#sorry i'm incapable of writing things short

[muchtodoonterror]

I think there are a few things going on here, none of which really have to do with rationality or planning.

Treason charges: Hickey is notoriously good at talking his way into and out of things. As you say, Hodgson did jackshit at Hickey's trial; that passivity alone is potentially useful. He also notably didn't denounce him, and Hodg is great for an anecdote but he's no master manipulator. Hickey could have hoped to be able to convince a court martial that a mere caulker's mate couldn't bear the brunt of a mutiny charge when there was a lieutenant right there, and surely the higher rank should take the higher blame. (I'm not saying this is how it would have borne out, but an officer who isn't going to argue back is an officer who you can paint how you will, both in your own weird mind and to an outside observer).

Crozier: I actually do think this is a bigger motivator. We the audience know that Hodgson just kind of landed in the mutineer camp, but Crozier doesn't. And again, who is going to tell the more persuasive story here? There's a reason he brings Hodgson to Crozier's kidnapping. Just having Hodgson standing there doing nothing is a power play. Hodgson's inaction in that moment is a statement unto itself, implicitly condoning what is happening. Crozier doesn't know how he got there and hasn't seen any coercion that may have happened; for all he knows, Hodgson packed up and left by choice and is in the thick of the mutiny. Hickey absolutely would have known this and counted on what damage it would have done to Crozier's morale. It also reinforces the dwindling leadership. Irving is dead, Hodgson has defected. Jopson obviously doesn't count here, so command is down from six lieutenants to two. It's about showing that Hickey gets what he wants, that even those in the inner circle don't believe in Crozier anymore. The practicalities of what Hodgson actually brings to the mutineer table are irrelevant in the symbolic power of having him there.

It's also not about food. Hickey brought the bag of Neptune in to prove a point to Hodgson specifically. That was a gambit based on what he thought Hodgson's weak point would be, in this case the practicalities of food. I think Hickey has been planning on indulging in the "custom of the sea" the whole time, it was only a question of who would go first. In which case, actually, he may have brought Hodg along not just as a power play but as a possible very expendable source of food.

In the larger picture, what Hickey has done is recreate the broader naval structure writ small. He has ABs, stewards, a mate, marines (both private and sergeant), an assistant surgeon (gunroom officer), and a lieutenant (wardroom officer). He's got a boat, supplies, and with their stove and table set up he's effectively recreated a mess room on the shale. Hodgson completes his command structure, showing that the dissent is through all ranks, not just before the mast. It also gives more merit to Hickey's power that he's able to bring the full array under his sway. He's recreating the navy in his image. It says to Crozier, you should have respected me. It says, I too can command men. It says, I am your equal - if not your better.

For all Hickey says to privilege ones "practicals", he is not actually particularly interested in doing so. The mutiny is practical in some respects (mostly in regards to the very valid point that fewer men means fewer to share in meager stores) but I think trying to rationalize what Hodgson actually contributes to the mutiny (weird monologues) misses the point of his presence there and also gives Hickey way too much credit for practicality when his real priority is neither that nor morals but creating his own world of symbolic significance (and cannibalism).

hickey's smugness as he boasts to crozier of 'turning' hodgson is so fucking funny to me because...what exactly did that accomplish? how did hodgson in any way contribute to hickey's Deviously Evil Plan? i love that damp bug-eyed religiously-ambiguous weirdo dearly, but he's not the brains, he's not the muscle, he contributed exactly one (1) thing to the mutineers, and that was a haunting catholic monologue.

when the hunting parties set out, did hodgson use that time as a chance for some light conspiring with hickey? did he hell; he fucking ran away from the guy (and left irving to be turned into a colander). nor does hodgson's backing up of hickey's lies come across as particularly treasonously motivated on this part: this is some excellent meta of how hodge genuinely believes that the inuit slaughtered irving, so probably the paranoia induced by irving's murder would have been the same with or without hodge's turning.

and you can't tell me hodgson was insurance against hickey being punished for treason: the man did absolutely jack-shit at hickey's trial, he was hardly going to rush the gallows and save hickey before he was hung. you could, potentially, make the argument that hickey knew his plan needed the validity of an officer's presence because of Ingrained Victorian Morals, but hodgson does absolutely zero leading in the mutineers. everyone and their (dead) dog knows hickey's in charge of the mutineers. even the idea of it being a symbolic 'fuck you' to crozier by having one of his lieutenants betray him is kinda let down by the fact that hodgson's 'betrayal' is...not all that much? he freaks out about the perceived inuit attack (which he likely would have done anyway), he gets lost in the fog, and then ends up with hickey's mutineers because they're literally the only people he can find. it's not exactly an et tu brute moment from poor old hodge there.

so what exactly was the point? what is hickey boasting about? all he managed to do in turning hodge was give himself another mouth to feed. and it's even funnier because hickey's whole spiel in the scene with hodgson is basically: it's all a matter of numbers, the three of us here can have a nice meal of this dead dog, if it gets shared out among forty-odd sailors we get barely a mouthful each, dividing our food more than we need is going to screw us over. and then he consolidates this argument by...giving valuable protein to Lame Duck hodge and dividing his food more than he needs. he could have shared neptune's flesh quite easily between himself and tozer and very very little would have changed. literally all hickey achieved in the tent scene is to give himself a nice little power trip of having an officer agree to do what he says and reduces his own food intake substantially for no good reason. machiavelli my arse. what the fuck are you boasting about, hickey? giving away a good meal?

[featherstcnes]

hunting for her mark was easy. natasha could fall into a new alias, follow someone across cities, across state lines, if that was what it took. she'd done it all before -- took weeks at a time where she was everyone but herself, attempting to find intel on someone. going undercover was something she'd done her entire life. morphing into someone new, finding a new angle to go at a situation with, it was something she'd been trained to do her entire life. and while, working for shield, it wasn't exactly with as malicious of intent, it was still the same general concept.

keep to the shadows. stay hidden. glean what information you can while you have the advantage. and she had.

she'd gotten a file from shield with enough information to get her started. theodore price. smart. seemingly lived a normal life. except if he was on shield's radar, then he was far from normal. she'd been tracking him for a while - figuring out his routine, learning about the people he interacted with. she needed to know enough to find her angle in how to talk to him -- it wasn't like she could just walk up to him the moment she first saw him and demand his cooperation. it couldn't be that easy.

but this was her moment. now. " i think we need to work on your perception of people around you. i've been following you for ten minutes and you haven't even batted an eye. " okay, well, the ten minutes was a lie - it definitely had been way longer than that. days, even. but he didn't need to know that detail yet. " you must be pretty important for me to be on your tail. " she wasn't in any sort of disguise, not today. and for anyone that knew anything about the avengers, it was pretty obvious who she was. / @etoilebleu (theo)

[weecherylita]

Thoughts on the Neil Gaiman Allegations

I followed Neil Gaiman on tumblr not because I'm a massive fan of his work (I've read two of his books, and one of those he co-wrote with someone else) but because it was interesting to get behind-the-scenes info about Good Omens.

Because he seemed, for the most part, to be a pretty affable and interesting person.

Because it was nice to see someone so prominent be willing to assert the rights and dignity of lgbt people, and most especially trans people in this era where they are being consistently vilified and used as a political punching bag in my own country and elsewhere.

Because his writing advice was decent, and he seemed to value and support artistic endeavour in all its forms.

Because the stories from readers talking about what his work had meant to them were a consistent reminder of the power of art to connect us all and transform our lives.

Because he consistently advocated kindness.

(I know some people have been saying he couldn't handle criticism and he bad-mouthed other public figures, but I think I must have missed those incidents - my impression was that he was very often complimenting and defending people).

It was a horrible shock to learn that (yet again) a creator I respected fell so far short of embodying the values he spoke up for. When things like that happen it can make you question human decency itself, especially when it just seems to keep happening again and again; public figures who seem so progressive turn out to be abusers. Is human goodness just a story we tell ourselves? Is genuine progress even possible, when those who speak up for it prove themselves to be so incapable of living by those ideals?

I don't know how much of Gaiman's public persona was genuine and how much was just a front for some consciously manipulative and predatory behaviour. To be honest, I'm not sure I care if we ever find out how much of what we saw was real. He's lost our respect - most likely forever, and he shouldn't be put in a position where he can abuse people's trust again.

I'm sorry for the people he hurt, and I hope they get time to heal.

And I think those values that I saw in him are all still true, even if he is false.

Kindness and decency is still something to live by, even and especially in times of darkness.

Art still has the power to move, connect and transform us, whether you want to keep reading Gaiman's works or not (and if you're finding it tough because you've lost that enjoyment and connection to stories that meant a lot to you, know that there WILL be other works out there that can make you feel it again).

Creative endeavour IS still inherently valuable.

Transgender lives and identities still matter. Transgender people are still deserving of dignity and respect. There may be plenty of transphobic people out there who feel emboldened by this, and I'm not gonna pretend to understand exactly how scary and horrible that must feel. All I can say is that there are other people out there who still believe in you, and still want to support you.

Human decency is not a lie. I guess we need to be wary of public figures who come across as too good to be true and remember that everyone has capacity for both good and bad, but not everyone fails as badly as him. Not everyone succumbs to their worst instincts. Not everyone is an abuser. Human goodness is still alive, and something to strive toward and take comfort in.

[foone]

(Sorry if this sounds mean) If you’re ace why are you looking for mind control erotica? This isn’t a bad faith question, as someone who’s aro but not ace I’m genuinely curious. Maybe expounding on it would help your followers point you at new things?

Also have you read Human Domestication Guide? It’s very mind controlly, though it does have pet stuff if you hate that or whatever.

Short answer: it's complicated.

So to answer in reverse order: I have read some HDG stories: not enough to remember what I read, but in general I like them. And petplay doesn't bother me. So I'll probably read more in future, it's just that it never triggered that "I should read all of this!" urge in me. Which isn't an indicator of how much I like it/the quality of it, that's just a thing that sometimes happens to my brain.

As for why I'm reading mind control erotica despite being asexual... It's complicated (as you might guess).

Basically I'm asexual in the "not attracted to men or women (or anything else/between)" sense. I don't experience sexual attraction, at all.

But that's only one part of sexuality. It may be the primary part for allosexuals, but it obviously can't be for me. I'm still interested in some sexual things, and I'm interested in them for sexual reasons, but it's just that those reasons are never "this person is hot" or "this sex is hot".

Like, not to give a complete listing of my kinks or anything, consider basic rope bondage as a fetish. You could look at the fetish from multiple angles:

It's sexy getting tied up, because of the physical sensation of being tied up.

It's sexy to be tied up, because you don't have control.

It's sexy to tie someone up, because of how they look tied up.

It's sexy to have someone tied up, because you have control and they don't.

It's sexy to have sex while tied up, because you can't resist it (in the scene. This is fantasy, there are safewords)

It's sexy to fuck someone tied up, because they can't resist (in the scene, fantasy, safewords)

And then in fiction you can do the last two minus the watsonian-bdsm: it's not a scene. (I won't discuss this further because discourse)

Only 5 and 6 really need sex itself to be a part of it. You can have the eroticism of bondage and no one has sex, or needs to be attracted to anybody.

I don't have a huge amount of experience here, but from what I've heard this isn't that uncommon in the bdsm community: there's plenty of people who show up at bdsm events solely for "non-sexual" tying/getting tied.

Anyway, once you understand that you can have a kink (even one that seems sexual) for reasons other than sexual attraction/sex* itself, you can probably see why an asexual person might still want to read about it.

Also there's elements of, like, exploration of personal impossibilities? As jms said:

So I cannot forgive. Which makes the notion of writing a character who CAN forgive momentarily attractive...because it allows me to explore in great detail something of which I am utterly incapable. I cannot fly, so I would write of birds and starships and kites; I cannot play an instrument, so I would write of composers and dancers; and I cannot forgive, so I would write of priests and monks and Minbari...

It can be interesting reading stories of people doing things you can't for reasons you never experience, obeying urges you don't have.

* "sex" is also a difficult thing to define, because especially in BDSM terms it gets very fuzzy. What things count as sex? Generally when I say like "they're spending too much time on the sex" or "the mind control is just an excuse to get to the sex", I'm defining sex as something like "some kind of insertion/licking/vibrating for sexual purposes", when many allosexuals (especially, uhh... What's the word for non-bdsm people? Them) would define it more narrowly, and many BDSM kinksters would define it more widely, including a lot of the things I'm not here: I've heard people call getting tied up or impact play as sex, for example.

Anyway you'd think this sort of perspective I've got on erotic fiction, where I'm here for the non-sex sexual fetish things, would be more common? After all, I'm talking about literature here. I tend to associate the allosexual attraction urge as a visual thing: this person looks sexy, so you experience sexual attraction towards them.

I can see how that'd work if you're talking about visual mediums: movies and photos of real people, even drawn images, but this is just words. I guess maybe people without aphantasia can imagine how someone looks from their description, and can experience some attraction based on that? I don't know. I've never really experienced attraction to written characters, so I can't say how it works. Feel free to enlighten me, anyone who does.

But you can definitely tell reading erotica which stories are "this is a sexy story because it has sexy people in it doing sexy things (sometimes kinkily)" and which are "this kink is the primary focus: any sex they have is in service of the kink, or is just a momentary distraction from the kink". I prefer the latter, by far.

Anyways, I think maybe I'm giving everyone a slightly misleading impression of how much I'm into mind control. It's more that I've found a few stories that actually were interesting to me for a couple reasons (first person submissive perspective, rules-based mind control, some worldbuilding) and then I've been looking for other stories that explore the same ideas as well (or better: the particular ones I liked had a little too much bimboification focus for me, which isn't one of my kinks) and failing. Thus I complain a lot about not being able to find the sort of stories I want.

Which, you know, makes sense? I'm an asexual reading through porn. Despite my explanation in this post, this is still not a great fit for me, so of course I'm disappointed. It'd be like if I was scrolling through a football site and not liking football, complaining about how much sports focus this site has. It's a little silly, you know?

But I'm a lot silly, so I continue.

[kiwi-on-ice]

something nasty with miss moira PLEASEEEEE … preferably her receiving in some way .. it’s so hard to find moira fics with the reader giving to her 🙏

Moira O'Deorain x fem!reader

Summary: After a stressful day at the lab, your lover gets home in a foul mood. Luckily, you know just what to do to get her relaxing again.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: dom!Moira, cunnilingus, slight hair pulling, pet names

Notes: Hope this is okay sweetheart! Sorry it's on the short side, i've got loads of requests in my inbox. I'm kinda incapable of writing Moira anything other than quite dominant aha but you're right, we need to give the woman more fr.

The slam of the door reverberates around the apartment which can mean only one thing; Doctor O’Deorain has had a very bad day.

This wasn’t exactly unusual; she’d mentioned some deadlines she needed to meet from her new shady employer, and she was never one to shy away from late nights at the lab to run final tests for her work. But sometimes, the stress and the pressure of being one of the leading scientific minds in the world can get to her, irritation coursing through her veins.

In bed, you sit up a little and put your phone down as your lover enters the room. Immediately you can see the dark circles under her eyes, the way her shoulders tense and her usually styled hair lay tangled on her head. You ask if she’s alright, and you’re met with a noncommittal hum as she sits on the bed. Quickly you climb from under the covers to sit at her side, not wanting to initiate any contact too soon, in case you cause her to freeze up.

“Apologies pet, I’m just…’ she starts, before sighing. She always attempts to hide the things that bother her, always a wall around her emotions and complexities that she's built after years of letdowns and hardships.

“Stressed?” You finish her sentence for her, as she nods. You hum softly, gently resting your head against her shoulder. She gently drags her nails along your back, feeling your skin through the flimsy nightdress you were wearing.

A wave of self consciousness fills you suddenly, not wanting to be dressed so skimpily while you try and comfort her, as you slightly shield yourself with your hands. This causes a tut to escape the doctor’s mouth as she moves your arms away.

“Don’t hide bunny.” She chastises.

“Sorry…it’s just you’re-“

“And you think your sweet looks don’t make me feel better?” She interrupts, her hand coming to your waist. You can’t help but flush, relief washing through you. But also a sense of pride…that only you can help her, with your body and your personality. Breaking down the doctor’s walls so you can crawl your way into her life and soul.

But you want to do more, want to really help her and soothe her ails after such a bad day…and when she teasingly grips your hip, a plan is set in motion.

“I can really make you feel better.” You suggest, looking up at her with the most faux innocent eyes you can manage.

She smirks in response, raising an eyebrow a little. “Oh can you?”

You nod, before sliding off the bed and kneeling between her legs. Glancing up, you swear you can see the older woman’s breath catch as she observes you kneeling so sweetly. She caresses your hair, causing you to let out a satisfied hum.

“Let me help you…make you feel better.” You say gently, your hands gently stroking her thighs. With a soft grunt she nods, tugging your hair tenderly.

Nimble fingers start to undo her black trousers, pulling the zip and tugging them down her slender legs. Swallowing your excitement, you gently kiss along her thighs, working your way upwards.

“Don’t tease pet.” She grunts, clearly her desperation for release getting the better of her as she tugs your hair again. You relent, not before giving a teasing kiss to her clothed cunt over her boxer briefs, licking gently and causing her breath to stutter.

