#they took so long and I had so many disasters but I love them

[cryptids-do-autism]

I used to use perler beads a lot as a small child and so about 2 years ago I picked some more up at hobby craft! Then obviously forgot about them after one use and never even ironed a few of the things I made..

However! I found them again yesterday and started making some little X-men ones because I am a tad hyperfixated

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC X DP fic idea: Phantom's number 1 fan

Danny is used to his classmates cheering for him. Well, he's used to them cheering on his ghost side, but it's the same thing.

He's a small time celebrity in the eyes of Amity Park youth. Almost everyone as Casper High adores Phantom- even the A-listers.

Ironically enough, the A-listers are some of the few who claim to be in love with Phantom. Even Dash, after the quarter back publicly came out.

Almost all of them still pick on Danny, even now as seniors. He never quite fit in even after all these years. Still pushed into lockers, mocked by classmates and deemed the number one loser again and again.

He stopped trying to fit in years ago when he became a halfa and focused on being a hero. He's gotten better now, as ghosts are less likely to challenge him. Apparently, being able to beat Pariah Dark in single combat spooked many spirits.

He instead focuses on worldwide natural disasters. With the new power to create portals to the Ghost zone as a shortcut to any part of the world, he could jump to emergencies as simplyas walking through a door.

He took some field medic lessons from Frost Bite and was on his way.

He started with search and rescue during a Tsunami. Then earthquakes, tornadoes, and even lightning storms. His parents knew and were proud of him every time Phantom appear on TV. His friends encouraged him to pressure a medical career. Danny was seriously considering it.

No one besides those he loved knew he and Phantom were one in the same.

Life was good.

That is until one stormy night when Tim Drake came knocking. The other 17-year-old stood on his porch drenched to his socks, clutching a really well taken photot of Phantom and a manic glint in his eye.

"Can I have your autograph, Danny? Im your number one fan!"

Before Danny could even think of a response, Drake tilted forward, smacking face first on the ground.

If you were to ask Tim what was he thinking ge would say " I wasn't"

See, Tim had been one of the first Phantom rescued from the giant Tsunami that Riddler had unleashed on Gotham all those years ago. His heart had been the ghost ever since. And much like all other puzzles and mysteries, it didn't take Tim long to connect Phantom and Fenton.

Seeing as Danny Fenton wanted nothing to do with the Justice League or to join any other hero team he left him alone, admiring him from afar.

Then the mission Ra al Gul happened.

He had been running on fumes, and in Tim's sleep-deprived mind, the thought of stopping in Amity Park on the way back from a mission to ask for his long-time hero and crushes autograph was the perfect idea.

So he landed the batplane, switched in civilians and knocked on the door with his heart in his hand. And the three stab wounds on his back, his broken rib and black eye.

Thankfully Danny was willing to drag him inside for medical aid.

[angelfrombeneth]

MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.

Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing

A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.

Click Clack.. Click Clack...

You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.

"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.

"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.

You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.

Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.

"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.

"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"

"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.

You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.

Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.

You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.

You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.

After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.

"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.

Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"

"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.

"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"

You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.

"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.

You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.

You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.

Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.

"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.

"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.

It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.

The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.

Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.

You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.

"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.

That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.

"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.

You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.

"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.

A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.

"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.

You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.

You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.

"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.

The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.

"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.

"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."

He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.

"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.

"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.

It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.

"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.

"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more..  please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.

"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.

"Good girl- M'close" He panted.

Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.

At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.

Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.

"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.

"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.

He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.

"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.

"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.

You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.

He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;

"Ti amo amore mio".

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

My Alpha

This is kind of a long one shot (5619 words!), but I thought I'd try my hand at the ABO!/Omegaverse. Hope you like it!

Being an omega wasn’t always a bad thing.  At least that’s what she told herself repeatedly as she religiously took hormone blocking birth control pills and wore scent blockers on the daily.  Y/N hadn’t had a heat in years and wasn’t planning on letting up any time soon.  She had started working as a personal assistant for the Avengers under Tony Stark years before, going through the Sokovia Accords debacle, surviving the Blip, losing Natasha, Tony, Steve, T'Challa, and all the other strange and traumatic things that happened during her tenure.  She had denied her biology to get this job, not wanting it to affect her performance or be a target while being surrounded by literal super Alphas in this field.  And as hard as the job was, she loved it.

One of the greatest highlights was gaining Bucky Barnes as a friend.  While other Alphas she had come across were domineering, he was compassionate and kind.  He very rarely lost his composure like others did during high pressure situations in missions, and never fought over who was in charge.  He was incredibly careful to make sure everyone around him felt comfortable in his presence.  After finally shaking the Winter Soldier programming he didn’t want to ever lose control of himself again, and with the super soldier serum messing with his hormones to the extent that he was nearly feral during ruts, he would isolate himself away to keep her and others safe.  

Y/N felt like she could talk to him about anything, and he felt the same.  She was his sanctuary after rough missions, one of the few people that could break him out of a deep depressive state or the nightmares that still plagued him.  He knew she was an Omega but could barely smell her because of her blockers, which he both loved and hated.  Loved because it made it so they could be friends without the weird biological dynamics getting in the way, and hated because he was super curious about what her scent was.  They had fallen for each other long ago, but were both too afraid to do anything about it.

As they both relaxed during a rare weekend off they got on the topic of Omega versus Alpha traits.  “I get it, Alphas can be rough, but don’t you want to mate someday?  Find someone special to settle down with?  Maybe have a family?”

She sighed.  “Of course I do, Buck.”

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked gently.

“Not having a clear choice,” she answered simply, giving him a sharp look.  “I don’t want my biology to decide my fate.  So many Omegas get stuck being mated with bad Alphas because their heats were uncontrollable and the Alpha wouldn’t take no for an answer.  I know that I’m predestined to be a nurturer.  Hell, that’s what my job is now, taking care of all of you guys!  But I should get to choose who I end up with based on love, not by body’s reactions.” Bucky nodded in understanding, looking down at his intertwined hands.  “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I just don’t know how it would work out.  This job…my past.  It all points towards disaster at any given time.”

She slid over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders awkwardly as she sat next to him.  “You deserve a happy ever after, Bucky.”

“You do, too, you know,” he reminded her, resting his head on top of hers.

“Mmh, maybe someday,” she said wistfully as she undid her embrace and leaned back against the couch.

“So, anyways,” he cleared his throat.  “Is it true that Omegas have a better sense of smell than Alphas or Betas?  Like you can pick up on others’ scents and identify them really well?”

She laughed.  “Yes, it’s true.”

“Really?  Okay, what does…” he scanned the room as other Avengers milled in and out.  “Peter.  What does Spidey smell like?” He tested her, watching her expectantly.

She took a look at Peter across the room, her nose slightly flaring as she took in a whiff from his direction.  “He always smells like fresh bagels to me.  You know the smell of just-baked bread?  Kinda like that.  Mixed with a little bit of hazelnut.”

Bucky looked at her in awe.  “Yeah I kinda get that off of him.  Alphas can smell and track scents but not to that level.”

“Hm, that’s interesting,” she said as her eyebrows furrowed.  

“Now how about Sam?” he asked excitedly, hoping it would be something not so pleasant he could tease him about.

“Ha, Sam is Cajun seasoning with a sweet lemony undertone.  Like really well done seafood,” she answered quickly with a smile on her face, knowing Bucky would be disappointed in that answer.

Bucky frowned as he thought about who to ask of next.  “Okay, how about…Steve?” He knew it was a long shot.  Steve had been gone for a few years now, so she probably wouldn’t remember.  But she gave him a soft smile.

“Steve was smoky, like fireworks.  A summer night that ends with warm apple crisp and melting vanilla ice cream on top,” she said as she stared out the window, a dazed look in her eyes as she remembered him.

“Wow…” Bucky whispered.  “I always got the fireworks, and something like a picnic.  But now that you say it, yeah, apple with vanilla.”

“Yep, he was truly all American,” she winked at him.

He laughed as he turned towards her on the couch.  “How about, um…me?”

She gazed at him, her expression softening as her nose flared again and she huffed out the breath she’d taken.  “Smoky, like Steve, but different.”

“Like gunpowder?” he asked suddenly, his eyes searching hers.  He had been told that before and was hoping they were wrong.

“No, not gunpowder.  More like…” she sniffed again but frowned.  “Do you mind if I…?” she gestured her finger from herself to him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he said, opening himself up for her to scoot closer to him.  She leaned in towards his neck, the best place to scent someone, and breathed in a slow sniff of him.  She closed her eyes.

“Campfire.  A campfire on the beach.  And the smell of the ocean after it rains,” she said resolutely, opening her eyes to look at him.  Their faces were close as he stared at her.  “But no, not gunpowder,” she reassured him.

“That’s good,” he breathed, his eyes shifting from her eyes down to her lips and back.

Her eyes suddenly widened, her brow furrowing and she pulled herself away quickly.  “I, um…I need to go…excuse me,” she said hurriedly before she jumped off the couch and power-walked down the hall towards her room.

“Wait, Y/N, are you okay?” Bucky stood from the couch as he watched her leave.

“Yeah!  I’ll talk to you later!” she yelled back without looking, her voice sounded strained.

“What the hell?” he asked himself quietly, looking around him like something had jumped out and spooked her.

Once she was out of sight she ran to her room and had Friday bolt the door.  She doubled over in pain and clutched her stomach.  “No way,” she moaned as she reached for her phone and called for help.

“Hey you, how are ya?” Bruce asked when he answered the call.

“Bruce,” her voice was pained as she held in another moan.  “I need help, something’s wrong.”

“What?  What’s going on?” he sounded worried, the rustling of papers and beeping from a screen by him going off.

“It feels…like a heat?  But that’s not possible, right?  We made sure of it,” she grunted as another cramp shot through her abdomen, and just as suddenly as it all started, it suddenly stopped, leaving her gasping.  “Wait, now it stopped?  What the hell is happening?”

“Come down to the lab, right now.  We’ll get you tested.”

She didn’t need to be told twice as she hung up and crept out of her room towards the elevator.  She was able to get in and down to the lab a few floors away without being caught by Bucky or anybody else.  She ran into the lab in a panic.  Bruce was already setting up the medical bay in the back with everything needed to do a check-up, some vials next to the other instruments.

“Hey, let’s take some blood and see what’s going on,” he called out to her when he heard the doors slide open.  She jogged to the bed and hopped up on it, taking off her cardigan so he could access the veins in her arm better.  After a quick routine check up he took a few vials of her blood then stepped out towards all the equipment he had for medical and scientific tests.  

He worked silently as she sat there deep in thought.  It can’t be, she tried to reassure herself.  I’ve been so careful.  Not missed a single pill ever.  This can’t be happening.  After about an hour Bruce came back with a screen in his hand, his eyebrows hung low over his eyes and a frown on his face.

“Y/N, it’s…it’s not working anymore,” he said softly, his eyes sad and confused as he looked at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes widening.

“The hormone blockers, the pills…your body isn’t responding to them anymore.  Your hormones are syncing back to normal Omega levels.  Your heats are going to come back.”

“No, no no no no no…NO Bruce!  I can’t.  Please, there’s gotta be another pill to try, a shot, an implant, something?  Anything, please?” she began to cry.  

