#so that I do not get the Spicy Water in the open cuts on my fingers whilst I munch

[chiropteracupola]

when they make me god-emperor of everything I will make it so that avocado no longer does the thing where it turns into a gray horrible evil reflection of its former self if you leave it for half an hour

[gyuzgrl]

Look at me ||kmg||

Summary- when your boyfriend surprises you with a new haircut, you can't help but want to jump his bones. You'd die before letting him know that though, ugh.

You were utterly fucked.

The moment Mingyu walked in, tired and sweaty from rehearsals, sporting a fresh haircut, you wanted nothing more than to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him into a kiss.

You were on the couch, as usual, reading some novel- now hastily discarded on the coffee table- when you heard your door open. It was Mingyu, obviously, and your face lit up at the realization. Like an eager puppy, you perked up at the sound of his keys jangling in the door frame.

"baby, I'm home" he called out, hanging up his coat as he walked in, eyes immediately finding your own. He donned a navy basketball cap, one you'd seen him wear very often.

You giggled, jogging over to him before burying your face in his chest- his arms came around to settle at your waist. "missed you"

"I know, I'm here now, hm?" His voice soothed its way into you, and suddenly the world was good. Nothing mattered except you and him, nothing mattered except home.

"whatcha readin' there," his eyes flickered briefly to the novel you'd flung onto the table in a rush, "same as last night?"

"hm, same one"

You pulled away from his embrace, arms settling around his neck now. Finally, you looked up at his face. Something was different.

"hold on-" your hand gently lifted the cap off his head when you noticed how his face stood out more than it did before, "oh my god"

"oh my god, good, or oh my god, bad?"

"good- so good" you mumble, staring at his now freshly cut hair. Mingyu had traded the long hair for a sleek French crop- a refreshing change. You loved his long hair but god did he look good with shorter hair. The faded sides brought out features that were previously hidden by his hair- his tan skin, his eyes, his jawline. You felt your skin heat up under his observing eyes. Had it always felt so intense when he looked at you?

"m'glad you like it" he grins.

You clear your throat. Your arms slip back down to your sides.

"yeah, uh- you should shower, I'll take care of dinner today, kay?"

"I thought I was sup-"

"you've had a long day gyu," you cut him off, ushering him to the bathroom to get him out of your sight.

"you're the best"

Nope. I'm a filthy, filthy woman who can't think past getting laid. If you knew what I wanted to do to you right this moment, you'd call the cops.

"pfft, damn right I am" you quipped, shoving your thoughts aside.

Alright, out of sight, out of mind. Mingyu had disappeared into the shower, and you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a pot as you skillfully dumped a bunch of ingredients in. Nothing like a hot bowl of rice and stew to get your mind out of the gutter.

Or so you thought.

As you tossed the veggies around, spatula in one hand while the other rested at your hip, your mind drifted to Mingyu. Realization hit you like a truck and your eyes widened. He was naked right now. Naked and wet and probably soapy. His hair would be wet too. Fuck he probably looked sinful right now. You could practically see him standing in front of you- skin glistening, biceps flexing as he washed himself. The image had you weak, and an all too familiar heat spread between your legs.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

The hiss of kimchi- dangerously close to being burnt- caught your attention, snapping you out of your thoughts. You startled back to reality and added a dash of water to revive the spicy mixture. Diverting all your attention to cooking, you sped through the active parts of the recipe- chopping, stirring, frying- and sighed in content when all that was left was for the stew to come to a boil. As you carefully placed the lid over the now steaming pot, you felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around your waist.

"hi" Mingyu's voice was breathy and low. He dipped his head into your neck innocently, taking in your scent.

"hi" Your own breathlessness surprised you.

"thank you for making dinner," his hands squeeze tighter around you.

"c'mon you'd do it for me"

Trying to ignore the way his skin heated up your back, you made a lame effort to get him away.

"hey- uh, you should- you wanna put on some music?" you stumble over your words.

"sure, what do yo-"

"anything" you interrupt, too quickly for him to not get suspicious.

Mingyu raises a brow at you but decides to keep his mouth shut. Slowly, he walks over to the speaker lying on your table and connects it to his phone. You can hear his footsteps as he makes his way back to you- speaker in hand.

He sets the speaker on the kitchen counter with a soft thud, before tapping away at his phone. Soft r&b floods the kitchen and you wonder if you've done something to upset the universe. Mingyu's arms find their way back to your waist as he settles behind you.

You can't get upset. You can't. He asked you what to play. You said anything.

"anything I can do?" he asks, voice muffled by the skin of your neck.

"no I-" you let out a shaky breath, "I'm waiting for it to boil- it's almost done"

"so why're you staring at it like it'll burn if you look away for a second"

"I'm not sta-" Mingyu spins you around, caging you between his arms and the kitchen counter.

"c'monn, gimme some attention," he mumbles, eyes burning holes into you, "you haven't so much as looked at me properly today"

"I-" you start, feeling your throat close up at the sight of his freshly showered frame.

Grey sweatpants. No shirt. Wet hair. Smash.

"you?"

"I'm looking at you right now, aren't I?"

Your eyes dart between his face and the space between your bodies, unable to hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds. He scoffs, leaning closer,

"look at me"

He hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head up towards him. You have no choice but to meet his gaze and boy does it burn.

"what's up with you today, hm?"

"nothing"

"puppy, c'mon you're so jittery, tell me why"

The name sends chills down your spine. A feather-soft touch ghosts over your cheek, the pads of Mingyu's fingers stroking free strands of hair behind your ears. His hand lingers around the shell of your ear for a while, before he sighs.

"I just," you whisper, "uh, the um- stew- oh fuck the stew's boiling"

He groans as you wriggle out of his touch, now turning back to the stove. Mingyu moves to scoop rice into two bowls while you bring the pot to the coffee table, settling on the warm rug below.

"thanks" he mumbles.

You eat in silence.

Every movement on his end has you jumping out of your skin. You're aware now, that he's caught on. He's been staring at you all this while. You've been too scared to meet his gaze. When he leans forward to nab the last spoon of stew, you jolt upright with a small squeak.

"I'll clear up-" you begin, desperate to cover up the sound you just made, but Mingyu was too quick for that. As you stood up to leave, Mingyu tugged you back down- right into his lap.

"stay"

"what are y-"

"stay here"

The scent of his body wash floods your senses and it's almost overwhelming how large his presence feels. He was everywhere. There was no escaping this, no escaping him.

"here's what I think is happening- you tell me if I'm on the right track, okay?" You nod, glancing down at the floor.

"I think you're a little flustered,"

You nod.

"and it's 'cause of me,"

You nod again.

"my haircut, specifically-"

Hesitantly, you nod once again.

"and," he traces his hand down to the crotch of your shorts between your crossed legs, "I think you need my help"

Your breath catches in your throat when his fingers tease your slit through the flimsy fabric of your shorts. Looking away, you can't seem to hide the red flush bubbling up your cheeks. It was embarrassing how easily he read you.

"am I wrong?"

You shake your head.

"so you do need my help"

You nod.

"how bad?" Suddenly his voice drops to a whisper and your eyes widen.

"wh-"

" how bad do you need me"

"I-" you feel your throat tighten. Words seem particularly difficult today, don't they?

You squirm in his lap, your back flush against his firm chest, but his hands hold you still. "this won't do, doll,"

"gotta use your words, yeah?"

He knew damn well how shy you got around him. He knew how you rarely initiated anything physical. He knew you couldn't bear the way he said such filthy, filthy things to you with a poker-straight face.

He knew, but still, here you are- sitting red-faced in his lap as he tries to coax pleas out of you. The bastard wanted to hear you beg.

"Mingyu please " Your voice is a whisper, meek and soft. It almost gets him to stop teasing. Almost.

"please?" he echoes, smirking against your skin. Mingyu presses gentle kisses along your shoulder, so soft you can barely feel them. The action leaves your skin tingling, goosebumps running across your arm.

"don't be mean gyu c'monn"

He grins, "just wanna hear you say it puppy," A hand slides its way down your body and into your shorts while his lips continue their assault. "you can do that for me, can't you?"

When his fingers find your clit and he toys around with it ever-so-softly, you can barely contain the whimper that threatens to spill from your lips.

"gonna be good for me, hm? gonna tell me how bad you need to cum?" he groans, "fuck you're dripping "

"Mingyu plea- oh" He slips a digit into you, pumping in and out so slowly you could cry, "fas-faster please" As the words leave your lips, embarrassment settles on you like a rain cloud. Mingyu, however, seems super satisfied.

"good girl, keep talking puppy, tell me what you need"

His finger picks up speed and your back arches away from him at the sudden change- "min- oh my god fuck you feel so good" His thumb rubs tight circles at your clit, and you feel your stomach tighten, an all too familiar knot threatening to snap with his movements.

The room feels hot. Hotter than it was a few minutes ago. Your shorts were still on, your shirt too. Clothed and writhing in Mingyu's lap, you wanted nothing more than to shed the suffocating fabric. He, however, still had his sweatpants on and didn't seem the least bit concerned. With his chest pressing into your back, you could feel the bare skin of his torso against yours, but it was a shame that you couldn't see his half-naked frame. His muscles tensed as his hands worked you up to your high, biceps flexing deliciously around you.

"please," You clawed at his hand- the one sitting snug in your shorts- nails digging into his forearm when he added a second digit into you. "keep- fuck keep doing that I'm gonna-"

"I know, puppy, I know, let go for me hm? can you do that? can you be a good girl and cum all over my fingers?"

His words sent you over the edge, and your head fell back in pleasure as you chanted his name like a prayer. You were a martyr for him- dying small deaths every time your bodies connected, every time he touched you, every time he lit you ablaze with his words. Mingyu always knew what you needed, what your body desired. It was eerie, almost, how well he read your mind.

"fuck-" a low groan on his end has you settling back to reality, and you realise his fingers are still moving. A cry leaves your parted lips at the overstimulation and your legs tremble when he holds them open. "you wanted to cum, didn't you? you can give me one more, doll, c'mon

"oh my god Mi- Mingyu"

"that's it puppy,"

His fingers slip out of you and trace their way up to your clit, coating it with your arousal. Two digits part you open, while his middle finger glides across the tender bundle of nerves, adding pressure when he hears your breathing grow shallow.

Your body spasms under his touch, cries bouncing off the walls of your living room, and he knows you're nearing another high. Mingyu flicks your clit, pulling a particularly loud moan from you, and quickens his pace.

"c'mon, sweetheart, cum for me, hm? I know you want to baby, just let go" And with that, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, stronger than the first, mixed with a tinge of pain- you didn't mind at all, though, did you?

Mingyu can't resist slipping his fingers back into you to coat them with your juices, and you jerk up. A smirk graces his handsome features and he pumps into you a few times, teasing just a little. Your body goes limp atop him, shoulders slumping, thighs quivering into him. It's adorable, he thinks. All he'd done was fuck you on his fingers, yet here you are, spent like you'd been at it all night.

"still with me, puppy?"

You nod, dazed. Your mouth feels dry- throat hoarse from all the screaming you'd done minutes before- and your limbs feel like jelly, but god did you want more. No matter what time of day, no matter how tired or upset or distracted you are, if he was offering, you were game. Just like you are now.

"are you sure? you're- fuck you're shaking " A soothing hand smooths over your exposed thigh, tender like he didn't just rip two orgasms out of you in succession. It's almost ironic how he switches from being an overwhelming tease to a gentle little lamb. The same hands that labored to work you up, to break you, are now rubbing your skin softly to bring you down and settle your frenzied nerves.

The two of you sit in place for a minute, with him whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he calms you down. When he feels you relax completely Mingyu is quick to scoop you up in his arms and place you on the couch, settling himself between your thighs on his knees. He looks up at you in silent permission, eyes practically begging for you to say yes. To say something.

So you do.

"please- please touch me " It's embarrassing the way your voice comes out all soft and wobbly but neither of you mind. Fuck, Mingyu thinks it's the hottest thing he's heard you say. And of course, since you asked so nicely, who was he to disoblige?

Seconds after, you found yourself sobbing into your arm- draped over your face- at the way he lapped you up. The sheer wetness of you was intoxicating. He couldn't help but be a little selfish. He'd wanted a taste ever since he saw how hard you tried to control yourself all night.

"so good for me," you heard him mumble against you, "so fucking sweet". You could've sworn he was getting more out of this than you were, but with the way your voice gave way to the most lewd sounds you've ever made, it was anyone's game.

Mingyu licks a fat stripe up your folds before plunging his tongue into your hole, fucking you with the wet muscle. You cry out in pleasure, feeling the way he forces his way in. The wet squelches of your sex coupled with the borderline pornographic moans you made were enough to make a sailor blush. It was so raw, so carnal.

His hands pry your thighs apart when you start closing in around him, and he pins them open, merciless in his assault. "be good, baby" he warns.

And you want to be. You really do. But with the way his tongue works into you, you can't help yourself. It's too much. You feel your legs strain against his hands, flesh giving under the force of his grip. His brows crease with effort and he groans into you, shoving your thighs even further apart. The sudden force earns him a yelp on your end, and he smirks in satisfaction.

"you're gonna keep these open for me aren't you, puppy?" Mingyu withdraws his tongue and kisses his way up to your clit. He places a few wet pecks at your clit before stimulating it with his tongue, using your wetness to trace back and forth.

Your back arches against the couch, head falling back- "ye-fuck- anything you want". Mingyu seems satisfied with your response and within moments he brings you to your third orgasm of the evening. His name leaves your lips in a high-pitched cry as you cum, hands flying to grab at his hair and drag him away from your sensitive heat.

It makes him chuckle, your sensitivity. You were so fucking cute like this, ruined for him, by him. He did this. He did this and he knew no one else could.

"baby," he coos, now standing in front of you, "where'd my pretty girl go, hm? thought you wanted to cum on my cock but if yo-"

"n-no please daddy, please- want your cock so bad plea-" The urgency in your voice is evident as you scramble up on wobbly legs to keep him close, knees giving way so quickly you can barely process what happens when he rushes to support you.

"oh puppy," Mingyu feels something stir within him at your panicked desperation, "shh baby, I got you hm? whatever you want from me is yours, I'm yours- always will be"

That's how you end up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with his eyes locked onto yours; wordless and intense. He lowers you onto the plush surface of your bed, making sure your head rests comfortably on the pillows behind. In a swift motion, he sheds his sweatpants, leaving himself completely bare for you.

"please," you whimper, "daddy please-". It's painful how badly you need him. He seems to be able to tell as well, seeing how his limbs drag him back into bed, parting on either side of your hip. You feel the way his cock ghosts over where you need him most, and your eyes begin to well with tears. "please"

He complies, wordlessly.

The head of his cock- angry and red- slips between your folds, lubricating his length with your slick so he doesn't hurt you when he pushes in. It's a simple action, but it makes your back arch prettily under him, begging for more.

"colour?" he asks, looking into your eyes.

"green" you affirm.

Slowly, he pushes into you, hips meeting yours as he bottoms out. Mingyu groans at the tight fit, you sob at the stretch. Your walls stretch deliciously around him and he finds himself getting lost in your heat right away. The sounds you made, that blissful fucked-out look on your face, the way you tried so hard to keep your eyes open- failing almost always- he was weak for it all. Weak for you. He draws his hips back before thrusting in again and again, until tears stream down your cheeks and all you can think is 'mingyu mingyu mingyu'.

His eyes never left your face for a second and he drank in the sounds you made, muffling his own by biting down into your neck. The tender skin vibrated under his lips with every moan, every sob he drew out of you.

You were alive under him.

Feverish hands trailed around his shoulders up to the sides of his neck, pulling him closer, feeling his skin, his weight, his breathing against your body. The slow, sensual drag of his hips was intense. More than it usually was. Thus far, you'd always had a great time with him, always been fucked right, but now? Now with the way he cradled you in his arms, inhaling your scent as he rocked his body desperately into yours, you were certain this was more than just fucking. He was making love to you.

Perhaps it was the way you so earnestly needed him. Perhaps it was the desperation in your eyes. Something, something, had struck a chord within him because now, he looked at you and made you feel like you were made for him. Like you were the only two people in this world and nothing else mattered. Like he had maybe- just maybe- fallen in love with you.

"gonna c- daddy, fuck don't stop," you moaned, tugging at his hair, nails digging into his back.

He groans in response and you know he's cumming right with you. "so good for me- made just for me- fuck"

A few more thrusts before his movements lose precision, growing sloppy and strained. Mingyu rips his head from the crevice of your neck and looks at you. You're on the brink of coming undone, nearly there, and he could swear he's dreaming. You're so pretty, always are, but something about you now has him losing himself faster than usual. The pink tinge on your cheeks that glows when you drink yourself nearly to death pales in comparison to the burning hue now, your pupils are blown wider than he'd ever seen, and your lips- fuck your lips- they were swollen and bruised and glossy- he can't get enough.

He watches as you break under him, his name flowing from your mouth along a stream of sobs and whimpers, and follows suit, releasing his load into you.

Reality hits soon after, and his exhaustion catches up to him, as does yours. Mingyu crushes you under him, laying on top of you for a minute to catch his breath.

"that was-" he starts before breaking off into an airy scoff, "christ "

All you can offer in response is a weak laugh, and he kisses the skin under his lips in pity. "m'sorry puppy, I dunno what got int-"

"don't be. really. I uh, I liked tonight. a lot."

Mingyu pulls himself up to kiss you, softly, gently. It made your stomach churn. 'oh.' you realized, 'I'm in love'

What you don't realize, however, is that Mingyu feels the same.

For now, all you can do is lean into his touch as he picks you up and takes you to the bathroom to clean up. We'll save confessing for another day.

[inkdrinkerworld]

High Hopes 3

part one part two

cw: reader comes from a very tense and abusive home, verbal abuse, allusion to physical abuse, bad sibling relationships, fluff, angst, Remus is a sweetheart and the best almost bf ever

wc: 7.5k

Remus: On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if I said I found out your birthday passed and got you a gift?

You read the text as you’re exiting your class building and frown. Your birthday passed just after the new year, and you hadn’t told Remus because you hadn’t even been in the country. 

In lieu of an answer, you call him. Remus picks up on the second ring. 

“What did you get me?” He laughs down the line and you feel your stomach twist into knots. 

“Hello to you too, princess.” Since the Summer weekend sleepover thing (you’d still not decided what to call it), Remus had decided that was your new nickname and as much as you pretended to hate it, you loved it more than the others. 

“Hi Remus,” you breathe, eyes on the street as you cross and begin the walk back to your apartment. “What did you get me?” 

You can just tell he’s shaking his head. “It’s a present, why would I spoil that surprise?” 

“Because I’m impatient?” You rebut quickly. The walk back to your apartment is short, but the lingering winter makes it feel never ending. 

It also doesn’t help that you’d chosen style over cosiness- you’re in a long sleeved baby blue dress and a pair of boots that barely lick past your ankles. 

“I’m at your apartment, dove. I’ll give it to you when you get here.” 

Your eyes widen at the same time your heart constricts. “Remus, I’ve got like ten minutes left on my walk back!” 

As easily as he suggests anything to you, “Do you want me to come get you? It’s minus four right now.” 

“No, that wouldn’t make any sense,” you hear his car start. “Remus Lupin, I’m serious, I’m like one street away.” 

“So I’ll cut your walk short,” The engine roars across the line. “It’s cold, baby.” The fondness in his voice and his sparsely given ‘baby’ is what makes you stop. 

“Fine,” you try to sound much grumpier than you are and fail. “I’m at the coffee shop on the left.” 

Ten seconds later, Remus is there; his grey car collecting droplets of fine snow. 

“Hi,” you say as you slide in the passenger seat, your hands rubbing together making Remus frown. 

“And you wanted to finish the walk.” He flicks on the heating as he turns and goes back where he came. 

“How did you find out about my birthday?” You ask, fiddling with your bag to get out your water bottle. 

“Marlene mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to spend it with her this year and I asked when it was.” 

You hum, “It’s a little inconvenient having your birthday just after the new year,” Remus looks at you funny. “I like winter, don’t get me wrong, but a spring birthday would’ve been ideal. Like maybe in March.” 

He rolls his eyes, pulling into your parking lot. 

“How do you know when mine is?” He asks, helping you out of the car and then grabbing a bag out of the backseat. 

“Sirius and James talk a lot. Your gift is currently in transit.” 

Remus’ eyes shoot up, “When have you been hanging out with those two?” The ‘without me’ is implied and you look at him with a sly smile. 

“Jealous, Remus?” 

He tuts, figuring you out immediately. “You’re not winding me up, princess.” He holds the door open for you as you walk in and Remus sighs as he gets a whiff of your newest perfume. 

The couple of times he’s been to see you since the start of the semester, you’ve been wearing this intoxicatingly creamy vanilla perfume that has just a touch of something spicy to it that has been driving him mad. 

