#the next battle was a success.... i couldn't leave my one behind

[pikkissis]

can u spot the slip up, the panic, and the heartache

God Bless!

[seokmthw]

after midnight | sung hanbin

⇢ pairing: hanbin x afab reader

⇢ warnings: best friends to lovers, fluff, a smidge of angst if you squint, first time smut, marking, oral (female receiving), explicit language, overall extremely soft

⇢ word count: 2.5k

⇢ synopsis: late night confessions with your best friend lead to things getting heated before he leaves for a few months.

⇢ note: ohhh i absolutely love how this turned out :( it's something i had partially written way back when, but never finished, and i figured that since i've been so inspired to write lately, i would! i hope you all enjoy, this is definitely one of my favorites! friendly reminder that i only write smut with afab readers because it's what i'm most comfortable with!

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never in your life did you think you would find yourself in this position. 

to be fair, this kind of situation itself wasn’t uncommon; you were laying in your best friend’s bed with blankets strewn about and your heads propped up by millions of pillows. but something was slightly different this time in that it would be the last you’d see of hanbin for months.

zb1 had announced a world tour shortly after their debut, which would require them to travel to many different countries, and could take a bit of time if there were setbacks or possible reschedules of shows. to say you didn’t take the news of the tour well was an understatement, even if you were happy the group was proving to be successful enough to be able to travel to a plethora of different countries just after debut. 

you didn’t think you’d have to be away from him for so long, especially so soon, but now the two of you were stuck spending the last night together watching a drama in silence, the only light in the room coming from the tv and a small lamp that was on hanbin’s desk. you’d spent your entire lives in the company of one another and now to break that record for what felt like an eternity filled you to the brim with dread. 

sighing, you mumbled, “hanbin?”

he hummed questioningly in response, his body shifting onto his side so he could face you while you talked. 

“this fucking sucks.”

hanbin scoffed, placing his hand onto his chest in mock offense, “i think the show is quite funny, myself.”

you offered him the faintest of smiles you could muster, closing your eyes and sucking in a long, deep breath to prevent your voice from trembling as you spoke, “you know what i’m talking about.”

his facade dropped quickly, his eyes filling up with a deep sadness as he threw his arm over your shoulder comfortingly, “i know it does. but just think; i’ll be back in no time and you’ll have to deal with me everyday again for the rest of your life. besides, you know i’ll facetime you whenever i can.”

“i know but,” you paused, not knowing what to say next. you’d had a constant battle within yourself over whether or not you should just admit your feelings for him, but you always chickened out at the last minute. you shook your head, “nevermind. you’re right, i think i’m just being too selfish with you.”

“too selfish? i don’t really think there’s such a thing when it comes to you and i. you saw me, i was equally a mess when i had to break the news to you. hysterics, really,” he imitated himself sobbing and you silently cursed him for always being able to make you laugh. 

“well, yes,” you agreed, finally turning to face him, though instantly regretting your actions the moment you opened your mouth again, “but it’s something more than that and i’m not sure how to feel.”

he cocked his head to the side in confusion, “i don’t think i’m understanding what you’re trying to get at.”

“me either,” you replied, your voice quiet, “and that’s the scary part.”

what’s worse is that most times you felt as though you could read hanbin like an open book, but tonight you really couldn't tell what was going on behind his eyes. maybe it was the reflection of the tv off of them that put your mind into overdrive. without any thought, your hand found its way to his face, gently cupping his cheek as your thumb traces various different little shapes on his skin.

"can you please just say it already? before i have to?" hanbin spoke freely, viciously tearing you from your thoughts.

“what?”

his eyes fluttered shut in response to your gentle touch, “you’re never like this. just tell me what’s on your mind. you know i will never, ever judge you.”

“hanbin, i-“ you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, which only made you panic even more, “i don't know why i didn't tell you sooner. i mean god, it's been years of deciding when the right time would be to do it, if the time were to ever come at all, and now i feel like a dumbass because tomorrow i won't even have you anymore. i’ve just realized that among all the chaos and fans throwing themselves in your direction, i realized that everything i have ever wanted  could have been you this whole time, and i hate that you leaving is what has led to this.”

you paused for a moment before starting back in with your monologue, “it’s to the point i can’t imagine my life without you, even if it’s just for the few months you’ll be away for tour. i mean, not even 5 hours go by and you’re getting a facetime call from me an-”

your erratic breathing was causing your words to run together into a giant mess of mumbling and not knowing where you were going next, but it was all cut off in an instant when hanbin leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours gently. it was beyond quick, and if you blinked you’re sure you would have missed it, but it’s all you ever needed.

“i get it,” he said after a moment of silence.

“you didn’t even let me get to my point,” you sheepishly laughed, pink taking over the expanse of your cheeks.

he smiled softly, taking this time to speak, “don’t worry, you got your point across. i’ve known for a while now, actually, but i’ve had my own doubts, just like you. i didn’t want to hurt our friendship either so i just tried my best to ignore it. figured i would rather have you as my dearest friend than not in my life at all in the event that i was reading our whole situation completely wrong.”

he paused for a moment, gauging your reaction before he began to talk again, “when you said it could have been me this whole time, that’s when i understood. you have no idea how many times i’ve thought the exact same thing.”

another silence fell between you after that, but you were both thinking the same thing. it was comfortable, as it always was beside him, but you couldn't help but feel like you were under a microscope with how hanbin’s eyes were scanning your face. a sad smile spread on your face as you closed your eyes for the nth time that night, not bearing to look at him. 

"what’s the matter?" he asked, reaching his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze softening the moment you leaned into his touch.

“saying goodbye is gonna be a lot harder now.”

“it could always be a ‘see you later until i get back’ kind of thing, if that’s what you want” hanbin offered, a smile now blooming beautifully across his face.

"of course that's what i want," you joked, "but i’m going to have to come to terms with this. you gotta get out there and show everyone what sung hanbin is made of."

"i love you," he answered. your brain wasn't given enough time to process those words before he continued nonchalantly, "i’ll be able to call you whenever the time zones allow. it’ll be like we were never apart."

“i-i really hope so,” you could feel your brain malfunctioning, “and i love you, too.”

"really?" he asked, being suddenly energized by your words. he sat up a little, supporting himself on his forearms, now leaning over you a bit with a cheeky grin, "say it again."

you couldn't help but laugh looking up at him, his eyes shining brighter than the stars with that eager expression on his face, "yes, really. i love you, hanbin. i always have."

when he kissed you this time, it wasn't like the first, or the second or the third. this time, it felt like everything you had waited for all those years was finally to its end and you had both done enough waiting. your arms reached up and found their way behind his neck, bringing him closer to you. his moved from their relaxed position beside you to your hips and the delicate touch of his fingers on your skin felt like fire, sending a wave of sparks all through your body.

he began to pepper kisses all along your jaw and neck, his fingers toying with the hem of your t-shirt, “can i…?”

“yeah,” you stuttered, shifting upwards momentarily to help him remove the fabric from your body. once your top was discarded somewhere in the mess of covers surrounding you, there was a short silence.

"you’re stunning," hanbin said, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes took in all of you.

you swatted at his chest, “oh, stop!”

you could feel your face grow warm at the next thing you managed to squeak out, “hey, i’ve never… done anything like this before.”

“i know.”

“should i be insulted?”

hanbin laughed before leaning down and hushing your babbling with his lips once again. "you know that's not what i meant. besides, would i not have been the first person you told?"

“you got me there,” you giggled, though you got a little more serious as you asked, “what about you?”

“never, you’re my first as well.”

you didn’t know why you had thought differently about him, even if his previous point was accurate to your friendship. while you were always each other’s number one, he was definitely the more social of the two of you since he was an idol and interacted with fans and his labelmates a lot, so you had just assumed he had gotten around a couple of times. but now, realizing you both were in the same boat, it made you feel a lot more comfortable. 

you took your turn grabbing the bottom of his shirt and lifting it over his head, a soft, giddy smile adorning your lips as you discarded it onto the floor beside his bed. he pecked your lips gently, slowly moving down your jaw and neck to just behind your ear, gently sucking to leave a mark only he was able to see. your back arched a bit, a quiet gasp falling from your mouth.

his hands worked to unbutton your jeans, mouth now settling on one of your nipples and sucking lightly, eliciting a moan from your lungs as he did so. you shimmied out of your pants, allowing hanbin to toss those into the pile of your clothes already on the floor with a soft thud. hanbin peppered kisses along the expanse of your chest and slowly down to the waistband of your underwear, eyes peering up at you through his lashes, “are you sure this okay?”

you nodded, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes, “positive.”

upon hearing your words of approval, he hooked his finger beneath them, gently pulling them off of your legs and exposing everything to him, a faint smile on his lips as he began to press kisses along the insides of your thighs, completely avoiding where you desperately wanted him. he hummed softly, littering a few bruises across your delicate skin before he inched closer and closer to your core, finally licking an experimental stripe up your slit. 

a gasp slipped past your lips as he did, a shudder racing down your spine at the feeling. his tongue slowly began to work on your clit, causing your eyes to flutter shut and back to arch ever so slightly off of the bed, fingers threading through his hair and tugging gently on the roots each time he sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. 

he hummed softly against you, the vibration beginning to make your legs shake, and you were so close to reaching your high you could almost taste it, but hanbin ripped himself away from you, chin glistening with your arousal as he did. you almost felt embarrassed at the whine you let out at the absence of his touch, but he quickly reassured you that you’d have all of him in just  few minutes.

you blushed, stuttering as you asked, “do you…”

“no, no, we can save that for another time, yeah? i want to make tonight about making you feel good,” his gentle smile was enough to reassure you that he was okay with you not returning the favor, but it certainly gave you something to look forward to once he returned back from tour. 

hanbin made quick work of discarding his sweatpants and boxers, his cock springing free and very obviously hard from the previous events. you couldn’t help but stare, worried about what was to come, and whether or not you would be in a severe amount of pain. he noticed as he rolled a condom down his shaft, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “we can stop here, if you want. i don’t want to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“it’s okay, i want to, really,” you replied, hoping the honesty lacing your words was enough. he nodded, positioning himself over you, one arm bearing all of his weigh and the other one lining himself up with you, tip teasing your core. 

he pressed his forehead to yours, glittering brown eyes staring deep into your own, “if it’s too much, please don’t be afraid to tell me stop.”

they say your first time should be saved for someone very special. you had never really thought about it before, the concept of it all just not ever being at the front of your mind, but being there with hanbin, you understood why it was that people believed such things.

you weren't sure if it was the way hanbin touched you as if you were made of glass, or the way he kissed your pain away as he slipped inside of you for the first time, or if it was the way he couldn't go more than a minute without reminding you that he loved you; but it made you feel that in all the time you had spent with him, nothing had ever felt as right as this. every experience, every beautiful moment you had shared together, everything felt like it was building up to this. the reciprocated love that you were sharing couldn't be compared to anything you had ever felt before.

when all was said and done, hanbin grabbed a blanket to cover your bodies instead of searching in the dim light of the tv for your clothes. his chest was warm and you loved the idea of laying against it, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

part of you expected things to feel different, and in a way they did, but this was the path that the two of you had chosen together. you believed that as long as he was beside you, you were on the right one. you believed in hanbin, and he believed in you, too.

[jainiss]

hello!

bringing an imagine with zoro from one piece, when he says he likes y/n.

Ps: forgive me if there are english mistakes. English is not my native language.

Ps2: all fictional.

Hope you guys like it ~

The Grand Line was as unpredictable as ever, but tonight it was calm, the sea mirroring a brilliant canvas of stars above. You found solace on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, leaning on the railing as the salty breeze played with your hair. The crew was below deck, celebrating yet another successful venture, but you needed a moment alone with your thoughts.

"Y/n," a deep, familiar voice called out behind you, "you're always wandering off on your own."

You turned to find Roronoa Zoro leaning against the mast, his three swords at his side. His eye met yours, the usual intensity softened by the moonlight. You'd been on this journey with the Straw Hat Pirates for a while now, and your feelings for Zoro had grown stronger with each battle and adventure.

"Zoro," you greeted him, a smile tugging at your lips, "sometimes it's nice to have a little quiet time."

He grunted in response, pushing away from the mast to stand next to you. "Yeah, I guess," he muttered, his eye scanning the starry horizon.

As you both gazed at the starlit sky, the tension in the air grew, and you felt your heart racing. Zoro's presence was both formidable and comforting, a paradox you'd come to cherish. You longed to tell him how you felt, to confess the feelings that had been growing inside you.

"Y/n," Zoro began, his voice rough but earnest, "there's something I need to say."

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to face him fully. "What is it, Zoro?"

He hesitated for a moment, his eye narrowing in thought. Then, with a hint of vulnerability, he continued, "I'm not good at this kind of stuff, but you should know... you mean a lot to me. Your strength, your spirit, it's like a guiding star. I care about you more than I can put into words."

Your heart soared, and you couldn't hide your smile. Zoro, the swordsman of few words, was opening up to you. "Zoro, I feel the same way. I've admired you since the day we met."

A rare, soft smile tugged at Zoro's lips, and he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, and it sent shivers down your spine. "I don't know how this works, but I want to be with you," he admitted.

In that moment, under the starry sky, you felt an unbreakable connection between you and Zoro. Without needing more words, you leaned in, closing the gap between your lips. His kiss was just as you'd imagined it—strong, passionate, and filled with a depth of emotion he couldn't express in words.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you beneath the stars. The promise of a future together shone as bright as the celestial bodies overhead.

Byebye ~

© jainiss ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

[gaoau]

Confession Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 2.3k

prev. — next.

Words fell useless when trying to describe the sheer panic travelling through Osamu's veins as he watched [Name] throw on her coat. After a successful grand opening, Onigiri Miya was finally closed for the day, and his friends stayed behind for a celebration of the deed. The after-party, meant for all the people who had supported him throughout his journey to achieve his dream. And [Name] was leaving.

She offered him a congratulatory grin while zipping up her jacket. He stared with his mouth agape. "I'll leave you guys to it, then. Great job with the shop again, Osamu." A genuine wave to him, an obligatory, short bow to his friends, and she was on her way out the door.

One, two, three—half a heartbeat. Osamu lunged towards her with an outstretched hand. His fingers looped around her wrist, tugging her into him before she could even turn the knob. He felt her flinch and freeze under his touch, shooting a wide-eyed, alarmed glare behind her scrunched-up shoulder. His first instinct urged him to release her immediately and she relaxed her stance. "Soz', I didn't mean ta alarm ya." He took a step back, a gentle smile crawling onto his face to express his harmlessness.

[Name] shook her head as she sighed back to her senses. "No, it's fine, it just startled me." Whether consciously or unconsciously, she cradled her wrist up to her chest, rubbing her skin to rid herself of her knee-jerk reaction. Osamu glanced at her hand, then darted his attention back to her eyes.

He simply nodded to avoid any discomfort that might have arisen if he'd pried. With a welcoming grin on his lips, he motioned towards the table where his friends eagerly awaited the start of the celebration. "Yer invited too, y'know. Yer included in my friends an' family."

"Oh." Her blinking gaze shifted towards his friends an' family, where Atsumu battled Aran to yet another arm-wrestling match he knew he couldn't win. Suna snickered behind his phone while adding one more recording of Atsumu's losses to his collection. She seemed to hesitate, but her voice resounded clearly in his ears when she replied, "Okay."

"C'mon, then."

"Yeah." [Name] pulled down her zipper as Osamu guided her with a comforting palm on her back. He slipped the coat off her shoulders without a word. She bowed towards the members at the table, settling beside Aran just in time to witness him mercilessly slam Atsumu's arm onto the wood.

Aran greeted her with a genuine smile and introduced himself with a handshake. He cued the rest of Osamu's friends to follow suit, from the cheerful Akagi to the nonchalant Suna. People from her teenage years she'd long forgotten about, simply because she'd never met them in the first place. She hadn't needed to; what could have been the odds of seeing them ever again? Still, they all welcomed her into their private celebration with open arms.

All but one. Miya Atsumu. Osamu's twin brother. Mr. Swelling Ego. The sole reason she'd been baptized as the Wicked Witch.

