#they focus more on enjoying the other's company and shove their problems to the side

[galactic-rhea]

You’re so right when you said that Anakin and Padmé are actually really good at communicating! This is an aspect of their relationship that I never see being discussed! And it’s so unfortunate! In the Rots novelization, this is actually shown more so with how Padmé doesn’t even ask Anakin to open up about his fears (his visions) because she trusts that he will, on his own. Proof that he lets himself be vulnerable around her and confides in her with everything. (this part of the book was said from Anakin’s POV.) Even in the scene where Bail asks the senate group not to utter a word of the Rebellion to anyone and Padmé basically having a meltdown over having to keep a secret from her husband now. (She literally says the words “don’t make me lie to my husband! It’ll break his heart.”) keeping secrets and not communicating obviously isn’t a thing they’re use too, and that’s why their issues in ROTS becomes even more tragic, Sidious really did everything to turn them against one another. I do wanna elaborate more on a more accurate and ‘in character’ way Anakin and Padmé would’ve handled things during the Clovis arc, but that deserves a separate post 😭 I don’t wanna dump that in your inbox!

I do think there's miscommunication and some problems and insecurities because they both come with such complex tangle of emotions and traumas, and because they barely ever get time at all to like, actually spend time together.

But yee! When it comes to their feelings they're fairly open, imo. The whole AOTC had them (particularly Anakin) being painfully honest. Even Padmé, after spending what, one day with him was already saying stuff like she didn't actually want that much to be senator or that she was too young to be queen at the time. And Anakin does quite literally confess child murder, even without reading the comics and novels I think I'm safe to assume that neither of them is that closed.

In ROTS everything is a mess, but even then he does outrightly tell her his dream, and the "I'm not the jedi i'm supposed to be, i want more and i shouldn't" etcetc, Padmé is perhaps the person he can be the most honest ever.

With Padmé sadly we get less examples in the movies (not counting deleted scenes), but she is a politician and a more experienced and mature, she knows things need to be talked, especially when Anakin is involved. And likewise, she feels like she can be honest with him the most, because only he does know her (all her other friends are work-friends).

So yep! That's my assumption about them! Glad you agree, and since you have read way more material that's very validating <3

also if you ever want to dump lots on info on my asks be my guest dsfndfjsdfdf

[astralm00ns]

WXS CYBER AU (my takes on it)

feel free to use these au ideas with credit! (if you decide to please tag me i’d love to see)

SHIBUYA, TOKYO | CYBER UTOPIA - 20XX. shibuya, tokyo, for the most part, has remained one of the most bustling and important parts of society as a whole. it’s many products, businesses, and overall heavy advancement in technology have made it a staple in the world, especially those looking for business partners. it’s technology has absolutely exceeded many, turning it into a cyber utopia.

though, what hides is the corruption underneath all of this cool tech and beautiful cityscape. crime is a regular, mostly by rogues who want to fight against businesses, who have turned creativity and art into nothing but a huge money making scheme. the higher ups always consider rogues as criminals, as they would prefer siding with the people who would give them money.

rogues for the most part, spread around their creativity without the form of payment, without needing to think of it as a cash grab. also engaging in fights and crime for the sake of defending art over fame. rogues typically act late at night, since ordinary folks are typically distracted by the cityscape and flashy products being shoved right into their faces. while they fight, they do have good intentions. merely wanting to put a stop to cash and fame grabbing scenes, and return to art being a form of expression.

companies released these power hungry robots to combat rogues. selling them in mass, disguising them as “protectors.” it’s gotten to a point where these robots have taken over a huge portion of shibuya, and it’s starting to become a major problem to the cityscape.

KAMISHIRO RUI

a vigilante who works alone in the shadows, though also once a well known figure in local parts. thanks to his past of showing off the inventions he made.

in his youth, his inventions were ADORED. absolutely loved by people, and that made him happy and all that. he wanted to keep making more such things since it’s something he really likes doing

though as he got older, he noticed people trying to buy his inventions off of him, saying how he’ll make it big and that he won’t ever need to worry about living his life the way he does anymore. and it gets consistent too. like, REALLY consistent these offers, when rui’s just really trying to enjoy making inventions for enjoyment and artistry. he doesn’t ever want to see his inventions as products that can be sold.

it starts infuriating rui since he thinks that these rich companies just want to get his inventions in their hands to make a quick buck, and it gets him really pissy and shit. so he stops showing off his works, keeping it private and only showcasing it to people he trusts. only works he does show off publicly are the ones he uses when it comes to combat, like his drones.

rui wants to find others like him. others who have seen through the minds of these other companies who are supposed to focus on art, not actually doing so and instead using it as a way to go viral and get money. he is a firm believer in using art to express, not to sell. he’s typically either working on inventions or out fighting, though alone most of the time. occasionally going out to combat with nene, a childhood friend of his. also since she’s really the only person he knows now that he still trusts a lot (prior to meeting emukasa)

TENMA TSUKASA

a well known rogue, at least around other rogues. he keeps himself undercover when not in public, but he goes full out flashy when engaging in combat. tenma tsukasa style and all that idk. he buys his tech, especially his combat ones, from other rogues, mostly to help them out. also to put it to good use. when it comes to being out in the city, he’s mostly hidden. watching over the cityscape overtop buildings and planning, or walking about scramble crossing. he really can’t deny that despite the amount of advertisements being shoved everywhere, all the lights do make up for a beautiful looking area.

tsukasa was often seen doing play battles as a kid, especially with little abandoned robots he had found laying around in parks or other public spots. taking them home to keep playing with them. his little friends that kept him entertained while his sister, saki, was in the hospital. he gave some of these robots to her so she could also have someone with her. tsukasa often prioritized going whenever his parents gave him the opportunity, doing anything with those little robots to make her happy. tsukasa then started going out more as he got older, starting to see rogues doing their thing. he believed it was one of the most amazing things he ever saw, and agreeing fully on their motives. he remembered saki talking to him once about them before, but never would’ve have believed he would see some in action. he wanted to do just that to make saki happy. once he was of age, he became a rogue himself. though forgetting his original motive, wanting to climb ranks, he moved up extremely quickly. now being one of the top rogues out there. both to his amazing ability handling tech and physical combat, his lack of identity in public too.

he met rui while taking down some robots. his ass was getting whooped by some robots, but rui found him, going in and dealing them off. tsukasa thanks rui for the saving and decides to ask him about his inventions, mostly since they caught his eye. something he’s never seen before. after rui explained to tsukasa that he made all of them all on his own, tsukasa was immediately taken back and impressed. he offered rui to join him, in which he was first denied. mostly since rui still had trust issues at that moment. eventually the pair kept running into each other, until finally rui gave in, seeing what this “oh so great tsukasa” truly had potential for. proving to be a great partner in combat.

KUSANAGI NENE

a not so active rogue, mostly spending her time in arcades. either for fun or for tournaments. though she does manage to get herself to go out whenever rui decides to ask her to. while she doesn’t go out as much as rui at all, she certainly knows her stuff. especially with robo-nene, a robot rui made specifically for her as a friend. also so that way she had someone to play games with. nene over time requested features for robo-nene, and now she often uses her as some sort of side kick when fighting other robots. thanks to robo-nene’s analyzing, it allows nene to act fast and prove to be a very strong opponent, whether it be human or AI she’s fighting.

she typically avoided being flashy and showy, mostly since she didn’t want to bring any attention towards her. mostly for safety reasons. she prefers keeping herself much more secluded, especially since it makes everything easier. it’s been like that since she was little, only exception being when she was with rui. often being shy and not really talking to people. she started fighting after rui introduced her to it, seeing it as a good way to bond with rui again after growing a little distant. often going on little side missions just to keep her busy, though she did eventually find enjoyment out of it. often thinking about it like playing a game. where the objective was to destroy as many robots as possible. she and rui complemented each other really well with each other’s fighting styles, the pair always working well the few times they fought together. though for the most part she fought alone with just robo-nene.

it was through combat where she tsukasa, seeing him do his thing. at first she felt second-hand embarrassment at how extra tsukasa was acting when talking about himself, at least before seeing him whoop ass. she couldn’t help but be impressed, then deciding to occasionally watch him fight. until eventually he noticed her, introducing himself and inviting her to join him. she decides to, occasionally fighting with tsukasa now as well. nene decides it’s best not to tell rui about him yet, just to be safe. besides, rui would eventually catch a guy like him anyways, considering how easy that man would be to spot. she met emu in an arcade tournament. watching her talk to one of the players about plans. then occasionally running into each other in rogue safe spaces. she came to grew an appreciation towards her after seeing her contributions towards rogues, despite not even being one at all.

OTORI EMU

her family owns OTORECH, one of THE most largest businesses in shibuya. they sell out a whole bunch of devices in mass, ones that supposedly are supposed to make things easier for people. emu, being an otori, knows what goes on behind the scenes. she often overheard her brothers and father discussing their sales, and how they only keep trying to come up with more products to make even more. emu believes the money her family makes could go out to other people rather than blowing it on even more products, but her proposals never end up getting to her family. 

what emu does instead is give insight for rogues. she delivers information about OTORECH and other companies they have partnered with, mostly to allow them to plan ahead of time which areas they need to deal with in terms of savage robots. she never asks for anything in exchange, other than the ability to either watch or help fight said robots. rogues have come to respect her a lot, always looking forward to what she has to bring. in turn she also keeps the rogue’s plans as secrets, that way they won’t be caught. enjoying delaying some of her brother’s plans so rogues could do what they need to do much quicker. she’s very skilled in using weapons way larger than her size, carrying them with ease and also using them to beat down robots. always wanting to go on combat missions solely because of how much she enjoys them. she’s hoping that one day she can be the one running her father’s business, that way she can put a stop to all the unbelievably pricey items her dad and her brothers decided to put out.

tsukasa was the one that introduced emu to rui. nene had already known her for a bit from the few times she encountered her at the arcade or at some vacant places with robots, but it was her first time meeting rui. emu was quick to like rui’s presence, not really hearing much about lone vigilantes, let alone ones with all of their gadgets being self-made. also trying to see behind rui’s serious exterior. she and tsukasa both then decide to take rui out to fight. eventually nene joins as well, the four of them forming their own small coalition with one another. each using their own unique skill sets to take down robots much easier, for the sake of bringing back art in its purest form.

[bullet-prooflove]

Trust Me I Know - EZ Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @anime-weeb-4-life @vannabanana1995 @multifandomloversworld @camelia35 @queeniesdiary @lilvampirina @princessghost-24 @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @sclitvdes

It’s late or early, depending how you look at it. The bar has been closed for a little while and you’re in the midst of the clean down. You’d been short tonight, one of your regular bartenders had called in with food poisoning.

EZ had been having a beer when the call came through and offered to lend a hand. He tended bar back at the clubhouse and had no problem stepping behind yours. He was a practised hand, the two of you worked well together, never getting in each other’s way. He was bigger than you, needed more room to move. Every time he brushed past you, you felt that familiar heat rolling off his skin. When his warm palm came to rest on your hip, you felt it searing through the fabric, you wondered what it would be like to feel his hands on your bare skin, fingertips trailing underneath your clothes.

“Can I ask you something?” EZ says as picks up the last round of glasses from one of the tables and puts them in the rack for the dishwasher. He’d stuck round to help you clean up. It was a relief to be honest. You were dead on your feet, the exhaustion creeping into your bones as you restocked the beers in the fridge.

EZ could see it a mile away, he was attuned to you, your moods, your nuances. You were limping slightly; it was barely detectable, but it was there. An old injury he thought, he’d noticed it a couple of times at the end of a long night.

“Anything.” You responded to his question, straightening up to give him your attention.

“The bar.” He said gesturing at the space around him. “That always been your thing?”

“My father’s.” You told him, breaking up the cardboard box that had held the beer before shoving it into the recycling bin. “My grandfather’s before that.”

“So, it’s in the family.” He summarised.

“I actually used to be a dancer." You tell him, and he gives you a look of surprise. "A scholarship in UCLA, studying contemporary dance, afterwards I ended up with a dance company in LA.”

“Contemporary dance?” he inquired.

“My focus was contemporary ballet, it’s a blend of classic ballet and modern dance.” You explained. “It gave me more freedom in expression, I found classical too rigid.”

There was a wistfulness when you spoke, happiness and sadness. He could tell that you enjoyed it, that dancing was a passion for you, a way of life. It’s in the way you move, there was an elegance there, a grace in your step. Even behind the bar you shifted with fluidity, with a bounce in your step. It’s like you had your own rhythm, a song he can’t hear.

“What happened?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing into a frown as he slipped onto a barstool alongside of you. Your knees bump together, and he notices when you don’t pull away.

“Car accident.” You tell him, your hand running over your right thigh thorough the fabric of your jeans. You can still feel the scars on either side of your thigh from the pins they’d put in and then the abscess they had had to pack. “Broke my femur, lost more than an inch.”

“Your hip.” He said suddenly, patting his pelvis on his right side. “I noticed that you suffer with it sometimes.”

“It’s the discrepancy.” You tell him. “It’s why I can’t dance anymore. The footwork in contemporary dance is intense, fast moving. I couldn’t keep up with it, so I ended up back here, running the family bar and paying off my father’s debts.”

“That can’t have been easy.”

He knows a thing or two about having your life upended, about heading in one direction, visualising a future before having it snatched away from you. His hand comes to rest on yours, his thumb tracing over the curve of your wrist.

“No, it wasn’t.” You told him with a sigh. “It was such a big part of my life, the only time I felt like myself was when I was dancing. It didn’t matter if I was having a shitty day, or if the money was tight… All of that stuff it just seemed to slip away you know? It was just me and the movement.”

He thinks he understands on some level, it’s the same way for him when he reads books. He loses himself to the literature, delves into other people’s stories. It saved his life in prison; he thinks it’s saved his life since.

“When was the last time you danced?” he asked you quietly.

You shook your head.

“I don’t even remember.”

“Ok.” He said, slipping from his bar stool and digging in his pocket for a couple of coins before inserting them into the jukebox. He scrolled through the song list before selecting one. He turned to you, holding out his hand with that smile on his face.

“Dance with me.” He requested.

“You’re serious?” You asked him, placing your hand in his.

“Yea,” he said drawing you off the stool. “You can’t be any worse than me.”

EZ’s gentle with his touches, his free hand coming to rest upon your hip as you press closer to his body. You can feel the heat rolling off his skin. He runs hot, he always has, and it sends prickles of anticipation through you as he sways in time with the music. You close your eyes as he presses his cheek to yours, the rough stubble caressing your skin as the two of you move to the rhythm. You can hear the pulse of the song in your ears, the notes igniting something inside of you, something you’ve not felt in a long time. It’s exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time, because you thought you’d lost this, the ability hear the music, the sensation of it coursing through your body. For the first time in an age you feel like you’re alive again, that the missing piece of yourself has slotted back into place.

EZ must sense the change before his eyes meet yours. They’re dark, a rich mahogany with flecks of gold around the iris, you’ve never noticed that before, never allowed yourself to. Despite how you feel about him, you’ve always tried to maintain a distance but those barriers of yours, they’re falling away. In that moment you let him see everything.

His breath hitches and he leans in close, he smells like oakmoss and bergamot, earthy and rich. It’s intoxicating, you can feel the beat of his heart against your chest before he lowers his head, his lips sweeping over yours. It’s heated and tender, the softest brush of his mouth and you’re hooked. Warmth floods through your body and you can feel yourself falling as he cradles you close, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

When he breaks away, he presses his forehead to yours and for a moment you can’t speak because all you can feel is this wealth of emotion in your chest.

“I know.” He whispers, his thumb ghosting over your cheek. “Trust me, I know.”

Love EZ? Get added to his tag list!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[shadow-says-hello]

Turn It Down

Finally decided to write something for Wednesday! I hope this is good enough :) <3

Summary: Enid blasts pop music while Wednesday is finishing up another novel. Since Wednesday and Enid have a close bond now, Wednesday has gotten a bit nicer (if you know what I mean.)

Lee Enid Ler Wednesday

Warnings: tickles, (NOT WENCLAIR) platonic pair only. Also this is the next semester in Nevermore.

Enid was usually a super sweet and outgoing girl. A lot of people loved Enid, since there honestly was nothing to like. The little werewolf was utterly adorable.

Wednesday was liked a lot for saving the school and sacrificing her life. But when you think of Wednesday Addams, you think of a gloomy, boring, and quite ‘emo’ girl.

But no one loved Wednesday more than Enid. Enid was always so proud to call Wednesday her roommate, no matter what other people said. And Wednesday knew how much Enid loved her.

They enjoy each other’s company in the small dorm room, and usually Enid wasn’t a huge problem to Wednesday.

Except for her loud pop music, full volume TikTok’s, and Enid’s loud laughter that fills the room every time she receives funny text messages.

Wednesday tells her to stop, and Enid mostly does, only by turning the volume down a little bit. Wednesday hated the pop music. Oi, was it annoying.

Wednesday just wanted to go over there and slap Enid. As much as she loved her, the music has got to stop.

“Don’t you have headphones you can put in? If you want to listen to loud music, go to the balcony.” Wednesday said.

“Just ignore it!” Enid replied cheerfully, putting on “Oh No!” By Marina. Still at full volume.

“Enid, I’m WRITING. I can’t focus if you continue playing that loud music, the ground is vibrating.” Wednesday snapped.

“But I love this song!!! I can’t turn it off now…” Enid whined.

“Turn it off. It’s easy. Just press the button on the speaker and go listen to it somewhere ELSE. Not where I am working.” Wednesday hissed.

After a few minutes, Enid finally listened and put in some headphones. Wednesday felt relieved, until…

“ONE TRACK MIND, ONE TRACK HEART! IF I FAIL I FALL APART! MAYBE IT IS ALL A TEST, CAUSE I FEEL LIKE I’M THE WORST, SO I ALWAYS ACT LIKE IM THE BEST!” Enid screamed with a smile across her face. Line after line, Enid didn’t stop.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m coming back there.” Wednesday said with anger building up in her tone, getting up from the chair and walking over to Enid’s side of the room and yanking the cord that connected the earbuds to the phone out, and then exiting out of all the music tabs.

“Heyyy!!!! W-Wednesday! I was listening to music!” Enid complained.

Wednesday whipped the phone at Enid’s giant pile of plush animals, so it didn’t break. Enid squirmed and tried to bear hug Wednesday. From behind, but Wednesday was too quick, and she tackled Enid to the floor and pinned her to the ground.

“What did you not understand when I told you to ‘keep quiet’.” Wednesday said with a very firm tone.

“But I like it! I guess I’m sorry, Wednesday, but I just like being loud!!!” Enid smiled.

Wednesday grabbed Enid’s arms and pinned them above her head, as Wednesday took a seat on Enid’s waist.

“Whahaht ahare youhou doihing, Wehehendesdahay?” Enid asked, a few giggles rising up her throat.

“Giving you what you deserve” Wednesday replied.

About a millisecond after she said that, Wednesday wasted no time in shoving her hands under Enid’s armpits and danced her manicured nails there.

“WEHEDENSDAY! NOHO! THAHAT TIHICKLES!!!!!!!!! MOHOVE SOHOMEWHEHERE EHELSE!!!!” Enid laughed harder.

“Poor choice of grammar on your end. Now you made it sound like you want me to tickle you.” Wednesday teased in her low-monotone voice.

“PFFFF HAHAHAHA!!!! IHI CAHANT TAHAKE IHIHIT!!!!!!!!!!!” Enid laughed really hard.

“Relax, it’s just a little bit of tickling, I’m barely even touching you. No need to be so overdramatic.” Wednesday teased more, switching spots and moving down to Enid’s ribs.

Enid continued to stay at her same level of giggles. Wednesday then shuffled down to Enid’s sides, making the werewolf shriek and go into silent laughter.

“Hm, well, this seems to be a real bad spot. Noted.” Wednesday couldn’t help but smile a little bit.

Enid thrashed and squirmed, her crop top type shirt riding up a little bit in the process. Wednesday didn’t want to make her completely uncomfortable, so very lightly Wednesday dragged her nail below Enid’s belly button, and then dragging her nails on Enid’s sides.

Enid was laughing a little too hard, her face was flushed red and her eyes were watering a bit.

“WHAHAT AHARE YOHOU DOHOING NOW!???!!!” Enid laughed, squirming at the light touch of Wednesday’s nails on her belly.

Wednesday pulled Enid’s shirt down a bit, and then blew a raspberry on her belly, half of the raspberry was on her shirt and the other half of it was on her bare stomach. Enid was literally dying.