“I’m sorry Y/N.  We already got you the best blockers that are available out there.  If your body is weaning off of them it means your biology is taking over, probably because you’re getting older and it’s fighting back to have a chance at mating.  I’m so sorry,” he showed her the hormone levels on a chart on the screen, pointing out the differences and then setting it down.  “There’s nothing I can do.  Nothing you can do but prepare yourself for it to start again.  And your first one is probably going to be brutal after avoiding them for so long.  You’ll need help–”

“NO!  No, I can’t do this.  I can’t ask some random Alpha for help.  This isn’t fair!” she cried harder, hiding her face in her hands.  Bruce patted her on the back, trying to help ease her pain by giving off a calming scent.  He was also an Omega and knew how much this meant to her.  

“It will be alright, Y/N.  You have friends here who will help you without making it awkward between you and them, or won’t immediately try mating with you during your heat.  They’re good Alphas.  They won’t hurt you or take advantage of you,” he promised.

She tried to calm the loud beating of her heart that was wringing in her ears, a panic attack trying to settle deep in her bones that she was fighting back.  “How long do I have until it comes?” she sighed as she sniffled.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.  With it being so long since you last had one it could be next week or it could be in a couple of months,” he answered gravely.

“Ugh, great,” she laughed as she wiped her tears away.  “No choice, whatsoever.  My body ultimately got to decide for me after all.  Wonderful,” she spat as she jumped down off the bed.  “Thank you, Bruce, for testing.  I just…I need to go sleep this off, I don’t know,” she said, giving him a quick hug and then leaving the lab.  

She took the elevator back up to her floor, her eyes stinging from the hot tears still slowly falling down.  Her heat was coming back, and with a vengeance.  She would need help.  Who would she ask?  Any of the unmated superhero Alphas would probably say yes, though she knew she only wanted one.  But how could she ask this of him?  And if he did help, how could she go on with their friendship as if nothing had happened between them afterwards?

The elevator opened and she trudged into the common room.  The floor was already dark as twilight set in and everyone had split off to their rooms.  She slipped into the kitchen since she missed dinner while down in the lab to grab something to eat, although she wasn’t particularly hungry.  As she made herself a sandwich she turned to grab a knife then saw a figure in the corner at the dining table.

“Jesus!  Fuck, Bucky you scared me,” she gasped, holding a hand over her heart.

“Sorry, honey,” he grunted as he sat watching her.  “Why are you crying?”

She stiffened as she looked at him, trying to act nonchalant as she grabbed the knife and turned back to her sandwich.  “I’m not, I’m just tired,” she waved him off, quickly cutting the sandwich and putting the ingredients and dishes away to escape.

“Don’t lie to me Y/N.  What’s wrong?” he stood, walking towards her.  She reached for the refrigerator door to get a drink, which he quickly shut and stared her down.  She wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Come on Buck, I just need a drink,” she complained as she tried to open the door again, reaching for the handle.  Bucky grabbed her wrist firmly and leaned in towards her.

“What’s wrong Y/N?  You ran away earlier and now you smell…off,” he said, searching her eyes as his nose flared at the scent she was radiating.  His frown deepened and his eyes looked worried.  “Why are you afraid?  Was it me?  Did I do something wrong?”

“No!  Oh no, Bucky, it’s not you,” she said, her eyes widening.  “It’s me, it’s just…” her eyes welled up with tears again, spilling onto her cheeks as she sucked in a sharp breath.  “It’s me,” she sobbed, leaning forward til her forehead rested against his chest.

“Oh honey,” Bucky sighed.  He put his hands under her armpits and lifted her onto the counter so she was eye level with him.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his shoulder, crying harder as he enveloped her, his hands rubbing up and down her back as he whispered reassuring words to her.  They sat holding each other for a while, Bucky letting her cry it out and Y/N relishing the comfort.  As her cries died down and her grip loosened around his neck he pulled back.

“Tell me what’s wrong, please?  You’re breaking an old man’s heart,” he pleaded, hating to see her hurting so much.

Y/N chuckled at him calling himself an old man as she wiped her nose with her sleeve.  Bucky held her face in his hands and wiped her tears away with his thumbs.  She let herself enjoy his touch before she sniffled and finally looked up at him.

“When I was talking to you earlier, I felt this weird pain,” she explained quietly.  Bucky nodded, listening intently as he held her face still.  “That’s why I ran out.  I went to Bruce’s lab to test me because it felt like…like a heat,” she sniffled again, looking down at her lap.  Bucky nodded again, his hands releasing her face and reaching for her hands to hold.  “I haven’t had one in years.”  This surprised him.  He knew there were new ways of birth control for Omegas now, giving them a lot more options than to just mate and reproduce and take care of their Alphas and pups like the old days, which he thought was great.  He just didn’t realize it could be for so long.  “And now, apparently, the hormone blockers aren’t working anymore,” she gripped his fingers tightly.  “My body is rejecting them, weaning off of them and reverting back to normal hormone levels.  My heat is coming,” she sucked in another sharp breath.  “I don’t know when, but he said it’s going to be brutal since I’ve been avoiding them for so long.  He said I’ll need help and…and I don’t know what to do.”  Her voice shook as she looked up at him again.  “I’m scared,” she whispered.

Bucky could feel her panic and gave off what he hoped was a calming scent.  It seemed to help as her eyes fluttered shut and her shoulders visibly relaxed.  The Alpha in him hummed in satisfaction as he swept his thumbs over her knuckles.  “You don’t need to be scared, Y/N.  It’s going to be okay,” he tried to placate her.  “Listen, I know earlier you said you wanted a choice, and now your body’s not giving you one.”  She nodded, a few more tears slipping out the sides of her eyes.  “I…I can help you,” he said, gulping back the lump in his throat.  Her eyes snapped up to him, a look of shock on her face.  “I know that I’m offering something kinda crazy.  But I promise you I won’t hurt you, I won’t make you court me if you don’t want to, and I won’t forcibly mate with you.”  He looked her deep in her eyes to try to get her to understand.  “But I’d be honored to help you.”

Y/N couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing.  She had wanted to ask him and now he was offering himself for her to get through this first heat.  She licked her lips and contemplated it.  “I just don’t want it to ruin our friendship,” she sniffed again, her eyes searching his face for hesitation.

“It won’t,” he said earnestly.  

“...Okay,” she agreed.  

Bucky smiled as he squeezed her fingers.  “Okay.”

“Thank you, Bucky.  You’re a good Alpha,” she thanked him, lifting his hands up and kissing his knuckles.

His eyes fluttered shut and he cleared his throat.  “You should probably not call me that, at least not right now.”

Her eyes widened.  “Oh!  God, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean–”

“It’s okay, honey, it’s fine,” he chuckled.  “Whenever it hits you, just call me, and I’ll be there.”

She gave him a warm smile in appreciation.  They were playing with fire, and they both knew it deep down, but were denying it heavily.

***

Y/N could feel her hormones changing her body and mind.  Bruce had advised against wearing scent blockers as well to help her body fully adjust and hopefully not cause as much pain during her upcoming heat, and that was the first thing she noticed.  The Alphas around her, who would normally just give her a friendly greeting or a smile, now watched her hungrily through narrow eyes, giving tight smiles as their noses flared as she passed by.  It made her self-conscious enough to ask Bucky one day, “Do I smell bad?”

Bucky looked away from the book he was reading as she plopped next to him on the couch in the common room again, lifting her feet up to rest on his lap.  She was touching him a lot more lately.  “What do you mean?”

“Do I smell bad?  Omegas can’t really smell themselves very well, and since I took off the scent blockers I’ve been…watched,” she looked around the room warily.  Bucky’s eyes swept across the other Alphas in the room, noting how they were all giving off territorial scents as they tracked her.  He sat up straight, facing each one until they caught his eye and gave off a warning rumble deep in his chest, his eyes flashing dangerously.  They each quickly retreated, shamefully turning back towards their previous tasks.  The air around Y/N seemed to lift and she felt like she could breathe again.  “Thank you, Bucky.”

He sat back on the couch, grabbing his book with one hand and mindlessly rubbing her feet with the other.  “No need to thank me, honey.  And no, you don’t smell bad.  You smell like chai.”

“Chai?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yeah, chai with…” he reached a hand out and grabbed her wrist, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply.  Her eyes widened comically at his brashness in scenting her so publicly.  “Pumpkin.  Chai and pumpkin.  Like Autumn,” he concluded, setting her wrist down and then rubbing her feet again.  He said it so casually that she just stared at him dumbfounded.  

It got worse as the weeks went on.  Her emotions were haywire, one minute she was calm and cool and the next she was agitated and easily crying at anything.  She was nesting anxiously, rearranging her room and her desk in her office, constantly carrying around a large fuzzy cardigan or blanket with her.  Her joints were sore, especially in her hips.  She found herself eating all the time.  Bruce had her come down to the lab each week to check her levels, each time warning her it could happen any day now.  

A month and a half later on a Friday night the team got together for a movie night.  They decided on watching the first Avatar, a movie Bucky hadn’t yet seen.  As it played Y/N kept fidgeting next to him, adjusting her sitting position, wringing her hands in her lap, taking deep breaths periodically.  A scene began of two of the characters connecting in a tree garden and Sam yelled out, “Alien tree sex!”  Everyone laughed but Y/N bolted out of the room.  Bucky watched her run down to her room and shut her door.

He quietly got up and followed her.  He could tell just by her scent changing these last few weeks and how it was getting stronger, the chai smell getting spicier, that her heat was fast approaching.  She had been very touchy with him, following him around and staying close whenever they were in the same room.  He had no claim to her, but it was evident to everyone to stay away from her, otherwise they’d get a growl from him.  He was growing more excited by the day, trying to remind himself that he was just helping out a friend, not staking any claim or bond.  

When he reached her door he pressed his ear against it, listening for her.  He heard her heart rate picking up and her breathing became labored.  He could also smell her, more potent, spicy, the scent of unmated Omega making his hormones sing and call out for her.  A deep rumble emitted from his chest as he felt his cock hardening.  He knocked on her door.

“Y/N,” he called out, just loud enough for her to hear.  A soft moan came from the other side.  His eyelids shut tight at the sound.  It was time.  “I’m coming in,” he warned before opening the door.  He stepped inside and was hit with the scent full force, making his eyes and mouth water simultaneously.  Y/N was laying in the nest she built on her bed in the fetal position, one hand on her stomach and the other in between her legs, not yet touching herself but keeping pressure against her core.  “Honey…” he groaned as he locked the door behind himself and walked towards the bed.

“Alpha,” she breathed, her brow furrowed and eyes shut tight.  A cramp wracked through her whole body and she yelped in pain.  “It’s starting.  It hurts…hurts so bad,” she cried as she could feel a small gush of slick pour from her pussy as her body recognized the Alpha in the room.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, I’m here,” he cooed at her, reaching his hand out and running his fingers along her leg from her ankle to her thigh.  “Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said while lifting the hem of her shorts up slightly.  She nodded and blindly started pulling at her clothes.  Bucky helped her strip out of her layers then undressed himself, giving her naked body an appreciative glance.  He lay behind her on the bed, cocooning her in his arms and leaning his head into the crook of her neck and scenting her.  He could feel himself getting drunk off of her heat.  She was sending him into an early rut as his hips rocked against her ass slowly.  Y/N keened at that, her back arching and pushing her ass into his crotch further.  He moaned at the sensation, his arms tightening around her.  “Shh, Omega.  I got you,” he said as his voice dropped further, the Alpha coming through more prominently now.