Atsumu reciprocated the seething rage emanating from her. They found each other's glowers, flinging daggers around with the scorching wrath of a trillion suns. [Name] glared at him wearing a scowl Osamu had seen twice—the first time when she cursed his brother with every one of her vocal chords; the second time when she confused him for his brother for half a second. Her lips curled down and her left eye twitched ever-so-slightly. Atsumu's pride only allowed him to stare her down with his sneering smirk.

Before Osamu could slice through the incrementing tension with his celebratory onigiri, Atsumu dared set off a bomb. "Wicked Witch."

The awkward silence didn't have a chance to settle in as [Name] growled back, "Swelling ego."

"Okay, you two," Osamu intercepted, slamming his palm down on his brother's shoulder. "Let it go, high-school was forever ago. Start over. [Name], this is my brother, Miya Atsumu—" he slapped his back with as much strength as he could muster, "—'Tsumu, this is my friend, [Surname] [Name]."

"She told me I had a swellin' ego." 

"Have, I bet you still do."

"This's why they called ya Wicked Witch in high-school."

"I still don't get that, sounds kinda unfair to me." She waved her hand dismissively towards Atsumu as if their uncivilized conversation had ended harmoniously. With a grin only Osamu could find charming, she turned her attention to him, repeating pieces of the past, "I insist, you definitely had that pass because you were hot."

Yet Atsumu refused to lose two battles in one night. Elbows on the table, he leaned in towards her. "Oh, so ya think I'm hot?"

Her head whipped back to him. "Were, d'ya've hearin' issues?" Deadly venom laced her tongue as her blood pressure spiked up.

"'Kay, stop. Let's all get along just tonight, c'mon." Osamu settled next to his brother, directly across from [Name]. Like he was watching over trouble-making children a snap away from spiraling out of his control and attacking one another, he sternly glared at both of them to keep them in their seats.

Suna snickered as he snapped a picture of Atsumu's pouting face. Off-handedly, he commented, "I still have the video." It took a single tap to his screen for [Name]'s snarling, teenage voice to echo through the speakers. Osamu didn't find the time to worry about [Name]'s reaction when Suna passed her the phone for her to cackle at the memory. She was included in his friends and family, and she fit right in.

Empty streets, flickering lamp posts, a quiet night. Not a single soul, nobody at all around but [Name] and Osamu, shoulders brushing every now and again. He admired from the corner of his eye the way her breath manifested into steam as she mumbled lyrics to herself. Only him and her, sharing the Milky Way stretching far above them, basking in the embrace of the moonlight. Impressive how his brain managed to romanticize the smallest of insignificant details when he found himself beside [Name].

A simple, late-night walk, from his closed shop to her apartment. It was nothing more than courtesy, a friend walking home a friend. Yet the twinkle of the stars reflected in her irises with such a brightness he'd never seen before; the silky sound of her voice tickled his eardrums so softly, so kindly; her undeniably enchanting presence right next to him tugged at his heartstrings like she strummed a guitar.

She smiled to herself suddenly, stifling a chuckle with her fist. Osamu flinched and attempted to pretend he hadn't been staring at her. She found his eyes, still giggling quietly. "I told you your brother wouldn't like me." Oh, she'd been replaying the night in her head.

"We'll work on it." He returned the amused simper on her lips, giving her arm a gentle nudge with his elbow.

She laughed to dismiss his comment. "It's fine, I don't think we'll see each other often enough to need to, you know, tolerate one another."

"I'd like it if ya got along."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

Right there, right then. No plans, no preparations. He'd fulfilled his dream to open up an onigiri shop; what was stopping him from taking his life a step further? With adoration in his gaze and the desire to keep [Name] by his side, he halted underneath a lamp post. The light carved a circle on the street, separating the two of them from the rest of the outside world. Anything past that imaginary barrier of light didn't matter at the moment.

"Can I be honest with ya?" he pushed out a strained question to expel any anxiety that could ruin his spark of bravery.

She didn't make it any easier for him—not that she should have—raising a confused brow at him. "Uh, yeah, why wouldn't you?" He'd always known [Name] never reacted accordingly to his unbelievably obvious feelings.

"Just ain't sure if this is the right thing to say."

"Okay?"

"I'm in love with ya."

He wanted to see the expression on her face, but at the same time he didn't want to see the expression on her face, and yet he needed to see the expression on her face to understand why her silence stabbed into his ears so deafeningly. He dared take a peek and regretted it almost instantly. Her lips had flattened into a thin, straight line; her brows furrowed, not in hostility, but in contemplation. The stars stopped twinkling, her sound vanished into piercing quietness, and her presence grew farther away from his side.

Her attention strayed away to the world outside their bubble, shattering the barrier Osamu had created in his mind. He watched her pupils dart back and forth as she blinked repeatedly in sheer shock. Her brain could barely keep up with this new development, it struggled to process a few simple words. But then she looked him in the eye, sharp and blunt.

"Why?"

Osamu cringed at the edge in her tone. He cleared his throat to ask, "Whaddaya mean why?"

"When?"

"What?"

"How?"

"Hold on, take it easy." He perceived panic in her frantic babbling. The warmth of his body reached out to bring her back down to her freezing reality. She shot a flickering glance at the hand he placed on her shoulder. "Since high-school," he explained, "'Twas first yer voice, then yer terrible temper. Then ya showed me the best of you. And then I just fell in love with ya as a whole." Ya charmed me almost like a spell, he wished to say. He feared the outcome of spilling more honesty.

"You befriended me because you had a crush on me." He could recognize the harmonious voice he'd fallen in love with anywhere, but the poisonous edge on her words distorted any sound he'd ever heard.

"…Sorta."

[Name] scoffed—she scoffed? Sardonic laughter flooded over her lips and dragged Osamu down a whirlpool of regret. "Well, that's kinda shitty." She glared straight into his eyes with animosity, the color in her irises clouded by anger he'd only seen directed towards his brother. "I thought you wanted to be my friend."

"Ain't the fact that I liked ya better…?"

"It's—It's not. It's worse." He struggled to gulp down the forming lump of remorse clogging his throat. His feelings drifted into the vast sky with all the adoration he harbored only for her. He'd expected a billion different responses, but not one where she looked utterly betrayed. [Name] stared into his silence, then clicked her tongue at him. "Fuck me, I guess. Have a good night, Osamu, I'll take it from here." Not a glance, not a pitiful side-eyed glower, nothing at all. She marched off on her own, heels digging into the concrete as she left behind a simmering grumble.

Osamu watched her storm away, stunned and speechless. He'd fucked up. Somehow.

"Crazy bitch," Atsumu mutters under his breath. Both his brother and now sister-in-law hear every one of those syllables.

Before Osamu can spring up from his seat and deck him, [Name] places her palm on his arm. She grins at Atsumu with a twitching eye, "'Tsumu, please shut up, I can explain."

He shrugs dismissively. "Admit it. Ya were just not in yer right mind."

"Quiet," she snarls, mimicking the edge in her tone she'd used her entire adolescence and beyond, "I'll take it from here, 'Samu."

Osamu instinctively shudders at her words. He cradles his head in his hands to force down the memory of such an unnecessarily harsh rejection. "We agreed you'd never say that again."

"I'll take it from here, darling."

Trust can shatter easily for someone who grew up angry and lonely. It comes with the upbringing; a life not chosen, yet one forced upon an innocent person. Bruises, pain, aggression, a cut on her eyebrow. She learned. An unchangeable problem required her to adapt. There wasn't much [Name] could do, other than keep her head down and work with the hand she was dealt.

An undesirable bundle of rage and violence from a young age, children steered clear of her. Transitioning onto an age of awareness, her slaps grew fewer while her demeanor only soured. She saved herself from anyone that could've harmed her; people didn't appreciate her icy attitude and explosive temper. Rumor had it she hated everyone around her. Truth explained she was only being wary before years of boiling wrath exploded.

Nobody liked her and she liked nobody.

But Gakuhou liked her. Solitude allows a perfection for talent; the more she spent time on her own, the more she sharpened her skills on various instruments. Singing, guitar, piano, flute, violin, drums, cello, bass. A little bit of everything that brought attention. Great talent, terrible temper. But Gakuhou could look past that.

When a lonely first-year joined his band, he had no better idea than to approach her with smiles and comfort. As if she was an abandoned dog, slowly but surely he earned her trust and friendship. He took her under his wing, put her talent to good use, and landed her a place as replacement for band director in case anything happened. [Name] met Atsumu and wished for death.

Then [Name] met Osamu, someone whose goal was, as he'd stated, friendship. Someone who she became friends with without needing to. Someone who actively wanted to spend his free time with her. Someone who genuinely told her she was a likeable person, she wasn't a lost cause.

Trust can shatter easily and a simmering anger can explode without prior notice. The revelation of Osamu's motives for befriending her lying deeper than he had initially admitted to her set off a bomb. What boils releases steam, so she hurried to blow some steam off before ruining their relationship. Ultimately, he was a friend, and she didn't want to lose him.

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

Tag list is open! :)

If something is not working, you weren’t on the tag list even if you wanted to, you can’t send an ask or you didn’t receive the notification about me tagging you in any of my fics, please contact me in DM’s.

Tag list: @deanwanddamons @jay-and-dean @katehuntington @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee @lady-pswrld @rvgrsbrns​ @polina-93 @teresa-67 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @mrspeacem1nusone @flamencodiva @cutiecowgirl @waywardbaby @flashxspn @lyarr24

[winterzsurprise]

Blue Innocence I || Bedrock Duo

Characters: Technoblade, Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot (mentioned), Jack Manifold (allusions to him)

Summary: Every death leaves a legacy behind and his brother was no different from them, along with his journals and music sheets, Techno took upon the task of raising his brother’s adopted child, Tommy.

Tags: Blood, description of battles, monsters, character death, fantasy setting, Big and scary dad with sunshine incarnate son trope, typical cold manwha duke of the north but Techno, a sprinkle of angst, orphaned Tommy, Found Father and Son trope, not beta read we die like eddie munson :P, probably OOC ngl.

Words: 2.5k

Yes this is me coping, I haven't posted in a while and couldn't bring myself to continue my other wattpad creation lol. This might be a series of chapters ngl.

Constructive criticism are welcomed, I want to do better with my writing, other than that, enjoy! :DD

_________

How many deaths should befall these poor but innocent souls until they’re freed from the eternal punishment that his family should be shouldering alone?

Was it a crime for his kind to defend their lands and honour? It was unreasonable he's aware of that, he knows how heinous and bloody their path has been, but didn’t the humans strike the north first? So how come the dark elves are the only one facing the wrath of the gods?

In the heaps of disfigured bodies and disconnected limbs, Techno stood in the middle of everything with his head hung low and a dark expression on his face as his grip on the handle of the sword tightened, threatening to break under his strength. 

The blizzard raged violently yet the falling whites could never cover up the crimson that stained the ground they would soon touch, the same vibrant hue that painted his skin and hair. The liquid warmed his cold skin; Techno had his skin painted with blood in his quarter of a millenia-long lifetime but never did blood feel revolting as it is now.

It's so cruel how his kind has turned into grotesque mobs that operated mindlessly, almost like reanimated corpses and to be honest, Techno would rather have them dead than thoughtless beasts continuously slain by the man supposed to protect them.

The waves of monsters outside the northern wall are unresting as they charge into the fortress. With their growing numbers that attempted to corrupt their country, anger surges in massive quantities to his veins as he watches them attack him without a single hesitation.

How can the gods be this cruel to their own creation?

“Sire?”

A pre-pubescent voice cuts through his thoughts and Techno pulls his sword from a corpse, blood escaping in rapid succession, spilling and staining the snow-covered land in crimson once more. He heard the teen gag from behind him and he couldn’t feel more bad that he was caught in a disturbing situation.

“Did the butler command you here?”

“Yes, he wishes to relay a message to you.” He paused, seemingly hesitant. The silence that followed caught his attention. 

What kind of news is there that made this child nervous to tell me?

“Spill boy, the next wave is coming soon.”

After much hesitation, the young teen finally spoke up and never had Techno regretted asking for information. “The young master, Wilbur, has passed on”

________

The rampant patters of raindrops on the broad leaves erected on the wet soil, the heavy scent of the ground permeating into the air freely, invading anyone’s nose who stood vulnerable outside felt less offending than usual. 

The earth held onto healthy green grass and flowers big and small, contrasting the withering wreath of now grey lilies and sad chrysanthemums whose petals droop from the droplets and age.

The stone of the grave standing upright in the middle of the lot contrasted its surrounding yet fits perfectly amongst the other memorials.

It was funny that even as beings cursed to immortality, Wilbur passed on so easily that he almost thought of him as an imposter. How can a dark elf perish like a dandelion to a weak passing breeze?

“He was a good man, he helped me realise my potential as a tamer rather than a necromancer.” 

Techno couldn’t find it in himself to bother listening to the human mage with the semi-bald haircut beside him, his thoughts a hurricane rampaging and destroying everything it touches as his emotions whirled in his chest, constricting around his heart and deliberately crushing it as it lingered.

How could you leave me like this Wilbur?

How can I revive the honor of the dark elves now?

Ignoring the signal the silence he received meant, the man beside him lets out a sigh. “What are you going to do with the boy?”

Upon the death of his brother, his journals filled with his written memories of his adventures with the humans and scrapped lyrics and notes, Wilbur left Techno his last trace of existence, a small boy whose kind blue eyes glimmered with hope and childish innocence that planted a seed of discomfort deep in his guts the first time it glanced up at him a year ago.

That boy, how could he hold that amount of naivety in such a small body? Is he a saint or something closely celestial?

“That is something I’d rather not discuss with a stranger, I’ll take care of the boy as I see fit.”

The man scoffed before looking up at the dark elf, eyebrows knitting as he frowned. “I’m just concerned about Tommy, he doesn’t even know his father’s dead and that he’ll be living with his uncle from now on.” 

If Techno was any better dealing with challenges, he would have asked the human for advice but being battle hardened with centuries of experience pressing onto his existence, he stayed silent. He was dubbed with the most atrocious title that frightened every species to submission, blood god that’s what they call him.

A ferocious monster in the battlefield whose sword has been driven through many bodies that if piled up, would put the highest mountain to shame. A demon-incarnate with a terrifying apathy for lives as he slayed everyone that he crosses path with, nonchalance hidden behind a bone mask barely flinching at a passing death or unfortunate events.

“I shall head on my merry way, if you ever need help, I’ll be in the magic tower, it's the least I could lend for Wilbur's sake.”

The mage’s footsteps became a blur in the background like everything else around him, Techno felt slightly relieved as the man departed, leaving him alone with his brother or rather his headstone.

Wilbur’s passing came to him as a shiver that violently wrecked his body before the ache blossomed full in his chest, thorns of roses hugging his heart tight and letting it bleed. Techno, who was in the middle of a fight, froze as the invisible string that connected his life with his twin degraded.

The fresh scar that laid across his nose bridge was the first one he had in so long and he will hold the grudge on his twin for it.

At first, Techno was filled with disbelief and questions. How could a kind cursed by the divinities to immorality die? 

From one mouth to another, he found out that the valkyries above were sent down to deliver the mighty gods' punishment and  the poor victim happened to be his own blood, the sole remaining member of his family.

Soon enough, anger quickly washed away the denial and grief that flooded and overwhelmed his consciousness. 

Wilbur died protecting the measly human kid that was never his own in the first place, a mere orphan he took from a dying friend to fulfil her last will. The man perished trying to pick out the forbidden fruit on the tree of life, the only existing one that guarantees to heal every disease and restore a body to its greatest condition.

Why would you do something so idiotic, brother? How could you throw all reasoning and fetch something us, dwellers of the earth, can never hope to hold nor linger a stare at?

Techno’s hands itched to curl and drive itself to the nearest flesh it can sense, the anger that boiled his very being to his soul rampaging deeply inside of him. 

His eyes pierced through the six feet distance between him and the remains of his brother beneath him as he ran through scenarios of digging down and screaming his questions at the empty shell Wilbur used to be, flew around his head along with many others.