After the raspberries, Wednesday nuzzled her face into Enid’s tummy, the tips of her braids brushing against Enid’s ticklish sides. Wednesday then gave Enid a ton of side squeezes, making her squeal.

“IHI GIHIVE! WEHEDNEHESDAHAY, PLEHEHEASE STOHOP IHIT!” Enid begged through her loud cackles and laughter.

After about 10 seconds, Wednesday stopped, released Enid’s arms, and got up off of her waist.

“I hope you learned, because if you do that again, I’ll tickle you so hard you’ll be crying. And next time I’ll blow 10x more raspberries. I have everything that just happened noted in my head.” Wednesday said, returning to her desk.

“Dang.” Enid said, getting up and fixing her messy hair and pulling her shirt down. Enid didn’t really want to tell Wednesday, but she really loved that experience.

After that, Enid tried and tried to tickle Wednesday, but it just didn’t work. Wednesday just ended up getting her back more times.

The end ;)

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this fic, I tried really hard! <3

[watercolorfreckles]

Make-A-Wish - Part 1

When Hero finally managed to crush Villain against the wall, she could hardly breathe from the overexertion of the fight. She could rarely get a hit in, let alone pin him.

The euphoria of catching him spiked through her like a jolt of static, but she shoved the excitement down to focus on the task at hand.

The surprise only gave her a split moment's advantage.

"Just listen for a second, I'm not here to fight, I need to talk to you!" the hero blurted, words spilling from her mouth in a rush before Villain could throw her off of him.

He looked her up and down.

Villain's laugh was cynical and biting, but he indulged her all the same. "You want to talk. Alright, pretty hero, do tell."

Shoulders sagging in relief, Hero released him and stepped back, at least partially assured he wouldn't bolt or attack instead. Villain was usually a man of his word. The problem was in that his word usually consisted of creatively graphic threats that he made good on with renowned efficiency.

Where Villain was eloquent and unwaveringly self-assured, Hero was clumsy and fueled by luck; far more similar to a pesky fly that always just managed to escape being swatted out of existence than the one holding the weapon.

Hero strained to catch her breath, holding a hand to her panging side.

"Gods, I think you bruised my internal organs."

He smiled, something close to fond, though she could still sense the fragility of their momentary truce. "What is it you want to talk about?"

Villain leaned back against the wall and propped a leg back against it, twirling a knife on his finger with expert grace.

"There's a little girl in the children's hospital," Hero began, speaking carefully as if placating a wild animal. Villain was far from feral--he was far too calculated for that--but she knew he enjoyed a good game of cat and mouse. "She's dying. It's pretty common for terminally ill children to request to meet me."

Villain kicked off the wall and sheathed his knife, boredom etched across his features. "Darling, what exactly does that have to do with me?"

Hero hesitated, straightening her mask. The adrenaline of the fight still buzzed through her, leaving her twitchy.

"It's...not me that she wants to meet."

Villain paused, narrowed his gaze. Hero was sure it could bore a hole through her skull.

"Turns out, you have a fan," Hero continued lightheartedly. "She wants to meet you more than anything in the world."

Villain snorted. "What do I look like, Make-A-Wish?"

He brushed past her with all the dismissal of an older sibling grown tired of humoring a child.

Hero turned to follow him. "Please, Villain, just one visit. It would mean the world to her."

Villain halted and turned back around. Hero collided with his chest.

Villain's gaze was clinical, assessing. "You really trust me in a hospital full of children?"

"Yes." It came out so simply, so ready, and without hesitation. Hero's cheeks flushed. "I mean... You're not a monster. You'd do a lot of things, but I know you wouldn't hurt kids."

The silence stretched taut between them. Villain didn't deny it.

"In exchange, I'll...leave you alone to your nefarious devices for a day," Hero offered.

"I could so easily crush you," he said, closing the barely-there gap between them with a step forward.

Hero didn't back away.

"You could, but then you'd never again get to experience the delight of my company."

Villain let out an irritated sigh, and Hero knew she'd won. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.

"One visit. Anything to get a moment of peace from you buzzing around me like a petulant toddler."

Hero handed him a piece of paper with all the details. He snatched it from her hand and went on his way.

She knew, then and always, he wasn't quite as dark as he wanted everyone to believe

I felt inspired to start this story after re-reading this amazing snippet by @yourheartonfire. They're not rly related at all other than involving a villain in a children's hospital, but I wanted to credit the inspiration all the same! I didn't get to rly get into that part yet, there will be a Part 2 soon showing the visit between the sick girl and Villain. :)

General Taglist: @writing-on-the-wahl , @valiantlytransparentwhispers , @distance-does-not-matter , @redbircl , @lilaccatholic , @crazytwentythrees , @thelazywitchphotographer , @chibicelloking , @lolafaiy , @thinkwrite5 , @putridghost , @tobeornottobeateacher , @sunflower1000 , @bouncyartist , @thanatoastie , @feyriddle , @yet-another-heathen , @silverwhisperer1 , @distractedlydistracted , @pensivespacepirate , @appleejuice , @deflated-bouncingball @maybe-a-cat42, @m0chik0furan, @mercurymom, @fairysprinkless, @vuvulia, @classicplesiosaur, @amongtheonedaisy, @dabi-s-whore, @rose-pinkie, @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room, @scorpio-smiles, @inkygemuwu, @wolfeyedwitch, @thewhumpmeisterx3000,

[spencerreidsconverse]

Connected

summary: Spencer visits reader at work for their lunch break, but tension curbs their appetites

word count: 2.1k

warnings: Smut!!! Degradation, Unprotected sex, Use of pet names, semi-public sex (in an office).

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: This is a sequel to my previous fic Connection but can also be read as a stand alone!

Spencer walked into the cafe, trying to keep his nerves to a minimum. He knew you already reciprocated his feelings so there was no reason to be so anxious. Between his ever-changing schedule and your dedication to the cafe, you’d agreed to have lunch at your work so you could finally see each other again. It wasn’t the most romantic first date, but given that you’d met when he was hunting a psychotic killer who was coming for your neck, it fit quite well with your previous interactions. Despite his efforts, when he saw you taking a customer’s order his heart began to pound and he had to really try to catch his breath. You were easily the most breathtaking when you were in your element. A smile on your face, your apron tied and held with a pin, and your voice like a songbird. He waited for you to be done with the orders you had stacked and a few short minutes later he saw you pull off your apron and make your way towards him.

“Hey, Spence! How’s your day been?” You leaned in and kissed his cheek, earning one of his pretty boy smiles. He kissed your forehead in return. “Hello, my love. It’s been an underwhelming day compared to now. I’ve missed you.” You smiled softly at his words, leading him to a small booth towards the back of the shop where two sandwich boxes and two large paper cups sat. “I wanted everything to be ready so I could talk to you for as long as possible, I hope that’s okay.” You were suddenly afraid he’d be displeased with your choice of food but he quickly put you at ease with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s perfect Y/N.” You both sat at the table and began to eat, discussing the week that had passed since he’d dropped you off at your apartment. He asked how you’d been feeling and if you’d noticed any other side effects from your injuries. You quickly soothed his fears and told him you’d felt fine except for a little bit of stinging on your wrists.

You were a few bites into your sandwiches when one of your employees, Alexandria came up to you. “Hey Mama, do we have quarters in the back?” You cocked your head at the question and nodded at the girl in front of you. “Yeah, we should. Did you go check?” She gave you a simple shrug before thanking you and making her way back behind the counter as another customer came through the doors. You turned back to Spencer to apologize for the interruption but instead, you were met with his smirking face. “What’s so funny Dr. Reid?” He kicked at your shin softly at the mockery of his honorific “Just that I teach a college class and this is still the most watched I’ve felt by a bunch of kids in their early twenties.” You looked at him wide-eyed before turning around just in time to see your employees make a horrible attempt at looking busy. One of your assistant managers was pretending to wipe the register screen off with her bare hand, avoiding eye contact like the plague. “You know what, why don’t we finish our lunch in my office” you proposed, rising from your seat before Spencer had the chance to respond. He followed your actions and you had crossed through the counter when another of your employees, Max stopped you. “Y/N Wait!!! You can’t go back there, what if we need you??” He gave you his best attempt at puppy eyes in hopes that you’d pity him but you eyed him with false annoyance.

“That’s why I hire managers Max. I’m sure if you all put your meddling aside and actually focus then it’ll be a quick thirty minutes. If any of you knock on my door, there better be blood or fire. Got it?” They all nodded dejectedly and went back to their respective stations to straighten up while you continued back through the hallway that led to your office. Spencer moved aside to allow you to unlock your door and flick the light on. You pulled the seat opposite to your computer and desk chair around so they were both on the same side of the desk before resting in the smaller one. Spencer quickly joined you, careful not to knock into the computer on his left. “You weren’t kidding when you said they were like your family were you?” You shook your head with a smile “of course not. As much as they get on my nerves, they’re the sweetest kids I’ve ever met. They respect how much I care about my business and they do their jobs with diligence. I couldn’t run the company without them and I make sure they know it. When you have mutual respect, the workplace is a hell of a lot more fun, dontcha think?” Spencer nodded, smiling at your small tangent. “Of course, the BAU has been my family for a long time now, I know exactly what you mean.” Your conversation continued lightheartedly for a few more minutes when you reached up to push a stray curl out of his face.

He turned his head to face you and before you could take in another breath his lips were pressed against yours passionately, placing a hand around the back of your neck. You pushed your chair out away from the desk and swiveled his chair so you could climb into his lap, reattaching your lips as fast as you could manage. His hands slid up your thighs and rested underneath your dress on your bare hips, toying with the waistband of your panties, leaving a trail of fire where his hands lingered. You in turn pushed down into his lap, feeling how hard he was through his trousers. You whimpered into the kiss softly at the groan you managed to elicit from his mouth, but before the moment could continue you heard whispers and one poorly muffled giggle. You ripped away from Spencer long enough to yell in the general direction of the door. “Are you working right now? I swear to god if I get up there and there’s a single customer all of you will stay late for inventory.” That was enough of a threat and you heard footsteps scampering away. “Are you sure you want to do this here?” Spencer asked you, nervously eyeing the door again. “Yeah, as long as you can stay quiet Dr. Reid.” You eyed the man with a smirk and he tangled his fingers in your hair to pull you close to him in return.

“Sweet girl… I’m not going to be the one with that problem.” You moaned at the tugging sensation and before you could muffle it yourself he pressed your mouth against his own again, pulling your panties aside and running his finger against your folds, earning another muffled moan as he gathered your wetness. You ground down against his hand and he chuckled at your eagerness before slipping a finger inside of you. You broke your kiss to catch your breath but he instead began to curl his finger against you, knocking what little breath you managed to cling onto out of your lungs. “Spence… god Spence you feel so good.” He smirked at how fast you were falling apart around him. “Y/N I thought you said we had to be quiet? Look at you, you became a whimpering little mess so fast. You just needed to be touched huh?” You nodded pathetically against his shoulder where your head sat and let out a gasp “Spencer please… I want you inside me”

He nodded and lifted you up, placing you on the desk before you could process you were in the air. “Y/N unless you have a condom in your desk drawer, how do you wanna do this?” “I’m clean and I have an implant. I’m okay with it if you are Spence.” He smiled and kissed you softly for a few seconds, letting you enjoy the sweetness before returning his two fingers inside you, making you moan out against his mouth. He pulled your panties all the way off and broke the kiss to shove them in your mouth “I have to make sure you stay quiet for me baby girl.” You let out a moan both at his words and the taste of yourself flowing through your mouth. He kissed down your neck and pulled up your dress far enough to run his hands over your bra before wriggling his hand underneath the band, grazing over your nipple. You moaned through the fabric in your mouth and he removed his fingers from you, making you whine. You heard the clank of metal before you felt him press against your entrance. “You ready for my cock angel?” You nodded rapidly, and let out a long moan as he pushed completely inside you.

“God you feel so good baby. You’re so good for me” You felt your eyes roll back into your head at his words that matched his thrusts deep inside you. “Fuck Spence - You’re so deep inside me.” He grunted and wrapped his hands around your hips, pulling you harder back onto him. A few minutes of him slamming you into the desk passed while you both fought to keep quiet, his hips stuttered and he moved one of his hands down from your hip to rub small circles on your slit, making you whine. “I want you to cum with me, baby girl. I want you to cum all over my cock sweetheart.” You nodded at his words as you felt yourself nearing the edge of your climax. You wrapped your own hand around his wrist that was left at your hip “Spencer, I’m gonna cum. I want your cum inside me baby” you let out a long moan when he rubbed your clit faster, feeling his thrust deep inside of you. “I’m gonna cum inside you sweet girl. My good girl” He let out with his final few thrusts before you felt his cum leak into you. “Fuck baby.” He let out a shaky breath and laid his head down against your chest. “You’re so good for me baby. Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly, feeling the last of your high wear off. “God that was… amazing Spence.” You slowly sat back up with his help and redressed slowly as he did the same, cleaning up your desk with the cleaning wipes. You finished dressing and sauntered over to him, wrapping your hands around his neck. “That was by far the best lunch break I’ve ever had.” He smiled and dropped the cloth into the wastebasket, placing his hands around your waist. “I must say I agree with you, except for that now I have to leave.” He said sadly, kissing the tip of your nose.You met his lips and kissed him deeply for a few seconds. “Yeah, I need to get back out there anyways. I’ll see you later?” He nodded and pecked your lips again. “Yes. Sooner than later if I have anything to do with it.” You smiled at his remarks and let him pass you to make his way out of the office and back to the BAU. You followed a few feet behind him and went back behind the counter as he made his way towards the door. “Spencer wait!” you heard Alexandria call to him. He turned around to meet her gaze and she smirked slyly “Does this mean you’re our daddy now?” His cheeks turned beet red and you gasped. “Alex! What the hell??” Spencer let out a chuckle and shook his head, taking your scolding as his opportunity to make it out of the shop. You struggled to hold your laughs back as you scolded her but failed and you both began to giggle. You took the empty shop as a chance to text Spencer. 

“I’m the only one that gets to call you Daddy <3.”

A few minutes pass and you busy yourself with checking your stock when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Damn right, Princess. Feel like joining me at my apartment for dinner tonight?”

You smiled, excited for even more time with the man.

“Of course! What’s on the menu?”

“You.”

You felt your cheeks blaze and you placed your phone back in your pocket, resigning yourself to count down the hours until you could see him again. Finally, as you were locking the door your phone buzzed again with a new message.

“Here’s the address. Apartment 23. Hurry up angel, I’m starving ;)”

[rotshop]

help girl i just woke up and im already thinking abt mag s/o again. anyway please consider ;

[ tw body horror, some brief light gore and violence ]

[ note ; reader is SLIGHTLY described. the only thing mentioned is that they have a noticeable, identifying scar on their face

hank + mag s/o

-he knew you even before the boombox incident. he doesn't even really remember how you two first met, he just remembers that you started talking to him and then just kinda kept coming back. at first he wasn't the biggest fan of you since he was 'doing just fine on his own,' but...he admittedly was already really attached to you. they've never been much of a talker and that's especially noticeable to you at that point in time but ,,, they respond enough with signing, nodding / shaking their head, or the occasional speaking that you're able to carry some conversations pretty well.

-he doesn't really. have. a lot of people in his life. you're really his only real close friend, it's kinda hard for him to fully wrap his head around it so !! they chose not to, instead focusing more-so on whatever it was you were rambling to them about that day.

-not super sure of where to put this lmao but ummm ehe . he's actually surprisingly touchy with you????? like. you've hung out at his house a few times and he just like. you'll start out sitting next to each other and you'll end up either laying with your head on their chest or vice versa . its . a little funny . you tease him about it a little and he just flicks your shoulder. also traces your scar a lot if you'll let them, they're not entirely sure why they do it, they just . like asking you about it occasionally.

-also you have scary dog privileges. they might look like any other grunt at that point but they're still tall as fuck and idk man !! something abt getting a blank stare from someone who towers over u would probably make u shut up and mind ur own damn business.

-again, he's not super good at fully recognizing / acknowledging certain thoughts and feelings of his but . yknow. he can definitely tell he at least worries about you a lot more than he would some other grunt he just met. he can definitely tell there's a reason he doesn't mind you touching him, whether by grabbing his hand to go show him something or just placing a hand on his shoulder or arm (most likely arm, again. hes tall. ). they can definitely tell there's a reason that they find themself genuinely enjoying your interactions.

-after the park thing you don't see them for a long time. everytime you try and call him the lines dead, everytime you try and ask others about him you just get choice words, all in all you're pretty much lost on the entire thing. sure, you know what happened but . it just never sits right with you. it doesn't help whenever people ask questions about them or give you wary looks because of your association, half steps back when you take one forward.

-anyway. yeah nevada goes to shit and you get magnified for the aahw. by now you just. don't really talk about hank. surprisingly, you have a little more of your old memories than the average mag !! congrats. problem is they're all foggy enough that you only really distantly decipher them. lmao. you aren't super high on the ladder but you're a pretty tough mag to beat. you're well known enough that other mags tend to hang around you when there's not much else going on. v2 mags especially think it's fun to mess around with you by jumping on your back or otherwise clinging onto you . idk man u've got like . a little family here .

-at one point or another there's an outing youre on that ends up going wrong. you get split up from the rest of your unit and are forced to hide out in some old abandoned building while you wait for backup. you're a little too injured to try and walk all the way back, a heavy gash on your side preventing you from doing too much in the moment. when you hear heavy steps on concrete you're able to give some sort of noise of relief, turning your head to look over your shoulder at whichever agent in your group had finally found you-

-you're instead met with red goggles and the end of a gun.

-any kind of relief is snatched away, you know damn well who it is by just the bit you can see in the dark alone. even standing in the shade between two windows (one of which you were sitting by, probably how they seen you in the first place- if that's the case though, it's a little weird they hadn't just shot at you through it.) you knew it was him. you're already stumblingly forcing yourself up to as much of your full height as you can manage, taking some kind of defensive position even as one of your hands ghosts over your gash. the throbbing pain of it and the feeling of blood sticking and running down your skin is enough that you can't seem to focus on the fact that he won't stop staring at your face.

-it doesn't take long before your legs seem to fail you, forcing you forward a bit as you kneel in some sort of attempt to keep upright. you're too busy hissing under your breath and screwing your eyes shut in pain as your hand covers your side to notice your company stepping forwards. you're snapped back to attention when there's a hand on your face, fingertips digging into your skin as they yank your head down a little further. you know you should be grabbing him, that you should be digging your claws into his torso and ripping him clean in half, throwing whatevers left aside and leaving. you know thats what you were told to do, what you were told they deserved anyway. yet, you aren't. instead, you're just giving some warning growl as you stare at them. you notice how the end of the gun is pointed away from you, how their touch seems to outline the mark on your face.

-"If you try and hurt me, I'll kill you." That's the only real heads up you get before he's crouching down and shoving your hand out of the way, grabbing something from his pocket to get to work on you. you don't fail to notice how little attention they're paying to you (aside from the focus on your wound, of course), that you could just rush forward and slam them into the ground if you really wanted.

-ok im skippin g ahead bc this is already way too goddamn long for hcs DEJWJCS

-anyway. it's a complicated relationship for a while. the others tend to avoid you a little but he just keeps showing up around you. they keep staring at you and just hanging around in your general area. it's not that much of an irritant if you ignore all the weird emotions and thoughts it keeps bringing to the forefront of your mind, forcing you to once again try and meddle with your memories.

-eventually he just starts walking over to you and sitting down next to you. sometimes he doesn't say anything at all, just sitting there and seeming to wait for one thing another- he never seems to find whatever that is, as he always gets up and leaves without a word at some point or another. then they start talking, its just little things at first, point-blank statements you can't say much on. sometimes they're just saying they and the other three will be gone for a bit othertimes it's some half-demand to let them look at the stitches they did on you (semi-related, he's not good at them. the stitches are pretty rough. at one point or another sanford has to redo them properly lmao)

-but then there's one particular night. they do the normal thing, come over, sit down next to you, not say a word. this time though you note how they're facing you. instead of some reminder or a demand for anything, he's pulling his ask down and asking a simple question. 'What do you remember?'

-it's a long conversation. he's talking more than he normally would by a long shot, occasionally stopping whenever his words seem to especially fail him and get stuck in his throat. you don't even really remember moving around, or even him pulling you in any way, you just know you somehow end up laying next to him with your head on his chest.