“Why would I be winding you up?” You toe off your boots and then look at him. “I’m gonna take the fastest shower known to man, but there’s food in the fridge and cookies in a Tupperware somewhere on the counter.” 

Remus shakes his head, setting his shoes beside yours. “I’ll wait for you, take your time.” 

You’re out of the bathroom in twenty minutes, in a matching jewel blue set of loungewear and a pair of socks. 

Your hair is tied back exposing a tiny tattoo behind your ear that Remus wants desperately to kiss. He’s on his laptop when you get out, typing away at what you assume is his book.

Remus doesn’t go here, he’s got a fancy writing degree already and he’s got an editing gig that he tries playing off as no big deal- but it is. 

He’s on ‘vacation’ though- meaning, he’s been on sick leave for the last four days so he can spend your first week back at school with you. Not that you know he’s been using his sick days for you. 

“Is roti okay? My mama dropped off some this morning.” Remus has yet to meet the old woman, but the fondness that overtakes your tone lets him know she’s at least half as lovely as you. 

“It’s perfect, dove. What do you want to look at?” He sets about finding your newest psychological thriller- Hannibal- and then makes his way into the kitchen to help you. 

“How was your day? I forgot to ask.” You mumble as you crack the ice into glasses before Remus pours some soda into them. 

“It was alright, got a couple more pages done of the book and then got high with Sirius.” 

You smile, a quiet smile that Remus thinks is going to stop his heart. “How was your classes?” 

You groan, “Long, boring and even longer.” He chuckles, leaving you to bring the glasses while he brings both plates to the living room. 

Remus sits in the corner of the sofa, he isn’t as slick as he thinks he is for sitting with a clearer view of the front door than you have. 

You appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. 

“Can I open the gift first?” Remus watches you with a rapt curiosity. He thinks you’re akin to a kid on Christmas- eyes bright, and hands shaking as you practically bounce in your seat. 

“Yeah baby,” he can’t help the sticky affection that slowly coats his words- an affection that only grows and spreads like warm honey. 

Remus watches you carefully tear the wrapping paper off the gift, his lips quirked just so as he watches your jaw drop. 

“You didn’t,” you murmur, shock and disbelief in your voice as you pull the wooden box out of the wrapping paper. 

“Open it,” the box in your lap is walnut colored, carved with spirals, flowers and dots and divots. The carvings are coloured in bright reds, oranges, yellows and some pinks. 

The lock resembles an ancient rusted clasp lock and as you unlatch it and reveal rows and stairs of chains. 

“Remus,” your voice is all clogged up and your bottom lip trembles and Remus wonders if he’s overdone it. 

“Yeah?” Your fingers trail along the crystal chips on the chains and you find your heart has cracked open. 

“This is the loveliest gift I’ve ever gotten,” the words are whispered into the air, your dinners cold as you take in every single chain in the box. “They’re for my glasses, yeah?”

“They are, pretty girl.” 

Silently, you close the box and put it to the side. “Thank you,” you blink and your tears tumble down your cheeks. His hands reach to wipe your cheeks gently. 

“You’re welcome.” You climb into his lap, Remus’ hands hold your hips. 

“You know you’re the first person since Marlene to get me something thoughtful?” 

Remus knows it’s meant to be a flippant comment, but his heart breaks for you. 

“Dove,” your heart clenches. “You’re breaking my heart.” His hands move up to cup your cheeks.

“I don’t mean to,” you say softly, shrugging one shoulder but Remus sees past the nonchalance you’re trying to exude. He doesn’t understand how someone as lovely as you has been treated so weirdly. 

He gives you an out though because he doesn’t want to push and push and push, “C’mon princess. Eat your dinner.” You take it and your plate as you press play. 

Remus notices you don’t move out of his lap but only smiles when you turn and start eating. 

“You’re staying the night?” You ask after you’ve both finished your dinner. 

Remus inhales, “What time is your first class tomorrow?” 

You pull away from him a little, “Eleven,” you have a hopeful look on your face that makes his answer easy. 

“Yeah I’ll stay the night.” 

You smile so big Remus thinks his heart stops. 

Then you get serious, “Wait, how do you feel about sharing the bed?” You ask the question softly, and Remus frowns. 

“I’ve shared the bed with you before, dove.” 

You shake your head, “I have a um,” you stumble for the words. Remus smiles. 

“A stuffy?” He asks quietly and you nod, nibbling away on your bottom lip. 

“Yeah a little yellow duckie,” Remus’ smile only widens. 

“That’s sweet, dove.” 

“You don’t think it’s silly?” He shakes his head. 

“How come I didn’t see it when we were at the other house?” He asks, his thumbs caressing your thighs. 

“I put him back in my suitcase, and I felt really bad about it too. I left it unzipped a little,” Remus kisses your temple as he chuckles. 

“You’re the sweetest fucking thing in the world.” 

Changing the conversation, “Do you want chai?” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up, “You have chai or do you need to make it?” 

You shake your head, a tired smile that’s a little teasing, “Jamie dropped it off for me when he came to see Lils.” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up even farther, “Jamie?” 

You giggle, “Yeah, s’what you guys call him.” 

Remus is a little indignant, “Jamie?” He repeats and you laugh even more. 

“Are you jealous, Remus?” 

Your hand reaches to the nape of his neck, twisting the sandy brown hair there as he deliberates. 

“Of James getting a nickname?” He asks and you nod, letting your fingers scratch his scalp a little. “No dove,” Remus fights the shiver that threatens to climb his back. “I’m not even a little jealous,” 

He leans into you, your noses bumping. “Why not?” Your breaths mingle as you lean even closer to Remus. 

“Because,” his hand cups your neck, his thumbs punching your chin upwards. Your chest heaves, “You’re already breathless and I haven’t even kissed you yet, princess.” 

“Please.” 

Remus smirks, wicked and impish. “No,” you whine and Remus almost rethinks his answer. “Go heat up your chai, pretty girl.” 

“You’re no fun,” you hop off his lap and head to the kitchen all the while Remus chuckles, his head against the back of the cushions as he watches you flit about the kitchen. 

-

The next time Remus sees you it’s after possibly one of the worst days of your life in a long time. Everything had gone wrong and there’d been a pit in your stomach all the way to your apartment. 

Just as you were about to walk in, your phone rang and without looking, you answered it. 

“Why does that boy keep going to your apartment?” 

You pull the phone from your ear and curse softly when you see, ‘Devil’s Right Hand,’ displayed on the screen. 

“What?” You really don’t have the energy today. 

Your father doesn’t seem to care though, “The boy. The one with the grey car.” 

As if you’re ten and not a grown ass woman, “Because we’re friends.” 

Simple, succinct and it would’ve been sufficient for any other regular parent. 

Your dad is anything but. 

“And he doesn’t leave till the morning? Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

The ‘yes’ in your brain wants so badly to slide off your tongue. You manage to bite it back. 

“I don’t understand the problem. I’m an adult, I can do as I please. You don’t even pay for the apartment, Mama does.” 

You hear the low simmering anger in your father’s tone. “Your grandmother gives you too much leeway.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’m not in the mood for a fight, was that all you wanted to know?” 

“Girl, watch your tone, it’s not a long drive to your place.” 

You shiver at the threat. “Can I go please? I have coursework to do and I’ve got exams to prep for later this week.” 

“Oh sure, coursework. Come home this weekend, your grandparents are at the house on Sunday.” 

Your body sags as you hang up the phone, the backs of your eyes burn with exhaustion. 

With a sigh, you unlock the door and get into your apartment. 

You don’t even bother to change or sit still, instead you just jump straight into your work; hours pass before your phone rings again. 

This time, it’s Remus.

“Hey,” he doesn’t like your tone, or the way you sigh the word. 

“Hi dove, I’m outside.” 

You’re relieved when you see him. He looks warm and cosy. His hair looks pillow soft and his sweater is a faded yellow one against the brown of his corduroy jeans. 

“I brought snacks,” he says, jingling a plastic bag in his hand.

You don’t smile quite as big as you normally would’ve and Remus frowns. “Long day?” He asks as he steps in, kissing your forehead when you nod. 

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up my coursework and we can have dinner.” 

Remus waits for you, busying himself with plating up dinner- leftover Chinese food from yesterday. 

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as he sets both plates on the coffee table and starts the tv. “Have some food and then get back to it if you like, but I need you to eat.” 

You look to argue, but he’s not commanding you. He’s not demanding anything from you, he’s nudging you to look after yourself. 

For a moment, you get stuck in just looking at him and your mind whirs. Remus is unlike anyone else in your life- he doesn’t take, he doesn’t shout and make threats, he doesn’t force you into a box or anything of the sort. 

Instead, he gives you room and watches you, watches you be yourself and encourages you to be yourself. It makes you emotional for a minute, the back of your throat burning as you come to the realisation. 

 “Coming,” you whisper, Remus’ eyes track your movements, and he smiles a little when you sit right up beside him, your forearms brushing. 

Dinner is quiet, little conversation here and there because Remus can tell you’re exhausted. 

In that sense, he washes up the dishes while you shower and he tidies up the living room before double checking your door is locked. 

He’s pouring hot water over the tea bags when you come out of your room, dressed in the softest look pyjamas he’s ever seen. 

“Oh you look cosy, princess.” You go bashful under the lovestruck tone to his words, walking into the arms he has open. 

One hand goes to the base of your neck, holding firm as his other hand squeezes around your back. 

“Tired?” He whispers into your hair and you hum. 

“I can have a cuppa though, not that tired.” 

You barely make it halfway through your cup before your eyes are closing and your head is lolling onto Remus’ shoulder. 

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, setting his cup down and sliding his hands under your thighs and around your back. “S’okay dove,” he coos as you stir, your nose brushed up to his neck as he walks to your bedroom. 

“Stay,” you mumble as he sets you down and Remus smiles. 

“M’right here dovey, not going a place.”

Remus wakes up to you moving around in bed, your legs kicking and your body thrashing. 

“Hey,” he croaks, voice cracking from sleep. “Dovey,” he mumbles, his hand rubbing your arm. “Baby wake up.” 

His nose brushes your cheek, hands shaking your shoulder a bit as your tossing worsens. 

“Wake up dove,” he whispers, stroking your neck. 

“Remus?” Your voice shakes, eyes open wide as you try to get your bearings.

“It’s me baby, I’m right here.” Your heart is racing as you sit up, Remus following suit. 

“Sorry,” you whimper, brushing your cheeks as you feel tears fall. Remus flicks on your lamp and his eyebrows thread together.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” He tucks you into his side. “Wanna talk to me about it?” 

His hand creeps under your shirt, his knuckles dragging up and down your spine. 

“Was just a dream,” you whisper, not quite sounding yourself. “A bad dream.” 

Remus nods, “Yeah, it was just a dream, pretty girl. Your pulse is pounding though, babe.” He can feel the harsh beat of it against the knuckles on your back. 

You shut your eyes, reliving the scenes in the dream vividly. 

“It’s a recurring thing,” you start, letting yourself be comforted by Remus’ hand on your back and the faint scent of his citrus soap. “I’m little again and my dad is blue mad, breaking glass and screaming in my face.” 

You take a shuddering breath and Remus tries his best not to react with his body. 

“I was about ten or eleven I think, by that time our relationship wasn’t salvageable. I can’t even remember what he was so upset about but I always seemed like the perfect target. ‘Specially when I started telling him off for being mean to my mum.” 

“Baby this was real?” You nod, Remus lets himself for a moment, imagine little you stopping grown adults from arguing and he feels his chest tighten at the thought. 

“He tried coming at me and mum with a piece of the glass. It was just a mess. The fight only stopped because our neighbours came to get me.” 

He feels your tears wet his shirt, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’ve started shaking again. 

“You’re alright baby,” his words sound like a promise whispered into your hairline. “You don’t have to go back to that, I swear you don’t.” 

“I think the reason I had a nightmare was because he called earlier. Said to come home on Sunday and that he knew you were staying over.” 

Remus can’t stop himself from stiffening then. He hates the frustration and defeat in your voice. 

“Do you want me to come with you on Sunday?” The offer is as easy as the breath he inhales. 

You look up at him, eyelashes wet and stuck together, lips and cheeks swollen from crying. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Remus smiles- a sad smile. 

“You didn’t ask,” he kisses your nose. “Think about it okay? I won’t be offended if you say no, pretty girl.” 

You nod and tuck yourself back into him. 

“Do you think you can go back to sleep or do you wanna watch something?” 

You think for a long time, “Will you hold me till I fall asleep?” 

God his heart really is breaking. Who could hurt you? 

“Till you wake up, dove.” 

Remus wakes up before you do, his arms still wrapped around you, and you’re more on his chest than on the bed. 

His mind wakes faster than his body, racing with thoughts of little you and the things you’ve lived. He finds that you hide it well. The hurt, the pain, the everything. One look at you wouldn’t reveal that, all anyone would see is a rich girl living with her parents and doing whatever she pleases; but under the surface? 

You’re so like everyone else, but so singular that it stops his breath a little. 

You don’t have class today, so he decides quite quickly that he’s letting you sleep in. The only thing you have to do is finish the last bit of your coursework and then Remus thinks a day doing your favourite things- shopping for books and having tea- is in order. 

He also wants to start breakfast, you’d mentioned a couple nights ago that you’d been craving blueberries and he’d had a hankering for pancakes. 

Remus tries moving out from under you but your fist closes around his shirt and he stays put. 

Breakfast can wait a bit. 

“Remmy?” You wake shortly after, the sunlight peeking through the curtains tickling your eyes. 

“Yes, dove?” His hand is stroking your arm, his blunt fingernails dragging slowly makes it hard for you to open your eyes. 

“Time is it?” You stretch as he reaches for his phone. 

“Just gone past ten,” you settle right back into his chest with a sigh. 

“Can you wake me up again at eleven?” You ask at the same time Remus asks, 

“Do you wanna go out for breakfast?” 

You hum, “What’re we having?” 

A yawn tears apart his answer, “Blueberry pancakes? Or bagels? Either or, I don’t mind.” 

“Are you making pancakes?” He can already tell where the question is headed. 

“Yes, do you have everything for them?” You nod then you shake your head. 

“Except the blueberries.” 

Remus pulls you and the covers a little closer. “Want me to go in to the grocery and get them?” You shake your head. 

“I’ll settle for whatever fruit I’ve got in the house.” Remus tuts. 

“Would you prefer blueberries?” He asks, his fingers dancing across the nape of your neck. 

“Yeah,” that’s all he needed to hear. 

“I’ll make you some tea and head out,” Remus isn’t allowed to slide out from under you, your thigh on his hip pins him down.

“You don’t have to,” you say bashfully, an intense guilt that’s completely unnecessary creeps into your voice and Remus has to slide his hands to your neck and push your chin up under your jaw. 

“You’re not inconveniencing me, pretty girl. I’m getting them, coming back here and making pancakes and then we’re going either to the beach or the bookstore.” 

You shake your head as best as you can with Remus holding your jaw. “You don’t have to do all of this just because I had a bad dream.” 

He tuts, “I want to take care of you. I’ll just be fifteen minutes.” 

You nod, accepting your defeat in the argument. 

In the time Remus is gone, you find yourself going through photo albums and reminiscing on the days when things were a lot easier. 

You stop on a picture of you and your grandmother and you sigh. Grabbing your phone, you dial her number. 

“Hello, Mama?” Your voice wavers as you speak. 

“Yes, Bebo?” You smile at the sound of her voice. Instantly, you feel like you’re being swaddled in her arms and like your troubles are eased. Your home name falling from her mouth with such familiarity also makes your chest ache. 

“I’m having trouble,” you say honestly. “I don’t know how to forgive anymore.” 

She sighs, you can hear shuffling in the back and things knocking about and then you hear your grandmother’s voice. “Bebo, you don’t have to forgive everybody.” She says, and you sniffle. “Not everyone needs that, or deserves that.” When you don’t answer she worries. You and your grandmother have an insanely close relationship, summers were spent in her back garden and on the beach near her house. She knows you as well as you can know any person. 

“Do you want me to come over? I can bring you lunch.” You take a minute to consider and know in your heart of hearts that she would be on her way if you said yes. 

“No,” you take the conversation to a different direction quickly. “Are you coming over on Sunday? Dad said.” 

You can hear the smile in her voice, “Yeah, I miss my grandkids, Bebo.” 

You’d seen her just three days ago but it feels like a month ago. “I miss you too, Mama. Would it be weird if I brought someone for dinner?” 

She gasps, always one for a good bit of gossip. “Like a boyfriend? Bebo, I’ve been waiting for this!” She sounds so excited that the image of her smiling wide behind her glasses warms your heart. 

“You don’t think dad will make it a thing?” 

She puffs out air, “Your dad would make the sun coming out a thing if he wanted to. I need you to not live your life according to him, Bebo. He’s my son, but he’s a little shit and he doesn’t rule you or anyone else.” 

You sigh, chest shaking under the weight of your withheld thoughts. 

“Is that why you don’t want me coming over? Your boyfriend is over?” You giggle, feeling weirdly like she’s right beside you as you tuck your phone between your cheek and shoulder. 

“He went to get blueberries because I wanted pancakes, and he’s not my boyfriend, Mama.” She scoffs, you smile. 

“But you like him and he’s nice?” 

“Super nice, like tooth rotting nice. And he’s really gentle and calm too.” 

You can see your grandmother’s smile, and find yourself doing the same. Even more so when you hear the knock on your door. 

“You deserve nice, gentle and calm, Bebo. I’m sorry I couldn’t have kept you kids for longer.” 

“Mama,” you gasp the words as you look through the peephole and find Remus standing there with the groceries. “You did and are doing enough. You’re not in charge of his actions, he is.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow as he sees your glassy eyes as he steps into the apartment. 

“I know Bebo, I know.” 

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you to let you know if I’m coming okay? If I am, would you bring,” she cuts you off. 

“Of course I’ll bring you coconut fudge Bebo, I’ll make it on Saturday so it doesn’t get stale.” 

Remus starts about the kitchen, but you can tell he’s intrigued about the conversation- or at the least, who you’re on the phone with. 

“Thanks Mama, I love you.” You see a little smile break out of his face even as he faces away from you to measure the flour. 

“I love you too Bebo, go enjoy your boyfriend.” You laugh scandalously and hear her chuckle before you hang up. 

“How’s your grandma?” Remus asks as you come into the kitchen and sit on the counter near him. 

“She’s good. I called her to talk about the nightmare but I kept getting too sad so we just talked about other stuff.” You swing your feet as you watch Remus mix the wet and dry ingredients. 

“Is she also going to dinner on Sunday?” He poses it conversationally, because it is but he also wants a feel for who’s there at these dinners. 

You nod, stealing a blueberry from the carton. “She’s always there. I think she comes because she knows if she’s there my dad will be in check for the whole night;” you smile when you eat the blueberry and find it’s sweet. “She’s pretty scary when she needs to be.” 

“I don’t doubt that, dove. You’re the same way, can tell there’s a little fire behind all that niceness.” 

You roll your eyes, “Whatever you say Lupin,” Remus sets your griddle on and oils it as it heats up. “Would you really want to come on Sunday?” 

He pours three pancakes on, “Unless I have to do something strange, then yes I want to come.” 

“If I told you that there was an initiation process that everyone’s super anal about, that would be a deal breaker?” Remus looks at you wide eyed and then notices your poorly hidden smile. 

“You’re a menace.” He says as he flips the pancakes, another raucous laugh bubbling out of you. 

“On occasion.” Remus stacks three for you and reaches for the syrup in the cupboard above your head. “But Mama, my granny, will probably badger you about your ‘intentions’ and whatever else.” 

You thank Remus for the pancakes with a kiss on his cheek. “Eat,” he says, cutting your pancakes for you, making you smile. “I can handle badgering. But I should warn you, I don’t hide anger well.” 

You wave off his concern. “Oh he won’t be out of line, Mama keeps him in check. And I just ignore him anyways.” Remus doesn’t like the way you shrug like your dad being a prick is no big deal, but he decides you’ve shared enough for the day. 

You don’t start eating till he makes his own stack and switches off the stove and that makes him smile a little. 

“Do you have a preference for the beach or the bookstore?” He asks in between bites of breakfast. 

You think for a moment, “Can we go to the bookstore? There’s a couple books I want to check on.” 

Remus nods, not really caring where you go, just that you do something you like. 

-

You decide against Remus joining you, not sure if you’re ready for him to see the circus that is your family. 

Your Mama is on the front porch, sipping what you know is coffee as you get out your car. 

You send Remus a text, Made it. I’ll let you know how it goes. 

His response is immediate, My offer to come get you is always on the table, princess

“Where’s your boyfriend?”She asks, standing to hug you.

“Told him that it might be too much, didn’t want to scare him off.” You try to sound as chipper as possible, but your grandmother knows you. 

“He’s not in control of you anymore, Bebo. You can’t give it to him.” 