Not wanting to aggravate her further, you pull down her underwear to fully reveal her to your hungry eyes. Glancing up, you keep eyecontact as you softly lick a stripe upwards. You’re rewarded with a soft noise, one unfamiliar to your ears from Moira which causes your confidence to surge. You lick a few broad strokes a few times before moaning into her.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me bunny…” she praises, her words more gentle than the usual condescending tone she usually utilises in the bedroom. “So sweet.”

You keen under her praise, your tongue circling her clit. Eyes fluttering closed, you surrender yourself to the headspace of pleasuring her, soft noises escaping your throat. Instinctively your hands go to hold her thighs, until she moves them in a silent command to have them behind your back. Knowing she likes how submissive it makes you look, you lace your fingers behind you as you devour her cunt like a woman starved.

Feeling her taste on your tongue only spurs you on more and more, making soft whimpers against her sensitive areas. Her decayed hand grips your hair, the callous skin causing a shiver to dance from your scalp down your spine. She holds you in place, your tongue flicking her clit with a precision that comes with being hers for a while now.

"That's it, don't you dare stop." she says, her shaky tone betraying how affected she is.

You wouldn't dream of stopping, moving your head from side to side to ensure you taste every bit of your lover. She holds your hair in a type of makeshift ponytail, bucking her hips into your mouth.

"Yes, coinín maith..." she lets out a soft moan, causing your own cunt to throb at her noises. Letting her use you never fails to make you horny for more, more of her. But it also never fails to make the doctor feel powerful, having such a good girl on her knees, ready to serve. It gives Moira a power rush like no other, the intense pleasure your tongue provides being a very good bonus.

Another moan escapes you as you can sense her getting close, her thighs tightening around your head. Flicking your tongue in firm, precise strokes, you almost groan in pain as her nails dig in to your scalp. But you don't pull away, don't stop. You just keep tasting her.

Finally, she finishes in your mouth with a low groan, her body relaxing. You climb up off the hard floor and join her on your bed, glancing at her as she comes down from her high. Shoulders visibly untensing, muscles relaxing, and almost a slight smile tracing her lips as she hooks an arm around you to bring you close to her chest.

"Thank you love." she whispers quietly, the term of endearment not lost on you as you feel your cheeks warm.

"Are you feeling a bit better?" you ask hopefully, shifting to look up at her; almost like a worshipper of a deity.

She answers with a curt nod, her nails still tracing your scalp. "Yes bunny, although..."

Before you can register what's going on, she has you on your back. "I think a second round may be in order."

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

First Loves and Second Glances

Han Jisung is madly in love with his childhood best friend/roommate and has absolutely no way of telling her so he does what he thinks is best and pulls away from her. The pair end up having a movie night where all is revealed, changing the dynamics of their relationship forever.

This is my own work not a reblog, please do not repost or translate! This work of fiction is 18+ so minors DNI.

Content Warnings - childhood friends au, college au, roommates au, friends to lovers au, nipple play, vaginal fingering, pet names, cursing, oral sex (male receiving), body worship, very very light angst, porn with feelings

Word Count: 5,360 (I am seriously incapable of writing short fics, I'm so sorry 😂🙈)

Navigation

Y/L/N Y/N and Han Jisung have been roommates for what seems like forever and friends for even longer, first meeting when they were both wide eyed and chubby 5 years olds looking for a friend on the playground. They had stayed at each other's sides through every up and down life thrown their way, for every big life event and now they were living together while attending the same college. Y/N was studying War and World History while Han was of course studying Audio Production and Engineering, it had seemed like the obvious choice for them to live together while venturing out into the unknown.

The atmosphere is calm and quiet as they sit across from each other, Y/N reading an interesting book about Dokkaebi while Han stares blankly at the ceiling. Y/N looks up from her book to see Han with his arms outstretched and his body slumped over almost fully on the floor as he screeches loudly before locking eyes with the girl across from him "I'm bored!" He whines impatiently as his arms flop around making Y/N giggle under her breath "do something productive then Ji" she explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world which makes the boy pout and whine "but do what Y/NNN" she rolls her eyes at his antics before suggesting "why don't we watch that marvel movie you like? the Spiderman one? we could make popcorn and get some fluffy blankets to snuggle up with? chilled night in" she finishes smiling at him.

Han's chocolate coloured eyes light up at the mention of the movie as he nods eagerly "yeah, that sounds like a plan!" He grabs her hand and starts to pull her along "let's go!" she shakes her head slightly while smiling and allows her friend to pull her from where she had been sat on the plush sofa "I'm coming Ji, you can set up Disney Plus and I'll grab the popcorn" Han finally let go of her hand and skips over to the TV stand, his excitement evident in his movements. He grabs the remote and begins to search for the movie on the streaming service, meanwhile Y/N makes her way to the kitchen to prepare the popcorn.

Y/N smiles as she thinks about how cute Jisung is when he's in moods like this but shakes her head of the thoughts and grabs the bag putting it into the microwave then dumping the contents into a large bowl and sitting back down on the sofa, Han finally finds the movie pausing it as the movie starts to play to let them get comfortable. He hums along to the familiar theme song, his excitement growing. Once everything was set up, he turns to Y/N with a bright smile "alright, it's ready I'll grab the blankets" she smiles back and nods patiently waiting for him to return.

Once he's back he throws the blankets onto her head with a laugh before plopping himself down next to her "you're such a child Ji" she laughs as she shoves the blankets back at him before draping them over the pair and smoothing them down, Han giggles like a schoolgirl and rolled his eyes playfully. He acknowledges in his own mind that she was just teasing him; he snuggles closer to her under the blanket, his warmth enveloping them both "you love it when I act like this" he laughs as she pushes his side playfully "do I?" she giggles pressing the popcorn bowl into his arms before she presses play on the device and settles herself into his side.

Han takes the popcorn bowl gratefully starting to munch on the popcorn, he rests his chin on her head with his eyes fixed on the screen. As the movie starts he let out a content sigh and snuggled deeper into the plush blankets, as he gets comfy Jisung's left hand moves down to rest on her hip effectively pulling her closer to his frame as his gaze is focused on the movie. Y/N feels him pulling her into him and her face heats up a little, they usually cuddle all the time but things have felt different lately Jisung's been acting a little standoffish and having him do close was causing an unknown feeling to inch across her chest.

She snuggles closer to her friend's chest and without looking at him breaks the silence "I've missed this, getting to chill out with my best friend watching movies y'know you haven't been around much lately" she can't help the pout that adorns her glossy lips, his heart skips a beat when he feels her hand on his chest.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had been pulling away from her a bit lately and the guilt he's been feeling is squeezing his chest as he sighs "I know and I'm sorry" he tears his gaze from the screen to look down at her "we'll do this more often, I've missed it too" she hums at his words and pushes his chest slightly giggling "we had better! You've been with Changbin and Chan a lot lately, I've been feeling kinda... left out" she admits as she pouts again and rests her head on his chest as she mumbles "been missing my best friend" Han's heart clenches tightly when she mentions Changbin and Chan.

He knew he'd been spending more time with them but he had to pull away from her for his own sanity. Being around the girl he harboured such a big crush on was hurting him, everytime she smiled at him or giggled at his antics it sent a harpoon straight to his heart and he couldn't be the friend she deserved unless he took a break from being planted firmly at her side. Even now with her small hand curled into his shirt and her head against his chest it was making his heart fill with love and affection "I know I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you I promise" she sighs softly at his words "I know you will Ji" she mumbled into his chest, her fingers tightening their hold on his shirt "I've missed just being with you like this" she admitted quietly, her cheek still resting against him and a small pink blush dusting her cheeks.

She clears her throat slightly before she asks "how are the guys? they've been keeping you so busy but you never talk about what you get up to?" She tries to smile as she pushes down the slight sting of jealousy setting root in her chest, Han feels her fingers tighten their grip and can't help but smile softly. She never was very good at hiding her feelings from him, he knew she was probably feeling a little jealous and of course left out as she had said and it stung at his chest that he had caused those feelings "they're fine" he shrugs "there's not a lot to tell honestly, we usually just hang out at the gym" she frowns at his words but decides to leave it if he doesn't want to talk about it "are you staying here tonight? it's been a while since my roommate stayed in his own bed" she squints her eyes in a mildly accusatory manner as she waggles her finger at him.

Han chuckled softly at her playful manner and grabs her finger tugging her fully into his body as they both laugh "yeah I am, after the movie I'll be heading to bed I think" as his words trail off he yawns and lifts his arms over his head making his shirt lift revealing some of his toned skin, her eyes flick down as she sees the material lift and gulps as his toned abs are flashed momentarily. She quickly averts her eyes so as to not be caught ogling her friend's bare skin as she tries to move the inappropriate thoughts out of her mind "aww poor baby had a long day huh Ji" she stifles a laugh as she teases him.

Han couldn't help but laugh at her reaction throwing his head back and whining "I'm fine, just a little tired" he shrugs his shoulders and looks down at her face which is now not attached to his body, making him want to pout and pull her back to him but he refrains "so how have you been lately since as you so eloquently put it I've been a little MIA?" she nods and shrugs "been okay, just gone to lectures and came home" she laughs softly as she shakes her head "it gets boring here with you not around so you need to come home more often okay?" She intertwines her fingers and gives him her best puppy dog eyes.

Han couldn't help how his heart beat a little faster looking at her cute face smiling at her puppy dog eyes as he covered his eyes dramatically "oh god no! not the eyes" he cries as she laughs at him "I'll try my best to come home more often" he pulls her back to him and nuzzles her cheek with his nose, the pair had always been physically affectionate with each other so having him not be around had left her feeling down and mopey.

Y/N playfully attempts to push his face away though she secretly enjoys and has missed his touches "good because otherwise I'd have to put my foot up your ass and drag you back here" she turns her attention back to the movie trying to concentrate a little.

Han couldn't help but chuckle at her playfulness, glad she had seemingly forgiven him, his heart still racing a little from her body being near his own "oh you wound me! You'd really kick my ass?" he teases with his body still pressed against hers "I most definitely would if you deserved it" she smirks at his shocked face "it would make me a little sad though to hurt your adorable face" she uses her hands to gently grip his jaw as she pushes his cheeks together, squeezing the soft skin under his fingers.

He looks down at her a little dazed as a blush creeps up his neck from her teasing, his heart skipping a beat as he looks into her eyes "you're so mean to me sometimes" he whines trying to hide racing heartbeat, his arms move to grip her wrists and his eyes can't help but watch her pretty face. Her thumbs smooth over his face as she stops playing his cute cheeks "I know and somehow you still love me" she giggles as she moves her hands away.

He bites his lip as he looks at her and nods replying before he can think about what he's saying "yeah, I really do love you" his eyes slowly sink down to her lips. Her eyes widen slightly at his words and she feels like can barely breathe as she realises her best friend is looking at her lips like he's about to kiss her "you what?" she whispers barely audible.

Han's eyes widen once he realises what he had said out loud but it was too late the truth was there, he loved her, and all he could do now to fix the situation was to try to brush it off "I mean, I love you, as a friend you know... yeah that what I meant..." he stutters as he looks away completely embarrassed and feeling a sting enter his heart as he took her reaction as a rejection. Y/N frowns as she looks at his dejected face, he's starting to move away from her as she realises so she needs to act quickly "wait Ji" she grabs his arms and pulls him back towards her but he just looks down and fiddles with the blankets "please look at me Jisung" but Han couldn't look at her, his lip was starting to wobble as tears started to brim against his eyelashes and he simply shakes his head not trusting his words.

She feels desperation claw at her chest as she scrambles to fix the situation "Jisung please just look at me, we need to talk about this" she pleads with him "do you really..." she can't finish her sentence as anxiety runs along her arms to her heart, the words she wants to speak stick to her throat and tongue. He closes his eyes tightly before he nods still not looking at her and sighs "yeah I really do" he takes a deep breath before he opens his eyes and looks at her "I really do love you, with all of my heart" he barely gives her a moment to digest the information before he's stuttering over his words "I always have but I don't expect... it doesn't have to change... I know you probably don't feel the sa-" his words are cut off as Y/N grips the back of his neck and plants a small chaste kiss against his lips "stop rambling Ji" she smiles as she kisses him again as gently as a feather brushing against his skin while she waits for him to calm down enough for them to talk.

Han couldn't believe it. He was stunned for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, his lips finding hers in a much more passionate kiss this time around. He groans into the kiss, his heart racing as he feels her body pressed against his. She giggles at his forwardness when just a moment ago he was so shy, she pulls away from his tight hold on her body just slightly so she can look at his face "I love you too Ji" she smiles before giving him a soft kiss on his lips then plants a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Han's heart skips a beat at her words, his eyes widening in surprise before he pulls her back into a hug, his face buried in her neck. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he speaks again "you do? fuck... please don't play with me Y/N" he whimpers as he holds her tight "please be really real with me right now" she frowns as she places her hands on his cheeks to holds him steady so he can look into her eyes as she speaks "I love you Ji, I'm so in love with you" she breathes out as she smiles "I love you so much and I have since the day you fell over that hot dog cart trying to get food for us…"she pauses as he smiles at the memory "you make me smile on my darkest days and you've had my back for so long now I... I can't imagine my life without you" Han's eyes widen in disbelief as he stares into her eyes.

Taking in every word she says. He feels like he's floating on air, his heart soaring with happiness. He's so lost for words all he can do is pull her onto his lap into his arms as a tears of happiness runs down his cheeks "oh Ji" she whispers as she uses her thumb to swipe away the stray tears "why are you crying" she frowns slightly, her brow creasing "I'm just so happy Y/N" he says, his voice cracking slightly as he wipes away more tears as they drop to his cheeks "I love you so much" he whispers, his lips brushing against hers softly before pressing into a more passionate kiss "always have, always will" he mumbles against her lips.

She nods and smiles at his words before she returns his kisses, greedily enjoying the feeling of his lips finally on her own wanting to take her time to live in this moment she has waited so long for. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls herself impossibly closer to his body, the movie long forgotten and the popcorn set to the side of the sofa. Han's heart races as he feels her pull him closer, his hands finding their way to her waist before sliding up to her back, pulling her body flush against his. He deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing her lips gently before slipping inside her mouth in a passionate embrace.

Y/N whimpers slightly, feeling his hands move over her body before she pulls away breathlessly, she rests her forehead against his own "how come you never told me" Han's breathing is heavy as he looks into her eyes, his heart racing. "I... I didn't want to ruin our friendship," he admits his voice barely above a whisper. "I wasn't sure you would even like me back" he mumbles as he sighs "you're so important to me sweetheart, I couldn't bear the thought that you'd reject me and it'd all be so awkward that we couldn't be friends anymore" she blushes a soft pink at the sudden term of endearment "I'd never be able to just walk away from you Ji no matter what happened between us, it'll always be us two against the world" she smiles as she rubs her nose against his own.

His heart swells at her words, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he nods "us against the world sweetheart," he whispers before giggling sweetly, his fingers tracing her jawline gently "god I love you so much" he bites his lip as he moves to place soft kisses against her cheek and jaw, her eyes flutter shut as she enjoys his soft touches "I love you too Han Jisung" she whispers as to not disturb the atmosphere that has settled over them she threads her fingers through his hair as she holds him close, still sat in his lap.

Han's heart skips a beat at her words, his fingers tightening around her waist as he leans into her touch "you have no idea how long I've waited for you to say that," he whispers, his lips brushing against her earlobe "and now that you have, I'm never letting you go again" his teeth graze over her earlobe as he nibbles on the skin gently.

A whine catches in her throat as he teases her "you'd better not, I know where you live" she smiles gently as she subconsciously shifts in his lap causing his grip on her body to tighten. Han chuckles softly, his hands moving to cup her face gently "you're stuck with me now," he murmurs before leaning in to capture her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. He lets out a groan as she continues to wiggle in his lip "I'm trying real hard to be good here sweetheart" he moves his hand down to grip her hips tightly "but if you keep moving I'll have no choice but to stop holding back" he looks into her eyes with a mischievous glint shining in his own irises.

Her eyes widen slightly as she realises what she's been doing and is now able to feel the start of his excitement poke against her inner thigh from where she's sat on his lap. She gives another experimental and this time purposeful roll of her clothed crotch against his own causing him to groan again "maybe I don't want you to be hold back anymore Ji" she breathes out as she bites her lip, Han's head tips back against the plush material of their sofa as he rocks his hips up against her body at her teasing movements "fuck" he groans unashamed, his heart races as he feels her moving against him his hands gripping her hips tighter "then I guess I'll have to show you what happens when I'm not holding back" he smirks as he attaches his lips to her neck.

Y/N bites back a moan at the feeling of his clothed member rocking against her core "I've always wondered what you'd feel like" she gasps as he sucks and nibbles against her neck "when your fucking me" she rolls her hips harder grinding down against his body making wetness start to form against her panties making the material stick to her lower lips. Han's breath hitches as he feels her moving against him, his heart racing with anticipation "you're so fucking sexy," he murmurs against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tighter, he pulls back slightly to admire the marks he's left along the column of her neck "never realised my sweet girl was so dirty" he smirks as he moves a hand from her hip under her shirt feeling the skin of her tummy as his hand travels up and stops at her lacey bra.