-whenever the memories do seem to click into place, it's hard. you have a lot of choice words for them yourself, months of being left alone without a word bubbling up with a vengeance, they listen to them. while some mags (such as yourself) do have the ability to speak, the san and dei don't think they've ever heard one with that much emotion in their voice. they've especially never seen a mag just break down like you do, they're both tensing up a little from their far away spot when hank's walking closer to you. instead of you lashing out or swiping at him though, you just sit there while he wraps his arms around you (as best as he can at least, it's a little difficult but he's able to get them around your neck and reach his other hand behind you well enough). you're eventually doing the same to him, though it's more so just your hands resting on their back.

-it takes a good while for proper trust to be rebuilt along with an honest, proper explanation from hank that only you're privy to. eventually though, there's enough trust that you're able to hang around him again without narrowly avoiding an argument or anything. they don't like being super affectionate or 'vulnerable' in front of the other two, so most times they prefer being in your or their room. also they're still touchy lmao, doesn't help that you're mag sized now and so they just want to hold you . its hard to explain, he's never been super affected by others heights and even when he is it's usually a negative thing for him but . for some reason . he just likes being shorter / smaller than you lol ,,,,,,,, hope you like holding them a lot bc that's what you're gonna be doing

-holy shit these are long so . i think .i am going to stop here.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Noona, Do You Not Like Younger Men? (Choi San+Jung Wooyoung)

Pairing: Choi San× Milf! Reader (Female)× Jung Wooyoung

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Idol AU.

Summary: Maybe going over to pester their favorite manager during her vacation wasn't such a bad idea, especially if it ends up with them getting what they always fantasized about every night.

Word Count: 4.2+K

Warnings: Age differences (still within legal boundaries), breast play including titty fucking (yeah I'm aware some of us don't have huge tits, I'm part of that squad but we can dream ok?) fingering, m+f+m threesome, ass grinding, spanking, degradation.

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @deja-vux @daniblogs164 @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @a-soft-hornytiny

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Y/N's eyes squinted at the two younger males who casually showed up at her home, uninvited and already letting themselves in as if they owned the place.

"Hi Noona. Did you miss us?" The older one of the two squished her cheeks together, earning him a slap on his wrist, which he did not appreciate.

"Aww Noona, now look what you've done. You made him sad." The other male pointed to the other's pout.

"Choi San and Jung Wooyoung, just what the hell do you think you're doing here?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Isn't it obvious? We came to keep you company!" San cheerfully exclaimed.

"We know you missed us so we decided to come over and spend time with our favorite manager." Wooyoung added as he went over to try and cling an arm around the older woman, but she brushed his hand away.

"Ok, in case you guys didn't know, I'm on vacation, a well needed vacation from my manager duties. Specifically from you two! You little brats who constantly give me migraines and high blood pressure. I got this vacation to get away from you both!"

The boys were taken aback by her outburst, looking back and forth between each other and then returned their faces back to her. Their somber and disappointed expressionism soon bursted out in laughter, confusing the woman in front of them.

"Oh Noona! You're so funny." San giggled.

"We know you love and adore us so much. And you're happy that we came to keep you company!" Against her will, and more since she was outnumbered, she let Wooyoung and San each take one of her arm and drag her over to the living room where they sat her down and started arranging the space so they could have a small movie day. Y/N let out slow and deep breaths as she tried not to lose her patience and just let the boys run around her house as they started putting the snacks they brought with them into bowls. She could hear them muttering angrily to each other from the kitchen, no doubt telling each other to be careful less they accidentally broke one of her plates. In less than 10 minutes, they had about  7 or 8 different bowls full of different snacks, ranging from crispy chips, to sour gummy worms and even different types of sweet chocolates.

"We even got mochi ice cream! Would you like some?" Wooyoung enthusiastically shoved the case that contained assorted flavors of the icy dessert.

Knowing she might as well enjoy the gluttonous snacks while she could, Y/N skimmed her hand over them and picked out one of the mint chocolate mochis and stuffed it in her mouth. Unbeknownst to her, the man on her right was staring at her with a wide smile as she ate the ice cream. When she noticed, she gave him a puzzled look and scooted further away from him.

"You chose the mint chocolate flavor." He giddily stated.

"Yes....any problem with that?" She questioned.

San emitted happy squeals at that.

"I love mint chocolate flavor too! Don't you see Noona? This further proves that were soulmates and destined to be together!"

Without even asking or warning, he snuggled himself against her, an arm around her waist as he used her chest as a makeshift pillow. Coming back from the kitchen, Wooyoung glared at San when he saw how close he was with their manager.

"Hey! No fair. Don't hog Noona up for yourself. We promised to share!" He quickly jumped on the other side and tried to tangle himself around her, proving to be difficult when San was pushing him away. Y/N ended up being pulled and tugged from both sides as the boys fought amongst themselves for her. Fed up with their antics, she reached her hands over and smacked both of their thighs sharply, making them retreat away from her less they suffered more physical pain from her.

"I want both of you to stay at least an arm's length away from me if you're planning to stay here and watch a movie. And absolutely under no circumstances do I want either of your mouths opening to sputter nonsense and annoy me further...Got it?!"

Both of the idols scooted to either ends of the couch, each grabbing a nearby cushion to keep them company and to protect them in case they furthered irritated their off duty manager. Y/N took a deep breath as she rubbed the side of her temples, letting the boys pick out which movie they wanted to watch. She probably wouldn't even enjoy the movie with the two rascals nearby, she thought to herself. Wooyoung and San settled for a cute looking movie, both of them hoping that the fluffy contents would soften up Y/N so they could cuddle up next to her once more. The woman however cringed when she saw the title.

"Ugh. Wake me up when whatever chick flick you chose is over." She settled back onto the couch, her eyes already closing.

"Aww come on Noona, give it a try. You might even like it." San suggested.

"Romantic movies have never been my type." She mumbled out, her hand reaching out to take some of the popcorn on the table to stuff in her mouth.

The movie played out exactly as she expected it to. Nothing short of all the typical cliches and stereotypes portrayed on every single romantic comedy made in existence. The boys would often look back at her every few minutes, their faces getting more and more discouraged when their manager didn't seem to be enjoying their company. It seemed that their plan to get close to her backfired as she was currently resting her chin on her palms, dozing off slowly while not paying one bit of attention on the screen in front of her.

"Told you to pick a scary movie." San complained to his friend.

"Your chicken ass can't even handle them." Wooyoung side eyed him.

"Yeah, but jump scares serve as an excuse to hug the person next to you." He tilted his head over to Y/N.

"Nice move, saying your plan out loud for her to hear. You dumbass."

Taking the pillow he had, San chucked it at Wooyoung, knocking the snacks he was currently eating onto the floor. Grabbing the pillow, he made move to throw it once more, but Y/N held a hand up.

"Throw that cushion and I will choke you Jung Wooyoung."

The warned boy immediately sat the cushion back down, setting his hands down on his lap.

"Please do...."

Y/N's half lidded eyes sprung wide open when she heard his whisper. Slowly she turned her head at him, of course Wooyoung noticed out of the corner of his eye and swallowed harshly. He didn't think she was paying attention enough to hear him, but she was. Wooyoung soon felt flushed as she eyed him with an indiscernible stare, trying desperately to focus his attention on the movie in front of him but the heavy weight of her stare kept burning through him. Seeing as he wasn't going to say or do anything else, Y/N decided it would be fun to tease him like he'd often tease her. Sliding on top of him, to the surprise of not only Wooyoung but his friend on the other side, Y/N hummed softly as her fingers ran up his chest.

"Please do what Wooyoung? Choke you? Is that what you want? Want my hand wrapped around that pretty of neck of yours?"

The flustered male shuddered when her fingers encapsulated over the front of his neck, lightly applying pressure against his Adam's apple with her palm.

"Oh someone likes this a little too much." She chuckled as she subtly rolled her hips on his tent that formed as soon as she touched him.

"Please Noona.." Wooyoung squirmed underneath her body, hips trying to grind up against hers.

"I barely did anything and you're already begging for me. You're an even bigger whore than I thought you were." She let out an annoyed 'tsk' as she slowly began to get off his lap.

When Wooyoung felt her detaching herself, his hands came out to clasp her waist, keeping her firmly planted on his lap.

"Yes I am, I'm such a whore for you Noona. But please don't leave me here like this." He whined at her, looking completely pitiful as his hands desperately tried to keep her from moving. Y/N reached a hand out to toss some of the hair away from his forehead, her mind already working on ways to play around with the young male. Noticing that his eyes kept falling towards her chest, she suddenly got an idea.

"You like my breasts Wooyoungie?"

Her question caught him off guard, eyes widening, looking like a deer caught in headlights, especially after she called him by his nickname. He was beyond flustered, unable to look up at his manager anymore.

"I asked you a question Wooyoungie and I expect an answer or else I'll leave you hanging there and make you watch as I play with Sannie instead."

The forgotten male beside them became excited at hearing her words, his hand rubbing against his inner thigh, slowly creeping up to the bulge in his pants. Tilting his chin up to look at her, Y/N repeated her question once more, expecting him to reply as it was his last chance.

"Y-yes. I like your breasts very much Noona." He finally admitted.

Satisfied at getting an answer, Y/N pulled away from Wooyoung so she could start removing her shirt, both boys watching her without batting an eyelash. When her bra dropped on the floor, they both stared in awe at her voluptuous chest, mouths agape and nearly drooling at the sight.

"Fuck, they're just-wow." San chimed in, tongue wetting the center of his lips.

"You like them too Sannie? I always thought you were more of an ass guy." She commented with a knowing smile, recalling all the times he'd come up behind her and greet her with a pat on her bum.

"Oh hell yeah I am, but I'd never say no to an opportunity to suck on a pretty pair of tits." He acknowledged with no hesitation.

"Is that so? Well then."

Prying Wooyoung's hands off her, Y/N sat herself back in between the boys, hands cupping both of her breasts to gently massage them in her palms, fingers tweaking at her nipples which were slowly getting fully erect. The two men at her sides watched with hungry eyes, only imagining how soft and tender her breasts must feel, both wanting to replace her hands with their own. Unbeknownst to them, they were about to get a better offer.

"There's one for each of you my loves, so go ahead. Put your pretty mouths on them and suck on them. And maybe if you do good enough, I'll play more with you guys."

Wooyoung and San simultaneously looked at one another, both wondering if they heard her correctly or it was another perverted thought their mind played on them. Realizing it was not, San was the first one to be bold as he cupped the breast nearest to him and brought it up to his lips, where he proceeded to coat the areola with spit before he latching onto it.

"So you're more of a dirty boy, aren't you Sannie?" She mused at him, fingers brushing some of the bangs on his face.

San only responded by lifting his eyes momentarily to shoot a wink her way before indulging back in his task of suckling on her tit. Y/N turned her attention to Wooyoung, who was still nervously sitting there in a pliant manner. She beckoned for him to come closer.

"Wooyoungie, my other breast feels lonely."

Getting the hint, Wooyoung lowered himself and practically squished his face into her fleshy mound. As expected, he was very vocal, spewing out lewd sounds as he harshly sucked on her nipple, bringing in as much of her as he could possibly put in his mouth. Y/N laid her head back on the top of the couch, mouth drawing out heavy breaths and pants as she relaxed and enjoyed the sensation of the the younger male's mouths on her breasts, their tongues and teeth eagerly swirling and nibbling on her sensitive flesh. She noticed how both of them had completely different patterns. Whereas San's suckling was less intense, it was definitely more sloppy, spit dribbling down his chin and down her chest from all the insane movements his tongue worked on her nipple, each of them clearly focused on bringing her as much pleasure as possible. Wooyoung was definitely more intense and full of eagerness, but each swirl of his tongue or nibbling on her skin was less meditated and more like he was simply enjoying to taste the older woman, playing around with her breast as if it was a toy for him to fondle and tease as he pleased. Not that she minded, she loved being used as a toy by them both.

She became so lost in the feeling of their mouths on her body that she didn't notice the hands that had traveled in between her thighs until she felt them prying them open in an effort to slide her shorts and underwear down. She became somewhat self conscious when they managed to tear the rest of her clothing off, her legs closing tightly. Tapping a finger on her knee, San pulled off her nipple to say:

"Spread your legs for us and let us see that soaking cunt of yours."

Wooyoung was just as shocked as she was at his informal and vulgar words, but it certainly served to arouse her even more. Getting talked down to by someone younger than her..... it was definitely something. Giving him what he, and probably also his friend, wanted, she opened up her legs. Putting aside her gorgeous breasts for the meantime, the 2 pairs of eyes peered down at the sight below them, their Noona's folds glistening just for them and because of them, her tiny bud aching to be touched by their fingers. Signaling to his friend, San dipped his fingers down, swirling them around her clit before pressing down on it.

"Oh she's needy Wooyoung, I can feel it throbbing against my finger." San smirked as he lightly rubbed against her clit.

"Is our pretty Noona in need of our fingers? Does she want to get stuffed with them?" Wooyoung muttered against her ear, lips quick to muffle the moan that responded to his question. It was a sweet and tender kiss that was interrupted by San who tilted her chin towards him so that he could kiss her as well.

"Don't worry Noona. We'll make sure you're full and satisfied."

Y/N gasped as she felt both of their fingers slowly insert themselves into her slick and wet walls. Nudging to each other, their fingers started moving to and fro, eyes watching closely each facial expression that took over her features, reveling in the blissful sighs that were spilling out of her lips. Y/N couldn't keep herself from clenching tightly around their fingers, mesmerized by the sight of both of them fingering her tight little hole.

"Are you enjoying this Noona? Like having your tight pussy fucked by Sannie's finger and mine?" Wooyoung giggled, pushing his finger deeper into her, knuckles pressing against her mound which had her shuddering.

"Yes she is Wooyoungie, look at how much tighter she's becoming."

With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he looked at Wooyoung.

"Maybe we should stretch her out even further. Don't you think?" He suggested, to which Wooyoung agreed to with a grin.

With a sharp inhale, Y/N released a whimper when 2 extra fingers intruded into her intimate region, stretching her further. The pace with which they were thrusting their fingers into her increased, each of the boys jamming their fingers at different timings, making sure that their tips touched the hood of her sex, grazing that sweet spot of hers. Y/N was a whining and moaning mess. The boys were not giving her any chance to relax, when one set of fingers was pulling out of her, the other set was pushing back in, continuing its abuse on her g-spot. She felt her thighs starting to trembling, her lower stomach building up her climax by the second. Even with the 4 fingers parting her wide open, she was starting to squeeze around them, wrapping them up in a blanket of heat that would soon coat them with her release.

"Are you gonna cum Noona? Cum on Sannie's and my fingers?" Wooyoung cooed as he drove his fingers faster into her to help her reach her orgasm faster.

Y/N could only manage to nod slightly, eyes shutting tight, unable to register anything else save for the slippery and squealching sounds that came from between her thighs. She didn't feel San press his lips against her ear until his low voice spoke in that sexy satoori accent of his.

"Cum for us Noona. Cum all over us."

With his encouragement, she tipped over the edge, crying out loudly as her release started streaming down her body and onto their hands, dripping even down to their wrists. The boys were kind enough to continue filling her hole with their fingers, helping her ride out her orgasm until she came down from her high.

"Shit. Look at all the mess you made on us. Such a dirty dirty Noona." San taunted as he forced her to look down at their cum covered hands, which they both brought up to lick clean right in front of her.

"And you taste so delicious." Wooyoung added with star struck eyes.

Cupping both of their chins, she placed a peck on each of their lips.

"Thank you for that my darling boys, you made Noona feel amazing. It's only right Noona makes you both feel just as good."

Not forgetting about the throbbing needs in their pants, she ordered them to strip in front of her, an order they were eager to comply with. Through clumsy fumbling, a pile of clothes was added to the previously discarded garments from the woman in front of them. Y/N couldn't hide the satisfaction on her face as she gazed at their erect cocks, standing proudly, waiting to be touched and played with.

"Well I suspected my boys were big, but even the reality is nothing like what I imagined." The men flushed at her words, flattered by the knowledge that she had indeed thought about them in that way before.

"Wooyoungie, lie down right here." She patted the space next to her.

Following her instructions, Wooyoung placed himself where she wanted him, displaying himself out to her. Hovering above him, Y/N kissed along his defined abs, getting dangerously close to the tip of his cock, exciting him while the member behind them envied their close proximity. Y/N pulled her face away right before her lips could touch his head.

"As much as I'd love to suck your pretty little cock, I think there's something you'll enjoy even more babyboy."

The pet name followed by the image of her breasts enveloping his shaft between them was enough to drive Wooyoung wild as he realized what she had in mind.

"Oh fuck Noona- yes please." He was anxious about having her warm tits hug around his length and fuck him until they were coated in his cum.

"I knew you'd love the idea."

Glancing back at the neglected male, Y/N motioned for him to come over.

"And I have an idea for you too my precious Sannie. Since you seem to like my ass so much, how about you stuff that cock of yours in my cheeks and fuck yourself on them?"

San's eyes bulged out, his dick twitching when he heard those words. It was such an erotic, kinky and naughty idea and he was all up for it.

"Shit- fuck yeah." He wasted no time as he straddled Y/N's behind, slapping his cock on each of her asscheeks before prying them apart and laying his shaft in between them.

"Fuck yourself as you want Sannie and try to keep up with Wooyoung and I." She challenged him, which he was more than willing to take up.

Spitting down on Wooyoung's cock and her tits to properly lubricate them, she sandwiched his shaft in her pillowy and soft flesh before rubbing her tits up and down on him. Wooyoung was releasing gasp after gasp the more he felt and saw his member disappear and reappear from his Noona's glorious valley. Meanwhile behind her, San busied himself as he started rutting his cock against the firm but tender skin of her ass, groaning and grunting as he took advantage of the green light she gave him to go as hard as he wanted. Each time he slammed his hips up into her, he basked in the visual of her plump ass cheeks rippling with each of his thrusts.

"Oh God." San exclaimed, one hand coming down to strike one of Y/N's cheeks, causing her to jolt forward in surprise, her stiff nipples rubbing against Wooyoung's shaft.

"Shit! San- be gentle with Noona." He whined, his eyes still focused on the silky sensation of Y/N's boobs hugging him.

"It's ok Wooyoung. I know Noona liked it. She likes it rough. Watch."

Raising his hand once more, it came back down to spank the same spot he had previously hit, a light pink hue starting to appear on her skin. Y/N tried and failed to contain a whimpered moan from her lips, spit dripping out and falling on Wooyoung's tip.

"Shit Noona, are you really into freaky shit?" He asked in astonishment.

"She's literally letting two younger guys fuck her tits and ass, how much more reassurance do you need?" San pointed out as he squeezed at her ass, riding her backside with more intensity.

"She's just a dirty kinky whore, allowing us to use her body this way. And then she's gonna let us cover her in our cum cause she's that slutty."

Y/N groaned at his words, her tongue poking out to lick at Wooyoung's slit each time it peeked out through the valley of her enormous tits.

"Fuck to paint Noona's tits with my cum-" Wooyoung hissed, teeth tugging at his bottom lip.

"You wanna do that for me? Cum on my big boobs baby boy?" She chuckled when she felt Wooyoung's cock twitch against her skin.

He couldn't answer her as another one of San's slaps along with his frenzied grinding thrusted her forward, making her and the boy below her exclaim in surprise.

"You're not cumming without me. You better hold it." San warned through gritted teeth, nails digging into her flesh as he violently rammed his cock between her fleshy and plump folds.

Y/N looked down at poor Wooyoung's face, looking so distraught as he fought hard not to cum right then and there. Leaning down, Y/N gave his tip a few kitten licks before resuming to squish her breasts on his length.

"It's ok Wooyoungie. San forgets his not in charge here. I am. So cum for me baby boy. Cum all over your Noona's tits." She softly said to him.

With shuddering whines and whimpers, Wooyoung threw his head back, eyebrows furrowed as thick streams of cum erupt from his tip, his orgasmic bliss so overwhelming, lasting longer due to Y/N continuing to rapidly push up and down his cock, milking him out of the last drop of cum he had left in his body.

"That's it. That's my good little boy, keep cumming just like that." She praised him, watching with excitement as his seed plastered itself on the top of her cleavage, some of it even splashing onto her cheeks and chin.