“Bucky…” she sighed, her hands gripping his arms around her.  “Please…Alpha please,” she begged, her legs shaking as another cramp hit her.

Bucky moaned at the sound of his name said that way coming from her lips.  He started to lick and suck and kiss at the scent gland on her throat, making her gasp loudly.  His scent mixed with hers, and they quickly got lost in each other.  His hands found her breasts and massaged them firmly, his fingers tweaking her nipples and making her hips buck back into him again.  He twisted her body around to face him.  She quickly molded herself back to him, hiking her leg up and over his hip, her hands scratching down his chest.  He tried to remind himself one last time that this was just a friend helping a friend.  Then she kissed him.

The kiss broke the dam of hesitancy he was holding to desperately.  He quickly responded, his mouth opening and their tongues tangling as they tasted each other.  Bucky climbed on top of her, his knees forcing hers apart.  His fingers probed her lower lips, finding her clit and giving it all his attention.  Y/N’s hips writhed as he riled her up.  She watched his fingers dip into her, making her breath stutter.  She was already dripping for him so he plunged two fingers into her, thrusting them in and out while his thumb rubbed and flicked her clit.  

“Fuck Alpha,” she groaned.  “Just like that, shit!”

Bucky smiled as she cursed, her legs shaking against his.  She reached down and took his cock in her hand, giving him lazy pumps as he got her closer to her release.  He huffed a sharp breath.  “Damn, honey, oooh that’s good,” he said lowly.  “Give it to me, love, come on, you can do it.  Be such a good Omega for me,” he encouraged her as he curled his fingers as deep as he could reach.  

The tension in her core finally snapped, her first orgasm ripping through her at lightning speed, squirting slick all over his hand and his hips.  She let out a guttural moan, the sound reverberating through the air, making the Alpha inside of him scream to claim her.  He had to physically restrain himself as he pulled his fingers out of her.  She smiled as she watched him with hooded eyes.  He put his wet fingers in his mouth and licked them clean of her slick, his eyes rolling back at the taste.

“Alpha please, I need you.  Bucky, I want your big cock inside me…please!” Y/N begged again.  Normally it would embarrass her to be acting like this, she would have never dreamed of speaking to Bucky this way.  But they were beyond the point of no return.

“Condom first, Omega,” he reminded her in his authoritative voice.  “As much as I’d love to fill you up, I don’t think that’s what you want just yet.”

Y/N pouted, but the first orgasm had helped clear her brain a little bit, and pointed to the nightstand next to the bed.  Bucky quickly reached over and pulled open the top drawer, finding the box and pulling a few of them out.  He unwrapped one and slipped it on himself before settling back between her legs, backing up a little bit.  “Present, please, Omega.”

Y/N twisted herself onto her stomach, lifting her hips high and pressing the side of her face into the bed.  Bucky almost whimpered at the sight of her sweet pussy, seeing the way he had made her drip with slick, the skin softly puckering in anticipation.  “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen Y/N, goddamn,” he whispered huskily.  She preened at his praise, her ass raising a little higher.  He gave her ass a quick slap, making her yelp and shiver.  “You ready?” he asked, making sure she was still wanting this.

“Yes, please Alpha, Bucky…please!”

“You’re so sexy when you beg,” he slapped her ass again, then grabbed her hips and aimed himself at her entrance.  He slowly pushed in the tip of his cock, the fat head catching just past her lower lips, making them both groan.  He kept pushing until he was fully seated inside her, letting her adjust to his size.  Y/N was keening again, a high pitched tone ringing through the air.  After a moment she wriggled her hips, silently asking him to thrust.  A deep growl emanated from Bucky’s throat and he pulled back until it was just the tip inside, then snapped his hips back into her hard. 

Y/N was making the sweetest noises he’d ever heard as he pummeled his cock into her.  She whimpered and moaned, making him hook an arm around her hips and lay his stomach across her back, quick huffs of his breath warming her shoulder.  He could feel her walls fluttering around him, making the rhythm of his hips stutter.  “Fuck, honey, you gonna cum?”  She nodded as her moans got louder.  He flipped her back over onto her back so he could watch her release, leaving barely any room between them as he hovered over her.  Her hands wound around the back of his neck, scratching his scalp with her nails.  “Goddammit, do that again,” he heard himself whimpering this time.  She scratched from the top of his head down to his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

He reached between their bodies and started flicking her clit as he chased his own high.  “Bucky, oh my God,” she squealed against his lips as her back arched and her legs clung to his hips.  “Yes, yes, yes, shit…mark me.”

Bucky didn’t stop thrusting but tensed at her words.  “No, Y/N, you don’t want that.”

“Yes, I do, with you, Bucky,” she gasped.

“Omega,” he warned her, his eyes flashing.  “We can talk about that when I’m not balls deep inside you.”

Y/N tensed at his Alpha command, her legs loosening around him.  “I want you to be my Alpha, my mate.”

“God fucking dammit,” Bucky stopped thrusting and leaned on his elbows above her.  “Y/N, listen to me, you don’t want that.  You said you wanted a clear choice, remember?”  Y/N was silent and wide eyed as she watched him, slightly nodding her head.  “This isn’t a clear choice.  Your first heat in how many years?  It’s your hormones talking, honey.  And believe me, I’d love to mark you, claim you, bond and mate with you.  Stuff you full of me,” he thrust again, making her eyes roll back, “and breed you with my pups.  But we can talk about all that later.  Right now, I’m here to help you through this, because you’re my best friend, and…I’m ridiculously in love with you.”  He finally said it.  “I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine.  But when it’s both of us with clear heads and a clear choice.  Okay?”

Y/N’s eyes were watery as she listened to him.  “You’re in love with me?”

Bucky huffed a laugh, “Is that all you got out of that?”

She shook her head, “No, but it’s the most important thing.  I’m in love with you.”

He smiled wide and leaned down to give a quick kiss to her nose.  “Can I continue now?”

She nodded again, and he gave her another thrust to get her going again.  Her slick started to make squelching noises as he picked up the pace again, his knot starting to catch at her entrance, his hand reaching to her clit again and trailing kisses down her throat to her scent gland, licking and sucking at it again.

“One day, if you’ll have me, I’ll bite this pretty neck,” he moaned in her ear as her fingers dug into his back.  “Make you mine.”

“Yours, all yours, Bucky…Alpha,” Y/N groaned, leaning her head up and scenting him back.  Her soft lips and her tongue against his gland had his eyes rolling in his head again and his fingers gripping her hips harshly.  “That’s right.  Mine.  Mine…mine,” he thrusted harder and faster, angling her hips up to hit deeper.

Y/N screamed his name as she finally came, her hands digging into the flesh between his neck and shoulder, scratching his scent gland and making him see stars as he came with a yell, his knot fully inflating and latching him to her as she nearly squeezed the dear life out of him.  He fell on top of her, and she held him as he calmed down, both of them panting and sweaty.  

A heady scent filled the air, a smell that screamed satisfied mates.  Bucky pulled himself to his side, holding her close so it wouldn’t hurt her to move with him, and covered them with the blankets from her nest.  Y/N was delirious after this first round of her heat, her head lolling with exhaustion.  “Rest, Omega.  We’ve still got a few days, and forever after that.”

She smiled sleepily, “Hmmm, my Alpha.”

[scary-grace]

hands-off, hands-on - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

This was inspired by this art and a comment left on it about the risks of trying to jerk off with a quirk like Decay. It was also inspired by @obsessedtomone and @scarlettcryptid, who encouraged me to write it and then to post it. The pun in the title was my idea and not their fault.

Shigaraki's quirk makes life difficult in a lot of ways, but there's only one he can't find a way around, and since you joined the League of Villains, it's gotten even worse. When the truth comes out at last, he's expecting it to be a disaster and nothing else. He definitely isn't expecting you to offer to help. (cross-posted to Ao3) Canonverse, one-shot, smut.

Shigaraki Tomura’s quirk is everything to him. It’s how he found himself alone in the world as a five-year-old, even if he can’t remember the details. It’s why Sensei took an interest in him, why Sensei took him in, why Sensei chose him to carry on his work. It’s the perfect tool for someone like Shigaraki, who hates everything, who wants nothing more than to destroy everything he doesn’t like. Decay is the best thing that’s ever happened to Shigaraki. And at the same time, it absolutely, categorically sucks.

Shigaraki might hate everything, but he doesn’t hate it all the time, and the times when he doesn’t hate it are times when he’d love to be able to just have whatever it is without being one wrong move away from ruining it. Name a thing he likes, and his quirk is ready and waiting to fuck it up – gaming, eating, sleeping, even reading the fucking newspaper. He can do all those things four-fingered, if he stays focused. It’s the stuff he can’t stay focused on that’s impossible.

He can’t stay focused when he’s horny, at least not enough to keep from potentially Decaying his dick off. Shigaraki doesn’t actually know if his quirk works on himself, and he’s not interested in finding out. And that means that no matter how horny Shigaraki gets or how many poorly timed boners he pops, jerking off is permanently off the table.

That’s not to say Shigaraki’s never finished. He has. He’s spent so much time humping pillows that he had to learn to do his own laundry. But there’s something really pathetic about being twenty years old with two working hands and still be stuck grinding on a pillow to make himself come, and it always takes so stupidly long. Now that Shigaraki’s got the League of Villains, now that he’s got plans to make and Sensei’s legacy to fulfill, he doesn’t have that kind of time. When he wakes up with the world’s worst morning wood after a dream he doesn’t remember clearly, there’s nothing he can do but wait for it to go away.

It fades – enough – but the feeling doesn’t, and eventually Shigaraki doesn’t have a choice but to drag himself out of bed. He slinks from his room to the bar, hoping it’ll be empty, with the rest of the League out and about preparing for the mission and Kurogiri somewhere nearby if Shigaraki needs him but not actually right there to ask him what’s bothering him. Shigaraki can pour his own drinks. Maybe he can get out of this if he gives himself whiskey dick on purpose. Kurogiri’s not in the bar, just like he was hoping, but it’s not empty, either. You’re there, sprawled out over the bar with a sweating glass of water on a coaster in front of you.

Shigaraki’s jaw clenches at the sight. “What are you doing here?” he demands, and you look up. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“I did it already.” You yawn. “Using my quirk tires me out.”

“Really?” Shigaraki can’t keep the irritation out of his voice. “Making people stupid is that exhausting?”

Your quirk is a weird one. It lets you increase or decrease a target’s ability to plan, reason, problem-solve, remember things, and learn – in other words, their intelligence. “From this distance, for as many people as you need me to hit?” You yawn again and drop your head back down to the bar. “Yeah. Remember, I have to keep them all being stupid the same way, right up until it’s too late. Or your plan won’t work.”

Shigaraki had the pieces of the plan before he made you use your quirk on him, but once you used the quirk on him, he did some fine-tuning on the strategy, and he came up with the idea of using your quirk the opposite way, too. While the rest of the League is planning to make the attack on UA’s summer training camp a success, you’re using your quirk every day on the heroes in charge of planning the camp itself. Shigaraki’s not actually going to know if it works until after the attack, and that pisses him off. “Go nap somewhere else, then.”