Y/N's body shudders under his touch "only for you Ji'' she whimpers as she lifts her shirt up and over her head to expose her half naked upper body she reaches down to tug at the hem of Jisung's shirt "off please" he hums a little as he pretends to think "only because you asked so nicely" he smirks as he pulls his shirt over his head watching as she explores his chest with her hands "like what you see baby? 'cause I do '' he admires her black lace bra for a moment before he reaches behind her back to unclip it, letting it fall to the floor exposing her nipples to the cold air of the room.

She nods her head quickly "didn't realise you'd gotten to big" she murmurs as she lets her fingers wander down his chest "all that time with Changbin and Chan worked out for the best I guess" she smirks before she gasps, her back arching slightly as Han suddenly takes one of her nipples into his mouth. Han smirks as he hears her gasp "sorry couldn't wait any longer" his tongue licks over the hardening bud and he can't help the groan that escapes his mouth as he feels her arching into his touch.

He releases her nipple with a pop and smirks "you'll have to thank them when I finally let you out of my bed" he smirks before moving to the other nipple giving it the same attention. She lets out soft moans as he teases her nipples into small peaks, sparks of pleasure slipping down her body straight to her core as it starts to become unbearably wet "Ji... baby I need you" she moans again as she grinds her crotch against his now fully hard covered length.

Han groans low in his throat as he feels her wetness start to seep through her pants "oh yeah? where do you need me sweetheart" Y/N whimpers and grinds down on him against but Han tuts at her "use your words baby or we'll stay like this" she groans frustrated and grabs his wrist putting his hand down her pants "look what you've done to me Ji" she sighs as she feels his fingers start to explore her body.

He chuckles as he feels her warmth and readiness for him. He slowly starts to tease her entrance with his fingers, moaning softly as he feels her wetness coat his fingers "you're so fucking wet and tight baby, this all for me?" she nods her head and closes her eyes as she feels his fingers teasing at her walls as he pushes two fingers straight into her waiting entrance, a moan floods past her throat as he pleases her "all for you baby, only you" Han growls as he feels her walls start to clench around his fingers.

He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of her tight heat, moaning her name as he takes her "that's it baby, take my fingers. Show me how much you want me" she nods her head quickly "want you so bad Ji, please I need it" she whines as she rocks against his thick fingers "need your cock now" the brunette underneath her groans as he feels her tight heat squeezing his fingers. He pulls his fingers out of her slowly, leaving her aching for more "not yet sweetheart, trying to prep you" he brings his fingers up to his mouth and sucks her essence off with a moan at her taste.

Y/N shakes her head "I'm good, I can take it I'm so fucking wet please baby. Please Ji" she begs as she moves away to stand tugging her pants and panties down and throwing them off to the side before she climbs back onto his lap, Han shakes his head while laughing "fuck... you have no idea what hearing you beg for my cock is doing to me" he groans as he taps her thighs "up" she lifts up off his lap enough for him to shimmy his pants and boxers down letting his hot thick length spring up as a bead of precum beads down the head.

Once his pants are down Y/N finds purchase back on his thighs as her eyes watch the pre cum leaking from his slit, without much thought she bends down and swirls her tongue over the head of his cock before moving down to follow the streams of his pre, she licks it all up dutifully as he gasps feeling her warm tongue over his sensitive length. She lets out a soft moan as she finally tastes him, his eyes roll back into his head as he feels her warm tongue swirling around his head.

He grips the sides of the sofa as he chokes out a moan "F-fuck sweetheart, wasn't expecting you to suddenly start licking my dick like that" she smiles as innocently as she can, batting her eyelashes at him "sorry Ji I couldn't help myself, had to taste you" she gives him one last look and a wink before she gets back to work swirling her tongue over his slit continuously, licking up all the fluid releasing from his body "fuck you taste good and so pretty too" she switches from gently licking to suckling on his dick using her tongue to lick at the veins that run on the underside of his cock.

Han's hands grip the sofa tightly as he feels her warm mouth engulfing his cock head. He groans deeply, his hips bucking up involuntarily "fuck... Y/N" he pants out her name between moans "you're killing me, if you keep sucking me in like that I won't last" his thighs start to shake against her dainty hands. She gives him one last hard suck before she releases him with a 'pop' and a satisfied smile on her face, she crawls back up to him and hovers just above his spit covered cock "wanna ride you now, 'kay Ji? need to ride you" his breathing is ragged as he watches her crawl back up to him, the sight alone making his dick throb with need.

He nods eagerly, his eyes locked on hers "y-yes sweetheart, I want you to ride me" he stutters out his hands reaching down to grab her hips "shit please, ride me" she nods eagerly giving him one last look to make sure it's what they both want before she sinks down onto him, slowly taking him to the hilt as he stretches her walls so deliciously that she has to close her eyes at the stinging pleasure, she takes a moment to enjoying having his cock spearing her wet pussy.

Han's eyes roll back in his head as he feels her tightness engulfing him so beautifully he chokes out a groan "fuck wait - shit sweetheart you feel SO fucking good... I need a moment or I'll cum right now- shit" he breathes heavily as she giggles watching his struggle. After a few moments he nods and moves his hands to grip her hips tightly. Taking his nod as her sign to move she slowly starts to rock her hips in shallow thrusts, the movement causing both of them to moan in unison "ohh Ji~ you feel soo good inside me, fill me up so perfectly" she babbles as she starts rocking up and down faster.

Han's grips on her hips turns bruising as he holds her tight enjoying the feeling of her bouncing on his cock "always wondered what you'd look like... fuck- taking my cock" he groans as he moves a hand from her hip to her breast teasing the nipple in his fingers "god it's so much better than I imagined" he huffs out a short laugh at the thought before it twists into a moan as she moves faster.

She whimpers at his words as her thighs start to shake and feel the burn of the position she's been in for a while now but she can't slow her rhythm not when Jisung's cock is hitting her g-spot so perfectly that it's making her thoughts turn to white noise "used to think of your thick fingers working me open to take your cock when I would touch myself" she moans as her hips stutter slightly after a particularly deep downwards thrust "f-fuck~" she bites her lip hard. Her confession shocks him slightly before the lewdness of it spikes across his chest and makes his dick throb "y-you'll have to show me one day... how you play with your pretty little pussy" he grunts as he feels her pace falter, seeing she's getting tired he takes matters into his own hands.

Jisung moves his hands down to her thighs spreading them open as he thrusts up into her setting a rough pace that has her mewling against him, all she can do is nod furiously as her moans grow in volume "there Ji~ right there don't fucking stop!~" she whines loudly as her head lolls back and her thighs tremble. Her grip on his shoulders falters as he thrusts faster to meet her request.

Han's groans as she tightens around his length "play with your clit baby while I fuck you" his thrusts get faster as sweat beads across his forehead and chest, Y/N bites her lip as she sucks on her fingers before reaching down and rubbing fast circles against her swollen nub, every thrust and swipe of her finger gets her closer to her peak "J-Ji I- shit! fuck!" she gasps her chest heaving as her orgasm starts to hit.

Han bites his lip as her pussy clamps down tight on his cock as one last deep thrust sends her over the edge, her body shaking wildly as she moans his name cumming hard "shit! shit! Baby I'm C-Cumming! gonna fill you up with my cum" Jisung bites his lip as he gives a few last deep thrusts before he cums. Hot ropes of thick white cum paint her walls as their highs crest together, Y/N chest heaves as she starts to come down from the intense high.

Han's grip on her body loosens as she falls onto his chest, his throbbing cock still buried deep in her walls ``that was... intense" she smiles as she rests her head on his bare chest, Han chuckles as he kisses her forehead "glad you enjoyed it sweetheart" once his cock finally softens he lifts her body slightly and pulls himself out of her before returning her body back to his own. Y/N gives him a bright smile before resting her head back on his chest "we should probably talk about this" she grips his side tightly "us" Han nods in agreement "in the morning, for now let's just enjoy the moment and go to bed" he kisses her forehead then her cheek before lifting her into his arms and carrying her to his room.

She sighs contentedly as he slips her into his bed before climbing in behind her and pulling her close, he kisses her neck one last time before whispering "I love you Y/N" her heart skips a beat as she feels his warm breath against her neck "I love you too Ji" she smiles before letting sleep take her tired body.

Banner by: @cafekitsune 💙

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I'm just going to come right out and say it, I love Kafka Hibino. He's so goddamn cute that I literally want to just eat him alive. This is my first time writing for him - though I've been thinking about it for ages. I hope you like it, @supersecretsaga And I apologize, I'm wholly incapable of writing without it exceeding 1k words. So, SORRY. I proofed this once on google docs and that's all I have in me today. Any gross errors that look like I didn't mean to do them, message me!

C/W ::: Human Kafka, F.reader, not a lot of swearing. I just don't get the sense that Kafka would swear unnecessarily. Maybe I'm wrong. My perception will probably change. Really, who cares. Um, P->V (unprotected), jumping the relationship gun (but, with him, I would, too.)

WC ::: 3,094 (about 7 3/4 pages on G-Docs).

MDNI UNDER THE CUT

Kafka Hibino was simple, through and through. But when he met you that day in the hospital, his whole life changed. He knew he'd never be the same man he was before he was admitted.

You're a nurse. You were great at your job, and you knew it. Though the first time you saw that big, dumb puppy-energy-giving man, you knew that you were a goner, as well.

He was admitted around 2 am. Settled in around 5 am. He was in a lot of pain from the fight he'd gotten into with the Kaiju around midnight. He had 2 broken arms, bruised ribs. A number of different things had happened to him.

Kafka would be in good hands, though. Really, really good hands.

Your hands.

**** 7:30 am ****

"Oh- oh my god. What was THAT!?" You pulled your hand from the large porcelain tub in his bathroom and squeezed the sponge out over his short dark hair.

Giggling, you blinked slowly because you couldn't deny the warmth that was spreading throughout your whole body. And not just between your thighs. No, this was something else entirely. His stupid haircut, his kind eyes and dumbass smile were hammering their way through your boundaries. The same boundaries you'd worked so hard over the years to build to not get emotionally attached to patients.

"You're an idiot, Mr. Hibino. A complete moron. Have you never been bathed before? That was just a little something extra to help loosen up your muscles, a quick massage. My goodness. It's as if you've never been pampered." You stood from where you were on your knees on the floor and shook your hands out, purposely getting water on his face - you hoped in his eyes - so you would have a reason to gingerly wipe it dry.

"Call me Kafka," he said, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grab the towel and stand over him.

"What?" You were confused. You didn't realize he'd been asking you something.

"Call me Kafka. It's my name, yeah?" He sounded so serious, so sincere. You nodded and wiped his face with the towel, noticing the small wrinkles as he smiled up at you.

Fuck. He's adorable and you're finding it harder and harder to stay professional.

"No. Your name is Mr. Hibino and that's what I'll be calling you. Ok? Mr. Hibino? Now, let's finish this bath and get you back in bed. The doctor will be coming by soon to check on you and he can give you another massage if you need it." You moved your hands to his shoulders, gently massaging them as you continued talking. "You've been through a lot, Mr. Hibino. Your body needs to heal."

He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back against the tub.

You kept massaging him, not stopping until he was almost asleep.

This sweet, gentle man, had a power over you that no one else did. And you weren't sure how to deal with it.

Quite a while later (sorry, storyline faux pas - I didn’t take into account healing time. But let’s just say that because he’s part Kaiju that he heals exceptionally fast. Ok? Ok!)*****

**** 1 month later, 10 pm ****

You hadn't seen Kafka since the morning bath you'd given him. He was discharged and sent home to continue his recovery. As a nurse, you knew he would be alright. But as a woman, you were left feeling empty and wanting more of him.

You were home that night, exhausted, but unable to sleep. You tried to keep your thoughts away from the big, gentle man who had stolen your heart with his kind words and warm smile, but it was impossible.

Your mind drifted to the way he looked at you as you bathed him.

How his body was perfectly balanced between the hard muscles he'd earned in his training and the slight squish around his mid-section that you wanted nothing more than to run your fingertips over.

His arms were thick and strong. Yet not battle-worn. He didn't have too many scars, though they'd have only added to his appeal.

His legs were muscular, too. Thick and strong, like his arms. His thighs were something else, something you found yourself daydreaming about wrapping your own legs around.

You wondered what his cock would feel like inside of you. You snuck a glance when he was in the tub. You knew his eyes were closed when you looked at it, bobbing away in the water. You're certain he was hard. Otherwise, you prayed he wasn't a grower because any more than that and you'd be the one being admitted to the hospital.

You thought about his hands on your body, squeezing your breasts and sliding between your thighs. You imagined what it would be like to feel his fingers inside of you, massaging you and bringing you to orgasm faster than you could imagine.

You rubbed your clit slowly, gently. You couldn't bring yourself to fuck yourself with a vibrator or even your own fingers. You didn't want to give yourself that much pleasure. 

You wanted it to be Kafka.

You wanted him to be the one to take you, to fuck you, to make love to you.

You rolled over onto your stomach, burying your face into your pillow as you yelled out in frustration.

"This is ridiculous. This is so stupid. I - I'm not some teenager who can't control herself." You stood and walked to your closet, grabbing some comfortable clothes and your purse and left for the mini mart down the street from your house. 

Chocolate was the next best thing you could think of. Other than, of course, Kafka running his hands all over your body. But what are the chances of that.

What are the chances of that?

The night air was cool against your skin. A nice contrast to the heat you'd built up while thinking about him.

You grabbed a pint of chocolate ice cream and began walking back home.

You felt better, slightly, but still very much wanting.

**** 10:30 pm ****

You were halfway through your pint and the movie when you heard a knock on your front door. "Coming, hold on, please." You walked to the door and looked through your peephole to see who it was. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me. What on earth are you doing here, Mr. Hibino?" The smile on your face was causing the back of your head to strain. You couldn't hide that you felt like your prayers had been answered all at once. But at the same time, you didn't want Kafka to see this look of bliss on your flushed face.

"Call me Kafka," he said softly, leaning against the doorway and smiling back at you. "And I wanted to see you again. May I? Come in, I mean. Please?"

You stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him.

You watched as he looked around your living room. You could tell he was a little nervous, but so were you.

You'd never felt this way about a patient before. Ex-patient, you had to remind yourself. He was no longer under your care. 

"Ok, Kafka." He smiled at the way you said his name. He'd never heard anything like it before. "Would you like some ice cream? I was just sitting here, eating some, watching a bad movie." You chuckled, showing him the container and spoon.

"Sure. I'd love some." He sat down right in the middle of your couch, and you sat next to him.

You handed him the ice cream and he dug in.

You both ate in silence for a few minutes until he said, "This is good."

You nodded and smiled. "It is. Sometimes chocolate, um, well, sometimes it's the only thing that helps. Y'know?" You looked at him, noticing the way his lips had turned up into a smirk. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, nothing. You're just ... you just ... h-here. Can I? There's a little bit of ... right ..." He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip so slowly and then sucked the ice cream off. "... there. You just had a little on your lip. 'S gone now."

You weren't sure what to do. Your body was telling you to jump on him and fuck him until neither of you could walk. Your brain was telling you to wait and see what other kind of sweet nothings he'd do for you. 

So, you waited. You had no idea your self-control was this well-honed. Again, you’d never been tested like this before.

But Kafka was different.

"You're beautiful, y'know." He whispered, looking at the floor like he was trying to burn holes in it with his eyes. He turned his head, leaning in a little bit closer than you were to him at the hospital. His hand moved to rest on your knee. And he said, "I've never met anyone like you before. I thought I was just going lay in the hospital bed until I was better. But you showed me kindness and care. I know you were just doing your job, but I'm grateful that you were there. That you were … you."

You didn't say anything. You were too busy trying to keep your heart from leaping out of your chest. You're sure if he'd looked, he'd see your tits jumping ever so slightly from the heaviness of the beating.

"Thank you for that. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Miss. I don’t know your first name. I’m embarrassed at how many ‘L/N’ households I went to looking for you.”

Your hand shot up to cover the smile that immediately bloomed across your lips. "That's not important. It's Y/N. And you're welcome. I'm happy I was able to help you. I didn't expect you to come here, though. I'm glad you did." You shifted, moving your knee so that your legs were touching. He didn't move his hand. He held it there, squeezing your knee gently.

"I didn't think I'd come here either. But I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know it's not appropriate for me to be here, but I had to see you again. I wanted to say thank you, in person." He turned his head and looked at you. You leaned in closer to him, your noses almost touching. "And maybe something else. Something that would make you feel as special as you made me feel when you took care of me."

You were so close to him you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. He smelled like the air before a storm, and whiskey. But a little liquid courage never killed anyone.

"Kafka," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face. You were fidgeting with a small piece of his hair as you rest your forehead against his. "Kafka. I ..."

He sat up abruptly, "Oh shit! You're not married, are you? I should have asked, I'm so sorry for showing up here so late. Without any warning." He bowed to you and started for the door.

"Kafka! I'm not married. I'm not even seeing anyone right now. Please, come back. Come sit." You stood and took his hand, leading him back to the couch. "I was going to say I've never felt this way about a patient before. You make me feel like there's something more to life than just my job."