You nod, diverting the conversation. “How’d the fudge turn out?” 

You have a couple bricks with her and your older brother in the garden out back before they’re ready to serve dinner. 

There’s a quiet stillness that covers the remaining winter, the coffee and coconut milk fudge just enough to make it seem like the tranquillity could last forever. 

“Mama said you have a boyfriend?” your older brother asks, protectiveness and amusement in his tone as you look up at him wide eyed and shocked. 

“I told her he’s not my boyfriend. Not yet.” 

“She really wants him to be. He made her pancakes and he spent the night.” You tut at your grandmother’s gossiping. 

Your brother smiles, “I’d like to meet him sometime, you look happy again.” You just nod, scared that you might say something that gives away how much you really really like Remus. 

“Dinner’s ready,” your mum comes out on the porch, giving all three of you a soft smile before going back in. 

Dinner is great until the round-the-table questions get to you. You’d avoided it for a couple courses, but it appears your luck is out. 

“How was your coursework?” Your dad says it like it was an actual lie, you don’t miss the vile amusement in his tone, like he’s waiting to catch you in a lie.

“Lots of reading, but I think I got above 85 which is great considering this professor is known for failing students for less than 75.” 

Your dad isn’t satisfied. “What was it about?” 

You stiffen in your chair, you don’t like the implication that you’re lying. “Capital punishment, recidivism and how the two coincide.” 

Your mum can tell your dad is still not pleased, so can your grandmother and she sets him right with a look. 

“Do you need her professors to start running their coursework topics through you? Are you going to call the school next because you disbelieve everything?” 

The table is tense as your grandmother and your dad have a stare off- not that she’s at all concerned about him. 

Your younger siblings feed off your dad’s energy, their own question hot and ready and aimed at anyone with answers.

 “How is it fair that she moved out?” And “Why does Mama pay for her apartment and not just tell her to move back home? It’s silly how much she’ll do for attention.” Or “Maybe if she just came home dad wouldn’t be so upset?” You can’t even get a word in, stunned silent as you realise this is how they see you.

It’s when your younger brother and sister say, “You always make it about you, you’re Mama’s favourite and that pisses us off. Dad doesn’t like you because you think you’re better than us, and it would all be better if you just made a clear decision- do you want to be in the family or not?”, that your breath quickens at their words, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. 

The part that hurts is that they’re too young to know all the things that have happened, they don’t get why it’s so hard for you to sit here even on bi-weekly Sunday dinners and play nice with your dad.

Your food suddenly loses taste when your dad sends an evil smile your way, your stomach rolling.

They don’t understand that you’ve taken their beatings, that you’ve suffered horrid treatment just so they wouldn’t have to.

“Either way, we don’t care. I think we’d be better off without you if I’m honest. All you do is mope and complain, you wouldn’t even have half the shit you do if it wasn’t for dad. He’s not the monster you make him out to be.” 

Your older brother cut them glares, “Enough! You don’t speak for this entire table, find somewhere else to be.” They scamper off, your brother doesn’t even give your dad the time of day, he looks at you immediately. 

“Go take a walk, Bebo.” He’s the only one of them that likes you, the only out of three siblings that actually knows you, that knows what this is doing to you and you’re grateful for it. 

Mama sparks into heavy, brash Urdu, all of it aimed at your father who more than deserves it- these are his spawn. 

You try to think through your feelings, try to sort them into neat and tidy boxes but it just winds you. 

You can't take deep breaths, they’re all shallow and sharp. Your chest aches, a concave feeling to it as you worry about the sharpness of your breath. It only worsens your ability, your breathing even shallower and you can’t seem to stop the cycle. 

You reach for your phone, pulling up a breathing video and trying your best to follow it, your breathing evening the longer you follow along. 

When you can inhale fully, you call Remus. You need him. 

He picks up on the second ring, “Hi, dovey. Everything okay?” 

“I think I should’ve let you come.” Your voice sounds ragged, like you need to cry and Remus’ skin prickles. He wishes he was there too. 

“Need me to come up there?” You debate it, you really do, and maybe if you didn’t feel like such a shitty person right now you would’ve said ‘no,’ but you need Remus and his sound mind and advice. 

“It’s a thirty minute drive.” you say, hearing things rustling in the back and Remus moves the phone from his mouth as he calls to someone. 

“I’m heading out, text me if you need anything.” Then the phone is closer. “Just had to tell Siri and Jamie. I’m on my way, princess.” 

“Drive safely, Remmy.” you sound so sad, Remus wishes he could just apparate to you now. 

“I’ll see you soon, baby. Stay somewhere safe, yeah.”

Tears gather in your eyes at how easily Remus could tell that you were frightened, that you’re in need of some place soft to land. God, you can’t wait for him to be here. 

The front door opens, your older brother coming out on the porch with a heavy sigh. 

“You have to tell them Bebo,” he says softly and you shake your head. 

“Why? So they can think I’m just lying to make him look bad. I’m okay with this arrangement.” 

Your brother takes a seat on the porch swing and pats a spot next to him. 

“Are you actually?” You inhale, thinking it over for a brief moment. 

“It hurts, of course it does. But I used to be mean too, this is them being mean back.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes, “It’s not like they’re ten. They’re sixteen and they’re horrid.” You take your spot next quickly- like if you chance a slow moment the tears will come. 

“But just to me. You get to be the best sibling they have, while I’m the problem black sheep sibling who can’t help but be macabre.” 

“You’re not macabre. You know you’re not. You just lived some dark shit to spare them and it’s time to stop. They can handle it.” You wish you could do it, it might make things easier, but you’re scared. 

“Maybe next time, it’s too charged in there now.” You sigh, head touching the back of the swing. “Do you think I’ll ever have their love?” The tears stream down your cheeks anyway as you think about the idea, as you hear their words rattle around your head. 

Your brother sighs hard, not sure if your siblings would ever wake up from your dad’s spell. Instead of saying anything, he guides your head to his shoulder. “Take a nap, Bebo.” 

“Remus is coming soon. Would you wake me when he gets here?”

“‘Course, Bebo.”

Your grandmother comes out right after you fall asleep, touching your sticky cheek with a weathered hand. 

“They’ll break her, you know. They’ll break her spirit and she won’t hold back anymore.” She sounds sad, like she can see it happening already.

“Mama, she won’t break.”  your brother says, reaching for her but she bats him away. 

“She’s not like you. You brush it off, she can’t. It weighs her heart. Every time she leaves here she looks so sad, so heavy and cracked. I can’t see her crack again, do you remember it?” 

Tears fall down her cheeks, but she doesn’t try to wipe them, she just stares at your sleeping form. 

Your brother sighs, leaning on her shoulder as she sits on his other side. “I remember,” he says quietly, the memories of you being withdrawn dancing behind his eyes. “Her boyfriend is coming here.”

“Really?” She asks and your brother nods. 

“She told me to wake her up when he gets here.” 

Mama smiles, “I’m glad she called him.” 

Remus arrives about forty minutes later, your brother sitting beside you about to shake your shoulder when Remus steps out of the car and shakes his head. 

“Let her sleep a little,” your brother’s confused by his request. 

“She asked me to wake you when you get here.” 

Remus smiles despite his anger. He’d stewed all the way to your dad’s house, wondering if you’d be hurt, if you’d not find a quiet place and the argument would keep going. 

He didn’t know what he was walking into, and finding you asleep is much more welcome than the sadder visions of his brain. 

“Would you tell me what it’s all about? Or what sparked it all today?” 

Remus sits on the floor near the foot of the swing, his hand holding onto your ankle as he looks to your brother. 

It’s clear to him, your brother, that Remus cares about you. His eyes haven’t strayed from you for more than thirty seconds, always coming back to rove over your face like he’s making sure you’re still there and still okay. 

Your brother hesitates- he’s never spoken about this with someone outside of the family. “They have warped perceptions of her; our younger brother and sister. They think she’s ungrateful and just doesn’t come home to get dad riled up- she doesn’t come home because they don’t know what she’s done so they didn’t have to get the dad we got.” 

Remus frowns harder, his thumb rubbing a circle on your ankle. 

“And she doesn’t want to tell them?” There’s no judgement in his tone, just curiosity. 

Your brother shakes his head. “She doesn’t think they’d believe her at this point. I’m always trying to talk her into it, but I think it runs a bit too deep to dredge up just like that.” 

Remus nods, eyes fixated on you as you sleep. “Will she want to tell them goodbye?” 

Your brother smiles, “If you leave without meeting our grandma, I think she’ll never forgive you for leaving without her ice cream.” 

Remus laughs, nodding as he stands. 

“You should wake her up first, I’ll go tell Mama you’re here.” Remus waits till your brother walks off into the house to sit beside you. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but sometime later you feel Remus’ hand on your cheek, thumb a little calloused as it rubs at the apple. 

Only he wakes you up this gently. 

“Princess, wake up. Miss your face.” 

“Hey,” your eyes peel open slowly, a little smile spreading on your face. 

Remus’ smile is small, but not forced. He could never do that with you looking up at him- especially with your sleepy eyes. 

“Was the drive okay?” 

He chuckles, it’s belated that you notice you’re alone with him on your front porch. Your brother’s car is still parked outside and so is your grandmother’s. 

“Yeah it was, pretty girl.” 

Remus kisses your forehead, his hand holding your face even though it’s a little sticky with your dried tears. 

“Your brother went to get Mama.” He says softly, letting you twist your body so you were leaning into him. Your entire front body was pressing against his ribs. 

“I’m so tired, Remmy.” Your voice cracks as you speak, Remus can’t bear it. He hates it that you’re this sad. 

“I know baby,” his words are whispered into your hairline, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he feels the quiet tears soak his shirt. “We don’t have to stay here any longer than you want to.” 

You sniffle and nod, letting Remus pull you further into his lap so he can hold you. 

“This is Mama,” you hear your brother’s voice and the light steps of your grandmother and then feel Remus lean forward. You assume he wanted you off his lap, but his hand anchors your hip to his as he shakes the older woman’s hand. 

“Remus.” He introduces himself and she smiles. 

“You’re handsome,” you laugh when you catch Remus’ cheeks flushing. “I have your ice cream here, Bebo. He won’t come out, locked himself away in his office.” 

You shrug, “Doesn’t matter. I’m ready to go.” Remus nods, taking the tub of ice cream for you, letting you climb off his lap before standing. 

“Give me two minutes, baby.” You kiss his jaw as you go, the car keys in your hand.

“She’ll be okay right?” 

Your brother smiles at Remus, Mama frowns. 

“She’s a fighter.” He says but Mama shakes her head. 

“She might not have any more fight left in her.” 

Remus knows what she means to say. He remembers how Sirius had been, the brave faces and attitude to hide how sad he was. He looks at the car and spots you with your head against the glass. 

“Just be patient with her.” Mama says and Remus nods.  “She’ll tell you everything soon enough. She looks at you like you individually hung the stars.” 

Remus blushes again, not really knowing what to say. 

Your older brother pats his shoulder and goes inside, “I think I’ll head out too.” He goes to his car, but not before stopping at Remus’ and giving you a kiss to your forehead. 

Remus frowns, “Does everyone disperse after they fight like this?” He asks your grandmother, not wanting to push but trying to understand. 

“Bebo can’t take more of this, you’ll see. I set him straight, he leaves her alone for months and then starts over. It’s like a cat and a mouse- always prodding and slapping and poking until the mouse has had enough.” 

“And the mouse does what when they’ve had enough?” 

Mama smiles, like she’s holding out just a sliver of hope that it will happen. “Revolt.” 

Remus gives her a hug and makes his way to the car. 

As soon as he opens the door, you smile. Tired lines all over your face as your eyes barely open. 

“Wanna stay over?” You ask, cheek smushed to your shoulder as you look at Remus. 

“How abouts you come over to mine? I’ve got fluffy blankets,” Remus kisses that spot where your forearm and upper arm meet. “Oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies,” a kiss to your shoulder, right on the beauty mark. “And I’ve got all your favourites on dvd.” 

The last kiss is right on the corner of your mouth, chaste and sweet and it makes you smile even more. 

“Sirius and James won’t mind?” 

Remus rolls his eyes, “They’ve gone on their own lover’s retreats today.” Wrong, Remus kicked them out the second he’d hung the phone with you. 

“Okay, but can we stop by my place to get my stuffy?” 

Remus chuckles, “Course we can, dovey. That way we’ll both have clothes at each other’s place.” 

You tut, clipping on your seatbelt as Remus turns over the engine. “You’re not getting your sweater back, Remus.” 

He only rolls his eyes as he pulls out of your dad’s yard, tipping his chin to the ice cream tub. “Will that be okay on the drive?” 

You nod, “Yeah, we can have some with the cookies tonight.” 

[chvoswxtch]

macchiato over ice for frankie 🥺 (the rest is up to you!) 🩵

you should know better than to unleash me & set me loose with my thots when it comes to frankie but you did it anyway & I love you for it

I just wanna talk about the fact that frank definitely talks you through it so let's discuss

as a reminder over ice means it's spicy! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

frank castle talks you through it

the first piece of evidence i'd like to submit to support this theory is how many times we hear him say "attagirl"

the rest of the evidence i'm submitting is just bc I fucking said so

maybe you know you have a praise kink, or maybe you figure it out the first time he whispers "attagirl" when you're about to come for him. maybe it's all just contingent on frank but he definitely does not miss the way you react to it, & he decides to experiment with just how much you like it

he starts testing the waters one night when he's got you pinned to the bed beneath him, fucking you slowly bc he's missed you & he wants to feel you wrapped around him as long as possible after weeks away

"feel so fuckin' good baby, so perfect for me."

the way your cunt clenches around his cock when he whispers that into your ear lets him know he's definitely onto something

the next time he tests his theory, he's got you on his lap with your back pressed against his chest, your legs spread wide open with your thighs draped over his, & his hand in your panties, kissing your neck sensually while rubbing your clit with his thumb & slowly fingering you with his index & middle finger

"love how wet you get for me, pretty girl. look at you, makin' such a mess on my fingers. that feel good, baby, hm?"

frank enjoys praising you just as much as you enjoy receiving it. any chance he gets to worship you & your body he's absolutely going to take advantage of

he wants you to know how pretty he thinks you are, how perfect he thinks you are for him, how good you make him feel, how much he loves every single inch of you inside & out, how lucky he feels to get to be the one that gets to come home to you

he's got his head buried between your thighs, his rough hands gripping them tightly to keep them over his shoulders, his cock rock hard in his jeans at the way you're rolling your hips against his face & chanting his name to the heavens

he pauses only for a moment, just to get a good look at you above him, his voice rough with pure desire when he speaks

"taste so fuckin' sweet, baby. you gonna be a good girl and come for me?"

the way you moan when he calls you a good girl for the first time & how your fingers tighten their grip on his dark hair makes his lips split in a huge grin of pride

"yeah you are. that's my good girl. c'mon baby, let me have it."

he doesn't even bother trying to hide that he's gotten you all figured out now, & you sure as hell don't mind either. you look forward to hearing his praise every time the two of you are intimate. it doesn't just get you aroused, it also makes you feel good about yourself. it makes you see yourself the way frank sees you, even if only for a little while

frank is in heaven when he watches you writhe on top of him, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm as you ride him. his hands are everywhere, not an inch of your skin left untouched. they're gliding up your soft thighs, gripping your hips tightly, grabbing your breasts & squeezing them, wrapping his hand around your throat in a way that makes your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head

all the while he's gazing up at you like you're the most beautiful fucking thing he's ever seen, bc you are, & all he wants to do is please you

"attagirl, just like that. god, you take me so well, sweetheart. look so fuckin' pretty ridin' my cock like this. want you to come for me, sweetheart. c'mon...you can do it, baby...I know ya can. you're such a good girl for me, yeah? c'mon pretty girl, come all over my cock for me."

when he feels your pussy start to clench around his cock, he knows he's about to witness the most magnificent sight of you getting overwhelmed with gratification. gripping onto your waist tightly, he starts to thrust upwards to match your pace, desperately wanting to watch you fall apart above him

"attagirl, there we go. that's it...that's fuckin' it, baby...just like that. c'mon pretty girl, ride me harder. you're so close, yeah? I know baby, I know...I can feel it. c'mon, be a good girl for me and come."

frank doesn't stop just because the two of you are finished and spent. when he's got you wrapped up in his arms, relaxing in the afterglow, he's still whispering soft & sweet praises into your ear

"you were so good, baby. always so good for me. my girl...my perfect, pretty girl. love you so goddamn much, ya know that, right?"

in conclusion I need to be put down like a rabid dog

[mydadleft471]

An Ailing Heart, A Shimmering Soul

Summary: Another Tarnished invades the Shadow Keep and Messmer takes care of them. But something seems off this time. You comfort him when he is most vulnerable.

Spoilers, per usual, for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. Warnings for descriptions of violence and a slight amount of spice wink wonk ;D (I've never wrote anything spicy please go easy on my ass, I'm so down bad)

I had two requests, one from the lovely @asianbutnotjapanese and the other from anonymous, and I thought they'd go so well together! I'll link the posts here and here! Thank you both for the requests! I love writing comfort for this lanky man.

As always, thank you for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting! It makes my day every single time!

Another Tarnished had invaded the Shadow Keep today. This one made it to Messmer himself. Many others found themselves terribly outmatched by his many knights and guards.

You waited patiently in Messmer’s chamber for him to return victorious, just as he had done a multitude of times before. Fiddling with your hands, you tried to drown out the screams and thudding from the room adjacent to Messmer’s, but your thoughts did little to distract you. Your mind wandered, as it always did in these moments: would he come back from this fight?

You shook your head. Of course he would. He was a mighty demigod with more than his mother’s wishes to fight for now. He had you. It was something he whispered into your hair when you lay huddled against his massive form in his bed. You were drifting on the very edge of sleep when his voice, silky and smooth, cut through the silence.

“I will return to thee, beloved consort. This I shall promise.”

Your heart had flipped in your chest. You knew he meant it and he never went back on his word.

The large door creaking open interrupted the sweet memory. Pushing yourself off the bed, you stepped timidly until Messmer came into view.

Blood adorned his chest like rubies and his eye was glued to the floor. He had left his spear in the previous room.

You hurry towards him. “Are you hurt?” You grab his hands and clutch them tightly.

“Merely scratched and covered in blood that is not my own.” He sounds tired.

Carefully, you lead him over to his ornate washroom. He doesn’t say anything as you pull him behind you like dead weight. Even his serpents stay still as they’re perched on his shoulders. Dropping his hands, you hurry to grab some bath salts he likes and a fluffy towel. You turn the faucet and the tub begins to fill with warm water. Pouring some of the salts in and swirling them around, the room begins to smell sweetly of jasmine and vanilla. 

Looking back at your lover, you notice that he watches you tiredly. His eye droops and he doesn’t stand as tall as usual.

“Do you need help taking your armor off?” He merely nods in response, so you get to work.

You stretch your arms up to take off his helmet and he bows his head. You set it on the table behind you and comb your fingers through some of the rebellious strands of red. Carefully raising the cloak he wears, you allow the serpents to wiggle out of it before undoing the clasp and letting it fall to the floor behind him. Moving around him, you work on the various buckles on his armor and before long, it joins his cloak in a bloody, crumpled heap. 

“Come, my love,” you call out to him and his eye shimmers in response. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You take his hand and gently guide him into the bath, letting him go as slowly as he needs to. Once he settles into the warm water, he lets out a sigh of relief. You tilt his head back and pour water over his hair, just as you have done many times before. It’s become a daily thing to wash his hair and body. He loves the tenderness in every touch you lay upon him.

You begin to massage some of his favorite shampoo into his fiery locks. You take your time ensuring his scalp has been thoroughly washed and thread your fingers through the tips of his hair. He shudders and shivers in pleasure. 

You want to ask what’s wrong. He’s come back from fights exhausted and worried, but he’s never looked so dejected. Perhaps the fight was too close for his liking? When you took off his armor minutes earlier, you hadn’t seen any new bruises or wounds on his body, so that couldn’t be it. The Tarnished that came to his Keep enraged him, sure, especially if they had hurt any of his men, but they had never made him like this.

“Messmer?” His eye opens slightly. “What’s bothering you?”

“Whatever dost thou mean?” His voice is dejected and quiet.

“Did something happen during your fight?” You tilt his head back and wash the shampoo from his hair.

“‘Tis nothing. Thou needn’t worry.”

You sigh. “I thought we talked about this, about being open with each other. If something is bothering you, I want to help.”

He reaches for your hand and you gladly give it to him. He turns it over in his hand, seemingly marveling at how small yours is compared to his. He kisses your knuckles and moves your hand so you cup his cheek.

“That Tarnished held the belief that I was keeping thee prisoner here.” 

Your mouth hangs open. “Prisoner? My love, no! I’m happy here.”

“They did not thinkest so. Perhaps they imagined themself a protector, like I.”