"That's so fucking hot- Oh my God-"

After watching the scene play out in front of him, San felt a familiar tightness in his balls, his tip starting to swell up. Before he could even register it, he was already pumping his own cum all over Y/N's ass and lower back, sputtering out incoherent words as he did so. He ended up collapsing on the couch, energy completed drained after all that, same as his friend who was still laying still on the other side. Meanwhile Y/N grabbed the box of tissues that was on the coffee table and pulled a few of them out so she could clean herself and the boys up. Starting with Wooyoung, she wiped in between his thighs, picking up the remainder of whatever was left of his cum before turning to San and cleaning up his body as well. Once both of the boys were cleaned up, she grabbed a couple more tissues to use on herself. She was distracted when she heard both of them start giggling out of nowhere.

"What's so funny?" She asked them, looking at San and then at Wooyoung, both of them donning a suspicious smile.

"So Noona does like younger men..."

[beccascribbles]

hi! can i ask for a scenario where ushijima, tsukki, kenma said something maybe out of the line that hurt your feelings and you just give them the silent treatment or become distant?? then like how they'd react to it and stuff :) thank you vm, have a good day 🙈

a/n - sorry this took me so long to write (and post). anyway, i hope you enjoy it. it was my first time writing for kenma so i'm not sure if i portrayed him right but let me know what you think!

"you're acting like a child," he sighs, pushing you away from him. your arms fall to your sides, missing the feeling of ushijima's warm body. "stop being so clingy. it's annoying"

you knew he was honest, but there is a time and a place for him to voice his opinion on your affection, and in front of his friends was not one of them

all you had wanted to do was give him a hug in greeting. yes, you may have stayed attached to him longer than was necessary but you had barely seen him all day

"okay," you say, turning on your heel and walking away. you don't even bother saying goodbye, too hurt and annoyed to bother

ushijima's brows furrow in confusion as he watches you walk away. tendou is watching the scene with wide eyes, fighting the urge to snicker

"did i do something wrong?" ushijima questions, staring after your receding figure. tendou finally does let out a snort, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth when ushijima turns to look at him

it is semi who gives ushijima's shoulder a squeeze in reassurance, though his eyes hold slight judgement as he says, "you hurt their feelings because you were being too blunt. you should probably apologise"

ushijima nods and then follows after your figure, his strides lengthening to catch up with you

his hand, warm and large, encloses around your own as he catches up to you, matching your pace

you remain silent, choosing to ignore his presence beside you

the silence settles between you, heavy and unwanted. though his mouth opens to form words, he can't bring himself to say anything. maybe it's his stubbornness, but he can't see how his words may have hurt you when they were the truth

"now who's being clingy?" you mumble angrily, yanking your hand from his grip and increasing your pace. your arms cross over your chest so he can't take your hand again. this increase in pace doesn't bother him and he easily matches it

he is persistent, irritatingly so. when he follows you into your room, you almost snap. instead, you silently fume, collapsing onto your bed and turning away from him. he watches your figure, expression holding slight confusion

"why are you ignoring me?"

you stay silent, stubbornly staring at the wall instead of him. when the mattress dips slightly under his weight, you scoot closer to the wall. his frown deepens

"what did i do wrong?" he questions, and you let out a sigh at how oblivious he is. "i was just being honest..."

your scowl deepens, especially when you feel him rest his hand on your back soothingly, rubbing circles into it. it is ushijima's turn to sigh as he looks at you

"i'm sorry if my words hurt you," he admits, the words causing you to turn slightly to look at him. his expression is as stoic as usual, though his eyes soften when they meet yours

"i just wish you had more of a filter sometimes, toshi," you explain, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. you hug your knees to your chest, head tilting to look at him. "i know you tend to say what you're thinking but i sometimes wonder if you understand how what you say can effect other people. you called me a child, clingly, annoying. that's hurtful, toshi. you probably didn't mean it like that but you did hurt my feelings. i hadn't seen you all day and, when i hugged you, you told me that?"

"i'm sorry," he says again, a slight frown to his face as he considers your words. his arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his body. "i'll try to think about my words before i say them from now on"

he hugs you tight, and you relax in his hold, savouring the closeness

it's normal for him to send a teasing remark your way, just as it's normal for you to return the favour

however, today, his words hit a little too close to home, targeting an insecurity he wasn't aware of

you were frowning down at the maths sheet in front of you, brows furrowed as you struggled to work out the problems

you never usually felt inferior in terms of academics, but, right now, as you struggled to work out what was relatively simple maths, it started to grate at you

tsukishima wasn't really helping the issue. he seemed oblivious to your stressing, leaning back in his chair as he nodded his head along to the music

his eyes slid over to you, to your figure scribbling away on the paper. he pulled his headphones off, shooting you a teasing grin (though this went unnoticed by you)

his voice, light and teasing, cut through your focus, the words immediately putting you on edge

"if you focus any harder, you're going to be even more stupid than you already are"

your lips pursed but he went on, oblivious to your discomfort

"i can actually see the last bits of your intelligence leaving yout skull." this was punctuated by his finger giving your forehead a poke

you flinched away from him, a scowl lining your features. mumbling under your breath a number of unflattering things, you gathered your work and shoved it into your bag

"where are you going?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his chair, eyes filled with confusion and a bit of concern

you ignored him, pushing open the classroom door, deciding to head to the library to get away from him

for the rest of the day, tsukishima's attempts to speak to you were met with stony silence

so, naturally, he got annoyed, pissed off, and decide to ignore you to

it got to the point where both of you were simply staring through the other as if they weren't there when in a group situation, which was awkward for everyone involved

it was kageyama who told you to get your shit together, while hinata and yamaguchi could only agree

"i will when he apologises for being a dick," you said to kageyama, while tsukishima's eyes narrowed into a glare

"what the fuck," he snapped. "you've been giving me the cold shoulder all day and it's somehow my fault? bullshit"

you spun to face him, arms crossing over your chest. you spat, "you called me stupid when i was stressing over my math work. was i supposed to say thanks? fine. thank you, kei, that was really fucking helpful"

"what?" he blinked, looking at you im confusion. yes, he had teased you. but, he assumed you would know that he had been joking. if he had thought you were struggling, he would of helped you

as this was happening, your friends had edged away to give you some privacy. this was why tsukishima felt fine in admitting this to you

"if i thought you were struggling, you know i would have helped you." his hand reached out to take your hand, finger stroking your knuckles as his eyes met yours

you let out a frustrated sigh, your resolve crumbling. "i know... sorry for being a bit of a brat about it. i should've just told you that you had hurt me"

"yeah, you should've," he teased, pulling you closer to him. his lips pressed against your forehead in apology for getting annoyed at you in. "but, it's fine"

when you came over that weekend, he was busy gaming, like he usually was

ordinarily, when you walked through the door, he would start to wrap up the game, saying goodbye to who he was in the call with

today, however, was slightly different

he was playing a particularly difficult story game, which he had been struggling to complete all week (his choices, much to his frustration, kept getting the character killed)

therefore, you could understand why he was engrossed enough to only give you a simple greeting, a nod of the head

expecting him to only take an hour at maximum (you were content to just be in his company), you relaxed on the bed and pulled out your phone. two hours later, he had still not said a word to you

you sat up on the bed, moving towards him to drape yourself over the back of his chair, resting your head on his shoulder

"kenma..." you said, drawing out his name slightly, "are you almost finished?"

"urgh, just fuck off," he sighed, shrugging your arms off of him. "can't you see i'm busy?"

"fine," you snapped, stepping away from him and heading towards the bedroom door. you pushed it open and let it slam shut behind him

for a moment, you paused, waiting to see if he would react, maybe realise what he said was wrong. instead, the room remained painfully still

when it became clear he was not coming out to find you, you straightened and walked out of the house

kenma didn't realise you were avoiding him for a couple days until he picked up his phone to see no messages from you

it became clear that you were making every effort to avoid him when you made no effort to see him in person

he got so confused as to why you were clearly distancing yourself from him that he went to kuroo

it was after talking with his friend that he realised he had been insensitive and rude

however, you were hard to get alone, using every excuse avaliable to you to get out of spending time with your boyfriend

the whole thing was frustrating, to say the least. he missed you (though don't expect him to openly admit it)

it took him saying 'i'm sorry' rather loudly in a public area for you to turn to face him

your pause gave him the chance to grab your hand, to keep you anchored to him in case you left again

"sorry, are you?" you asked, head cocked slightly. "not a nice feeling, being ignored, is it?"

you would admit you were being a bit bratty, but, to be fair, he deserved

naturally, kenma didn't bother to reply, but it was fine, the gentle way he squeezed your fingers and the quick kiss he brushed to the side of your head more than enough to convey his apology

[doubledgesword-2]

Can I get Vil Schoenheit x Rival Celebrity? They shoot insults at each other but end up flirting? Take it as far as you want! Any gender reader is fine lol

Oh, ma Gooosh!! This is the first Matcha Tea I've gotten, and I'm all for this. I had so much fun with this one, and I want to show you lil' sugar cubes the difference between characters I know and the ones that I don't. I do my research before writing a character that I'm unfamiliar with, but I will be sincere: I butchered the last request (Shalnark's). I will try to rewrite it, but other characters apart from the stated ones are a bit hard for me ( ˘︹˘ ).

I will always try my best for ya'll! Enjoy this steaming Matcha (❛‿❛✿)

“What a shameless potato,” nimble fingers scrolled down on their phone, looking at the menagerie of pictures from one single account: yours.

You and Vil were from the same industry, just not the same department per se. While he was a model and actor, you were a j pop star and actress. Your popularity and his were on the same level, but he was slightly higher if you asked him or his fans. Ever since the two of you met on set for a fantasy-like movie, you repelled each other’s presence like oil and water.

Amethyst eyes glared at your smiling picture, and a thousand critiques passed through his mind. Your make-up did not complement your features; what was your make-up artist thinking? That nail polish didn’t match with your skin, and your haircut didn’t go with your face and countless other thoughts. But that wasn’t his place to tell, and besides, you living in his head rent-free wasn’t good for his skin. Stress kills, and thinking about you was very stressful.

The subway doors opened, and Vil gripped his side bag, adjusting his beret and sunglasses and walking out with the amount of confidence and power it took to walk down the runway. The sea of people diligently coming and going parted for him without a cue. They just did like mindless fish around a predator. It was in their nature to give in, in the presence of something so regal.

Vil had a photoshoot to go, and he couldn’t miss a beat. His agenda was full and complicated; anyone who tried to follow it would surely lose their minds after the first three days of the same arduous pace. But he could handle it with the grace of a swan. He was the great Vil Shoenheit. He wondered if you could handle a week in his shoes. You probably would drop exhausted and disheveled, complaining about the hard work. The thought made him smirk smugly, and passerby fans who recognized him couldn’t even keep up to ask for an autograph.

He just couldn’t fathom how you had such a fan base with your attitude and manners. Sure, in front of the cameras, you were a sweetheart, stealing everyone’s hearts, singing like an empowered angel, and making them think you were as far from the villain he knew you truly were. Vil knew your kind and recognized it the moment he met you on set. Heck, you couldn’t even contain your disdain in interviews when the two of you had to sit side by side. It was uncomfortable, to say the least; the poor reporter was so painfully awkward trying to alleviate the tenseness in the room.

“So (Y/N), how do you feel being an actress in a big-budget movie while also singing and performing the next week? Is it exhausting?”

You sided glared at Vil, and gave the reporter a smug grin. “Well, I think I can handle a little bit of work. It’s not in me to sit around and look pretty, you know. But then again, I guess that’s what some people are into, so we can’t judge them. They might not understand hard work.”

Vil smiled with closed eyes. You were such an amateur. If it weren’t for the fact that you were actively throwing shade on him and being so annoying at it, too, he might think you were cute.

Of course, Vil wouldn’t back down; that’s not what he was taught. The crown was his, and he would take it with hard work and determination. Which means potatoes like you don’t really matter in the long run of things.

“Vil-senpai, how do you manage your modeling gig and your acting? I mean, it must be hard to run from one event to the next since they’re so close behind each other?”

“Well, dear, we models are more than just a pretty face. We represent big companies and events that many couldn’t even fathom getting into. My schedule might be a bit tight, but I was born into this lifestyle, and I have learned many skills to help me move and work in these types of environments. I can say one thing for sure not a lot of people can handle my agenda, one day in my heels, and they might slip if you know what I mean, darling.”

You scoffed under your breath, and it made Vil’s smile grow wider.

“Ahh, Vil-senpai is a hard worker for sure. Perhaps one day I could do an interview that can provide insight to one day of your agenda.”

“Anytime you want, darling, it would be lovely,” he knew with every word that came out of his mouth; you simmered even more.

“Are there any hobbies or activities that can fit into your schedules?

Vil was about to open his mouth when you beat him to it.

“Well, I don’t think he’s allowed to have any, you know, with his busy schedule. But I do love partaking in (hobby). I think it is a nice way to unwind and take my mind off of everything. Since stress it’s not good for your vocals, you know. I try to keep myself in top shape for my lovely fans.”

Vil was raging. How dare you interrupt him when he was clearly about to talk. Didn’t your parent taught you any manners, or are you so much of a spoiled brat to care for?

“Ahh, interesting. Does Vil Sendai have any hobbies in particular?

“As a matter of fact, I do” you were looking at him with an expectant smirk. You were genuinely curious to hear what he had to say. “I like to make beauty and make-up tutorials that are beneficial for a lot of my fans. I like to show them how to use brushes correctly what and what not to do with concealer. Those are bonding moments for me and my fans. I think they are important.”

At the end of that interview, a single question brought the anger and tense meter to burst. Now the tensions and dislikes weren’t palpable. They were visible.

“Oh, I’ve had some partners, but I like to focus more on my work, unlike some other artists who like to jump around; my projects come first, and I don’t want to ruin my partner’s and I relationship by not spending enough time with them.”

“Wow, he really doesn’t like to have fun.”

“I do just not with the likes of you.”

“Come on, pretty boy, you couldn’t handle me even if you were begging pretty on your knees.”

“Dream on, potato, you might be prettier than most potatoes, but you’re still that a potato with some potential. I bet if push came to shove, you wouldn’t last seconds with me.

“I bet you wouldn’t make it into the second round without having to retouch your make-up with me. Besides, it’s not like you’ll last long enough to even sweat that much.”

“Well, that’s a relief to know I wouldn’t have to put much effort into pleasing someone like you.”

The reporter was utterly flushed, and that was cut from the interview recording. Good thing that it was, or people might’ve gotten the wrong impression. That you liked each other or something.

Or something.

After that interview, rumors spread like they always do, and fans started gossiping about the two of you secretly together but having to hate each other in public to save face since it’s a big rumor that singers and models don’t actually go well together in the industry.

Such wild imagination and machinations fans have. It brought out a small chuckle.

Vil passed through the automatic doors telling the receptionist his name and guiding him to the set. Once there, he settled his stuff over the make-up table and sat back to look once more through his phone.

“Have you seen this?” A text notification annoying appeared on the screen.

Vil tch and opened the message to reveal a very well photoshopped photo of him and you sitting and drinking at some café. You were smiling like he just told you you were beautiful, and it was a good look on you.

This was outrageous. Who would go to such lengths? Suddenly a bag dropped right on the table next to him. He looked up to meet your eyes as you took off your sunglasses, slowly realizing who was sitting beside you.

“Oh no,” you faintly muttered underneath your breath but not faintly enough that Vil couldn’t hear you.

He scoffed and went back to look at the stupid picture, texting his manager as mad as he was.

“Oh, you saw it too,” you commented, sitting down and looking at your own phone.

Vil didn’t answer. He really didn’t care about your opinion on this; his credibility was on the line. He was supposed to hate you, and that’s how things should go.

“Well, at least they got a good angle of my face, not to mention I’m actually smiling for once.”

“Actually, smil- what are you talking about potato? All you do is smile in all of your pictures. That’s why you have to hide your wrinkles with make-up,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Well, as presumptuous as that was, proud little peacock, I actually never smile genuinely for the cameras. My genuine smile is reserved for good moments. I guess not anymore.”

At that, Vil felt like the two of you clicked. He knew the feeling, the invasive nature of fame, and the lack of privacy was very real in the industry. It’s the first thing you have to get through. But listening to you say made him realize you’re just like him.

“Well, if you behave during the shoot, I might feel inclined to reward you for good behavior” he grinned at you.

“Mmm, you make it sound as if you don’t like the way I make you crumble in front of everyone. It’s like you’re denying yourself the pleasure, and here I thought you liked the masochism.”

“Hahahaha, I’ll step on you once we’re done here. Maybe that and a little bit of discipline will put you in your place. However, your lack of manners and running mouth might be a problem; perhaps all you need is a nice pacifier. I can help with that.”

You both were so close to each other muttering salacious threats that you didn’t realize how flustered everyone else was in the room.

It was going to be another one of those shoots.

[aerosiderwrites]

Yandere Kaeya obsessed with a fwb hcs

warnings for implied not safe for work, and genre typical unhealthy portrayals of relationships, mentions of kidnapping

Word Count: 1k

Kaeya, has issues that make it difficult for him to seek out and maintain relationships. Most of them having to do with fearing abandonment, self-centeredness, and emotional distance. He’s really only been keeping people at a solid distance away, and would be confident that he could maintain that.

With that said, he wouldn’t realize his obsessive nature until he was in too deep. He’d justify everything to himself, and even with a moment of clarity, he’d shove it down, wanting to keep the person he loves close, by any means necessary

I do absolutely think he would start a friends with benefits arrangement as the type who would think he could avoid catching feelings, because he’s good at it. Hell, you probably aren’t his first fwb or the only one he has that kind of relationship with when you guys start hooking up.

That’s due to change pretty quick though, if he’s with other people, that means less time with you. If you ask about it though, he’ll just say he’s too busy to juggle that many entanglements, and coyly say you’re his favorite.

He enjoys you in bed, and he enjoys your company, unfortunately for you both though, he starts thinking about how much he’d enjoy it if you were his completely

Once the feeling floodgate has opened, he finds it difficult to deny himself.

Kaeya is painfully aware of the fragility and openness of your relationship, and starts by testing the waters to see how you’d receive being in a serious committed relationship.

You see him around a bit more, he touches you more when the two are out and about. Nothing too intimate, but still pushes the boundary a little he’s good at knowing your limits. If you call him on it he’ll only tease and play it off.

Something he realizes pretty quick is how he starts to resent seeing you around others. It’s a further reminder that you are probably openly seeking out other people at any given point.

He’ll tell you whatever he feels like he needs to tell you to deter you from people you could be interested in, he’s your friend first and foremost after all.

He’ll begin following you around without an intention to approach you, watching as you go about your day. He justifies this to himself by telling himself he isn’t busy anyway (he is), and he’s wanting to see if you listen to him and his judgement.

You’d probably be able to pick up that he’s caught feelings for you pretty easily, based exclusively on how he treats you during you during sex.

In the early phases of falling into obsession, he’d want you to become addicted to him, to deter you from looking anywhere else. He’d focus on your pleasure more.

If you don’t figure out he’s really into you by the way the pillow talk starts to last longer, how he comes over more often, and even stays the whole night... man I do not know what to tell you.

How this goes from here depends on you. If you reciprocate his feelings and get together with Kaeya, then all is good. He’ll be a jealous and protective boyfriend, but he will have kept himself in check, and congrats he won’t snap unless you try to break up with him.

If you don’t want him like that and also end your arrangement... good luck getting rid of him.

At the time, he will coolly accept that you feel that way, and says he’s sorry to hear that and leave.

You’ll think you’re okay for a while, but Kaeya has backed off only to scheme. He can’t get out of his own head, and your rejection makes him realize how much of mess you’ve made him. He knew this was a possibility, but in his eyes, he did everything right. So now he’s convinced something’s wrong with you. He loves you, so he’s going to help you.

He’s pretty patient, and he’s determined that the ends are worth the means. You will love him too, and you will stay by his side forever. He has his fears, but he’s got a long con set up by the time he approaches you again that is too good to fail.

First, he’ll make sure you guys stay friends. Even if it’s awkward at first, he is nothing if not persistent, and will remind you through your interactions that you did start off friends.

He’s going to find a way to manipulate every aspect of your life. He’s a well connected guy, and he’s good at talking people into doing what he wants, and if words don’t work, he IS the Cavalry Captain. He is not above violence in the slightest.

If you’re an adventurer or a fellow Knight, you’ll find that the commissions you’re sent on are a lot more difficult, and he’s coincidentally been dealing with completely separate problems in the same area as you.

He’ll look cool when he so dashingly saves you from danger, and reliable when help you take care of your wounds. This will continue until you somehow sustain an injury serious enough to keep you in Mondstadt, where Kaeya will so generously offer to help take care of you.

