in the horses.” he said gesturing to nothing.

“Yup, that's right. Hey, why don't you do that shift anymore,” you asked, shifting your weight on your feet. It was weird that this didn't feel weirder. Felt like y'all had been friends a while and not for 30 minutes over talking about some garden bed plans.

It still was awkward. It seemed like a tidal wave could hit and you still wouldn't shake the nerves. 

It had been a while since he did that patrol. “Oh well, they can't have an old man on the new guy shift eh?” he said, trying to ease ever-flowing anxieties. It was also a reminder for himself. He is older than you. Therefore out of reach for you and him. Couldn't help it, however. Thinking of the older man. You say older like he isn't a mere 20-something years older. 

“Old man? I've seen the way you wrangle those horses. Old man, where huh?” you teased, arm reaching out for your coat on the rack. He chuckled following your lead pulling his old and tattered Carhart piece on. “Yeah well, I ain't young like I used to be. Think Tommy started to notice finally.” 

He thought back to when he first got to Jackson. Begging Tommy to take Ellie from him and save her. He felt like he was going to get her killed, no he knew he was going to. He was right. He ended up hurting her worse than any scar could.

Now he had no one. Except Tommy. Stupid Tommy.

————

“Well unfortunately for you I was just about to head out.” Joel declared. He wasn't planning on it but now was as good of a time as any. Wasn't it? “Oh leave? Oh no no sorry honey I'm not letting you leave without at least one dance. Are we clear?” you tease poking his chest slightly. 

You laced your fingers with his guiding him to the ‘dance floor’ of the tipsy bison. He felt the warm feeling of your skin bleed into his. He felt the eyes of other patrons on you both. An old man and a young girl. 

The slow country song filled the air. Once you settled on a spot a little far away from the watchful crowd. You twirled around settling your arms around Joel's neck. You start a small sway back and forth to the music. His eyes didn't meet yours, instead swam through the sea of faces

What were they thinking? Were they judging him? “Hey cowboy,” his eyes flutter down. “Eyes on me.” he looks away but not for long, his eyes fall back

To yours like a comforting hug. “Why are you doin’ this?” His voice is low but not mad. “Cause you're cute,” you whisper back faces inching forward. 

There's a beat of science before Joel feels like a familiar feeling bubble in his lower belly. His arms slink down to your waist, his rough hands gripping slightly. His face dipped down to your neck next to your ear, his beard tickling your skin. “You wanna uh- get outta here?” he asks slowly, trying not to make his idea very public.

“Thought you'd never ask.” 

You both chose an Irish goodbye as the safest option. Quietly slipping into the quiet cold night. Your dancing outfit was less than ideal for the colder weather. The freezing air nearly pierces your skin, and if god had heard you just then a blanket of warmth comes down and encapsulates you. 

You turn your head to Joel who has now wrapped his very thick and warm jacket around you. “Thank you,” you said leaning closer to him as you both walked toward your road. No further words were said but your heart seemed to be beating faster than it had all day. 

You rushed to your house's front porch eager to escape the cold. You opened your front door shuffling in and letting Joel in after you. He took in your space. It was cute. A few books were on your coffee table. He would need to ask about those later.

He watched you idly as you kicked your shoes off, tossing them into a shoe bin. You ran to all of the lamps in your living room, turning them all on. It gave the room a homey feel. The realization of what he was about to do started to sink in. 

He wanted to fuck you.

Fuck felt like such a disrespectful term. You were a lady and he was a man. Making love? That felt too cheesy. But maybe Joel was just a cheesy guy... God, 5 years ago he would haven't even considered you romantically, let alone get nervous at the thought of having sex with you.

But here he was watching, getting increasingly nervous as you started a fire in your fireplace. He started to rub his shoulder slightly, watching as you were satisfied with the height of the fire. 

You shrugged his Carhart jacket off placing it on the couch. Joel’s eyes followed you as you approached him. His heart jumped as he felt the air get warmer and it wasn't the fault of the fire. He saw you glance at his lips as you got closer and closer. 

“Are you nervous?” you asked in a teasing voice noticing his quietness. He stood there without making a noise. His silence answered any questions you had. “It's ok,” you took one final step towards him. “We can go at your pace.” 

Your fingers found the sides of his face. Your hands were so soft unlike his, “S’ been a minute since v’done this. S’all.” he breathed out looking down. “That's ok, we can go as slow,” your hands found him pulling them around your waist. “Or as fast as you want this to go. No pressure baby.”

He kept his hands on your waist. Big rough mounds of flesh gripping your waist. His breaths are shaky, he can feel you. He needed to feel more. Joel takes the leap of faith. He pushes his lips against yours. The rest of your body follows as you get pulled flush against him.

You're so warm. He can feel your warmth against his crotch. The flesh of your stomach warms and rubs against him from under the fabric of your clothes. Your lips are soft and you taste like the wood flavor of a good whiskey.

His mouth engulfs yours. His body needs you, craves you. Your fingers find his hair, begging to pull him close. “Joel…” you manage as you press your nose against his. “Come on baby,” he whispers back, nudging your nose slightly. 

He pressed his body against yours encouraging you to start walking backward toward your couch. Your knees hit the plush on the furniture. You let yourself fall back as your chest rises and falls rapidly. He stands over you watching. His pupils are blown.

His skin feels so hot like he needs to jump out of it. On the other hand, he feels like his skin would ignite with yours to create the most beautiful fire. He can't believe he is gonna do this. You feel the same. You watch as he slowly sinks to his knees, choosing to ignore the small pop noise you hear as he settles closer to you.

His old, dark but kind eyes bored into your soul as you leaned closer to him on the couch. Your legs spread open to create room for him. Your mouth collided once more, this time with less urgency. Softly and slowly his tongue explored your mouth. 

Making sure every single inch of him tasted every inch of you. Your hands found quick work of his flannel nearly ripping it off of his body. He watched in awe as your soft eyes filled with lust. You needed him. Was he going to be able to give you everything you needed? 

You seemed sure he would. After making quick work of his flannel your hands started to pull his shirt up enough to expose his round soft belly. Something he is not particularly proud of. But he would be lying if he said the look in your eye didn't give him a slight ego boost 

To you, he wasn't a flabby old man. He was a damn near work of art. He couldn't bell but hesitate taking his shirt off the rest of the way as he watches your eyes track his torso. The only thing snapping him out of his state was realizing you were now looking right at him. 

“Huh?” he asked, staring up at you. You gave him a knowing smirk, “Do you wanna take your shirt off? Or keep it on?” you asked, biting your lip. In a preferable world, Joel could keep all of his clothes on for this. He can't… not easily that is. 

So he took a deep sigh. “Whatever you want honey,” his drawl bleeds into his words and your bearing heart. “Are ya sure? Cuz’ if I have my way you ain't wearing anything.” you said, dragging your finger down his chest. He shivered slightly.

You wanted him. “S’fine by me. Want you the same way.” a flash of heat finds its way to your core. He wanted you. “Oh yeah?” you asked, shuffling back to him and pressing your lips against him, fingers dancing to rip his shirt off. 

He lets you, it's hard to calm his breath enough to kiss you and not freak out. But soon enough his shirt is gone, and you guide your fingers to his having him dip under your shirt. He for a second isn't sure what to do, his brain only being able to think about how soft you are. Jesus, he is losing it. Eventually, he allows his hand to glide up your back.

Fumbling for a second with the bra strap before undoing it. It was at this moment that Joel slowly remembered who he was. He was dominant, soft, and experienced. Your eyes go slightly wide at his ability to snap your bra off. 

“My my he has many tricks up his sleeve,” you say with a smile as he pulls your bra completely off your body. “This ain't my first rodeo darlin’” he comments, unable to hold back a small smile. “For your sake, I’d hope not.” you joked. He rolled his eyes. The atmosphere shifted again. You gripped the bottom of your top pulling it off yourself.

His eyes and some drops. Your perfect tits sat looking right at him. “Christ,” he murmured, moving closer to you. His mouth instinctually moved to your collarbones, his hands slipped up your stomach. 

You breathed out at the feeling. He was wonderful. A breathy “Joel,” flew past your lips as his mouth went further, taking your nipple into his mouth. Slowly licking and sucking on your mound. Your fingers found his hair. The tips and nails tubing against the roots of the salt and pepper locks. 

He pulled away, a single string of spit still connecting the two of you. His mouth found your other tit, replicating the same love did to the other side. The slow-burning ache started to fill your system. You pressed down onto the couch trying to find any sort of relief from the pressure. 

Joel saw your struggle. His rough fingers slid down to your ass, even in jeans his touch felt so good. “Oh, we’ll get there.” he whispered, pulling away from you. “Please, Joel. I need you,” you whined. 

He pulled further away and he crept to your buckle, his eyes searched yours for permission. “Go ahead,” you whispered with a nod, he turned his attention back to your pants. He fumbled a second with the button, then in the blink of an eye had the button undone and the zipper down and was pulling your pants off. 

They were down at your ankles and then they got tossed aside. Joel eyed your thigh and stomach like an animal waiting to pounce. The feeling of his rough calloused hands rubbing against your soft flesh sent waves of pleasure down your heart. 

A prominent wet patch formed on your panties. Joel's touch was both gentle and comforting. Your finger dove under his chin holding him to look at you. “I need you, please…” you repeated. God, you sounded so whiny. 

“M’gonna m’gonna, ya gonna need to be patient f’me,” he whispered before he started kissing the flesh of your thigh. The words alone send you gushing into your panties. His scratchy beard added another sensation all welcomed.

You clench around nothing desperate for pressure. After he was satisfied with making out with your thighs making sure you were nice and wet for him, he pulled away. You watched as he moved to the top of your cunt hovering just above you. His hot breath sent shivers up your spine.

You breathed out and his mouth collided with your clothed heat. He covered you with kisses, slowly but deep, and the passion grew in your lower belly. His fingers slowly hooked into your panties. He slowly dragged them down.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, your entrance was glistening with slickness. All for him. Had he really done that to you? “My god baby, you trying to kill me,” he whispered. His thumb slowly spreads you open, and his finger gently brushes you.

Your legs jolted and he knew he found your clit. He watches your face as he slowly begins to rub circles. Your eyes gleam over with love. He maintains eye contact. You slowly began leaking your pussy fluttering around nothing.