“Messmer,” you make him look at you. “I stay here because I want to. I stay here because I love you. Okay?”

“I had never felt rage such as that. I lost myself.” He admits.

“I’d be angry too. It’s okay.”

He lets out a shuddering breath and a golden tear streaks its way down his pale cheek. You reach out to brush it away.

“I do not deserve thee, beloved. I am naught but a cursed monster.”

“You are so much more than that. I don’t care if you’re cursed.” You pull away from him and pour a generous amount of conditioner into your hands. You gently apply it to his hair. 

“You make me truly happy. I hope you know that.” You whisper those words into his ear.

“I shall try to remember that.”

You wash away the conditioner and wrap your arms around his shoulders, not caring about how the water soaks through your clothes. He grabs one of your hands and holds it. You lay a light kiss on his neck and he shudders again.

“Do you want me to wash your body, my love?” You ask into his hair.

“Please.”

“Okay.” You smile and unwind yourself from him.

You gather some soap and begin to lather it on his shoulders. You take your time and even knead out some of the knots in his back as you go. He lets out small gasps and you can see that his ears are a bright red almost rivaling his hair. You raise his arms from the water and squeeze his arms, feeling his muscles. He shoots you a look and you quickly look away, continuing to wash him as he requested. You tilt his head back, sweetly sweeping your hands across his neck and travel down to his collarbones, giving them the same treatment as the rest of his body.

“I ask thee stop this teasing.” His eye is screwed shut.

“Oh shush. You like this.”

“Perhaps.” You smirk.

Continuing down his body, you lather his chest in soap and delicately make your way to his stomach. He visibly tenses at this and you shoot him a puzzled look.

“Thou’rt cruel indeed. Continuing may force my hand.” He warns you, his eye shimmering a bright gold.

Oh. Oh.

As much as you would love to indulge in him, right now he needs comfort. You nod, face blushing as red as his, and you begin to wash away any remaining bubbles kissing his skin. Grabbing a fluffy towel, you wordlessly hand it to him and he stands. You tear your gaze away from him as he dries off and try to keep your thoughts decent. You go fetch his favorite robe from his chambers and grab his brush from where it sits on his bedside table. 

When you return, he’s sitting on the plush chair in front of the large vanity he had made for you. You offer him his robe and turn around, waiting for him to dress himself. He clears his throat and you turn around.

“Would you let me do your hair tonight?”

“If it would make thee happy.”

“Always. I love taking care of you.” That earns you a loving smile.

You begin to brush away any tangles he has, but since you’ve been giving his hair regular maintenance, it’s become easier to manage. The bristles gently scratch against his scalp and he lets out a pleased hum. You have such a lovable demigod.

Once you’ve ensured his hair is soft and smooth, you part his hair down the middle. You can see him watching you in the mirror. 

“I think you would look stunning in braids.”

He shakes his head. “Braids are intended for nobility and those with honor.”

“You’re a demigod, my love.”

He opens his mouth to say something but he stops when he sees you standing behind him with your hands on your hips, daring him to refuse you. “There is no sense in arguing with thee, it seems.”

“You are correct.” He rolls his eye. You were so stubborn.

Staring on the left side, you take three small strands and delicately weave them together. His hair is easy to work with and within a few minutes, you have a tiny braid.

You hold out your finished work. “Hold this, please.” He does as you ask, and you almost chuckle at the sight of him concentrating on keeping it pinched between his fingers.

Moving to the right side, you do the exact same thing. Strands of red dance in and out and soon, you have another braid. You admire your work.

You take the first braid from him with a small thank you and carefully lay them down on his head, making them join at the ends. It creates an oval-like shape and emits an air of importance. You grab a small hand-held mirror from the table in front of him and give it to him. He stands and faces away from the vanity, repositioning the tiny mirror so he could see the beautiful, yet simple, job you did. He eye crinkles and he seems to like it.

“Thou hast done a wonderful job. I thank thee, beloved.” 

You take the small mirror from him and return it to the vanity table. You gesture for him to sit, which he does without protest.

“Your serpents deserve braids too.” He chuckles and his companions look at you with wide eyes.

You open the drawer of the vanity and pull out two tiny braids made from some fabric. You had been practicing with these so your braids would look perfect.

The serpents come closer and you gently lay the strand of fabric on them. They shake a little at first, then flick their tongues excitedly.

“I think they look handsome, don’t you think, Messmer?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “They look quite ridiculous.” The serpents hiss.

You gently pat them both and they nuzzle into your touch. “Don’t listen to him. You both look wonderful.”

In truth, they did look a little silly, but they seemed proud to wear braids like their master.

“Thou always tends to my ailing soul, beloved.” He kisses the top of your head.

“Proud to serve, my Lord.” He rolls his eye at the use of his title.

He scoops your hands up in his and gazes into your eyes tenderly. “I shall say it now for fear that thou dost not realize: thou art free. Wherever thy soul wishes to roam, thou mayest go. I only request that thou returnest to me safe.”

You shake your head. This man. You lean up on your tiptoes and he bridges the gap, placing a loving kiss on your lips. There is no rush, no fight for dominance, just the both of you existing in the same space. Your hearts swell in admiration for one another.

There is nowhere else you’d rather be.

[the-travelling-witch]

summary: a pouty demon has become part of your nighttime routine

pairing: mammon x gn!reader

warnings: fluff with mentions of insecurities (skin/appearance related)

obey me! masterlist

“Babe, how much longer are ya goin’ to take?” Mammon whined from behind you, his pout reflecting in the large bathroom mirror.

“I’ve only just finished with cleansing.” Turning off the faucet, you gently dabbed a towel over your face, watching the demon with affectionate eyes. “But everything else shouldn’t take too long.”

“Why d’ya have to do all of this anyway?” Apparently not content with your answer, he stepped closer to you and cut himself off with a yawn. “Just come to bed.”

You’d think that, as a model, Mammon would understand the importance of skincare but, to your annoyance, he was one of those guys who seemingly splashed their face with water and still had the perfect complexion.

Could demons also be god’s favourites? One glance over his shirtless form definitely swayed your answer towards ‘yes’.

“No, this is important. Especially if you keep sitting me down for a bowl of spicy late-night ramen,” you sighed. By now, Mammon had closed the gap between the two of you, his arms comfortably circled around your waist and his cheek squished against the top of your head. “Besides, I finally want to be free of these blemishes and look good too.”

Immediately, Mammon stood straight and held you a little tighter. The angelic eyes looking at you through the mirror were earnest and genuine as he spoke with a bewildered tone, almost as if what you had said never occurred to him.

“But yer already so pretty! How could ya get any more stunnin’ than this?”

That was what you loved about him. Despite his usually tsundere behaviour, he never failed to compliment you with his entire heart behind it. Having someone so sincerely tell you you were beautiful, while you wore an old shirt of his as pyjama, had no makeup on and had your insecurities out in the open like this, it made you start believing it too.

A thought that was kinda terrifying.

But you had no time to go teary-eyed or worry about whether you were starting to become too conceited or delusional. Not with this demon around. Before you could say something, Mammon had already swooped down, snowy hair obscuring part of your vision, and planted a sweet kiss onto your cheek. Both the surprise of his action and the visual of his face scrunched up in disgust as he tasted the toner on his lips made you laugh, shushing the voices in your head.

“That one’s on you, I already told you not to do that when I’m doing my routine,” you giggled. Then, you twisted in his hold and returned an equally affectionate kiss to his cheek. “Thank you so much though. Hearing that means a lot.”

“Don’t look at me like that! Just hurry up, so we can go to bed!” Though he averted his eyes, you could still feel the heat radiating off his face and you suppressed another laugh. He really was too cute for his own good.

Even though he’d complained a lot about the lengthiness of your little ritual, he still attentively watched you work, offering his concerns about the colour of a hot pink serum (“Should ya really be puttin’ that on yer face?”) and having his eyes nearly pop out of their sockets when you casually mentioned one of your creams could bleach clothes or hair.

“Well, good thing your hair is already white and you’re already shirtless,” you joked as you finished putting on your moisturiser before turning and looping your arms around his neck. “Because I plan to cuddle you all-night long.”

“Ya’d better! Yer the only human who’d ever make me, the Avatar of Greed, wait, ya know,” Mammon huffed. Contradictory to his words, he had already swooped you up princess-style and set off towards the bedroom.

“Mhm and I am so glad you were generous enough to give me so much of your time. Maybe this,” you put a hand over his heart as he gently lowered you onto the mattress, “is made out of gold after all.”

“Now yer just bein’ cheesy,” Mammon snorted as he crawled under the black sheets with you and pulled you close, the same way a tide would always reach for the shore again and again. “Ya should get some rest before ya say somethin’ even more stupid.”

“But I was just about to confess to the best thing that ever happened to me,” you hummed. When he sceptically raised an eyebrow, you looked him deep in the eyes and smiled. “I love you, Mammon.”

For a fraction of a second his eyes widened in shock before he shut them tightly as he inhaled. When he opened them again, he mirrored your fond smile as a slender finger traced the side of your face.

“I love ya too, treasure.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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[thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos]

Leave the Door Open nsfw

Bayverse Donnie x female reader

a very spicy and sweet one-shot

Turtles and reader are in their late 20s-early 30s

warnings below the cut

18+ content - Minors DNI

warnings: human/turtle relations, mentions alcohol, swearing, smut, fingering, oral, p in v, begging, fluff at the end

based on the song : Leave the Door Open, Silk Sonic

other songs to listen to while reading:

auction, sasha keable, destin conrad

lucid girl, three sacred souls

someday, greek

You sat in the lair living room with everyone watching a movie, trying to relax after a long and grueling week at work, but it was growing increasingly difficult as you felt a hazel set of eyes watching you from the corner of the room.

The hairs on the back of your neck tingled as his gaze lingered over you uninterrupted, his brothers and Splinter too preoccupied with the movie to pay any attention. Donnie sat the farthest away from you, which you were initially grateful for, when the flick had first started. It had been harder lately to control your thoughts around him, to stop yourself from dipping into deeper waters.

You thought back to last weekend's movie night, when he had bumped into you in the hall outside of his room. He had caught you so off guard on your way out of the bathroom, the sudden jerk of your body careening backwards would've been embarrassing...if he hadn't caught you in his arms.

A look of surprise had been plastered on his handsome face, and as he leaned over you his glasses had slipped a little down his snout, but he didn't move to push them back into place. The two of you were frozen in time inches away from each other, the feel of being in his arms making you a little breathless. You had felt the blush creep over your cheeks as he held you in place, his firm muscles taut against your body. Donnie pulled you to him a little more, pressing you into his plastron. His head had started a lean in to yours, but he'd stopped himself and stood you back up on two feet before heading back to his room. You were left, chest-heaving and confused in the hall.

A loud explosion from the screen brought you back to the present.

"He's your friend. Quit it."

You chided yourself as you tried to ignore the feel of his eyes on you. It had been years of knowing the turtles, and years of daydreaming that Donatello would finally notice you. You knew it was a one-sided crush, and hopefully you would get over it someday, but you couldn't risk your friendship in the meantime. Even if he was all you thought about. Even if his gaze was making you hope.

As the group laughed at a funny moment in the movie, you couldn't help yourself as your eyes flicked to him.

He wasn't even watching the movie.

The smile still warmed your face as you made eye contact, his golden eyes sparking in the glow of the lights on the screen. A smirk spread across his lips as he leaned deeper into his chair, still observing you.

As he lifted his glass of scotch to his lips, a tingle shot through your spine while he continued to watch you over the rim of his cup. Donnie rose from his chair, mumbling about a refill, and left the room. Leo nodded, not looking away from the screen at the action scene playing out. Your phone went off a few moments later.

D: Are you enjoying the movie?

You smiled at the small screen in your hand and responded.

Y: It's okay, not my favorite. Why?

D: You seem distracted.

Heat erupted in your face as you read his text. Holy shit. You quickly glanced to his brothers to make sure you didn't have an audience.

Y: So do you.

D: I might be.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you fought back a squeal. You weren't sure where this was coming from, but you were so. damn. happy. Before you could text back, he sent another message that shot an urgent, gnawing heat to your core.

D: I left my door open, if you'd like to find out why.

"Where you goin', shortstack?"

Raph called over to you as you had tried to quickly and quietly sneak out of the living room.

Frickin' ninjas, noticing everything.

"The bathroom. Don't worry about pausing the movie though, I'm not super invested." You laughed over your shoulder at him, walking as casually as possible while your heart was going a mile a minute. Raph shrugged and turned back to the screen, and the guys continued without you. As you rounded the corner hallway with Donnie's room in it, you heard a song filtering into the hall.

I ain't playin' no games, every word That I say is coming straight from the heart, So if you tryna lay in these arms

I'ma leave the door open

A smile blossomed over your lips as you walked into his room and shut the door behind you. Donnie was leaning over his desk, looking at something when he had heard you and turned, smiling back as you leaned on his door. He had shed his gear and was clad only in his favorite joggers that rode deliciously low on his hips, that you loved and stolen many glances at when you were sure that he wasn't paying attention. His eyes gleamed against the purple lights of his room, hidden only slightly behind his glasses and mask.

He was so handsome, you thought.

"Hey."

You let out a nervous breath.

"Hey yourself."

Donnie leaned back against his desk and let his eyes drag over your face, searching for something.

"Nice song."

He smirked at you.

"I didn't know how much more obvious I could get."

You blinked in surprise at him from the door, confused. He shook his head and chuckled lowly before looking at you again and crooking a finger at you.

You moved slowly, still so sure it was a dream, and you would wake up on the couch any moment.

Donnie noticed your hesitation and extended a long arm to you and took your hand in his, pulling you close to him. His other hand pressed against your lower back, firm and sure. You lifted a hand to his plastron, gently touching the plates on his chest, still not sure this was real but savoring every moment. You flicked your gaze up to his, and he smiled down at you.

That you feel the way I feel And you want me like I want you tonight, baby Tell me that you're coming through

He let go of your hand and drew his up to your face as the song played in the background, and Donnie tilted your chin upwards as he leaned down to you, his face so close to yours.

"Can I- kiss you?"

His voice was husky as he breathed his question over your lips, skin just barely brushing over yours. Your response tumbled out of you.

"Please, yes Donnie. God yes-"

Donnie's lips crashed into yours, all the want and need bottled up for years released in one moment. His kisses were firm and passionate, and a soft moan rumbled from his chest when your tongue entwined with his and deepened the kiss.

His hands left your face and trailed down to your hips, gripping them tightly and pulling you in closer to his body as his tongue danced with yours. You were adrift in desire, practically vibrating with want as he kissed you and kissed you.

Donnie kissed you once more before ducking his head down to your neck, kissing and nipping a trail of bites before you were melting into him, pleading.

"Donnie, please-"

Not stopping his torture, he lifted you up into his arms, hand gripping underneath your ass and walked you to his bed in the corner, laying you gently down as he followed closely.

Gazing down at you, he smiled at how lust-drunk and glazed over your eyes looked. He kissed you again, savoring the way your soft lips felt against his. You hummed softly, small hands sliding along his shoulders and arms as he slotted over you. Another gush of want dripped from you as you felt him shift, and felt him rub against you.

Donnie paused, drawing back from you slightly and nostrils flaring. His eyes were blown black, almost all traces of hazel gold gone.

"Fuck," He swore under his breath.

He rubbed his face, and let out a shaky breath. You lifted a hand to his cheek, rubbing the skin with your thumb, and he leaned into your palm and closed his eyes.

"We- we don't have to, Donnie. Don't get me wrong, I want to...I just don't want you to if you're not ready or want to or-"

"That's not-." He interrupted you, eyes flicking open and locking with yours. "I just wanted to make sure you were sure."

You nodded, smiling. He smirked back at you.

"And I needed a second, because you smell so good I was close to ripping your clothes off."

You gasped, unbelieving that Donatello of all people just said the filthiest thing you'd ever heard. Your sweet, quiet Donnie. Before you could comment on it, he kissed you again, his tongue scrubbing over yours in the most erotic kiss of your life.

In moments you were panting and breathless again, the want and hunger gnawing deep inside as lips and tongues crashed and met together like waves on the shore. His hand began roaming over your body, tracing lines like tracks over your ribs and hips.

Donnie ducked his head again to your neck, kissing and nibbling while his finger teased circles at the skin beneath the hem of your shirt. You breathed out his name in a trembling whine.

"Can I take this off?" He tugged at your shirt gently.

You whimpered softly, nodding and pressing your hips against him. He grunted low.

"Careful."

Donnie helped you sit up, sitting back on his heels and slinking a hand around your back as he lifted your shirt up. He huffed at the bra underneath, and as you laughed, he ripped the offending material in half.

"Donnie!"

"I'll buy you a new one." He purred in your ear as he laid you back down. His breath at your ear melted more sensations down to your core, tingling along your spine.

Donnie looked at you in the glow of his purple lights, your eyes gleaming back at him with hunger. His gaze lowered to your breasts, beautiful mounds of flesh just waiting for his attention. His hand gently squeezed one, then the other, pulling a soft whimper from you.

He moved to lay back down next to you, sliding a leg over yours as he grazed a pad of a finger over a nipple and watched you writhe in pleasure. Bending his head down, he flicked his tongue over the mound closest to him, sliding over the firm nipple and ripping a choked gasp from your throat.

"Don-nie-"

"Yes?" He looked up lazily, too lost in lust himself.

"Plea-se. Donnie-"

"Please, what?"

"I need you, Donnie. Please."

Your pleas did not go unanswered. A dark look glazed over his eyes as he lifted up and lowered himself to your bottoms, pulling them down with one hand. You were left on the bed in your panties.

He leaned down over your abdomen, kissing lower and lower, before changing direction and palming your thighs open. You watched as he placed kisses up the inside of your thighs, stopping just before nearing your center. You wanted to scream. You wiggled your hips as he got close to you again on the other leg, and he shot you a dark look.

"Impatient, are we?"

Smirking, he finally brought his attention to your aching center, already slick and ready and wet through the cloth. He bent his head to you, breathing in deeply and closing his eyes. You could hear a low rumble as he opened them again and looked at you, desire evident in his features.

"You smell so fucking good."

He pulled your panties off, throwing them somewhere, and laid back down in between your legs and hooked an arm under your hip, pulling you closer to him. In a moment you felt his breath against you, the heat of it making your toes curl.

His first swipe over your clit with his tongue made you jolt into him, moaning openly. You wouldn't last long.

He swirled over your clit slowly, in agonizing circles of his wide, flat tongue. You could feel your entire body buzzing with pleasure and want, so needy for Donnie to push you over that edge. Your fingers clawed at his skin as he worked, earning pleased hums from the terrapin.

As you felt him lap at you and the orgasm on the horizon grow closer, Donnie circled a finger at your entrance and pushed into you. You bit back a scream, still aware of his family in the next room, but barely hanging on to your sanity. His digit was thick in itself, and the burn and stretch felt amazing as he finger-fucked you.

"Hnngg-"

Your eyes rolled back into your head, and Donnie smirked into your sex. He lifted his head for a moment, and arched his finger against your g-spot as he spoke.

"Are you doing all right?"

"Do-nniee, pl-easse-"

"Are you sure?" He asked as he shimmied out of his pants and kicked them off, leaving himself exposed against the bed.

"Ple-ease fuck me-e, Don-nie-" you panted in between thrusts of his hand, trying to maintain your composure.

"Yes, ma'am."

He pulled his hand from you, licking his finger clean and shuddering. As Donnie rose up to align himself, you glimpsed his beautiful thighs and hips rising like a mountain, making a mental note to kiss them later. He stroked himself along his length, thick and stunning in the purple lights, as he lined up with you and rubbed over your clit again with the head of his dick. The thrumming buzz of want pooled in your stomach as you watched him, drunk in the display.

He slotted himself back over you, gripping your hip with one hand as he pressed into you. A strangled gasp escaped as you forgot how to breathe. He was just so big, and you could feel him in the back of your throat.

Donnie slowly rocked back and forth, gently pressing further into you until you finally felt the edge of his plastron at your abdomen. He kissed your temple, and it took a second before you realized he was speaking.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded, shifting your hips and adjusting to feeling so full.

He kissed you, gently at first, then more urgently as his length started to stroke in and out of you.

You could feel the edge of pleasure build back up as his pace quickened, pumping his thick cock into you as you mewled into his shoulder. He gripped his headboard tight as he shifted his hold on your hips so you were looking at each other, the fucked-out look on your face the most beautiful thing in the world to him.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous. I want you to come on my cock, baby. Please."

Donnie shifted his hips again and pounded into you deeper than before, tipping the edge and crashing your orgasm like waves over you as you screamed his name.

Watching you come on his dick sent him over his own peak, moaning as he arched into you, pleasure so intense that he had to steady himself against the headboard above you as he came down from his high.

As both of your bodies buzzed in the afterglow, he reached down and brushed a stray hair away from your face and smiled when you blinked hazily back him.