“I would trade my life for Tommy, my love for him knows no bounds. If it’s to keep the light in his eyes and the thrum of his heart, everything is possible.”

It was beyond an uncharacteristic action for the man who strategized to ruin a hundred empires built after centuries of hardship from the inside in a day or two, to act rashly; charging straight into the dark in panic like a headless chicken, not a single wit in a pinkie.

Techno could only deduce why his twin did what he did and it all leads back to the boy with the eyes colored with the innocence the clear blue sky held and its brightness.

-*-*-*-*-

Sickly pale skin with limbs so thin that even after putting them all side by side would not outsize Techno’s arm, little body covered in clothes tripled his actual size with his shirt hanging down his frame like a dress, his feet hidden by the puddle of the fabric of his pants. 

How can a child claimed to be catered fully by his adoptive father appear twig-like that if a simple breeze blows, he will fall to his hind? 

This isn't the Tommy he saw a year ago in that blossoming field under the white willow tree, that one was bright and sweats liquid gold and rainbows but the child sitting in front of him barely resembled the past with his downcast gaze and frail, an inch of muscle covering his bone.

How long was he left in the hands of a neglective human that Wilbur trusted to take care of his son that Tommy was reduced to a stickman?

It's despicable and boils his blood at the sight.

If I tried holding him, he'd probably crumble in pain even at my best attempts to be gentle.

Sadness oozed out of his eyes in droplets as he sniffled, every teardrop trailing down his cheek, the saint-like light that highlighted his blues long gone with the chilly wind of the north.

It striked an enraged emotion in Techno, seeing the child's sadness drip from his eyes like a waterfall somehow makes him want to go on another rampage.

The weight of the child’s tears sharpened and pierced through Techno's conscience like daggers as he sobbed silently by the large window sill, the overwhelming height of the abstract glass making him smaller as he curled close to his legs.

Techno has seen many children in the middle of fire and chaos in all of his years spent destroying kingdoms and towns, sobbing and crying for help to those who lived to hear it; orphaned and helpless in a heap of flame but not once has he mustered the sympathy to aid them, their pleads muted in his ears, he couldn’t muster the pity to aid an orphaned child.

Not until he saw Tommy curled to himself for comfort and warmth in his cold manor.

“Will dad be coming home today?” 

His voice heavily expressed his dismay yet held a hint of hope, eyes trained on the wooden statue of a werewolf beside the window, there’s an undeserved irritation that surfaced after hearing the glimmer of positivity in his voice. 

After sustaining horrible neglect from his previously assigned caretaker and with his father's sudden departure from his life, Techno couldn’t fathom how the child could retain such an emotion alive.

“Your dad will not—” The boy looked up at him with those eyes that held the night sky’s glittering stars with hope glossing over it, rendering Techno speechless as he held the child’s stare.

Suddenly, Techno is aware of the extreme gloominess that permeates the atmosphere of his house, his senses tenfold sensitive to the child’s every sniff and sharp inhale.

Guilt pricks and poked his heart with a dagger as he continued to bask under the light of the child’s look as he questioned himself:

Is it worth telling the truth in exchange for his sadness?

“Your father will not be joining us for tonight’s dinner nor will he appear in the approaching days.” Because he’s dead. 

But Techno couldn’t say that, there was an invisible restriction shackling him from ever uttering any truth to the child who held all the hope in his blue eyes. Wilbur would be livid and stirring in his coffin if he ever sensed his child’s grief and dejected aura; there’s no doubt that he already is.

“Why isn’t he coming home?”

“He’s running away from loan sharks.”

Tommy blanched and Techno mentally facepalmed. The kid must’ve thought of a legit shark with human legs running after his father with its jaw open to show his sharp mawlers gleaming with saliva.

Of course he wouldn’t know what a loan shark is, he’s a mere child what are you saying?!

“Will papa die?!”

“No no no, what I meant is uh…” Techno trails off, for the first time in centuries, he found himself speechless. How do you explain that to a child?!

“I-Is that why papa’s not coming home?”

Techno could only stare at the kid, stunned as he scrambled for words while his mind restarted. His silence only drove the kid off of his seat and ran to him, lithe arms wrapping around his leg as blue eyes glossed over with tears.

“Please save my papa!”

“I-I don’t mean a real shark, they can’t even live without water.” Techno spluttered, surprised the kid approached him even with their almost disturbing size difference. How is he not scared?

“Then what’s following papa?”

Death himself but you don’t know that. “Some angry people but Wilbur’s stronger than most so don’t worry about him.”

A knock cuts their conversation short as his butler, Steven, steps in the room. Posture regal and firm, salt and pepper ponytail lying comfortably on his shoulder, barely hiding the burn scar that stretched from his left shoulder to his high cheekbones.

At the sight of this, Tommy scrambled to hide behind Techno's cape, almost tripping on the pooling fabric as he did so.

"I see that you've met the young master's child."

"Can you assign a maid to bathe him? Is dinner being prepared yet?"

It was faint but Techno felt a tug on his cape, peering down at the child, he found him hiding as much as he could behind the adult. The butler let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Techno raised an eyebrow at him to which the man ignored as he reached into his pockets to pull out a poorly wrapped candy, most likely a caramel ball since that's the sole delicacy they have in the north.

With the harsh winter and hostile mob tribes surrounding it, their supplies are limited.

"Hello young master, do you like sweets?"

The child didn't speak nor did he move behind the burly man. This time, Techno let out a sigh before he bent down and gingerly picked Tommy up, suppressing most of his strength as he carried him.

Just one squeeze and he'd pop like a balloon.

Unaware of how to properly carry a toddler as he hasn't done such a thing yet in his hundreds years of life, Tommy hangs from Techno's outreached arm, to his butler's disappointment.

"Sire, you're supposed to let him sit on your forearm. You'll hurt him that way."

When the man made no move to change the way he’s holding the child, his butler took initiative by taking the toddler off of his hands and into his arms, handing over the candy as soon as he settled comfortably.

Techno couldn't help but stare at the child, slightly dejected as he saw Tommy nestled and got comfortable with his butler faster than he did to him, it was betrayal at its finest and innocent form; another first one after many years.

It seems like he's gaining many firsts with the boy here.

"I shall take him to the head maid, dinner is already being prepared and I believe Baroness Weald awaits you in the drawing room."

With that, the butler bowed and turned to leave.

[cocosstories]

Bucky Barnes One Shot

hi can you make a bucky x pregnant reader where she gets kidnapped and than tortured and injected with the super soldier serum in front of bucky, you can imagine everything else, why she got kidnapped, by who, how is bucky gonna react, how is gonna end. can’t wait!

Yay so I have a request for Bucky. The reader is a medic for the avengers. Her and Bucky have been friends with benefits for more than a year now. Tony throws a party and one drink leads to another and they hooked up. Then she gets pregnant.

You had been recruited to join the Avengers after a chance encounter with Black Widow.

She had been injured pretty badly on a mission and you just happened to be near the scene and jumped into action, using your extensive medical knowledge to patch her up quickly while making sure neither of you got hit from the battle that was still happening.

When everything was said and done, Tony offered you a job as the Avengers official field medic and you jumped at the chance. 

You hit it off with the team almost immediately and soon it was like you had always been there. 

One particular Avenger you had become close to was Bucky. 

Many people had noticed the two of you shamelessly flirting and knew it was just a matter of time before thing escalated to more than friendship. 

One night you and Bucky were working out on opposite sides of the training room, both unable to keep your eyes off the other.

You caught a glimpse of the fire burning in his eyes and couldn't help yourself, you walked over and kissed him.

After the initial first kiss, he took control of the situation and this began your friends with benefits arrangement.

You had decided to keep it a secret from the team for the time being and Bucky fully agreed. 

It was a few months into your arrangement when Tony decided to throw a party after another successful mission. 

You spent most of the night with Natasha and Wanda who you had become very close with but felt Bucky's eyes on you the whole night. 

"I thought I would never get you alone, doll."

He says with slurred words as the two of you find yourself in his bedroom as the party dies down. 

"Well, here I am Sargent Barnes. What are you going to do?"

You ask, a smirk on your face.

With that, Bucky takes you to the bed and the two of you spend the night entangled together. 

Weeks later and you were on yet another mission feeling like death.

"Y/N, are you sure you're alright? You don't look so good."

Steve says, pointing out the green tint to your face coupled with the sweat on your brow.

"I'm fine. Just a bug or som-"

Before you can even finish your sentence, you lean over and vomit in the seat next to you, getting the attention of the rest of the team. 

"You are not alright. When we get back to the compound we are getting you checked out."

Natasha says, worry on her face. 

You reluctantly agree and true to her word, Nat immediately takes you to the compound infirmary once the jet lands. 

"Bucky, can we talk?"

It was a few hours later and you were finally feeling better.

You head down to Bucky's room and knock on the open door.

"Of course, doll. How are you feeling?"

He asks, getting up and walking over to you. 

"I'm alright. Dr. Cho gave me something for the nausea."

You reply with a small smile.

"Did she figure out why you were so sick?"

You nod. 

"Bucky, I'm pregnant."

His eyes go wide as he takes in your confession before a huge smile crosses his face. 

"We're having a baby?"

He asks quietly.

"Are you alright with that?"

Bucky reaches out for your hand.

"Doll, that is the best news I have ever heard."

Tears form in his eyes as he speaks and you realize that he never thought he would ever have a family again and your baby was a second chance for him.

"I love you, Y/N."

He finally admits the feeling s he had been hiding for so long, no longer having a reason to keep them to himself. 

"I love you too Bucky."

You say, matching tears form in your eyes just as he kisses you.

"I guess we have to tell everyone now, huh?"

He chuckles and you nod.

"Yeah, but I think everyone will be alright with it."

As you had expected, the team was extremely happy and excited for you and Bucky.

The weeks flew by and before you knew it, you were over halfway through your pregnancy.

You and Bucky were going strong and had even started talking about the possibility of marriage in the future. 

Life was good and you couldn't be happier. 

One day, the team was on a mission, leaving you alone in the compound.

Late afternoon and you were craving something that you could only get from the store and decide to head out for a nice walk to get it.

As you take in the scenery, everything suddenly goes black and you crumple to the ground.

You wake up hours later, strapped to a table with Hydra agents around you.

"Ah, you're awake. Good."

"What are you doing? Let me go!"

You try and fight the straps holding you down.

"Now, now, just relax. We don't want to hurt you but you are carrying a child of the Winter Soldier and that child belongs to us."

The agent lightly touches you stomach as he speaks.

"You are not going to take my baby! Bucky and the Avengers will find me and save us!"

You scream, trashing against the hold again.

Meanwhile at the compound, the team had come home to find you gone and Bucky went into immediate panic mode. 

Everyone went off in separate directions, looking for any sign as to what could have happened. 

"Mr. Stark, I found blood."

Vision calls over the coms.

"Is it hers?"

Bucky asks frantically.

"I have analyzed it and yes, it belongs to Y/N. It seems she was ambushed and taken."

The team meets back at the compound as Steve and Sam do their best to calm Bucky.

"She is hurt! What if the baby is hurt! What if they kill her? I can't lose them Steve!"

Bucky cries as everyone watches helplessly.

"Barnes, we will find her. We will bring her and your child home."

Tony says, placing a hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"It has to be Hydra. Who else would want a pregnant medic?"

Natasha says, doing her best to keep her own emotions in check.

"But why would they want her?"

Rhodey asks.

"Because she is carrying my child. The Winter Soldier's child."

Bucky replies, pure hatred in his eyes as everyone else realizes what he means. 

"Where do you think the would take her, Buck?"

"Where I was kept. Siberia."

Bucky gets up without another word and walks to the jet, the rest of the team following behind him.

The flight to Siberia was a quiet one, the whole team focused on getting to you as quickly as possible.

"Bucky, you need to keep your cool. Your only focus should be finding Y/N and getting her and your child put of there. Do you understand?"

Steve says just as the jet lands and Bucky nods. 

You are in and out of consciousness with what seems like dozens of needles going into your arm when Bucky finally finds you.

"Doll, oh god what the hell are they doing to you?"

He says as he begins carefully pulling the needles out of your arms.

"Bu-bucky?"

You breathe out, your vision blurred from the trauma. 

"Yeah, its me. I'm going to get you out of here. Just try and stay awake for me."

He says, breaking the straps holding you down and then helping you to your feet.

"Do you have her?"

Steve calls out.

"I've got her. She's barely conscious."

Bucky replies, picking you up and carrying you. 

He carefully gets you through the fighting Avengers and Hyrda agents and back to the jet. 

"What the hell did they do to her?"

Natasha asks once the team was back on the jet and you were headed home.

"I think they were trying to give her the serum. Or a version of it at least."

Bucky says.

"Trying? They didn't do it?"

"Looks like they didn't have time before we showed up."

As soon as the jet had landed, you were taken to the infirmary, every test possible performed to make sure you and the baby were both ok.

"They're alright?"

Bucky asks Dr. Cho when she comes to tell him he can see you.

"Both perfectly healthy. You saved them. You saved your family, Sargent Barnes."

She smiles and leaves him alone with you.

"Tell daddy thank you, baby girl."

You smile, taking Bucky's hand and placing it on your belly where your baby was kicking.

"Baby girl?"

He asks once he realizes what you had said.

"Yes, we are having a girl and she says thank you for saving her."

You nod, laughing a bit as the baby kicks under Bucky's hand.

"I will always do everything I possibly can to save you and protect you."

Bucky leans down and says to the baby, kissing your belly lightly before looking up to you.

"And you too."

He smiles and kisses you, so thankful to have both of his girls home and safe.

[seijohsbabe]

Mission tame

Tw: smut, degradation, nicknames, swear words,dubcon

Genre: Enemies to ,,lovers“, Mafia AU

Wordcount: 2,3k

So here you are, back in a big mission, which your boss chose for you. It is important and has high standards. But your years of experience, especially with this group, trumped everything. The group in question was called Seijoh. They were very well known in the underworld. Dangerous and a lot of influence on everything. And at the head of the group is the all too feared Oikawa Tooru. But after all these years he no longer scared you, far too often you saw how cowardly he was. Still, you never managed to overpower him. And today would probably not be the day either, because it should only be an exploration tour to check the current situation. Unnoticed and quietly you crept through the air ducts to get into the room you were heading for: The office of the great Oikawa Tooru. He's on a mission right now anyway, so you had enough time to sniff.

Your card in a pocket on which the system of the shaft is told you that you are not far from your destination. And actually, when you looked down you saw the familiar red carpet floor of the office. You gave a short radio contact to your colleagues that you had arrived. Quickly dismantled the grille you were already in the room, and it was tidy as always, and as expected nobody was in sight. Careful not to leave any traces, you rummaged through the drawers of the large wooden desk to find a few documents, but that wasn't enough for you. The big bookshelves are your next destination, but in the middle of browsing, you heard loud laughter down the hallway which came closer and closer, several voices talking to each other in amusement. Your eyes widened. You quickly passed it on to your radio contact who, however, was just as perplexed as you. They should have been on the road with Seijoh at the moment. Security guards? Whatever, you should get out of here. But just as you were about to disappear into the air ducts, you were pulled back with a jerk on your foot and thumped on the floor. Three pairs of eyes stared down at you, and you recognized those damn eyes all too well. Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa‘s most familiar and best partner. Matsukawa Issei and of course Hanamaki Takahiro Oikawa‘s other closest friends. All of them had a smug grin on their face. You tried to grab your gun on your belt but Iwazumi was faster and grabbed your hands to pin you down. His face came closer, you tried your best to wiggle yourself free but he caged you with his body.

"Look who’s here, lil y/n. Nice to see you again.“ he said while he looked in your angry face. How could that happen?” Oikawa should arrive soon, I think he will be happy to see you.“ He nodded to the two others who just watched the scene. They grabbed you and put you on a chair, grabbed all your belongings. You’ve kicked and slapped but they're just too strong.

"Wowow- I didn't think you would be that wild kitten-" Matsukawa said while he got slapped by you, but he just kept going. You gave him a bad look while he tied you to the chair. Your legs and arms were now immobile, and so you were completely at the mercy. Matsukawa took advantage of this directly, by grazing up your thigh and getting closer and closer to your center, while he smirked at your face. But before you could say anything a familiar voice interrupted you.