Joel licked a big stripe up gathering all your juices on his tongue. You let out a soft groan. He slowly began to stick his tongue in hitting your G-spot. “Wait-” you breathed out, smoothing your hand over his hair. 

He pulled away, lips glistening and pupils blown. His heart sank to his ass, what had he done? Why did he think he could do this? He wasn't any good, not anymore at least. Maybe he never was. 

“Can I take off your pants? But leave your boxers still on,” you asked with a sheepish smile. He blinks for a second before standing up. The world seems to rush up with him, he can feel you tugging at his belt but he gets so dizzy all he can do is slowly rub his thumb across your cheek as he looks down at you.

He could get used to this view. He begged you'd look real pretty down there, taking him in your mouth. The thought alone makes his cock jump, or maybe it was the cold air as you pulled his pants down. His hard cock begging to be released.

You don't answer his prayers as you scoot back on the couch with a content smile. Joel discards everything still left on him minus his boxers. His knees make a familiar pop as he settles back in between your legs. His kisses return and so does his tongue as he begins to re-light the fire growing in your belly. 

His hand flexes up to yours grabbing yours and putting you right on your clit. His strong arms wrap around your thighs, pinning your legs open. The cold sting of his watch sends a shiver up your spine. You rub your clit trying to keep up with his pace.

It was hard to keep in rhythm, your legs shook around his head and in his arms. You felt the coil threatening to snap and you couldn't take it anymore, you removed your hand and gripped your couch cushion. “Joel- I'm so close.” 

He hummed into your sex, your back tried to arch off the couch as he kept you pinned. Your legs shook as the coil snapped. Your orgasm deafening any other stimuli. “Ohhh fuck Joel.” you whimpered into the air.

After a second his ministrations stopped, and your legs were sore but a good kind of sore. The kind where you can feel pleasure for hours. You work to catch your breath as the older man on his knees for you slowly stands up. “Jesus.” is all you can say with a smile.

“Still got it in me huh?” he said, rubbing his jaw. “Oh no Joel you had it in me,” you whispered standing up to meet him. “Oh yeah?” he asked, letting you invade his space. “Yeah,” you whispered, pulling him into a kiss, your taste still on his tongue. You let out a small noise. “Taste yourself, baby? Sweetest pussy I've ever had.” and you moaned again. 

You needed his dick right now. 

Your fingers fumbled for the fabric of his boxers. They were hot and so was the rest of him. Chest tinged with a slight red color. You pulled down as you kissed him, and his hard member sprung up. Joel hissed inwards at the sudden cold air.

And Jesus was perfect. He was long, or at least longer than anyone you had ever seen in real life. And big. God, you were gonna feel this man in your toes. You looked up at him with a loopy smile. “Not too bad for an old man,” you mumble, your tease must have been good because at that moment his rigid cock jumped slightly up.

That was your cue to begin. Joel shot you a warning glance with his eyes, but a smirk tugged at his lips. You slowly begin to tease him, fluttering your hands around his hips and thighs. Before you can sink to the ground his strong hand gathers to the back of your head. He guides your head back up, and you're confused.

Worry starts to flood your system. You cock your head to the side trying to figure out why he wouldn't want you to suck his dick. He was already hard, he ate you out just moments ago… none of it was adding up in your brain.

“That's not how this is gonna work,” he says as his large hands find the sides of your arms. He gently moves you to the couch. You plop down, still confused. “Work? Work how?” you ask. “You don't needa suck m’off just cause I did what I did.” 

You shake your head with a smirk, “I don't need to do anything. I want to, Joel.” you mustered up your best puppy eyes. “No baby what ya’ need,” he starts walking towards you. Your knees hit the couch again as you flop down. His hand meets your knee, spreading your legs for him. “What you need is me in that pretty little cunt. She's begging for me,” he whispers in the last part.

Your mouth is slightly agape. Have you really just heard that? No way… right? Joel came down to meet you, his hands roaming your body tentatively. He lined himself up to your entrance.

“Sure you wanna do this with an old man? We can stop.” he reminds you. “No we can't,” you said

With a smile. “Yes, we can. This can end now. You don't have to do this.” and while his words were so sweet, you needed him to fuck you. “Joel, pleased I've waited so long for this,” you whispered. He nodded, positioning his hard length in you.

It felt like he was piercing you. As he pushed into you you mewled out. He instantly stopped,” You alright?” he asked his warm rough hands creating the greatest sensation in the world. “Mhm, just stings a little that's all,” you whispered nodding at him. Joel doesn't move his eyes searching for permission to keep going. 

“Go ahead, m’ ok.” you encouraged. He nodded pushing in about halfway, it was his turn to make a noise. You were so tight and warm and ready for him that he nearly keeled over at the feeling. God, he wasn't gonna last long. Once he pushed all the way in he dove down to kiss you. 

His hips began snapping against yours as your mouths melted together. You pulled away the feeling of his dick prodding your tummy become overpowering, to say the least. Your fingers scratched down his back leaving long traces in your wake. 

He breathed heavily, his forehead planted on yours. “Mm fuck me,” he muttered gathering your hair and yanking your head down to look at where the two of you met. To see you swallowing his cock whole. “Look at you, baby. Your-” he took a deep breath in. “Fuck, you're doing so good baby,” you whined out in response. 

Joel could feel his orgasm approaching. He gritted his teeth together, “Fuck! Come one baby m’ so close. Needa to come first. Make me all wet.” he cursed. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your throat. You were so close, he had fucked your brain quiet.

Any sort of thought beyond his dick, hands, or voice was a lost cause. The coil in your stomach snapped, your walls clenching around him violently. It was enough to draw out his orgasm. “Fuck.” you both whimpered as you clung to him.

[marauder-misprint]

Charms

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.5k words

cw: fluff

After lunch, you had a free period. You had gotten comfortable in a bay window with a book and it didn’t take long for one of Hogwarts’ strays to find you. You had started with just absentmindedly petting it, but then it curled up in your lap and fell asleep. You both loved and hated how content it looked snoozing away. You groaned when the bells chimed to signal the end of the period. You couldn’t move, not with a sleeping cat in your lap. How could you disturb its rest? 

You sigh. At least it’s only Charms. You accept your position and continue to read. You’re certain that Pandora or Dorcas will take notes when they notice you’re not there. If worse comes to worst, you could see if Evan or anyone else has notes. Or you could have Dorcas ask Marlene for Lily’s notes. Staying with the cat seemed more acceptable with each person you added to the list of possibly having notes. For all you know, Professor Flitwick could be reviewing a spell you’ve already mastered and you’d be bored out of your mind anyways. Yes, staying here and letting the small creature remain unbothered was okay. 

Sirius, who had gotten better at sneaking glances at you during the classes you shared, notices right away when you aren’t in your seat next to Pandora when Charms starts. As much as he wants to point it out to his friends and get their opinions on where you might be, he doesn’t. If he did, he’d endure more teasing about “still being intrigued” by you. He was. He just doesn’t want to deal with his friends right now. 

Despite knowing you aren’t there, Sirius continues to glance toward Pandora throughout the class. He also looks at the door. He’s hoping you’ll walk in with some excuse for being late, but you never do. Sirius has never found it so difficult to pay attention in class. He really hopes that his friends don’t notice him scanning the room and ask him what he’s looking for. Still intrigued. He wasn’t sure if this intrigue was developing into something more. Interest. More than interest. He felt a need to get to know you better. To get you to like him. You were a dog person after all. You should like him. 

After class, rather than heading straight to his next lesson, he looks around the corridors a bit. He’s looking for you, but if anyone dared to ask, he would claim to be looking for a dropped quill or something. Is a quill a believable thing to be searching for? If he dropped an ink pot, that would break. Maybe a misplaced textbook? He’s still thinking of possible excuses for what he was looking for when he spots the real thing: you. Your hair seems to glow in the sunlight from the window where you’re sitting, book in hand and cat in lap. Of course you had an animal with you.

“Ah, there you are!” Sirius exclaims, strolling toward you. “You missed Charms!”

You tilt your head, looking up at the voice. 

“Have you come to give me your notes?”

“Do I look like I take notes?”

“No, but looks can be deceiving.”

A crooked smile appears on his face. 

“And how do I look, darling?” He strikes a pose, earning an eye roll from you.

“Like a pompous arse who doesn’t have notes to offer me?”

“Hmm, not the answer I was going for.”

You snort a laugh, which slightly disturbs the cat still sleeping in your lap but it adjusts and falls right back asleep.

“What do you want to hear? Oh, Sirius, you’re so dreamy and fit and charming and dashing,” you say in your falsetto.

Sirius laughs and leans against the wall near your feet. 

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Then go find your fan club. They’ll tell you that.”

You turn back to your book, hoping he’ll leave. He doesn’t.

“Are you not in my fan club?” he asks, tapping your shoe with his finger. 

“No. Never have been,” you say. Your eyes are glued to the pages of your book. 

“It’s always accepting new members.”

You look up at Sirius with an annoyed look, which softens quickly when you see Regulus approaching from behind him. 

“Reggie!” you call with a wave.

Sirius spins around, coming face to face with his brother.

“Sirius,” Regulus greets his brother coldly. His tone warms when he looks back to you. “I have bad news for you.”

You groan. “It’s formal?”

He nods and Sirius looks confused.

“What’s formal?”

“You’re still coming, right?” Regulus asks you, his eyes pleading you to say yes. “Please?”

“Yes, I’m still coming,” you say and his face lights up. “But! You’re coming dress shopping with me.”

His face falls. “Why?”

“Because I’m not taking Dorcas or Pandora.”

“What do you need a dress for?” Sirius asks. 

His interest in whatever his brother has invited you to is growing. What event was Regulus taking you to that you needed to wear a dress? He was amused that you would be dragging his brother shopping for said event. That unnerving feeling that he had in his stomach a few days ago outside returned as he thought of you twirling in a dress in front of Regulus for his opinion. 

Regulus shot Sirius an annoyed look, as if saying it wasn’t any of his business. 

“Just a Slug Club thing,” you say, waving your hand dismissively at Sirius. “So, Reg, we’ll go to Hogsmeade this weekend, yeah?”