"Donnie?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I dreaming?"

He laughed, snorting a little, and let himself fall on top of you, showering you with kisses.

.

.

. Hope you liked it! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Let me know if you want to be tagged when I post new stuff!

[yxngbxkkie]

mornings with chan ✨

we've got 5/8 done for the mornings with series 🤭 i really enjoy doing these. this is fun! this one's a tad bit more spicy than the others, so i hope you guys enjoy!

feedback is appreciated 💖

~

Voices outside the room you're sleeping in wakes you, a short groan slipping from your lips. You bring a hand to your face, tiredly rubbing it as you turn to lay on your side. Your eyes flutter open, and you thank God that you're in Chan's room.

"Fuck, my head," you quietly complain, squeezing your eyes shut. You shove your face into the pillow before inhaling the lingering scent of your best friend.

"I have water here for you," Chan's morning voice reaches your ears and a shiver runs down your spine.

You lift your head, finding his gaze already on you. "Hi," you whisper, feeling a bit shy suddenly.

He laughs and the dimples in his cheeks show. "Hi," Chan mumbles while bringing his hand to your waist.

A gasp leaves your lips as the cool touch of his rings shock you. Wait… You peek under the covers, and your eyes widen at the sight of your naked body. You begin to panic, pushing Chan's hand away from you before wrapping the blanket around yourself.

You expose your best friend's body in the process and you shut your eyes, giving him some privacy. "Chan, what the fuck did we do?!" You ask as your skin grows warm.

"Well, since we're both not wearing clothes it's safe to assume we slept together," he sighs, moving to lay on his back after covering his lower half with the top sheet.

Your heart pounds against your chest, memories of last night slowly flooding your brain. The blush on your cheeks darkens the more you think about it, remembering the way his lips felt on your body.

"Y/N," Chan whispers, capturing your attention. "Do you regret it?"

You shake your head without hesitation as your fingers grip the blanket. "N-No, of course not. I mean -" you cut yourself off, starting to ramble. "I've always thought about sleeping with you. Who hasn't? You're…"

Chan grins before shuffling closer to you, the words you're about to say die on your tongue. He closes the distance between the two of you, his lips connecting with yours.

Your gasp becomes muffled as the kiss gets more passionate. A shiver runs down your spine as his ring cladded fingers brush along your bare skin.

"C-Chan," you stutter his name, pulling away from him slightly. He follows your lips, pressing multiple kisses onto them. "Chan-"

"Shh," he cuts you off. You look up at him through your lashes as your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Just let me kiss you a little longer."

You don't say anything else as Chan moves to rest his back against the headboard. He gives you a look while patting his lap, signaling for you to sit on him.

You swallow thickly, feeling a bit shy as you keep the blanket at your chest. You find yourself straddling his lap, feeling his member against your core.

"I-I'm nervous," you giggle while Chan trails his fingers along your thighs.

"We literally had sex last night," he laughs, leaning forward to press a kiss on your collarbone.

You groan, resting your forehead against his shoulder. "Yeah, but I was drunk. That's when I'm most confident, Channie," you tell him.

He continues trailing kisses along your chest, bringing one of his hands to the blanket you're clutching. You blow out a breath of air as he lowers the blanket, exposing your chest.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" Chan asks, pulling back to look at you.

You nod your head while he hooks a finger under your jaw, bringing you closer. He places the most delicate kiss on your lips, and you run your hands along his chest.

"I could wake up to this every day and never get tired of it," he confesses, grabbing a hold of one of your hands. "Would you?"

"Get tired of it?" You ask for clarification, a giggle leaving your lips. "I could never get tired of you, Channie."

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8

[cottonlemonade]

Hello, can I get a large mocha latte for Ushijima?

Celebrating An Anniversary

word count: 791 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip husband!Ushijima x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff with some suggestiveness

warnings: spoilers, mdni, mild swearing

request: fluffy-spicy, celebrating an anniversary with husband Ushijima

“To a wonderful evening.“

Wakatoshi raised his glass. You beamed as you did the same and gently clinked it against his.

The champagne prickled on your tongue and you watched him cut a generous first bite off his steak to then carefully place it on the side of your plate.

“Thank you, honey.“

He smiled, looking satisfied as he began to cut a piece for himself.

“You‘re welcome, sweetheart. And please make sure to order dessert later. You will need your energy as I intend to make love to you often and thoroughly tonight.“

You choked on your next sip of the sparkling wine. The coughing made some other guests turn around in annoyance but you stared incredulously at your husband who, completely unfazed, poured you a glass of water and handed it across the table.

“Uhm, Toshi?”

“Yes, my love?”

Your cheeks were burning and you were glad for the cold water, the glass slightly trembling in your fingers.

“What- I mean. What?”

He furrowed his brow in confusion.

“I mean… you usually don’t uhm… announce something like that.”

“Oh.”, he shrugged and went back to his steak, “I wanted to try something different.”

“Different.”

He nodded and didn’t elaborate.

“So, I'm not complaining - and I will get that dessert later - but what brought this on?”

“I called Satori for advice and he said I should be more open with my intentions towards you. He said that… hm, one moment, sweetheart.”

You watched open mouthed as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket that hung over the back of the chair and produced a neatly folded piece of paper. Opening it for reference as it seemed, he read, “Let her know she is desirable by flirting - such as: telling her she looks/smells nice, kissing her in public, letting her know that you can’t wait to be alone with her or - more advanced - let her know you want to sleep with her later that day.” He folded the note again and tucked it away.

Your cheeks were burning and the pasta you had been so eagerly anticipating a few minutes ago, still steamed expectantly but untouched on the plate before you.

Toshi had done all of these things today. Before you left for the restaurant he had complimented both how your dress fit beautifully around your chubby figure and your perfume, had caught you very off guard by kissing you deeply in the parking lot on your way to the door and now this.

“Uhm, could I see that paper for a second, please?“

“Of course.“

He reached back into the pocket and handed it to you.

Clearing your throat you opened it and were stunned by the amount of notes. At the very top were what seemed to be suggestions for date locations for your anniversary.

Toshi had circled “dinner at a fancy restaurant you know she likes“.

Underneath was a myriad of things to do after the date. Some of them sweet, like going for a stroll in the park, but the other 95 percent detailed things to do in the bedroom. All of them circled - some with extra notes next to it explaining what they meant exactly.

“I see.“, you croaked, returning the note. You felt very warm all of the sudden.

Voice shaking a little in your flustered state, you asked, “What brought this on?“

“Do you remember when I went out to have a drink with the team a few weeks ago?“

You nodded.

“At first we talked about volleyball and eventually Hoshiumi-kun moved the conversation to our spouses.“

You nodded again.

“At that point a group of strangers joined the table because nothing else was free. As we talked, they noted that Tobio and I didn't seem to have a lot to offer besides good looks and they wondered how we were even married, since we are so boring.“

You scoffed loudly.

“Oh, just point me in their direction, babe. It‘s on sight.“ How dare these pathetic losers! Your shoulders shook with anger.

“You are not boring, Toshi!“, you said firmly and he looked genuinely surprised at your sudden outburst, “You are loving and wonderful and dependable, you make me laugh and feel safe and if that‘s boring to those jerks then they can just go f- fly a kite!“ Suddenly remembering your surroundings you opted for milder words.

Toshi‘s large warm hand laid itself soothingly over your clenched fist next to your plate, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin.

“Thank you for saying that, sweetheart. I love you.“

“I love you, too.“

“Would you prefer if I‘d dismiss the list?“

“Well… maybe not all of it.“, you winked and he nodded, signaling over a waiter to order extra dessert.

a/n: thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write something for him! Love him ^^ I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

[vanillablankcanvas]

Headcanons - The Ultimate Combo!

Brozone - drastically changed their looks coz they hate that they used to dress the same.

Brozone - All the brothers definitely hold doors open for the ladies and then close it on John Dory.

Brozone - All of the brothers share habits and mannerisms without even realising. E.g. tapping their chin when they're thinking hard, cracking knuckles when they're about to really get into a project, tapping toes when anxious.

Brozone - they became world famous, argued and left BEFORE the cage went around the Pop Troll Tree. (Canon?)

Brozone - there was a rumoured 'unfinished' Brozone song that was supposed to be released after that tour. John finally finishes it and the brothers offer to sing it for Poppy's bridal entrance song. Poppy immediately faints. In my head the song is 'Helpless When She Smiles' by The Backstreet Boys

Brozone - whatever the Trolls equivalent of the Superbowl is, I feel like Bruce and JD would be very into it. Jerseys and face paint and everything.

Brozone - when the brothers weren't sure how to reconnect, they ended up playing rummy together.

Bruce - one of those dads who would get a new barbeque and show off all the cool features to the other local dads.

Bruce - "No kids, we're not keeping that stray animal, end of story, no way..." - 1 week later and he's giving it kisses and building it an over the top kennel with a heated blanket and a water fountain.

Bruce - (canon?) carried all their eggs, indirect reason why his hair is so big. (Side note - I read somewhere someone called all their kids 'The Bakers Dozen' and I frigging love that)

Bruce - absolutely gets into the trashiest reality TV shows. "If Alejandro doesn't confess his love in this episode I will flip this table"

Bruce - makes Troll cuisine for his kids

Bruce - there aren't any Troll sized clothing stores around so Bruce sometimes has to make his own clothes.

Bruce - has considered getting his kids hug time bracelets

Bruce - the restaurants kitchen is set up like in Ratatouille (ladders, ramps, bridges, pulley systems) for Bruce to navigate.

Bruce - keeps every one of his kids drawings, their refrigerator is absolutely covered in them.

Bruce - his go-to excuse is "I can't, I've got 13 college tuitions to save for."

Bruce - has given 'love coupons' to Brandy before

Bruce - theorizes that his daughter LaBreezy will be the one to take over the restaurant.

Bruce - tries developing and inventing his own recipes, Brandy has to remind him that not everyone can handle as much sugar as a Troll can. He reels it back a bit.

Bruce - makes specific food for different reasons. E.g. makes bread when he's angry so he can take it out on the dough, makes lasagnas so he can use the leftovers as an excuse to visit someone, makes spicy dishes when he wants revenge.

Bruce - cameras make him self-conscious. If he is in a group he can tolerate it but hates being the only one in the photo.

Bruce - has caught his kids trying to do the Brozone dance routines. He tries to stay out of it best he can and let them have their fun but then they ask him to teach them and doesn't he just melt.

Bruce - has a wedding ring but it is Vacationer sized. He keeps it in his hair mostly but will braid it into his hair like an accessory for special occasions.

Bruce - 100% certain Poppy and Branch's first born would be a boy. "We're a family of five brothers! It took Brandy and I thirteen tries to have a daughter. Trust me, I have no doubt your first egg will absolutely be a boy." *They have a girl* Bruce 😑

Bruce - all the kids now request Brozone songs instead of lullabies.

Bruce - opened the restaurant before he met Brandy. Used all the money he had left from Brozone to open it.

Bruce - teaches his kids about body positivity.

Bruce - mortifies his kids by trying to use slang. "That was so very lit!" "Daaaaaaaaaadddddd"

Bruce - just starts being a Dad to everyone without realizing it e.g. cuts food into smaller bites, starts randomly folding people's clothes, licking his finger and wiping food off faces, always having snacks and bandaids in his hair.

Bruce - sleeps wearing a hair bonnet and continues his extensive skincare routine into adulthood.

Bruce - grew a full beard once. Then he had babies. They became obsessed with pulling his beard. No more beard.

Bruce - his kids have buried him in the sand more times than he cares to admit.

Bruce - has attempted to set up John Dory on a date with Brandy's sister.

Bruce - kept having kids because he and Brandy wanted at least one daughter. When they finally had LaBreezy they decided to stop.

Bruce - learned to surf to get Brandy's attention when they first met. Ended up falling in love with surfing before Brandy fell for him. 😁

Bruce - can and will reorganize someone else's kitchen to what he deems is more efficient.

Bruce - always the first to volunteer to babysit other Troll's kids. Not that he doesn't appreciate his own children, he just loves being about to dote on kids he can actually hold on his hip and carry in his hair. Just being able to do the little Troll things he can't do with his own giant kids.

Bruce - noone on the island knew about his 'past life' except for Brandy. (Canon?)

Bruce - has the world's best hangover cure but it's a secret.

Bruce - there have been times when he has muddled up his kids names and he hates himself every time.

Floyd - his hair is naturally pink but JD made him make it redder because 'we're a boyband and pink is a girls colour'

Floyd - absolutely judges you for your star sign

Floyd - knows exactly how to pop away that pain is someones back/shoulder/hips. Grabs JDs shoulder "Relax John. After three. One...two.." CRACK

Floyd - moves back to Pop Village for what JD calls 'early retirement' works in a sort of wellness center that has music therapy and yoga and stuff.

Floyd - in a desperate last resort he once mentioned he was part of Brozone to be noticed by a music producer. It's one of his biggest regrets.

Floyd - has volunteered at homeless shelters and performed at benefit concerts.

Floyd - was 100% sure he was going to die in the bottle. He now has a new outlook on life after being given a second chance.

Floyd - wants a long term relationship but is afraid of getting attached and being used.

Floyd - practices advanced yoga

Floyd - has developed claustrophobia

Floyd - released one solo album, one limited run, it was mentioned he is a former member Brozone on the cover to boost sales. It was a flop. This crushed Floyd.

Floyd - plans to get more body mods in the future.

Floyd - when asked about his past he describes it as 'colourful'. People are yet to find out what he means by this.

Floyd - kept two copies of his own album. He was going to give the other to Grandma Rosiepuff for her collection.

Floyd - when performing solo he does 10 push ups and drinks tea before going on stage. (Apparently Troye Sivan does this and I could see Floyd doing it too 😁)

Floyd - has tried on dresses and corsets before. Prefers overskirts.

Floyd - in a desperate attempt to try and forget V&V, Floyd nearly shaved his head.

Floyd - he actually wrote all of those songs for Velvet and Veneer!

Floyd - after the Mount Rageous incident he gets a little bit reckless without realizing it. He has an "I just survived death so cliff jumping isn't scary anymore' kinda attitude.

Floyd - can read palms and tarot cards.

Floyd - went through the seven stages of grief over his own death.

Floyd - can mix drinks. Messily. Was dating a bartender once and picked up some things from him.

Floyd - used to busk to earn extra cash (based on that one concept art)

Floyd - felt he needed to start a solo career because he wrote a lot of songs that JD didn't pay attention to.

Floyd - did in fact live with the other Troll tribes for a while. Hard Rock Trolls were the last ones he met. This was where he met his manager/mentor.

Floyd - high pain tolerance and godlike levels of patience.

Floyd - has been to rehab for hard candy, is currently 10 years sober. Now advocates for health and wellness in Pop Village.

Floyd - Broke up with several ex's when he found they were all only using him for his fame. 💔

Floyd - can only sleep comfortably near an open window. Sometimes can only sleep sitting up.

Floyd - will randomly stare off into space or mutter to himself.

Floyd - *clears throat* I ship Floom! 💕🏳️‍🌈

Floyd - can't stick to new hobbies for very long, he hyperfixates for a week or two then gets bored. Macrame, candle making, soap making, jewelry making, photography are some examples.

Floyd - did a few red carpet appearances during his solo era, he felt very out of place. @ssippingwaterfalls 💕

John Dory - has embarrassing baby pictures of his brothers as leverage

John Dory - over-exaggerates his retellings of stories "I fought off 30 no no no 40 snakes with one hand behind my back."

John Dory - always casually asking Poppy, Brandy and Viva to marry him, over small things too "Brandy, these pancakes are delicious, marry me."

John Dory - freaky level spice tolerance, looks people in their teary eyes as he bites a raw ghost pepper

John Dory - says "Gotta get home to the missus" when referring to Rhonda

John Dory - narrates himself "Against all odds, the brave and handsome Troll was able to tame the ferocious beast" he says as he's washing a purring Rhonda

John Dory - the Uncle that buys Bruce's kids toys that are either loud or that make a huge mess

John Dory - didn't finish school, made sure his brothers did

John Dory - has not kept track of his age and is in denial when people remind him.

John Dory - met Rhonda when she eats him. He just walks right out the door confused.

John Dory - has been arrested before, he changes the reason everytime someone asks.

John Dory - occasionally uses 'chewing tobacco' (which honestly in the Trolls-verse would be some kinda chewing gum 😂)

John Dory - serial flirt (very bad at it, he thinks he's great at it)

John Dory - does weird stuff because of his isolation e.g. will eat what's left over on the plates when Bruce's customers leave, will ask when the baby's due but they're just overweight, will go into detail about gutting a fish in front of Trollings.

John Dory - can open a wine/champagne bottle with his machete and light a match with his teeth

John Dory - does not own pyjamas, falls asleep in what he wore that day.

John Dory - has a midlife crisis when all the Trollings in Pop village thought he was Branch's dad.

John Dory - has had several concussions and plenty of broken bones. Got very good at applying first aid to himself.

John Dory - makes his own Moonshine

John Dory - sworn off ever having children.

John Dory - pretty scrappy at self defence, can hold his own when boxing.

John Dory - always has some kind of weapon on him at all times.

John Dory - tends to manspread when sitting.

John Dory - has been targeted by Bounty Hunters before, resulting in a gnarly injury on his hand he now covers with his glove.

John Dory - for a time he was convinced that he was the last Pop Troll

John Dory - sometimes refers to himself in the third person. "John Dory doesn't need a map!"

John Dory - doesn't 'get' modern art, pretends he does so people don't think he's dumb.

John Dory - will try to use fancier sounding words in a sentence, thinking it makes sense. It doesn't.

John Dory - when doing outdoor work, his brothers silently bet how long it takes before JD is unnecessarily shirtless.

John Dory - ends up helping with raising and handling the critters kept in the village. E.g rearing orphaned Cuddle Pups, shearing the Puffalos, breaking in the Adorabulls, taming wild flyer bugs.

John Dory - when living on his own, he would only come back to civilization just before the start of winter when it would be harder to forage and hunt food. He would spend a week or so stocking up on supplies, interact with the locals, then disappear again.

John Dory - takes night classes to finally get his highschool diploma. Is too embarrassed to tell anyone until he graduates.

John Dory - doesn't get sick often. But when he does, he keeps going to the point of exhaustion.

John Dory - has indeed crossed paths with Delta Dawn before. Both of them have very different versions of the story. "I serenaded her." "The fool was whining something from the inside of a jail cell."

John Dory - has been known to sleep with his eyes open. Freaks people out.

John Dory - will drink milk straight from the carton and put it back in the fridge.

John Dory - teaches Bruce's kids all the swear words and does in fact tell them his rendition of where eggs come from.

John Dory - claims to be holding back grey hairs with sheer will power

John Dory - believes in love at first sight, just not for himself.

John Dory - will wrestle and roughhouse to bond with people.

John Dory - if there was a couple sitting on a couch, JD will sit between them and not even realize what he did!

John Dory - he doesn't let it show but his ears are constantly twitching to check for danger, a side effect of living in the wilderness alone for so long.

Clay - writes long and very detailed critical reviews of restaurants

Clay - has reading glasses. Probably the ones that attach magnetically at the nose ridge.

Clay - labels everything (labelmaker is to Clay as Gary is to Branch)

Clay - very into color coded itineraries and always know everyone's business "Poppy is currently at Smidge's pod doing her hair" "How could you possibly know that?" "I have my sources."

Clay - also a notary and registered marriage celebrant

Clay - hair was always naturally green but JDs hair was already green. JD said he had to be yellow for the band, they needed that color coordinated group vibe.

Clay - has drafts for his own book series

Clay - actually plays golf

Clay - gets clumsy when trying to impress someone he admires (imagine him meeting King Peppy and he just knocks things over)

Clay - competitive af - brothers know better than to verse him at anything - has an over the top victory dance

Clay - receives special recognition alongside Viva for protecting the Putt Putt Trolls. (Knighthood? Trollstopia's official CFO?)

Clay - has a stupidly complicated coffee order

Clay - plans to move the Hole N Fun between Pop Village and Bergen Town. Imagine the business!

Clay - refers to Viva as his 'Work Wife'

Clay - knows how to use a stenograph

Clay - absolutely did not roll around the putt-putt course like the others.

Clay - everything must be neat and organized, after living with four brothers he values cleanliness so I imagine he would haaaaate glitter.

Clay - studied hard at math to set himself apart from his brothers.

Clay - occasionally tutors math to Trollings.

Clay - has a decent sized nest egg

Clay - graduated highschool early

Clay - has business cards stored in his hair

Clay - knows how to tie different knots for neckties.

Clay - can spin a pen around his fingers

Clay - is thinking of getting his own critter transportation

Clay - has no fuss, no fun breakfast. Plain toast or fibre cereal.

Clay - itching to hook Pop Village up with electricity.