“I’m not going to bother you,” you say. “Where else am I supposed to go, anyway? Your room?”

Shigaraki’s this close to saying yes, just to get you to leave, before he remembers what his room looks like – and remembers that he spent a while trying to see if grinding one out would work this time. He can’t kick you out of the hideout. You look like shit, and you’ll attract a lot of attention. “Fine. Shut up.”

“Yep.” You fold your arms on the bar and rest your head on them, shutting your eyes.

Even when you aren’t looking at him or talking, your presence bothers Shigaraki. It’s bothered him since the beginning – as much as he’s bothered by the others, in a different way than he’s bothered by the others. While the others can at least manage to avoid pissing Shigaraki off, there’s nothing you do that doesn’t cause some kind of problem. If you’re talking to him too much, he’s annoyed because he doesn’t know why you’re talking to him. If you’re not talking to him, he’s pissed about that, too. If you’re not around, he’s mad that you’re avoiding him, and if you are around, he wishes you weren’t. The fact that you’re here was a big problem for him even before he started having the dreams.

Shigaraki can’t remember the details of last night’s dream, but he knows you were in it. He pours himself a drink, takes the bottle with him, and sits down at the far end of the bar from you. You don’t look up again, and Shigaraki finishes his first drink, then half of his second, with no improvement on the situation. He shifts on the barstool, trying to get more comfortable. He needs to find something else to do. Something that will distract him from how stupidly horny he is.

You’re right there, and being irritated with you for doing anything at all is as good a distraction as anything else. “If all you’re doing is making a couple of heroes slightly dumber, you’re not really pulling your weight, are you?”

You don’t stir, but Shigaraki sees your shoulders stiffen. “What else should I be doing?”

“More,” Shigaraki says. You lift your head to look at him dead on, and Shigaraki hates that so much that he loses his train of thought for a second. “I don’t want them slightly dumber. I want them so stupid they can’t walk in a straight line. You have to get closer to them for that? So get closer. Get out of here and –”

“If I make them that stupid, the heroes will know that something’s wrong,” you interrupt. “My quirk’s in the government databases. If I do anything too obvious, they’ll know I’m working with you, and they’ll change their plans. Or they’ll change who they’re using to execute those plans. For my quirk to work on someone, I need to know who they are.”

Shigaraki knows how your quirk works. He’s not stupid. “I could do what you want me to do, but it would ruin your plans,” you say. “I don’t want to do that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I wanted to take a nap,” you say. You sit up straight on your stool, get to your feet and start towards Shigaraki. “Now I want to know what I did to piss you off.”

You’re coming closer. Shigaraki feels a surge of panic. “Get away from me.”

“No.” You sit down one barstool away from Shigaraki, but still way too close for comfort. Shigaraki’s skin feels hot, and in spite of the fact that he left his room wearing sweatpants, they’re getting tight. “You let me join the League, but ever since I got here, I can’t do anything right. You’re mad at me all the time, and today you’re even madder than usual.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” you say. You keep staring. Shigaraki looks away, and you say the first thing he’s ever heard you say that makes you sound like a villain. “Either you can tell me the truth, or I’ll use my quirk on myself and figure it out.”

Shigaraki’s stomach lurches. “I thought you were too tired to use your quirk.”

“Not on myself,” you say. Shigaraki glances back at you. You’re almost smiling. He’s seen you smile before, talking to Toga or Magne, but not like that. “You can tell me, or I’ll find out on my own. Your choice.”

You’re not screwing around. Shigaraki thinks fast. He could Decay you, but – Shigaraki writes off the thought before he can even complete it. He has to tell you something, and it has to be convincing. But he doesn’t have to tell you everything to keep you from using your quirk. It’s going to be humiliating, but nowhere close to as humiliating as the whole truth, and he opens his mouth and spits it out. “I’m horny.”

You blink. “So jerk off.”

“I can’t.” Shigaraki sees your eyebrows lift, skeptical as hell, and loses patience, even as his face heats up. “My quirk. Anything I touch with five fingers –”

“And you can’t jerk off without –” You break off mid-question, looking just as uncomfortable as Shigaraki feels. “So you’ve never –”

“No, I have, I just –” This is way more information than you need to know. Shigaraki grits his teeth. “You wanted an answer. There’s your answer. Leave me alone.”

You don’t leave Shigaraki alone. You actually move over onto the stool next to his. “So you’re just going to be a dick to me any time you’re horny.”

It’s your fault Shigaraki’s horny. Before you showed up, he could deal with things on his own, but now instead of videos and games to fixate on he has fantasies – because he can imagine about what you’d look like under him, what you’d sound like, what you’d feel like. All of which are the worst possible things for Shigaraki to be thinking about right now. He’s completely hard, again. Maybe you can tell, or maybe you’re using your quirk on him after all, because you’re making a really weird face. “If you’re going to be a dick any time you’re horny –”

You break off. Shigaraki thinks, fleetingly, about Decaying you. At this point he’d rather Decay himself, because if even he kills you, he’ll still have to remember that this happened. You take a deep breath, let it go. “Do you want help?”

Shigaraki’s mind blue-screens for a second. “What?”

“If this is why you’re like this, then it’s easy to fix,” you repeat. Your hands are clenched into fists on your thighs, and you slowly uncurl them. “Do you want me to help?”

“Help with what?”

“Jerking off,” you say. You make an awkward gesture, and every muscle in Shigaraki’s body goes tense as he imagines your hands around his cock. You have to be messing with him. There’s no way you’re actually offering – that. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Shigaraki finishes his drink and stands up before he can think any more about it. He grimaces as his cock strains against the fabric of his pants, and feels a surge of embarrassment when he realizes you’re looking at it – but it’ll be over soon. In the face of getting some, and getting it from you, nothing else matters. “Let’s go.”

Shigaraki’s nerves kick in on the walk back to his room. Not enough to make the hard-on he’s coping with fade even slightly, but enough to remind him that this is probably a bad idea. But you’re following him, and you haven’t changed your mind. Shigaraki’s not chickening out first. The nerves get worse when he opens the door to his room and realizes what a mess it is. “Uh –”

“Where do you usually sit?” You don’t look impressed – or disgusted, now that Shigaraki thinks about it. “On the bed?”

Shigaraki sits down on the bed – which he didn’t make, because he never makes it – and you sit down next to him. You don’t do anything. “I thought you were going to help me.”

“Show me what you do,” you say. Shigaraki stares at you. His heart is racing, his pulse hammering so hard that he feels it everywhere. “Go as far as you can, and then I’ll keep doing what you do.”

That makes sense, probably. Shigaraki’s mind is startling to scramble. He decides to think about it later and catches the hem of his shirt, hiking it up and out of the way. He knows from experience that it’ll slide back, so he pins it between his teeth and reaches down to his waistband, shoving at it until his pants are down around his thighs and his cock is free.

His hard-on looks like it feels. Uncomfortable, leaking, hot to the touch when he wraps three fingers and his thumb around his shaft. Shigaraki tries a few of the same insufficient strokes as always and feels the muscles in his abdomen and thighs clench. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. A frustrated sound edges out around the fabric in Shigaraki’s mouth. Aren’t you supposed to help him? He looks at you. You’re looking away.

“Hey,” Shigaraki says, the hem of the shirt falling from his mouth, and you look at him. “You wanted to help. Pay attention.”

Your face is flushed. You nod, and you reach out – but only so you can grasp the hem of Shigaraki’s shirt and pull it out of the way again, your knuckles brushing over his abdomen in a way that makes him twitch. You’re sitting closer to him now than you were before, close enough that he can almost feel the heat of your body, and imagine how it would feel to have you pressed against him. One of your hands is holding his shirt up. The other comes to rest on his lower abdomen, fingertips brushing through his hair, centimeters away from the base of his cock.

Shigaraki squirms involuntarily, trying to move your hand lower and jeopardizing his own strokes at the same time. Even when he lifts his hips to meet his own hand, he can’t lose control the way he wants to, can’t chase the feeling he needs. He needs it. He needs it and he’s never come even close to having it, until now. Shigaraki tries to focus. You’re only going to help once he’s gone as far as he can, so he’d better get there as fast as possible.

He shouldn’t have told you to pay attention. Now you’re watching everything, your face still flushed and your eyes glued to Shigaraki’s every move, taking everything in. Do you like this? Do you like watching Shigaraki’s pathetic attempts to get himself off? Whether you like it or not, you’re still touching him when you don’t have to. Shigaraki’s fingers tighten involuntarily around his cock, his fourth finger almost coming down, and he loosens up in a hurry. But that’s no good, either. He tries again.

It’s the same as always. Shigaraki makes it one or two strokes before it gets dangerous, enough to show him what he could have and not enough to get him there. He’s sweaty and his heart is beating too hard and the same frustrated tears as always are stinging his eyes. He curses, lets go – and a warm hand slides between his legs to replace his.

Shigaraki almost comes on the spot. It takes every ounce of willpower he has, and he almost blows it again as he watches you adjust your hold on him, shaping your hand more closely around his cock. You’re slow about it, but you sure as hell aren’t hesitant. Shigaraki can’t look for longer than a few strokes. It’s too humiliating to see the intensity of his own reaction, precum oozing from the tip of his cock and his hips jerking upwards into your hand. He clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes.

“Hey. Pay attention.” Are you making fun of him? Shigaraki opens his eyes and finds you looking at him. “I need to know if I’m doing it right.”

“What do you think?” Shigaraki forces the words out through gritted teeth. “Do you need me to tell you you’re doing a good job or something?”

“That might be nice,” you muse. Your hold on him loosens slightly – not enough to complain about, more than enough to read as a threat. “Since I can’t do anything else right around here, I at least want to be good at getting you off.”

Your grip tightens again, and you run your thumb lightly over the tip of Shigaraki’s cock at the end of the next stroke. Shigaraki couldn’t pull a move like that if his fucking life depended on it, which it would. He was going to tell you not to ask stupid questions, like if you’re good at getting him off when he’s two seconds away from blowing his load all over himself, but instead he moans, so loudly that people can probably hear it two streets away. You replay the same stroke, slower this time, pulling Shigaraki’s back into an arch to match the upward motion of your hand, and then you spend a few seconds just toying with his tip, barely touching him at all.

Are you trying to make him squirm? Shigaraki hates that it’s working, hates that you won’t just give him what he needs – but then you’re back to stroking his cock again, and Shigaraki relaxes, as much as it’s possible to relax. It feels good, even better than he thought it would. And even better than that, because he doesn’t have to do anything. All he has to do is sit back and enjoy it.

“Hold your shirt up,” you say, and Shigaraki grabs it clumsily. Your now-free hand traces quickly down Shigaraki’s chest, along his stomach, skidding sideways over his hip before sliding between his legs. There’s not room for both of your hands. Shigaraki spreads his legs without thinking twice.

You make a weird sound – maybe a gasp. “Stop that,” you say, but now you’re cradling his balls in addition to stroking his cock, so Shigaraki’s not interested in stopping much of anything. “It’s working.”