Sirius didn’t wait for Regulus’ answer. He left you two with his mind spinning on how he could be invited to this Slub Club thing. Who did he know that was in Slug Club and would likely not already have a date picked out? 

“Yeah, this weekend works,” Regulus says. He pauses as he turns to see how far away Sirius had gone. “Why was he here?”

You shrug. “Don’t know. Thought he was maybe going to offer me notes for Charms, but no.”

“You were here all period, weren’t you?” he asks, eying the sleeping cat.

“Little thing is just so comfortable. You can’t blame me!”

“You’re unbelievable sometimes, you know that, right?”

“It was just Charms!” you exclaim. 

“And you skipped it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“What do you have next?”

“Transfiguration…”

Regulus gives you a small smile before he scoops up the cat. It chirps with wide eyes at the sudden movement. He gently places it on the ground and it runs away. 

“Come on,” he says, grabbing your hands. “Let’s get you to Transfiguration.”

“But!”

“No buts! As your friend, I can’t let you skip classes all day because a cat was sleeping.”

“Regulus,” you whine.

“I won’t hear it,” he says definitively. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Doubtful,” you grumble but now that you’re standing, you let Regulus lead you to your next class. 

---

It hits Sirius after dinner when he’s in the Gryffindor Common Room. Lily is in Slug Club. Despite all of James’ attempts, she is very single and likely needs a date to the party. She could be his way in. He was fairly certain he hadn’t seen her buddying up to any guy recently. He approaches the table where she’s sitting with Mary and Marlene. He puts a genuine smile, hoping it helps his cause.  

“Evans! You know how we’re best friends, yeah?” 

“Words never used to describe us, but go on,” Lily laughs as she looks up from her homework. 

“I’ve decided that I’ll be your date to Slughorn’s party.”

She looks at him with a confused expression.

“You’ve decided?”

“Yes.” 

“And you want to go to that?”

“Yes.” 

“Do I want to know why? Usually people not in Slug Club are more than glad not to go,” she says.

He presses his hands on the table and leans forward. “I just need to be there.”

“Need to, huh? Would you behave?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t believe you, Black.”

“What would I even do?”

“I don’t know. Prank Severus or something stupid.”

“I thought you didn’t like him anymore,” Sirius says, his brows scrunching together in confusion.

“I don’t,” Lily says pointedly. “But that doesn’t mean I want my guest at Slughorn’s party to be causing a scene. It’s my image on the line.”

“I promise I’ll be on my very best behavior.” SIrius looks around the common room. “I swear it on Remus’ books, James’ broom, Peter’s wizards’ chess and my hair.”

“You almost have to say yes now,” Mary says with a giggle. “He swore on his hair and I want to see what happens when he fucks it up.”

“I won’t!” he asserts. 

“I suppose it saves me from actually asking someone… Alright, Black. You can come.” She pauses and looks Sirius up and down. “You know you have to dress up, right?”

He nods and smiles at her. “That’s part of why I need to go.”

Lily exchanges glances with Marlene and Mary as Sirius returns to where his friends are gathered near the fire. 

“You’ll have to give us a play-by-play. Black needing to go to Sluggy’s party?” Marlene tells Lily. 

“Do you have any idea what that’s about?” Mary asks.

Lily shakes her head with a sigh. “No… I just hope I don’t regret it.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark

[luimagines]

Scales and Feathers, Tails and Tethers Part 3

Chapter three of King Dragon Time, anyone? :)

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous Chapter/

Content under the cut!

Time stiffened his back. His tail swung irritatedly behind his form, wings spread in an almost territorial display. The blood had drained from his face, giving an unnatural paleness to his already otherworldly appearance.

You were limping, with your arm over your stomach as if you were keeping your entrails where they belonged. “Good afternoon Your Majesty. Forgive me. I did not intend to be late.”

He growls lowly, getting impossibly more tense as he sees you. Your disguise is less than pristine, something you would have never allowed otherwise. “You’re here…You…” He growls again. “Why haven’t you come in to report? You know the clear statements of our contract.”

You sigh. This was what you feared. Despite his otherwise threatening nature, his voice wobbles and you can fear an uptilt to his voice. Panic. You didn’t think he was capable of the emotion. Still, you’re sore, in pain and lacking the patience to think beyond what’s been given to you. You’re not going to think of the implications.

“I got sick.”

“For two months?”

“Yes.”

He fumbles, breaking the still nature of his posture, tail aside. He breaks character, stepping down one step from his throne before he stops himself once more. His tail swishes behind him with more wild agitation, nearly hitting the very thorne by the wall. His initial anger dims and he moves back to sit on the throne. You can see the way his jaw clenches and how his knuckles go white from the force of his grip on the arm rests. 

You gulp quietly. You know that he knows that you're lying.

The King takes a deep breath, wanting to stay angry with you for worrying him so. He wants to be angry that you’re actively lying to him. “Where were you?”

“Hospital.”

Time manages to hit the wall behind him with his tail. Warrior stands on edge at the far wall of the throne room. You know better than to look at anyone else other than The King when he gets like this. 

But you’re very tired. You want to go home.

He growls. “You could have said something-”

A leg gives out from underneath you and you fall to your knee, barely catching yourself as it was.

Time shuts up instantly, eyes widening. He jumps to his feet once more, milliseconds from jumping down the steps to his throne to catch you. 

With a rueful laugh, you push yourself back up before he can reach you. Neither of you noticed (or at least verbally acknowledged) that he ran toward you.

"Admittedly, I debated coming here even today. I'm not... I'm still not ok..."

Time can feel his worry dampen his anger completely. He stands at a distance still, a wall between you both being kept up now that you’re on your own two feet once more. His tail continues to restlessly twist behind him like a disgruntled cat.

You smirk a bit, trying to keep up appearances. "As you can imagine, I have nothing to report seeing as I've been out of commission for these past months... Nothing... Nothing substantial anyway..."

Time gulps. "....What happened?..."

"Got sick." You shrug, trying to keep yourself light hearted and worry free. You think you’re about to pull some of your stitches. You’re still not sure if coming today was a good idea. It feels too soon from a physical standpoint alone. 

There was a part of you that worried about the King though. You felt obligated to explain yourself. So you came. Now that it’s done, you feel as if your duty has been completed. 

The King bites his lip, trying to read your body language. "Would you like to sit down?"

"With all due respect…” You trail off, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you force yourself to stand straight. Yup, you pulled some stitches for sure. “I’d... I’d like to go home now, Your Majesty."

"Of course." Time deflates. He watches you move, brows furrowing as he forces himself to keep his distance.

He watches the way you favor your left side and how you try to keep yourself from limping and folding over. Time steps down again, quietly, silently in the way that all predators can move before Warrior steps forward at last to stop him with a single raised hand.

Time scowls at the younger man but falls back again, leaving the throne entirely as Warrior walks to catch up with you. He’s been watching you this whole time with that short interaction you have with the King and the smell of blood isn’t lost on him.

You feel a sudden heat behind you but when you look, Warrior was only inches from putting a hand on your shoulder. He lets his hand drop at once. “Are you ok?”

“Captain.” You sigh, flinching before you can stop yourself. “I really really just want to go home right now.”

“Let me walk you home.”

“You always say that.” You shake your head. “And you know what I always say.”

“I’m serious.” Warrior stresses, putting his hand on your wrist. His grip is delicate but you’re not fooled. He could easily pick up you if he wanted to. Such is the superhuman strength of a dragon. “You scared us. At least let me make sure you’re safe. His Majesty was virtually inconsolable. He was about to tear up the kingdom to look for you.”

That stops you. Still. You’ve gone to great lengths to keep your secret identity well, secret. There’s a slight warmth beginning to blossom in your side though, and you know your magic won’t hold for much longer. You need to get home. Now.

“Captain, thank you for the offer. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me and continue to offer but I really can’t do this.” You take his hand off of you. It’s not lost on you that you do it so easily. “But I really should get home as it is. T-...Take care of His Majesty, ok?”

Warrior sighs, and a small tongue of flame flicks out of his mouth as he turns his head away,. “You’re just as stubborn as he is.”

“I’m sorry.” You step back, taking out your notebook. Your pen is a familiar weight in your hand as you flick open the pages. Quickly writing D-O-O-R, a glitter of light sparkles behind you, summoning the door that you know and have grown to love.

This time The Captain fully growls at you. His eyes sharpen into an unnatural green as his fangs grow into his mouth. It makes you gasp, taking a full step away from him. His gaze is locked onto you. “You’re weak enough as it is. You shouldn’t be using your power.”

You gulp again. The force of his power is stronger than you originally thought. It dawns on you that you’ve underestimated the King’s right hand man this entire time. With a robotic jerk of your hand, you put it on the door handle, ready to make a run for it if this creature you’ve angered decides to strike. “This is my door. My home. …I’ll be alright.”

It doesn’t seem to settle him as you’d hoped. He snarls again and crosses his arms. His eyes don’t retreat back to the normal blue you’ve grown accustomed to but he nods his head. “Go on then. And make sure you rest properly.”

You nod back and enter the door, locking it on the inside for good measure before opening your notebook once more to erase the word you’ve written. That should have eliminated the door beside the Captain, leaving your apartment safe and sound once again from anyone wishing to find you.

With a shaky breath, you let the magic fall from around you, leaving you in your injured and perfectly normal civilian state. You lean on the door, sinking to the floor with a sharp hiss. Looking down, you lift your shirt. White bandages are wrapped tightly around your abdomen. They’re unblemished for the most part except for the blooming pink stain on your left side. You tore stitches. Just like the doctor said you would if you weren’t careful.

It was a calculated gamble. But never let it be said that you were a prodigy at math.

You groan loudly, not caring if your neighbors heard you. You’re going to have to go back to the doctors, or painfully do it yourself. You know how. You’re not sure how you know how but you know that you know how.

You sit on the floor, getting up only when you feel your stomach begin to protest the lack of food.

Something on your balcony catches your eye. Another gift perhaps, you think. It would be poor timing for one.

You step out but there was nothing there, save for a small bright green sticky note. You pick it up and bring it inside. The message was simple but bone chilling.

“I know who you are.”

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Warnings: yandere character; stalkerish behaviour; implied imprisonment;

  Imagine you work at a small, out of the way gas station or convenience store, farther away from the town limits and closer to the tree line that marks the start of the local woods.