If you work within Mondstadt, you would find yourself unemployed. He’s basically scared off any of your other friends, so Kaeya is painted as your savior again when he helps you get on your feet or provide a place to stay.

Once you’ve begun to rely on him, he’ll hint his feelings haven’t left, and “tease” that you basically owe him at this point.

If he has worn you down, then great, now Kaeya is your boyfriend, and he’s a bit worse than if you said yes the first time. He’s isolated you socially, and made you dependent on him. Leaving him is hardly going to be an option at this point.

Finally, if you say no once again... He’s taking you. Give it a day or two max. He’s snapped, and he’s now going to bring out the longer con, where you stay in his room with no way out ever again.

He’ll have you framed for a crime (probably one of his own), and will have you arrested. While locked up, he’ll finish his preparations, and convince the other Knights he’ll deal with you himself.

Third time’s a charm, I guess.

[cafeacademia]

Guardian | Chapter One

Draco Malfoy x Muggleborn!Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter Summary: As you navigate your fifth year at Hogwarts, you reflect on the things that have led you this far and you begin to wonder if your complicated friendship with Draco holds more meaning than you originally anticipated.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, some friendly teasing, mentions of Umbridge’s punishments, description of harm to a student, comfort, fluff.

Word count: Approx 4000 (oopsies)

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, here’s the first full part of the series! Please check out the Prologue if you’re new to the series, it gives some general setting up for the story and explains how this soulmate AU works. Enjoy! 💖

Flashbacks are separated using *** and use of the soulmate book is highlighted in italics

Previous Part | Next part

(Gif is my own)

Sitting in the library, Neville was not far from the desk you were sat at as he scoured the shelves for a copy of a book about rare magical properties in plants while you were trying to work on your final Potions essay for the term. “This feels impossible.” You yawned, slouching over your four parchment rolls of completed essay. All you really had to do now was make a conclusion, but your brain was wandering after a few hours of working on your homework and it just wasn’t happening. “That’s incredible.” Neville whispered to himself and you couldn’t help but breathe out a short laugh, looking over your shoulder to see that he was fully engrossed in the book he had pulled off the shelf.

Putting your quill down, you looked down at your hand, eyes trailing over the little bandage wrap you wore over the mark left from the detention you had served the previous evening with Umbridge. It was still sore and it felt very tender, but you tried your best to keep it hidden under the bandage and the sleeve of your school jumper. Slowly, your mind wandered towards what Draco might be up to. You hadn’t spoken to him in months since you had started in your fifth year and you’d had less of desire to do so now that he was in the Inquisitorial Squad. And your thoughts paced back to your fourth year when you had started to share a bit of a friendship with him.

***

“You’re fraternizing with the enemy, you are.” Ron scoffed. “I am not.” You frowned at him. “Oi, shove off would you? I know you don’t like the little git, but he seems to like our girl, isn’t that right George?” Fred asked, looking over your head to his twin who was standing on the other side of you. “That’s right Fred, maybe he’s got a crush on you.” He chuckled, nudging you in the side. “Ah, young love.” Fred sighed, garnering a multitude of reactions between Ron sounding utterly disgusted to Ginny’s amused laughter. “Draco is just being friendly.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh Draco is it now? Not Malfoy anymore eh?” Fred teased.

“He’s such a git, Malfoy’s not worth your time anyway, he’s probably just using you or something.” Ron argued and for once, Hermione gave Ron an agreeing nod. “Besides, since when is Malfoy nice to anyone?” Hermione asked, Fred and George giving each other a look, they were a little more accepting than the others, but with the question raised even the twins wondered if there wasn’t another motivation there.

Sighing, you leaned back against the wall of the quad and glanced over at Neville, who had just been quietly listening to the conversation without saying a word, but the look on his face told you that he felt the same as the rest of your friends. The problem was, while you really, truly valued their opinion and you understood that they were trying to look out for you, albeit with a little tough love on Ron’s end, you knew there was something there between you and Draco but you just couldn’t seem to find the words to describe it.

Was it friendship? Was it some kind of connection deeper than that? Whatever it was, Draco seemed to become a different person around you. He was more genuine, more open, more himself and oddly, you were starting to feel like he really valued your attention and your opinion.

“You shouldn’t be giving him the satisfaction.” Ron went on, Harry now wandering over to join the group and you heaved out a sigh because you knew as soon as he joined in, the two of them would be going on about how much of ‘bloody git’ Draco was. “Give who the satisfaction?” Harry asked. “Malfoy.” Ron replied in a disgruntled tone. “Fine,” You gritted out. “Then I won’t give either of you the satisfaction, Ronald.” You suddenly burst out, everyone looking at you as if you had grown a second head from your sudden outburst. “What’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He asked, a little bewildered.

But as the days passed, your friends started to realise what you had meant by that statement. Your little chats with Draco seemed to have halted entirely, and you didn’t speak a word about your budding friendship with the Slytherin. It was as if you had completely forgotten it had ever happened and your friends were starting to wonder if you were sneaking off to talk to him without any prying eyes, but of course there was no way they could prove it.

You valued their concern, you appreciated it in fact, but stupid or not you couldn’t deny that you felt a pull towards Draco. So you removed all indication that there was any interaction with Draco at all and it became quickly apparent to you, that maybe it was safer to just have a friendship with Draco in secret, especially as you weren’t too fond of the attention that being around the Slytherin Prince brought you.

You couldn’t deny, the secret meetings with Draco felt a little wrong, purely because you knew you’d get an absolute earful from Ron if he ever found out. But you still loved spending time with Draco, because out of everyone you had ever spent time with, Draco seemed to really value your company, be it quiet or more talkative. He seemed to understand when there were days that you just didn’t want to say a lot or you were more shy than usual and he understood that it was okay to enjoy silent company, but he also enjoyed it when you had energetic days and you wanted to chat about whatever came to mind.

***

“Are you listening?” Neville asked, leaning over your chair. “Hm?” You suddenly looked up at him, a little bit startled from being pulled away from your thoughts. “If we don’t hurry up, we’re going to be late for Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Neville warned and you pulled a face of worry before you hurried to pack away your things.

“Thank Merlin.” Neville mumbled as you both practically ran up the stairs to your classroom, seeing that there was a line of students waiting outside of the room, telling you that either you were just on time or Umbridge was late, though you thought the latter to be unlikely when she liked to go on about punctuality so often.

As you joined the line, Draco Malfoy made his way up the stairs, stopping when he reached you and pushed his way into the queue, though he was careful not to push you. And while Neville was busy catching up with Susan Bones who was standing on the other side of him, Draco leaned in and whispered to you.

“Meet me after class?” He asked. “Promise no funny business, just you and me.” He murmured and you tentatively glanced up at him. “This isn’t about you know what, is it?” You asked quietly. Draco knew what you were referring to. He knew you would be worried that he might try and pry some information out of you about the DA. Checking from side to side with a quick look, he held up his hand in front of you and pointed his ring finger at you. “I promise, it’s just like our old chats.” He whispered, glancing down to see you smiling, realising he was attempting a pinky promise. “Alright, but you’re using the wrong finger.” You had to refrain from giggling and instead, you shyly hid your smile as best as you could. Hesitantly you raised your hand, almost too shy to even touch him, but you pulled his little finger free and linked it with your own. “Sorry, I always forget which finger it is, muggle promises are strange.” Draco mumbled.

It wasn’t long before Umbridge finally poked her head out of the classroom and invited everyone in.

Draco sighed as he slouched down in his chair with his arms crossed in the drier than normal Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Umbridge was particularly boring to listen to as she droned on about a test you’d all be taking soon.

Instead, his focus was trained on the notebook that peeked out of the top of his bag that sat under his desk. He wished he could pick the book up and leaf through the pages, idly reading your handwriting, take in your thoughts and feelings and remind himself of days before now. Sometimes Draco wished that he could outright approach you and tell you that it was him, that he was your soulmate, but really that would be quite a bad move.

Draco wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to actually tell you, perhaps there was something that would prevent him from doing so or some sort of consequence and he was especially wary of this since his fourth year at Hogwarts when Pansy Parkinson had involved herself.

***

“What is that tatty old thing anyway? And why do you always brandish it about like a... a trophy or something?” She had asked with a judgemental edge to her tone, stealing it right out of Draco’s lap. The boy had nearly thrown himself across the common room at her as she hurried off with it. “I bet it’s a diary.” She giggled to herself. “Yeah, or he keeps secrets in there.” Crabbe added as he joined her. “That’s what a diary is, you dolt.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Draco stormed towards the pair of them, his heart racing with fear as he watched Pansy teasingly open the cover of the book. However, much to Pansy’s surprise and even more so to Draco’s, there wasn’t a single word, not a single drop of ink, no markings, nothing. The book was completely empty. “You really carry around an empty book?” Pansy questioned, sceptical with her upper lip curled in disappointment. “What did you expect, my heartfelt feelings?” Draco scoffed, his tone cold and sarcastic as he snatched the book back from her, trying not to appear too hurt that his book had been handled roughly. “I’m to keep it safe. Father sent it to me.” Draco lied through his teeth, but thankfully, his lies were hard to detect, even for someone who knew Draco’s tactics to uphold his image and Pansy just pulled an expression that told him that she thought it was weird.

***

But now, as he sat in class, Draco could still see the small dent in the leather cover that Pansy had caused when she’d roughly stolen it from his grasp. He was still angry about it even a year later, perhaps it was irrational to be so annoyed about damage to a book, but this was special and he remembered how very upset he had felt that someone other than him had held the book. It was precious, vulnerable and he treasured it.

But it wasn’t just the book that he treasured. No, what he considered to be more important, more precious and something truly wonderful in every aspect was you. Which was why he had started to slowly distance himself from you. But as Draco looked up to see you sitting a few rows ahead of him in the middle of the classroom, the thing that reminded him of why he wanted to see you peeked out from under your jumper sleeve. Your hand was bandaged and Draco was quite angry with himself, because the night before when you had unknowingly written to him in your book and told him that a teacher had hurt you during detention, Draco had immediately known what it meant and he was livid.

“Attention, mister Malfoy.” Umbridge practically shrieked across the classroom, slamming her hand down onto the front desk, disturbing the Friday afternoon gloom and making everyone in the room jump at her sudden raised voice before she gave him a forced smile. Draco lazily sat up in his seat, eyes flitting to you every time Umbridge turned away to write or point at something on the blackboard as his mind wandered throughout the rest of the lesson.

When the class finally came to an end and Professor Umbridge excused you all to enjoy the rest of your Friday evening, Draco left the classroom and leaned against the wall outside until the very last person left the room.

Draco gave you a subtle smile before he very quickly peeked around the doorframe to see that Umbridge was climbing the stairs to her office before he turned to look at you and give you a proper smile. “I’m so sorry it’s been months, it’s bloody difficult with her around, it’s like she’s everywhere.” Draco sighed, rolling his eyes as he pushed away from the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I understand, everyone is on high alert at the moment.” You replied in a quiet tone, almost too afraid to speak up as Draco began to walk you down the stairs, having avoided the eyes of all of your classmates and hopefully any spying caretakers too.

You were anxious to be spending time with Draco after all of this time. Especially as now he was part of the Inquisitorial Squad and part of you was afraid that your friends had been right last year. What if he did try to use you? But Draco had not yet betrayed your trust and you firmly believed in giving him the benefit of the doubt, you just hoped you weren’t doing it at your own expense.

“Come, we can talk in here.” Draco stepped into a hidden little alcove that was behind a statue at the side of the staircase. It was unlikely anyone would stop long enough to be able to hear you both talking and no one could see you hidden around the corner either.

“Was she hard on you yesterday?” Draco whispered his eyes softening as he watched you give him a little nod. “Yeah, a little.” You replied. “How did you know?” You queried, shyly looking up at him. “Pansy told me she caught you and Neville yesterday.” He explained and you just gave him a little nod. It wasn’t an outright lie, Pansy had told him she’d caught some students, but she never said who, it was only until you confided in your soulmate that it had happened that he knew you must have been in the group that Parkinson had caught. He watched as you slowly lifted your hand and pulled up your jumper sleeve to show him the bandage.

“Can I see?” Draco asked softly, gently taking your hand into both of his, holding you so softly like he was afraid he could hurt you with just his tender touch. You nodded, Draco leaning down to catch the way your eyes seemed to be filled with shame and you glanced at him, only for a second with a watery gaze.

Slowly and as carefully as he could, Draco unwrapped your bandage, reading the words that had been carved into your hand. “Oh love, I’m sorry, I should have been there to stop it from happening.” Draco sounded like he was scolding himself as he apologised, the emotions reaching his eyes as they swam deep in worry.

“It’s alright, I knew I’d end up in detention with her eventually.” You sighed, watching as Draco gently held your hand in his. He couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make his stomach turn horribly. It sickened him to no end and part of the reason he had joined the Inquisitorial Squad in the first place was with the hopes that he might be able to protect you better from that position. Not that he would let on to that, though.

“Does it hurt still?” He asked. “It still stings a bit and it’s sore.” You told him, your eyes saddened as you looked down at the writing you had tried so hard to conceal all day, not just because you were ashamed of what Umbridge had done, but because you simply could not bear to look at it. Would it always be there? You wondered if it would serve as a constant reminder and you hoped that with time that it would fade, but you couldn’t help the worry that sat deep in your stomach that the mark would remain long after healing and you hoped at the very least, that it would not make your stomach turn every time you looked at it.

“I’m so sorry.” Draco sighed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes looking up to meet yours as you let a shy, watery smile take over. You hoped not to cry, but Umbridge and her punishment was still very fresh in your mind and you felt a horrible chill roll through you whenever you thought of it. Merlin only knew how you had managed to make it through your lesson with her without it affecting you terribly.

“I’m so sorry I haven’t been here, but I’m here now.” Draco whispered it so quietly as he pulled you against his side. He hated that he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again. Draco hated that he couldn’t stop Umbridge from hurting you and part of him hated himself for how weak he was for you. Did you find it strange that he was so apologetic? That he was almost loving towards you? But the worry seemed to slip from his mind when he felt you lean against him. It was moments like this that made Draco question himself. He questioned if he should continue to create distance between you, or if keeping you close was easier to keep you safe. And he questioned things like if he should find a way to help you realise that he was your soulmate like he had worked out two years ago. But he was afraid. Draco was starting to feel like that was beginning to be all too common for him to feel these days as things became more intense. The pressure from his father to do increasingly worse things that simply did not align with Draco’s morals was enough to twist his mind and now with working under Umbridge, he hoped it did not skew his true alignment and morality. It was this that he was fighting so hard to keep, because it was the one thing he could control when everyone else was insistent on pushing him into the directions they wanted him to go in.

What you didn’t know though, was that your friendship, his connection with you was more than just that to Draco. When he was around you, he didn’t feel like he had to cling on to who he was and put a mask on. He could just be himself and it relieved some of the tension and the fear.

But the question begged itself again. Am I too close to her?

“You know, Draco.” You broke the silence, the Slytherin humming in response, prompting you to continue. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for years.” You told him. And while it was somewhat true, you had known him since you both had started Hogwarts, you never really knew him until recently. Without even knowing what lay deeper in your connection to Draco, you could feel something there, you felt drawn to him.

That’s because you have, he thought. “I know what you mean. I’ve felt the same too.” Draco replied with a soft smile, only he really did know what you meant, more than you did and he wished he could tell you.

“We should go.” Draco spoke, almost in a regretful tone as he carefully and gently bandaged your hand back up. He hated that he had so little time with you, but he was thankful at least, that you were not against spending time with him. Stepping forwards, Draco checked the stairwell. “There’s no one around.” He reassured you. “See you soon.” Draco smiled sweetly at you. “I hope so.” You nodded, mirroring his smile before you stepped out of the alcove and made your way down the stairs quickly, Draco waiting several minutes before leaving, just in case.

The end of term was on it’s final stretch with one last exam to sit the following Monday for Defence Against the Dark Arts. But as the weekend came, you decided to spend at least some of it with the person you’d not been able to see nearly all year.

“Can I ask you something?” You broke the silence, Draco glancing over at you from his spot on the grass. You were both sat down by the lake, hidden by a bit of overgrown foliage and rocks. It was a part near the shore of the lake that not many people went to and it was perfect for spending a private moment with someone. “What is it?” He asked as he reached up to push his hair to the side.

“You’ll think it’s ridiculous.” You sighed, fiddling with the book that sat closed in your lap. “Nothing you say is ever ridiculous.” Draco said, looking over at you with a sweet smile and you felt yourself warm at his words. “Well in that case,” You paused, looking out over the horizon of the lake. “Do you believe in soulmates?” You posed the question as if you were terrified he’d tell you it was utter rubbish, but when you heard him give you a little hum as he thought about it, Draco leaned over a little, resting his hand on your arm to get your attention.

Meeting his gaze, his blue eyes softened when he saw how nervous you looked and he wondered if someone had told you that it was all an old wives tale.

You seemed to become more shy under his touch and Draco smiled to himself, feeling that it was sweet that you seemed to get so flustered whenever he touched you, even though it had very rarely happened.

“I do, I believe in soulmates.” He reassured you. Draco wanted, with every fibre of his being to show you his book, to tell you everything. But he didn’t. “Did someone tell you it was...” He trailed off. “Stupid? Yeah.” You huffed out. “Do you think there’s someone out there for us?” You asked, relaxing a little as Draco leaned down to gently grip your hand.

“I know there is.” Draco smiled softly.

Sometimes I wonder if I already know you, you wrote. Perhaps we do know each other, but we won’t know until we reach the end of this book, he wrote only moments later. The trundle of the train rolling over the tracks began to lull you into a sleepy state as you sat in a mostly empty carriage on the Hogwarts Express. It was the end of term and while too much had really happened for you to fully compartmentalize and process it all yet, you took solace in knowing that you could figuratively lean on your soulmate for comfort.

You told him everything you felt, almost like a journal and in turn he did the same. He detailed his thoughts, his feelings and he came to you when his day had been too much, but neither of you were too specific. You wished you knew who he was so that you could give him physical comfort, so you could both lean on each other and you wished for this even more so now that you started to wonder if you already knew him.

I promise I’ll write to you as often as I can. You scribbled it down into the book. But there came no answer. And days after you had arrived in London and returned home for the holidays, there was still no response.

If only Draco could tell you what had happened. If only he could write to you and explain it all from beginning to end. But he had no idea if he could, because his only way of communicating with you was no longer in his possession.

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[weighty-ghosts]

‘Hearts of Palms’ (wolfstar)

Hearts of Palms, by weightyghosts

“A first kiss story of pining, shameless flirtations, a heart to heart under the stars, and palm reading.”

Rating: teen

Word count: 4325

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: November 9, 2020

Warnings: swearing, snogging, real talk about feelings

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379321

    Sirius Black walked out onto the deck of the Astronomy tower, gently shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. He paused to look around for a moment, breathing in the earthy scent of early Spring, before he spotted his reason for coming up here.

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips at the sight of Remus Lupin. Remus was leaning against the inner wall of the tower with a plaid blanket underneath him, focused and scribbling on a scroll of parchment, a textbook in his lap to keep the paper flat.

“Hey, Rem,” Sirius called out loudly as he walked over.

Remus jumped, then cursed under his breath when he saw the big ink splotch he’d just created on his star chart.

“Shit, I thought you heard me,” Sirius said apologetically as he got closer.

“No, I didn’t,” Remus replied, smiling up at him, “You’re as quiet as Padfoot when you want to be.” He took out his wand to clear up the ink and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping you company, of course,” he shrugged nonchalantly and sat down next to Remus. Remus had permission to be up here after hours to finish his Astronomy project, which the rest of the class had done, unfortunately, on the evening of the full moon a few nights ago. Sirius technically only had an hour until he was supposed to be back at Gryffindor tower, but it’s not like he hadn’t broken one or two school rules before, and he happened to be with a Prefect who tended to look the other way when his friends got into trouble. Remus didn’t seem surprised or bothered by his presence.

Sirius stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle as he looked out at the breathtaking landscape in front of them. The sky was painted in brilliant shades of orange and pink from the sun, which was just setting over the grassy hills. The ghost of an incomplete moon loomed above the impressive castle turrets.

Remus was watching Sirius. The cool evening breeze brushed his inky black hair away from his face, and there was a contented smile on his mouth that Remus found very distracting. He was just wishing that Sirius would look at him the way he looked at the beautiful sunset- when he did.