No shit it’s working. Shigaraki’s entire body is wound tight, so much that he can’t even twitch or thrust or squirm – all he can do is strain, agonizingly tense, every atom of his body focused on the motion of your hands. Shigaraki squeezes his eyes shut. His shirt crumbles away as he claws at it, the sheets on his bed going the same way a second later as he fights to ground himself. He needs more. Shigaraki needs to come right now, before he grabs onto something he can’t replace.

The word struggles out of his mouth sideways, twisted and strained just like the rest of him. “Please –”

You don’t answer him, but Shigaraki feels you shift closer to him. He opens his eyes and you’re right there, close enough that he can feel your breath against his skin. You’re watching him, head tilted, lips parted, so close. Shigaraki’s so close, and he needs more from you. He seizes the front of your shirt to pull you down to him, only for it to Decay when you’re halfway there. But Shigaraki gets lucky. You lean in the rest of the way and press your lips against his.

It’s not because of that. Shigaraki’s coming hard enough to see stars, hard enough that he blacks out for a second, but it’s not because you’re kissing him. His cum spills everywhere, onto his sweatpants and his stomach and over your fingers, and you keep stroking him with slick hands. You don’t pull away until Shigaraki’s whining against your mouth and you’ve drawn out every drop of cum he has to give.

And then you sit back, and let go, and look away. “I need a new shirt.”

You’re sitting next to him, on his bed, in just your bra. The sight would get Shigaraki hard again in an instant if you hadn’t just made him come hard enough to disconnect his spine. He raises a shaky hand and points to his hoodie, slung over the back of his computer chair, but you don’t go for it. Instead you get up and head to the bathroom to wash your hands.

Shigaraki needs to wash everything. His sweatpants, himself – the stupid mattress, since he was dumb enough to Decay the sheets off it right before he blew what feels like the biggest load in history. What else was he supposed to do, though? No way was he going to be able to control himself while you worked him over. No way is he going to be able to think about anything else the next time he sees you do anything with your hands. Or with your mouth.

It occurs to Shigaraki vaguely that while he’s solved the initial problem of being too horny to function, he’s set himself up for something even worse – more dreams, made all the more vivid because he’s got experience to back them up. He might be good to go for now. Probably for the rest of the day, since it’ll be a miracle if he can do anything other than clean up and take a nap. But he’ll be right back where he started the next time he wakes up from another dream about you.

The water from the sink shuts off, and a moment later you come back out, snagging Shigaraki’s hoodie off the chair and pulling it on over your bra. Shigaraki feels a faint twinge of foreboding at the sight, but it fades fast. Sure, he could wake up tomorrow morning with the boner from hell and it’ll be all your fault. But now he’s got a way out of it, and the way out of it is so good that what it takes to get there barely even matters. And he’s in a good enough mood to admit to himself that you do things right a lot more than you do things wrong.

Which reminds him – “Hey,” Shigaraki says, still humiliatingly breathless, and you pause in the act of pulling the hood up. “You did a good job.”

He might still be out of breath, but your face is still flushed. “Good,” you say, and you turn to leave. Shigaraki doesn’t hear you speak again until you’re already out the door. “Next time I’ll do better.”

Better might kill him. Next time. Shigaraki pulls up his sweatpants so his dick isn’t hanging out, makes no other effort at cleaning up, and falls asleep with something that feels like a smile on his face.

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf (III)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 2,291

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, depression, mentions of miscarriages, stillbriths, love confessions, family reunion, marital difficulties, angst, not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

dividers by @zaldritzosrose

authors note: the timeline does not follow the book so don't come for me for changing things. sorry if this seemed rush honesltyi dont like it but i think it works well and makes a good chapter to lead into the epilouge.

In the year of 134AC, 3 years after the end of the dance of dragons, and three moons into your marriage with Cregan stark you finally made your way to kings landing after years apart from your beloved brothers.

Viserys and Aegon were no men almost grown, with Viserys a wife and child on the way and Aegon, now married to Daenaera Velaryon, though their marriage remained unconsummated.

The reunion had been a sad one, with many tears shed as you finally saw your brothers after years apart.

“Aegon! Viserys” you cried out as you ran out of the carriage to greet your brothers, your arms wrapping tightly around them, scared to let them go. Tears filled your eyes as you kissed their cheeks.

“I have missed you so dearly” you said to Aegon before looking over at Viserys, your mouth stuttering as you tried to find the right words “Vizzy, I have…oh gods-“ you cried out pulling him in for a hug once more “your all grown up!” you said, “a man grown” shaking your head as you hugged him closer.

He cried on your shoulder as you did, his arms never leaving you even as you introduced him to Cregan.

“This is Cregan…my husband, and the new lord hand.”  

“An honour to see you again” Aegon greeted, moving away from slightly from you to shake Cregan’s hand.

“As it is for me, my king” Cregan replied to Aegon head bowed.

And though Kings Landing had changed much, filled with new faces and on the rare occasions a familiar one, you still hated it.

You had thought seeing your brothers here, your sisters, it would feel like a home again,

But no.

You despised the viper pit.

There was more scheming and ploys than before and you were now at the centre of it.

with Cregan as hand and the death of your grandsire as regent, new faces took the role of councillors you had only just grown to trust.

Many of your mothers’ own advisers, advisers you had made Aegon promise to keep on his council had died in the winter fever the year before.

And perhaps that was why you hated Kingslanding, though a fifth of their population was taken, and 90% of that being the smallfolk, so many you had known, trusted and cared for had died and you never even knew.

The halls seemed more haunted now.

Not just haunted of by the faces of your family, of your uncles and brothers.

Of your mother.

But of them also.

You regretted coming with Cregan, and you hated yourself for it.

You had though and thought to stay here, arguing with him before the wedding for just this, to stay.

You know whished to take Silverwing and ride her to Winterfell and never return.

It was only the love you had for your brothers and Cregan that made you stay.

The memory of when first admitted your love for each other playing over and over again, as if it would somehow make you love this place once more.

“Cregan” you had sighed, now alone in your shred tent after a hard long day of ridding, the bath water doing little too sooth your joints.

He sighed your name in return, turning to face you as he undressed for bed.

“Do you love me?” you asked, trying to keep a casual tone to your voice, though you couldn’t hide the hope in your voice.

He smiled softly, moving towards you, taking your hand in his, “I have loved you since I first met you, and I do not think I ever will”.

You smiled, kissing his lips softly, “I love you, I have for so long, even when I hid behind my grief.”

“Really? I did not think you liked me much, after the war.”

“I did! And I hated it, I wanted to through myself into my grief and yet a part of me felt pained that I loved you and you did not know. I hated ignoring you, there always seemed to be a tether tying me to you.” You said shyly. “I hated that you were the reason I was pulled from my grief, I didn’t want my happiness to depend on you, but now…I am glad it is”.

She was glad to have him, he filled the whole left by her family’s deaths, though it was a different kind of love and wholeness she was glad for it.

But it did nought, not as you became and aunt, you fell back into the slow misery you felt before.

Feeling lost and haunted. Surrounded by ghosts talking to you day after day, ghosts you could not hear but faces haunted your dreams.

You didn’t tell anyone though.

Your family was happy, despite the death of Corlys or Baleas husband.

They all seemed happy here, laughing and enjoying the feasts.

The only person who could see your misery was Aegon, but even then, he didn’t understand.

It was clear he was haunted by your mother, of her death. But his was misery was he could push aside, and when with his family all he had was joy.

And yet you still felt that death followed you even more.

More as you felt the death of your child, spending hours, days on the birthing bed only to be greeted with a still born child.

More so as you felt the blood trickle down your legs time after time as you tried and tried to carry another pregnancy to term.

Your heart continued to break and Cregan could see your misery and so he insisted on you retuning to Winterfell, and you agreed.

Being back in Winterfell made you lose the feelings you had in Kingslanding, made you feel safer.

Made you feel at home.

And you felt lighter here.

Then Cregan was called back to Kings Landing and the emptiness found you again.

But you forced it to the side, hoping if you ignored it long enough it would go away.

And gods were you wrong.

You had plunged yourself into work, trying to help the north recover, from its weakened state following the famine caused during the winter fever.

 A year passed, now 136AC, a year away from your husband, from your brothers.

You became a ghost once more; all healing had vanished and the person you said you would become if Cregan sent you here alone had come.

 “Without you I will…I will only find that hollowness I felt for moons, the sadness will return without you to…to comfort me, to hold me and cherish me. I cannot be alone, I may rely on you a little too much, but I cannot bear to…”

And it had, you were hollow, and you were sad. But instead of letting it spill out of you as it had before, you kept it hidden.

Putting on a strong front, you wanted to be the fierce lady of Winterfell no matter how much you were breaking inside, no matter how much you wished for Cregan to see through your flowered words on paper and to come back to you.

And though he did come back to you, it was not because of you, but of Sylas the Grim.

A wilding chieftain who led a large force of 3,000 south of the wall and was plundering the lands of the gift.

Cregan arrived soon after you sent news of Sylas attacks. You yourself had tried to scare them off, using Silverwing to burn their trail. But they continued their plundering.

And so Cregan led the rallied forces of the north and attacked the wildings, leading yet another victory.

You had watched from the sidelines, sat atop Silverwing awaiting Cregan’s signal. But he never gave it, never looked over to where you waited. Only greeting you as you made your way into the festivity’s hours later. Having taken Silverwing over the wall and burning down all trees beyond the wall, within a 100-mile radius.

He had been surprised but grateful for your actions. But his gratefulness was soon overlooked as the drunken men of the north started to sing.

And you once again sat in your seat and let the hollowness within you start to show.

Later that night, after going to bed hours before Cregan, you and him finally spoke.

“Cregan?” you muttered, lifting your head from the pillow as he tumbled into the room.

“Wife!” he replied, his tone joyful, “I have missed you” he sang, “you’re going to come back with me to kings landing!” he spoke, looking at you expectantly, as if expecting you to dance in joy.

“no” you said, sitting up.

“No?” he said, suddenly sobering up. “Why not? Do you not miss your brother? Or me?”

“Every second of everyday”

“Then come to kings landing”.

“no”

“Why not?” he said, his tone almost aggravated.

“It is haunted” you spoke, your voice in hushed whispers as if the ghosts would somehow appear in your chambers.

“Everywhere haunted, even Winterfell” he said, looking at you, truly looking at you.

He took note of your sunken eyes, your dead eyes.

You looked just as you had those first few years here, and he hated how what you had said would happen had come true.

“no” he muttered, moving towards you “no…my love my sweet wife…what has happened?”

You broke down in tears, telling him what you felt, a years’ worth of emotions spilling out of you and the tears never stopped.

You must have spent the night crying in his arms, begging him to stay and never leave you again.

“please” you begged, “I can’t…I can’t go back there, and I can’t be without you”.

“okay” he said, thinking hard, “I will give up my place as hand”.

“I can’t ask that of you- “

“You can, and I must” he shook his head, cradling you in his arms “I have neglected you for too long and I am so sorry, I love you, I hope you know that” he said, hand caressing your cheek.

“you’ll stay”.

“Yes…always”

Giving up the position of hand of the king had been like a wight had lifted of his shoulders.

But seeing the state of his with had placed a heavier weight on him.