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for any signs of dishonesty. He couldn't find any. "So, you don't mind me coming here?"

You shook your head. "I don't mind you coming here at all. I'm glad you did. I was just surprised, that's all. Please don't leave. Not yet." You held his hand tighter and urged him back down on the couch with you.

Pulling him back in, kissing him gently on the lips. "I've been wanting you to do that since the first time I saw you, too. But you in terrible pain when you came in. How did you have the presence of mind to want to kiss me when you were so badly beaten up?"

He laughed, "I wasn't beaten up, per se. I just didn't come out on top." He paused for a second, and then continued, "And the pain wasn't as bad as you think. I'm used to it. It's a part of my job. But being here with you, it's like I can forget all of that. And just be me. Kafka. Nothing else."

You leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency. His lips parted slightly, and you could taste the chocolate on his tongue. You moaned softly, shifting so that your legs were wrapped around him. He pulled you onto his lap, and you straddled him, grinding yourself against his crotch.

"Oh my god," he moaned, pulling back slightly and looking into your eyes. "Y/N. You're so beautiful." He reached up and touched your cheek with his thumb, rubbing it gently.

You pulled his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. His chest was chiseled and smooth, his abs flexing slightly under his cute belly as he breathed heavily.

You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, feeling every muscle and every scar. You kissed his neck, biting it gently and sucking on his skin. "Kafka, I want you. I want you so much."

He pulled your shirt off and threw it next to his. "I'm gonna make you feel so good that you'll forget all about chocolate."

You stopped, pulling back from his face, and you laughed so hard for the first time in ages. "Oh, that might be the most serious thing anyone has ever said to me. Challenge accepted!"

He pulled you back into him and kissed you, his hands reaching around to squeeze your ass as you ground yourself against him. He picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently laying you on the bed before climbing on top of you.

You unclasped your bra and tossed it to the floor, allowing him to see your breasts. He gasped as quietly as he could manage, running his hands over them and squeezing them gently. "You're so beautiful. You know that?"

He leaned down and took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it gently as his fingers worked at your pants. He slid them off, revealing your black lace panties. You'd never felt so exposed in your life. And you loved it.

"Kafka, please," you moaned as he sucked harder on your nipple, his hand moving down to rub your clit through your panties. "Please fuck me. I need you. I need you so bad."

He pulled back, looking at your face. "You want me to fuck you? You want me to make you cum? Oh-hoh baby, I will. I might even cum before you do! But don't lose faith. It's just, well, it's been a while? I guess? But that's not important right now." He leaned in and kissed you again, biting your bottom lip and sucking on it gently.

"It's ok, Kafka. I want you. I don't care if you cum before me. I just want you inside me. Please, please." You looked up at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't believe you were begging like this, but you didn't care. You wanted him so badly.

He nodded and pulled your panties off, throwing them to the floor. He pushed his own pants down and pulled his boxers off with them, his cock set free.

You gasped at the sight. It was so much more than what you saw when he was in the tub. "Jesus, I-"

He looked down, "Oh. That?" He turned his head away, "Yeah, sorry. I'm sure you've seen um, better? But I make up for it in other ways! I promise, y/n. Just give me a chance."

You shook your head and smiled, "That's not at all what I'm trying to say here. There's not a doubt in my mind you won't fuck me stupid, Kafka." You giggled and reached your arms out to pull him down against you.

He positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit as he kissed your neck.

You moaned, "Ohhh, fuck. Yes. Do that." Your hand moved to his ass, squeezing it as he rocked against you.

He pushed himself inside of you slowly, stretching you out as he went. The slight sting you noticed dissipated as quickly as the onset. You moaned, your nails digging into his back as he started to thrust faster. "Kafka, oh my god. That feels so fucking good. More. I want more,  please."

He grunted, his cock sliding in and out of you as you arched your back, grinding yourself against him. He sucked on your nipple again, his tongue flicking over it as he fucked you harder and faster.

You couldn't believe how much he was making you feel. You hadn't had sex in so long, but this was different. This was something else entirely. He was with you. He wasn't just there to get himself off. You'd been with guys like that before and they, more often than not, left you with a (literal) bad taste in your mouth.

Your breathing quickened, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. And the closer you got, the harder your nails dug into his muscular back. "Kaf-hoh shit. Y-that ... pl- fuck. 'M gonna cum ... very … very soon."

He pulled back slightly, looking at your face as you bit your lip, your eyes rolling back. "Me too, baby. Me too. You're so tight, and you feel so good. I can't believe I'm inside of you. Fuck. I'm gonna cum, Y/N. Oh shit, I'm gonna cum." He grunted again, his cock twitching inside of you as he came hard, filling you up.

You came with him, your pussy squeezing around his cock as he kept fucking you, slowing his thrusts until he stopped completely.

"Fuck," you whispered, reaching up and touching his face gently. "Kafka."

He smiled and kissed you softly. "RIGHT!?" 

You laughed through a yawn at the high energy he had when you first met, despite his injuries, and how he seems now. “Stay? Stay with me. I don’t want you to go. Tonight. Ever.” 

He held you close to him, kissing the top of your head and brushing your hair down as you drifted off to sleep against his warm chest.

"Just try’n get rid of me, y/n." 

@darkstarlight82 @katkusuo @kazutora-kurokawa

@arlerts-angel @southside-otaku @trevengersprincess

@bakubunny @reiners-milkbiddies

***If you guys absolutely hate this anime or don't give a shit, please please let me know so I don't keep writing and tagging you in stuff you don't care about! Thanks, mooties! <3***

[enbysiriusblack]

rereading snape's worst memory:

severus is writing A LOT more than the other students around him, so like. he probably does try super hard in all his exams, but defence is clearly one of his favourites i think from this. like he's writing super small and still filling out a lot of the parchment, so he's got a lot to say about the subject, plus he's writing like really fast without stopping

if james is only a short distance away from severus and sirius is in the same row as james, does this mean exam tables aren't set up in alphabetical order? people just sit where they want or something? weird

james' hair is described as messy like 5 times by harry. i don't think we focus on that enough.

girl, pay attention to your exam. we get he's hot, but damn

remus, you're good at dada, stop worrying sm about it. u got this mate

peter having exam anxiety is soooo canon i swear. also i'm giggling at him trying to cheat

doodler!james >>>> also harry not clocking his own mum's initals is kinda sad

ooh guys, should i make stebbins (he's a guy who doesn't put down his quill and continues writing after the exam finishes so flitwick calls him out) florence's boyfriend?? should i actually give 'boyfriend' a name???

honestly, other than the weird seating plan, this is so accurate to gsce exams. like turning around just to do a face or hand gesture to your friend a few seats away when the teacher's not looking? someone always writing after they tell you to stop? laughing at the teacher? waiting for your friends to discuss the paper straight away? its so real

these guys are incapable of being serious. they are all so fucking sarcastic. i love it.

why's severus still enthralled in his exam for???? it's over mate, go fucking relax

unrequited prongstail is real (also james' nicking a snitch?? he's such a weirdo)

severus!! harry literally was describing you as super pale and like you never go in the sunlight.. and then you go and sit in the shade?? it's early summer in scotland, it's not gonna be that fucking hot.

poly marauders are canon? (they were just described as being a foursome)

handsome just keeps getting added to any description of sirius. might start doing this in my fics /j

this is making me realise how canonly accurate the personalities of the marauders are in my fic (i'm only cryptic and machiavellian), and i love that for me

yeah unrequited prongstail is def canon omfg.

"sirius was the only person for whom james would stop showing off". james doesn't need to show off for sirius, because he knows sirius will always be there for him and give him attention anyway aww

remus and james both trying to think up solutions as soon as sirius says he's bored?? i'm giggling.

peter must have been sooo dissapointed that sirius and james stopped hexing people as often... his fav entertainment. gone.

okay i swear i've read this like loads of times before but i never actually realised sirius 'barking with laughter' was how he canonly laughs, i always just write that to be funny, i didn't know it was canon

james constantly looking over at the girls by the lake. like mate, she didn't notice or care about you throwing a snitch in the air but i don't think bullying her friend is any better. like yeah it gets her attention but is that really the kind of attention you want?? oh, you'll take any attention you can get from her? okay, right, fine

peter edging... IM SORRY

"i was watching him" OKAY,, snirius enjoyers are eating today

*smugly grinning* i KNEW james' hair fidgeting thing was an anxious/nervous habit I TOLD YOU ALL

lily's hair is dark red!!! just in case anyone forgot!!

i love remus. disagree with your friend's actions? don't worry! u can always just pretend you're so enthralled in your book you don't even notice what they're doing! just look the other way and you're totally absolving yourself and your friends from any guilt!

i feel like james asked lily out only once before this. like in fourth year of maybe just a couple months before this, and like in a proper fairly private, giving her flowers, asking timidly (well as timid as he can be), and she responded in a fairly similar way to here. so james asking here, is like trying to resolve his own feelings of embarassment about the rejection ig?

lily smiling!!!! oh she's such a cunt i love her (ofc james and sirius are bigger cunts ofc!!!) like girl that's your damn friend getting 'pantsed'. although ig like. it was kinda a norm thing to like do it TO your own friends soo hmm. (btw i put 'pantsed' in brackets since it's not pantsing, like. the point is that severus isn't wearing pants, he's wearing robes. it's robesing...)

sirius and james are too wuss to duel lily <333 cause she'd thrash them <333 (they totally duelled her before and got their arses kicked)

oh severus... u suck so bad... just cause she found you getting robesed funny doesn't mean u should go call her slurs wtf man

go off lily okayyy. her insults/jokes hit harder than all of sirius' ngl (ily sirius you're still funny and got good insults i swear!!)

okay personally lily, i don't think someone who shows off and hexes people who annoy him (which is. maybe just in my opinion) majoritively people who are bigoted/do dark magic, and then someone who calls their supposed best friend a slur in front of like half their peers are as bad as each other...

^also james!! omg mate she noticed you showing off with your snitch and messing your hair up!!! (also furthering my proof that he does it as a nervous act cause he's all nervous around her so does it more often and she just thinks he's showing off)

sirius, now is not the time for your brutal honestly. like that's so real of you and i suffer from the same infliction but still..

[steddieas-shegoes]

tangled with what i never said

rated e | 3515 words | also on ao3

Okay so. I listened to Blood Sport by Sleep Token earlier, and then I had angst thoughts for six hours (continuously fueled by @wormdebut and her antics damn her), and then I wrote this. I originally was gonna just leave it unresolved because I didn't wanna commit to a resolution, but I'm incapable of that. It's short and was just enough to kick start me into writing most of what I still needed to for my next chapter of mechanic Eddie, so I'd say it accomplished a lot. So sorry. - Mickala 💖

If Eddie had done just one thing differently, his life wouldn’t have ended up like this.

If he’d stopped fucking with Steve’s head, if he’d just let himself have something nice, if he’d admitted to himself sooner, if, if, if.

If he’d let himself love Steve the way Steve deserved, he wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a cop car in Chicago with no one to call.

—----------

It was easy, being with Steve, letting him in the way he never expected to let anyone in.

It was easy until it wasn’t.

They weren’t officially anything, and he planned to keep it that way, not wanting to get tied down to someone who had no intention of leaving this shithole town anytime soon.

But they fucked.

A lot.

Probably more than what could be reasonably considered a friends helping friends situation. Maybe more than an actual relationship, even.

They fucked everywhere they could get away with, as often as they could get away with, in just about any position they could get away with.

Steve pushed Eddie in ways he didn’t think he’d ever like, and Eddie pushed right back, harder, faster, more.

It was fun.

Eddie couldn’t even remember the last time he had so much fun.

He laughed while he was fucking into Steve, fingers digging into Steve’s hips as he rode him into the floor.

They hadn’t even made it to the bed this time, too overwhelmed with the need to taste each other after hours of subtle teasing by the pool, half naked and half hard for most of the afternoon.

Despite the need to taste, they had yet to kiss, yet to put tongues on any part of each other, no bite marks on skin. Yet.

It would happen soon, Eddie knew, always knew what to expect when Steve started making those whining gasps and his thighs started to shake.

No matter what position they were in, Steve’s thighs were the dead giveaway for how close he was, trembling in his hands, against his mouth, around his waist.

Eddie loved that.

He loved a lot of things about this, about Steve.

He chased that thought away as Steve let out a whimper, his hips shifting forward as he fell on Eddie’s cock.

“Yes, there, fuck,” Steve whined, lifting himself faster, higher, until Eddie was almost certain he’d go too far, and then fall back down.

Eddie gripped him impossibly tighter, bending his knees and planting his feet so he could drill into Steve’s hole harder, groaning as Steve clenched around him.

“Wanna see you come, Stevie,” Eddie gasped out.

He was standing on the edge, too, maybe even closer than Steve, the ache in his side barely noticeable past the tightening coil in his stomach.

Steve was sensitive, reactive to every change in pace or angle. Eddie used that to his advantage here, sitting up and pulling Steve’s legs around his waist.

Steve came after two more thrusts in this position, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream.

Eddie was only human; The moment Steve tightened around him, he was a goner.

He bit Steve’s collarbone, not caring about the bruises he’d leave behind, silently proud he was making a claim, even if he didn’t deserve it.

Steve was shaking, shivers wracking his body as the slow thrusting sent him into overstimulation.

He rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, his breath hot against Eddie’s skin, right where his newest tattoo was healing.

“Lo…ooo..” Steve mumbled against his shoulder.

“Hm?” Eddie asked, nearly as overstimulated as Steve was.

“Luff you.”

It was still muffled by Eddie’s shoulder, but it was loud and clear enough what he was saying.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat.

No.

“No.”

Eddie’s hands fell from Steve’s hips as he spoke, his body going numb.

“What?” Steve asked, eyes cloudy, confused about the sudden shock of Eddie being so distant while still being inside him.

“No. You.” Eddie shook his head. “You don’t. You’re just tired.”

And then Steve realized what he’d said, what was happening, why Eddie was looking at him like he’d grown a second head.

“I-” Steve sighed. “Eds, I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

“Right, yeah. Because you don’t love me. That isn’t. That’s not what’s going on. We’re just having fun until I get out of here, right?” Eddie needed that to be right, needed Steve to agree with him before the panic actually set in.

“That’s how it started, yeah, it’s just…is that really what we’re doing? Still? Is this really what just having fun is? We spend every night together, we hang out all the time, we’re just…I mean we’re basically boyfriends.” Steve watched as Eddie’s face didn't change. “Aren’t we?”

“No. No, that’s not what we are, Steve.”

He hadn’t called Steve by his actual name in months, maybe a year. It felt wrong on his lips, like venom soaking in instead of endearment coming out.

Steve pulled away, got off of Eddie’s mostly softened cock, sat down on the floor.

His legs were still shaking, Eddie could see them.

How was this happening?

How had something turned so violently towards destruction so quickly?

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t love me, Eddie. I know I’m kinda…intense with my feelings. But, like, you can’t really think we were just friends with all this?”

And, yeah, maybe a part of Eddie’s brain had come to the same conclusion as Steve, maybe even long before Steve.

But a much larger part of his brain, the part that screamed at him anytime he let himself get close to someone, concluded that there was nothing there for either of them beyond what it was on the surface.

He couldn’t love Steve because Steve couldn’t love Eddie, not the way either of them needed.

Eddie stood up, his own legs shaking with the effort, and grabbed his bathing suit shorts that were still damp.

“Eddie, c’mon. I shouldn’t have said it, but like, it’s not that I don’t mean it. And I know you don’t love me-”

“Steve. Stop.”

Steve stopped.

Eddie threw his t-shirt on, amazed that it was even in the room at all.

“I can’t do this right now.”

That seemed to set Steve off, his attitude going from concerned to angry in half a second flat.

“Can’t do what? Can’t love me? I said it’s fine if you can’t. I don’t expect you to. But it doesn’t stop me from loving you. We can do what we’ve been doing! We don’t have to change anything if you don’t want,” Steve begged.

He was begging, practically on his knees asking for Eddie to just try to be who he wanted him to be.

But he couldn’t give that to him, even when he so desperately wanted to.

“I can’t.”

When Eddie left, he left with the thoughts of I love you, I love you, I love you racing through his mind, but never leaving his mouth.

—---------------

The phone at the jail was being used by some woman who looked like she’d seen better days.

Then again, Eddie probably looked about the same.

Actually, he knew he did.

He hadn’t washed his hair in a week, not since the water heater went out. He figured quick showers to wash his body were enough, his hair would survive until they could all pitch in to afford a new water heater.

He was wearing a torn and bloody shirt from the fight at the bar, most of the blood wasn’t his, and his freshly painted nails were chipped to hell.

One of his boots had a damaged sole before he even went to the bar, and now the sole was missing.

If he let himself think it, that could be a funny metaphor. Maybe a song lyric, even.

But he wouldn’t let himself think it, not with how the cop standing next to him was shuffling his feet impatiently, like he would rather be anywhere but next to Eddie.

“I’m in cuffs, not sure why you need to be so close to me,” Eddie would never learn to shut up.

“Seen plenty of guys in cuffs decide not to be.”

Good enough reason.

He used up the few minutes standing there thinking about who to call.