“What?” Sirius asked with a quirked eyebrow, his voice soft but amused.

“Oh, er,” Remus fumbled, “It’s just not often I see you admire the finer things in life.” He smiled quickly, gesturing at the sunset, then looked away, embarrassed at being caught doing his own admiring.

Sirius tilted his head to the side as a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“You see me look in the mirror every day, Moony.”

Remus snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Prat,” he said, smacking his arrogant friend’s arm.

“You know, Remus,” Sirius continued in a haughty voice, “I’ve been appreciating the finer things in life since the first time I saw my reflection in something shiny.”

“Really, Padfoot?” Remus put his ink and parchment down beside him and tried very hard to keep a straight face, “What, when you were a baby?”

“Yes,” Sirius laughed as Remus shoved him again, now attempting to tackle him onto the ground, “I distinctly remember looking in the mirror and thinking, ‘Who is that stunning baby staring back at me with those dreamy-’  Ow!”

Remus had elbowed him in the side.

Struggling to level a threatening glare at the werewolf, he threw his force into flipping Remus over on his back.

“Ha,” he exclaimed triumphantly as he looked down at his friend, successfully pinned beneath him.

“Get off!” Remus cried half-heartedly, trying to squirm out from under Sirius, but the boy on top had clamped down on Remus’ arms above his head.

“Nope, I’m forcing you to appreciate this finer thing, Moonshine,” said Sirius, wiggling his eyebrows.

Remus rolled his eyes again and stilled.

“Yes, yes,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’re the most gorgeous creature to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts and we’re all lucky to have the pleasure of looking at your stunning form every day.”

Sirius gave a fake flattered gasp.

“Such a charmer, Mr. Lupin,” he said, batting his lashes provocatively, “and having you in this compromising position… One could almost swoon.”

“Who says I’m the one in a compromising position, Mr. Black?”

Sirius blinked at the wicked gleam in Remus’ eye, and Remus took advantage of his hesitation, rolling over with lightning speed and surprising strength so that he was now on top of Sirius.

“You were saying?” Remus asked innocently.

“Definitely swooning,” Sirius beamed.

Remus knew he was joking, but something in Sirius’ eyes made his stomach contract in a not-entirely-unpleasant way.

They were definitely looking at each other for too long now.

“I have to work on my star chart,” Remus said, a little embarrassed at how unsteady his voice sounded.

“And is my ‘stunning form’ distracting you from doing that?” Sirius asked in a low voice, with a wink.

“Right, I’m fairly certain I’m immune to your form after seeing too bloody much of it over the years,” Remus teased as he climbed off Sirius and moved over to prop himself up against the wall again.

“So you’ve been looking, Moony?”

“Only in my peripherals, Padfoot,” Remus replied, studiously avoiding Sirius’ eye as he picked up his book and parchment, placing them back in his lap, “You walk around the dorm starkers most of the time.”

“I like to air-dry my bits,” Sirius stated, as if that were a normal thing to do, and sat up facing Remus, leaning back on his hands. “You’re welcome to look, you know,” he added with a smile that should be illegal.

Remus scowled at Sirius, but couldn’t hide the rosy warmth that had spread along his cheeks.

“You’re quite cute when you blush, Moonshine.”

“I am not-”

Sirius’ smile grew even wider and Remus knew it was because his blush had deepened. Remus looked back down at his parchment and made a point of carefully flattening out the creases.

“It’s generally not considered polite to point that out to someone. It only ever makes them blush more,” he said in a measured tone.

“Yes, and as I’ve just told you how very cute you look when you blush, why should I refrain from making that happen?”  

Remus glared at him through narrowed eyes. The dazzling smile on the other boy’s face did nothing to help his pink cheeks.

“I need to focus,” he said, looking back down at his paper and dipping the tip of his quill in the pot of ink.

“Stars aren’t out yet, Moons.”

“I can see that, Pads,” Remus replied with the patient air of someone speaking to a child, “But I have to finish setting up the chart so that all I have to do, when the stars do come out, is plot them.”

“Okay then,” Sirius said pleasantly, taking off his jacket and bunching it under his head as he lay down next to Remus.

“What are you doing?”

“Settling in,” Sirius replied, finding a comfortable position, “I told you, I’m here to keep you company.”

“You don’t need to…”

“I know I don’t need to, Remus."

Remus eyed him for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek, and then went back to work.

After a few minutes of pretending to doze, Sirius turned his head minutely and looked at Remus through his lashes. He sighed inwardly at his oblivious, beautiful friend.

The sunset gleamed off the werewolf’s scars, giving them an other-worldly shimmer, and his lips parted as his focus settled on his work. His shoulders were more rigid than usual, probably still stiff from his recent furry transformation, but he looked content, apparently enjoying what he was concentrated on.

Sirius’ eyes flicked down to Remus’ hands. He loved watching those long fingers, delicate but strong. His mind wandered against his will to images of what those hands might be capable of, and where exactly he wanted them, especially all alone up here in the Astronomy tower. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, pushing those forbidden thoughts away.

Sirius had been shamelessly flirting with Remus since the start of term, which, granted he did with many people, but he recently realized how much he actually enjoyed making Remus blush, or the way Remus would shake his head and try not to smile at his antics, or even the way Remus would get exasperated with him and give a long drawn-out sigh. He realized he looked forward to those moments more than Quidditch or even pranking the Slytherins. Which was why he’d come up here tonight; just to be around Remus and try to make him laugh or roll his eyes.

The problem was that he didn’t know how Remus felt. But sometimes...Remus would look away from him too quickly, or not quickly enough, and he could swear there was something between them. Something intense and exciting.

Eventually, Sirius found the dimming sky and melodic scratching of the quill soothing, and he drifted off to sleep.

*

Sirius opened his eyes to the clicking sound of a telescope being collapsed, and was briefly disoriented by the complete darkness surrounding him. He blinked rapidly and looked down at the plaid blanket covering him.

“You looked cold,” Remus explained in a kind voice, as he packed his homework and things into his bag.

“Oh, thanks, Rem,” Sirius replied, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, “Got your chart finished?”

“Yup,” Remus replied, “Sirius is particularly bright tonight,” he nodded at the glowing Dog Star above them.

The star’s namesake chuckled, and looked up at the sky, clearer now that his eyes had adjusted, and gloriously speckled with millions of stars and planets.

“Do you want to head back to the dorm now?” Remus asked, “Or...do you feel like staying up here for a bit?”

Sirius was surprised at the masked vulnerability in his voice, like he was nervous Sirius wouldn’t want to stay here with him. Which was ridiculous because he would love nothing more than to lay under the stars with Remus.

“I’m happy to stay here,” he said, his lips pulling into a warm smile.

Remus smiled back and rolled his coat into a pillow, placing it under his head as he lay down beside Sirius.

Sirius’ eyes lingered on his friend for a moment, trailing over his face and long, lean body, before he flung the blanket out so it covered both of them and lay down again. He tried to keep a few inches between their bodies, but couldn’t help the length of their arms pressing together.

“Would you ever go up there?” Remus queried after a quiet minute, “In space?”

“...Are you daft?” Sirius asked incredulously. Brooms were one thing, floating up to the heavens was another.

“The muggles do it,” Remus said, chortling, “Don’t you remember learning about rocket ships?”

“Aren’t those the ones that go under water?”

“No, you twat, those are called submarines.”

“Oh. Yeah, that makes more sense.”

Remus shook his head and they both laughed.

“Do you want to go into space?” Sirius asked.

“I don’t know…” Remus said, turning his gaze back to the stars, “No, probably not. It seems cold, and dark. And very lonely.”

Sirius watched Remus as he said that. They were so close to each other he could see the night sky reflected in the other boy’s hazel eyes. He felt sad all of a sudden and looked away.

“I don’t need to go up into the sky for that.”

Remus frowned at the somber and surprisingly blunt statement.

“Are you lonely, Padfoot?” He asked softly.

Sirius was about to brush off the question with a joke about how there were plenty of people at this school who could take care of his loneliness, but when he looked into Remus’ eyes and saw the concern and tenderness there, he found himself speaking truthfully.

“Sometimes,” he answered in a low voice, “I mean, I’m not alone. But sometimes... I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

He inhaled deeply. “Sometimes…I feel like I’m on the outside looking in, you know? Like everyone is far away, up there,” he gestured to the sky, “and I’m down here, looking at them through a telescope. And I’m so- so different from them. I’ll never escape my fucked up childhood, I’ll never be normal.” He hesitated when Remus said nothing. “Do you ever feel that way?”

“All the time,” Remus said with a kind smile, which Sirius returned. “But I usually feel like I’m floating above everyone,” he continued, “looking down at them from afar… Watching them live normal lives that aren’t controlled by the moon, and I’m worried I’m going to drift further and further away. Like a loose balloon.”

Sirius couldn’t resist saying, “I knew you always thought you were above us.”

Remus poked him in the side.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled.

They looked at each other for a while, both pondering the other’s words.

“How do you think people stop feeling like that?” Remus asked, his words just above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Sirius replied honestly, “but if I find a way to tether you to the ground, I’ll let you know.”

Remus breathed a soft laugh.

“Okay.”

He looked down and noticed Sirius’ hands resting on his chest. He had no idea what came over him, but he found himself reaching out and taking the closer hand in his.

He held it above them, turning it over slowly, feeling the smooth skin and soft hairs on the back. He traced a couple of healed-over scars that you couldn’t really see anymore.

Sirius watched Remus intently. He was surprised at first at the intimate contact, but found himself enjoying the feel of Remus’ fingers.

His warm, strong fingers.

Sirius’ pulse quickened.

Remus observed the palm he was holding, the pad of his index finger moving over rough calluses and dipping into valleys.

“Do you remember anything we learned about palm reading?” Sirius asked in a thick voice, then swallowed loudly to clear it.

“Yes,” replied Remus with a wry smile, “but it’s too dark for me to make out the lines and I don’t want to misinterpret an untimely death or seventeen children or something.”

“Seventeen children?” he scoffed, “Not likely.”

“No children for you? What, you have some growing up yourself to do first?”

“Something like that,” Sirius said, gently elbowing Remus in the ribs. “Do you want kids one day?”

Remus tensed and Sirius realized what he’d just asked.

“Fuck- I’m sorry, Rem. I know how you feel about that. I forgot- I mean, I wasn’t thinking,” he stumbled over his words, “I just meant if you ever wanted to adopt or something, but that’s- that’s not much better. Fuck.”

He wanted to kick himself. He knew Remus had a paralyzing fear of passing on his lycanthropy, and that adoption for werewolves was out of the question due to asinine Ministry regulations.

“It’s alright,” Remus said quietly, “I haven’t thought about it much.”

Which they both knew was a lie.

“Sorry, Moony,” Sirius repeated, gently squeezing the fingers still holding his hand.

Remus’ face smoothed out and he went back to his task, taking the time to feel every bone and divot of Sirius’ knuckles.

Sirius revelled in the touch. Little zaps of pleasure rushed up his arm when Remus’s fingers travelled down and brushed over the sensitive skin on his inner wrist.

After a moment, Sirius felt comfortable to continue talking, also wanting to distract his friend from the goosebumps quickly raising on his arm.

“You know, if James ever convinces Evans to have a kid, you could always nick it.”

Remus snorted.

“You could! It would almost be a public service. Can you imagine Prongs as somebody’s dad?”

They both chuckled at the image, but only half-heartedly, deep down knowing James would make a great father one day.

“Don’t worry, I would help you raise it,” Sirius added.

“Would you, now?” Remus asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah. I’ll be the cool, hilarious godfather and you can handle all the rubbish baby stuff.”

Remus abruptly flipped Sirius’ hand over and squinted his eyes, pretending to re-examine his palm.

“Hmm, actually I can see better now,” he said mockingly, “it says in huge flashing letters to keep Sirius Black away from all children ever- and probably puppies and kittens just to be safe.”

“Git,” Sirius laughed, reaching over with his other hand and poking Remus in the side. Remus jerked away to keep from being tickled, but Sirius was too quick, fingers digging into Remus’ ribs, making him squirm and giggle.

They stilled after a minute, a little breathless, and saw that they were still holding hands.

Remus hadn’t realized how close they were laying, but he was now acutely aware of where their thighs touched. He glanced up at Sirius and blinked, taken aback by how dark his grey eyes were, something stirring behind them. He quickly looked back down at their entwined fingers to escape the intensity.

Sirius knew he was in one of those electric moments with Remus, and it was up to him to see where it could go from here.

He twisted his wrist so he was the one holding Remus’ hand and brought it closer to his face, tracing the channels along his palm. He meant to tease Remus, make a prediction about meeting someone tall, dark, and handsome, but he was having a hard time concentrating while holding his friend’s hand so intimately.

“I predict a bright future for you, Mr. Moony,” he managed to say, his voice mostly stable.

“Oh? And what do you predict will make my future bright, Mr. Padfoot?”

“Loads of chocolate, to start-”

Remus laughed heartily, and the sound warmed Sirius’ skin as his breath blew the hair away from Sirius’ forehead.

“And tea, too much tea, some would say,” he snickered as Remus frowned at him, “Lots of laughter, of course... Happiness… Love,” his voice softened, “And me.”

“Y-You?”

“Of course. My presence makes everyone’s lives brighter.”

“Oh, right.”

“Were you not expecting my presence in your future?”

“No, no, I was.”

“Good. Plan on it, Moony,” Sirius replied with a nod.

“I’ll start preparing myself for the longevity of our friendship now,” Remus said in a serious tone, “Might take me a while to come to terms with it.”

“Oi! I don’t have to be around forever if you’re not going to appreciate me!”

“No? You’re just going to up and leave me one day?”

“Nah, you’d miss me too much. I could never do that to you.”

“Yes, how would I ever survive without a pompous, needy megalomaniac in my life?” Remus said sarcastically.

“Shut it, wolf boy. You love me.”

“Mangy mutt.”

“Hairy beast.”

They both cracked up, and Sirius was sure the dopey grin on his face looked idiotic, but he couldn’t help it. He felt like an idiot around Remus all the time lately. He didn’t know where this feeling had come from or when it started, but he knew he never wanted it to stop.

“You know I’d never leave you, right, Moony?” Sirius asked suddenly, holding on to Remus’ hand a little tighter.

“What?”

“I’ll always be there for you,” he said softly, smiling at Remus’ confused face, “Says so on your palm.”

Remus cocked an eyebrow.

“Does it?”

“Yep. Says you’re stuck with your devilishly handsome friend with the flawless body and flowing locks of raven hair.”

“So, James.”

“His hair isn’t flowing!” Sirius cried indignantly, “More like a raven’s nest, the unkempt wanker!”

“True. Must be talking about you, then.”

“As if you have any other devilishly handsome friends.”

“Pete’s alright.”

Sirius glared at him so fiercely, he had to concede.

“But you’re the handsomest, Sirius.”

“Thank you, Remus. Your palm also says you should compliment me more,” he added, pointing to an invisible spot on Remus’ hand.

“Seems to say a lot that only you can read, doesn’t it?”

“Mm,” Sirius agreed, “Also says you should bring me breakfast on Sundays.”

“Ah. Anything else?”

“Yes. Says we need to come up to the Astronomy tower alone more often.”

Remus bit his lip as he felt a blush creep up his neck. Sirius was grinning at him but there was something vulnerable about his grey eyes, and it made Remus feel equally eager and uneasy. They seemed to be in some world of their own where nothing and no one else existed for the moment, and time had stopped just so they could be here together right now.

Sirius hesitantly reached up to brush his thumb along Remus’ reddened cheek. He really did look quite cute.

Heart pounding, he took a chance and leaned in fractionally.

Remus’ eyes widened slightly in alarm and Sirius froze, worried he’d made a mistake.

But after a moment, Remus’ gaze slid down to his mouth, to the pair of lips that were now much closer to his. Sirius felt emboldened and leaned in once more to place those lips lightly on Remus’.

He drew back and Remus slowly exhaled a shaky breath.

Sirius was trying to read his face; he looked a little surprised, and a little confused, but, mostly, Sirius saw desire stirring in the werewolf’s eyes. A hot wave of his own desire hit him, like he had stepped outside from a cool room into the blaze of summer.

He closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together again. This time Remus responded, turning on his side towards Sirius so their entire bodies were touching, and breaking the hands they had still been holding to wrap an arm around Sirius’ back. Sirius smiled into Remus’ mouth, and brought one hand up to cradle his face as he tilted his own head to deepen the kiss.

Remus made a pleasant, rumbling noise deep in his chest as their tongues met, and Sirius’ mind went blank with the sounds, touches, and tastes of Remus.

Their skin felt hot and tingly wherever it connected, and Remus wanted more. As if hearing his thoughts, Sirius rolled on top of him.

Remus gasped as their hips collided and he broke the kiss, turning his head slightly, embarrassed that Sirius could now feel his growing reaction to the contact and wet kiss.

Sirius braced his weight off of Remus, concerned that he’d hurt his friend somehow. Seeing the scarlet blush on Remus’ cheeks, he smiled and bent down to place feather-light kisses on the warmed skin on either side of his nose.

“Who knew palm reading was such a turn on, eh, Moony?” Sirius teased, a little out of breath.

Remus laughed but it caught in his throat as Sirius pressed his lips to the sensitive spot on his neck beneath his ear. He bit his lip and gripped the tops of Sirius’ arms as Sirius ran his lips up his neck and along his jaw, his fingers following the same path.

Sirius leaned back to look into Remus’ eyes once more, and moved his thumb over Remus’ bottom lip to release it from his teeth.

“Don’t,” he whispered in a husky voice, “I’m quite fond of that lip now.”

Remus automatically bit his lip again to keep from moaning, but let go immediately at the scowl he got from the boy above him.

Sirius grinned and planted a quick kiss on the abused flesh, then sighed, figuring he shouldn’t push his luck with taking things any further.

He sat up, pulling Remus with him. He was about to stand when the light from the castle caught Remus’ face and he swallowed a groan. His lips were red and swollen, wet from Sirius’ saliva, his hair a little tousled. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“What?” Remus asked when he saw him staring, his ears turning pink.

“Do you know how bloody sexy you are?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up in shock, but the way Sirius was looking at him sent hot blood rushing from his head to…other places, and he felt a little dizzy.

“Er, no?”

Sirius exhaled frustratingly and he yanked Remus to his feet. He leaned against the wall to steady himself as Sirius picked up Remus’ bag, throwing the strap over his shoulder, and grabbed the blanket.

Remus tried to wrap his head around the fact that he’d just snogged his best mate. His best mate who he lived with. His best mate who he’d been pining after for a year and a half.

“Was this okay?” he suddenly asked.

Sirius straightened up and met Remus’ eyes.

“Was what okay?”

“This...” Remus gestured embarrassingly between the two of them.

“You have to ask, Moony?” Sirius cocked his head to the side.

Remus didn’t answer and Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he came up close to Remus. “You know I kissed you right?”

“Yeah, but I kissed you back.”

“Well, I held your hand.”

“I held your hand first!”

“But I lay down next to you, Moony.”

“I lay down first, Padfoot!”

“I came up here-“

Remus grabbed Sirius’ face with both hands and kissed him hard, thrusting his tongue into his mouth.

He pulled back after a few glorious seconds, to look into the flustered face of his friend. Sirius blinked a few times and tried to speak, but his mind seemed to have gone curiously blank again.

“Hmm,” Remus smiled wickedly at him, “Have I finally found a way to shut Sirius Black up? I’ll have to remember that.”

He pressed his lips to him one more time, then interlocked their fingers and walked towards the staircase leading back inside the castle, trailing a thoroughly dazed Sirius behind him.

*

[lady-z-writes]

A little preview...

So I normally don't post upcoming stuff for a fic I'm writing, but this scene with Heisenberg x fem!reader was just too much. Ended up sharing about it in a server I'm a part of and...here's a little preview of some smut coming up in my multi-chapter fic, What Lies Beneath

The following is NSFW...

Summary for below the cut: Reader and Heisenberg show up to a "family" meeting at the church. While they wait for the others, Heisy wants reader to blow him in one of the pews. Reader ends up fingering herself, mid-blowjob, and doesn't get to climax before the other Lords start showing up for the meeting. Lots of teasing ensues during the meeting because Heisy loves to play...

“We shouldn’t,” she urges, pressing against him in an attempt to get him to stop.

It’s dangerous she’s even this close to him, considering they could get ambushed by anyone.