  Getting strange customers is a common enough occurrence for you to not really bat an eye, drained from the hours standing and mindlessly nodding along with...Whatever it is that the current weirdo was ranting about while checking out their purchases.

  But there's this particular one that started to leave you suspecting that something isn't quite right.

  Well, he wasn't exactly a customer, per se, more so someone who loitered around the premises late at night. Very late at night. Completely covered from head to toe, leaving little to identify him by, no matter whether or not the temperature outside would make it unbearable to wear that amount of layers. 

  He always seemed nervous. Fidgeting, waiting for something. Or an opportunity. You aren't saying you think he comes here to steal. But you also aren't denying that sometimes you swear certain items in stock just go missing. And you have a theory as to what might be happening.

  To give him credit, he wasn't there every single day, not even every single week or month. You assume he comes back when he runs out of something. How organized of him.

  But you weren't planning on confrontation. They don't pay you enough to care and no one else in staff seemed to even notice him or what whatever he's doing, so you thought of leaving it at that. It's not like he was harassing anyone, either way.

  But then the fateful encounter happened.

  You stayed on a shift for later than you usually do, courtesy of your usual coworker not being available for that day. And as you momentarily stepped outside to take out some of trash, you bumped straight into him. Literally.

  The crash between you two was already a big surprise, but what you saw as his sunglasses fell off his face surprised you even more.

  You both stared at each other, stunned into silence. He seemed on the verge of panic, but you felt more deeply confused than anything.

  Did he have two pairs of eyes?

  Your brain tried to reason with what you were seeing, realizing more and more that you are looking at something real and not some sort of costume as his pupils frantically darted around. He took a few steps back, hands in air to indicate surrender.

  He spoke up, slightly shaky, apologizing profusely as he promised he was going to leave and never come back. But you stopped him on his tracks before he could get too far, grabbing onto his sleeve, now noticing as well that his skin is of a very unnatural green tone.

  "Wait! Who are you? Or what exactly are you?"

  Maybe a bit of a rude question all things considered, and you were freaking out internally a little bit, but...You were pretty sure you were talking with something distinctly non-human. Isn't that kind of exciting?

  He was more shocked about the fact you didn't immediately scream at the realization of how he looked, and didn't follow that up by running back inside to warn whoever was still in there. He himself was planning on bolting back into the treeline, forgoing going back here ever again.

  As much as part of him was screaming to run away, that it was a very bad idea to stay and risk letting yet another human see him, he stayed glued to his spot as you started to bombard him with questions. For however strange and unplanned this meeting had been, it was...Nice, to have someone's immediate reaction to his appearance not be disgust but instead curiosity. Even if your barrage of questions were starting to get a bit ridiculous.

  Ever since then his visits seem to start having a different purpose.

  He would wait for you, hiding behind places where customers or your coworkers couldn't see, and as soon as you'd leave for a break or to leave for the day, you two would stay and talk for a while, away from prying eyes.

  It became a habit. It became the thing he looked forward to the most.

  It was so nice to finally have someone to talk to. To finally feel a connection. He couldn't help it, and before he knew it, he was suggesting for you to come visit him instead. 

  He can guide you through the woods! He knows the place so well and you'll be safe with him. He has a nice cabin and beautiful garden and he'd love to introduce you to the cute chickens he keeps, he just knows they'd love you! And he'd love to have the opportunity to cook you a nice meal, too.

  He swears he didn't have any ill intent.

  He just wanted some company, a visitor. How nice it would be to share a warm meal with someone in the comfort of his home? How nice it would be to have someone to talk to while working on his projects, to fill the rooms with laughter and light conversation? To not wake up alone in the emptiness of those wooden walls?

  How nice would it be? Wouldn't it be so, so nice to not be alone anymore?

  And so, while feeding into the idea that he surely wasn't doing anything wrong, he watched as you stepped further into his cabin, taking in your environment with a curiosity he has grown to find really endearing.

  You had no idea. 

  And as he closed the door behind him, he knew you wouldn't be leaving again.

[hoosurdaddy]

A kiss is the price to pay.

Dark!eddie munson x f!reader.

Trigger warnings: power imbalance, objectification, non consensual tension, emotional manipulation. I warned you. Your own fault if you continue.

Note: I’m not taking requests. I am just bored and haven’t been on here since forever. Idk. However this was a request I got back in like 2022-2023 or something? So credit to you

The evening at the Hawkins Fall Fair was in full swing, the air buzzing with the usual sights and sounds: the dizzying flashes of carnival lights, the deep rumble of the Ferris wheel turning, and the mingling scent of popcorn and fried dough. You had been stationed at the cheerleader's kissing booth for hours now, tasked with giving out quick pecks to random guys in exchange for five bucks, all in the name of raising money for new uniforms.

It seemed harmless enough at first—just a bit of fun, right? But by now, your face hurt from plastering on a fake smile, and your patience was running thin with every guy who lingered a little too long, or tried to sneak an extra kiss when your back was turned.

You wished you were anywhere else. Anywhere but here, stuck behind this booth, giving out kisses like they were nothing. And then, as if to make things worse, he showed up.

Eddie Munson.

You saw him lurking near the back of the line, leaning against a game booth with that signature cocky grin on his face. The one that made everyone else keep their distance, like he was some sort of rabid animal. The "freak" of Hawkins High. You didn’t have to look at the other guys to know they noticed him too. There were a few snickers, a few murmurs, and a few boys visibly shifting uncomfortably in their spots.

Eddie wasn’t the kind of guy anyone in this crowd would expect to see standing in line for a kiss from the cheerleader. Hell, even you didn’t expect him to do it.

But of course, he did.

He sauntered up to the booth with his hands in his pockets, his wild hair falling over his eyes. The smile on his face was way too confident for someone who was supposed to be the school outcast.

“Five bucks, right?” Eddie said, his voice dripping with something between amusement and challenge. He pulled a crumpled five-dollar bill from his wallet and tossed it onto the table in front of you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, five bucks for a quick kiss."

Behind you, the line of guys waiting to get their turn shifted, their patience clearly wearing thin. They muttered under their breath, clearly annoyed that Eddie had cut to the front.

"You're really gonna kiss him?" one of them scoffed. "Why don’t you just go make out with the school mascot while you’re at it?”

You could feel their glares burning into your back. It wasn’t like you cared what they thought—you weren’t the one who’d thrown down money to kiss Eddie Munson. But you could tell it irritated them. And that made you uncomfortable.

Eddie leaned over the table, his grin widening as he met your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Too good to kiss me?” His voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it—something deeper beneath the surface.

You tried to shake it off. “If you’re not here for a kiss, Munson, you can just leave. I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

Eddie’s smirk didn’t fade, and he didn’t move away. Instead, he slid into the chair in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I’m definitely here for that kiss, babe,” he said, voice low and almost too intimate. “But I think you’re gonna give me a little more than what you’ve been giving the others.”

You narrowed your eyes, but Eddie’s gaze was already hard on you. "What do you mean, 'more'?" you asked, barely holding back your irritation.

He leaned closer, his breath warm on your cheek. “A kiss for a buck is too easy,” Eddie murmured. “I saved up all my money just for this moment. You’re gonna make it worth my while.” His eyes flickered to the guys behind you, and you could see the flicker of amusement on his face. “Or maybe you’re not into making it worth anything. If that’s the case, I guess I’ll just walk away.”

The sudden idea of letting him leave, of not having to deal with the awkwardness or his incessant teasing, made your heart race. You didn’t want to kiss him, not really. Not Eddie Munson. Not like this. But the idea of making the guys waiting behind you even more uncomfortable? That… didn’t sit well with you either.

Fighting back a sigh, you leaned forward and tried to make it quick—a peck, a kiss that would make him get his money's worth and move on. But as soon as your lips brushed his, Eddie’s hand shot out and caught the back of your neck, holding you there.

You tensed, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let you. The kiss deepened, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring it. His lips were soft, but his grip was firm, his other hand resting on the table as if to steady himself—or keep you in place.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you couldn’t do anything but brace yourself against the table, feeling his tongue slip into your mouth. A part of you wanted to scream and slap him away, but another part—the part you hated—felt a strange pull, a dangerous excitement in the way Eddie kissed you like he was trying to own you. His fingers moved to your jaw, tilting your head, forcing you to take more of him. You could feel the annoyance from the guys in line building behind you, the tension thick in the air, but Eddie didn’t care. He was lost in it, dragging the kiss out, his lips moving with a rawness that made your heart race in a way you hated.

Finally, Eddie pulled back, breathing hard, his grin wide and unapologetic. “There we go,” he said, voice smug. “That’s the kiss I paid for. Definitely worth the five bucks.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you quickly wiped your lips, disgusted with yourself for the way you’d allowed it to happen.

“Get lost, Munson,” you spat, the anger bubbling up now, but Eddie just laughed.

“Nah, I think you like it,” he said, voice dropping low again. “You enjoyed it more than you’ll admit. But it’s okay, sweetheart, I won’t tell anyone.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Eddie turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, heart still thudding in your chest, hands trembling.

You didn’t know what to feel. Part of you was furious, disgusted by the whole thing. The other part of you—the part you barely recognized—was shaken, hungry for something more than just a kiss. You wanted to yell, to scream at him, but instead, you felt yourself quietly watching him leave, feeling like there was more to come. You didn’t know what Eddie Munson wanted from you, but you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

A few hours later, as the fair started winding down, you began packing up the booth, ready to escape the night and get out of your own head.

But before you could even finish, you felt a cold hand on your wrist, pulling you back. Your heart lurched in your chest as you whipped around to see Eddie standing there again, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Did you think I was done?" he asked, his voice low, almost playful. “Not even close.”

Your pulse quickened, and for a moment, you froze. Something in his eyes had changed—darker, more dangerous.

“Eddie—what do you want now?” you snapped, pulling your wrist out of his grip, but he just stepped closer.

“I told you,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “you’re not getting away that easy. I don’t think you realize just how much you owe me now.” He let out a soft laugh, something unsettling in his eyes. "And trust me, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you pay up."

Your stomach twisted. You were no longer sure if you were angry or afraid. Maybe it was both. But one thing was certain: you hadn’t heard the last of Eddie Munson.