He hadn’t talked to Wayne in almost a month now, and he’d be damned if his first call home since their last argument was to tell him he’d been arrested for fighting in a bar.

He definitely couldn’t call Dustin; it would wake Claudia up and he couldn’t drive here anyway.

The guys would be livid that he got arrested, had already warned him not to go out at all because it would just end in trouble.

He had no one.

“Hey, I don’t really need the phone,” Eddie sighed out.

“You get a call,” the cop sounded confused, like he’d never heard someone refuse the call before.

“I don’t have anyone to call.”

He could feel the way the cop was staring at him, could feel the sudden pity coming from him. Maybe he was a nice guy, maybe he felt sympathy for younger people who made stupid mistakes.

“Not even a friend?”

“All of my friends would hang up on me.”

“Don’t really sound like friends, then. You got a lawyer?”

Eddie shook his head, tried not to think about how much debt he’d be in if he had to pay for one.

“Court will give you one if needed. Doubt the guy will actually press charges, though. Bartender said he started it and lots of witnesses backed him up.”

“So why am I fucking here?” Eddie let some of his frustration out, not just with this, but with everything.

Being in a city he always loved, alone, hating himself more than ever.

“Gotta book ya for the night, just in case,” the cop shrugged as he gestured to the phone. “Call someone, kid.”

He reminded him of Hopper.

Maybe he could call him.

He dialed a phone number he didn’t even realize he remembered, didn’t think he’d ever use again.

He looked at the clock on the wall as it started to ring.

1:08 in the morning.

“‘Lo?”

Fuck, his sleep voice was always Eddie’s kryptonite.

“Steve.”

The other end of the line was silent, as Eddie expected. But he didn’t hang up. He had every right to, he should, but he was still there.

“I’m, uh, not sure how long they give me to talk, but-”

“Are you okay?”

Eddie could cry. He probably would if the cop behind him wasn’t very obviously listening in, if the next person getting booked wasn’t standing a few feet away waiting for the phone.

“I don’t know how to answer that question,” he admitted.

“Are you in the hospital?” Steve clarified.

“What? No. I got arrested. I just.” He let out a shaky breath before whispering, “I didn’t have anyone else to call.”

“So…you called me? Where’s Wayne? Your friends?”

It hurt to hear how removed from Eddie’s life Steve was. Six months is a long time, but having the reality of his choices hit him in the face now, at rock bottom, felt like too much.

“I don’t think they would wanna hear from me right now.”

“And I do?”

The knife twisted in his chest.

It was deserved, he deserved this, but it didn’t make the pain easier to bear.

“No. You’re right. Um, I guess I just needed someone to know. So. I should be released tomorrow sometime, but um, I guess I’ll try to call Wayne when I’m out. Sorry.”

Eddie had never sounded so hesitant, his words clumsy on his tongue, practically jumping out of his mouth before he could properly think about them.

“Wait.” Eddie glanced over at the cop, who was doing his best not to look. “Do you need money? A ride?”

He actually…didn’t know. As far as he knew, he wouldn’t need any bail money, but what would happen tomorrow? Who would show up for him?

Why would anyone show up for him when he’d been the person running from everyone for so long?

“I’ll-”

“I can be there. What time?” Steve interrupted.

Eddie turned to the cop next to him. He mouthed ‘time?’ and the cop held up two fingers.

“Two. Um, but I can get a cab. I have enough cash. I don’t live far from here,” he said, regretting making this call, even if hearing Steve’s voice felt like it was healing a wound in his chest.

“Don’t be stupid. You called, I’ll come.”

And it sounded like love, it sounded like he was giving a hint of the forgiveness Eddie didn’t deserve.

But before he could say as much, the phone line dropped off into a dial tone.

He hung up.

“Seems like you got one friend,” the cop said.

“Seems like.”

—----------------

The rest of the night dragged.

Eddie wasn’t drunk. He had one beer. He had one beer and a fight.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything but pace the cell he was sharing with three other guys who definitely had more than one beer, and possibly more than a fight, too.

Shift change brought new faces, a woman walking by in uniform and giving a wave to everyone in the cell, an old man who looked like he should have retired before Eddie was born walking through with a coffee in his hand.

It was just another day for everyone else, but for him, it was the day he’d see Steve.

Or maybe, just maybe, Steve wouldn’t show.

He was almost hoping he wouldn’t.

But when the guard at the end of the hall brought a bag of sandwiches for everyone in the cell for lunch, he winked at Eddie.

“Your friend is tryin’ to get you out of here early. Might work, too. Jenny at the front desk loves guys with long hair.

Long…hair? That couldn’t be Steve.

He couldn’t eat, gave his sandwich to a guy who didn’t get brought in until three hours before.

He paced more.

Nothing else to do other than think about Steve standing just on the other side of the door at the end of the hall.

Until the door opened.

Then he was on this side of the door.

Steve was here.

Here for Eddie.

He stood outside the cell while the officer who walked with him unlocked the door of the cell.

And then Eddie was out.

Steve was here.

Eddie was looking at Steve.

He looked thinner, hair longer, and he was dressed in almost the same outfit he was in the last time things were normal.

Before the pool, before the ‘I love you,’ before Eddie threw everything away to be in a jail cell in Chicago.

“Stevie.”

It was broken. He could barely see through the tears in his eyes, could feel the burn in his chest that meant he was actually feeling something.

“C’mon, Eds. Let’s go home,” Steve said.

And Eddie couldn’t do anything but follow him.

—-----------------------------

The ride was quiet, especially when Steve took a left turn where he should have taken a right at Eddie’s direction, the car turning towards the highway.

“Um. Where are we going?” Eddie finally asked after a few miles.

“Home.”

O…kay. Well, Eddie’s home was definitely not in this direction, but if Steve wanted to take him somewhere else, that was fine.

He didn’t have anything to do for the next two days.

One hour later, Eddie realized that home meant Hawkins, meant Steve’s home, maybe even Wayne’s.

“You’re taking me to Hawkins?”

“I said I’m taking you home. Hawkins is home.”

“It’s-”

“It’s home. You left home and you need the people there right now more than you need to be in Chicago. We’re going home,” Steve said, leaving no room for argument.

Steve’s home hadn’t changed.

The outside was still maintained professionally, the inside was still a mix of perfect order and absolute chaos, like Steve had tried his best to keep it clean, but the kids had come behind him and fucked it all up.

It was beautiful.

Eddie missed everything about it.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw the living room.

The last place he’d left Steve, his heart, everything.

“You sleep last night?” Steve asked from behind him.

“Not really.”

“You can take my bed. Guest room is a mess right now. I’ll have dinner ready when you’re up,” Steve said as he walked to the kitchen.

He acted as if this was totally normal, like this was exactly how he planned on bringing Eddie back into his life.

Eddie wouldn’t sleep, he already knew there was no way he could be in Steve’s bed, smelling Steve’s shampoo on his pillow, remembering everything they’d done in it.

He followed Steve to the kitchen, his better judgment completely left behind in a jail cell.

“You don’t have to do all this for me,” Eddie started, watching Steve’s back tense from across the room. “I can just grab a bus back to Chicago and pretend this never happened.”

“Is that what you want?”

Steve wouldn’t look at him, but his voice was wobbling, and Eddie knew what that meant.

“No, it’s not.”

If Steve could be brave enough to drive to Chicago to pick him up, bring him home, even when he didn’t deserve the kindness, then Eddie could be brave enough to tell him what he should have six months ago.

“Then why do you expect me to want that?” Steve turned to him, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Because I hurt you.”

“Hurting me doesn’t make me want you less, it just means I’m hurting while I love you,” Steve sobbed.

Eddie took the few steps to get to Steve by the fridge, stopping right in front of him.

“Do you?” Eddie whispered, letting the tears fall from his own eyes.

“Do I what?”

“Do you love me?”

Steve sniffled, letting out a disbelieving laugh.

“I don’t know why you think I drove to Chicago to pick you up from fucking jail, but it isn’t because I hate you.”

There he was.

That was Eddie’s feisty Steve.

The one he loved.

“I love you,” Eddie said simply.

There was plenty more to say, plenty more he would say, but nothing would be able to happen until he said the words Steve should have heard already.

“Because I picked you up?” Steve asked, head hanging, eyes on the floor.

“No.” Eddie cupped his chin, tilting his face up so he could see him. “Because you’ve always picked me up. Because I’ve picked you up. Because I’m an idiot, but you love me, anyway.”

Steve’s kiss was wet, but Eddie didn’t care.

Any kiss from Steve was worth having, was a gift.

It was slow, but over quickly, and Eddie held back the whine he felt building in his throat when Steve pulled away.

“You loved me then? It wasn’t in my head?” he asked quietly, unsure.

“I loved you then. I love you now. Ask me again in ten years. Maybe 25. My answer won’t change,” Eddie smiled as he leaned in for another quick kiss.

“You’re awful sure about that for someone who ran from me before.”

“Nothing makes you more sure of your feelings than being alone with them for a long time. The guys aren’t really ‘talk about it’ people. I just had myself. Sometimes the bartender.”

The bartender who was probably gonna be looking for him within the next couple of days when he didn’t show up again.

Oh well.

He was home.

“You gonna stay? Let us really try? Be more than the guys who fuck every night?” Steve asked, arms crossing over his chest to protect himself.

He didn’t need to do that anymore.

Eddie wasn’t someone he needed protection from.

“I’m gonna stay and be the guy who takes you out, and who writes you songs, and who draws you stupid pictures, and who fucks you every night, and loves you. That’s who I’m gonna be.”

Steve smirked.

“Every night?”

“Every night.”

“Including this one?”

“Well…your bed is pretty comfy from what I remember. I could sleep after…”

Steve grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the stairs.

He stopped on the first step, turning to look Eddie in the eyes.

“You’re not gonna say sorry to me. You wanna know why?”

“Why’s that?”

“Because sorry is for people correcting mistakes. We’re starting fresh. No mistakes yet. You’re Eddie, I’m Steve, we love each other. That can be enough for us, I think.”

Eddie would apologize.

Steve would forgive him.

But for now, Eddie could do what Steve asked.

“We can just love each other.”

Steve nodded once, turned again, and continued up the stairs with Eddie in tow.

Forgiveness started in Steve’s bed that night, Steve sitting on Eddie’s lap like he had all those months ago, Eddie’s hands leaving fingerprint bruises on his hips, his teeth making their claim on his collarbone.

[maryangelex]

Dark But Sweet (Pt.2)

Maintenance Guy! Simon "Ghost" Riley x f! Reader

Part 1 here

Summary: Meeting Simon has left you wanting more, making any and every excuse to have his company once again. Until all your efforts finally prove effective.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, descriptive language, fluff at the beginning, smut, p in v sex, cowgirl, oral sex (male receiving), simon is shy but cheeky, dirty talking, pulling out, cumshots/cumming on belly.

A/N: this was so fun to write!! heavy on the smut so be warned!! once again let me extend a formal apology to the Brits reading this.

I know it's long, but let me know how you liked it!!!

Ever since Simon had visited your flat to make the repair, you had been finding every which way to see him again. You made it your mission almost every day to find an excuse to talk to him.

Thankfully, your flat was still in disarray; pieces of pesky IKEA furniture needed to be put together, shelves needed to be installed on your wall, and lightbulbs needed to be switched. The truth was that you could do most of these things, you weren't an idiot. But Simon didn't know that, as far as he was concerned you were just a girl incapable of repairing her own place.

So, you used your feigned incompetence to your advantage.

A few days after he fixed the plumbing, you woke up extra early that morning to bake a whole tray of biscuits and packed them neatly in your freshest Tupperware.

I'm in 1B if you need anythin' else.

And there you were, facing the bold metal digits on the worn wooden door of Simon's flat. You took a deep breath, biscuits in tow. You hesitantly raised your hand to the door, taking a second before you lightly tapped your knuckles to the wood.

Your face heated in anticipation, your heart solidifying into stone, and your throat went dry as if you had just done something malicious.

A few seconds passed and there was no movement, no sounds heard from inside. Maybe he didn't hear you, your knuckles had been light on the door. So you went for a second attempt, this time more confident and audible.

You shifted, clearing your throat and straightening your posture, readying yourself to face the man.

But once again, nothing.

You knitted your brows together, confusion and fear rising in you. Were you in the wrong flat? 1B, you remembered. What if he was busy with something? With someone? Your mind started racing as embarrassment crept on you.

"Need somethin', love?"

You jumped, your body jolting at the sudden sound of a deep voice breaking the deafening silence. A small gasp came from you as you turned around to see Simon standing behind you.

"Jesus!" you breathed, clutching at your chest. Your heart had skipped a beat when Simon spoke behind you.

You craned your head to look at the tall man. When your eyes caught up to his face, you saw the small smirk across his lips, and the look in his eyes was almost amused as he gazed down at you.

"Didn't mean to scare you, love." he said apologetically

Love, you were sure the man didn't even know your name, but you couldn't complain about having Simon calling you that.

"No worries! Sorry I, erm, I was just lookin' for you!" you stumbled over your words, a nervous chuckle exiting you.

You watched the man in front of you, your face and chest heating the more details you noticed. Evidently, he had just gone on a run. He was wearing short shorts, hugging his strong quads tightly. His shirt was tucked into the waistband of his shorts, draping like a towel. Making the upper half of his body completely exposed.

You gulped at the sight and realization that Simon, the man you were swooning over, was standing in front of you shirtless, with only a glossy layer of sweat dressing his upper body. His skin was bronzed from being exposed to the sun, and his tattoo sleeve was radiant from the sweat coating his toned arms. The muscles in his torso were tight and--

Shit, you were gawking at him again. Your eyes were devouring him and it couldn't be more obvious.

"Do you need help with somethin' else, love?" He quirked a sweaty brow at you.

"Y-Yes, actually! I just... I have a load of furniture that I, erm, I need to put it together and--"

"Not a problem, love" he interrupted your rambling, his voice soft, "I'll be up to put 'em together for you."

Your beaming eyes met his, a smile spreading wide across your red hot cheeks. You let out a small nervous giggle. Suddenly, you felt the weight and shape of the container nestled under your arm.

"Oh! These are for you," you extended your arms toward him, exhibiting the container full of enough biscuits to last him the whole year. Simon's eyes grew wide as he looked at it, his expression becoming flustered.

"I...can't accept that, really," he cleared his throat.

"Please, I made too many and can't eat them all by myself." you insisted, arms not faltering.

Simon made a noise that sounded like a grunt of appreciation as he took the container. He mumbled his gratitude. As much as he protested whenever you offered him or gifted him food, you loved seeing how flustered he got. It was no secret that the man had an appetite and that he genuinely liked and appreciated the meals.

You had decided that food would be your way into this man's heart.

That day Simon went up to your apartment after showering and changing into fresh clothes. You spent the afternoon on the floor of your apartment with him, putting together your furniture as if you were a newly moved-in couple. The whole time you were near him, you took in his scent and his appearance, as if he was a bouquet of flowers with an aroma that drew you in as much as its flowers' beauty did.

He smelled like a deep, manly cologne with a hint of vanilla; dark but sweet. Everything about him was like that. His voice, his scent, his demeanor. And you were enthralled, completely absorbed in his presence. When he finished and left, you felt a coldness in your flat once again. His company was warm, and every time he left you were left wanting more of him.

So for the next two weeks, you showed up at his door with a new recipe packed in a container and a new thing for him to help you fix. Each time he greeted you with a growing smile, getting less flustered with every meal you packed him, taking it more confidently and outwardly grateful; no more protesting from him.

One day you genuinely needed him, the damn shower wouldn't turn any other temperature besides freezing cold. So you showed up at his door with a meal, this time it was a salmon recipe you had found online, and were greeted by him like usual.

"Hey, Simon," you started, although he knew where you were going at this point. "The shower, it just won't get hot" You laughed lightly and he gave you a knowing smirk. He took the container as you extended it to him.

"I'll head upstairs, love," he said, his voice sultry and a deeper rumble than usual. "I had somethin' to ask you, actually."

You froze, your stomach doing a flip. Fuck, you thought, he's finally caught on and gotten tired of these little transactions.

"You're always bringin' me food," he began, "and I've been thinkin'..."

Your face bloomed beet red, a knot tying in your throat.

Shit, he's putting an end to it, the time finally fucking came!

"If it'd be alright if I could return the favor for you?"

You felt your heart clench like it had stopped beating. And you hadn't noticed, but your hands were clenched into tight fists, bracing yourself in anticipation. But his words made your tense body relax.

"Wha--How do you mean?" you babbled, puzzled by his question.

"I'm askin' you on a date, sweetheart" he clarified, a cocky grin curling his lips. "I'll cook for you if you let me."

You blinked, paralyzed by his invitation. You took a moment to breathe, not realizing you had been holding your breath all along.

“Well, I— Sure!” You finally said. Simon huffed, a mix of relief and amusement at your answer, your flustered and stuttered response.

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” His words were like a command.

“What will you cook for me?” You asked with a smirk of your own.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” he said as he stepped out of his flat, “dress nice for me.” He gave you a cheeky smile before closing the door behind him, tools in hand to head over to your flat.