Still, he insists on entering the church together and she’s forced to pull away from him for appearances sake. He’s smirking at her over his shoulder, finding this whole thing humorous. She shoots him a glare.

Moreau is the only one there already and he mumbles something to Heisenberg about Mother being late.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll be fine.” Heisenberg glances at her, nods down the hall. It takes her a moment, but she realizes what he’s suggesting and she shakes her head. He rolls his eyes, takes matters into his own hands. “Why don’t you wait by the door for her?”

Moreau seems giddy about this idea and [Y/N] watches him shuffle to the main door. The minute Moreau is out of eyeshot, Heisenberg grips her by the arm and drags her where he wants. She struggles, but only for a minute.

“Are you nuts?”

“Maybe a little,” he chuckles. [Y/N] pulls her arm back. His face falls. “Fine. Have it your way.”

He pulls her deeper into the church now, seats himself down in a pew in the nave, and shoves [Y/N] to her knees.

Gaping at him, she shakes her head while he grips her hair.

“Heisenberg,” she hisses, trying to push herself up.

“You wanted it this way, kitten,” he shakes his head, using his other hand to unbuckle and unzip. “But that’s fine, waste more time.”

His grip in her hair is painful and if she understands anything about him, she knows there’s no way of getting out of this.

They’ll be here any minute.

Quickly, she pulls his pants open just enough for his cock to spring out. He groans at the knowledge that she’s actually obliging. Shifting his grip on her hair, he adjusts in the pew, feels the weight of her arms draping over his thighs, one hand groping at his hip, the other around his dick.

“Good girl…” he coos as she takes his cock in her mouth.

Her tongue swirls around his head before she deepthroats once. Such a tease. Always such a tease. A flat tongue traces over the underside of his dick, lapping up to the tip again. She tenses her tongue, uses the tip of it to play with his frenulum. The sensitivity causes Heisenberg to buck his hips toward her mouth, moan aloud.

She startles, surely nervous to have him being so loud but it only urges him on. He’s smirking, she notices, and though she’s nervous she can’t help but be completely aroused by this.

“I’ll sit here all meeting if I have to. You know that,” his voice is sultry, whispered just for her to hear.

She steps up her game, using her hand to jerk him off while her mouth continues to pleasure him as well. The precum she tastes means he’s liking what she’s doing.

“Guess I didn’t – mmm – spell out my rules well enough, huh?” he pants out. “I’ll let it slide this time, ungh…kitten.”

She’s focusing on his pleasure and speeding things up but she’s also very aware of her own throbbing arousal. Pressing her legs together tighter, she moans at the stimulation.

Heisenberg stares at her. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” he cackles to which she deepthroats him repeatedly to get him to shut up. It works, but instead he’s moaning her name.

She can feel his dick tensing, the muscles in his thighs flexing, making the pew creak. It’s at this point that she removes her hand from his hip, uses it to put pressure on her clit.

Heisenberg watches every second – loves the way her mouth feels on him, how her hands grip him at the perfect intensity, how into this she is. He’d normally force her to stop touching herself, but he’s so fucking intrigued he can’t look away. Her fingers have trailed up her skirt and the filthy woman is fingering herself while she mouthfucks him in a church.

Heisenberg can’t hold back much longer – not with the way her throat feels against his tip, not with how talented that tongue is, and surely not when he hears her slick wetness as her fingers slip inside her cunt.

With a string of moans, he spills in her mouth, using his grip on her hair to thrust as deep as possible; give her every last drop. [Y/N] is moaning around his cock and, though his eyes are closed, he can still hear her fingers gliding in and out of herself.

Swallowing him down, she keeps her mouth on him as he starts the comedown but he pulls his hips back from her because she’s overstimulating him. With nothing to block the moans, she buries her face in his thigh, hides her expression as she nears her climax.

“Ohhh, fuck, buttercup,” he gasps, stroking her hair gently, his voice laced with pleasure. “You gonna cum for me? Hm? You gonna cum on your fingers for a job well done getting your master off in a church?” he chuckles and she’s completely gone – passed the point of no return. “And I’ll let you. I’ll let you because, baby girl, you did so good.” A few more strokes to her g-spot and she’s there. “Oh…? Oh…shit, honey…” he’s laughing at her and for a second she stills, listening.

Over the sound of her heartbeat in her ears, she can hear someone talking. No. No, no, no, they’re here already?

A sob leaves her mouth as she looks up at him from his crotch. He’s pleased, so fucking pleased with the sight of her – hair a mess, swollen lips, pupils dilated, chest heaving.

The voice of Lady Dimitrescu is apparent now, echoing in the nave as she enters. Heisenberg glances over his shoulder as [Y/N] debates if she should try to finish – but that edge is waning due to the new company.

“Up. Now,” Heisenberg speaks through gritted teeth, quickly zipping, buttoning, and buckling up.

A shaky breath that’s on the verge of a sob, she huffs in the pew beside him. Her hands come up to wipe her mouth, smooth her hair, swipe the tears from her eyes. Heisenberg takes another glance back, notices he has a second, and pops her slick-covered finger in his mouth – tasting her, tongue dancing across her skin.

A whimper leaves her before she purses her lips. Heisenberg is so humored by this.

He leaves her side, goes to greet Alcina with some witty, snide remark. She doesn’t even notice [Y/N].

Eyes wide, [Y/N] glances around the room, looking for an escape of some sort. Maybe she could rush to the bathroom – make an excuse – finish off in there…

And then Heisenberg is calling her into the conversation; something about her wanting to try Alcina’s wine.

“Oh, my dear girl! I’ve stored some bottles in the kitchen here. Would you fetch them for us?” she calls.

Perfect – an excuse. She could almost weep a thank you to Karl as she gets up and tries to walk, as composed as possible, to the kitchen. His eyes are on her. She can feel them.

Alone in the kitchen, she decides to take a breath and focus: get the wine and glasses before trying to finger fuck herself.

It’s fairly empty so it’s not hard. A wine opener sits on the counter too and she rushes to open the bottle, tries to mentally work herself up again so it’s not a problem reaching her climax quickly.

Bottle open, everything spread out, shielded by the counter, [Y/N] starts to pull her long skirt up –

“[Y/N]?” Lady Dimitrescu ducks into the doorway, startling her enough for her to drop the fabric back down. “Oh, I see you’ve found the opener as well. Very good.”

“I-I’m excited to try it,” she stutters out, clearing her throat as the Lady picks up the bottle. She struggles to hide her swollen lips, looking away when Alcina tries to look closer at her.

Heisenberg is in the hallway, just beyond Lady Dimitrescu – smirking. Of course.

“Come, now, child. We’re needed in the vestry.”

[Y/N] follows, grabbing the glasses with shaking hands. As she passes Heisenberg, he tips his hat at her, that devilish smirk taunting her.

No one behind them, he places a hand on her ass as they walk. This whole sneaking around thing is way too much fun, he thinks.

Donna and Moreau are in the vestry, seated at the middle table. Alcina takes the bottle to the front, naturally, overachiever.

As [Y/N] gets her glass filled with wine, Heisenberg takes one of the two seats at the back table. She glances up at everyone in the room, notices the only empty seat.

“Back of the class,” Heisenberg cackles.

The front board is covered with a hand-drawn map of the village. [Y/N] takes her seat and tries to distract herself.

Heisenberg is smug beside her, running his hands over his facial hair to make that delicious scratch that she loves.

He watches her cross her legs, sip her wine, stare at the front of the room. A quiet chuckle comes from him. Slowly he starts rolling up his sleeves, exposing his muscled forearms. [Y/N] inhales sharply and he is so enjoying this.

Miranda joins them shortly, instantly cutting to information regarding the upcoming culling. Maps of the village contained information on houses, villagers, livestock. [Y/N] tries to focus, but once the lights dim, Heisenberg has his hand on her thigh and she’s trying to calm down.

She gives it a few minutes, waits for Miranda to introduce their next steps.

It’s so damn hard to focus though and every few minutes she’s switching one leg over the other just to have some sort of stimulation.

Heisenberg’s hand doesn’t leave her no matter her movements. He notices her shifting, bites back a laugh.

Lackadaisically, he lifts her wine glass to his lips, takes a sip, swallows, hums. The rumble of his throat makes her squeeze her thighs together tightly. He starts touching his facial hair again, the sound against his leather gloves so arousing.

“You just gotta ask nice,” he barely whispers.

She’s afraid they’ll be caught; afraid someone already heard his comment. Yet, when his fingers just barely graze over her cunt, she covers her mouth and inhales sharply.

“Please,” she whispers.

She breaks.

“Absolutely.”

He doesn’t lift her skirt like she hoped, but the pressure of his fingers against her clit is enough to bring her right back to that moment: with her face in his lap, her fingers buried between her thighs.

Talented fingers tense over her clit, massaging up and down. Holding her breath, she closes her eyes in hopes to focus on her orgasm. Biting her lower lip, she barely bucks up against his hand.

Heisenberg’s free hand is pressed against his cheek, elbow on the table. He hides his smirk as he hears a soft, shaky breath leave her. Good. Good girl.

The orgasm is powerful, breathtaking, considering she was refused a release before. Heisenberg’s fingers are relentless and she’s so impressed he can coax her to peak so quickly. Here, in this room, after she blew him – her lips still swollen, mouth tasting of a mixture of wine and his cum.

Her eyes shoot open as she takes in the scene around her. No one else pays her any mind, but Heisenberg is staring, hungry, pants tented again.

She’s breathless once more.

[janekfan]

Duress

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30665933

As ever, Jon’s timing was impeccable.

Impeccably awful.

Barely a month into his new “promotion” and already he could feel a toll. If he was completely honest with himself he hadn’t expected quite this level of work despite not being a stranger to long hours. To put it bluntly, the archives were a mess. Gertrude hadn’t left any clues as to how filing was done and it all seemed so haphazard he had to wonder if it wasn’t on purpose. He was up to his elbows in files he’d found in a water stained cardboard box when Tim sauntered up, looking down his nose at the papers in disgust. Jon wished he would help and didn’t know how to ask for it with their relationship as strained as it currently was. Tim had silently allied with Sasha when Elias made the announcement and they were all navigating the current situation gingerly. Jon didn’t blame him. She needed support. The statements and recordings and organization could wait until they were ready.

“Hey there, boss. Was wondering if you wanted to come out with us tonight.”

Oh, of course. It was Friday, wasn’t it.

Jon looked around his office, strewn with papers and post-its and worse off than it was this morning. Guilt welled up in him like blood from a wound. Tim was losing his already limited patience with him.

“Uh, yes, that would be nice. It has been a while.” He leaned back and wiped his dusty hands off on his trousers adding to the light streaks already there.

“Yeah, I’ll say. Too important to hang out with us now, ey Jon? Now that you’re a corporate bigwig?”

“I am not!” Tim held his hands up in supplication.

“Just kidding, yeah?” It didn’t sound like it was just anything; certainly not the jokes Tim used to tell. This just felt cruel, probably because Tim thought it was the truth. Jon could admit he was prickly and difficult and knew he never won over many. If he lost Tim and Sasha over this he didn’t know what he would do. “Usual place.”

That exchange happened hours ago and Jon didn’t feel well. He couldn’t go out like this, pulse pounding, head throbbing, vision swimming. He’d have to cancel. But he’d canceled at the last minute on them so many times before and he could tell their patience was wearing thin. How was he supposed to choose between his new job and his old friends? Why couldn’t he just be normal for once?

Why did Tim choose now to forget this sometimes happened?

Any moment they’d be by to collect him and Jon was so dizzy he wasn’t altogether sure if he could stand. He hadn’t felt like this since Uni when he and Georgie spent many a late night studying for exams. He’d crashed shortly after, struck down with some illness or another, and barely remembered more than a glimpse of her face staring down at him with concern. Surely they would understand?

“Ready, boss?” Casual with his jacket over one shoulder, Tim leaned into the office, scowling when he laid eyes on him, exasperated. “Really, Jon?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Tim scoffed. “S’sorry. I know it’s rude, I’m just. Tired.” That was a part of it anyway.

“You know, Jon, you say you still want to be friends and then never hang out with us.”

“I know, I’m--”

“You’ve cancelled so many times at this point I don’t know if it’s even worth inviting you.” Jon’s heart nearly stopped, a painful lurch that all but choked him.

“...Please.” Bare more than a whisper, Tim raised an eyebrow in question.

“What?”

“P’please keep inviting me.” If Jon wasn’t so sure he’d pass out upon standing he’d be springing to his feet. “I, I, I’m there. Next Friday, bells on, I swear.”

“And tonight?” Cold sweat slipped down his spine. But if he rested this weekend, took it easy next week, maybe asked them for a bit more help-- “Sure, boss.”

The weekend came and went and Jon tried every trick in the small volume of self-care tips he actually paid attention to. He wanted to show them what they meant to him, even Martin, new and bungling as he was. If they were to be a team, he needed to get to know him. And besides, Sash and Tim enjoyed his company. Had been inviting him out the whole while. Unfortunately, Jon was still exhausted from not sleeping well for bad dreams and restlessness, not eating enough because anxiety turned his stomach. But he’d made a promise and he vowed to make good on it.

Monday saw a fresh pile of work stacked neatly in the center of his desk blotter, old assignments shoved off to the side and a note in Elias’ neat scrawl informing him that this was the priority. Jon spent the next hour putting together the things he’d been in the process of collating and jotting down a list of instructions that even Martin could follow before dragging it out to where his assistants were working.

“Hullo, Jon.” Bright and cheery, Martin chirped a greeting and Jon forced a small smile.

“Morning.” Tim and Sasha nodded back, expectant looks on their faces. “I, um. Well, Elias brought in some more documents for me to take a look at.”

“Promotion came with some extra obligations, did it?” Tim laughed, elbowing Sasha good naturedly.

“Yes, I suppose it, it did.” Jon shifted nervously, anticipating the answer even before he’d asked. “I was hoping you would be able to help me with these ones?” He lifted the stack and Tim made a show of whistling.

“Wow, I mean. I would, boss, but I’m in the middle of this other thing you gave me last week.”

“Oh. I was. Well I was rather hoping you’d have wrapped that up by now.” The room began to tunnel and Jon staggered just a step even though he was standing still. He hadn’t been able to use his cane and handle this veritable mountain.

“You and me both.”

“Jon?” Martin’s worry was more embarrassing than anything else and he forced himself to focus despite the trembling in his hands. “I can take some of them.” But the messy heap on the corner of his desk in danger of toppling hardly seemed smaller than it had the week before. It wouldn’t do to add even more to what the other man couldn’t seem to handle but...

“Th’thank you for the offer.” He selected a few slim folders and handed them off and somehow the work in his arms became heavier.

“No problem!” Martin was beaming so he must have done something right and it sparked a bit of warmth in him. “I’ll make an exchange for another, soon as I finish this up.”

Tuesday went much the same, though Jon’s insomnia and sore joints forced him out of bed and he decided to use the gift of time to come in early to get a bigger start on the old mess so he had more time for the new mess and while Martin was slow it helped to have someone else tackling it with him. He suspected that Tim and Sasha were making a statement in their being shiftless and Jon couldn’t find it in himself to address it instead hoping that once he proved himself they could move past it. Using the stairs proved foolish as Jon nearly took a header from vertigo and he thanked the stars he was early and alone so he could sit down and wait for the episode to pass. Lord, he hurt. Joints on fire, white-hot fire pokers of pressure needling his hips. He hung his head when tears of frustration began to fall.

Wednesday found Jon buried alive and struggling. He had to stay late in order to finish out the day and by the time he made it home he could barely stand, falling into bed and waking the next morning still dressed in his wingtips and work clothes. Marginally better for the rest, Jon used the boon to plow through the rest of Elias’ assignment, skipping lunch he knew he wouldn’t eat anyway to finish.

“Oh, Tim!” He called out his door as he passed, relieved that he wasn’t ignored. “When you have a moment could you take these up to Rosie?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Jon pushed away the disappointment when the end of day came, his assistants left, and the box still sat on the corner of his desk.

No bother, Tim probably forgot and Jon searched the stacks for the department’s hand truck with its one sticky wheel and found it loaded up with more of Gertrude’s chaos. He didn’t have much choice than to shove at it unceremoniously until it toppled over, papers fluttering out of their folders and under shelves. He’d just have to deal with it later. What’s one more thing? When he tugged, his shoulder very nearly came loose and his yelp of pain was swallowed up in the dark and the dust. Noone around to hear him anyway.

More tears.

He was a mess.

He went along more carefully, cursing the squeak of the blasted wheel, cursing Tim for his forgetfulness, cursing Elias for letting him even steal the job from Sasha to begin with. Cursing time itself because he wanted to go home and it was already an hour past.

“Rosie, I’m so glad I caught you.” She was just starting to collect her bag. “Can I leave this for Elias to collect when he gets in?”

“Of course, Jon!” She helped him lift it to her desk and disguised his taking a rest with interest in her writing a note of explanation.

“Thank you, you really are a lifesaver.” Jon chuffed a weak and humourless laugh. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Of course, dear. Just take that along with you so I don’t have to hear about it from the night staff.” The dolly. Yes. It would have to go back down with him wouldn’t it?

Thursday Jon could barely lift his arms. The debacle from the day before had taken whatever they had left and he was scared that at any moment, his arm would drop from its socket. That happened sometimes. So far, no doctor had figured out why.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Tim jolted him out of staring at his pen cup and the surprise set his heart to racing. Jon didn’t know how many minutes he’d lost.

“Ah, uh.” Absently, he rubbed at his chest, willing the battering tempo to slow before it shook him apart.

“Boss.” It sounded too much like a warning and felt too much like his last chance to prove he had what it took to be their friend.

“I’m not backing out!” Quick to cover up his fumble. “Don’t forget to collect me.”

“Never!” Jon couldn’t help but hope he did.

It was a short walk to their usual pub and Jon pushed himself to keep up, breaking out in cold sweat as the nausea from his laboring heart rocked his stomach. He couldn’t wait to sit down. They were regulars enough that the first round appeared before them as if by magic. Jon sank into the conversation around him, sipping from his pint, wishing it was water, and interjecting when he felt up to it. Martin kept staring at him. Jon didn’t have the energy to pretend.

“Oh come on, boss! Our company can’t be that boring!” Tim was three drinks in and clapped Jon hard enough on the shoulder to rattle his bones. Jon bit his tongue so hard he tasted iron.

“Ah, no, just a long week.” His voice was papery as a wasp nest, thin and drawn. “Looking forward to a lie in.”

“Aren’t we all?” Tim drained his glass and Jon looked down at the worn scratched surface of the table to hide his irrational irritability with the statement. He didn’t corner the market on sleeping in. The others deserved a restful weekend just as much as he did.

“I’m surprised you managed to make it through Elias’ busy work.” Sasha murmured, selecting a chip and using it as a means for sauce delivery.

“Martin helped a great deal.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Jon, but we know who worked his way through the majority.” They exchanged a warm smile.

“Yes, well. Any you did, I didn’t have to. It was very much appreciated.” Martin was bright red and Jon’s cheeks were warm, from alcohol or otherwise, and Tim’s cawing laughter rang bright as a bell over the cacophony around them.

“You’ve broken him, Jon!” They caroused well into the evening until Martin mercifully faked a yawn and explained he had an early morning. Jon almost hugged him and if it weren’t for the state of his shoddy joints he may well have. Holding up a very drunk and very affectionate Tim, Sasha nodded to him.

“This was lovely.” Her grin beamed. “We’ll have to do this again.”

Jon dreaded it.

That month they dragged Jon out to the shops for lunch a few times each week. Catching dinner after work became a regular occurance. Sasha hosted a movie night one weekend. Friday nights at the pub continued.

Jon wasn’t sure which was worse; the exhaustion or the steadily increasing pain, but it felt worth it when the frosty attitude began to thaw. They were still friends. That’s what counted even though the littlest tasks had become huge when faced with choosing which ones to do at the cost of himself. He knew better and still he was overspending, going into the red just to collect more and more debt with no way to catch up other than lose his friends. Something was going to break. Jon hoped it wouldn’t be him.

Groggy, slow, Jon came to with his cheek mashed into the statement he’d been skimming. Something was...wrong. His heart. Racing, pounding against his breastbone, trying to hammer its way to freedom or jump straight out his throat. He blinked hard, trying to bring anything into focus and failing. The first attempt to stand had him face down on the desk again, the next he took in steps.

Sit up. Let the room stop moving.

Breathe. In. Out. Count them.

Ignore the agonized beating. Ignore the fear that came with it.