And that terrified you more than anything else.

[multifandom-nerds-blog]

Collection of Soren HCs/concepts/ideas mostly based on him having dark magic used on him in a, well, very permanent way (twice!). Cause I just feel like having dark magic inside of you like that must have some side effects.

I have more general HCs about Soren in another draft that I will post later.

He's constantly running cold. Like super cold, it wouldn't be healthy for anyone else but it's "just" a side effect from having dark magic inside him. This man is a block of ice. Most people don't notice though, even with how much physical affection he likes to show, because he walks around with full armor most of the time annyway, with only his head and fingers being uncovered. So no one really knows his body temperaturis so low. Especially since it doesn't physically affect him, it's just that it would definitely raise some questions if someone would take his temperature.

-> Claudia healing him from the full body paralysis made it more extreme. The low body temperature technically still doesn't affect him, but it definitely weirded him out (still does) when he noticed it after all the stress from the first arc wore off. He was used to it before, where he could still believably tell people he's just running cold, probably thought so himself, now his skin was really freezing cold. So he started wearing his fingerless gloves too so people don't freak out at his cold hands. (and pjs under his armor to maybe get the temperature up with some extra layers, because I'm looking at his new armor and he's wearing so many layers already wtf.)

-> The way he did notice was because someone did freak out. Ezran probably tried to drag him somewhere, not that he had to since Soren probably kept guard 24/7 of Ezran the first few weeks after the stormspire. (With the army and crownguard being still messed up and the whole political mess that first few few weeks must have been.) Anyhow, Ezran tried to drag Soren, probably to the kitchen, by taking his hands only to freak out by the icecubes his hands were. The next day Soren started wearing his gloves.

His sense of temperatures is also slightly messed up sometimes. Eats or drinks stuff often that is still way to hot and burns his mouth before noticing, while also taking the coldest showers known to mankind (he just says cold showers are healthy)

Unless he does his skin/hair routine obviously. He's high maintanence, cause lavender oils y'know.

It is extremly hard for him to get sick/catch a cold. This is a combination of having magical lungs basically/probably having had any possible bad sickness as a child you can get (me lmao)/and his general healthy lifestyle. When he does catch something it's mostly just like an annoying allergy. Or a stomach bug, cause those are nasty and get to everyone.

You can actually see traces of the dark magic on his body. On his chest and along his spine on the back, in the way of purple lines, patterns maybe. But their not always visible on first glance. It kinda depends on his physical and mental state on how visible they get. Aside from him only Viren and Claudia know about those, since he never really had a reason to go to people and be like "Hey guys I've got purple traces of dark magic on my body". (Cough Corvus lerans about it at some point cough)

Soren is obviously a bit self conscious about this, since he never really liked dark magic to begin with. But those feelings became worse after the stormspire battle and everything, with Claudia then suddenly gone too.

He usually avoids doctors too, which he doesn't need most of the time luckily, but everyone in Katolis army needs to get a mandatory checkup every 6 months. (Set in place by Sarai at one point) He has very allaborate schemes to get out of those, and succeded every single time so far. Being the head of the crownguard probably helps with it.

Also, sometimes his sense of touch in his lower body is a bit toned down (? I don't know the right word, in either language anymore). Though this is mostly a psychosomatic. Healed with magic or not, such an injury leaves it's marks. (Me? Giving my favs some of my chronical pain to cope? Never.)

He probably smells weird to dragons or other magical creatures with a high sense of smell. Not reeking like a dark mage, but it's physically still in him so it's definitely noticable. Some non-sapient wild magical creatures might avoid him because of it.

-> Zubeia especially noticed this after the timeskip, because they didn't exactly interact 1 to 1 before in S3, but kept it to herself. She likes Soren and clocked that he already has enough issues. She isn't gonna give him one more thing to be self conscious about. To Zym it's just kinda how Soren smells. Pyrrah still finds it a bit uncomfortable at times, but learned to ignore it.

Some more general Soren HCs/ideas are on their way.

Look at this doofus.

[viaviavie]

Alright. I feel bad for dropping that angst in you inbox. Hope this makes up for it somewhat.

The Prefect and Ace have been acting weird lately. They‘ve been lost in thought and constantly fighting their own attention span. During lunch for example, Yuu didn’t notice Grim chomping down a majority of their food, and Ace didn’t even try to pick a fight with a classmates that bumped into their table.

It comes to the point where the other freshman pick up on their weird behavior and formulate a plan to get the two out of their slump.

Only once the Prefect and Ace split off from the group, to do who knows what, (Grim is of the convinced that they are Dating. The others have their doubts. („Truly? I can understand from where you come from but the probability of Ace confessing his feelings is nigh impossible“ „He‘d rather be collared than to admit he cares.“ „But why else would they constantly sneak off just the two of them?“)), does the rest start their master plan.

Grim and Deuce are tasked with keeping watch of the lovebirds Duo. They‘re supposed to alert the others if it looks like they are returning to Ramshackle and if possible get them others more time to prepare.

Jack was responsible for getting snacks and drinks organized. (Epel contributed some of his familys apple juice)

Ortho was tasked with organizing entertainment. With his vast knowledge of movies, games and stories this assignment was a no brainer.

Epel and Sebek took it upon themselves to rearrange the entire lobby of Ramshackle so that all of them could comfortably hang out.

By the time Ace, Deuce, Grim and Yuu returned to Ramshackle they were met with a Lobby that looked nothing like it did that same morning.

All of the furniture was moved to the walls to create space in the center of the room where a bunch of mattresses were laid out on the floor. A bit to the side you could see Ortho setting up a projector to watch movie with or Sebek throwing a whole armload of pillows and Duvets from the different dorms onto the mattress floor.

„What’s all of this for?“ asked the prefect seemingly only now regaining conscious thought. „What does it look like? It’s a surprise party. I couldn’t possibly let my Henchman and their friend be mopey all the time. That wouldn’t reflect well on my ability as a great mage.“

„That’s all well and good but curfew is soon and I at least don’t have permission from mister ‘be in bed on time or paint the roses‘ so all of this was kind of useless.“ Ace adds, very useful as per usual.

„You may not have gotten permission yourself, but we got that covered have some faith. Some more easily than others. Leopna just waved Jack off and told him to not get himself killed, Idia simply wished Ortho luck and Lillia basically threw Sebek at us once he got wind of what we were planning.“ Epel explained.

Before Ace or Yuu were able to fully process what was going on, Deuce threw his arms over their shoulders and dragged them onto the mattress fort.

As the rest settled around them and started bickering about what kind of movie they were going to watch, did the Duo start to loosen up a little. Suddenly many of their worries about how they were going to deal with the problems the future would bring were melting away, surrounded by the warmth of their friends.

in reference to this fic

WE LOVE FIRST YEAR BONDING IN THIS HOUSEHOLD !!!

I swear, Grim knows that you held some form of affection for Ace. Ever since Grim noticed that you tend to stare at Ace a little bit longer than anyone else, take care of him more, got that little longing look in your eyes— It's so damn obvious you see Ace as something more than a friend, but Grim doesn't think you will ever confess.

Ace, on the other hand, Grim gets super super annoyed with how protective Ace gets. Wherever Prefect goes, Ace seems to follow ever since the end of Book 4. And since when does Ace share a bed with Prefect?! Grim has complained about this to Deuce so many times, but the poor boy is just as oblivious and thinks its all platonic.

Imagine that this little surprise happens before Book 7, maybe? Ace and Prefect are dreading what's to come, and maybe Prefect is lacking some confidence in surviving this loop. Prefect must've died in the same spot during the overblot, and can't figure out the answer to a dream. Ace's probably losing his mind because he knows he can't do a thing to help Prefect during the overblot.

Maybe when Book 7 is resolved, I may consider the idea of the duo telling the truth for the final loop. Perhaps this get-together happens, but this time, Ace and the Prefect got their heads together and decided that maybe this time, nothing is going to go wrong. They need everyone's help, and perhaps that was the answer this entire time (the power of friendship!)

Sebek is initially taken aback and distraught by the idea of Malleus overblotting, but when he takes the time to reflect on how genuinely tired the Prefect looks, he steels himself to prepare for the worst. When it slips that the Prefect has been dying constantly in the dream realm, however, Sebek does feel a lot of responsibility to keep Prefect safe this time.

Epel considers telling Vil, but he doesn't for your sake. You do not know how much the timeline will change if anyone else finds out about this, and Epel doesn't want to betray that trust. He worries a lot for you though, especially after everything you did to help him in Book 5.

Ortho— I lowkey want to integrate him into the time loop theory. I wanna say that Ortho has felt some time-distortion every reset. He senses that something's wrong every time, but can never pinpoint why. Once the truth comes out, everything finally makes sense. He would tell the duo to place some trust in him to ensure that this loop will lead to a good ending.

Goodness, Deuce is the most relieved. He finally gets some answers and it does make him tear up, thinking about how much pain they both went through, but also that he is trusted enough to cooperate with the plan. He doesn't hold anything against them for keeping it to themselves, and is just there to remind them that they can depend on him.

But ugh, imagine Ace and the Prefect so afraid yet so hopeful for what was to come this time. Perhaps this is the first timeline they have all actively worked together for a good ending. Even if it doesn't turn out correct, at least one of them can carry on with the memory knowing that the first years will always have their back.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Honored | Gaz x Reader

Summary: Gaz learns quickly that you, a new member of their team, don’t take well to his sarcasm, and he has a devastating run-in with ‘attitude readjustment’.

Word Count: ~ 4k

Warnings: this one is nasty yall. pegging, dubcon/noncon, sort of hate-sex, handjob, rough sex, mirror sex, crying, overstimulation, bottom!gaz, mention of gay sex, fingering, binding…prob more that I’m forgettting

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: hi guys I’m back😼, here’s maybe the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written in my life as a gift for 1k followers (love y’all so much), hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Gaz had always naturally been a bit more sassy.

It was common knowledge. Everyone on the team had their way of coping with extreme stress and the environments they were in. Ghost would complain off comms, Soap would huff and puff like an annoyed toddler, and Price would grow impatient and lose his temper on occasion.

Kyle coped through his sarcasm, the little hint of a bite to his words that he often didn’t even mean, it just slipping out like second nature. Everyone else had grown used to it, ignoring it or giving their sass right back, no matter how annoying it was, they understood.