For him, you repeated in your mind. On the way back to your flat with him you couldn’t help but ruminate over the fact that he asked you out. You were elated, the whole rest of the day and morning after all you did was anticipate your date with Simon.

When the moment finally came, you were at Simon’s door once again, wearing a brand new dress that you got just for him. Nothing too fancy but not casual either. You made the effort of putting on some makeup, even. The blush you had applied was amplified by the natural one that lightly heated your cheeks as you nervously waited for him to open the door. You fidgeted with the light fabric of your dress anxiously.

The sound of the door creaking open snapped you out of your nervous thoughts. You flashed Simon a bright smile, your lipstick accentuating it. He was standing beside the open door, his eyes trailing down your body, scanning you and making you feel exposed.

“Y’look pretty, love,” he said with a smirk. It made a fire light in you. You thanked him and you stepped inside with his hand signaling you to come in.

In all this time you had never been inside Simon’s flat until now. It was neat and clean, a fresh candle smell wafting in the air. Your eyes scanned it curiously.

His decor was modest and reserved, just like him. His furniture was simple yet cozy, and the color palette was muted; dark neutrals like grays and browns, some pops of navy. The lighting was moody and dimmed.

There were little personal details like a picture of him huddled with three other men. You took a few seconds longer to admire it, relishing the way he looked surrounded with what you deemed yo be his closest friends.

You suddenly felt Simon’s presence behind you, his body radiating a comforting warmth.

“May I?” His voice was soft, hands raised over your shoulders asking to help you remove your coat.

You nodded and gave him your approval with a polite smile as you shimmied the coat off your shoulders, letting him slide it off. His knuckles brushed against your skin and left goosebumps. You felt his gaze momentarily gracing the skin exposed by the straps of your dress.

He hung up your coat by the hooks near his entrance. You watched him head to the dining area to pull the chair out for you which you happily sat at.

“You’re quite the gentleman, Simon,” you said.

“Is it surprising?”

“Not at all,” you looked at him behind you, your eyes adoring.

You watched him as he shifted around his kitchen, preparing dishes and plating them expertly and delicately. As if he was preparing a masterpiece for you with the utmost effort. He was deeply concentrated in his cooking, and you were deeply concentrated in the ways he moved as you watched him from your seat. The way the muscles on his back shifted and bulged under his shirt, how his profile was chiseled and pointed.

He made his way back to you moments later with two plates that he placed on the table respectively. Then he poured a freshly opened bottle of wine into your cup followed by his. You took a sip as he watched you expectantly. You hummed at the taste approvingly and licked your lips, a movement that he watched closely. And with that he sat across from you, eyeing you as you tasted the food.

It melted in your tongue, eliciting a delighted moan from you. You caught him smirking as he asked if it was good. Good was not enough to describe it. All this time you had been cooking for him while his abilities were even beyond yours. He watched you eat, pleased with how much you were enjoying it, before he finished his own meal and wine.

The two of you chatted over your meal. You were a tipsy mess laughing at his dry humor. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was just your massive crush that made him funny because the man said the strangest things. And you got a few laughs out of him, at least that’s what you thought the deep rumbling and huffing that came out of him was.

“Thank you, Simon,” you said, batting your lashes at him across the table. He was reclined in his chair, his blonde lashes fanning over his hooded eyes as he gave you a sultry look. You felt exposed under his gaze, your face flushed by a mix of the wine and his overwhelming gaze.

“No, thank you for the company, love,” he said in that pleasant, rough voice of his. It made your heart skip a beat.

You stood up from your chair and picked up the dishes to take to the sink. He moved a hand to stop you, but you insisted, “Let me thank you properly, Simon!”

It made him grunt in displeasure, but he let you.

As you stood over the sink, letting the water rinse the dishes, you felt his presence behind you again.

“There’s another way for you to thank me, if you’re interested,” his voice was low and you felt his hot breath near your ear, making you shiver and your movements freeze. The heat of his body was radiating towards you, he was centimeters away from you, you could almost feel the solid mass of him.

Your head turned over your shoulder as you watched his hands come up to your sides.

“I’m interested,” you said, biting your lip. The feeling of his hands was burning you as they rested on your waist, the front of his body now pressing against your back.

You pressed back towards him, feeling a stiffness against your rear. It made a small whine grow in your throat, and you heard Simon’s breath hitch at the motion; his hands gripped the flesh of your flanks tighter.

You felt the tip of his nose against your ear, then his lips gracing the shell.

“Come with me, then, love,” he said almost a whisper, “show me your gratitude.”

You turned around to face him, his body still close to you as his hands remained on your waist. He gently guided you to his living room, not leaving your proximity.

There, you gently placed a hand to his abdomen, lightly pushing him to direct him to sit down at the armchair behind him. He complied, reclining back on it with his broad thighs spread wide to make room for you, invitingly. You could see the outline of his member through the fabric of his pants, making your mouth water and the heat in your core flare up.

You sank down to kneel in front of him, nestled between his strong legs, and your hands lay flat on his thighs. You gave them a squeeze, more to ground yourself than to tease him, and you felt the bulks of solid muscle hidden under the fabric. His hands rested relaxed on the arms of the chair, letting you take your time.

Your hands slid up his thigh at a snail’s pace until you reached the waist of his pants. You trailed around the crotch of his pants, avoiding his stiffened member and watched as your teasing made his breath falter, his stomach sinking.

You watched his face as your hands caressed him. His lips were slightly parted, glossy with his spit, and his already dark eyes were black voids, glimmering as he watched you between his legs. His hands now tightened into anticipating fists.

Finally, your fingers made it to the button of his pants, undoing it; followed by his zipper, which you slowly dragged down. It made Simon lightly shift in his seat, giving you a chance to gently tug down his pants along with his boxers.

His cock sprang free and your eyes widened at the size of it. Simon gripped the base of it, giving it a few slow pumps in front of your face.

“Too much for you, love?” He said with a cocky smile, enjoying the look on your face. You shook your head and gulped the saliva flooding your mouth before you replaced his hand with yours. He removed his own, letting you take hold of it entirely. The feeling of your silky hands on his cock made him groan quietly.

You gave it a few painfully slow pumps, from base to tip, pressing your thumb to the red, leaky slit. Simon cursed under his breath.

He was well endowed, very well, actually. And as you pumped his cock slowly you pondered how it would even be possible for you to take him.

Your hand stilled at the base and you leaned forward, setting your lips with your tongue before brushing them over his tip. Simon held his breath, hands steady on the armrests.

You gave it an experimental kiss, eyeing him from between his legs. Then, you flattened your tongue against the head, licking a stripe over it, followed by another lick, this time along the shaft.

Simon reached his hand out to you, using a finger to tuck your hair behind your ear, then letting the hand rest against your cheek.

You looked up at him with doe eyes as you finally encapsulated the head of his cock with your mouth, giving it a light suck that made a “pop” sound. His lips parted further as he let out a breath he had been holding.

“Fuckin’ tease, baby,” he growled.

Baby, you liked that new one. You liked it a lot, actually.

You rewarded him by sliding your mouth down his shaft, taking him into your mouth inch by inch. Barely half way you were already gagging. You relaxed your throat to take him in forward.

Simon let out a sound, a long and quiet curse under his breath. His hand on your cheek moved further back into your hair, lightly grasping some of it.

The feeling of his fingers tightening into your hair made you moan, the vibration in your throat going straight to his cock, and the tight feeling going straight to your soaking cunt. You closed your thighs closed for some relief.

You took as much of him as you could before you retracted your head, sliding back up to the tip. You released him from your mouth and let out a sigh, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. It wasn’t even a second after that you took his cock back into your mouth, this time with more confidence.

Then you finally bobbed your head up and down on it, setting a steady pace. Your hands rested on Simon’s thighs and you felt his muscles tense under your touch. You heard his soft sounds as he basked in the feeling of you sucking his cock.

Your eyes fell closed for a moment before you felt his grip on your hair tighten.

“Uh-uh, look at me, sweetheart, up here.” He cooed, and you obeyed when your eyes snapped up to meet his. He watched you attentively under his long lashes, and you looked up at him with wide, blown pupils as your head bobbed up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he groaned. His other hand reached into your hair as he used both of them to style your hair into a ponytail. His touch was gentle and careful, and he gripped the hair with one of his fists. This allowed him to direct your pace now, making your head move up and down quickly.

It made another moan rumble in your throat, making his hips buck at the sound and sensation. His grip on your hair was tight and demanding and you'd be lying if you said you weren't loving it. You loved the fact that you were making Simon feel good with your mouth wrapped around his cock; evident by the way he tensed under you, how his hand guided your performance, the low growls that brewed in his chest along with the faint curses that came from his gritted teeth.

Your saliva soaked and dripped down his shaft, down to the base of his cock where it met his pelvis, the hair slightly dampening with a mix of it and with his sweat. Your pace was quicker, especially now that Simon started thrusting his hips up, fucking into your mouth.

With a commanding tug of your hair, he pulled you off his cock. The sudden release made you whine loudly, your spit coating your lips and dripping down your chin. You looked at him, cockdrunk and disheveled. You gave him a puzzled look as to why he stopped.

Then, Simon leaned forward, his fist not letting go of your hair as he crashed his lips against yours. You melted into it, savoring how buttery they were, their plumpness, as you audibly moaned into it. His tongue slipped into your mouth and he tasted the mix of you and himself in it.

He pulled away and whispered against your lips, his tone commanding, "Stand up, love."

He let go of your hair as you complied and stood up in front of him. He sat up on the chair, his hands on your waist now as he looked up at you. You looked back down at him, his pupils were swallowing you whole with a hungry gaze. You felt his hands smooth up and down your body, his touch heavy on you as if he was molding you like a piece of clay, learning the curves of your body and the tenderness of your flesh. You whimpered at the feeling of him touching you, something you had longed for the moment you met him.

His hands slipped under the hem of your dress, running up your bare skin.

"Been wantin' to feel you since the day I saw you," he purred, "so soft n' pretty."

The mix of his words and touch gave you goosebumps. He's been wanting you just as much as you have, you thought.

His fingers hooked onto the waist of your lacy panties, tugging them down lightly, not breaking eye contact with you as he watched you bite your lower lip, your cheeks flustered. Your hands rested on his shoulders as you let him. His knuckles ghosted against the skin of your legs as he took the panties off. You complacently stepped out of the garment.

"Good girl, lettin' me take these pretty wet panties off you." He bunched them in his fist, bringing the crotch up to his mouth, his eyes glued to yours as he stuck his tongue out to taste them before setting them aside. The sight made your pussy flutter, you were practically dripping down your thigh.

He hummed at the taste of you, then took hold of the back of your thigh with one hand and the other on the small of your back, guiding you to straddle him on the chair as he reclined back. You were now sitting on top of him, legs spread on each side of him with his thighs supporting you over him. Your face was impossibly red.

Your hands trailed down his chest, feeling the hardened muscles you had memorized the day you saw him shirtless and sweaty. Then down to his abdomen and v-line. The images he had teased you with on your previous meetings flashed in your memory. And now here he was, under you; you sitting on top of him with a sopping wet cunt that begged for him to touch it.

It was like he read your mind when his hand snaked under your dress once again, two of his fingers sliding between your slick folds, making you wince when they brushed over your swollen clit.

"Simon," you begged. It made him chuckle to see you so eager for him to touch you, and he rewarded you with a finger sliding into your entrance. Your mouth fell agape as you whined at the intrusion, your hand clasping around the fabric of his shirt.

"Feels good, love?" his finger slid in and out of you.

"M-More, please," your voice was soft and pleading.

"So needy," he teased before inserting a second finger, "You ask so nicely, baby."

The pressure of his two thick digits inside you made a moan fall from your lips, your walls clasping around them. You heard a satisfied hum from Simon as he felt your tightness.

"This pretty pussy's so tight, love. Y'get this wet from sucking my cock?" His voice was husky and gentle. His fingers alternated between curling inside you and pumping in and out at a slow and steady pace.

You nodded shamelessly in response, unable to form even the simplest answers, all you could muster were whimpers and moans. The pace of his fingers quickened, and you were seeing starts; a loud moan escaped you.

"Ahh, Simon!" your back arched, your hips involuntarily rolling. His hand on the small of your back was splayed out, supporting you as he held you closer to him. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the exposed skin of your chest, your shoulder, your neck, your jaw.

"Love hearin' you say my name, love," he purred against your skin before planting another kiss on it with those plush lips of his.

Your hands flew to the back of his neck, your fingers entwining in the hair there as you held him close to you. His fingers curled inside of you as you rolled your hips and fucked yourself on his digits.

"Want you to make yourself cum on my fingers, baby."

And you obliged, chasing your high as you rode his fingers, grinding your clit against his palm while he buried his fingers in you.

Your orgasm grew within you, you were at the cusp of it. Your hips were sloppy, you threw your head back with your eyes screwed shut as Simon fingered you to your climax. It hit you like a strike of lightning when you came, convulsing against Simon's hold and letting out choaked-out moans along with his name like a prayer.

"That's it, pretty girl," he soothed, letting you ride it out on his hand before he removed it from you. His other hand came up to your jaw, angling it to his face so he could press his lips against yours again.

You panted, lips lax against Simon's as he kissed you tenderly. You were out of it, coming down from your high. Then you realized the man under you was still painfully hard, his cock swollen and balls full; you hadn't achieved your goal of thanking him yet.

"Simon, I..." you started, biting your lip. The rest of the sentence felt too filthy to sound out, despite your recent shameless actions; so you brought your hand to his manhood, pumping it slowly and lightly. He understood what you meant, giving you a small chuckle.

"Wanna take care of me, sweetheart?" He cooed against your lips before giving you a chaste kiss. You nodded, reciprocating the kiss.

He hiked the hem of your dress up, exposing your lower half, and took hold of your hips to lift them up for access. You took his thick member in one of your hands, using the other hand on his shoulder for leverage as you angled his cock and sank down on it.

A long, breathy moan escaped the two of you in unison as the feeling of his large, thick dick entered your sensitive cunt.

"That's it, takin' me so well, sweet girl," he groaned as he bottomed out inside you, his pelvis flush against you. He remained still for a moment, basking in the sensation of your walls around his cock. It made you clench around him, trying to find a way to ease the burn of his cock stretching you out, and trying to find a release for your aching desire.

"Please, Simon," you begged.

"Use your words, darling."

"Please, fuck me, Simon." Your eyes were wide as you looked down at him, pleading him to move.

"Good girl," he praised, the grip on your hips tightened again as he lifted them up and sank them back down ever so slowly, finally moving. You whined in relief as he finally began fucking you, giving you what you had been pining for this whole time.

Simon bounced you up and down on his cock slowly at first, then picked up the pace and maintained it. His hands migrated to firmly grasp the plump flesh of your ass. You were sure you'd have the imprint of his large hands the next day.

Your arms were wrapped over his shoulders, supporting yourself as you were lifted up and down. Your legs spread as far as they could, letting him enter with as much ease as possible, making as much room for him to fill you up and fuck into you.

Simon's face was buried in the crook of your neck, huffing breaths against your skin. He lifted and planted you on his cock, over and over, at a relentless pace, making you a mess of moans all over again, him also becoming desperate to reach his climax.

His hips began thrusting up into you, making the head of his cock hit your back wall. You let out a loud moan at the feeling of him bullying his cock against your cervix, the feeling made you clench around him tightly

"Fuck...fuck, baby, your pussy's so good...huggin' my cock so tight. Y'like how I fuck you, pretty girl?"

"Yes!" You cried, tears welling in your eyes as Simon fucked up into you mercilessly, bouncing yourself in tandem with his thrusts. "Fuckin' me so good, Simon!" your words were slurred.

Simon groaned. He pressed a hand against the center of your abdomen, making you lean back on his cock, reaching a new angle that made his cock hit that sweet spot perfectly. The pressure making your vision hazy. Your hands reached behind you, supporting yourself on Simon's knees as he took hold of your hips and slammed you against his cock.

He cursed under his breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head for a moment, then fixing them on your vulnerable form, watching as your tits jiggled under your dress from the force of his thrusts. He was getting sloppy, on the edge of his climax.

But you came first, walls fluttering around his cock, hips faltering and shaking from your orgasm. Your mouth fell open into an o-shape as you let out a string of lewd moans and chants of Simon's name.

He was close behind, closer than ever, "That's it, that's it, baby... 'm close, so fuckin' close."

You whimpered, watching his needy face; jaw clenched, those feathery blonde brows knitted together.

"Wanna make me cum, pretty girl? That how y'wanna thank me?"

You nodded fervently, "Wanna make you, cum Simon, please, please please."

You let him use you to reach his climax. He rolled your dress up higher, exposing your tummy to him. And he immediately released his cock from the confines of your pussy, strings of cum splattering over your exposed belly and cunt. His lips fell open as he let out a breathy moan. The sight of his cock painting you with his cum made you bite your lip to suppress a whine.

The two of you sat there catching your breath. Simon reclined back on the chair, his hands holding you up by your ribs when you could barely sit up straight. You were both covered in a film of sweat, cheeks flushed, looking disheveled, and you had a mess of cum over you.

"Fuck, 'm sorry, love," he took a handful of tissues from the side table next to the chair and cleaned you up diligently and carefully. You hummed, giving him a tipsy smile.