Clay - was definitely the problem child. Being the middle child in a house full of teenage boys, coupled with the constant threat of Bergens with a sprinkling of John Dory as an older brother results in an angry little Troll boy.

Clay - his hardcore fans were known as Claydies.

Clay - the Putt-Putt Trolls didn't have a sad book club as they had no books! After the reunion Clay was very excited about the vast new collection of books he could get his hands on!

Clay - finds out that he was Poppy's favourite Brozone member when she was little and doesn't he just boast about it any chance he gets!

Clay - for Clay to finally forgive John Dory, JD agreed to perform for the brothers+Poppy and Viva in ONLY the funderdrawers. "Do you feel like you're having 76% more fun yet John? Cause I am!" *Camera snap*

Clay - bruises like a damn peach.

Clay - Viva made him co-leader after she gave up on the notion of being immediately rescued and realized Clay was already constructing and implementing long term settlement plans.

Clay - like the other Putt-Putt Trolls, he has basically become Nocturnal. Even with this, he pulls 'allnighters' to finish any work he has, so his sleep pattern is very inconsistent.

Clay - has a lot of energy. When he isn't dancing, he fidgets, taps his foot, bounces his knee, drums pens.

Clay - has many, many of the same sweater romper. All of them are different shades of green.

Clay - eventually hires an assistant. The assistant is mentally prepared for Clay to be a dictator of a boss. They are shocked when Clay keeps saying things like "Have you had a break yet?" "I think you need a day for your mental health." "Yes, that's how much I'm paying you. How are you going to save for your own pod if I pay you any less?"

Clay - had to quit being the Fun Boy cold turkey so that the Putt Putt Trolls would trust in his leadership.

Clay - I imagine a running gag that random Trolls keep calling him Viva's boyfriend/husband, and he keeps trying to correct them, but he is always cut off or they immediately forget. At some point a random Troll is like "What, is Viva not good enough for you?" And he is so exhausted from fighting it, he just gives up and rolls with it.

Clay - will stay up to sunrise reading 'just one more chapter'

Clay - his brothers collectively tried to convince him that he was the adopted brother.

Clay - is quite squeamish. The sight of vomit, open wounds and bodily fluids; Clay will absolutely pass out. Snotty babies make him very uncomfortable.

Clay - gets Viva to braid his hair out of his face only when something really serious is happening *cracks neck* "Viva?" "Yah?" "Braid me" "Yes, Sir." Shwoooop

Clay - Found out the Classical Trolls have a library larger the Pop Village. "Viva, they have a whole wing dedicated to tragedies! Tragedies, Viva!"

Clay - okay, so he and Viva have never been a couple, even if he ever considered it, their work came first and he didn't want to jeopardize what they had. Buuuuuuuttt the thought that another Troll could one day be Viva's person, that she would go to them instead of him for comfort or ideas or laughs or safety or hugs... it makes Clay feel... weird.

Clay - at some point is named some kinda Troll magazines most eligible bachelor. Bro was in a boyband, co-runs a society of survivors, runs a business, is close friends with royalty, has been knighted, has a license to practice accounting and was part of the only known Perfect Family Harmony. He's apparently a hot commodity now.

Clay - tells John Dory that some appliances are voice activated when they aren't. Will watch JD yell at the coffee maker. 😈

Clay - gets random nosebleeds.

Clay - is writing an autobiography. It will not be kind.

Clay - can read Latin.

Clay - overachiever. Was good at academics and sports in highschool.

Clay - a gambler, can count cards, good poker face and good at reading people's 'tells'.

Branch - for Pop Trolls - being in a famous singing group is the equivalent of being a recognized expert in your field. So, the fact that Branch is in TWO famous boy bands is like he has several PhDs.

Branch - Kismet formed inside a group home for Trollings

Branch - toying with the idea of building plans for a Pop Village Castle. (Secretly a fortress)

Branch - he is very, VERY aware that by marrying Poppy one day he would become King. In secret he plans. And plans. And plans. Mr. Survivalist Troll handles this new fear the way he usually does; with over-preparedness!

Branch - Kismet were the ones that originally got him hooked on ring pops.

Branch - learns phrases in other languages to build relationships with subgenre tribes of Trolls. E.g the K-Pop and Reggaeton Trolls.

Branch - started building the bunker while he was still living in the group home with other Trollings.

Branch - will hold onto Poppy in his sleep like she'll disappear if he lets go.

Branch - all those times that Branch thought the Bergens were coming? It was actually Creek harshly pranking Branch to make him look like a fool.

Viva - that concept art of tiny Viva is the age she was when they escaped the Troll Tree. So like 15 maybe?

Viva - wants to make up for all the missed holidays/birthdays/parties with Poppy so she is constantly popping out from places with gifts yelling SURPRISE!

Viva - does not knock on doors and absolutely will walk straight in when someone is changing clothes

Viva - snorts when she laughs too hard

Viva - biggest Broppy shipper. Already has their wedding planned in her head.

Viva - adrenaline junkie

Viva - no sense of personal space

Viva - rubs it into Clay's face that the ONE time he leaves is when Bergens show up. Uses it as leverage for the most petty of things. "Oh you want the last cupcake? Remember that time you left and Bergens came?" She's not even mad about it she just wanted the cupcake.

Viva - has made a list of all the things she's wanted to experience with Poppy. Makeup, planning parties, dealing with heartbreaks etc. they may not be the first times they've both done these things, but their excited to try them together. 😊

Viva - she reeeaaalllyyy wants to braid all of Bruce's hair. And Brandy's. And their kids. And oh look how much hair Vacationers have!

Viva - is worried that Clay doesn't need her around anymore.

Viva - wants to have children. Lots of them!

Viva - tries to hide sadder feelings from Poppy. Worried that Poppy won't want to hang out with her if she isn't fun.

Viva - calls the older brothers Mr.Bruce and Mr.JD (Clay told her to)

Viva - blows raspberries on peoples cheeks/arms/stomachs to show affection.

Viva - likes to collect 'things'. (Canon?) Never know when you might need the thing again. It can be reused for a different purpose. Side effect of trying to survive. Borderline hoarder. Clay does it too, he is just more organized about it.

Poppy - wishes that Branch would initiate physical contact more often.

Poppy - When something is wrong and the brothers don't want her to know, she can immediately tell because they call her 'Queen Poppy'.

Poppy - besides giving Clay and Viva their titles, she considers the other brothers unofficially part of her 'court' as well. (She might knight them later on, who knows?)

Poppy - sometimes feels guilty, if things had been different, Viva would have been Queen. Viva tries to reassure Poppy that she is "The right Troll for the role." 👍🏻 Also Viva tries to argue that they both technically get be Queens now anyway.

Poppy - would have many pillows and plushies on her bed.

Brandy - has swaddled Bruce before. By accident or on purpose, she will never tell.

Brandy - after watching Bruce, she now puts little things in her hair. Nothing huge, maybe a pen and a food order pad, a snack and bandaids for the kids. Depends on the day.

Rhonda - you know in Frozen, how Sven really wants to eat Olafs nose the whole movie? Imagine that but Rhonda wants to eat Mr.Dinkles

Rhonda - locks JD outside when she's annoyed with him. "Who needs you, I wanted to sleep on this rock anyway!"

Rhonda - when she was a baby she was more like a big suitcase than a vehicle.

Rhonda - really likes rolling around in mud, especially after she's just been cleaned. JD > 😑

Trolls - in general Trolls are pretty rare outside their usual kingdoms and it's considered good luck to meet one.

Trolls - letting another troll touch your hair is a very huge sign of trust.

Trolls - have their own version of godparents. Museparents.

Trolls - Can you imagine how many shades of foundation a Troll makeup store has to stock?! I mean, they probably don't need foundation but could you imagine?!

Trolls - having an egg on the way is known as an 'Eggnancy" 😂

Trolls - varies amongst the tribes but hair length and thickness is a good indication of their physical strength and health. So long, thick hair means they're healthy and can lift heavy weights. E.g. Smidge, Bruce, Boom. Whereas short, wild or thin hair means they could be older, unhealthy or just not physically strong. E.g. Peppy and Thrash.

Trolls - eventually a hybrid Troll (e.g. Techno/Funk) is born in Trollstopia and the parents name the baby after Poppy.

Trolls - JD and King Peppy do the same pose in some stock images. I like to think it's like a Pop Village salute. (It probably has an actual meaning)

Trolls - Hard Candy = Hard Drugs 🍭

Trolls - King Peppy invented all these bizarre holidays when they were trapped in the Troll tree to keep hope alive and to boost morale.

Trolls – teenage Pop Trolls wear eachothers hug time bracelets when they're dating. Like wearing their boyfriend's school pin or their jacket.

Trolls- Trollings can't make their hair into a gradient style until they are older. (survival/camouflage situations they can do, but only temporarily)

Putt-Putt Trolls - all delayed having Trollings worrying for their future safety. The very few eggs that hatched are hidden and protected by the whole tribe. (Putt-Putt baby names: Birdie, Par, Ace, Caddie, Fore, Eagle, Divot, Links, Scramble) Clay and Viva were present for every one of them hatching.

Putt Putt Trolls - all of them are wearing the same outfits because they used Bergen sized socks from the golf courses souvenir stand.

Putt Putt Trolls - use the courses tokens as general currency.

Putt-Putt Trolls - that coordinated attack to capture Bridget and Grissle? Clay was the one who planned and trained them.

Yodelers - Hickory and Dickory had a brother named Dock. He was the one that was rumoured to be crushed by an avalanche. He was the one to hunt down John Dory when everyone thought he was the last Pop Troll. While chasing him down a cliff side, he swung an ice pick straight through John Dory's left hand.

Sugar Gals - SPICE GIRLS TROLLS! I absolutely can picture young JD being so frustrated if BroZone was overtaken on the charts by a rival group

Crimp - goes to work for King Gristle and Queen Bridget after TBT.

Guy Diamond - Trolls have eggs when they have powerful feelings of love. Guy Diamond was able to have Tiny because he loves himself so much.

Tiny Diamond - checks on Branch and Poppy's egg daily asking if his new BFFL is here yet.

Tiny Diamond - the best wingman! E.g. He's hanging out with JD and starts playing up the baby image to lure in the ladies. "I wuv you Uncle John. You're my best friend!" And the ladies are like "Aww!" Tiny whispers "You're welcome"

Cloud Guy - gave Branch 101 reasons why he should officiate his and Poppy's wedding.

Queen Barb - messing with the Rock String made Thrash lose his mind and made Barb more aggressive. Notice they both seemed to be more level headed after the strings were destroyed?

Riff - studying to work in Aged Care. His studies are sponsored so that he can look after King Thrash.

Boom - Floyd's solo music helped Boom when he was coming out. 🏳️‍🌈

King Peppy - Didn't tell Poppy about Viva because he was in the early stages of dementia. (Canon?) For a while he thought Poppy WAS Viva. By the time he realised his 'mistake', Poppy was already grown.

Vacay Island - the brothers sometimes help Bruce at his restaurant. They have name tags with funny 'work names'. Flood, Big Fish, Classy, and Big Brunch. Viva and Poppy have done the odd shift as well, as Pinky and Diva. 😝

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

Series masterlist , previous chapter

Taglist- @cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow

Part 2, Chapter 2- a not so fun sleepover

Summary: it is just your luck at this point. You and Kiara get caught by some weird people in the Barbados after finally getting off ‘poguelandia.’ You’re trapped with your psycho ex. Again. For a second time.

After what felt like a year, finally, someone had come to rescue you guys.

Now, you guys had been saved. You were thankful for whoever this dude was for picking you guys up, thankful to get off this damn island already.

“I got a little guide out in Saint Vincent. I was spotting fish.” He told you guys as you sat down in his plane.

“What were you spotting?” You asked the man, curious.

“You know, the usual. Wahoo.”

You quirked an eyebrow, JJ also seemed confused as he turned to you.

“Wahoo? In September?” You whispered to JJ. He had the same confused look.

“That doesn’t make sense.” He whispered back.

“I’d hang on to something. Gets a little spicy on takeoff.”

“Wahoo doesn’t run in September. Like ever.” You told them all quietly. “Kinda wish it did, cause then we’d have been eating it…” you trailed off. “It tastes so good.”

“Yeah. So whoever this dude is, he’s not a fisherman.” JJ spoke.

“Maybe the run just starts earlier out here.” Pope shrugged.

You tilted your head to the side. “In the carribean? Unlikely. They usually-“

“No, I know what this is. He’s working for my dad. And he’s probably been looking for us the entire time.” Sarah cut you off, everyone turning to her now.

“All right, we gotta find out.” JJ said. “Just gotta look for clues…”

You tapped on JJs shoulder, and pointed to a bag on the back of his seat.

“Hey, Jimmy.” John B spoke, distracting the man while JJ slowly reached for the bag, taking it and rummaging through everything. He opened a book and found a picture, a picture of the coastal venture.

He handed it to Sarah.

“So he was looking for us?” Cleo said.

“Exactly.”

“He’s working for my dad.”

“I say we all jump off.” You pointed down. The plane shook suddenly, you all grabbing on.

“Hey, yall better hold something we got some unexpected turbulence up here.”

“Guys, whatever it is, it’s happening fast. Look.”

Everyone looked out the window, seeing some land.

“That looks like Barbados. I’ve been there with Terrence.”

“Okay.. there’s 7 of us, one of him. You know my vote, we storm the cockpit.” Jj told everyone.

“Idiot. None of us know how to fly a damn plane.” You hit him in the arm.

“I’ve seen pope fly simulators.”

“Yeah, and I’ve flown the fucking Death Star on Lego Star Wars, doesn’t mean I can fly.” You shrugged.

“Well do you have an idea?” He turned to you.

“Something safe..?”

“Why don’t we just wait until the plane lands somewhere safe, and then we sneak out. And if someone comes to mess with us, we mad dog them.” Pope spoke.

“Yeah. I like that way better.” You nodded.

“I like the mad-dogging part.” Jj tilted his head.

“Just put that back. Put it back. Be cool.” Kiara told JJ, John B distracting him again so JJ could put the stuff back into the bag.

“I’ve been going since I was 18-“ he spoke, and heard a sudden noise. JJ had been caught.

“Hey man! What the hell are you doing?” He turned to JJ, slapping him away. “That’s mine! That’s my book, give it back!”

“Fly the plane! Please fly the plane. Please fly the plane.” Sarah said, the plane shaking. You were knocked straight into Cleo who helped you sit back up quickly.

The plane crashed into the water as he struggled to get it up. Everyone screaming as they fell into the back, you all piling on top of each other. The plane filled with water.

“Is everybody good?” You asked them, everyone coughing.

“Jj, wake up, man we gotta get out.” you helped him get up. John B shoved open the door, multiple people coming over.

“Oh no. They don’t look friendly.”

“No, they look very unfriendly!”

“We gotta go, come on.”

They all got out.

“Kie, go!” You told her.

“I’m coming. Go!”

“I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Guys, get out before it sinks!” JJ told you both. Kiara looked at you and back behind you, at the man sinking.

You groaned when she began to swim over, you following.

“Come on, you gotta hurry!”

They all shouted out you both. You helped Kiara get through the plane and unbuckled the man, helping her carry him through the window.

The others were all swimming now.

“Come on guys, hurry up! Hurry up!”

“We got you.” Kiara panted to him, the man unconscious as you both carried him to shore.

“Wait, where are they?” Jj asked, turning around.

“You guys, where the fuck are they?”

“They went the other way.”

You both brought him up to shore, Kiara coughing as you brought her close to you.

“Thank you.” The man told you both, awake now.

“You lied to us. Who are you?” Kiara asked, an Atv interrupting him.

“Oh God. You should get out of here.”

You stood up, helping Kiara up and both of you running away from the men.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” JJ mumbled, watching.

You both looked around, a car pulling up. You both hid by a boat, before getting caught.

“They’re over here!”

You punched a man square in the face who tried to grab Kiara, sweeping his leg and making him fall before another caught your arm. And another grabbing Kiara as you thrashed and screamed.

“Get off!” You shouted, they both dragged you guys into their trucks as you struggled.

“What… what are we gonna do?” JJ asked, teary eyes. “We’re going after them, right?”

“What… what can we do?” John B spoke.

“Where are they talking them?”

“They’re all right there, they’re looking this way we gotta go.” Cleo said and began to swam. The other followed but Jj stayed behind for a moment.

“JJ come on. We can’t save them if we get caught.”

“We lost the others. We’ll keep searching.” You heard a voice over the man’s radio.

Kiara stayed in the bed of the truck, you looked around for a moment before jumping out and before you could even tell her to get out, you were being shouted at.

You ran away, as far as you could. But that wasn’t very far before they caught you again, one of them punching you and knocking you down, your cheek falling right back onto the sand.

“Jesus, dude! I’m gonna have a black fucking eye!” You shouted, groaning as they threw you back into the truck.

“Worth a shot, I guess.” You shrugged when Kiara looked at you in shock.

The pilot came up to the truck.

“We saved your life.” Kiara whispered to him.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m gonna try to help you, okay? I swear, I didn’t know it was gonna be like this. Look, if you don’t fight, if you just do what they say, these guys probably… they probably won’t hurt you.”

“Probably?” You recoiled, making a face at him.

“What did Ward promise you?” Kiara asked.

“Who? Hey, just take my advice, do what they say. Good luck.”

The man got back in the truck.

“All right, let’s go.”

- - - - ᨳ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ഒ - - - -

“Jesus, this dude is loaded.” You whispered to yourself when the truck drove up to the house. Kiara and you looked at each other worriedly as you were being walked in.

The house was huge, full of antiques and relics.

“Take them upstairs. The Orinoco room.” One women said, and you both were grabbed by the arm and dragged upstairs.

You shoved the dudes arm off you when you entered the room.

“Inside.”

“Why are we here? Who are you working for?”

“Dinner at eight. I’d clean up.”

“Just tell us what they want!-“ Kiara shouted, but the man shut the door in her face and the door locked.

“Great. This is fun. A little sleepover.”

Kiara looked out the window, and you looked at the dresses hanging up.

“At least they’ve got taste…?” You mumbled, flicking through the dresses. Two red dresses for each size.

“Pick your size.” The note read. You shrugged to yourself, grabbing one.

“Least it gets me out of these clothes.”

Later, the both of you were escorted downstairs.

“You know, this dress looks actually pretty good on me. Think they’ll let me keep it?” You asked Kiara when you walked downstairs, looking at yourself in a mirror.

“Why out of everyone to be stuck with did it have to be you?” She murmured.

“I’m offended. I think it’s a lot better than being struck with JJ. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

As you walked down and were directed into a room.

“Uh, excuse me?” Kiara said to a man, with a shaved head.

The man turned around, his eyes meeting yours first, his face falling.

“No, I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.” Kiara spoke, your mouth agape as you stared at him as in shock.

“What are you talking about? You guys trying to weasel in on my deal? Is that what’s going on?” He walked towards Kiara.

“No fucking way!” You shouted, turning on your heels, holding your hands up and beginning to walk out before a guard manhandled you inside, throwing you onto the floor. “Goddamnit!” You huffed.

“Is there like any other room I can be in? Specifically without him?” You asked the guard, before he slammed the door in your face.

“Seriously?” Rafe started. “You’re so fucking imm-“

“Yes, seriously! Last time I saw you was months ago, and you held a gun to my head and a knife to my throat! How am I immature?” You pointed at him, standing up and getting closer to him, shouting in his face now.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” A man said. All of you turning to him now. He chuckled and turned.

“Who are you?” Rafe asked the man.

“Me? My name is Carlos Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron. And Ms. Carrera and l/n, I do apologize for the rough tactics of bringing you here.”

He turned his gaze to you.

“And I heard you’re a fighter. And a runner. Roughed up a few of my guys.” He chuckled. “All is forgiven. Please, come.” He motioned to the other room.

Kiara looked back at you.

“Sit down.”

Rafe looked at Kiara and at you, you sneered at him and walked behind Kiara, your arms crossed as you sat down on a chair.

“Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe asked the man.

“Yes, Mr. Cameron. False pretenses. But, the ends justify the means, I’m afraid. Sit. Please.”

Rafe sat on a chair next to you, while you scooted over as far as you possibly could. He exhaled as he looked at you and back at the man.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, fucking right we do.” You scoffed, leaning back in the chair.

- - - - ᨳ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ഒ - - - -

“Hey. Hey!” He shouted, hanging on the closed door and messing with the doorknob.

“Oh my God, yeah I’m gonna lock myself in the bathroom, do not disturb me.” You murmured as the man shut the door, Kiara grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

“If I have to deal with him, so do you.”

You groaned. “It’s locked, you dumbass.” You told him when he tried to continue to get it open. Kiara and you walked towards the window, he followed.

“Get off me, man!” Portis shouted.

“Who the hell is that guy?” Rafe asked, watching the man be dragged.