"Oh that’s a nice present Iwa-chan! Wow thank you. You guys planed that didn’t you?“ Oikawa came in with his graze on you and a little smile.

"Well I think Matssun, Makki, Iwa-chan, you can go now. Thank you very much.“ They’ve nodded and all went out with an knowing smirk. The whole situation, you knew this is definitly not good.

"Just kill me, Shittykawa, I don’t play your shitty games.“ you spat out, with an disgusting look on your face.

„Oh really y/n? I think you have no other chance.“, he pouted. You knew it was fake. But then he simply loosened your bonds and with a jerk, you got up to first put some distance between the two of you. "Careful as always, huh?" He said with a grin that only he could manage. One that made your hairs stand on your neck. "What do you want ? I know that you want something so finally spit it out so that I can get out of here." you literally spat out. Your discomfort is big, because no matter how long you have known Oikawa, he was unpredictable to this day. Every step he took came without warning. With big steps he came to you, but you stepped back until the hard wall hit your back. Without thinking too much you stepped aside but his arms caged you in front of him so that he could now look down at you. He was just wearing a perfectly fitting black suit. It annoyed you to came into this situation despite your caution. It made you angry. He came nearer and pinned you against the wall now.

,,So, what should I do with you now?“ he said while he grabbed your chin with his fingers to let you look up. Your looked up with an disgusting gaze. You shouldn’t let him bring you down, not yet. But your breathing gets heavier and your cheeks flushed, from all the excitement. He just looked... calm and composed, even amused. But you knew that’s his facade.

"You have no idea what i want to to with you right now.“ you’ve pushed his strong chest, but he didn’t even moved an inch. You’ve tried everything, you even spat, but that spurred him on even more.

And then his head dipped down to press his lips against your neck.

"But you will see what I wanna do.“ he mumured against your skin, lips moving against your skin, and the sigh which left your lips was anything but angry now.

In the back of your mind you know exactly how wrong that was, but his soft lips which went deeper and deeper, and worked your skin by every centimeter, silenced the little voice in your head. Your hands ran through his soft, chocolate-brown locks. He was getting faster and faster and without noticing it he took off your top. Stop, what are you doing here? As if struck by lightning, you pushed him away, this time with success because he was unable to concentrate. He stumbled back a few meters until he grinned at himself again, "Oh bunny, come on, I know you want it." With eagle eyes you watched his fingers slowly taking off his suit and shirt button by button, until you could see his perfect torso. He had scars here and there, some large, some small, many probably from his battles as the boss of a large group of the underworld. He was suddenly in front of you again, this time pressing your lips hard against his. His tongue demanded entry which you refused him at first, but when he held you on your thighs to lift you up and press you against the wall, you could not suppress a little scream. So he had given himself entrance. Your tongues fought for dominance, nobody wanted to lose. Your hands now literally clawed his hair, which made him moan. When you had to stop to take a breath, you murmured against his lips. "Just fuck me already you bastard." His grin grew. You knew it was the wrong step, you gave him exactly the thing he wanted, and he always got what he wanted. But you couldn't suppress that demand, regardless of whether it was an enemy or a friend, as long as it helps you, you should be fine. "Oh dear, I won't have to be told twice." He carried you to his desk to let you fall on it. The things that were on there were pushed down. Faster than you could see, your pants were on the floor like your underwear. He got down on his knees while looking into your face. His face now at eye level with your center, he looked up at you again. But you just rolled your eyes, pressed your legs around his head to bring him closer. Your hands supported you behind you, but you didn't know how long, because feeling his tongue between your slit made you tremble. His tongue got faster and faster and you came closer and closer to the climax. ,, I-I‘m .. “

"What it is? Use your words bunny." He said against your cunt. "Keep going you asshole, I'm c-ah" you couldn't even finish the sentence when his lips sucked on your clitoris. Your climax came hard and fast. Your moans would be heard 5 rooms away, but this climax was just as good as riding a wave.

You just hated him even more because no one had ever gotten such an orgasm out of you. Even now after that, your legs were shaking and everything was tingling. Oikawa's chin full of your arousal, got up on his legs again, and slowly and with relish took off his pants, but you can’t wait, so you fell over him to clap his hands away, which he put without comment in the air, as you opened his buttons with trembling hands. You tugged the pants and boxers with ease down and his cock just sprung out. It wasn’t that big, but a nice shape.

You sank to the ground without comment, which of course he had to comment again. "You probably already know what to do y/n, you see it isn't that bad, isn't it?" But his grin didn't last long, because in one go you took his cock up to the stop in your mouth. This finally wipes his dirty grin off his mouth, replacing it with a groan. Music for your ears to finally have him in your clutches. Your hands played with his balls as your rhythm got faster and faster. His moans, the knees trembling, his eyes closed and head tucked back while his hands gently entangled in your hair, made you humming around his cock. You felt how near he must be, but his hand in your hair pulled you back.

Now you were the one who smiled in his face. ,,Well well Oikawa, king of the underground, so easy to get you a trembling mess huh?“ Oh, how miserable he looked, his gaze was down on your figure, and his breathe was fast. The sweat rolled down from his forehead. "Don’t celebrate so early darling.“

Without predicting it, he pulled you up and slammed you repeatedly on his table to bring his face very close to your ear. His hot breath brushed your ear and made you shiver. "My lil bunny, you just screamed the whole building together, at least I could pull myself together, let's see how long you can hold out this time." And with that, he sank into you in one go while he bit your earlobe. Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open, but no sound came out, too overwhelmed by the feeling of being suddenly filled was too much for your senses. His length hit exactly that one point that makes you roll your eyes every time. Having overcome the shock, you now looked him in the eye. He stared at you, practically studying your face, but he didn't move. "Just move god damn." You said with an impatient tone. And with a jerk, your back landed on the desk, and his hips moved with a steady and rapid speed. You had the feeling he was getting faster and faster, while you were looking for something to hold on to and found his back. Your hands dug into his back, sure to leave marks. He groaned but kept his pace. The clap of your skin on each other echoed through the whole room. You couldn't take it much longer, because it kept banging against your point. Loud animalistic moans escaped you as you got closer. These were quickly caught when his mouth pressed against yours again and practically sucked you out. Your hands brushed up his back to bury themselves in his hair again. He let go from your mouth to let out small moans between his thrusts. "Your m-mine y/n" His pace was getting sloppier, he was getting close. "You wish bastard." And with that, his final snap he sends you over the edge. You only saw stars, heile your walls clamped around him, sucked him in. Your whole body trembled as he painted your insides white. The body parts from you now hung lazily next to you while he was still inside you, looking down at you, and his upper body paced up and down quickly. Its length slowly slid out and let you whimper briefly through the sudden emptiness. Your wobbly arms tried to lift you up but your lack of strength did not allow it. So you stayed there until his hand pried you open from behind. Without a word, he handed you his black shirt. With a raised eyebrow you took it from him to put it on. Slowly your strength came back to slowly get up and look for your underwear, which you quickly found and put on.

"Well it wasn't that bad, but I guess I have to-" When you were about to turn around, he stood in front of you and pressed you into the wall, your hands got pressed together over your head with one hand from him. His pants were already on again. "When I said you were mine, I meant it" and with that, the door opened and Iwaizumi came in. "Bring her to the guest room, make sure she has it comfy. He just nodded, took you, hands behind your back with, down the aisle, while he grabbed your ass, still on display under the light shirt of Oikawa.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

FOREVER

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x FEM!READER

Words: 2.331

Warnings: fluff, hurt-comfort

"Having a new girlfriend there?", Libertus teased what earned him a slap against his arm from Crowe.

"No, guys. That's Yn. She's ... She arrived here in Insomnia yesterday.", Yamachang introduced the small woman next to his side, "Please, be nice to her."

Yn felt nervous as the group of friends stared at her. Five pairs of eyes were looking expectant as if she had to tell a big story about herself. Just one pair of eyes was different. The eyes of the guy with the name Nyx made her speechless. It was their intensity that caught her attention. The handsomeness of the man kept her in his unspoken spell.

"Where do you come from, Yn?", Crowe asked softly as she saw how nervous the young woman seemed to be in front of a bunch of strangers.

Yn smiled softly, thankful to get distracted, "Galahd. I'm from Galahd."

***

It didn't need much time til Yn was a big part of the group of friends. Pelna, Libertus, Crowe and Luche included her immediately. Making her feel welcomed. Nyx did the same with the difference that, within a very short time, Yn was far more for him than just a friend. She was home.

Whenever he saw her, Nyx' heart made a little jump because, in a bitter-sweet, beautiful way, she reminded him of what he had lost. It was as if she had taken everything from the island to store it inside of her. Piece by piece, she released parts of it. Her voice was like the wind in the trees. Her laugh was like the singing of the birds. Her smile was as bright as the endless sky. And her eyes were sparkling like the open sea on a fresh summer day.

Every day, after his shift with the Glaives, Nyx was eager to go to Yamachang's with the hope to meet Yn again. Just to be in her presence gave him comfort because her character was so light and easy to have around. And that was everything Nyx allowed to himself: to have her around him with the others because he was far away from being the right man for her.

Every evening, when the Glaives came, Yn looked out for Nyx and smiled shyly at him when he passed her. But one evening was different. The others were already there but Nyx was nowhere to be seen.

"Nyx comes a bit later.", Crowe said low, stepping next to Yn as she saw her searching glance, "He... He works at the gate watch at the moment."

"Oh, why?", Yn asked, frowning why he did this unusual job. Every refugee learnt quickly how the gate watch was thinking of outsiders.

"Well... as punishment. During our last fight at the wall, he ignored our Captain's orders. If he wouldn't have done that, some of us would be dead now.", Crowe explained before she went back to Pelna to ask him something.

Yn dwelled on what Crowe had told her and as Nyx showed up finally, her heart made a jump as her eyes landed on the hero.

"Nyx the gatekeeper. Tell me, how's the new post treat you.", Pelna asked even if he knew the answer already.

"The gate watch are real sweethearts. You would love it.", Nyx said sarcastically and brought Yn back to reality from her day dreaming.

"Yeah, everyone knows that they hate us outsiders.", Pelna said and thanked Yn with a smile as she gave him a new drink.

Yn turned over to Nyx and looked at him. She smiled beautifully as their eyes met. And he smiled back softly like always, taking the drink from her she offered him. But he did nothing more. It wouldn't be fair to drag her into his chaotic life. No matter how much he wanted someone next to him. To have someone just for himself. Who would care for him more than just as a friend. Someone who would be there for him. But he couldn't demand from Yn to live a life of pain and uncertainty just so he wouldn't be lonely. Even when she represented everything he was searching for.

***

Then, one evening, a few days later, Yn waited til the night that Nyx would show up at Yamachang's but he stayed away. Pelna told her not to worry too much. Nyx was still working at the gate and maybe he had a rough day. But Yn worried because she liked the greyish haired Glaive so much. So, she asked Yamachang for a bunch of meat skewers, wrapped them and as the friends were gone, she made her way through the underground to reach his place.

It wasn't far away but with each step, Yn noticed how her hands became sweaty and she became nervous. It was the first time to visit him and as she knocked, Yn already considered what she was doing but then, there was no turning back as she heard footsteps behind the door.

As Nyx opened the door, he expected Libertus or Crowe. But the last he expected were the bright eyes and wide smile he loved to see so much, "Yn? What are you doing here?", Nyx asked surprised.

Yn, who was always a bit nervous around Nyx, gnawed on her lower lip, "Y-you weren't at Yamachang's tonight.", she said low, casting her eyes to the ground.

Nyx scratched the back of his neck. To stay away had been a hard decision but he noticed how he started to fall for the young woman, so he wanted to keep some distance from her, "Yeah... I... I wasn't in the best mood. I just wanted to be alone.", he lied and felt bad as he saw that she believed him.

Yn's eyes grew a bit bigger as she realized that she had done the wrong thing, "Oh... Oh... Uhm... I- I'm ... Okay, then I will leave you alone again. Sorry for bothering you.", she stammered and noticed her cheeks turning pink. Understanding that the idea had been stupid after all, Yn turned over to leave.

Nyx knew he should let her go, it would be the easiest way, but as he saw her sad, disappointed expression, he couldn't watch her walk away like this, "No! Please, wait. You're not bothering me. I was just surprised... I have just don't expect you here.", he said with a soft smile as he saw her stopping.

Yn looked down at the small package in her hand, "Yeah, about that... I brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry.", she said and looked carefully at him.

Nyx was taken aback about the fact that she cared so much about him, "That's so nice from you.", he said and watched amazed how a beautiful smile spread on her lips and before Nyx could stop himself he spoke again, bubbling out the question he had in mind, "You... Do you wanna come in?"

Yn was surprised about his invitation but she agreed. Happily, she watched how Nyx seemed to devour the food in one go as if he hadn't eaten in years. Nyx had placed Yn into his comfortable arm chair, the only neat place he could find for her before he sat on his bed to eat.

While letting him eat, Yn looked through the room. Her eyes landed on the pictures of his family and felt sadness for his loss. She knew how he felt, being in the same position as him as she had come to Insomnia. She also had lost her family, her home and was alone. Yn was thankful for Yamachang and that he had introduced her to his friends. But as she watched Nyx, the feeling of being more than just friends with him increased even more.

So, as it became late and she was about to leave Nyx' place to go home, Yn took all her courage to try her luck, "Nyx, I... I- I like you.", she said softly, stopping at the door where Nyx wanted to say goodnight.

"I like you, too.", Nyx said casually, not thinking about what she really meant.

Once again, Yn became nervous as she looked up at him, "N-no, I-I- I mean I like you.", she said more meaningfully.

"But, I.... Oh...", Nyx breathed as he realized. She had said what he wanted to hear and yet, it was the last thing he should hear from her considering the fact that he didn't see himself as worthy of her.

"Yeah...", Yn said low and looked away from his intense glance.

There were the things Nyx wanted to say desperately and then, there were the things he should say, "Yn...", he sighed, annoyed more about himself, "You shouldn't like me that way.", he said low.

Yn looked up, "Why not?", she asked impulsively before she realized what Nyx meant, "Oh, I see... You don't feel the same. I... Uhm... Okay.", she said crestfallen and just wanted to leave, getting away from Nyx and his handsome face.

As Nyx saw her like this, his heart dropped and even if it would be the best to let her go, he couldn't do it like this, "Yn, wait. It's not because of you.", he said softly.

"Sure. What a cliché.", Yn said low, not looking at him.

Nyx took a breath, "No, just wait. Yn, you're wonderful, beautiful, lovely... you're gorgeous but ... I'm a Glaive. This life is nothing you would deserve. Not after everything you went through. Nothing would be certain with me. You would fear for my life whenever I wear this uniform. You would have sleepless nights because you don't know if I'm still alive or not during a battle. We would fight often because you ask me to quit the job and I would say no. I would feel bad for making you sad because I couldn't change it. And even if no one else sees it, I'm broken. I have nightmares and flashbacks at random times. Why would you want to deal with a guy like me?"

"Because I think you're worth it.", Yn said, seeing that her words hit the man in front of her.

Insecurity was written in Nyx' eyes but there was also hope. Hope that she really meant what she just said.

Yn stepped forward by the sight of his emotion-filled eyes, "I can't heal your wounds and I can't stop your nightmares but I can comfort you. I can be there for you when you need someone to cling to. I could be there for you when you need someone to bring you back from your flashbacks. Of course, I would worry for you when you're out there because I want you to come back into my arms. I would try to get you away from the Glaives even if I know I would never be successful. And that's okay. That's how you are. But I wouldn't stop trying. I wouldn't stop fighting. You know why I would do all this? Because I don't see any flaws in you. For me, you're the nicest, most handsome and most perfect guy I have ever seen. Your eyes are the bluest and wildest, matching the deepest ocean. When you talk, I could listen to you for hours. Your lips are the ones I'm craving for to taste, at least just once. I would admire every single scar on your body because they're the signs of your endless strength, devotion and determination. You might not see yourself as perfect. But you don't have to. Because I see you like this.", she stopped her speech with a pounding heart. While still looking into his eyes, she gnawed on her lower lip before she added, "Let me love you, Nyx. You don't have to be alone. Let me in your life and I promise I will try to make it easier for you.", she whispered and waited for his reaction. She had said everything on her mind. Everything she always thought when she saw him. Now, it was his turn to react.