He never got any discipline for this, it being brushed under the rug like any other thing the 141 did.

Until you came along.

A replacement for Soap after he was shot in the head by Makarov, fatally wounded and hardly surviving. It would be a miracle if he ever got back into the service, with it possibly causing personality disorders, physical disorders, and much more. Hell, the poor man was already in physical therapy and still stuck in a hospital 24/7 while on constant watch.

You weren’t bad, you knew what you were doing, and you got the job done. You did what you were told. But it just wasn’t the same.

You always seemed like you had something to prove, someone to spite, even when it wasn’t the goal of the mission. Gaz noticed in the way you practiced with your weapons more, worked out more, and worked yourself to the bone to achieve perfection. Or in the way you didn’t take anything from anyone. Price’s little jabs, Ghost’s sardonic words, his sarcasm, you snapped right back tenfold.

The entire team dynamic felt off without Soap there. Price seemed a bit more hesitant in his decisions now as if the error he’d made with Johnny weighed on his mind. Ghost was noticeably more broody and isolating himself. Even Gaz felt uncomfortable without his fellow Sergeant there.

He hated to admit that maybe he’d been poking at you for his own amusement and coping, finding your insults and temper entertaining, a good distraction when he was stressed or couldn’t make his head quiet. He knew you’d been getting annoyed with him. It all came to a climax one day.

It had been the end of a mission, one of the simpler ones, more with the general idea of ‘get rid of the bad guys’, taking terrorists out. You’d accidentally gotten nicked in the arm, a cut that wasn’t too deep, but deep enough to bleed like a bitch and be an annoyance on the entire heli ride back to base.

You’d wrapped it, doing the bare minimum to make sure you didn’t bleed out or lose any more blood than you had to.

The ride back had been silent, the usual, except for Price occasionally chatting with Nikolai, and the heavy beats of the helicopter as it whipped through the air. When it had finally touched down, you’d sighed, moving to hop off when Gaz had gotten in front of you, looking annoyed as he gave you a look.

You’d returned the look, hopping off behind him as you’d headed towards the base to get your arm properly bandaged, both of you entering at the same time and walking down a hallway.

Ghost had stuck behind to talk with Price, probably. Or he was just sick of listening to you and Gaz fight like cats every two seconds.

Either way, you found yourself going the same way as the Sergeant, despite going to medical. You’d silently glanced at him, before speaking up.

“Where are you going?”

The words were flat and stale with a hint of mild judgment in them. He’d glanced back at you.

“To visit Soap. Not watch you get your cat scratch bandaged.”

His reasoning made sense. Soap was still in medical.

But the pure tone of sarcasm and the nasty look he’d given you, his nose scrunching up and lip curling slightly, made her temper nearly explode. Especially after the annoying mission that really could’ve been done by someone else, they’d just gone through. You weren’t having it.

Your eye nearly twitched as you grabbed him by the back of the collar, yanking back and watching as he choked on air, a look of surprise crossing his face, and then disbelief as his eyes widened. You dragged him back to your room, the soldiers walking by not seeming to care much, just a few snickers out of recruits and some mildly curious looks by other Sergeants.

“What are you-“

He choked out, hands going to push you off and failing as you reached your room door, opening it, tossing him inside, and locking it behind you. He tripped over his own foot, thudding to the floor and hitting his ass on the concrete.

You walked closer until you were right in front of him.

“I don’t know what your problem is, Garrick, but you clearly haven’t been put in your place enough.”

You almost snarled, and he made that annoying little face once again, acting as if he was completely innocent.

“Right, like you’re not worse, always acting like you’re better than us.”

He spat back, going to get on his feet until you pushed him right back down onto the floor, crouching down to get on his level and grabbing his collar again, pulling forward until his face was right near yours. You could feel his hot breath against his neck, a little scent of lavender from maybe a hair product, some gel too.

“You want me to show you how much better I am than you?”

You asked, the words quiet, holding an underlying threat as you looked him right in the eye. He swallowed, and you could see his brace facade flickering for a moment before he decided to double down.

“I’d be honored.”

He said, the words coated in a mocking interpretation of flattery. The smirk he wore was wiped off of his face quickly when he was pulled up onto the thin military-issue bed in your room, and shoved down onto the flimsy mattress, your hands going to secure a rope around his hands.

“Hold on, wait-“

He tried squirming, everything he’d learned in basic training about hand-to-hand combat coming back, but not soon enough as he was tied up embarrassingly easily. His panic rose as he watched you tug at the straps of his tactical gear, vest coming off as well as any of the extra material strapped to his thighs.

“No, you said you’d be honored, right?”

The little sinister smirk you wore told him enough as he tried squirming, only for you to hold him down, climbing on the bed and using your body weight to keep him down while you got to work on getting his shirt off, growing impatient and eventually just ripping the material.

“I didn’t,—didn’t mean it, not like…”

It was entertaining how his resistance almost immediately died down when you tugged his pants off, leaving his boxers on just for him to have a bit of his dignity still intact. He tried kicking, catching you on the jaw, and feeling a hint of satisfaction when he saw your face wrinkle in pain before you gave him a look.

“I can play like that, too, Garrick.”

You said as you pulled out some more rope from underneath the bed, harshly tugging his boxers off and watching as he gritted his teeth from the rough sensation, his cock immediately jolting up and slapping his toned stomach.

Despite his protests, he was rock hard, his happy trail neatly groomed, tip flushed a pretty pink that was bordering on red. A bead of pre-cum was gathered at the tip. He seemed to desperately want to curl in on himself and hide as you let your hand trail up, wrapping around his dick as it throbbed, twitching.

He took a sharp inhale as you let out a huff of amusement.

“Almost prettier than the rest of you.”

You muttered in amusement, the words not going over his head.

You finally released him, only for the rope to be put into use as you grabbed his ankles, moving them to either side of the bed posts and tying them firmly, forcing his legs to be spread. There was a red-hot blush on his cheeks as he tried to move and loosen it a bit, trying to get over his embarrassment, and in an attempt to regain his earlier confidence, he spoke.

“What’re you gonna do, huh? Suck me off?”

He asked, his tone a hint breathless, less strong than before. A bit of doubt had crept in. You chuckled, pulling a worn cardboard box out from under the bed and opening it, rummaging for a moment, before pulling something out and displaying it proudly to him.

A strap-on.

He stiffened, eyes going wider.

“Heyheyhey, wait,”

He began, and you cut him off as you began fiddling with the various hooks and straps, fastening it comfortably on yourself after removing your pants and shirt. You held a finger up, effectively silencing him, as he didn’t want to know the consequences.

“You know you like it. I’ve seen what you and your Captain get up to in his office.”

He didn’t think it was possible to be any more embarrassed at the moment at the amused, knowing tone you had, almost smug at the knowledge of his and Price’s office activities when they’d thought no one else was watching or listening.

His throat went dry as you pulled lube out from the box, squirting some out onto your hand and rubbing it languidly against the dildo of the strap-on. It was thick, and maybe a good 4-5 inches long. Price was bigger, but it wasn’t the size he was worried about.

He swallowed thickly when you crawled up on the bed, his breathing suddenly a bit more ragged. He hated the way his cock twitched when you got closer, how it throbbed when he saw you squirt a bit more lube on your hand, this time not for yourself.

“Lean forward for me.”

Your voice was almost velvety, a bit nicer than its usual pissy tone. He submitted to your order, leaning his body forward just a bit, enough for you to access what he knew you needed to.

You smirked as he didn’t protest or try and argue against it, and you rubbed the lube onto your thumb, hand sneaking up until finding his puckered hole and rubbing around it first, to get him ready. You only let it slip in when he relaxed the smallest amount, surprised at how pliant and loose he was.

“Price has really been putting you to work, huh?”

You asked in an amused tone, and he only squirmed a little bit, his back arching as if muscle memory in reaction to the Captain's name alone.

“Yeah,”

His quiet little reply was what almost caught you off guard. You’d simply expected him to give you the silent treatment the entire time. As a subtle reward, you slipped another finger in, moving them in and out to prepare him. His hips slipped a bit further back as if trying to push further, and you let out a little hum of encouragement.

Your other hand slowly explored the rest of his body, running across his muscles abdomen, sliding up to his pecs and giving the warm muscle teasing squeezes, fingers pinching his sensitive nipples and tugging a bit just to feel him jolt. Your hand traveled further down until it was met with his happy trail.

His breath hitched as you grew closer and closer to his dripping cock, hips nearly bucking forwards in desperation. You could’ve sworn he let out a disappointed whine when you went past his cock and instead cradled his heavy balls, gently caressing and squeezing until relenting and moving back up, your calloused hands brushing the base of his cock

He let out a shaky breath, and you struggled not to tease him more.

Your fingers slowly enclosed on his cock, giving squeezes and little strokes as you felt him throb in your hands, the one large vein running alongside it pumping furiously as the drip drooled with pre-cum.

“Oh, god.”

You heard him mutter under his breath, the helplessness in his tone satisfying you, but not enough to make you stop. You began with slow strokes, adding in a few little squeezes and twists, watching as he started desperately bucking his hips in an attempt for more. His breathing became quick and sharp, and you could tell by the way the muscles in his thighs were spasming that he was growing closer to his climax.

“Yes, yes, please—“

He begged mindlessly, eyes clenching shut as his brows furrowed, closer and closer to falling right off of the edge, when suddenly,

You stopped.

Fingers slipped out of him, hand came off of him. Every bit of stimulation he’d had was gone. He let out a frustrated huff, looking over to try and figure out why you’d done that, only to see you getting up and moving over to the wall opposite of him on the bed. His brows furrowed, but this time in annoyance and confusion.

“What was that? What’re you doing?”

He asked, the subtle sass in his tone only digging his grave further as some of that earlier idiotic confidence must’ve returned. His body shook, though, and every physical factor pointed to the fact that he wasn’t as put together as he was trying to look.

“Well, I told you that you needed to be put in your place, didn’t I?”

You asked, moving to get something behind some piece of furniture in the room, a closet, the strap-on still hanging onto you, glistening with lube. You pulled something gray out from behind the closet, and he didn’t understand until you turned it around, and he saw a crystal clear reflection of himself, tied up on the bed, in the mirror now facing him.