“We know him. It’s Jimmy Portis. He was trying to help us.” Kiara whispered. Singh looked at the window, pulling out a gun.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe spoke, the man dissapearing in the back. All you could hear was the gun firing.

Rafe swallowed, Kiara panted, your mouth hung open in shock.

“This diary. Hey, no bullshit.” He turned to you, “don’t bullshit me. Do you guys have it?”

“I don’t know anything about a damn diary!” You told him. “You sure you don’t?”

“I think I would know if I fucking-“ he started.

“Kie?” You turned to her, voice hopeful. She shook her head.

“No.”

“Well, it’s official. We’re all dying together.” You said with a groan, running a hand over your face.

“Nobodies dying.” Rafe said, glancing at you.

“Yeah? What’s your bright idea then, buzz?” You asked, your arms crossed.

Ouch, went straight for the haircut.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2564

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sorry that this one feels like a bit of a filler - but I’m seriously hoping to get some spicy content out in the next chapter so pls pls stay tuned! Also this is only proof read by myself so pls let me know of any errors!

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 4

We spent a few hours researching and looking into the First Blades whereabouts after dinner, Dean and I only making work-related conversations after the pie ordeal. Every now and then when I looked up from the book I was reading I’d catch him looking in my direction, but I was far too tired for any more confrontation - I knew he'd act like an ass if I said anything. I decided to head to bed at around midnight, unable to read more than a few words and actually process said words in my brain. As Sam was still asleep, Dean showed me to my room which was tragically opposite his, and I could only imagine the noises that I’d be hearing coming through that door. Getting ready for bed, I dug out an old boyfriends T-shirt that I was still in possession of and threw it on, making sure to remove all other items of clothing except my panties. I climbed into bed - which was surprisingly more comfortable than I’d anticipated, though the sheets smelt a little musty - and set an alarm on my phone so I could hopefully rise before the boys in the morning. The moment my head hit the pillow, sleep whisked me away, not giving me a chance to think about the wild day I’d had and the total jackass that I’d met.

*

My alarm rang at 5am and I crawled out of bed, dressing in yesterday’s jeans with a clean, low-cut tank top and an open flannel thrown over the top. Pulling on my boots, I ran my fingers through my hair before heading to the en suite bathroom to brush my teeth. As I turned on the tap, the pipes clanged alarmingly as a small stream of water trickled from the faucet, the harsh noise echoing around the small tiled room. “That’s not concerning at all,” I mumbled to myself, the noise finally stopping as I turned the tap off. After I’d finished brushing I headed back into the bedroom to grab my phone before leaving the room to walk wearily to the kitchen. Upon arrival, I instantly made a pot of coffee, the smell alone already helping to blow away the sleepy cobwebs in my mind. I needed food. Something good, like pancakes. So I rummaged around until I found everything I needed, starting to memorise where the brothers kept everything after spending so much time in here yesterday evening. As I whipped up the batter, I threw some bacon in a pan and placed three plates on the table, along with some mugs, the pot of coffee and a big bottle of maple syrup. As soon as I started cooking the batter, it was like I’d used a summoning spell.

“You know when I first woke up I thought that I’d dreamt you up in some sort of weirdly tame nightmare” Dean said in a deep and raspy, fresh-from-sleep tone as he paced into the room and sat at the table, rubbing his eyes.

“Is that your way of saying that I’m your dream girl, Winchester?” I teased as I poured him a mug of coffee. He smirked, not looking up at me.

“You wish darlin’.”

“I really don’t,” I turned back to the stove and flipped the pancake, taking a sip from my own mug.

I’d made a stack of maybe twelve pancakes by the time Sam arrived, greeting me with that warm smile of his as he took a seat opposite Dean.

“Good morning (Y/n), something smells amazing.”

“Good morning Sam,” I smiled back at him before I looked over at Dean, “That’s how you greet someone in the morning Dean, not by telling them they were part of your living nightmare.” Dean shrugged, taking a long drink from his coffee.

Sam gave me an almost apologetic look on his brothers behalf, saying quietly, “as charming as ever then, Dean.” As he sat down I placed the stack of pancakes along with the bacon on the table and both men’s eyes lit up, immediately picking up their cutlery.

“Help yourselves,” I said, taking a seat between them, “just leave a couple for me at least.”

Dean was the first to pile about five onto his plate along with a good portion of the bacon. Without even looking at me he placed two pancakes on my own plate as he reached for the maple syrup. Before I could ask for the bacon, it was Sam who served some up for me before giving himself whatever was left over before handing me the syrup.

“Oh, thanks guys…” I said, a little shocked at how weirdly coordinated they were with that whole task.

“You’re welcome,” they both managed to mumble out through huge mouthfuls of food. We sat in a strangely nice silence for a few minutes, the only noise to be heard was the sounds of breakfast being totally annihilated. Dean was the first to throw his cutlery down with a very satisfied groan. He stretched, his T-shirt rising slightly to show his incredibly toned abdomen.

For fucks sake.

“THAT is what powers a man up in the morning,” he said, his fingers interlaced behind his head.

“Mmm hmm,” was all I managed to get out, finding it annoyingly difficult to look away, let alone to stop my eyes from trailing to where his leather belt hugged his hips and his old denim jeans gripped the thick muscles of his thighs. A few seconds must’ve passed when he cleared his throat and my eyes snapped up to be immediately caught in that moss-green gaze. Shit. I thought maybe for a second that he didn’t notice me looking. But then the corner of his mouth twitched up into that infuriating smirk. Luckily for me, he didn’t say anything, but I watched as he dragged his gaze over my figure, similar to how I did with him. It was Sam who spoke up next and I tore my eyes away, letting out a breath as he saved me from Deans silent interrogation.

“So I read last night about a possible case,” he started to say as he finished chewing the last bit of food on his plate before pushing it away and turning towards us.

“Go on,” Dean said, leaning forwards - finally covering his exposed stomach.

“I think it’s a haunting - some sort of item possession involving a ghost. All of the accidents that have been happening seem to occur either around or directly within an old antique store that’s connected to an old auction house. I think it’s worth a look,” Sam opened his laptop that he’d placed on the seat next to him, showing us all of the research he’d done overnight. Looking at the evidence he’d piled together, I think he was on to something. I nodded.

“Sure, I’m in. I’ll go pack a bag,” I said, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Hang on a second,” Dean spoke up and I immediately knew he was talking to me.

“What?”

“What makes you think you’re coming with us for this?” His brows furrowed slightly.

“Because I never get to work out in the field - Bobby always had me on book duty and I want to see some real hunting in action,” I raised my voice a little starting to get defensive.

“If Bobby never let you do field work then neither are we. You’re staying here,” his tone was stern as he downed the last of the coffee and stood up, towering over me.

“What?!” I almost shouted.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s your place to say what she can and can’t do. I say we let her come along,” Sam intervened, his voice always full of reason and reassurance. I gave him a half smile - a small, ‘thank you for sticking up for me’.

“No way. There’s no way I’m letting Bobby’s girl put herself in danger. The old bastard would find a way to make us pay if anything were to happen to her; even from beyond the grave.”

“I don’t need you taking on his role, Dean. Bobby kept me safe my whole life, just him. I’m sure the pair of you could look out for me no problem on a little ghost trip,” I chided, coming up with a plan to get Dean to agree to me coming.

“(Y/n)s right, this shouldn’t be a hard case for us - if anything this is a small break from the real hard work,” Sam stepped towards Dean, trying to reassure him.

Dean looked from Sam to myself, and when our eyes locked I let a sly smile crawl onto my lips.

“Or maybe Dean Winchester isn’t up to the challenge?” I said, holding my hands up. He frowned, opening his mouth but I spoke again before he could get his words out. “Maybe….,” I stepped towards him, now only a few inches between us, “Dean Winchester is losing his touch, and isn’t the big strong man he used to be and really won’t be able to keep me safe…?” I flashed Dean my best doe eyes and I heard him suck in a breath as I reached forwards and tugged slightly on his T-shirt, making him look down at me with his eyes flicking between mine - dilating a little. I couldn’t help but bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes and pressing my fingertips to his chest, feeling his heart rate increase with every beat from my touch. I liked to think that I was being very ‘persuasive’.

“I think you’re right (Y/n), I don’t think Dean is up to the task. He’s definitely been losing his touch,” Sam spoke up, catching on with my game and joining in with the verbal attack on his older brother. Deans eyes snapped up to look at Sam and the almost trance-like state he was in before was shattered.

“I have NOT lost my touch!” He snapped. Sam and I looked at each other and exploded into laughing very fake laughs, clapping and wiping away a pretend tear.

“Sure thing ‘sweetheart’,” I said, “prove it - keep me safe.”

“Oh I’ll keep you safe,” Dean took the bait and barged past us, “I’ll keep you safe from your own fucking shadow.”

*

After a few hours of packing and travelling, we arrived in a very well manicured town - even the motel was decent. Upon checking in, we got two rooms; one for me and one for the boys.

“Let’s drop our stuff off, freshen up and meet back here in ten?” Sam said, checking his watch. It was just past 11am.

“Sure, sounds good,” I replied, and Dean just nodded in approval. Their room was further down the corridor than mine, so I watched them leave before entering my room. It was the usual layout: one double bed, cheap linens, an old TV and an under-stocked minibar. At least the decor wasn't completely brown. I dumped my bags on the floor and started to unpack some essentials. I laid my clothes out on the bed - some of these outfits may come in handy later on. For now though, I’ll just stick to what I was already wearing. Lastly I grabbed a tin that was down in the bottom of my duffle - inside was a bunch of fake IDs that Bobby insisted on making me a few years ago. I smiled, remembering him always answering the phone to the Winchesters, pretending to be their FBI boss. I was always dying to know what they were hunting when he got those phone calls. I admired them a lot back then. I shook away the memory and pocketed the IDs, marching to the bathroom and splashing some water on my face before leaving, locking the door behind me.

The boys were already waiting for me.

“You boys ready?” I asked, to which they both nodded. “Where to first?” my question was aimed at Sam, but Dean replied.

“The old antique store just down here on the corner,” he grumbled as we started walking, still unimpressed that I was tagging along. I shot him a look as he practically glared at me from the other side of Sam.

“Get over yourself Dean. I’m along for the ride so deal with it,” I snapped at him, hoping he un-rustles his jimmies quickly. I wasn’t going to let him drag me down, not when I’m excited to actually be on a case. My first ‘out in the field’ case of all things. I wanted this to be a good memory. He scrunched his face up at my words, mouthing an angry ‘I hate you’ at me, to which I flipped him off.

“Guys just behave yourselves!” Sam stopped in his tracks right as we were outside our destination. “We are professionals so we need to act like it. We’re here to do our job,” Sam said in an authoritative voice - which undeniably sounded very attractive on him. I walked a few steps ahead of them and stopped with my hand on the front door to the store.

“Sam’s right. I’m happy to be here helping these people,” I smiled a little too sweetly before throwing a dark look at Dean, “so pull your shit together Dean, you’re making us look bad.” I heard him start to protest before I pushed the door open and walked into the shop, hearing the two brothers scurrying to catch up with me. As we walked in we were greeted by an older gentleman, with a kind face, a neatly trimmed pure white beard and round specs.

“Good morning and welcome to the store,” he said, his voice soft, “Can I help you?” He looked between the three of us. The boys reached for the fake badges, but they were lost for words when I beat them to the chase - obviously being unaware that I’d come prepared. Holding my badge up for the older gent to see, I spoke without missing a beat.

“Hi! Yes you certainly can help me - I’m agent Granger and these,” I jabbed my thumb to Sam and Dean who were standing right behind me, “are agents Crabbe and Goyle. We’ve got some questions for you regarding the strange occurrences going on around here recently.”

“Of course, it’s about time these things were investigated,” the older man turned and beckoned for us to follow, which Sam did immediately. Dean and I were left behind, staring each other down. I could tell he wasn’t happy that I had a badge, and I couldn’t help but smile at that. He scowled.

“This isn’t a fucking game.”

“You’re just mad that I got one up on you so early on,” I grinned up at him, his frown not budging.

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” he huffed.

“I’m safe from doing you then aren’t I?” I couldn’t stop the words from spilling from my lips.

“What?” He looked at me like I’d sprouted a second head, obviously not catching on. I chuckled a little, walking past him to catch up with Sam, leaving him standing there confused.

“Don’t think too hard about it Dean, you might hurt yourself,” I called back over my shoulder.

“Fuck y- hang on- oh you BITCH!” He shouted after me as he caught on finally. I laughed, not looking back.

“Only to you Dean.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 5

[starcrossedreaders]

Late Night Ramen

Leon Kennedy x Reader

Honestly, this fic can be any version of Leon you would like it to be. Requests are open btw! 

Fluff

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The shuffling of your boyfriend coming home in the late hours of the night was nothing new to you.  His attempts to be quiet were enduring but, failed miserably. The slamming of his car door could be heard from your shared room, the front door desperately needed to be oiled, and the floorboard near the front door groaned under his footsteps. Tonight was no different, you could hear the slamming of his car door, the squeak of the front door, and the groan of the floorboards, all that was left was the squeak of the bedroom door. After waiting a few heartbeats in anticipation you didn’t hear his quiet footsteps approaching your shared room. Instead you could hear clashing of pots and pans from the kitchen.

Leon tried, he really did tried to be quiet when making his way to the kitchen to cook the spicy ramen he picked up from the local gas station on the corner. His mission took a toll on him, physically. It was only supposed to last a day, so he was only sent away with a day worth's of rations. So by the third day his stomach twisted in pain and the spearmint flavor gum made him sick. So naturally, he stopped to get a quick and easy dinner, or was it breakfast? He couldn’t care less, all he wants is to eat and crawl into his warm bed with you in it. Normally, he would just keep his ramen sweet and simple by cooking it with just what was given, but tonight? He was going to fest and treat himself right. Rummaging through the fridge he took out eggs, green onions, left over meat you had cooked the previous night, and a nice cold beer. It’s the least he can do to treat himself. 

What the fuck was your boyfriend doing at 2:35 in the morning? Gods, you loved him so much but you were in desperate need to be in his arms. Shuffling out bed, you were quick to grab Leon’s old R.P.D. hoodie and shrugged it on. It has seen it’s fair share of wear, the strings were shriveled, the R.P.D was barely readable and the cuffs of the sleeves had a hole on either side. The room door creaked slightly surly warning your significant other of your presence.  You feet padded on the cold wood. You peaked your head around the hallway corner to spot your boyfriend’s defined back. He had taken of his shirt due to the hot apartment, he preferred it cold, while you preferred it hot, so when he would leave on missions you would change the thermostat. He was banging his head lightly as he mumbled some lyrics from his favorite rock song. His hand moved up and down at a rapid pace as he copped something. Steam rose from his left side as you could hear boiling water.

“hmm, whatcha cooking?” you fully walked out of the hallway as Leon jumped a little.

“Whatcha doing up?” Ah, quick witted as always. 

“Well, when you didn’t come to bed I was curious as to what could be more important then your cold lonely girlfriend,” You laid your cold hands on either side of his hips. He was quick to jolt and tear your hands off of his body.

“Baby, you are too cold,” His eyes focused on the green onions in front of him. You peered over his shoulder, resting your chin on his as you pouted.

“So mean,” He scoffed out a laugh and shook his head.

“Would you like some ramen? I’m almost done.”

“That’s what smells so good?”

“Yes, let’s just say I was grossly un-prepared for that last mission and now I’m starving out of my mind,” He was quick to split the ramen into two different bowls. He then, cut the soft boiled eggs and sprinkle the green onions he just cut on top of the steaming noodles. 

“Do you mind grabbing my beer love,” you gave him a hum of approval as he picked up the two bowls in either hand. You opened the silverware draw for some chopsticks and closed it with bump of your hip.  Leon kissed the crown of your head as he lead you to the living room couch. As you sat next to the arm of the couch you set his beer on the coffee table in front of you. Leon sat right next to you so your thighs were touching. You leaned on his shoulder as you guys ate in peace. 

“I can’t believe that,”  you shook you head in disapproval as Leon told you how his mission went. 

“Tell me about it. I’m just glad to be home, I missed you.”

“I missed you more,”

“Impossible,” he mumbled against your lips before he connected his to yours. His hand rested against your jaw and you placed you hand on his thigh to stable yourself. Your bowls were left on the coffee table as your tongues did a waltz.

When you guys pulled apart for air a string of saliva kept you two  connected. Leon was quick to swipe it away.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[mak-be-ghouled]

Can I have a little snippet of Mountain/Rain? Sweet or spicy, I don’t care. 💕

Here's some sweet Mountain/Rain bc as much as I love spicy I don't think I'm good at writing it

I may have gotten a bit carried away so enjoy almost 1k words of tooth-rotting fluff under the cut

Mountain’s eyes flutter open at the first hint of sun, curse his inability to sleep in, no matter how late he may have stayed up the night before. But as the sleep induced fog dissipates from his vision, he is met with something equally as dreamlike. 

Rain, still fast asleep, sprawled out practically on top of the earth ghoul, bare chest to bare chest. Rain truly was Mountain's siren, and Mountain his pirate. Rain nuzzles in closer to Mountain’s neck in his sleep and Mountain can't help the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, filled with nothing but complete and utter adoration for the ghoul currently drooling on his chest. 

But as all good things must come to an end, Mountain knows he has to start the day, winter is approaching and the greenhouse needs his magic, regardless of how much sleep he got, his aching joints, or even his own sleeping beauty. Apparently not everything is as enraptured by his siren as he is.  

Rain begins to stir, rubbing his eyes and wining in protest as Mountain holds him tight. Not because he doesn't love being entangled in Mountain’s embrace, but because he knows what this one in particular means. Mountain only ever holds him this specific way when he's about to get up, and Rain is just as aware of the time of year as Mountain is, his own joints becoming increasingly stiff and the lake turning unbearable, even to a water ghoul such as himself.  

“I know my love, I'll be back before you wake again, I promise”  

Mountain shushes Rain's whines. 

And Rain knows the earth ghoul is telling the truth, a ghoul of routine, Mountain will return a few hours later, two steaming mugs of tea sitting next to him, his hair tied into a messy bun, reading glasses sitting low on his nose, and some romance book Rain can't ever seem to remember the title of. Rain knows he’ll wake up with his arm slung around Mountain’s hips, his head pillowed on his stomach, because even in his sleep he will always find Mountain.  

So, Rain reluctantly lets Mountain roll him off to the side and tuck him back into their plush nest, nestling his shark plushie into place, a poor excuse for a Mountain replacement if you ask Rain, but for now it'll have to do. He knows all too well that convincing Mountain to stay is impossible, truly a ghoul of routine, but he will wake again soon to that handsome face. 

Before Mountain leaves their bedroom, he pads over to what he assumes to be a sleeping Rain, pressing a kiss between his horns 

“Rest well my love, I’ll be back soon”  

Rain mumbles something unintelligible into his shark plushie 

“What was that baby?” 

Mountain giggles out the question 

“Wear a jacket...is cold out” 

Rain slurs sleepily, only a fraction more discernable.  

Mountain laughs again, 

“Yes my love, I will, promise” 

Mountain begins his trek down to the greenhouse, it shouldn't be a trek, it really isn't, but the cold weather has begun seeping into his joints already. Wrapping itself around his knees and spine, settling for its hibernation, ever persistent for the coming months. 

Not even an hour into his morning duties, Mountain hears the door of the greenhouse creek open. He expects to see Swiss or Dew, fellow early risers in the mood for a quiet morning, or a not so quiet one he supposes. What he doesn't expect to see when he turns around however, is his beautiful water ghoul, drowning in a pair sweatpants and a hoodie that must be at least 3 sizes too big for him, his hands poking out just enough to hold two steaming mugs of tea. 

Mountain huffs out a laugh as he moves towards Rain, smiling brightly and taking the mug from Rain’s outstretched hand. Mountain takes a sip of the tea, somehow it always tastes better when Rain makes it, he swears he does something to it, water ghoul magic or something else, he doesn't care to find out as long as Rain is willing to surprise him with tea. 

Rather than thanking him with words, something both of them are too tired to truly comprehend at the moment, Mountain sets his mug down, Rain following suit, and pulls the water ghoul into himself. Any tension Rain was feeling immediately dissipates as he bathes in the radiance that is Mountain in his element. 

Mountain pulls away, smiling to himself while Rain protests for the second time this morning, 

“Are those my clothes?”  

Mountain gazes down at Rain, mock interrogating 

“No, they're mine, found ‘em in my closet” 

“Rainy, baby, love of my life, you are drowning in those” 

“Nuh uh, ‘m a water ghoul, can't be drownin’” 

Mountain chuckles, and pulls Rain back to his chest 

“Everything alright?” 

Mountain asks after a long moment, a bit worried, he really did mean he’d be back soon and he was under the impression Rain was okay with that. 

“Uh huh, just missed you” 

Rain responds, pulling Mountain impossibly closer. 