Feeling his heart break and his own betrayal fill him as you cried in his arms he felt he was a disappointment.

He had seen your loss, her grief and in his own he had pushed you away.

And though he had recovered, he should have known that you couldn’t, not by yourself, not when you still had so much grief left from the war still.

you had always been soft and gentle, always so Intune with your emotions that they overwhelmed you, and he had somehow overlooked that fact and sent you away.

And unlike last time he didn’t have the wedding or retuning to kings landing to look forward to. There was nothing really to look forward too, other than the one thing the gods had deprived you off.

A babe.

You had tried and tried, but three miscarriages and one still birth had wrecked you.

In truth had he not had the lords breathing down his neck once more for an heir then he would never have made you try in the first place and yet it was what you craved, despite the duty you wanted a babe.

And now as his cock filled you and hit all the right spots, this moment were their was no grief, no death no duty to fulfil, just you and Cregan.

“Cregan” you moaned, your face falling into the pillows as he pounded into you “please” you begged into the pillow, you felt your peak approaching as he entered you out, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

He held onto your hips, his cock focusing on that spot as his finger moved down to your clit, bringing you to your second peak of the night, as he filled you with his seed.

You collapsed on the bed, as he pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

You relaxed into a comfortable silence, a silence you both often found yourself in.

‘I love you” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

And for the first time in a year you said it back, “I love you, too”

You fell into your roles as lord and lady of Winterfell easily. Finding you rather enjoyed your duties even more when they were not used as a distraction.

And even though there was some tension between you and Cregan still, you found the love you felt for one another made everything easier, especially when you had spent nights crying in grief and regret at refusing your brothers request to return to Kingslanding even if only for a few days.

You hated saying no, but they seemed to understand. Your duty was to Winterfell now, and they understood.

Egg had understood your need to leave before, himself feeling the same as he told you he considered moving to Dragonstone but fearing hell find more hurt in those halls than that of the red keep.

And now with news of Aegon’s tour around Westeros you were excited to see him once more, too show him your home.

A home you did not regret him having no place in, and as the years passed with a few visits here and there form your brothers you found you rather liked the distance.

Finding that perhaps your grief weas in the guilt of only them and you surviving and not Jace, Luke or Joffrey. The boys who were truly your brothers before they were ever kings or princes.

authors note: next part is the epilouge!

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to be added to taglist

[blueaetherr]

past is prologue (onward)

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): the idea of blue, fic more lengthy than usual, angst?

summary: the one where two disasters realise that things could have been drastically different between them

Sitting out in the back patio Y/N let herself relax on the couch, controlled deep breaths and a hat over her face to block out the late evening sunset. She had done more than enough to warrant a break from everything. From bringing her younger siblings to and from school, to also cooking and cleaning for the afternoon that just came around.

All she wanted to do was indulge in nothing and just rest— that's all she could ask for. Still, it remained so hard to receive when others were out to disrupt her calm.

When the hat was removed from her face she opened her eyes, rubbing the fatigue out of them. Realising who had stolen the hat, she sat up quickly. Her voice came out small and groggy when she began to speak. "Hey! Jobe gave it to me—"

Jude let out a loud laugh, one that stemmed Y/N in her sentence. "And it's not even his. He took it from me." Rounding the couch he took a seat on the other end of the couch, lifting her feet on his lap so he too could be included under the blanket. He chuckled again when she remained unphased by his actions; it had happened way too many times before for her to care, especially knowing that she wouldn't get her way in the end.

Due to being neighbours—whether this was reflected in the interaction or not—the two have known one another since their young days. Only, they weren't friends; instead Y/N was friends with Jobe while Jude was friends with her older brother. Y/N and Jude, on the other hand, were only conditional and slightly familiar. Their friendship (or the lack thereof) failed to exist beyond their families.

So whenever their families came together to share Friday dinners, whenever their families had outings together– times that were meant for happiness and laughter– they could be around one another for so many hours without actually hanging out or conversing. For the sake of their families, the farthest they could and would go together was being friendly and accommodating within reason.

"Why are you even here anyway?" Y/N huffed out a breath. She waved towards the garden, where her older brother, younger siblings and Jobe were playing football together. "There's plenty to do, you know, besides occupying my space." It's not that she didn't want to be around Jude (or maybe that's exactly what it was). It's more that they had spent a lot of time together that day and besides going to bed, she wanted a moment alone to allow herself to dwindle down from the long day she had had.

Leaning his head back Jude wore his hat backwards. "Yeah, it's just— well." He wore a smile, one that was mild yet overtly sarcastic. "I know if I go inside, your mum will start asking me about my love life, and I'm resting for when I go back to Madrid so..."

"Right, right. So then your only remaining option is to follow me around all day?" For two people who didn't identify themselves as friends, they had spent a lot of the current day in each other's spaces. Jude had accompanied Y/N to bring her younger siblings to and from school, he had somewhat helped her to prepare dinner for that afternoon and he had offered to help with the dishes after everyone had finished eating.

"No, of course not," Jude shook his head before pointing to Y/N, "You just find yourself in places where I want to be too."

She took a moment to simply stare at Jude, slightly bothered and dazed at his words before pushing herself further into the couch and sighing deeply which only encouraged Jude to laugh more. Truthfully, she didn't have the energy to debate him. She could definitely win against him but Jude would never view it as such. It was something Jude and her older brother could do without getting exhausted; that was something she would have to leave for them to do with each other.

Letting his laughs falter he decided to give Y/N some peace. Given how her day had gone, especially since he had been with her for most of it, he could admit that she deserved some moment of rest. So he chose to keep to himself.

Or, at least, Jude tried to keep to himself. He tried to remain occupied on his phone, he tried to remain secluded in his mind and thoughts, he tried to keep his eyes solely on those playing football in the garden. So much for prevention yet his eyes eventually wandered back to Y/N. Somehow, they always did.

He wasn't aware of all of the attributes that made up Y/N but one thing was for sure; she was people-orientated. She loved community—creating it, embracing it and contributing to it. Always did she make herself the sender. And whenever she did receive something, she would find a way to send back more. She was selfless and outward, always extending herself to others whether they were in need of something or just in want of her company.

It wasn't hidden knowledge or anything, he saw it well with everyone she interacted with. She never displayed any signs of annoyance when dealing with her younger siblings, always showing them grace when they would ask overwhelming questions that would stump the average person. She had a healthy mix of banter and genuine friendship with her older brother. She got along well with the parents, so much so that he wouldn't be surprised if they viewed her as the pride and joy between the two families.

And of course, there was what she had with Jobe.

"Blues," he whispered before repeating with much more voice, "Blues." When Y/N finally looked away from her phone, he continued, "Jobe calls you that."

She let her eyes drift around before turning to Jude, nodding slowly. "He came up with it, yeah."

Jude tilted his head to the side. "What's that all about?" Suddenly, his curiosity was ignited. He knew that's what only Jobe called Y/N on the regular. Blues had been established as a nickname for years yet Jude had no insight as to what it meant.

"Well..."

"Blue like the oceans and the sky... fairly common yet unique. You are ordinary and extraordinary all at the same time."

A touch of a smile reached her lips at the mention of the memory. There was nothing remarkable about it. It was simple and nice and mundane yet Jobe made it so much more for her, and she would never find herself ever forgetting it. But while it was all simple and nice and mundane, the next thing Jobe had told her was to not tell Jude the meaning behind her nickname. So she had to improvise.

"Blue – it's my favourite colour. But I also like all different shades of blue, hence Blues and not Blue," she explained briefly. A half-truth she told. Blue, indeed, was her favourite colour, that was partially why Jobe found the nickname so fitting for his friend. The lie was that it was his main reason behind the nickname. Instead, her favourite colour being blue was simply just the inspiration.

He hummed, nodding. "I like that, really. I do," Then there it was, his face grew timid with delight towards Y/N. He wasn't mild or sarcastic about it like previously, just genuine. Jude continued to broaden the scope of the conversation, something beyond the norm for the two. "That and what you have with Jobe. It's not hard to tell that you're really good for him."

Jude didn't know everything about Y/N and his brother, Jobe kept their friendship relatively exclusive. But from what Jude saw and from what the two allowed him to see—their pictures together, watching them hang out from afar, their conversations during car rides—he knew that Jobe and Y/N were vibrant, comfortable, and lasting. But above all, they were them. Whatever type of friendship they shared was inconsequential; all they needed to function was for one another to be present and everything else about them would work out perfectly.

"Is that a compliment I'm hearing?" You couldn't see it at first glance; her eyes were low and tired, and her voice stumbled but Y/N meant to be irritating towards Jude. It was rare for her to ever have a victory like this to hang over his head.

Jude leaned his head back against the couch and groaned, placing his hand over his face. It was then he remembered why he rarely ever let her have any sort of win over him— having even the slightest wins against him only built her ego up for when she did win against him. "Can I take it back?"

"Oh, absolutely not," she shook her head and laughed slightly. In that moment, weirdly, she found her body easing. Her shoulders were slacked, and her breaths were moderate and easy. She was relaxed, something she hadn't been able to get a hold of in a minute. "This might be the highlight of my day."

"I'm just saying, yeah," Jude emphasised, his voice slowly overriding her laughter. "What you have with Jobe—with everyone—really has me thinking about what we could have together."

She paused her laughs as her face crunched up. "What?" Y/N would never admit it, but she had been enjoying the conversation with Jude up until now. It made sense to talk about her and Jobe, that was a given. But her and Jude? She didn't see the point of centring a conversation around the two. Besides, she couldn't really imagine having one if there wasn't much to them besides their families' ties to each other.

His eyes widened when he noticed her change of expression. "Not like that—" Jude huffed out a breath, "I mean, like, I wonder what it would've been like if we had become friends, you know, back when we were kids."

While Y/N always rid her thoughts of Jude, he failed to do the same for her. In his own time and place, he thought about her and him. From time to time, Jude did wonder about what it would be like if the two had become friends. About how it would be like if it had been Y/N and Jude instead of Y/N and Jobe. For all the time they spent in the same space but not together, for all the times all the older siblings would go out together but they would never speak a word to one another—what if they actually spent all that time as friends rather than as friendly?

They were weird, awkward and often out of place with each other; that was their dynamic unapologetically. Still, it remained something that Jude wanted to explore more. There wasn't much to them yet he took his time wondering about the endless what-ifs of their relationship. Did they actually amount to something significant beyond their mandatory hellos and goodbyes?

"Yeah, obviously." Y/N narrowed her eyes at Jude for a moment. She failed to understand what he meant by not like that. Nonetheless, she continued. "Well, you never made it appealing to be friends. Still don't too." While there was joke behind her voice, her words upheld common truth.

Even during their earlier years together, there were times when she tried to be friends with Jude. I mean it made sense, seeing how their families quickly grew close to one another. But every time Y/N gave Jude her attention, every time he ever gained her attention, he would only respond with unfunny and dense jokes—something that he exclusively only did to her and no one else. It was because of those memories that Y/N consciously avoided Jude. She just wanted to protect her peace.

Focusing her glance on Jude, she quickly noticed the awkward expression settled on his face and scoffed out a small laugh. Good. And even though he didn't deserve it, Y/N decided that she would try to brighten the mood for a second. "You technically— we should have to be honest."