“I think this’ll whip you right back into shape.”

You said with that little smirk he knew was trouble, watching as he began to squirm, seeming uncomfortable with himself in the mirror. He could deal with the shame and embarrassment of being in this position, but having to look at himself while being fucked? Even Price hadn’t done that to him.

“You’re going to….in the mirror?”

There was a clear gap in the sentence, the part he didn’t want to state through his confusion and shock. But you only smirked wider, walking over to that bed again, and settling behind him. This time he could see that cocky smirk you wore as your head was just above his shoulder, how your hands wrapped around his torso, lifting a little bit.

He watched as the dildo of the strap rubbed between the cheeks of his ass, felt it as the thick mushroomed tip caught on his hole, before you found the right angle, and slowly pushed in.

Any resistance melted away as a shuddering breath left him, eyes fluttering shut when he unconsciously clenched down on the intrusion in his ass, despite the familiar sensation it provided. He felt your hand wandering over his torso again, the other remaining on his hip to steady him as one wrapped around his pulsing cock again and began stroking. Slow, teasing strokes as your thumb wiped over the flushed head of his cock, swiping the pre-cum away, and bringing that hand back up to his mouth.

When your finger tapped against his lip, he opened, and could taste the salty, thick liquid as it hit his tongue, and he swallowed.

“Good boy,”

You murmured, and a full-body shudder overcame him at that. One of your hands wandered up to his face, cupping his cheek as you spoke with a new command.

“Open your eyes, pretty boy. I want you to watch me ruin you.”

He had no choice but to open his eyes, seeing the absolute debauched look in his eyes, his cock jerking at the sight in the mirror. Your hips were slowly moving behind him, working the thick dildo into his hole as his hips gently rocked backward on it, lips parting as breathy gasps came out of him.

“Right—right there,”

He begged as the dildo grazed his prostrate, entire body jerking in response to the intense stimuli. His entire mouth fell open, back arching as he felt you slowly find that spot and grind against it. Your hand returned to his dick, lazily stroking and rubbing it while he tried not to cum.

It was as overstimulating as it was pleasuring. He bit his lip trying not to moan, ultimately failing when you must’ve noticed, and jerked your hips forward right into that sweet spot, and he let out a slutty moan as he began carelessly grinding back against you. His eyes stayed on the mirror, watching, seeming fascinated with how you were taking him apart one piece at a time. When he jerked himself back against you, shoving the dildo further up than before, he could’ve sworn there was a little bulge in his stomach.

He watched as your eyes caught it in the mirror, brows raising as you lazily grinned, your hand reaching around.

“Would you look at that,”

You said in a satisfied tone as you buried yourself deep once again, fingers going to rub against the stomach bulge. A whimper slipped out from his lips as he began grinding just a bit harder, more desperate as his legs tightened despite the ropes holding them far apart.

“I’m gonna come, please, I need to—“

He rasped, looking at the satisfied gleam in your eye as you began stroking his cock again, faster this time, harsher, your pace also speeding up as you thrust up into him faster than before. He let out a broken moan as his cock twitched, and with a final spasm, he came, spurting thick, white ropes forward onto the mirror, coating the bottom part of it.

He trembled in your grasp, shuddering from his orgasm as you didn’t slow down or stop, now squirming even more.

“Too much,”

He said, tears welling in his eyes from either pleasure, overstimulation, or both as you only laid your head on his shoulder, eagerly watching his reaction in the mirror.

“You can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more?”

You asked in that velvety tone, watching as he tried to think, the one functioning brain cell that was left in him dying as soon as you gave a particularly hard thrust up, and his eyes rolled back, hips jolting back and forth once again.

“Yeah, jus’…jus’ one more..”

He mumbled, breath growing harsher as his sensitivity meant he was already starting to crumble again, falling apart at the seams. He squirmed more than the first time, full tears welling in his eyes and falling as he was so close, but just not close enough.

You looked at him in the mirror, eyes red-rimmed, sniffly, long lashes in clumps as he met your eyes in the mirror with a look of pure helplessness and pleading.

“You wanna come? Does my Sergeant wanna come again?”

You asked, almost cooed to him, watching as he desperately nodded.

“Yes, please, please, I’ve been good…”

He hiccuped, a myriad of noises spilling from his mouth, the most common being his unbridled moans and surprisingly high-pitched sounds, as you gripped his dick firmer than before, pumping furiously and slamming your hips against his until he finally came.

His entire body tensed, then spasmed a bit, and then went completely limp and boneless as his mouth was left hanging fully open as uncontrollable noises spilled out like water. His balls tightened, drawing up, and he let out an equally obscene amount of come this time as well, though not as thick as the first round’s.

Your hands went to gently untie his wrists, then you slipped the strap slowly out of him, unbuckling it and setting it down on the bed as you moved to untie his ankles from the bed posts.

In the time that it took him to come back down to reality, you used some wet wipes to clean off your strap and put it back in the box with the rope and lube, and then cleaned off your mirror and put it back into its place behind the closet. By the time all was said and done, an exhausted groan came from Kyle, still lying spread out like a starfish on your bed.

He looked like he’d just gone through five missions back to back with no sleep, but he also had a bit of an afterglow, you’d admit.

“Status report?”

You asked with a raised brow, pulling your pants and shirt back on, as well as your boots, and collecting his clothes and tactical gear to nearly fold and put on the bed for him.

“Solid copy.”

You chuckled at how he groaned again when trying to sit up, and found that his legs and ass were pounded in, and he ended up having to lean against the headboard. He rubbed his head, blinking slowly as if exiting a haze.

“Bloody hell, didn’t know you had that in you.”

He murmured, watching as you collected his things and set them aside for him. He grabbed his boxers, carefully pulling them up his legs and adjusting them around his softening cock. He next yanked his shirt over his head and pulled it on.

His pants were a different ordeal, though.

He was too sore to fully lift himself to pull them on. You watched, and finally with a snort of amusement, pulled him up out of the bed and into a standing position, with an arm around your shoulder, and helped him into them. He seemed a bit flustered but didn’t comment as you then helped him get all his tactical gear back on, and you didn’t comment as he helped tame your hair back into a suitable manner.

When it wasn’t so obvious what both of you had done, and you both seemed relatively back to normal, you both just stood and looked at each other for a moment.

“This doesn’t change anything between us, just so you know.”

Gaz said, folding his arms. You raised both brows, not being surprised at his statement.

“I would hope it doesn’t. You’ll be seeing Attitude Readjustment plenty more, Gaz.”

It was his turn to raise his brows now.

“Attitude Readjustment?”

You smiled.

“I name my strap-ons.”

It implied that you had multiple, and the look of fear that crossed his eyes for a moment was more than worth it as you grinned, giving him a clap on the back until you went to walk out.

“I’m gonna go get this checked out at medical. See you around, Garrick.”

He’d almost forgotten about the hastily patched-up cut on your arm from the mission. He knew he should’ve been more responsible, stopped you, told you to go to medical first and get it seen then…whatever had just happened, but he couldn’t find it within himself to regret it.

With a sigh and an adjustment of his pants, he walked out of the room, too, going a separate way. He could visit Soap later once you weren’t in medical.

“Yeah. See you around.”

He muttered.

[stir-knee-oh-low]

cold yet? || matt sturniolo

matt and izaria weren't exactly friends, but they'd had their fair share of moments. it was never about love— something they convinced themselves of.

to them, it was all a game of back and forth sarcastic comments with teasing smirks and empty flirting. they lived for the chase. to anyone else, it was easy to assume they loved each other’s company, but to them it was just “fun.”

they went to a party together, but as the night went on, the temperature dropped. it was matt who subtly showed he'd been paying attention. he didn't ask if she was cold; instead, he broke her to finally admit it and then just so "happened" to have one in the back seat, pretending like he hadn't thought ahead. it was a small gesture, but the meaning behind it was clear: he cared more than he'd ever let her know.

content: fluff, banter, and flirting, flirty!matt x stubborn!reader

“so… you comin with?” his blue eyes, lazy yet expectant, staring back through the screen. there was no urgency, no rush— the dim glow of his tv casting different shadows on his face highlighting his cocky tilted smile, like he already knew the answer.

lounging on her bed, with her own tv on playing different voice in the back she replied “please... you'd be bored without me” matching his tone, knowing full well he liked having her around, more than he'd like to admit.

“yeah ok” he rolled his eyes, already hearing the sarcastic remark in her voice before she even said anything. almost as to say don’t get too confident now. “just don’t forget your jacket. might get cold later” but she might’ve scoffed a bit too loud because who was he to tell her what to do, she thought. except beneath her actions, a small part of her wondered did he actually notice more about her than she realized? "i'm sure i'll be fine" iz responded, regardless of those small feelings, still being a little too confident. "whatever... i'll text you when I'm coming to pick you up later" "alright" the call ended, leaving her alone to figure out what outfit would get under matt’s skin the most

matt was in iz's driveway waiting and as izaria walked closer to the door and opening it he couldn't help but glance briefly at her outfit as she climbed in on the passenger's side. a mini skirt and small top that basically covered nothing. "c'mon iz... you really didn't bring a jacket?" he genuinely wanted her to bring a jacket but he knew her all too well. her stubbornness was granted and he knew she’d pull something like this. holding back from smirking, he knew it’d only make the night more amusing " 'm not taking advice from the guy that wears the same outfit every time we go out" she bites back with a smirk. all matt does was shrug, keeping his eyes on the road and grinning before slyly replying "not my fault I look good in it, right?" shooting her a sideways smile, she rolled her eyes in pure disbelief "whatever" iz was annoyed at how it seemed like he always got the last word. and she hated how effortlessly he could flash his smug grin, knowing she'd never call him out on how much it got to her. but even then, he never heard her deny it.

as the night went on, the air got colder and began biting at iz’s skin, sending sharp chills down her spine. and as much as she hated to admit it her thin strapy top and a skirt that hung only a few inches beneath her waist was a cute outfit but a bold, yet stupid move nonetheless.

now that she was actually outside with the cold air mockingly brushing her skin, it was beginning to seem like an obviously bad choice as it wasn't exactly helping her prove her point. stubborn as ever, she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to act like the cold didn’t bother her.

however matt noticed. of course he did. she could feel his eyes on her from across the yard, even while he laughed at something one of his friends said. he didn’t approach her immediately, though—he waited, letting her sit with her pride for a little too long before noticing her give in, sliding the back door open and sneaking inside the house.