A single tear slipped from Nyx' eyes and rolled along his cheek. Yn raised her hand slowly to brush it away with her thumb. Just this small touch kindled a roaring fire inside of him. Still overwhelmed that someone thought about him like this, he stepped forward, cupping her face softly in fear she could break under his hands before he connected their lips for a desperate kiss.

Yn's fingers found their way into his shirt to get hold as Nyx' reaction took her by surprise. The hero kissed her with such a force that her breath hitched in her throat but she didn't even care. The only thing she wanted was to have the man even closer. Slowly, she stroked from his chest down to his hips and over them to his back to slip her hands underneath the fabric of his shirt to feel his skin.

As Nyx felt Yn's nails digging softly into his skin, he backed away for some air. Panting, he leant his forehead against hers with closed eyes while his heart was racing in his chest, "Can you stay? Forever?", he whispered shakily.

"Actually, my plan was to bring you food so you wouldn't be starving but yeah, I think I can manage to stay forever as well.", she whispered and was happy to hear a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"I was already starving and then you came along, making me happy just with your being.", Nyx whispered, looking her into the eyes, "And now, you turn into the reason why I always want to come back home. Obviously, now, I have to be a bit more cautious.", he whispered before he embraced her, burying his nose into the crook of Yn's neck to inhale her scent and to bring her even closer.

Bursting with joy, Yn flung her arms around the hero's chest, snuggling against him with the promise to never let him go.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Two Bros Chilling in A Hot Tub/Lightning Struck

Summary: Freed knew he had a lot to learn about being a professional wizard, and when he was paired up with Laxus for a mission he expected to learn a lot. He didn't expect to spend a day with him in a hot tub, and he certainly didn't expect to get an entirely unrelated education about life and about love.

Notes: Hi everyone. Fraxus Week is at an end, and I really enjoyed writing everything this year. The AU's were a lot of fun and canon writing it always enjoyable, I hope you liked what I've written, and make sure to look at @fuckyeahfraxus to see everyone else has made.

Links: Chapter One ||| Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Chapter Two

Laxus was many things, but patient wasn't one of them. Honestly, it was miraculous he'd lasted a week before it had come to this.

He stormed into the apartment building that Freed lived in, walked to the address Makarov had given him, and slammed his hand against it three times; loudly. He was bouncing from foot to foot slightly, hearing the shifting of movements from behind the door as Freed walked towards it. He was taking his time, and Laxus felt the urge to slam his hand on the door again a few times to make him hurry the hell up.

For a week, Laxus had wanted to do this. He'd stopped himself for seven long, long days, but it was getting too much. Laxus couldn't go to sleep another night knowing that Freed was living twenty minutes away. That if the rune mage stopped with this shit, they could be repeating that kiss.

That fucking kiss!

He'd never been kissed like that. He doubted that anyone had been kissed like that. It had been so… so… The words couldn't come to Lauxs. It was all encompassing. Overwhelming. It was like standing in the centre of a thunder storm, letting the lightning burn across his skin and explode in his throat as he consumed it. Freed had been against him, attached to him, but battling him in a way Laxus couldn't understand.

Realistically, he knew it was for the mission, but he couldn't help but think there was more to the kiss. He'd caught a few of Freed's glances at his body – how Freed hadn't noticed Laxus doing the same thing was miraculous – and the reactions throughout the day seemed to suggest Freed had been just as affected as Laxus had.

But then the rune mage had just shut off. Any semblance of relaxation was gone the moment they pulled apart, and all Freed seemed capable of thinking of and speaking about was their mission. He spent the next hour avoiding Laxus, stating that they'd spent enough time together for plausibility and that it would be better to spread out. Laxus had agreed because he wasn't going to push things if Freed wanted to focus on his work then he could understand it, but for the rest of the afternoon he'd found his gaze drifting to him whenever his mind wandered. The press of the man's lips against his was like a haunting: inescapable and unforgettable. Laxus had wanted to storm over to the man, kiss him properly and say 'to hell' with the mission.

He'd never felt like this before. It was exhilarating.

But when the mission had ended, and Freed fell back on his habit of taking missions and spending no time in the guildhall, Laxus realised that Freed was avoiding him. Laxus was damn insulted by that.

Freed was into him, Laxus knew that, and he hoped that the passion with which he'd kissed Freed and the many times he'd lost focus because he was checking Freed out was enough for Freed to know the attraction was reciprocated. Freed didn't, for a second, seem to be a coward. Not about fighting and not about his own feelings, so why the hell was he avoiding Laxus? It took Laxus a full week of thinking over the situation for him to realise what was actually happening.

Laxus was an old hand at wizardry, and knew how to have a life outside of work. Freed didn't. Hell: when Laxus had reported the mission's success to Makarov, he'd asked the old man why he'd chosen Freed to spy on him, and he'd been told Freed needed to balance his work and life better, and Laxus was meant to help him.

So, as he stood at Freed's door, Laxus was going to do that.

The door opened, and Freed was revealed. He was wearing nothing but his white shirt, unbuttoned and sightly ruffled, and the trousers he'd worn during work. For a moment, Laxus allowed himself to relish in the sight off the man in a rumpled and domestic state, with his hair tied up high and his eyes still sleep worn because of the early morning. He shook his focus and met Freed's eyes.

"Laxus," Freed said with a frown. "What are you doing here?"

"Bored of this whole avoiding me shit," Laxus grunted, placing a hand on the wall to lean against it. "Pack a bag, we're going on a mission for the weekend."

"Excuse me?" Freed said, almost laughing. Laxus understood that – coming to the man's house unannounced and demanding his presence for a weekend was pretty arrogant – but he wasn't going to let that be an excuse. "What makes you think I'll do that simply because you tell me?"

"Because I haven't finished the paper work from that spa mission, and since I was meant to teach ya how to be a mage during the mission and it's not over, I have authority over you," Laxus grinned, knowing that Freed was not going to take that level of bullshit. He smirked when Freed went to argue back, and cut in before he could. "Besides, if you don't come with me, I won't be going on any missions with you, and all that S-Class money goes away. Wouldn't want that, huh?"

It was a dick move, but a means to an end. Freed glared at him, and that was all the agreement Laxus needed.

"Train station at nine AM," He informed Freed, turning, and walking down the hall. He spoke without looking back. "See ya there."

---

The train juddered to a stop, and Laxus felt his stomach settle almost instantly. He closes his eyes, swallowed down the small rising of bile that crept up his throat, and ignored the amused expression that Freed was looking at him with.

"Feeling a little sick, Laxus?" He taunted gently, and Laxus faux glared.

"Peachy," He grumbled.

Any lingering annoyance from earlier in the morning had gone when Freed had reached the train station. Laxus had brought him a coffee, bagel, and pastry as a peace offering. He'd been forceful about getting Freed to leave with him - he felt like it was necessary to kick Freed into action - but he couldn't have Freed pissed at him. If Laxus was right, and played his cards well, he might end up with Freed before the weekend was over. He wanted to do it properly.

"You look it," Freed taunted, taking his bag from the overhead rack and handing Laxus his rucksack. "May I know what the mission is now?"

"Not yet," Laxus dismissed the request.

They climbed off the train, and Laxus was thankful to be on solid ground again. The town they'd arrived in was a small one, tucked away high in the mountains; something that had not helped Laxus' motion sickness. He'd looked the town up on one of the guild's many maps before leaving, so knew exactly where to go and started following the roads without hesitation. Freed kept in step with him, clearly waiting for Laxus to offer some explanation.

He wouldn't get it. Laxus had spoken with Makarov about Freed once the mission had finished. The main thing he'd learned was that Freed needed to sort his shit out, because he was damn near hitting his limit. He also seemed like the kind of guy to refuse help, so Laxus was going to make sure he couldn't.

Once they got to the hotel, Laxus would confess. Until then, they were on a 'mission'.

"Could you at least tell me the type of mission?" Freed pushed the matter because the smartass needed to know everything. It was kinda funny seeing him getting pissy about it. "Eradication, interrogation, reconnaissance or escort?"

"You actually use those terms?" Laxus quirked an eyebrow as he chuckled, and subsequently walked into a wall of runes. He stumbled back, and rubbed his nose as he mumbled "You quick castes that? Damn."

"Why are we here Laxus," Freed insisted

"Who trained you how to cast, because that was impressive," Laxus ignored the question, walking forward when the wall dissipated. "You're gonna be a damn powerhouse in a few years."

"Answer the-" Freed cut himself off. "What do you mean 'going to be'?"

"You think you're powerful now?" Laxus taunted.

"I know that I am," Freed narrowed his eyes for a moment, before laughing at himself. "You're rather good at distracting people, aren't you? Perhaps you're smarter than I thought you'd be."

"You thought I'd be dumb?" Laxus asked.

"Yes," Freed said unflinchingly, and Laxus barked out a laugh.

"You should spend more time with the rest of the people in the guild," He smiled. "You're as much an asshole as the rest of 'em."

"How flattering," Freed said, voice droll. "You still haven't answered my question though. Why are we here?"

Laxus could see the hotel, and decided that it would be best to not push his luck with Freed. He thought about how he'd say it, and decided that he might as well jump into it rather than pissing around and avoiding the issue. Hell, if he couldn't be honest he'd be a damn hypocrite.

"I lied about the mission," He admitted, and Freed frowned. "We're here for a weekend break."

"A what?" Freed asked as if the concept was foreign to him. Given how much he worked, it might be.

"A weekend break. The place we did the mission for has a branch out here, and as a thank you for our work they gave up some coupons that we can use here," Laxus explained, reaching into his coat pocket, and pulling out the two tickets, handing one to Freed. "You clearly need a break from the work before you get sloppy on a mission and it ends up getting you hurt, and I'm not gonna turn down a free weekend in a luxury resort."

"And why didn't you tell me this from the beginning?" Freed demanded, clearly irritated.

"Because you wouldn't have come if you didn't think you'd make any money from it," Laxus shrugged as they walked into the lobby of the reception. "Like I said this morning, until the paper work's done, I'm meant to be teachin' you how to be a mage. Biggest obstacle for that right now is you not treating yourself right. Until you do it on your own, I'm gonna force you to do it."

They were at the front desk, and Laxus was speaking with the receptionist, before Freed could get a word in. Laxus made sure to confirm that both rooms would be required, and the receptionist assured him that their cleaning staff would have them prepared as quickly as they could, telling them both that they had access to all the amenities and facilities the resort had to offer in the meantime. Laxus thanked him, signed the book to confirm his booking, and stepped back to look at Freed. Again, he spoke before Freed had the chance.

"You don't need to live mission to mission anymore," His voice was softer now. "If you don't give yourself a break, you burn out. I'm sorry I lied, I'll make it up to you somehow, but enjoy this place while you're here. You put in a lot of effort since you joined the guild, treat this as your reward."

Freed looked like he wanted to argue, but halted. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "I would enjoy a break."

"I know," Laxus said bluntly, placing a hand on Freed's shoulder. "And when you're ready, we're gonna talk about what happened on the mission. Because I don't wanna forget it ever happened, or push past it, or do whatever it is you thought could happen when you were ignoring me."

"I wasn't-" Freed began, but Laxus stopped him.

"We'll talk later," He said softly, before grinning. "I'm gonna take a swim. You can come with me if you wanna ogle me again, but I think a massage would do you good. You look really tired, basically dead to the world."

Laxus was walking away with a grin before Freed could respond to the teasing, and when he came face to face with another runic wall, he simply laughed. His stomach did a little flip when he heard Freed laughing too.

---

"I'm ready to talk now," Freed said, and Laxus nodded.

It was the evening now, and the two men had spent the day in different parts of the resort. Sometimes apart, sometimes together, Laxus had underwent almost all of the treatments available, as well as spending a good few hours in the pool, sauna, and hot springs. He'd retreated to his room when the relaxation had brought on a bout of tiredness, and had been napping until Freed's knocking on the door woke him. He'd adorned a robe and answered it, feeling weirdly excited when he'd seen it was Freed.

He looked good. Obviously, he had made use of the facilities, as he looked well rested, without the stress marks that bordered his eyes, and was holding himself looser. His hair was damp and tied up high, perhaps from a recent shower, and Laxus again revelled in the sight of a domestic version of Freed Justine.

"Take a seat," Laxus said, motioning to the chair as he sat on the foot of the bed.

"Thank you," Freed said, voice relaxed and without fear. Good. "When you said we needed to talk, I assume you meant about the kiss."

"I did," Laxus agreed. "But before you start, I wanna say something. Give you a piece of advice about being a mage that it takes a lot of time for most people to get," Freed thought for a moment, but made a gesture for Laxus to continue. "When you become a mage, you give up your safety, your stability, and your time. Sometimes you don't know when you'll next be paid, and sometimes you don't know if you'll make it out of a mission alive. When you get into wizardry you have to change how you live, act fast and do what your gut's telling you. Your instincts aren't just important in the mission, they're important in your personal life too. Sometimes you just have to follow them."

"And this relates to the kiss how?"

"If you don't want to be with me, then go with that. Don't worry about offending me, or pissing me off, or me stopping the missions together, or anything. If that kiss was just for the missions, and I've misread things, then don't fuck around being polite. Rip the band aid off and tell me straight."

"And if you didn't misread things?"

Laxus grinned, leaning back slightly. "Then follow your instincts."

Freed did just that, by standing up, tipping Laxus chin upwards, and bringing him into another earth shatteringly perfect kiss. And this time, there was no doubt. The kiss was for him, and there would be many others.

---

Ten Years Later

Laxus groaned as he submerged himself into the bubbling warm water. It was late at night in the early spring, and the hot tub he submerged his body into was in beautifully warm contrast with the cold evening air around him. The feeling of half-healed injuries and tense muscles seemed to weep for the hot water, and he closed his eyes in relaxation.

He needed this. He'd needed it for weeks, and now it was finally happening.

Obviously, taking over as guild-master would lead to an adjustment in his life, and teething troubles had occurred. There were more responsibilities than he had expected, everything from paperwork to ensure the building was fixed every time one of the brats damaged it, to arguing with the local councilmembers about how the good that Fairy Tail did greatly outweighed the bad. Honestly, trying to explain that an idiotic fire mage had literally saved their lives multiple times and therefore had earned the right to blow up the occasional fountain or set fire to a random ornamental tree was not a fun task to take.

Admittedly, he didn't make life easier for himself. He insisted on taking at least one mission a week, something that almost everyone in the guild deemed to be idiotic. But he was only thirties, he was an incredibly strong mage, and couldn't simply just hang up his profession because he was in charge of the guild.

"You're back then?" Freed asked amusedly from the patio.

"Yeah," Laxus nodded, opening his eyes, and smiling at his husband. "Wanna join me?"

"Sure," Freed nodded, and made work on removing his clothes.

The hot tub was something they'd brought three years prior, two years after they'd brought their marital home. After the odd inclusion of spas at the start of their relationships, they'd become reliant on their facilities after a hard mission to relax and untense their bodies. When they'd moved, the distance from their house to the nearest spa had been too long, so they'd invested in a hot tub of their own and learned how to massage one another. The latter advancement in the relationship had been a fun, fun few weeks for them both.

Laxus grinned a little as he saw Freed remove his underwear, and he raised an eyebrow at the man. Freed noticed, laughed a little and playfully kicked the man's thigh as he climbed into the tub, sitting beside him. Laxus raised his arm slightly to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him close.

"The mission went well, I assume?" Freed asked, idly playing with the surface of the water.

Laxus halted, before looking down at Freed and speaking slowly. "Was fine, no problems."

"No problems at all?" Freed probed.

"Not one."

"You are aware that you are my husband and Bickslow is one of my best friends," Freed continued playing with the water, voice equally annoyed and amused. It was a tone only Freed could manage. "And if my husband collapses in the middle of a fight due to exhaustion, my best friend is going to tell me."