"Yeah..." Jude nodded absently before pausing. He realised that he actually didn't know what he was agreeing with. "Wait, what are you on about?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "What— your brother hasn't told you?" From talking with Jude and her conversations with his brother, she knew that Jobe wasn't secretive about his business with Jude. But then again she also knew that he didn't speak about her to Jude either.

Jude looked around in thought before shaking his head. "No. I don't even know what you're talking about."

"Oh. Well, I might as well tell you." Y/N sat up properly before continuing. "Basically, when we'd first moved over here my mum told me to make friends with the neighbours' kids—you and Jobe. She told me your names and ages, and I'm thinking cool I'm going to become friends with the older brother. But by the time I was standing at your front door I'd forgotten who was who." It was then that Jude's eyes flickered with realisation. "... So when your mum answered the door I was too shy to ask who was who. So I just introduced myself, gambled it and said, can Jobe come out to play?"

"Wait—" Again, Jude had to pause before speaking. He didn't want to stumble on his words. "I was your intended friend and not Jobe? Wait. So what were you thinking when you found out you were wrong?"

She shrugged. "Nothing. Jobe told me his age, I thought oh and that was it. I didn't really mind 'cause I found out that we were similar in a lot of ways. Besides, you'd become friends with my brother and literally all you guys did was play FIFA so I didn't stress trying to be friends back then."

His face scrunched up as he placed a hand over his heart. "Ouch."

"I promise. I meant no harm with it," she said rolling her eyes, but it wasn't from annoyance. Instead, it was from unknowingly sharing banter with Jude—an interaction fairly uncommon for the two.

Jude hummed lowly and bit the inside of his cheek, nodding. He didn't want his broadening smile to be so evident. "So you came to my house that day, intending to become my friend?" Truthfully, Jude didn't care that he was being forward, or that he was repeating a question that had already been answered with more than enough clarity. He was excited and shocked and wanted to uncover more where his knowledge previously lacked.

"Yes, Jude," Y/N affirmed, "I came to your house that day intending to become your friend." The statement made Jude beam so hard, showcasing a grin so familiar to Y/N, one that she found herself admiring and hating all at the same time. "It made more sense for me to since we're the same age. But that's not to say that I didn't want to be friends with Jobe 'cause he was younger. I think even if we had become friends, I think me and him would've still become friends. Probably even better than if you and I did."

Jude let his mind wander. All this time he thought that he and Y/N were naturally incompatible in every single way, that she could only have something meaningful and wonderful with his brother, that they were confined to the bounds of their current dynamic. I mean he was right to think so, it pained the two to go beyond their hellos and goodbyes.

But it turns out when you went back far enough—when you returned back to their origins—they were supposed to be friends, to have everything she shared with his brother. After all, she initially had sought out friendship with him. He could've been the one to give her the nickname Blues. They could've been the pair who had a dynamic that was vibrant and comfortable and lasting. He could've been the one to have Polaroids of him and her hanging all around his bedroom. Jobe had unknowingly taken his intended best friend.

"I'm gonna remind him of this every day now," Jude clasped his hands together as he hung his head back, soft laughter escaping into the evening air. "It's only right."

"Be easy on him. He's sensitive like that."

"I don't think he'll mind. Like you said, he shouldn't have been your friend in the first place." There was a curt moment of silence before Jude continued, suggesting, "I take that as a sign for us to become friends. You know, like you had intended."

"Yeah... I don't know if I would want to," Y/N strung out a long breath. Her enjoyment for their discussion was slowly drifting away. Something about it just felt inappropriate and misplaced, like she and Jude shouldn't have been having it in the first place. He was reaching, and all she wanted to do was pull away. "Besides, life didn't end 'cause we aren't. In fact, I think it's thriving just fine."

"I'm just saying, I think we should give it a try—"

"Jude," Y/N said with a blank stare, "No."

Jude paused in his movements. The seriousness in her body language and voice wasn't difficult to catch onto. "No, what?"

She let out a light scoff, shaking her head. "I just don't understand you. Now— now because I give you some revelation about how I did intend to be your friend some years ago that now you want to be friends? I've been trying to be your friend for such a long time and you rejected me every single time. My intention to be your friend didn't just stop after I became friends with your brother. You're some many years too late."

So much feeling, so much pent-up anger and hostility and distrust, and Y/N didn't even realise it until now. At some point, she was having fun with their conversation—it was laid-back and easy-going, something she needed after a long day. But the more she let Jude rant, the more she realised she needed to sober up and quick.

There was something about the way Jude was talking that she couldn't bring herself to like. Discussing the pair like he needed to know that hidden fact to consider being her friend. Talking like the idea of her being friends with Jobe and him was mutually exclusive when in fact, it wasn't. When all of this time Y/N would have liked to be friends with Jude regardless.

They could have been friends. That's what Jude kept mentioning over and over again. Mentioning all these what-if-isms like they were a missed opportunity by the fault of the universe. Though in reality, only Jude was at fault. Y/N had wanted to be friends with Jude for the longest time yet he always managed to push her away over and over and over, until she chose to give in and eventually walk away.

Jude and Y/N weren't friends because of his own mistakes and she didn't like that he was acting ignorant to that.

"So yeah Jude, I'm annoyed at you for that! But I'm also annoyed at myself 'cause somehow I still want to be your friend." Y/N frowned as she felt her anger deflate. The anger was slowly fading, leaving only dismay to settle. "I see you how are with your brother, my brother, the kids, your fans, your teammates—everyone! I only hear good things about you. I only see good things about you and so that's my perspective of you. But you never offer me that perspective of you so clearly I did something wrong, right?"

The way Jude was interested in his brother's friendship with Y/N was the same way she was interested in Jude's relationship with everyone else; weirdly, she wanted a part of it too. He was overly helpful with her mom, a mature young man around her dad, playful with her younger siblings, boyish with her older brother. So many desirable aspects for an individual yet she never witnessed any of it for herself, not even by accident.

So Jude counted Y/N out— made her the odd one out. So much so that there was that one wonder on her mind: what did I ever do for you to act like all I have to extend to you is misery?

Opening his mouth he stumbled on nothing before he found his voice, now small and careful. "Can I tell you something?" There was no pride in it but for once, Jude saw Y/N. For once he saw her vulnerability, her anger and her frustrations—and all directed towards him. She was on edge because of him, and he knew that everybody would be on his case if it came to their attention so he proceeded with caution.

Y/N sat back a bit as she folded her arms. "Can't be anything worse than what you've already told me before."

"Okay, I— uh." Despite the demanding pressure on his shoulders, Jude knew that he had to take his time with his words. He cleared his throat. "Jobe doesn't talk about you two a lot, but he likes to talk about you though still not enough that I would know a lot about you. And when he talks about you he likes to brag about you being friends with him instead of me, kind of suggesting that you know... you've never wanted to be friends with me. So I kinda spent growing up thinking you disliked me."

"I've always wanted to be friends," Jude exhaled the confession, and quite shamelessly. He couldn't afford to lie anymore. A hint of a sad smile surfaced across his lips. "That's why I was excited when you told me that you intended to be friends with me instead of him. That at some point you wanted to be friends with me... and now I know you still do."

For a moment there was discomfiting silence between the two. There was a lot that Jude spoke—a lot of talk that Y/N hadn't previously been aware of. So much talk to continue discussing, so many wonders to be stuck on, so many questions to ask yet she didn't. There was one thing he had said that stuck out to her. "And he still brags to you about me?"

"Yeah," Jude confirmed, "More now than when we were younger."

She cocked her head towards him. "Why though?" Y/N could understand Jobe speaking about her to Jude but to brag? It seemed like a bit of a stretch from what she knew about her friend. Besides, Jude always made it apparent to others that he and Y/N were strictly friendly, so what was there to brag about?

But the thing was, there was something for Jobe to brag about. Jude had the answer; it was clear in his head but he knew he couldn't pronounce it. To acknowledge the answer right now would be misplaced and careless, especially with so much anger and regret going around. So he shifted his gaze away from Y/N, sighing. "I don't— I don't know."

She felt like there was more for him to say, but she had nothing to justify her intuition. She gave Jude a pointed look but his glances indicated I have nothing else to say, so she let to conversation falter. "Okay."

And when the conversation faltered there was only calm and stillness between them, only background noise occupying the time. Familiar and common background noise—excitement and kids' laughter light in the air, footballs hitting football nets with ease, distant chatter and debates among their parents. Still, Jude and Y/N remained in silence.

They had to sit with themselves and with one another for a quick second. For some time there hadn't been much to Jude and Y/N, almost like they were destined to never share any genuine friendship. They never allowed for anything to happen between them, attraction always working against their favours. They weren't friends but simply friendly for the sake of others. 'Cause behind all of that were two individuals who carried so much mal feelings for one another, whether those same feelings could be justified or not.

Jude disliked Y/N just to dislike her, while Y/N disliked Jude because of his dislike towards her—that's what it seemed from the surface.

But in reality, by the fault of each other, their feelings for one another were misguided and narrow. Somewhere in the beginning there had been a misreading of feelings. It started with Jude, continued with Y/N and it ended in their devastation. The devastation in the fact that they could have been something. Maybe not Y/N and Jobe something or Jude and her brother level something, but something much better than what they currently were.

Jude was right to emphasise over and over that they were supposed to be friends. That's what was intended by Y/N and by extension, intended by the stars and the universe. Everything about them was predetermined. Their foundation was there and all they had to do was settle in it. But because Jude had been so guided and moved by Jobe's words, because Jude had made Y/N feel unsure about herself, because Jude and Y/N only held feelings of anger, dislike and distrust towards one another—all misplaced and unwarranted—they were never allowed to develop a true friendship, something beyond just being friendly and cordial.

Fault didn't equally fall on both of them but it was still shared between them.

Soon, Jude returned his gaze back to Y/N. With a kind tone he expressed, "I'm so sorry, Y/N, for everything. I made assumptions and I took it all out on you. I was wrong to make you feel that way for so long over something I thought was right. I'm sorry, really."

Just as Y/N was about to respond, the pair's attention shifted towards the youthful voice calling out to Jude. It was her younger sister who came running towards him in pure excitement and laughter, the emotions only really found in kids. As she settled into his arms Jude and Y/N shared a look—let's hold this conversation for a second—before Jude let his attention solely focus on the young girl in his arms.

He let the young girl drive their conversation. Her eyes were wide from childish amusement, hand gestures offering both realism and exaggeration to her words, the conversation moving faster than the words she was pronouncing. And still, Jude kept up. Exclaiming a wow and really! here and there, finding interest and curiosity in her interests, agreeing with almost every point she made, making her laugh whenever he felt like she lacked some happiness in the slightest, being patient whenever she struggled with her words. In their short time together, Jude was there to encourage her to lift up her voice and speak with liberty.

And for that Y/N was grateful, truly. For always validating her younger sister, for not counting her out over the small mistakes she made. Maybe it was unwise and careless of her but it made Y/N wonder if that would be them soon enough.

Noticing that her younger sister had fallen asleep– who had been so taken by Jude's mumble singing and humming– Y/N took that as an opportunity to resume the conversation. She offered Jude a gentle smile. "Thanks, Jude."