" 's okay," was all you could enunciate. Simon chuckled at your fucked-out demeanor, tossing aside the tissues as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"Guess we're even now," you said, placing a hand on his cheek, pressing a thumb against his lower lip.

"You won't be needin' my services anymore?" he said cockily.

You smiled at him, "I think I'll be needing them more after this."

Taglist (everyone that commented in part 1! thank you!): @hexxxsstuff @valkyriekill @ghostlythots @tumblinginoz @chocolatetakoyakis @cumikering @yvng97

[mngo-jii]

Suggestion cuz this boy has been living in my head rent free for the last week

A Daniel x f!reader where the reader notices how much time Daniel has lately stuffed himself in the potions classroom and decides to drag him out for some butterbeer and fun at hogsmeade

“ A (reluctant) TRIP TO HOGSMEADE. ” d. page

wc: 1.1k

letter ✉️: i’m sorry this is quite short and probably not what you expected </3 this is the most i could muster up at the moment... i would wait until i'm in the best mood to write but i dont want to keep you waiting any longer

“You look knackered.”

“Well hello to you too, Daniel!” You grin at the familiar head of red hair, before it forms into an ‘O’ at the number of potions cluttered and sprawled around the table. You wonder how he’s been given permission to spend such an abominable amount of hours in the Potions classroom. But, you digress, this is Daniel after all.

“Jeez, Daniel. How long have you been here?” You stroll yourself around the table to meet Daniel’s face—who isn’t really looking at you but rather at his cauldron. “Don’t you think you should settle down for the day? We’ve only got 48 hours of full leisure, you know.”

His cauldron lights up, casting a purple glow on his face before he backs away with a hum to grab ahold of a bottle across the table.

“I could say the same to you,” he leans forward, keeping a steady hand to pour only a tiny drop into the mixture, before he straightens up once again and stirs it in, “Have you been running around the Hogwarts grounds again?"

You huff, brushing a strand of hair off of your face to get a better look on what he’s making. “Bored out of my mind, I tried to look for the others to go to Hogsmeade with—but everyone else was already too engulfed in their own thing! Though, you seem just as busy too—making... A hair-raising potion.”

“Alihotsy, actually. Why don’t you try Gosammer?”

“Very funny. Now—” You tug onto his robe, “Please please please, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?”

He halts, eyes darting from your hand to your face.

“Agh... Are you really incapable of going on your own? You sound like a child begging to go to the candy shop.”

“Maybe I am! There’s this new cute candy shop down in Hogsmeade, or so I heard.”

Silence fills in the room for a split second.

“Besides! You could use a little fun. It’s been a week since you’ve went out of your way to hang out with us, spending so much time with your cauldron like it’s your girlfriend.” You grinned, swiping your finger on the edges of said cauldron as you earned an unamused look from the boy—“No.” He says.

You groan, planting your face on the surface of the table, defeated.

That’s it. You might as well just stuff your face into the covers of your bed and hope to god something extravagant happens, so you get the chance to stick your nose into it yourself.

Or, I can watch Daniel make potions all day... You considered, leaning your head onto the palm of your hand. It’s better than nothing.

Silence completely falls onto the floor of the room, engulfing you two in nothing but the bubbly sounds of the fermented potion.

Your eyes follow Daniel’s hands—grabbing several herbs from across the table, stirring the pot, fingers patiently tapping the table. And you follow the movement of the mixture, swirling, smoke emerging from the pot ever so often.

In contrast, Daniel had already rejected your offer—or rather pleas—to go to Hogsmeade with you. But he’ll never tell you to leave.

Part of him wishes he could, despite how he enjoys your accompany. He can’t help but shrink under your unwavering gaze as you watch his every move like he’s the most interesting thing in the world. Or maybe at the moment he is now, he can’t blame you for your boredom after all.

Before you found him, you had wandered about the castle, feverishly searching for who you may run into to hang out for the weekend. Though, nearly everyone else was busy—Robyn had already dragged Kevin off to play Quidditch (much to the boy’s dismay), Lottie had gotten into an art frenzy and have been constantly painting portraits all day, and Ivy is off to visit her nana.

At that moment, you felt as though you have already used the very few last drops of your energy walking around, and you started contemplating if you should just take a shower and sleep all day to rest your worn out legs.

You musn’t be downcast on a day free of classes and scheduled activities, it’s the only time you’re able to get leisure after all! Though you had hoped to spend some time with your friends. Yet, despite the tiredness of your legs working to find them, they’re already immersed in their own things.

Your gaze strips away from the cauldron towards Daniel’s face, deciding you cannot possibly take this. You had walked all the way here just to be thrown a big fat no to your face once again. But now, more importantly, this boy had stuffed himself in the Potions classroom as if it were his second home! He might as well drown himself in countless potions once the room is filled with them.

Before you could even say a thing, his shoulders rise up and immediately he plops his arms down on the table, as if he was defeated.

“Fine.” He surrenders himself to you, as always.

“But only before sundow—”

“Let’s go!” In a matter of seconds, he’s being dragged by his arm out of the classroom, completely neglecting the cauldron that had been left on the table.

"What is that...?" Daniel eyes you peculiarly.

You look back at him, your hands struggling to adjust the goggles on your face. "Orange Eye of Newt Goggles."

Daniel doesn't say anything as he turns his head with a lingering gaze over to you, before shifting his attention on the variety of accesories in front of him.

He allows himself to curiously scan the items—hats, goggles, robes, scarves, glasses... All shaped, designed, in such diverse and odd ways that completely oppose each other.

He doesn't react quickly as a shadow looms over him, before a peculiar object made out of straw is forcibly pushed down onto his head.

Daniel panics for a split second, feeling as if he's about to get sacked, only to go stiff at the sound of you stiffling your giggles behind him.

He turns to look at his reflection, seeing as ¼ of his head is swallowed whole by the biggest top hat he had ever seen.

"...Of course."

Long story short, the others found the two of you hours later on a window seat, drifting into a deep slumber after such a long day. You're practically glued together, the sound of peaceful breathing overlapping.

They're expecting Daniel to complain about it when he wakes up, but only the two of you know how smiley he was the entire time. Not like he would admit it.

Kevin studies the two of you further, leaning forward as if he had discovered something incredibly rare. Maybe it is.

He sniffs. "...Is that... butterbeer?"

[faerghusfucker]

Drabble idea: childhood friends who think the other one betrayed them only to realize way too late they've been on each other's side the whole time. Give us that angst. ~What am I doing, I don't even like angst if it isn't followed by hurt/comfort~

so this one was rlly fun bc you left it open for me to choose the character, so i OBVIOUSLY chose Sylvain and Felix lol. dw you'll get a snippet of comfort at the end lol i could never do hurt without comfort.

also this is categorically LONGER THAN A DRABBLE i think i'm incapable of writing drabbles actually this ended up being six pages in my google doc lol SURPRISE

Swordplay

TW: death, angst, funerals, descriptions of wounds/burns

The training grounds were empty, just as Felix liked them. The first week of school had been so tiresome, with the grounds filled with absolute amateurs and spoiled nobles who had never even seen real swords, much less wielded them. Every match was an easy victory, something that massaged Felix’s ego but did nothing for his skills. The best challenge he could hope for with this hopeless lot was a height disadvantage, but he was so nimble that a simple strike to the back of the knees was enough to guarantee victory. It was so utterly boring, just winning and winning and winning and barely being able to find a space to train without being dragged into some poor loser’s match. But finally, the initial mystique of the training grounds had worn off on the general student population, leaving them empty during Felix’s preferred training hours. Perfect.

He selected his favorite training sword off of the rack; one of the wooden ones that had a slightly thinner blade than the rest, mimicking the Levin swords that caught his eye at the marketplace. His father hadn’t sent him with enough pocket money to splurge on such a blade himself, but perhaps if he honed his skills well, he could convince the Professor to let him wield one during missions, instead of the typical iron and steel swords that he had fallen into monotony with over the past few years. The Professor, who had been one of the first people to beat him since… he’ll beat them eventually. But not before asking them for a new training regimen, since his had barely changed since…

“Watch your step, Fe! An enemy would’ve tripped you by now, you’re lucky I don’t fight dirty like that. Stagger your stance and keep it there! I’m serious, these things matter.”

”Hmph. Trip me then, instead of just telling me.”

”Sorry, I’m not intent on making my baby brother cry right now.”

”Shut up!!”

He still remembered the footwork he taught him. To keep his feet planted and his knees slightly bent, and to treat his sword like an extension of his arm. When Felix felt grounded in his stance, he swung his sword, feeling that nice whoosh that came when the wood blade cut through the air, the sound slightly lower than that of the metal swords he trained with back home. He could understand why Garreg Mach opted to offer wooden swords in their training grounds— you can’t trust rookies with real metal, after all— but nothing quite felt like the real thing. Still, a sword was a sword, and he would keep up his training regimen even if he was left with only twigs to wield. 

He took a few more swings, imagining someone in front of him dodging his attacks and sending a few of their own his way. He parried and swung at the figure, fighting back thoughts that he was now older than the age he was when he died. He tried not to think about whether the height of his imagined training partner was even accurate; would he still be taller than him now, or would he carry the family curse of being just a little too short? Would his hair still be that length, or would the knights finally pressure him to get a trim? Would he have lines under his eyes, or would his face still be youthful and pretty and perfect? Father never mentioned Glenn developing wrinkles, but it was all he could seem to talk about when Felix would join him for breakfast. He’d think of mentioning the sleepless nights, the way he’d close his eyes and see his big brother’s casket in the darkness, but Rodrigue had been so damn proud to lower that box into the ground that it was no use. He could deal with some teasing about his eye bags. He could deal with all of it.

“Come on, you can’t deal with me leaving for a little trip? Don’t be ridiculous, if you come with me, who’s gonna take care of Ingrid while I’m gone?”

”It’s not just you, though… why do you and Dima get to go on a trip together? It’s not fair!” 

“Well, when you become a knight, we can go on every single royal expedition with the king and his family, alright? But that means you need to practice real hard, okay? No slacking on your training, even when I’m not around. I’ll be testing you when I’m back from Duscur, and I want you to be able to beat me. Maybe by then I’ll be the second youngest in the royal knights, yeah?”

”Hmph, challenge accepted.”

”Good, I’ll be interested to see your progress. Don’t get into too much trouble with Sylvain, alright? And be good to Mother and Father, you menace.”

”…Fine.”

Felix kept up his little pretend spar, and actually held his own for a while, until he overdid a swing and dropped his sword, the weapon landing with a thunk! against the cobblestone flooring. Damned wooden swords.

Fifteen years, and he had yet to win a match against him. He’ll get him next time. 

As he went to fetch his sword, he heard a familiar set of footsteps coming from behind him. He knew those footsteps anywhere, but it wasn’t often that he would be the one sneaking up on Felix. Usually it was the other way around— 

“Felix! Long time no see, buddy. I can’t believe we haven’t seen each other since—“ Sylvain quickly remembered himself, deciding he shouldn’t dredge up those memories when he didn’t know how his friend was dealing with them quite yet.

”…Since we were kids! Though, I can’t say I’m surprised to find you here of all places. You really can’t stay away from your swords, huh Fe?”

”Don’t call me that. Pick up a sword or leave. I’m not stopping my training for chatter.” 

Ah, so that’s still a sore spot, then.

Sylvain felt silly doing this— after all, he hadn’t touched a sword in months and was painfully rusty— but if it would make his friend talk to him, he would endure the humiliation.

”Alright, walk me through this again, will you? You know I don’t do this stuff on my own.”

Goddess above, what an amateur.

”I’m not teaching you how to use a sword, dipshit. If you need to be transferred to the daycare, go ask the Professor.” Felix spat, resisting the urge to further chide the red-haired idiot before him. 

“Woah, language! Is that how a knight of Faerghus is supposed to talk?”

You sound just like him…

”I’m not a knight of Faerghus, Sylvain.”

“Felix, don’t tell me you’re still doing this—“

Sylvain was caught off-guard by Felix running at him, intent to start the sparring match early. Luckily, his reflexes were still strong, and he landed a mediocre parry before his friend quickly resumed the onslaught.

“Hey, I wasn’t ready!”

”Tough shit, mister knight of Faerghus!” Felix growled out the last words, his voice having a venom to it that was different to the normal sarcasm his words were laced in. Sylvain was truly a terrible swordsman; sure, he was strong, but his technique was so lacking that any worthy opponent could trip him up. No wonder he stuck with lances.

It wasn’t long before Sylvain’s purely defensive strategy started to fail him, and Felix easily disarmed him, a far cry from when Sylvain would win just because he was a little bigger and stronger. It seemed like he would need to get some sword training in if he ever hoped to brag in little FeFe’s face again.

”You’re not even trying, this was a waste of my time. What a disappointment.” Felix scolded, starting to put the two swords back on the rack. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll work on it. Y’know, fighting you that time… you really use your sword just like Glenn did. It was nice, felt like training with him again.”

Ouch

”Lucky you. Maybe you can go and get yourself killed too, like a real knight of Faerghus.” 

“There’s really no need to be mean, Felix. I…” How on earth was he supposed to say this? Sylvain had known this boy since he was born, yet he still had no idea how to talk to him.

”I’m sorry about Glenn. I don’t think I ever got to properly tell you that. What happened was… it was horrible. He was like a brother to me too, y’know. I’m so, so sorry.”

Felix grimaced, but it looked more like a scowl. “I don’t care. If you’re gonna prattle on about how he died with honor and fulfilled his duty, I’d suggest taking it to Ingrid. I hear enough from my father about it.”

”Why would I say something like that? What… what did your father say?” Sylvain asked quietly, his somber tone something unnatural even to himself. After the Tragedy, it had been so hard to get his friends to move, to say anything, to even look him in the eyes. Even now, Ingrid deflated whenever she saw him, Dimitri barely spoke to him except when he was caught breaking curfew, and Felix… well, he was far from the cute little crybaby that followed him around when they were younger. He knew it was a selfish thought, that his friends were hurting more than he could fathom, but the King and his knights weren’t the only ones lost on that terrible day. It seemed like his friends were lost to those flames, even four years later. 

“You don’t remember? Typical.” Was the best response that Felix could muster. Of course Sylvain wouldn’t remember something like that. He was too preoccupied with trying to get everyone back to joining his idiotic schemes. He never learned.

”Why don’t you tell me, instead of being a dick? I’m your friend, Felix. I don’t know why you think everyone wants to hurt you all the time, but it’s getting annoying. You know we all just want to be your friend, right? It gets pretty hard to keep trying when all you wanna do is keep some… some wall up. I’m not asking you to pretend like nothing happened, just let me in.” 

”Felix, let me in! I haven’t seen you in a week, don’t you wanna train? Glenn said you can’t be a knight if you don’t train.”

”I don’t wanna be a knight…”

”What? Yes you do, Felix, it’s all you ever talk about. Don’t you wanna be like him?”

”Like him!? I don’t wanna be like anyone! Leave me alone, Sylvain.”

”But… Ingrid won’t go outside either. And Father said not to bother Dimitri…”

“Go bother Ingrid, then.”

Felix had always been observant; ever since he was young, he noticed things that others didn’t. He noticed how Glenn’s technique changed after he was knighted, how he lost the stiff, practiced stance of a squire and how he started to attack with a hunger that Felix wouldn’t encounter again until joining the academy. He noticed how his father, the self-pitying bastard, never took any measures to treat the bruise he inflicted onto his face after giving his sorry excuse for a eulogy, instead opting to let his eye stay ugly and purple for nearly two weeks. And he noticed how Sylvain was acting… different, that day. He didn’t cry at the funeral— neither of them did— and his eyes had a hollow look to them that he’d never seen before. He’d recognize it later on his father, when he would retreat to his study after meetings and refuse to speak to anyone.

”Were you drunk at the funeral?” Felix asked seemingly out of nowhere. He’d never considered it before, but it made sense; Sylvain had given Felix sips of bottles that he shouldn’t have had before, and while he personally had never been drunk enough to be severely impaired, he wouldn’t put such behavior past Sylvain’s younger self. 

It seemed like he was right in his assumption, as Sylvain’s face grew red, nearly matching his hair.

“I- what makes you think that?”

”How could you not remember what he said? And… and what I did?” he added the last part quietly, knowing that everyone who was present that day would remember what happened well. Even at the academy, the children of minor lords in Faerghus glared and whispered about him, since the last time that several of them would’ve seen him was on that fateful day, when his thirteen year old self had been possessed by some force that made him think it was a good idea to walk up to the podium, get on his tippy-toes, and punch his father out in front of everyone. He did regret that a little, but he’d rather die before telling anyone that.

”Okay, yes, I was drunk, but that’s beside the point. Are you gonna tell me what happened or not?” Sylvain pushed, trying to lighten his tone so it felt less like an argument. He and Felix never used to fight when they were young, but now it was all they ever did, and he hated it more than anything.

Felix huffed, seeming to hesitate before he recounted the events of his brother’s funeral, a day that had irreversibly damaged his relationship with his father, and his country as a whole.