"Fucking traitor," He muttered, before sighing and looking to Freed. "I'm fine. I'm back here, so no problem."

"Laxus, you passed out because you're overworking yourself," Freed chastised, placing a hand on Laxus' thigh and stroking it softly. "You can't keep doing this to yourself."

Laxus knew he couldn't, of course, but it wasn't that easy. "I know," He admitted, sighing. "But I just can't give up working as a mage, not yet. I always thought it'd be what I do, y'know. I thought I'd always be the guy who goes to a town, fixed their problems, burns through my magic, and that's all. And I knew that eventually it was gonna end, but, well, I've been a mage for twelve years. It went by too fucking quickly and it feels…" He thought for a moment. "Being a mage is all I have, and I don't wanna let myself slip if I ever need to fall back on it."

"I do understand that, Laxus," Freed sighed. "But as you are now, you're losing you're edge not because you've dropped the sword, but you've used it so much that it's starting to shatter."

"I get that," Laxus whispered, nodding. Freed hand clasped on his thigh and patted him. "I'll stop going on 'em, it's time. I know that."

"You don't need to stop altogether, I've no doubt your grandfather didn't when he was young," Freed smiled, resting his head on Laxus' shoulder. "Perhaps you take it down to one mission a month, maybe not always go on S-Class missions. Only allow yourself to take what you can handle with your new responsibilities, not what you were able to do ten years ago."

"You're right," Laxus nodded, pulling Freed closer and kissing him on the top of his head. "When d'you get so smart about this shit?"

"I had a good teacher," Freed chuckled.

It was almost ironic. Almost exactly ten years to the day, here they both were again. Sat together in a hot tub, side by side, one of them struggling with the responsibilities of their new life while the other tried to advise them on how to deal with it. Laxus could almost laugh at the cyclical nature of it, but was distracted when Freed's roaming hand slid up his stomach and his husband moved closer to him.

"You know," Freed began, voice a little naughty now. "If you ever need to burn off some energy, I could teach you a few techniques that have proven useful in the past."

"Oh really?" Laxus quirked a brow, hand roaming down Freed's back, stroking his spine.

"Indeed," Freed nodded. "I'm sure you'll become quite the addict though."

"I can risk that," Laxus smirked.

And when Freed shifted so he was straddling Laxus, the blonde grinned. He leant up and pulled Freed into a passionate, explosive, lightning-filled kiss. A kiss he would indulge in anytime, anyplace.

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Teenage Dirtbag

(Cormac x Jeanie)

Warnings: fluff and smut

A/N: Cormac feels bittersweet about his abnormal teenage years, but a tryst at the abandoned O'Keefe's College with Jeanie changes his mind about what never was.

The last of my birthday weekend self-indulgent drabbles. I dug deep and pulled Cormac back to the front of the closet to wear just for today.

Jeanie inhaled the scent of moss and rain that filled the air around the abandoned boarding school. If it weren't for Cormac, Hannah and Brett this was surely how her own building would end up in a few years. She didn't mind the dynamic it created between her and her boyfriend, or that the purchase was for some ulterior scientific motive. She got to keep the kids and her job, and he got to maintain one of the last untapped portals.

Now they were in Galway where everything started. Or, as Jeanie pointed out once she knew the stories, Cormac’s friends gaslit him for an entire semester.

“That's how comic book villains are born,” she watched as he turned on the power grid and fumbled around with his necklace.

“I suppose,” his catch phrase, “But even Tony Stark created a murder robot. He scrunched his nose and scratched his head in the most adorable way. Then something clicked.

“Tony Stark is a murder robot.”

A calming female voice responded before Cormac had the chance. “Tony Stark is more closely related to a cyborg than a robot. Good morning, Cormac. Jeanie.”

“See how she uses disdain when she speaks to me?! Jarvis doesn't speak like that.”

“Silvia doesn't have disdain for you. She's a computer program.”

Jeanie and Silvia spoke collectively, “I'm an artificial intelligence system.” The schoolteacher pointed at nothing as if to say even they can agree on her being beyond just a program.

“I'm also not female or male, I am a sexless non-binary system. You decided to gender me when you were fourteen years old based on the voice modulation you placed inside of me. I have no body or sexual organs.”

“You just got out Cormac’d!” Jeanie teased as his cheeks grew rosy.

“Come on, I'll show you around.”

----

The next few hours were like visiting a museum of Cormac’s memories. He admitted that he had the ability to go to university much earlier than most anticipated, but he hung around because he actually enjoyed the small group of friends he accumulated his years at O’Keefe’s. Even if his relationship with Martin, the resident Draco Malfoy, was contentious. Even if they were understaffed, underfunded and simply unable to accommodate any real science program. He felt a sense of duty to the school that kept him safe when his Nan could not.

“I could have gone with my mum’s side in Dublin if I wanted. My aunt was just worried what I might just get up to if I did.”

“What, like a criminal?” Jeanie burst into a fit of giggles picturing Cormac in a life of crime. Although.. “That's the Delaneys, right?” Jeanie pondered. “Gordon and I knew some Dublin Delaneys.”

“That's like knowing a Smith.”

They had circled back around to his old dorm room where they had dropped off all their gear for China. Jeanie lingered on the old desk having perched on the corner. Her arms hugged around herself against the draft. Cormac sat comfortably on his old bed stretched out with his arms towards the wall behind him. An aged and browning poster of a full moon above his head.

Jeanie grimaced at the water stains underneath him and tried to hide her disgust. “At least I hope those are water stains,” she joked.

Cormac moved his knees apart and stared down at the bed, “Jaysus, love, what kinda stains d’ye t’ink t’ey are?!”

Jeanie raised an eyebrow. Cormac’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “If you need t’know, I was a shower wanker.”

He was so matter of fact, like he was about everything, Jeanie snorted. Still he made a big production of unpacking his massive sleeping bag and rolling it out along the mattress. He smoothed out the nylon, and presented it to his girlfriend for her to sit down finally.

As Jeanie settled in, Cormac stuffed his hands between his legs and his face flushed. “Do you have a boner right now?! Wait, because I'm on it bed? Is this some.. Puberty regression? AM I THE FIRST GIRL WHO SAT HERE?!” Jeanie couldn't help but squeal.

“NO! Hannah and Tara have sat here loads of times.”

“Yeah, but have you touched their vaginas?”

“JEANIE!”

“CORMAC!”

Jeanie played along and stole a kiss. Her lips pecked his briskly, but then again. They lingered longer so her tongue could sneak just inside his welcoming mouth. She may as well have waged war.

Cormac pushed his own tongue deep inside of his girlfriend’s mouth. As their tongues battled for the upper hand, Jeanie clung to his shirt and laid back on the bed pulling him along with her. She ran her hands under his tee-shirt up his back to dig her nails into his shoulder blades. His forearms on either side of her to prop himself up.

Cormac situated himself inside of Jeanie's legs that drew up alongside his hips. Still fully clothed as they kissed heavily. His belt buckle got trapped by the button of her jeans as they fought to come undressed. Both laughed at the absurdity of acting like horny teenagers simply because they were in a childhood bedroom.

Still, Cormac finally undid Jeanie's pants and tugged them over her hips to her ankles. He was clumsy at the laces of her boots which he gave up on and just yanked off and tossed somewhere in the room. Up on his knees, he threw both shirts he wore over his head. He fumbled with his belt and pants, standing only to strip them off before climbing back on top of Jeanie now in her bra and panties.

The cold air pimpled their flesh, but they ignored it when their kisses commenced. Jeanie’s hands were enmeshed in Cormac’s soft, dark hair. His lips and tongue started to wander to the base of her throat which he nipped and sucked where he could feel her pulse beat under his warm mouth. A brief moment she thought he would bite harder for fun; then he did. All the while he palmed the fabric of her panties in quick succession.

Jeanie’s breath caught at how brazen Cormac was being in broad daylight. Out in the open on top of the sleeping bag instead of in it. The static from portaling that ran through his nerves just under the skin passed on to her. Her brain was too fuzzy with desire to tell if the heat on her sex and clit was from the rapid friction or just the electricity Cormac emitted.

Jeanie couldn't even focus beyond the sensation. Her fingers and hands with a mind of their own drew his boxers down to expose his bare ass to her touch. She used it to draw his no longer secret erection into her entrance. Cormac’s hand and her panties in the way. He happily let her go so he could start pushing into the fabric with the head of his cock. Her ankles locked on his waist so her heels could dig into his lower back. They urged him to rut faster in spite of their underwear.

As klutzy as Cormac was with her jeans and boots, his long fingers were experts at undoing Jeanie’s bra. He kissed her shoulders and arms behind the straps he pulled off to expose her breasts. Breasts his mouth consumed hungrily. His tongue circled and practically inhaled one of her nipples before alternating to the other. He sucked in time to his bucks.

Jeanie deigned to speak, her words punctuated by Cormac’s movements. “I'm.. really..” she moaned “Cold.”

She was, he realized all of a sudden. With more laughter and flourishes, the two managed to zip themselves snug inside the sleeping bag. Jeanie's panties and Cormac’s underwear discarded in the process. Their bodies pressed to each other while his cock pushed into her thigh. The heat was immediate, in more ways than one.

They laid on their sides and faced one another. Cormac’s leg tangled around Jeanie's lower one. Her leg closest to the ceiling wrapped around his hip. Her calf draped along his ass while her hand reached between their bodies and took hold of his shaft. She positioned it just outside her entrance that ached to be filled. All the blood in her body swelled there.

Cormac gazed downwards at her hand, his breathing uncontrolled as Jeanie guided him again inside. Without any more instruction, he thrust inside of her so far and sharply that his pelvis collided with hers. Then he pulled almost completely out and sheathed himself to the hilt again. He repeated this over and over until they found a rhythm. Hips and sexes crashed like meteors with each powered motion.

Jeanie could only hold on. Her nails felt inches deep in Cormac's muscles along his shoulders. she had fleeting thoughts that yesterday wasn't his first time. That he lied perhaps out of embarrassment thinking he was no good.

Except he was, she was out of practice. The last time she had sex this good was.. She didn't want to think of him now. He was gone, Cormac was here. His forehead pressed into her jaw and cheek as he pounded into her. It only just dawned on her his glasses were on, bent at an unnatural angle in the crook of her neck. He didn't like to travel with his contacts in.

At this angle, Cormac hit Jeanie's clit every time he lost himself in her tightening walls. He was silent except for snorts of heavy air like a horse that escaped his nose. Both of them covered in a sheen of sweat until that lightning shot through Jeanie’s body. She coiled and recoiled and drew her boyfriend to her as she came. Cormac’s name echoed off the empty walls.

Not much longer until he did the same with a shudder and a muddled, husky “fuck” in Jeanie's shoulder. Cormac's body trembled which took her aback. Whether it was from the post-orgasm rush, or emotions, she didn't ask. Instead they held onto one another and babbled mindlessly until they fell asleep in the sleeping bag.

It was loud thunder and SILVIA through the old PA system that startled the couple awake.

“Cormac. Jeanie. May I suggest you leave as soon as possible? There is an approaching electrical storm that will surely affect the magnetic field produced by portal travel.”

They rushed to get dressed and repacked. Cormac was annoyed, “If you knew. SILVIA, why the hell didn't you tell me before?”

“Coitus interruptus. Perhaps Ms Turner feels I dislike her, but I can't imagine how much animosity she would display towards me should I interfere with your sexual intercourse. She's already jealous of our long-standing relationship”

Jeanie felt highly uncomfortable at that moment, watched even. Cormac was incensed. “SILVIA.” Then he shut her off, and they were bound for China.

Tag: @robertsheehanownsmyass @elliethesuperfruitlover @super-unpredictable98 @forenschik @slutforrobbiebro @frogs--are--bitches @nightmonsters @bisexualnathanyoung @bwritesstuff @rob-private

[xtrash-writing-trashx420]

Cheeky Minx || John Shelby x OC

//Welcoming the New Recruit//

"Makenna Aoife MacTavish, A.K.A. Makenna Muldoon; Duchess of Glenbrook, Aged 23

Served at the Somme as a field nurse and,"

The man before me takes a pause and looks up at me in faux surprise, as if the information on the paper he's gawking at isn't exactly why he's come seeking me out, and then continues in an almost condescending manner;

"Hm... and soforth was awarded title as Duchess and Sole Proprietor of Glenbrook Estates and Enterprises in Boston for her acts of valor.," He pauses again to throw down the file he was reading and light himself a cigarette.

I take in every detail, knowing that this meeting can end up only one of two ways, and assess the scenario. Tilting my head slightly and leaning back into the armchair in front of his desk, I cross my legs; his eyes glance from his ministrations with the box of matches he's holding and zip down to my left thigh where one strip of honeyed milk lies perfectly exposed between my black leather garter holster and my thigh-high nylon stockings.

I see the slight glint of mirth cross his steel blue eyes as he catches my not-so-subtle warning and continues to light his cigarette. I watch as he pulls his drag, the way his fingers just barely drape the stick of tobacco between them without effort, the way his eyes study mine, the way his free hand keeps switching between his knee and the top of the desk.

'A gangster like this doesn't get nervous over one woman with a snubnose purse pistol... Who is he waiting for?'

"I'll take one, while your at it." He smirks at this, and goes to hand me the one he's smoking. It's my turn to smirk, as I nod to his pack.

"A new one, if you don't mind." He raises his eyebrow, but nevertheless, complies. As I lean forward to take the cigarette, he lights another match and lights it for me, leaning over his desk so I don't have to.

'A gentlemanly gangster, not too hard on the eyes either.,' I admit to myself, studying his sharp features and piercing eyes.

Finally, after what seems like ages of simply sitting across and analyzing eachother, he continues.

"You're titled Duchess of Glenbrook but the common people call you Miss Kenna. You have 15 bars, 2 breeders farms, a horse track and 27 plots of real estate, and that's just in London alone. Glenbrook Estates is what, a mansion? And it says here you have 3 vacation homes as well." He scoffs and throws the file down on his desk.

"Well, let's get on with it, Mr. Shelby, as you well know, I'm a busy woman.," My voice is far too suave for my liking, but the situation calls for a little theater. "I would assume you called me here for a reason, this is hardly the place for a business meeting with someone of my status."

I sound like a proper posh cunt, and it seems as if he's taking the bait as he groans out a sigh and leans back into his chair. He lifts a hand to rub his temples, and then slams his fist on his desk in a motion so fast and loud, I was almost startled.

Almost.

He seems unfazed my lack of reaction, and continues on.

"Let's not pretend like you don't know what I want. You have influence all over, spies everywhere, and a very high standing. Everyone knows who you are. Nothing happens without you knowing about it.-"

"-As if I don't already know that-" I snappily interject.

"And I want your men, and your cooperation when we take over London. You're the most untouchable woman in all of North America. If you tell someone not to fuck with us, they won't. And those that do, you have ways of making it so they never existed."

I frown, sinking into the armchair infront of his desk once more and taking a long drag of my smoke.

"I see."

For the next few minutes we simply stare at eachother while we finish off our smokes, picking, analyzing, contemplating. Finally, after he offers me the crystal ashtray to put out, I appraise him and ask one simple question.