Mountain smiles at that, leading Rain over to the daybed situated in the greenhouse. His knees had begun protesting all the standing and he could imagine Rain’s were probably doing the same. 

After getting settled into the daybed, Rain pushes himself up, hovering over Mountain 

“I would like my good morning kiss now” 

Rain says entirely matter-of-factly 

Mountain chuffs, 

“So now you're bossy and a thief”  

Mountain accuses an entirely unmoving Rain. 

“Whatever you want my prince” 

Mountain whispers before reaching out for Rain's cheek, pulling him into a soft kiss. Rain hums into it, content with where the morning is going. 

[honey-crypt]

Also going off of the idea that elliott is obsessed with sweets....perhaps its a way for the farmer to seduce him? Like making him some really nice brownies or something and feeding them to him, maybe leading to something spicy if theyre so inclined ✨️

a/n: hehehe this was fun to write. sadly, no nsfw cuz i wrote this at 9am and i got no horny writing juice in the early hours.... but nonetheless, enjoy!

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mention of aphrodisiacs but no nsfw

summary: you had your heart set on wooing elliott since meeting him. seeing his love for sweets, especially for chocolate, you enlist the help of evelyn to make brownies as an attempt to win him over.

★ sweetness - elliott x farmer ★

You knew Elliott had a sweet tooth with the way you would pass him by the ice cream stand nearly every afternoon in summer. He would always grab an ice cream presumably after a morning spent in the library, his order was chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles. You couldn't help but stare at him whenever you saw him eat his ice cream, almost running into a tree and dropping your geodes on more than one occasion.

Elliott, oh sweet Elliott; the moment you locked eyes with him at the beach was the moment you fell head over heels for the redheaded writer. You couldn’t help it! After all, the way he spoke so smoothly with such elegance, the small acts of kindness you witnessed him do, his passion for the arts, every part of him intrigued you. You had to learn more about him, so you did. You learned everything you could about him through your hangouts, slowly but surely becoming friends. Yet, you wanted more, you needed more, so you hatched a plan. 

Elliott’s sweet tooth was his weakness. You had seen the way he melted from the mere taste of chocolate, so it made sense that his favorite dessert was brownies. However, you weren’t the best baker, or at least you hadn’t made brownies before. Luckily, you had a solution, enlisting the best baker you knew: Granny Evelyn. 

“Oh, brownies,” the elderly woman smiled whimsily, “I haven’t made brownies in ages, my dear George and Alex always preferred my cookies.”

You frowned, “So you can’t help me bake brownies?”

She shook her head with a small laugh, “Oh, no, no, dear. I can most assuredly help you! Allow me to grab my recipe book,” the town’s grandmother perused through her kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers until she found a plastic binder. Yellowed from years of use, it was a relic of a lifetime before you. A smile broke out on your face when Evelyn informed you, “Let’s get to baking, my dear.”

Hours went by, as you gathered the ingredients needed and assembled the brownie mixture with Evelyn. Carefully, you poured out the mixture on the baking sheet and worked with Evelyn to smooth it out. Once ready, she placed the tray in the oven and handed you the chocolate-covered spatula, “Have a taste, dear.”

Curious, you licked the chocolate off the spatula and nearly went weak in the knees. It was delicious- no, it was simply scrumptious! You voiced your opinion aloud to Evelyn, “Oh my Yoba, Evelyn, this tastes so good!”

“Oh, splendid,” she smiled at you. Another hour or so went by before the oven timer dinged, signaling that the brownies were ready. A heavenly scent engulfed the kitchen when you pulled the brownies out of the oven. Your mouth watered at the sight of the crisp brownies, perfectly cooked. Evelyn chuckled at your reaction, she then proceeded to cut out a small portion of brownie and held out to you, “Have a taste, you earned it.”

You took the piece and bit into her, the chocolate melting in your mouth. Holy shit, you finished off your piece without hesitation, This is Heaven. You wiped any crumbles off your lips with a napkin (Evelyn always got on you for using your sleeve) and let out a sigh, “Thank you so much for helping me out.”

“Of course,” the grandmother patted you on the arm, “Anything for a young soul in love,” your face heated up at her comment, “Oh, did you- I’ve been alive for many decades, dear. I know love when I see it,” she answered. Evelyn handed you the plate of brownies, “I wish you the best of luck, dear.”

You set the plate down and embraced Evelyn gently, not wanting to break the older woman’s bones if you hugged too tight. You released her from the hug and picked up the plate, “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course,” she waved you off, “You can do it, (Y/N). I believe in you!” a small laugh escaped your lips at her support and exited the Mullner’s residence. You checked the time on your watch, it was around three in the afternoon. Elliott was most likely in his cabin, engaging in a writing session. He was always a hard worker when it came to his writing. 

You approached the cabin, worn out from years of exposure to the elements. Your heart fluttered when you reached the door. You held out your hand to knock on the door, but stopped yourself short, “Shit, shit,” anxiety overcame you, “This is a bad idea,” you turned on your heel, “I’ll just deliver them in the mail.”

The door suddenly creaked open, “(Y/N)?” you whipped your head back towards the door and saw the cabin’s occupant, Elliott, standing in the doorway. He wore his usual summer ensemble, a flowy turquoise shirt secured by brown suspenders and khaki pants. You gripped the tray of brownies so tight that if it was made of china, it would break; you steadied yourself before speaking, “Elliott! Hi! How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” he responded, adjusting his suspenders, “I was just about to head out to the library to return a book,” your eyes trailed off to see the book in his hands, a green cover with the words The Dunwich Horror inked on. You sheepishly smiled, “I’m sorry to disturb you, I can come back another time.”

“No, no!” exclaimed Elliott, “It’s quite alright, (Y/N),” his emerald eyes stared down the plate of brownies, “You baked brownies?” you could see his usual sophisticated expression shifted into one of child-like wonder. You gave the writer a nod of confirmation, “Well, Granny Evelyn helped me, it’s her recipe… but yeah, I baked you brownies.”

Elliott stepped back into his cabin and to the side, “Please! Please come in,” you entered the cabin wordlessly, you had only been inside on a few occasions but its design didn’t change one bit, still frugal and minimalist. You set the brownies down on the nearby table and sat down on the ground, legs crossed.

“Please,” the writer gestured to his desk, “Have a proper seat, my friend.”

“Alright,” you rose from the ground and plopped down at his writing desk. You eyed the assortment of unfinished papers and broken duck feather quills. A typewriter laid away from the mess, a paper in the center and half-filled with words. Must be Elliott’s manuscript. 

“May I have a brownie?” asked Elliott. Your eyes darted to him, the redhead hovering by the brownies with the timidness of a small child, “Of course, you can,” you gave him permission to have a brownie, “I baked them just for you.”

“You should have one!” he commented before biting into the brownie. His eyes lit up with joy, as Elliott let out a moan, “Oh my Yoba,” his voice was muffled by the brownie chunk in his mouth, “This is heavenly. You did an amazing job!”

Your face warmed up at the compliment, “Thank you. I’m glad you like them.”

“Like them?” he questioned, finishing off his brownie, “Darling, I love them.”

You concealed your flustered state by coughing into your arm, hoping Elliott didn’t notice how embarrassed you were from him calling you darling. He didn’t know how much his words had an effect on you, how easily you crumbled at the slightest smile and the simplest of pet names like dear or darling. Oh, how you wanted to take him right then and there, to show him how much he drove you mad. 

“Here,” something poked you in the cheek. You looked up and saw Elliott holding out a brownie to you, “Have a taste.”

You took the brownie and bit into it, relishing its savory delicacy. Just like Elliott, you quickly finished your brownie and let out a satisfied sigh. An idea suddenly popped up in your mind when you saw Elliott reach for another piece, “Wait,” he stopped upon hearing your voice, “I wanna try something.”

Elliott watched in bewilderment, as you grabbed a brownie from the tray. You sat next to him on the bed, the frame creaking a bit under the weight of two people. Mustering up all the courage you had, you held the brownie to his lips, “Here.”

Elliott peered down at the brownie then back at you. You were about to pull it away, cursing yourself for the stupid idea, when he bit down on the brownie. Silent, you remained still as a statue, as you fed Elliott the brownie. The cabin became uncomfortably hot, whether because of the summer heat or the odd feeling in your stomach. Yoba, oh Yoba, I wanna kiss his lips, you watched Elliott’s pretty nude pink lips move while he chewed. I need him.

“Simply marvelous,” your crush spoke up, snapping out of your fantasy. You grinned, happy that Elliott enjoyed the brownies so much, and mused to him, “They’re all yours for the keeping.”

“You spoil me,” the writer chuckled. He stood up and picked up the plate of brownies, walking over to his kitchenette and placing the plate inside the fridge. Elliott then returned to his spot on the bed with you, “I must make sure to give my thanks to Evelyn, as well.”

The temperature of the cabin intensified, a bead of sweat dripped down your forehead onto your hand. Elliott seemed to have noticed the change in temperature and cracked the window by his bed open, “Oh Yoba, I hope we get some rain soon,” he muttered, “It has been way too hot for way too many days.”

“Agreed,” you mumbled, fanning yourself with your shirt. Yoba, I need to get these clothes off. Elliott unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt, his sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and a bit of chest hair poking out, “I swear, I could be naked right now.”

You choked on air at the sudden statement. Elliott noticed your surprise and laughed loudly, uncharacteristic to his sober self. I didn’t add any alcohol to these brownies. He removed his hair tie and let his long ginger hair free, draping his shoulders. Yoba, he has the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen.

“You’re usually not this… forward,” you stumbled to find the right word, “Unfiltered? Is unfiltered the right word to use?”

“I apologize,” he wiped away some sweat with his forearm, “The heat makes me lose some sense,” Elliott leaned back and laid on the bed, his legs hanging off. You followed in suit, laying down and tilting your head to look at Elliott. He looked back at you and flashed a smile, his teeth as white and as blinding as pearls.

“You’re so beautiful,” you blurted out. His eyes widened and his cheeks turned as red as his hair, “Oh- Oh, I am?” he stuttered, unusually for such a smooth talker. You blinked and realized what you just said, letting out a squeak of horror, “Oh- Oh shit, you were not supposed to hear my inner thoughts!”

“But what if I told you that you’re so beautiful, too?”

You gawked at the redhead, “What?”

Elliott rolled over and got closer to you, your faces almost touching, “What if,” he inched closer, “I told you,” and closer, “That you’re so beautiful, too?” his lips were dangerously close to yours. Something overcame you, perhaps it was Yoba’s intervention, and you gently pecked his lips. Elliott blinked in surprise before pecking you back. The two of you exchanged a series of pecks and soon, you began to kiss one another deeper and deeper until you were full-on Fino Riza kissing. 

In the midst of your feverish makeout session, you managed to get on top of Elliott, your pelvis resting on his lower abdomen. You kissed him with all the passion you had, as did Elliott. It felt like hours had gone by before the kiss was finally broken, leaving both you and Elliott in a panting mess. 

“Wow,” you let out a shaky laugh, “I actually kissed my crush.”

“As did I,” answered Elliott, his cheeks flushed red from the heat and the energy in the room. You whipped your head around, “Wait, you have a crush on me?”

“From the moment I first laid my eyes on your beautiful self,” he confessed. You couldn’t help but laugh at the coincidence, “That’s insane because that happened to me, too,” the writer began to laugh with you, “Oh, Yoba! We could have dated much sooner!”

You paused from laughing, “Does that mean?” he nodded, “I would be honor to have you as my partner, (Y/N). Would you do me the honor and allow me to be yours?”

“Yoba, you’re too romantic for your own good,” you snorted, “But yes, I want you to be my partner,” you pressed a light kiss on his lips. Elliott smiled as big as he could after the kiss, over the moon with happiness. The two of you resumed laying down on his bed and held one another, basking in joy of your new relationship.

…

…

…

The next day after you began dating Elliott, you found Evelyn outside the Stardrop Saloon, tending to the flowers. You jogged up to her with a grin, “Evelyn!” she paused her watering and smiled back, “Good morning, dear. How are you today?”

“Really good,” you answered, “I just wanted to thank you for yesterday. Those brownies were a lifesaver,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “Me and Elliott, we- uh, we’re dating now, too.”

“Splendid!” the old woman responded, “Chocolate always puts my George in a good mood.”

“Oh really? How come?”

“I believe chocolate is a mood booster of some sort. Before him and I became the elders you see now, I used to bake him those brownies to get him in a romantic mood.”

You blinked, “Oh, I see.”

Wasn’t chocolate an aphrodisiac, as well? 

[gamerwoman3d]

Pretend I'm Him [Pt. 3]

An MK1 x Reader

Part 1 Click Here

Previous Part Click Here [Pt. 2]

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[🔞Spicy/Explicit after the cut🔞]

You looked into his eyes, thought about telling him his eyes were pretty. But you just stared. He stared back. You considered that you might be falling in love. You thought you both might be falling in love. It felt fine. You felt ready to be fully enveloped in his arms. You pulled at his biceps.

“Hold me,” you said.

...

He did so, awkward on his knees between your legs. He pushed his bare chest against yours and slid his hands across your back until his arms were all around you, wedged between your body and the plush back of the chair. He peppered your cheek with feather-light kisses, then stopped. He snuggled against you and held you, nothing more.

You expected him to make some kind of move. To play with himself, to suck your neck, to hunch you, or pull you into a better position for sex, something. It perplexed you when he did nothing to indicate any expectations of sex.

“Are you… going to have sex with me?” you asked.

“If you wish,” he replied.

“Did you not want to… fuck me?” you asked.

“This isn't about what I want,” he said, “but of course I want to fuck you.”

“Then why aren't you-”

“You look satisfied.” he interrupted.

“I am, but-”

“Good. I will feel blessed if you stay satisfied,” he said, “but I don't expect you to. I can think of all kinds of things I would enjoy doing with your body, but I cannot stress enough that this really, truly is not about me. This is about you. Your wants, your needs, your satisfaction, your fulfillment- keeping you satiated is my only goal.”

“But that's so uneven,” you said.

“I will sleep tonight knowing better than that. You can take everything you want from me and I will still be in your debt. I'm not greedy enough to put a price on the peace of mind it takes to rest well,” he said.

“But I want you to get what you want. I want to see you getting what you want,” you said.

His breath rattled in his throat as he sighed.

“What I want is for you not to see how quickly I might come undone right now,” he said.

You looked naughty the second he said that.

“Oh no,” he said.

“Can I feel? Or do you want me to stop?” You asked.

You groped his cock through the fabric. He slipped the fabric down, exposing it.

“Yes. And yes,” he said, “but go on.”

His eyelids fluttered shut and his heavy breath rattled past your ear. His cockhead felt heavier, wetter, and hotter in your hand than you were prepared for.

You needed it.

“Condoms.” you said.

“As you wish,” he said as he rose to fulfill your request.

He pushed his pants down around his hips as he stood, and stepped out of them. He motioned for you to stay. As he walked away, you were able to see the way light painted every part of his naked body.

The light glinted off the shimmering wet tip that stuck out from him, leading his way, barely bobbing as he walked out of the room. Shadows bit into the V shaped cuts from his hips to his groin. Light and shadow combined forces to reveal more muscle and sinew in his legs than you'd dared imagined. You watched the workings of his ass and thighs as he walked away and realized that with all the power contained within those muscles, he could, and was probably about, to fuck you stupid.

He returned to the room holding the still-steaming kettle, used earlier to boil water for tea. He had a stack of towels in his arm, and a string of condoms dangled from his mouth. He set everything on the tea tray as he ripped open the perforated package with his teeth. His index finger and thumb found the edge of the condom within and rolled, feeling for its direction. He rolled it down on his cock in a swift fluid motion before returning to you.

You lifted yourself higher in the chair. He reached out as if to pick you up. You raised and tucked your legs expectantly as his hands went under you to grip the lowest part of your back. You shared a moment of intense, breathy eye contact as the tip of his heavy cock touched you. You were on the brink of telling him you needed to feel it inside you when he embedded himself within you.

He plunged himself all the way to the hilt as an unexpected groan, one that resonated like a cello scratched by a tiger, escaped him. He hung his head at a low, worrisome angle, so severe that you could see the knot of his bun as he rested the top of his head against your breast to hide his widened eyes from you. His rigid body petrified while inside you. You felt very full, very snug, and warm inside with his overheated motionless cock pressed within you. But after a single lengthy, shuddering breath, he swallowed, and shook his head.

“Oh,” he said with another lengthy breath, “oh that's not fair.”

The firm hands on your back unclenched. He would not look at you as he reached around you to the base of his cock. He pulled out carefully. When he stood up, you could see the well of the condom plump and filled full of his premature cum.

For a split second, you're simply frozen with thoughts running through your head, grimacing as if you had just broken something very expensive. Do I stay still and let him handle it? Do I say anything? Do I comfort him? OH MY GOD did i just *break* the grandmaster? Wow, it's kinda hot when his legs shake under him. Wait, why didn't I get to see his face!

His legs did shake beneath him as he stumbled away from you to pull off the spent condom and dispose of it. He washed up with a bit of scalding water and a tea towel, then reached for another condom with shaky hands. Curiosity quickly replaced your anxiety as you wondered what he was about to do with it. This condom also went on his cleaned cock, to replace the last one. This time, it took more than a few strokes to get the thing rolled all the way down the erect, but softening shaft. Once the bottom edge of the condom met the base of the shaft, his lips pursed. With one hand holding the desk for support, he held and squeezed the base of his shaft tight.

The faint but unmistakable wispy tinkling sound of cryomancy pulsed briefly in the room. He winced, hiccuped, and his legs faltered in that instance. He leaned heavily against the desk until he could regain his footing.

He seemed woozy as he turned to face you. As he strode toward you you could see how he directed his ice magic: At the base of his fleshy cock, an icy cockring cut all the way through the shaft. He turned a thin slice of himself at the base of his hard cock into solid ice, to constrict the bloodflow and remain erect.

“What did you do?” you blushed as you asked.

“Something uncomfortable. But I think you might appreciate the endurance that my discomfort affords me, if you'll forgive the interruption,” he asked.

“I could forgive the interruption if you hadn't hidden your face from me,” you said.

He dropped his head, a bit defeated, at your words. When he looked up again, his face looked beautiful and tired at once. You knew he didn't intend to disappoint you: when he thought he failed to please you, he hid his face from you during the peak of his failure. But now, the look on his face was one that sought your acceptance, your forgiveness, and your assistance.

“Hmm. You want to see my O face, do you?” he asked.

“...Yes,” you whispered, “I'm growing fond of you already.”

This caused him to pause. It also caused him to relax, to melt away some of the constant tension in his shoulders.

It wasn't just that you were growing fond of him. You wanted what he could offer you: a seamless transference of your affections, from a man that abandoned your clan, to a man whose presence in your life has been a constant.

Bi-Han kissed you apologetically.

“Reaching another orgasm will take some effort on my part. Let me attempt something if I may,” he said.

You nodded approval as he reached out to you.

He hooked an arm beneath your knees and lifted them over the arm of the chair, just to turn you over and gently lay you back down upon it crosswise, so that you found yourself bent over the arm of the chair with your hip bones hooked into the armrest, your ass in the air, your toes on the carpet, and your tits dangling against the wet spot you left in the seat. You certainly could not see his face from this position, but he could see your winking cunt, completely exposed and on offer.

The feeling of exposure gave you chillbumps of excitement, while the pressure of the arm of the chair against your bladder forced the sticky, velvety inner walls of your cunt to clamp down against each other. He ran his fingers along the backs of your thighs, kneaded open your cheeks, and teased the wet slit with the tip of his cock and the pads of his thumbs as he spoke.

“I want you here, with me. And I need you to stop thinking of running away. My vulnerabilities are not for disloyal eyes,” he asked.

His touch felt fantastic. You pressed yourself back and hunched against it. Your core flinched with each little huff.

“I'm loyal,” you mewled.

“I hope so. You are going to see everything of me that you asked to see.”

He trailed kisses up your spine, inching himself deeper into your hot cunt as he went. You closed your eyes. You knew why he chose to face you away from him, he wasn't ready for you to see him like this. You understood it to mean he felt vulnerable, not yet willing to look you in the face as he readied himself for you.

He switched his voice back to his raspy Kuai Liang mimicry to murmur praises in your ear.

“Don't take me too deep,” he said, mimicking Kuai Liang, “there's a shockingly cold surprise in store for you if you do.”

You held your breath. He sounded so good mimicking Kuai Liang, but your heart had started to want Bi-Han as himself.

“What if I don't want to pretend you're him anymore?” you asked.

You felt his teeth and lips and tongue against the back of your neck, chewing deep kisses into your spine.

“Then don't,” he purred in his own, rich gravelly voice.

You squirmed under him and slipped yourself open around his cock, demanding yet pleading out loud by whining the words “give it.”

He let himself sink into you, cock slipping deeper in your warm pussy.

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