”He… my father, he said that Glenn died ‘like a true knight.’ He made the ultimate sacrifice for his country, as a son of House Fraldarius is expected to. The bastard.” Felix mumbled the last part, refusing to look into Sylvain’s wide-eyed stare. He’d always hated eye contact.

”…What the hell? Felix, I had no idea. Fuck, why would he say something like that? About Glenn of all people?” Sylvain rambled, running a hand through his unruly red hair before remembering something else about the funeral— something that even alcohol couldn’t hide from his subconscious.

”Say, they didn’t let you see the body, did they? You were only thirteen, I don’t think your father would’ve let you, right?”

”…No.”

Sylvain chuckled dryly, sitting down on a nearby bench as he watched Felix swing the training sword again.

”Well, they let me. My father said it was better that I see my first body that way instead of in battle, but I don’t think it would’ve mattered either way. I don’t wanna traumatize you when I say this, but… it was awful, Felix. It looked like someone had tossed him off a cliff and lit him on fire, there were so many burns and gashes… They cut his hair, Fe, that’s how bad it was. It was either that or leaving him with bald spots. Your dad couldn’t look, you know that? He took a glance and walked away. But I looked…” Sylvain trailed off, putting his head in his hands as the memory of Glenn, laid in that box with his armor on, as if anything could’ve protected him from the fate that befell him, filled his mind. Somehow, the haircut was the worst part; the men of Fraldarius always kept their hair long, and Glenn in particular had inherited the flowing waves that Rodrigue sported. Sylvain had always been jealous of his hair, he wished that his would fall so beautifully instead of sticking up and out like it did. The girls always liked a man with long hair…

”I’m telling you this, ‘cause I don’t think that was a proud or knightly death. That’s not something that can happen when you fight valiantly until the bitter end. They murdered him, Felix. Plain and simple. He didn’t die like a true knight or whatever bullshit your dad said.”

Sylvain didn’t notice when Felix put his sword down and sat next to him, but he did notice that he exhaled a little harder after his last sentence, as if he wanted to laugh.

“Is that how a knight of Faerghus is supposed to talk?” He mocked, though the words were empty.

”I’m not a knight of Faerghus.”

If Sylvain blinked, he would miss the ghost of a smile that showed up on his friend’s face. He really did look old for being seventeen.

”I guess that makes two of us.”

[minikoko-a]

oh em gee I’ve been dying for klaus fics!! I loved your Jesper one btw !!

Can u pls write a Jesper with a quiet and shy reader who’s super sensitive?? Like if jesper said something sarcastic she would think like “omg he’s making fun of me” or “He thinks I’m stupid” and just start bursting out in tears

sorry I’m just rambling atp

hi!!

of course, i'm so glad that you liked it and i really hope you like this one too

i use fem!reader btw !

thank you for your request!

kiss me, and it's not a joke — jesper johansson x shy and sensitive fem! reader

a little short!, use of (y/n)

The smell of fresh paint reached your senses, your nose was already accustomed to it. The brush that was finely handled to paint the most hidden points of the toy was handled by you, that you were sitting quietly at a table somewhat apart of the rest.

You felt comfortable that way.

Whole Smeerensburg knew you for being quite a shy person and that's why they didn't get too close to you or didn't consider you a target for bothering, because to be honest, you were never a bother. Every time you walked through a fight with a fearful step hoping that you wouldn't get hit, they themselves made you move quickly, without being hurt in the process, of course.

And now you find yourself helping the big woodcutter apart from everyone, together with the Sámi were making toys and some were painting.

And all because of that blond postman, Jesper Johansson.

"Hey" Jesper's voice made you look up, pausing your action. "Uh, Hi" You said simply as you left the brush on the table.

There was a small, somewhat awkward silence and that do Jesper pursued his lips trying to find something to start a conversation with you and even more so because you were one of the few who didn't treat him badly and offered to help. He pulled a chair close, but not before looking back where Klaus was giving him an encouraging look. "And now how did i start the conversation?" he thought.

Jesper before coming to Smeerensburg was quite good at starting a conversation and had had one or another date but with you it was getting complicated, not because of you, of course, you aren't the problem, it was him who with your shyness that you put aside to help him and all of you ended up interested in you.

Swallowing a little nervously, he saw the pile of toys carved in the shape of different animals and carousels painted in such a pretty and colorful way. Stunned, took a dry one and looked at it more closely.

"You... painted all of these?" You looked up somewhat fearfully, tightened the skirt of your dress with your hands.

"Yeah, i painted them" There was a spark of pride and happiness in your eyes that Jesper was recognizing your work, even more because in the span of months you generated a attraction in him.

Everything was going well until Jesper said those words: "I don't believe you"

You quickly lowered your gaze and left the cabin quickly, leaving Jesper unaware of your absence and with the words still on the verge of coming out.

"Literally looks like it was painted by a professional! Woah, where... (y/n)?" The toy was left on the table and he began to look around the cabin seeing the half-open door. Before moving forward he walked into Klaus who was looking at him with a "you ruined it" gaze.

"Do i fucked up?"

"Pretty much"

Jesper took his blonde locks between his fingers stressed. "But I was supposed to be flattering her! She didn't let me finish" Klaus sighed amused, placing his hand on the postman's shoulder and walking him to the door.

"You know what she's like and the first thing that occurred to you was to say "I don't believe you?"" He lowered his gaze with an arched eyebrow. "She will obviously think that you are just seeing her as incapable, instead of telling her that she did a wonderful job and she's like a talented painter." Jesper looked up and raised an eyebrow as well.

"I didn't know about those techniques of yours" He joked, causing a small laugh from the other, patted his shoulder and with that same hand that was previously on his shoulder, he motioned for him to come out and talk to you.

As Jesper stepped outside, he was greeted by the loud blast of the iconic cold of the forest. Starting to walk among the trees, he found you sitting on a log, looking at the little wooden bird houses and his heart tightened as he saw your slightly swollen eyes, that actually, the feeling about his heart getting tightened for you was so new for him. With a heavy sigh, he approached you and sat down next to you on the log, your legs tightened and put your hand on your cheek, turning to look at the opposite side of where he was sitting.

"Sorry, I'll do it again if you like-"

"What? No! No!" Jesper raised his voice a little, but when he noticed, you were looking at him quite shy. "Ok, i don't do it" You raised your hands a little, with a neutral voice.

"No! I didn't mean that! Ugh!" Something that you couldn't deny is that you found Jesper's gestures a little amusing as you lowered your hands. "I mean, inside, that i couldn't believe you did it because it literally looks like it was done by a professional." blinking a little, you looked at him and about to say something he nervously spoke again, interrupt you. "I mean, it doesn't mean you're not a professional, because you have the talent of one, just... just forget it".

There was a small silence but a big laugh escaped from your lips, Jesper looked at you.

"I understood you in the first explanation and thank you" You turned your gaze back to the little wooden houses hanging from the large logs. As you began to speak, smoke came out of your lips. "It's just that i used to be a painter but my family made me doubt a lot about my ability since they didn't want artists in their family tree."

The touch of a hand other than yours made you turn your head towards Jesper, his hand was on yours softly.

"Well, i think you're an incredible artist and an... incredible person, a pretty and wonderful one" The blonde's tone was sweet and warm, something rare coming from him, your cheeks were so warm from how your body heat was focusing on that area of your face.

When you hear his words, tears want to appear in your eyes. How many years had you waited to hear those words? A few, and more from someone you love? A few too and even more, from someone who your heart beat with a happy and loving rhythm? absolutely yes when you met him.

"Hey, don't cry" His hand rose to your face, wiping away with his thumb the small tears that threatened to fall. "I haven't given you the ring yet"

"The ring?" And that's where Jesper's love bubble burst.

And again Jesper was looking for excuses to say but, sure enough, he had fucked up again. With a smile already more confident of what you were going to do, now it was your hands that were on his cheeks, getting closer little by little, you gave him a soft kiss near the corner of his lips causing a bright crimson red dyed his cheeks.

"I'll wait for it" You quickly stood up and, with happy little jumps, you went back into the cabin.

"And I'll wait for a kiss from you" He sighed, running his fingers over the corner where you kissed him to his lips. "And it isn't a joke."

And he stood up from the log following your path back to the cabin, to work or at least that's what he would try after that kiss.

[loser4loserswhok1ll]

Matchup maybe possibly? 👀

I'm a 5'1" short king trans guy and I need to wear glasses but I simply Do Not out of spite. My hobbies include eating, drawing, writing, and eating some more, so I'm hefty and hairy like a bear cub. My favourite genres of music are nu metal and alt rock, and I dress like a stereotypical dad with button-ups and cargo shorts. I'm also autistic and my dream job is to be a mortician since medical science is a big special interest of mine!

I hope that's enough to go off of! Have a great day / night!!

You sound so cool tf (true asf with the short king stuff i feel you)

not gonna lie i was fighting for my life choosing this one, so i hope its not god awful

I match you with...

Stu Macher !

He'd never say it out loud, but he is fascinated by you entirely. You guys share similar music tastes, though he indulges in pop / punk rock more than alt rock. Your guys favorite shared bands are korn and slipknot, though he wishes you would indulge in weezer more (hes a loser in my heart of hearts.) He loves how you listen to such heavy music but look like Just Some Dude. Hes the adhd to your autism, good luck. Hes just as blind as you so good luck trying to read menus, both of you are hopeless and sightless. I dont know how either of you are still alive at this point. Loves to feed you also. He has a huge fixation with your mouth. Loves to watch your mouth as you talk, eat, drink, even just resting and dormant. Also hes in LOVE with how hairy you are. One of his strongest fascinations with you is how well your hair grows. Hes incapable of growing any hair basically so he likes that you contradict him. When youre drawing he'll do that annoying thing where he constantly asks stupid questions. "You drew that?" "Can you draw me?" "How'd you do that?" "Do you draw often?" so good luck drawing in peace. He'll ask often if he can dress you, choose your outfits and style you like his personal doll. He also steals your clothes. When you tell him about your dream of becoming a mortician, he kind of thinks its a joke at first. When you solidify that you are serious, he will be so supportive. Calls you smart and a genius and other nicknames in that pattern anytime you infodump or tell him something you know. Will fantasize about you having to work on a body he killed. Its exciting to him how vastly different yet oh so similar your guys interests are :D. He asks you suspicious questions all the time too. "Hey, where would you have to hit if you wanted to keep someone alive but also paralyze them? Like,, with a knife or something." "hey babe, what happens if you accidentally stab through your thigh? do you, like, bleed to death or do you still live?" "Babe, I need to know something. How hard do you have to hit someone in the head with a blunt object for it to kill them? Like, do you have to cave their skull in or can you just keep it in one piece but still kill the person???" If you dont know hes one of the ghostfaces already, he wont tell you for a long time. One time, after he asked a lot of extremely suspicious questions, you made some joke about him being a murderer. He laughed but then his face went blank. "What if i was?" and anyway he told you the truth and was in awe that you didnt leave him. yeah you guys are in love.

hope you like your pairing! sorry for how damn late this was. If you havent seen my post, i was on vacation for a week and had 0 internet so i had to take break. have a wonderful day/night!

[eggplant-crusader]

Hi, I just wanna say that I love your wenclair fics so much and thank you for sharing them to us! 🥰

That being said, idk if someone already asked this but what are the top 5 fics you love that you've written and the top 5 fics you love that are written by others?

Thank you so much!!!

My favorite fics I've written:

Bad Night - First wenclair fic, and I have a very distinct memory of the moment when my brain broke a little as I realized oh. I think I just got into Wednesday Addam's head. Oh. That's not great.

Leviathan - barely a fic, but I'm proud of how much I did with so little. It was written as a byproduct of the aforementioned moment when writing Bad night. I feel like I didn't so much write it as vomit it.

The Nine Ghosts of Felicia Hardy - My first silkcat fic is perhaps a bit messy because it's written as a divergence from a specific comic book issue, but this one was where I really started getting into how I would write the characters interacting.

Zugzwang - my favorite of my Silkcat fics, where I think I found my favorite things to do with them.

The Scorpion's Nature - here to rep my darker fics. Writing this was a bit of a nightmare and I didn't think it was going to get done, but it ended up happening and I'm happy about that.

Honorable mention to Because, because I wish I could write a million Tanthamore novels, but I just don't have it in me. This is all I could give them, and I kinda hate that, because it's barely a fic.

As for fics written by others:

This is a bit awkward, but I don't read THAT many fics, and the more I write for a pairing, the less I read for them, because I'm already getting my fix from my own brain.

There's also a bunch of fics I've lost track of because it's been years and because I never bookmarked or subscribed to them because I'm terrible at that and they were complete. This especially applies to Pricefield.

So, with all that in mind:

Exposure, a Holstein fic by Makeme123. I'm incredibly glad it's available again, and I rushed to download it in case it's hidden once more.

The Road to Home also Holstein by Makeme123. I'm sorry they just write straight up novels with such good structure and so many great moments.

Raven in the den, wolf in the nest, a Wenclair fic by Barbara_Lazuli - I think it's no secret that barb and I just vibe with each other's work, we have some similar ideas about what Wenclair, and especially Enid I think, could/should be like. This one is long, nicely structured, and very fun.

In Due Time, a Holstein fic by lizardwriter - this is a bit of a weird one, but it's here because I used to be incapable of reading second-person fics, and then I read this and it was like a switch flipped because this fic really HAD to be written in second person. This led me to write some interesting stuff in second person (one is not a fic, another one is a korrasami fic and let's leave it at that).

Danse Macabre, a Wenclair fic by Cruci_fics. It's here to represent all of their wenclair fics tbh, they're all short and sweet, very good stuff, and it's what kept us sane during the early days.

There's a million more I wish I could mention and I can't remember. I've read. So much Holstein.

[blujayonthewing]

I'm inserting a crisp dollar into the Thoughts About Felix machine, wondering:

What are his sleeping habits like?

What are his coping mechanisms?

He's granted three wishes. What's the fourth thing he would wish for?

How would you describe him, using only emoji?

me @ this ask

Left to his own devices he's naturally inclined to be crepuscular; in his home village it was normal for most people to sleep both in the middle of the night and the middle of the day (though a little longer at night), and for the day to start well before dawn and end well after dark. Since he's kind of a loner and drifter at the moment he can usually still get away with this kind of sleeping schedule even after having left home; people get the impression that he never sleeps, or must sleep really poorly, because he appears to be out wandering around at all hours, but really he's just splitting up his sleep. After spending so much time in human/ mixed cities he has gotten better at being able to adjust to only sleeping at night when needs be, but he gets noticeably sleepy around lunchtime if he's not getting naps in.

He's a pretty light sleeper, partly because his hearing is so sensitive; he likes to be cozy, and preferably somewhere very quiet and dark, but he can fall asleep fairly easily almost anywhere. I feel like I have a lot of OCs who routinely stay up way too late/ refuse to sleep or, like, sleepwalk, or are otherwise Bad At Sleep, but actually his sleep habits are generally pretty good, unusual circadian rhythm notwithstanding, lol.

YELLS IT'S GETTING SO LONG SORRY I AM INCAPABLE OF BREVITY SDFKJHDFKGJ

Coping mechanisms! Small scale/ acute: he fidgets a lot, chews on things. He's mostly gotten himself out of the habit of biting his nails by redirecting to other stuff (he goes through pencils a lot faster than he actually wears them out with use). A big go-to is seeking space to be alone, particularly somewhere high up; as a kid he used to climb trees a lot, and now in aboveground cities he spends a lot of time sitting on roofs.

For bigger/ more ongoing things... it depends. On the one hand, it can feel comforting to surround himself with people by spending time in places that feel crowded without being intimate, like markets or popular taverns, but it stresses him out if people can tell he's Going Through Something, so he ends up isolating a lot instead, or just hanging out with animals and avoiding people (pigeons aren't usually good enough at humanoid body language to pick up on and ask about anything short of an actual breakdown, for one thing, but on the other hand breaking down fully in front of animals still feels significantly less stressful than in front of other people, somehow). He hates talking about himself, and he really hates trying to explain his feelings, especially when he's already having a bad time, so he doesn't really get a lot of support even when he really needs it. He mostly doesn't Journal His Feelings with his sketch/ travel journal, but I think he's more inclined to do so at least a little bit when he's trying to cope with something just because he's got no other good outlet, much less someone he can actually talk to.

In terms of coping beyond the immediate 'managing the feelings' sense, he always wants to understand things as much as possible, so a big part of coping with anything is to try to learn everything about it he can. Like, not that this has happened to him but he's very much primed to be the guy whose loved one disappears/ is killed under suspicious circumstances which sets off a chain of events leading to his single-handedly unraveling some deep convoluted conspiracy-- you know? Something extremely upsetting and Deeply Weird happened to him before the campaign started, and now he's obsessed with making sense of it. Honestly, now that I'm writing this all out, I imagine his interest in studying people and body language and social nuances and motivations came at least partly from a way to cope with not understanding those things intuitively like other people seem to, and being really bad at performing social skills correctly himself 🤔

Lacing my fingers in front of my lips pensively. The wishes question is so intriguing. ...... okay. I have his three wishes. The unwished fourth wish is 'I wish for [people who left him for dead] to forget that I exist.'

the lad in emojis: ���🤫🐈👁👁👂🔍🍂💬❔