"What do you want from me?"

~~~~~~~

It's been 2 months since my meeting with Thomas Shelby at his gambling den, and 6 days since our last correspondence.

"Pack what you can in a suitcase and my men will come to collect you on Thursday. You're not safe."

No explanation, no reasoning, just that little tidbit over the phone while gunshots rang true and the sounds of men fighting grumbled in the background before he abruptly hung up. And since Thursday had come and gone the day after the call, I had resorted to relieving all of my staff save for my most trusted.

The only ones left on premises were my gate guards, my doormen, and my butler amd personal guard Carleton, who had only worked for me for 2 years but I was rather well aquanted with. We had hit it off rather well, and I considered him more friend than staff. He was a tall, broad shouldered Jewish man with a scruffy, large beard and bright eyes that reminded me of a child's, with a contradictory scowl that would make a grizzly piss himself.

Initially after receiving the warning, I had brushed it off without care. Being hunted was nothing new to me after all, being a woman who had served in the war and in other more internal battles of politics. But this was different.

I remember after the call I had snorted in laughter, summing it up as a joke and continuing on with my day. I had been untouchable, faceless and anonymous since the war. Only the most internal government files and most skilled intelligence organizations even knew what I looked like, let alone my real name. That was what had led me to agree to take up business with Thomas in the first place. But 2 months into business with the bloke and I show up to my race track to find every single one of my employees and horses shot and beat to hell.

Since then, I had taken to locking myself in my art studio with my easels and paints to distract myself; though it did little to nothing to soothe my racing mind. For the millionth time in just that day, I wondered why I wasn't safe, I wondered if Thomas and his Blinders had been picked off by their enemies, I wondered if my name had been let slip by one of his lackies in a braw deal that ended badly. I couldn't understand how I had gone from being untouchable, to going into hiding.

The only constant in each equation was none other than Thomas Shelby, and I made a mental note to tear him a new asshole when I got the chance.

I gave a start, knocked from my thoughts as Carleton entered with my afternoon tea, and my paintbrush skewed off stroke.

"Oh, fuck." I swore crassly, looking around my desk to find the paint I had used on the background to cover my mistake; not noticing my butler's sarcastic and smug grin over my classless use of vulgarity.

"Your tea, and lunch, Miss Muldoon." He presented my tray with grandiose show of putting it on my desk and lifting the cover to reveal my tea and what looked to be ladyfingers and some sort of meat sandwich. I didn't care, I was starving and anxious, so I sat and ate, thankful for the distraction.

"Don't be so smug, Carleton, I'm going mad up here." I complained as I ate, gesturing around me. "That smug bastard Shelby is going to pay for this. I've lived so comfortably until now."

"Speaking of, madam, you received a telegram."

"Oh bother, burn it."

"It seems important, ma'am. It mentions the race track."

At this I lean back to look over at him, he's moved clear halfway across the room to speak, and he's shifting his weight and wringing his hands. I sigh, and wave him on. He reads it out slowly, and I "tsk" in disappointment.

"You haven't been practicing," I chastise him, pulling a "give it here" motion with my fingers and taking the telegraph from him as soon as he's close enough. "Have you even read any of the practice books I've given you?"

"...No, ma'am, it's more difficult when you're not helping."

I glance at him with an incredulous look.

"That's no excuse, and you know it." I say, finally taking a moment to look at and read the telegraph in my hands, but it doesn't matter, because as soon as I go to focus, a gunshot resounds from outside the estate by the gates.

With a start, I get up and run to the window, moving the curtains to get a better view. I hear Carleton move the opposite way, closing the doors behind him as he leaves.

I continue to watch out the window, trying to see whats happening, though not to much success. The large fountain in my front garden is centre view from this room and all I can see behind it is a motorcar at my gate and my gatemen pointing their rifles at it. As I walk along the windows to try to catch a better view, I just barely see an arm come out the window of the motorcar with a piece of paper clutched in their outstretched hand before my gatemen move to unlock the gate and let the car through.

That's all I need to see to know.

The Peaky Blinders are outside my house.

(SO this will be a series based off of a slightly Mary-Sue character but it just is part of the story, please don't hate me for it lol. It'll make sense as to why she's this massive standing character later on. She's still a normal ass broad with hormones and issues so its okay lmfao. But anywhoooo, this is basically just a filler character intro to explain why Kenna is around and stuff. John will be in the next chapter, don't worry 😉 also my dumbass didn't proof-read this because its 6:00am and I NEED sleep. )

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 14‐ Propositions

Pairings: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 2775

Warnings: None.

13- Wessex

...

It was the first time Artemis witnessed the funeral traditions of the northmen. One of Floki's ships was used, and Sigurd's body was carefully placed inside, along with his lute and other items of his that he may take with him in the after life. 

He appeared to be sleeping. His hands rested gently on his stomach, his sword placed in his lifeless grip. His flaxen hair was braided beautifully, revealing a face of tranquility. It was as if he hadn't met a tragic end. 

It was the second funeral she has witnessed in two days. Two innocent lives taken so easily and brashly.

Ivar had tears in his eyes, real tears of guilt and anguish that he fought to hold back. Surrounded among the others, he looked utterly defeated and lost, two things that Ivar never dared to express. Bjorn, Hvitserk and Ubbe mourned, their features stone cold. The ship Sigurd peacefully rested in was set to sail, engulfed by an arrow of fire as it trailed down the river Thames, away from his family.

There was complete silence after that.

The crowd erupted into low murmurs and slowly departed, leaving Artemis to stand next to her troubled master. He sniffled loudly, turning his red rimmed eyes to look at her before glaring and crawling away hastily into the settlement.

He needed time on his own.

...

"Floki has left." 

Ivar crawls into the forge, eyes red lined and watery. He throws himself into a corner like an old sack, his chest rising and falling rapidly from his rage, and perhaps from crying. Artemis was alone, much to his relief. Arvid was nowhere in sight, and Ivar felt more comfortable to drown himself in his self pity in her presence. 

She sits on a stool far from the the dying flames of the hearth, working in silence. She quickly acknowledges him with a glance before continuing her work sharpening a mighty sword belonging to King Harald. 

"Did you hear me?" Ivar demands, "Floki has left! He has left me!" He chokes, lowering his face into his hands, defeated.

Artemis frowns, pausing her use of the whetstone to take pity on him. Floki was the only other person who regarded him as more than just the boy who couldn't walk.

"I've heard of his departure," She answers softly, "He mourns his wife. I mourn her too." Ivar sniffles, noting her sad eyes. She was indeed mourning.

"Where has he gone?" She asks him.

"Somewhere," He chuckles bitterly, "Anywhere. I dont know." He picks up a random stone beside him, chucking it across the room, successful in knocking down a few tools. She jumps, the noise startling her.

"They are angry with me, all of them." He mutters, keeping his eyes low. He was not wrong. His brothers regarded him with a cold shoulder now. What Ivar viewed as an accident looked deliberate to the rest. 

Artemis listens as usual while he prattled on with his excuses. She never really did care for his excuses, but she did sympathize for him.

"I did not mean to do it, surely they know that." Ivar continues, turning his eyes to her again. Her silence bothered him immensely. She too hadn't uttered a word to him since the disastrous feast.

"Have you nothing to say?" He growls, manuvering himself to settle directly in front of her. He springs forward, using a hand to place it atop of hers, stopping her movements. She swallows thickly, and their eyes meet.

Something about her eyes spoke volumes, causing a fluttering feeling to invade his abdomine.

"Last I spoke out of turn, I was beaten." She finally says, her tone bitter. This was the last situation she should give an opinion about. 

Ivar huffs, snatching his hand back and crawling away from her in favor of looking out towards the crowded land that once belonged to King Ecbert. 

"I did not mean to kill my own brother." Ivar didn't turn to look at her, but his tone said it all. He was pleading for someone to believe him, even if it was his slave, "Surely, you believe me?" Still no response. 

"You may speak freely." He says after moment.

"I believe you let the anger get the best of you." Her words were cautious as she continues to run the whetstone down the length of the sword. Ivar grunts, running a hand down his face in frustration.

"Tell me the truth, Artemis, tell me what you really think." He hisses, swatting away a happily chirping bird that dared to land near him.

She sighs. Fine.

"I think you sometimes forget he was your brother. You took his life without thinking. It is shameful."

"Sigurd made me do it! He was always tormenting me, you know this," Ivar let's the words out through gritted teeth, "He hated me."

"You tormented him as well," Artemis points out, placing the whetstone to the side and inspecting the sharpness of the blade with her thumb. It was ready to go back to King Harald's waiting hands, "But he did not hate you." Ivar tears his eyes away from the calming nature of Wessex in favor of glancing at his slave. She sheathed the sword back in its place, focusing fully on her crippled master.

"He liked you, you know." Ivar mutters his eyes glazing over with emotion. Artemis knew what he meant by that. Sigurd made his attempts, but that was all in the dust now, burned alongside his body. 

She bites her lip, looking at him with those damn eyes. Ivar still had no idea how she did that. 

"He painted you to be very willing." He says, struggling to contain his growing anger. She scrunches her nose in obvious distaste.

"I thought Prince Sigurd kind once," She begins, pushing her hair away from her face "It did not mask his envy well." Ivar snorts, giving his head a shake in disbelief.

"King Harald will be leaving soon. May I take his sword to him?" Ivar makes an odd guttural sound, as if he wanted to say no, but nods his head in approval.

He quickly grabs a fistful of her trousers as she steps out, and she lets out a surprised yelp as she fought to keep her balance. 

"I did not believe him," Ivar mutters, his eyes pleading, "About your willingness." Artemis clutches the sword to her chest, giving him a quick nod.

"He...I will miss him." He whispers brokenly.

After a few seconds of fighting an internal battle, Artemis lowers herself to her knees beside the grieving prince, her fingertips gently grazing the skin of his hand.

"May the Prince rest in peace."

...

"Does my brother treat you well?" 

Bjorn asks, eyeing the cross that peaked out from her bodice. The gold had a slight shine to it, and reminded him of the cross his late father use to carry around in the days he'd seen him last. Artemis casts him a lazy glance before continuing her work. She places a leg on the ancient well for support, using her strength to pull the ropes to retrieve the bucket of water.

"He is decent." She grunts, hoisting the bucket tightly in both hands. Bjorn moves to help her, snatching the bucket from her small hands with such ease that it made her roll her eyes. She never really cared for this particular Ragnarson. He annoyed her greatly.

"That isn't necessary." She says, knowing perfectly well she was capable on her own. Bjorn didn't listen, continuing down the short path he knew she'd take. Artemis follows behind him, realizing she had forgotten how large he was in stature. She barely made it to the height of his chest.

"I have a proposition for you," He says, stopping to place the bucket near the entrance of the forge. 

"Proposition?" Going to grasp the bucket, Bjorn stops her in order to get her full attention. Her brows furrow, but she allows him to stop her, crossing her arms in annoyance.

"As you know," He begins, "I plan on returning to the Mediterranean." He takes caution in speaking low.

"I am aware." 

"I think it will be an advantage to bring you along. You speak the languages of the east, you can be a translator while we navigate. Does this interest you?" 

It steals her attention immediately. It almost sounded like a dream. She ponders the idea.

"You cannot expect me to aid you in raiding my people." She counters.

"We will just be exploring," Bjorn says with a cheeky smile, "It is merely an adventure, an exploration of your world and of the old gods." She narrows her eyes at him, not too keen on his answer. She doubted Bjorn planned on sailing to the Mediterranean without the intentions of raiding.

"Well? Does this interest you?" He repeats.

"It does," She says after a moment, "But what's in it for me?"

"I will allow you to go back to Crete," Bjorn says with a shrug, "Right my wrongs. It would be as if you never left."

Artemis licks her dry lips, her mind immediately conjuring an image of an angry Ivar.

"Ivar would not allow it." 

"No," Bjorn agrees, "You are of value to him, but there is no need for him to know. Think about it." He leaves her with a smile and a pat on the shoulder. 

She wonders if she should trust him. Bjorn was a mystery of a man, but he promised her Crete, and that was all she wanted.

She sighs, bending to grasp the bucket of forgotten water. Hoisting it up, she returns to her duties, feeling Arvid's eyes on her. He stood there with a pensive look, as if trying to read her thoughts. She realized he's eavesdropped on the conversation, and that look was enough to know he had opinions.

"Don't." She says, walking past him and into the heat of the hearth. 

"You must be daft," He mocks, watching her place the bucket on a stool. She rolled up the sleeves of her shirt before getting to work.

"Do you think you can just leave? Ivar will kill you!" Artemis ignored his prattle, already growing accustomed to the useless babble of men. She doesn't grace him with an answer, moving to work on Ivar's smaller weapons.

"Artemis!" 

"What!" She drops the hammer with a loud bang against the anvil, causing Arvid to wince at the noise, "What have you to say?"

"You're thinking about leaving with Bjorn." 

"I've been far from home for long enough." Arvid crosses his arms over his chest like an angry child. 

"And you trust Bjorn?" He hisses, slowly approaching her.

"He is the of a man you and your people came to fight for. Should I not trust him?" She hisses back, "He offers me an opportunity." Artemis glares up at him, gripping the hammer tightly.

"You risk your life!"

"Then it is a risk I must take. I've no purpose here."

"You do not realize how lucky you are," Arvid scoffs, "You are treated well. Most slaves cannot say the same."

"So you wish for me to stay with the Prince then? Is that it?" Artemis feigns confusion, "I think you say these things for yourself. You do not realize how selfish you sound." Arvid sputters, mouth going slack and brows arched high. He turns away from her when he had no retaliation.

"This does not concern you." There was a finality in her tone, enough to express that she's had enough of the conversation.

Arvid had never witnessed her anger before. Her demeanor was strong willed, and he knew there would be no way to sway her thoughts. He didn't want her to leave. It was quite selfish of him, really.

Looking at her angry eyes reminded him of Ivar's.

...

The brothers bickered until they decided their next destination.

York.

A prominent city not far from Wessex, York would be their next conquest. Ivar was dead set on invading more land, while Ubbe was against the idea, wanting to settle down and work the land given to them. In the end, Ivar's charisma won everyone over, and plans to attack York were set into motion. 

There was so much talk of the grand city, that Artemis was almost sad she wouldn't be seeing the splendor for herself. But the last thing she wanted to witness was another city destroyed and covered in blood, just as the monestary has been desecrated months ago. There were more important things to worry about. 

It hadn't been an easy decision for her, surprisingly, as the obvious choice would be to leave with Bjorn if she wanted the slightest chance of seeing home again. But something was terribly off. It was a nagging feeling that tortured her to no end, like the discomfort of pins and needles over her skin. The nagging told her it was a mistake, that leaving would cause her more strife than peace. 

Artemis just wanted it to stop.

She thought she hated him. She wanted to hate him. 

The stupid cripple bastard.

He was dangerous, and he was everything she was taught to stand against, yet she realizes she slowly pined for him like a lovesick girl. 

Everything about Ivar was wrong, and yet her little heart told her otherwise. When was she to realize she harbored warmth for a hostile pagan? So what, he showed her a bit of kindness and that was enough to have her swooning? It was an embarrassment! Even now as she sat alone thinking to herself, her cheeks were dusted pink and she covered her face with her hands at the realization.

Prince Ivar. 

She liked him. 

"Shit." She mutters to herself, tugging at the roots of her hair in disbelief. Perhaps Ivar was right, she was weak as a baby bird.

Veikr.

It didn't matter. She has made her decision, and she chose Crete. If Bjorn was a man of his word, then she will reach her home and be reunited with her father in no time. In a perfect world, everything would be as it was.

The army was to leave to York in the early hours of the morning and Bjorn was set to leave the night before. Artemis had taken everything she thought she would need, though she struggled to leave Ivar's cloak behind. After debating with herself a hundred times, she leaves it, folding it neatly over her work station

She peeks out from the empty forge, eyeing all of Bjorn's men gathering around their ships for departure. 

She takes in an even breath. The nagging feeling returned, telling her Ivar would be furious. Ivar would be enraged, but she doubted he'd search for her across the seas, not when he and his army has been successful in England. Besides, she was sure he'd forget about her in time, she wasn't worth the trouble.