“cold yet?” matt’s teasing voice caught her off guard as she didn’t realize he had followed behind her. leaning against the counter, water bottle in hand, smirking like he’d been waiting for this moment.

iz turned to face him, “i’m fine,” she said oddly calm, though her shivering betrayed her.

“sure you are” he knowingly responded, taking a sip of water “the whole freezing-to-death thing kinda suits you though.” she glared at him, hugging her arms tighter. “i’m not freezing. I’m just—”

“cold?” he interrupted, his smug grin widening.

iz sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “your impossible to be around , you know that?”

“and yet, here you are.” iz narrowed her eyes at him, refusing to let the smirk on his face get under her skin. before she could come up with a sharp comeback, matt pushed off the counter, his tone shifting slightly.

“come on,” he said, nodding toward the door. “let’s get out of here before it gets even colder. i’m tired anyway.”

her first instinct was to refuse, to stay and prove that she didn’t need him to rescue her. she opened her mouth to argue, but somehow could think of anything to say. almost like she was somewhat out of comebacks

“fine,” she muttered, trying to make it sound like she was doing him a favor. “fine,” matt copied her with a grin, already heading toward the backyard.

they said quick goodbyes to their friends, gathering their stuff before stepping into the chilly night. as they walked through the different cars in the driveway to matt’s car.

“oh,” matt said casually as he unlocked the doors, “i think i might’ve left a jacket in the backseat the other day. you can grab it while the car heats up.”

iz paused, one hand hovering near the door handle. something about the way he said it felt off—not in a bad way, just... calculated. she opened the door and spotted the jacket right away, neatly folded like it had been waiting for her.

matt watched her pull it out. he had planned this. of course he had. he’d thrown the jacket into the car earlier, convincing himself it was no big deal. just in case. no harm in being prepared, right? but now, seeing her hold it, slip it on, he wondered if it was too obvious.

“really?” she asked, turning toward him, her voice skeptical as she slid her arms through the sleeves. “so this just happens to be here?”

it was easier to fall into old habits, to tease and deflect, than admit he’d thought about her—about her being cold, about her maybe needing him. “what, you think i brought it here just for you?”

her brow arched, the fabric of the jacket soft and oversized on her. “i don’t know, matt. you don’t exactly strike me as the ‘just in case’ type.” matt’s chest tightened for a second. he could tell she was trying to figure him out, and the thought made him nervous in a way he didn’t like to admit.

“just feels convenient,” she muttered, though the bite in her tone had softened.

“or,” matt said, stepping closer and lowering his voice just enough to make her heart skip a beat, “maybe you’re just reading too much into it.” matt had no idea why he was nervous—this was iz. teasing her was second nature, messing with her was even easier. but this wasn’t that. not anymore. being so close to her it made the atmosphere feel off balance.

the way he looked at her then—like he was daring her to call him out, like he knew she wouldn’t—made her stomach flip. she wanted to laugh it off, to roll her eyes and call him insufferable again, but the words wouldn’t come. instead, she held his gaze a second too long, long enough for the air between them to shift.

she simply looked up at him, innocent and confused, and for a second, matt forgot how to breathe.

iz felt it too. the weight of the silence between them, the way her heart pounded in her chest, the way the cold no longer mattered. she hated this—realizing he could easily make her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

matt pulled back, his smirk returning, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “come on. get in the car,” he said, his voice quieter now. “before you overthink it.” yeah— would want that now would we? she thought. she climbed into his car unable to shake off the tension that she just experienced.

val’s notes 💌

pt 2?? guys plss😭 i literally said i was gonna post this weeks ago and then i got caught up with school. good thing is that i have exams next week and then im free to hopefully post more!! but pls lmk if this was good. ill post pt 2 soon (actually this time. at most in 2 weeks😭) sorry!! but anyways hope yall liked this one!!

OMGG ALSOO the first person on my taglist!! ⬇️

TAGLIST: @bibbleisking

def let me know ig you want to be apart of the taglist by commenting or sending me an inbox!! and if you want to be taken off also let me know through inbox or comments!!🩷🫶

[cursed2becringe]

OMG FINALLY SOMEONE ELSE NOTICED THIS 'CUZ I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOREVER!!

Also, an opportunity to rant about my headcannons? Don't mind if I do

At first Shad didn't see Gene as much other than a particularly useful (obedient, powerful and not a zombie) shadow knight. He certainly valued him a bit more than others due to his magic. But there is something about Gene that rather confused him in a way; his unquestioning loyalty.

He was incredibly easy to convince to serve the Shadow lord, quick to accept most of his new life. Shad didn't understand why exactly, most sentient knights took much work before they would eagerly join him. But Gene seemed to have a strange liking for his new lord. Perhaps the better word would be obsession, or even infatuation. This came plenty from Gene's way of coping with becoming a shadow knight. He very early on convinced himself that serving the Shadow lord would be the better thing to do than fighting or running away, which over time morphed into viewing him as an ideal of a sort, the perfect and righteous lord of the Nether. Torture on it's own was a pretty good motivator, but it also had much to do with the fact that Gene didn't have anything to fight for. His family and village saw him as a disgrace, he had no hope of returning home, and he didn't know anyone else that would take him in if he managed to escape. So as a mixture of hopelessness, compliance in result of torture and unexplored issues with being delusional he did a full 180, idealizing the Shadow lord and his purpose as a shadow knight to an extreme degree to escape both his own internal and outward physical torture.

Gene in particular being so compliant had many perks for Shad as well of course.

For many years Shad had had to deal with converting still sentient shadow knights on his own. Torture by itself often simply rules out cowards, ones that you know would run away first chance they get anyway, it takes more than that to convince someone mentally and physically stronger and therefore more useful. He could do so by a long process of brainwashing or by magically messing with their heads. Memory magic is hard, and, especially in his weakened form, Shad would waste plenty of his power on creating proper soldiers. Still, many shadow knights managed to break through his attempts and form revolts. They were all extinguished as they came but they came with casualties. That was the case until Gene showed up.

The Shadow lord discovered his abillity to alter memories. He not only had enough power to do memory magics, but he specialized in it as it was one of the only types of magic he could do. Sure he broke after merely a few days in the torture dungeon, but Shad figured he was useful enough to still keep around. He officially knighted him and immideatly utilized his power in converting other knights, new and old, and it worked wonderously. He grew a much larger, more capable and more loyal army. He kept Gene very close as to not let him do something foolish as attempting to run away. Using his magic this often drained Gene plenty, so in order to keep him running Shad would offer him special treatment like better food and plenty of time to rest. It took some time until Shad allowed Gene to leave the Nether in search of immortality in fear of losing such a useful asset. But he returned and owned himself some praise and trust from his lord. He keot rising the ranks and quickly became one of Shad's best knights.

Gene, in his mad delusion, viewed these benefits purely as displays of affection, solidifying his own beliefs in the Shadow lord's goodness and fondness of Gene, despite Shad's cruel and merciless punishments for his mistakes.

Then finally, after so many years of trial and error, Shad had a physical form again. It took many of his loyal soldiers to be able to get to this point, but none of them were as loyal as Gene, and none without brainwashing required. It made Shad, in a weird way, appreciate Gene just a little.

It was certainly difficult for Shad to adjust to having a body again after being an apparition for millenia. He had to get used to eating, sleeping and dealing with the sensation of touch. Shadow knights are incredibly durable, but they still have to feel the exhausting heat of the realm and the weight of their armour etc. Out of fear of being seen as weak he never voiced these struggles, he was the almighty Shadow lord after all. But occasionally he'd slip a little complaint to Gene. He was seemingly very understanding and caring about these little woes that he had long gotten used to, and it made the other appreciate him just a little more.

So Gene's batshit crazy fantasy of getting the lord of Hell itself to like him actually came true in a way. They definitely are not in a relationship, and even if they were there would still be a massive power dynamic and Shad still tortures Gene mercilessly for his screw ups. But, in his own way, he sort of likes him. Not to mention Gene is conventionally attractive and Shad can now get a boner. I definitely think they have something between them.

Shad and Gene had something going on in mcd s3 no one can convince me otherwisee the tension was there!

[the-implications]

i feel like SUCH an idiot how did i JUST realize the meaning of this lyric from feast or famine??

"It puts the toy into the plastic

It bags it up with gift receipt

I'll never, ever dare return it

But you bet the price I pay will be discreet"

its literally just saying that they want a gift receipt not in case of a return, but because gift receipts don't display the PRICE...

[asurrogateblog]

The Syd Poll

the topic of this poll is one that is frequently avoided in the pink floyd fandom, but inevitably one we all consider – our individual views on what we think caused syd's psychological struggles (and by extension, led to his departure from the band). I think that – at least in this neighborhood of tumblr – this is a conversation we are capable of having in a way that is civil, nuanced, and at least minimally disrespectful to syd.

So, to help facilitate this, here are some ground rules:

let's all assume we have a mutual understanding of the complexities of this. syd could never actually be reduced down to a poll, and all of our viewpoints are limited in various ways

the poll options just serve as just a conversation starter, and responses are not necessarily a statement of absolute beliefs

feel free to discuss as much or as little of your own perspective as you feel comfortable sharing.

in the case that debates break out, please try to assume good intent – and also demonstrate it (unless, for instance, someone is being blatantly insulting beyond a misunderstanding that needs correcting)

please do NOT vote if you are not actually a pink floyd fan with at least basic knowledge about what we're talking about here.

The options I've included below are not meant to be exhaustive, they are simply the "theories" that I have seen most commonly circulated. I have also decided not to include combinations. I'm fairly sure we'd all agree multiple factors were involved. Rather than make the poll too complicated, I ask you to instead select the one that you think is the "most" important to your viewpoint, and clarify further in your tags/comments as you wish.

so. here we go.

READ BEFORE VOTING ^^^^

(note of correction: "late-onset schizophrenia" should just be "schizophrenia". the typical timeline for onset of symptoms is late adolescence/early adulthood, so syd would've been well within that period at the time)