Stand. Slow. Wait. Patient.

Let the world fall still.

Jon didn’t bother picking up his bag. His phone, wallet, keys, all in his trouser pockets.

“Sorry all. I. I think.” He paused, gulping for air, swallowing none. “Need to go, go home.” If what made it out of him were even close to words he’d consider himself lucky. His tongue was thick and clumsy in his mouth, tripping up the syllables fighting their way past the rabbit-quick hammering,

hammering,

hammering.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha was at his elbow, Tim halfway out of his seat.

“Not feeling well.”

“You sure you can get home, boss?” Nodding absently Jon made his way carefully to the lift before Martin could offer to call him a cab or something equally ridiculous.

Muscle memory got him back to his flat and it wasn’t until he collapsed into bed that he remembered it was Friday and he’d again ducked out on drinks again. Tears collected on his lashes, slipping down his temples when his trembling got the better of them. They. This. All his hard work and he’d undone it. Before the encroaching black overtook him he fumbled with his phone, tapping out an apology to the group chat and barely managing to hit send.

He slipped in and out. Lucid one moment, hallucinating the next, burning away to nothing and ending up on the floor more than once after passing out attempting to, to…didn’t matter. There wasn’t enough in him to attempt it again, opting to lay flat on his back in the sweat soaked sheets trying not to move for the pain. For a wild, hysterical moment Jon was sure he would die here, alone, phone just out of reach, melting in wretched heat and so uncomfortably hot it was difficult to remember a time when he wasn’t.

Jon hurt.

Everything was darkness and agony. Each tremor an earthquake threatening to tear him apart. He was trapped in treacle, done up in bits of twine, strung together with razor wire and unable to move. It was a familiar voice that clawed its way down to him. Lifted him up, low and soft, a stone tumbling down a mountain and catching Jon up in the landslide. He thought he answered, made some attempt at a response, drawn out of him like water from a well. Hurting and disoriented Jon drifted. Consciousness slipping in and out through his fingers like the surf, breath like coals banked beneath his ribs. Jon’s body wouldn’t cooperate as it should and time seemed to skip from one moment to the next between long bouts of nothing.

A heavy palm, cool and comforting, came to rest over his forehead and Tim materialized out of nowhere, startling Jon enough that he keened when each joint shrieked and protested at his moving.

“Sh, sh, shh.” Tim. That’s right...he wasn’t sure it was true, but he was wiping down his over sensitive skin with a damp flannel to quell the coals for a handful of moments.

“Wha’s..?”

“When you didn’t come in yesterday or this morning, we figured we should check on you.” So many words. Too many to parse more than a few but the flood came anyway, streaking into his greasy hair because he’d been sure no one would come and Tim kept applying the cold compress; wrung, applied, repeated, and Jon sobbed with the simple relief of it, tears cool against the incandescence of his skin.

“Are you...l’leaving?” He winced at the raw scrape of his voice against his vocal cords. “Been. You’been s’so angry with m’me.” Tim’s face fell and Jon wanted to apologize. It was the illness, that’s all, lowering his defenses and simmering his many insecurities just below a fractured awareness that refused to keep them in where they belonged. Instead his breath hitched and he choked on a whimper of defeat. “Tri’tried so hard ‘nd still. M’sorry.”

“It’s alright.” So unbelievably soft. Jon thought he’d ruined this long ago and the tears came somehow faster. “I think we need to call an ambulance, bud.”

“No...nonono…” Jon didn’t want to be poked and prodded by strangers and stuck full of needles alone in a cold sterile room. Even in his ragged state Jon could see Tim was torn. “Pl’please.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed, gentling him with a touch. “But if you can’t keep this down we have to go.” Medicine. Lucozade. Fed to him mouthful by mouthful in the intervals he was awake.

Quiet sounds he recognized, Martin. Sasha. Hushed. Martin tipped the next sip into him and Jon wasn’t aware of much, but he was aware enough to know he was disgusting after having slept and sweated in the same bedclothes for days. Martin wouldn’t hear of it and Jon didn’t know where to put all the feelings and he was so tired of crying and couldn’t seem to stop.

Sasha, they told him, has gone out for supplies and they asked if he’d like help getting out of his uncomfortable trousers and button down, now missing several buttons no doubt from his restlessness. Jon didn’t trust his voice, only nodded, trying and failing to sit up, losing consciousness entirely when one of them levered him up with an arm behind his shoulders. Tim was explaining it to Martin when he came around, peering up at them through fluttering lashes.

“S’al’...” Clumsy, the words wouldn’t come to him.

Together, they shift his limbs, passing him back and forth between, one moment resting against Martin’s chest, another tucked into the hollow where Tim’s shoulder and neck meet. He should be helping but he can barely stay with them, just concentrating on the pulse currently beneath his ear to ground him. Carefully, as though he is some precious thing, they rid him of the awful, disagreeable stickiness and their low murmuring seems such an intimate thing. He isn’t worth it. This. And then soft, clean clothes, well worn and familiar and when Jon surfaces again he’s with Tim on the sofa, bundled up and more comfortable than he’d been in months.

Martin is changing his sheets.

“I’m sorry, Jon.” He didn’t know what for and shook his head, or tried anyway. “Made you think you had to push yourself like that. Ignored how exhausted you were and guilt tripped you into not telling us ‘no’.” Lord, so many words, Jon dizzied himself trying to catch them, hold them, decipher them. “You should be able to trust us, and I.” A suspicious sniff. “I’m sorry.” Jon relaxed into him with a hum he hoped conveyed something.

“I think I remembered which meds he tolerated best.” Sasha elbowed her way into the flat, face lighting up when she saw he was awake. Kind of. “Jon! Thank god. You were in such a bad way.” Whispery and rushed, the same feeling in it as with Tim. “Let's get you dosed up and back to bed, okay?”

It was late evening judging by the window. The reading lamp was on. Martin sat beside him with a book he couldn’t recognize by cover alone.

“Mah’in..?” So it hadn’t all been a hallucination after all.

“There you are.”

“Miss’d work.” He nodded, uncapping a bottle of sports drink and holding it to his chapped lips. Jon drank what he could.

“Not important right now, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Gave us a scare.” Easy, like it was nothing in the world to do it, Martin laid the back of his fingers against his neck, against his throat. “That’s a relief. Tim called us in a panic.” By way of explanation. “But I think you’re past the worst of it now.”

“Don’, don’ remember.”

“Probably for the best. We’ve decided, if you’re alright with the arrangement, that one of us should stay with you.” That sounded okay even if normally Jon would fight it tooth and nail. He did remember being alone and scared. “Tim and Sash are talking. I get the feeling we missed something very important.”

“Mm.” Jon tried to sit up and swooned, came around with a pillow behind his back.

“Dunno if I’ll get used to that any time soon though, I’ll be honest.”

“Happens sometimes. Th’that’s why…” Martin picked up the thread.

“You cancelled on us. I understand. And I hope, I hope you know you can always tell me, us, I hope, when you need to. There’s no shame in it. I’ll admit, I’m upset with Tim.” He fussed with the quilts, smoothing out imaginary creases. “He knew this was something to look out for and he didn’t tell me.”

“No, it’s--”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” Martin spoke with conviction. “Ever. I don’t want you to, to push yourself like this for a blasted game night. We can do other things as a department. Things that don’t jeopardize your health like this again.”

“Martin’s right.” Sasha sat at his feet, draping a hand over his ankle, and Tim stood at the foot of the bed. He looked proper chastised, eyes rimmed in red and swollen from crying.

“I’m so sorry, Jon. So sorry. I should never--I was angry and frustrated and used it to. To hurt you. Make you think we’d stop being friends over a stupid night out. Not like I lifted a hand to help you! When I knew you wouldn’t ask a second time!”

“S’okay.”

“It’s not!” Tim was a staunch friend. The type who got to know you so well and sometimes aimed too precisely at your soft parts. He didn’t need another telling off. Exhaustion lapping at his limbs, Jon curled his fingers in poor imitation of a come hither gesture. Willingly, Tim allowed himself to be pulled along by it, slotting himself beside Jon on the mattress to hide his own tears in his chest. Graceless, Jon managed to tug a hand over the back of his head, tangling fingers in Tim's hair, surrounded by friends and not alone.

“Will be, then.”

[katsukikitten]

Part 10 of Irritated. Y'all thank Jo for this being updated lol.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ This is an 18+ Pro Hero AU, mentions of violence and death. Enjoy

The pungent smell of wet Earth and nose burning chemicals did not pair well with the harsh scent of rotting fruit. Sickeningly sweet as it rouses you, mind hazed as your eyelids refuse to open or even flutter. Weighted by lead and an endless sleep that tries to pull you under again. For once you submit.

More time passes, although you aren’t even sure you understand the concept any longer as that same smell stirs you again, a bang from an adjacent room pushes your eyes to flutter. Flashes of light against the start darkness before your eyes adjust to the low light of the room that seeps in from a few small rectangular windows. The panes are caked with dust while bricks are pressed into the seedy Earth, giving the room a natural coolness, there is only one set of stairs that lead up towards a door outlined in light. The sound of running water makes your throat constrict and your mouth dry, as if you swallowed cotton whole. Making you wonder just how long you had been pulled undertow. It takes your throbbing head a moment to catch up with your senses as a chill settles over your bare skin in goose flesh.

And then it all comes flooding back, the awful taste of his salty skin in your mouth, the fear gripping at your muscles as you finally realize that you are not in the safety of your apartment but somewhere forgein. Thrashing to get to your feet only to hit hard onto the icy concrete, wrists and ankles bound by white cuffs, a small whine escapes your raw throat. Your heart hammers in your chest before you feel a sharp prick in both of your wrists. A warm substance floods your system as your eyelids become heavy, mind trudging through abduction procedures before settling on blissful numb. A blurry figure comes from the only other door in the room that isn’t atop the staircase. You don’t need to fully focus on his face to know exactly what color his eyes are as they burn into your retinas before sleep hushes your frayed nerves. You dream of all consuming green that slowly fades to black.

Bakugou finds himself standing in the kitchen of his apartment, your spare key stares up at him from your paperwork. A sweating glass with melting ice and the reminisce of an amber liquid is his only company. He leers down at the address, wondering why the hell you were on such a seedy side of town, then he thinks of you shaking on the couch back at the hotel during the convention. His stomach churns, your final words and blow cause him to suck his teeth.

“Not my fucking problem.” He huffs to himself, refilling the glass before killing the light in the kitchen to settle on the couch. His grip is too tight on the crystal glass in his explosive palm, the glass threatens to shatter while an infomercial plays in the background. His mind is anywhere but the TV while indestructible pans are advertised across the large screen. Aggressively swirling the amber liquid as his thoughts become more and more loud. He swallows the whisky whole and with it the thought of you. Letting it all burn as it runs down his throat and heats his chest, a warm feeling flooding his veins as he sinks lower into the couch. Flipping channels as he forgets you.

Your key taped to your personal records, that Bakugou stole, do not sit on his fine counter much longer, soon it is swiped and shoved into a pocket. He slams the crystal glass on the counter as he reaches for his own apartment keys and his cellphone. Bakgou slams his apartment door, locking the deadbolt before he rushes down the stairs to catch the last train to you hellish part of the city.

The hour train ride sobers Bakugou and only sets him into further agitation. Glaring at anyone who thinks to look at him more than once, even going as far as baring his teeth. Before glaring at his own reflection, who sneers right back. His black tee is tight and a bit damp despite the cool air, the brim of his backwards cap pulls the hair away from his forehead as his faded sides breathe in the chill of the train. The hat, an excuse to hold in his hair, his hero gloves heating his hands as his fingers twitch, he hopes your apartment is hardwood throughout since he didn't have plastic bags to put his feet in while he looked for something. Anything. He was doing the best with what he had.

But the more he looks at himself the more he realizes he never really was doing his best. At least not when it came to you.

The address to your apartment complex is a few blocks away from the train station, his jaw clenched as he reaches the low lit building. Screaming comes from somewhere far off, his ears perk out of habit, but he was supposed to be off duty right now. Plus that wasn’t his current focus, not to mention should he help it would be suspicious as fuck as to why he was so far way from home tonight. He bounds up the stairs in the dank stairwell two at a time, huffing through his nose as he reaches the top floor. The carpet is worn threadbare and reeks of vomit and water damage. Silence envelopes the top floor compared to the yelling and crashing items on his way up. Slowly it dawns on him that you’re most likely renting out the entire fucking floor. He sucks his teeth, leaning in close to the door of the first apartment on the floor. Nothing comes from the other side of the thin cheap door, musty air flows from between the cracks as if the room had been closed for quite some time. It confirms what he’s been thinking. He finds your apartment door with ease, several bolts and locks lined up perfectly straight. He looks down at the one key and thinks about what happened in the short few years you started at the agency that you would need five, no six additional deadbolts on your door. He half wishes you hadn't made it so obvious as to which door was yours, thoughts creep into the forefront of his mind as he imagines someone else standing in his spot now. He thinks he will need a locksmith, but that would call attention to himself, he could attempt to pick them but he never really had time to practice the shady skill. Just as he is about to turn to brute force as the answer he notices that your door doesn't seem fully shut. He thinks of all the times that you bitched while on patrol about your damn door and how you had to literally slam it shut for it to actually lock. Gritting his teeth he gently pushes the door open with his gloved hand letting it swing open with an eerie creak.

Already things are out of place. Your suitcase stands alone, untouched and obviously unpacked from the clothes peeking out from beneath the zipper, by the front door. Your lanyard for your keys is on the floor instead of the table that is in the foyer and the converse you were wearing the day that you quit are missing. Faintly something gleems in the grainy light from the hallway from beneath the table in the foyer. Bakugou reaches for it tentatively, teeth gritting as he realizes what the glass rectangle is.

Your phone.

Specifically, your dead phone.

His hand hover over the unresponsive screen before deciding to leave it, this would be evidence they would need later but for now he knew he had to do something. Kamisama takes pity on the poor bastard and throws him a bone in the shape of a scrunchie. Your black scrunchie that seems to have been ripped from your arm. As he reaches for it he notices the faint residue smeared on the hardwood. His mind dredges up weeks ago of the guy trying to hide his quirk. Of the carpet by the hotel door in the hall just a touch darker.

He should have fucking killed him, he should not have listened to you. He snatches the scrunchie, heading towards your kitchen to look for a bag, tupperware, anything to trap the smell of you and possibly your assailant. He finds a plastic sandwich bag, shoving the broken hair tie into the baggie before sealing it shut. He heads for your door thinking better of slamming it shut in case he needs to return without the calvary. Pulling his phone from his pocket he dials an old number from memory, the other line picks up.

"Oi, it's time I cashed in on that favor you owe me."

After the short conversation and the long hour and a half in the cold a four door sudan pulls up to the train station by your house. Bakugou eagerly yanks open passenger side door, slamming it shut as he cranks of the heat in the car, giving the driver no room for questions let alone a greeting.

"Oi, I need you to find the owner of this." He flashes the scrunchie as the driver gives him a look, "Inu, you're hound's son aren't you? It's not impossible."

"It might as well be dude. What is this?" Inu snatches the bag from hot fingers, "Do you even know when the last time the owner wore this. And what exactly are we doing? Is this even fucking official?"

Bakugou narrows his eyes, mouth set in a harsh snarl as he leans in close to the driver's seat while Inu leans back.

"I dunno was your shit I helped you with official? Was it ethical for us to take out a mob boss for your now ex wife?"

Inu looks away into the rear view mirror, eyes boring holes into the glass and the blankets in the back seat. Bakugou doesn't notice, he takes it as admission before leaning away into the passenger seat.

"Now get to sniffing." Inu grits his teeth at the hot head's comments before sighing out. Opening the bag just a little to take a whiff. The smell was faint, indicating a large gap from the time it was last worn to now. Not to mention there was an odd smell, so unbelievably faint in the fabric that had Inu not already known what you smelt like he would have missed it. Just barely he could make out past the notes of your shampoo a salty harsh smell, almost like a preservative. Had it been any stronger it would have burned his nostrils. Sweat and...was that formaldehyde?

His stomach churns, slowly closing the baggie before cracking his window, catching the wind just right. He follows his nose, head halfway out the window as the car carries the men late into the night, all the way to the fringes of a suburb that was partly in the country. Inu parks the car on the wide street of the little neighborhood built to mimic an American suburb in the nineties. Homes of various sizes spread out and yet not too far from one another.

"This is it." Inu announces, throwing the car in park as it sits nestled between a beat to hell pick up truck and a dented sudan.

"You're sure?" Bakugou asks as he takes in the old home, it's upkeep is minimal at best, landscaping border line over grown as he can barely make out the small rectangular windows at the base of the house beneath the old dim street lamp.

"This is where both smells get stronger."

"Both?" A tic wounds tighter in Bakugou's jaw while a tremor runs through his arms. Inu nods as Bakugou reaches for the knob.

"Woah, woah!" Inu's large hand clamps down onto a broad shoulder, "Hold up man, if she really is involved then this is nothing like the sting we did bro. We need to call someone."

"Like fucking who?"

"I dunno Director Yami?"

"Yea so he can dismiss this again? Fuck that and fuck you. I'm going." He shoves Inu away reaching for the door again before the blankets in the back seat come to life. A mop of emerald curls with concern plastered across the giant's face appears to Bakugou's horror.

"Kaachan...you can't. We need to do this right, for her." And with that Bakugou snaps, lunging for his old friend, enemy. Climbing past the center console with his hands outstretched before they wrap around a thick column squeezing with all of his might. Deku doesn't do much to stop him, somehow knowing deep down that it isn't really him that the red eyed man wants to kill. He wraps broad hands around thick forearms giving them a gentle squeeze, he could snap them with One for All if he wanted. Instead Inu barks out a breathy "What the fuck?" as he wraps his arms around Bakugou's torso pulling him back into the passenger's seat. In the tussle either Bakugou or Inu hit the horn, causing Inu to panic as a light comes to life in the once darkened house. He forcefully shoves Bakugou into the front seat as he peels into the street, thankfully without burning rubber.

"Are you trying to blow our fucking cover?!" Inu shouts, "Like fuck! And what's killing Izuku-kun going to do?"

Bakugou turns to glare at the behemoth of a man in the back seat, he rubs his throat as red eyes watch bruises form.

"I'm not sorry Deku, fuck you." But Izuku can read between the lines, Bakugou saying he is sorry but still fuck you for trying to stop me while our friend is most likely on borrowed time.

"'S kay. We can help her."

A honk, rouses you before footsteps can be heard overhead rushing through the house before blinding light floods down into the basement.

"Finally you're awake." He flicks on all the lights, scrambling to put your feet under you so you can at least sit. Eyes flickering over the room as you try to give your throbbing, unresponsive mind to collect something, anything you can store away for later to aid your escape. Meanwhile the green eyed fucker monologues.

"It took some time for me to adjust your dose, I need you to be just under enough that you won't fight back, your heart rate spikes easily you know…." His words are lost to you as you glance over your shoulder only to wish you never did as your stomach churns in horror. Lined up against the wall behind you are women, women you had posed with.

But what haunts you is how it starts with your missing friend. Her eyes hollowed out, pitch black holes stare back at you as her skin looks paper thin, like a botched mummification or that whoever was trying to preserve her got lucky. She is still in her last scene clothes that are bloodied and torn. Your eyes struggling to follow the line as they progressively become more and more preserved, until your eyes finally land on your last instagram picture, you and that young girl. With the peace signs beneath your eyes.

She looks to still be alive, until you realize she is unblinking with glass eyes and a permanent smile with the help of a stich or two.

He notices your rigidness and frowns.

"Are you not happy? It's hard to save the eyes." He forces your face to meet him with his fingers on your skin, "I made them for you. They're your friends right? I wouldn't want my doll to be lonely."

Your breath comes in ragged huffs as rage consumes you, you were going to kill him. With whatever little power you had left, you were going to end him and savor it.

All these lives, twenty, that you could see, lost, because of you and you negligence. Your eyes glow before a prick comes at your wrist, the power dying in your fingers.

"No." You rasp out as your vision begins to fade.

"Ah come on, I just want you to be a wake for just a bit doll. Just a while longer before I make you mine."

Your world plunges into the depths of darkness.

Your dream of the girls behind you, of their scream as their preserved bodies animate, their glass eyes fixated on you as they crawl across the concrete. Their mouths smelling of formatihide and rot as they lean close to you, voices beneath water or worn by gravel.

"You did this. You killed us."