Tossing her satchel over her shoulder, she mutters a prayer and kisses her cross before taking quick steps toward the docks. She immediately spots Bjorn and Halfdan, chatting away while men around them placed items into the ships. 

She could almost taste the salt in the air, and she breathed in the winds of the mighty sea, her heart thumping erratically in nervousness.

But she didn't get close enough. 

She stops, a blunt blow over the head knocking her to her knees. For a mere moment pain bloomed over the afflicted area before her eyes rolled back.

...

The throbbing pain brought her back into conscience. 

Noise attacked her sensitive ears, the chatter of men, the sound of boots scuffing up the dirt, the laughter. It was too much.

She groans, feeling her body tumbling in the tight corner she was in. Once her head slammed against something, she forces her eyes open. Her vision was blurred, seeing the smallest hints of sunlight and shadows before blinking into focus. 

Immediately she recognizes Ivar's buckled legs. This was no ship bound to the Mediterranean. She was stuffed into his chariot like cargo. Bringing her hands to the base of the chariot, she shifts her body just enough to peer above her.

Ivar was livid. 

His jaw was clenched tight and his nose flarred. A hand held onto the reigns, the leather slapping loudly against the mare's back. His other hand was tightly gripping a familiar lump of fabric over his lap. 

He brings his glaring eyes down to look at her, his lips set in a sneer.

"You forgot something." He spits, roughly tossing the fabric onto her face. 

His cloak somehow still smelled of fresh pine.

...

@heavenly1927​ @didiintheblog​ @rastakami23

[kuronanox]

Apart - Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

Never in a thousands year did she think that she would see his face again. Yet he was here in the soul society where she originated from. An overwhelming pack of emotion build inside her as he step foot in front of her. (Your Name) couldn't read the expression on his face. He didn't look happy or sad, just expressionless to her.

All of this happen and was interrupted when Nel hit him in the head to get to Ichigo and that was when Grimmjow lost his balance and was pulled out of his daze towards (Your Name).

"You are alive?" She quickly says beating Ichigo to the question.

"Let's leave this happy reunion for another time will ya." Grimmjow smirks.

(Your Name) couldn't help but look at him, she thought that she was to late to save Grimmjow when Nnorita attacked him and she was forcefully taken away from him by Rukia and Renji when the war was over. She thought he was dead the whole time. Even Grimmjow understood that their relationship was forbidden.

"Why?" She says to Grimmjow with sad eyes and tears forming threatening to fall off.

"You left me." He says to her before walking away. (Your Name) was frozen in place, she was hurting. She wanted to run and hug him, save him from all the painful memories of them.

"(Your Name), it's okay lets give him some time. Let's beat this war and talk to him when everything is settled." Nel warmly put a hand on her shoulder with a smile on her face. "Trust me, he has been hurting too."

(Your Name) looks at Ichigo and he gives her a determine smile as she simply nodded.

Although the war was happening and everyone was fighting with all their strength she couldn't bare to separate from him any longer as she stayed near him but not to close.

Grimmjow was chasing Askin as the Quincy man ran away from the sexta espada but Grimmjow cat instinct chased him till he could cut the man down.

(Your Name) could tell he wasn't going to be an easy enemy as she was lost in thoughts a unknown Quincy came from behind her and attacked leaving Grimmjow away from her sight.

With (Your Name) gone Grimmjow sensed she was in battle "Don't you dare lose women."

"I guess it's time for me to get serious also."

He couldn't help but think how long it had been since he last saw her. The last image he had of her was unpleasant, she was crying on top of him trying to wake him up. He was physically tired from the fight he had with Ichigo and with Nnorita giving the final blow he wouldn't admit lost but he was already thrown on the floor and then it was black for him.

When he woke up she was gone and everyone was gone and he was stuck with that annoying green hair child and Halibel.

Grimmjow wouldn't admit that he was hurting everyday she was gone from him. He finally had a reason to fight besides trying to kill Ichigo, he wanted to save her home so she could live happily without him again.

(Your Name) cursed as she was thrown harshly and crashed into a building as blood escaped from her mouth. She wanted to win, she had to win or else Grimmjow was personally going to kill her for losing. She smiles lightly and charged towards the Quincy.

Meanwhile Grimmjow and Urahara teamed up to take on Askin, Grimmjow impaled the mans chest crushing his heart with success. They believed that they took Askin down till they were engulf into his poison.

"I can't be killed by this." Grimmjow gritts his teeth trying to get up from the floor. Unsuccessful he thought this might be it, he was going to be defeated by a Quincy in a foreign land he didn't know. "I'm sorry (Your Name)"

After (Your Name) defeated the Quincy she felt that Grimmjow's reitsu was fading as she panicked and saw the big poison that had taken Urahara, Grimmjow and Yoruichi.

"Nel!" She says as the taller women stood next to her. "I wanna see Ichigo again you know." The green hair women tells (Your Name) as she sadly smiles and agrees. "Yeah I wanna see Grimmjow again too."

As the two took a deep breath they both entered the entrance to save them.

The war ended and there was so many casualties and changes it was hard for (Your Name) to cope with the loses. "Hey." She hears by her barack door to see a familiar face she yearned to see everyday.

"Uh come in." She quietly says as Grimmjow takes a seat next to her. The atmosphere was awkward. It was like they were totally strangers towards each other. "When do you go back?"

"Soon." He replies as she bites her lip and sighs causing Grimmjow to just stare at her.

"Why did you leave me." Grimmjow stares, genuinely upset at the women infront of him, after the war with Aizen he swore that no was going to hurt him like this again. The experience of love and happiness was first developed with (Your Name). He didn't like the stuffy warm feeling, it was out of character for him.

"I wanted to stay, I wanted to be with you and I tried to save you but you wouldn't come back. Rukia and Renji forcefully tried to take me but Kuchiki Taicho insisted that he wasn't going to leave a team member behind." (Your Name) explains looking down as her hands clenched in fist on her lap. "It's just never going to be a happy ending for us will it?"

"No one even approves of our relationship." Grimmjow bitterly bites back.

"Nel and Ichigo do."

"Like I give a shit what they think."

(Your Name) could only smile because Grimmjow was finally talking to you again. "I can't believe they allowed you to stay."

"They fucking better I helped their sorry asses in this war." He says scooting close to her laying his head on her lap as she ran a hand through his hair and he purred.

Grimmjow and her eyes both widen before she giggles and he gives out a toothy grin. "I don't remember the last time I purred." He yawns as she hums in response.

"I don't want to part ways."

Grimmjow looks up to her as the tears fall on his face and he gently wipes them away for her. Only for (Your Name) he would try to be gentle and try to learn the emotions of compassion.

"Don't cry." He tried to comfort her as she let the tear slip past his fingers as she broke down. "Why did we have to be enemies?" She continues to ask as he listen to her pleas. "I don't wanna live in a world where we have to be apart."

Grimmjow doesn't know what to say, he would never show anyone his weak side but for (Your Name) he always did. She was making his heart break as each tear came down his face. The sexta espada sits her up and straddle the small girl on his lap as he rest his chin on her head.

"I don't know, run away from here." He suggested as she pouts at his stupid suggestion and squeezes his arms hard. "Damn women I'm just trying to help."

"This is goodbye isn't it?" She whispers lowly as he hugs her tightly in response. "Promise me, you won't replace me."

Grimmjow sighs "What'd ya talking about? Like hell Im going to let someone come close to me again... unless it's you."

She sadly smiles as she turns her head and gives Grimmjow the first and last kiss they've had since meeting again. He kisses her back with intense passion as he felt his heart racing. "Of course only (Your Name) can make me feel soft."

After separating they stare into each other before pulling into a tight embrace. "I'm going to miss you." Grimmjow finally admits as she hides her tears again in his chest.

"I know, I'm going to miss you too."

Falling asleep on his chest (Your Name) embraces Grimmjow as he softly places her on the futon. He pushes some hair out of the way and tucks her in before getting up. He sadly looks at her face one last time and giving her a kiss before departing.

The next morning she shot up from bed and looked around for Grimmjow, opening the barack doors she called out his name. Some of her fellow shinigami friends tried to tell her that he was gone and asking if she was alright but she pushed them away.

"Don't touch me! I have to see him." "Grimmjow!" "You can't leave me like this!" "I can't live like this"

She sobs falling onto her knees till a long arm caught hers (Your Name) looks up to see her captain.

"Kuchiki Taicho?" She says confused as he looks down at her worriedly.

"(Your Name) he's gone. You have to pull yourself together." He states calmly holding her from falling as she bites her lip and looks away ashamed for looking so pathetic in front of everyone.

"I bet everyone thinks I'm a traitor for loving a arrancar." she bitterly says as Byakuya sighs and speaks. "No one thinks that."

(Your Name) stopped crying and started to stand on her own now. "I won't give up on him." She tells her captain as Byakuya could only acknowledge her determination.

She walks onto a hill in seiteitei, the afternoon sun shining brightly and looking around she saw her fellow comrades rebuilding and she gives one last smile.

"I have to be happy for him, for us. I'll see you soon my love."

[ineffably-a-fangirl-99]

KAYSANOVA FIC REC PART 2

I'll always be here with you behind closed eyes by @siriusnebulae

"One day, they had chosen to converse only in Persian, and were walking along the coast in the late evening, enjoying the breeze and stars coming out. They had just come from sunset prayers, Nicolo waiting outside while Yusuf had been inside. After praying, Yusuf was always more contemplative and grounded, and they each happily kept to their own thoughts, content with being at each other's sides."

Muslim!Yusuf and LostFaith!Nicolo after the war, falling in love

Language Barrier by twoseas

Yusuf expresses certain thoughts to Nicolo in Arabic. Sometimes he just needs to say them out loud and Nicolo can’t understand him anyway so where’s the harm?

Centuries later, Joe is still dealing with it.

two hearts, out of sync by @jhoomwrites

Nicky is never happy to see Joe die, but it is unfortunately a familiar part of their lives. But when Joe wakes up and attacks Nicky, he knows this time is not like the others.

one lifetime will have to do by @jhoomwrites

Joe didn't mean to fall in love with the cute Italian guy, but honestly he couldn't help himself. Now he has to deal with the consequences.

Where Nicky wasn't born in the Crusades and isn't immortal, and Joe has to come to terms with the fact that he'll one day lose the love of his life... whether it's decades or only a few years from now.

Habibi Through The Years by @meanderingstream

For a man formidable and even equal to Yusef himself in battle, the frank sure seemed hopeless at everything else.

"Again, habibi, really?”

—

ElephantOfAfrica pointed out that (paraphrased):

Habibi does indeed mean ‘My Love’ and grammatically it's being used correctly, but the reality of day to day life for Arabic speakers is a little bit different. It’s very, very casual and very versatile; it's not special. Some people use it when they're gearing up for a fight 😂 like "oh yeah Habibi?!" Fists up a-hole!!! Like it can mean babe, or honey, or you fucker, or are-you-trying-to-charge-me-extra-for-2-kilos-of-tomato?-fuck-you, or what-do-mean-your-mom-sent-us-dinner-again?-are-you-complaining-about-my-cooking-to-her? 👀👀 In general, there’s an incredibly passive aggressive energy it holds.

So this language plot-hole fixit got stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave. This is how Joe started calling Nicky “habibi,” and how the word became theirs.

the sun is trying to kill the moon by @andrea-lyn

“Where,” he hisses, leaning into Andy’s space, “the hell is Nicky?”

Andy doesn’t flinch even when Joe gets up close, his anger unrestrained. She lets it all wash over her before settling her coffee cup on the table. She’s staring at him like he’s the one with a problem, as if he’s gone crazy. “Joe, I don’t know who Nicky is.”

The science community unveils successful time travel and the very next morning, Joe wakes to find that no one knows who Nicky Smith is, other than him. Faced with the prospect of a life without Nicky, Joe will stop at nothing to get him back.

Campus cryptid vs. Future valedictorian by @agirlwithachakram

Mara Glass did not care about "weird hot guy," the supposed "campus cryptid." She had heard of him her first couple years and had him pointed out to her by a classmate once, but what was there to notice? Okay, he was probably thirty, a nontraditional student, so what? There were a number of those around. Apparently he was hot--well congrats to people who were into people, they could keep him. And if you asked Mara, from her extremely objective perspective, those Disney-green eyes were doing a lot of heavy lifting. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about a thirty-something guy who didn't talk about himself to twenty-year-old classmates. He probably had, like, a real life. There were rumors he was married, although Brittany noted that the only reason people thought that was because one time someone heard him finish a phone call with, "You light the candles, I'll bring dinner. I love you." None of that was remotely interesting to Mara. He sounded like a normal person, and she wished people would shut up about him.

Then in third year, she had a history class with weird hot guy

Kidnapping for Dummies by @runawaymarbles

A group is hired to kidnap Joe.

It doesn't turn out how they expected.

-

(based on the "you don't have him, he has you" meme.)

Stracciatella by @theheirofashandfire

“None of us have any evidence of the ways we have died,” Nicky continues. “But you remember the fall, don’t you? You remember the first time you died, the way your blood spilled out as your throat was slashed. I remember the first time I died, when the love of my life drew his sword across my neck as I drove mine into his chest and we both fell to the sand.”

Joe hums at that, a small smile curling his lips as he leans into Nicky’s side, and the fond look on Nicky’s face makes Nile’s chest ache a little. “Your body forgets, but your mind remembers them," Nicky says softly. "Sometimes, your mind just remembers."

[just-another-kny-writing-blog]

Just in Time

Warning(s): manga spoiler alert

Pairing(s): Rengoku Kyojuro x female! reader

Kyojuro is leaving for his next mission because he heard that people have gone missing on a train. He came to see Y/n one last time before he has to go.

"Bye, Y/n!!! I'm going to head out now!!! If I don't hurry up and go now, I will miss the train!!! I promise that I will come back to you, so please don't be worried!!!" Kyojuro ruffles Y/n's hair and kisses her goodbye.

Y/n watches Kyojuro leave out of her sight into the distance. She couldn't help and shake the feeling that something bad is about to happen to Kyojuro, out of her mind. She paces back and forth, trying to calm herself down. But she's way too worried about him.

Y/n also runs after Kyojuro, hoping that she can catch up to him. ‘Please! Please let me make it in time to him!’ As she silently says her prayers over and over again. Thank goodness that she decided to go after him, or else she could have lost him forever.

Y/n came after Akaza ran away from the sun, leaving Kyojuro to die from his injuries. She quickly runs and kneels by Kyojuro's side. Kyojuro wasn't happy to see her, not when he is going to die soon. Seeing her cry is the last thing that he ever wants.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I won't be able to keep my promises anymore. I'm going to die soon. I want you to find someone else, and please be happy with him. I'll be happy as long as I know that you're happy. Even if it's not me standing by your side." Kyojuro forces a big smile on his face, hoping to convince her. But deep down his heart, he feels remorseful for leaving her behind.

"Please don't talk like that, Kyojuro! You'll be okay! I swear it to you!" Y/n refuses to let Kyojuro die on her, not when she knows that she can heal him. As a marechi of an extremely rarest blood, she can heal wounds with her blood.

Y/n gently lay him down on his back before pulling out a dagger from one of her sleeves. Y/n then proceeds to slit her left palm and ooze out her blood onto Kyojuro's wounds.

Kyojuro's wounds start to miraculously heal. He sits up and touches his wounds with both of his hands.

"My wounds...are disappearing? How is that even...possible? Is it because of your blood, Y/n?" Kyojuro nevertheless can not believe that her blood saved him from dying.

Y/n nods her head as she softly smiles at him. "Thank goodness that I came just right in time, or else I don't know how I am going to live without you." She cradles his cheeks with both of her hands while pressing her forehead against his. She softly cries out in tears of relief.

"Thank you for saving me, Y/n. I love you very, very much." Kyojuro wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into a tight embrace. Tanjirou, Inosuke, and Zenitsu all cry in relief as they all witness a miracle. They all run up to them and have a big group hug. Everyone is glad that Kyojuro will be okay.

The kakushis treated all of the injured people, after the battle. Tanjirou, Inosuke, and Zenitsu all went to tend their wounds at the Butterfly Estate. Kyojuro reports his success to Oyakata-sama, and he also reports about Y/n's healing ability, if she doesn't mind.

Y/n watches the kakushis do their jobs as she sits down, leaning against a tree nearby. A kakushi comes up to Y/n to tend her hand. But her hand is already healed. Kyojuro also walks up to her to check her palm himself too.

"I'm fine, Kyojuro. You don't have to worry about me. My wound heals a lot quicker than an average person." Y/n shows her left hand for him to see and smiles at him. Kyojuro smiles with relief, knowing that she's okay.

Kyojuro offers a hand to pull Y/n up. Y/n happily takes his hand as he helps her stand up. "Shall we go home then, Y/n?" Kyojuro said. "Yes!" She replies to him with happiness as Kyojuro picks up her in a bridal style. Smiling and giggling together as they make their way back home.