"Yeah, it's fine," he said absently as he pulled the blanket over her sister, making sure she was comfortable curled up in his embrace.

Realising his focus was solely on her sister she let out a small chuckle. "No I mean thank you for the apology." It was then that Jude's attention shifted towards Y/N once again. Her fingers toyed with the blanket as she continued. "I didn't realise I needed it that much." Reserving so much anger and hostility towards Jude for such a long time when those feelings had nowhere to go or to be truly expressed left Y/N drained. Now that they were in the process of moving on (?), for once in her life when it came to Jude, she felt heard and justified in her feelings and thoughts.

"I owed it to you," Jude admitted with ease, his eyes pouring into hers. They were vulnerable and honest. "I owe a lot to you, starting with that apology."

"And I'm sorry too—"

Jude shook his head quickly. "Don't. You don't have to." While the fault was shared between the two he didn't feel like she needed to apologise. Everything wrong about them ultimately traced back to him and his wrongdoings.

Y/N nodded in silent agreement. She wasn't trying to get them back to their previous ways. "Well then," she inhaled softly, "I know you're going back to Madrid tomorrow but I would like to try something, you know, for us? Let's try to give ourselves a real start. The next time you're back, hit me up and we'll see where things go." Y/N curled up more in the blanket, bearing a smile that was nervous yet excited while her voice became smaller and timid. "If that's okay with you."

For some time Y/N and Jude hadn't known rest, between themselves and individually. They were nothing but mismatched feelings—some of that anger and hostility and occasional misplaced humour—and that left them with all but a chance of ever developing something that was intended for them. There had never been anything good about them and for the longest time, it made them inwardly reject what they could have been.

But now forgiving one another, leaving previous feelings behind them, now wholly understanding where their wrongs lay all these years– they wanted to find all that was hidden in between the lines. After all, when you returned to their origins all unfiltered and untouched by their recent problems, the potential for them was there. Y/N always wanted to be friends with Jude and Jude always wanted to be friends with Y/N, a friendship that had been hidden for the longest time yet forever destined to come to fruition.

And for that Jude and Y/N would only choose to look onward, let their past become their prologue. It was objective and set in stone, but they would shape their time after today to be theirs alone.

"Well," Jude tilted his head back, almost like he was in thought. But from the unwavering happiness he was experiencing, far too evident with the animation in his voice, it was clear that he already had his mind made up. "Of course. I would like that a lot."

part 2

[pastafossa]

"Waking Nightmare" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)🌧️

Time for the next prompt for my Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! This is for day 7. Took an extra day to work on it cause this is a very angsty one, since our prompt was 'Nightmare' and I went with the classic, 'he accidently swings at you while asleep' trope (many thanks to @sunflowersandsapphires and @shouldbestudying41 for helping me with our chats on this one!). You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me. Also, if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 5.2k

Warnings for this chapter: BIG angst warning on this one, along with a warning for being hit (not intentional), nightmares, guilt, blood, Matt's convinced he committed DV so that is discussed.

It began, like so many disasters did, with a series of small fractures. 

What started as a horrible week turned out to be the harbinger of a truly terrible month for Matt. Despite near-constant, frantic late nights of casework at Nelson and Murdock, the firm lost two important cases in short order. Both cases had been a long shot when it came to success, but that had done little to soften the blow to Foggy, Karen, and Matt—especially Matt, who’d made promises to client families that he’d been unable to keep.

Matt’s work as Daredevil hadn’t gone much better. A new gang had moved into the Kitchen and set up shop, staking out a territory drenched in blood, ash, and terror. Matt had thrown himself into that fight with the same determination that he always did, and while he’d made serious progress breaking down their operation, there had still been losses. As far as he was concerned, the lives lost in the past month—the three targeted victims in the burning apartment complex he’d been unable to reach in time, and the two store clerks shot and killed in their shops before he could make it to them—were caused by his own personal failings. Despite your best attempts to convince him otherwise, the perceived blood on his hands had only driven him to devote himself even more ferociously to his work at night and during the day.

That devotion snowballed rapidly into a lack of sleep, often the first casualty in Matt’s life when things got stressful or busy. The exhaustion only sent him spiraling further into bouts of anger and a retreat behind his emotional walls. He snapped at you whenever you tried to talk to him about it, shying away from the kind touches he felt he didn’t deserve. While a quiet apology almost always came later in the night, soft and full of regret, it didn’t change the fact that you could see him beginning to splinter and crumble beneath the pressure he’d placed on himself, your Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders. You’d gone through this with him before, the periods in which it all seemed to go wrong and he refused to strap on the lifevests you stubbornly threw to him over and over again. As best you could tell, when these storms came there was no other option but to simply plant your roots deep and ride it out with him, ensure he knew he wasn’t alone. And when he finally fell to pieces, giving beneath the weight, you’d make sure he had a loving hand to help him glue his bloody, broken pieces back together. 

You’d thought that fracturing would come from something on the streets. Another death, maybe, or sheer exhaustion. 

You’d never expected it to happen here.

Not at home. 

“You’re going out?” You watched him dig through his father’s trunk for his suit, his back to you. He’d only just returned from another late night at the office. The only reason you were seeing him at all was because you’d woken up thirsty, heading out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The distance between you both abruptly felt so much farther than a meager ten feet, so much harder to cross. Still, you tried. “It’s almost two. Some rest might—” “Don’t,” he said tightly, yanking his mask out and tossing it back onto the couch. He pulled out the rest of his suit next along with his billy clubs. His movements were unnaturally stiff, almost robotic. “I need to…” He sucked in an uneven breath, reaching up to run an exhausted hand through his dark hair.  After a moment, he dropped his hand, going back to what he’d been doing. If anything, your implication had only made him more determined, his voice now resolute and closed off. “Our appeals aren’t going well. The city’s quiet for the first time in a month, but that might not last. I need to go out. Just for an hour or two. Go back to bed.”

You gnawed on your lower lip in thought as he stalked over to the couch. Without his shirt, it was so much easier to see the lines of stress and tension cutting their way through him like winding roads, his muscles drawn up tight and hard. The bruising along the canvas of his back and ribs stood out with every neon flash of the billboard beyond the windows, adding a layer of blood red to the spiraling waves of deep blue and sullen indigo painted on his skin. That he’d been hurt even with the protection of the suit told you just how bad it had gotten out there. He needed rest, desperately. You both knew it. But you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to keep him here, forcing him to listen to the sounds of the city without being able to do anything about it. It was a promise you’d made to yourself, once, and you intended to keep it.

“Ok, D.” You kept your tone gentle. He’d hear you even across the room. “Ok. Come back safe.”

Some of his tension eased at your agreement, and he slowed where he’d been opening up his suit, preparing to step into it. Had he really thought you’d fight him? 

“I…” He shook his head after a moment. He turned until you could see him in profile, that same red light now highlighting the dark, bruised shadows beneath his eyes. But for just a moment, there was the barest softening in his expression, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes. You knew this look, this hand stretched out through the bars of the darkened prison cell he’d found himself trapped within. “I love you,” he said softly. “So much. I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m sorry.” 

“I know. Don’t worry about me for now. We’ll work it out. Just be careful tonight.” You tilted your head as he took a few tentative steps towards you. You took your own small step, cautious like you were approaching a stray who might run if you moved too quickly. He lifted his hand once you were within reach, the back of his fingers stroking lightly, tenderly against your cheek. You turned and brushed your lips fondly against his fingers, your eyes fluttering shut as you soaked in the warmth of his skin. It was the most intentional touch you’d gotten from him in a week, outside those moments in his sleep when he held you close, and god, were you grateful for it, something in you easing at the return of his affection. It meant he was coming out of this, swimming back up to the light and out of the void he’d been lost in. Sometimes you wondered if him denying himself your touch wasn’t just another way he punished himself when his darker thoughts seized hold of him. “I love you, too.”

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.” He tipped your chin up so he could place a tired kiss on your forehead before he let you go and returned to his suit. His motions, at least, seemed more settled now. “I’ll be back in an hour if it’s quiet, I promise. I’ll find a way to make it up to you this weekend.”

You left him there in the living area, more content than you’d felt in weeks. Sure, the past month had been shit for you both, but you were coming out of it now just like always. You fell asleep comfortably with that knowledge, cradling it inside you against your heart as you drifted off. 

You weren’t sure what it was that woke you later. Not at first, anyway. The bedroom was dark and quiet, save for the usual sounds of the city at night that leaked in through the closed windows. Matt’s arms weren’t around you, but it was possible he hadn’t gotten back yet. Without any other signs of danger, you gave a soft huff of irritation. Figures. Waking up over nothing. You shifted your head around on the pillow until you found a nice cold spot, closed your eyes, and began to drift back off. 

Then you heard it again behind you.  

Your brow furrowed, eyes blinking back open.

Right, now you knew it wasn’t just a dream. 

The sound you’d heard wasn’t quite a moan. It wasn’t a word, either. Hell, you didn’t know what to call it, exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a happy noise, that much you knew. This sounded… almost pained, hitched and edged with something like panic. You blearily rolled over to get a better look, still half-asleep.

Apparently Matt had gotten back while you were asleep, the shadowy outline of him curled up on the opposite side of the bed. He was also facing away from you, which was… odd. Most nights, he slept with you in his arms—or him in yours on particularly bad nights. That he’d either consciously or unconsciously placed this much distance between you would have stirred the smoldering embers of worry if you’d been more awake. It wasn’t right that he was over ther, curled in on himself, small and isolated, a lonely island in the sea of silk sheets. As you watched, he twitched restlessly, before making that same small, pained noise you’d heard before. Or was it scared? 

Nightmare, you thought sleepily. That explained the distance. He’d probably just rolled away in his sleep. You yawned, untangling yourself enough from your cocoon of blankets that you start crawling over towards him. Clearly this was one of those nights when he was the one that needed to be held. You weren’t entirely sure why your presence helped to soothe his nightmares, but for whatever reason, your arms around him and your breathing against his back, your heartbeat pressed against his back, was often all he needed. Even if he woke up when you got over to him, he’d have an easier time falling back asleep with you holding him. He always did. Especially after such a terrible month. 

You yawned again when you finally settled down behind him, throwing one arm over his waist and spooning affectionately up against his back. He stirred slightly at that, his body going tense and hard, his chest resonating with a soft growl. But he quickly quieted, soothed at the sound of your voice.

“It’s ok, Matt,” you said sleepily, breathing slowly, intentionally against the hard line of his back. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Just a bad dream.” You tucked your legs up behind his, nuzzling over onto his pillow, hunting for him even as your eyes fell shut again. You’d kick yourself later, for what you did next. 

Without thinking, you leaned in… and brushed a firm kiss against the back of his neck. 

Just like that, the peace, the calm was shattered. 

A wild snarl filled the air, followed by a sudden, blinding explosion of pain across your face that lit up the black behind your eyes like a skyline of fireworks. Before you could even cry out, you’d been thrown clear of the bed. You only just avoiding cracking your temple on the corner of Matt’s nightstand. But what your head missed, the rest of your body didn’t. As you slid across the nightstand and came crashing to the ground, you brought down every last object on the nightstand with you, glass and metal shattering somewhere far away from where you were, the whole of the world gone thick and quiet. 

Things got fuzzy then, a sickening carnival maze of light spinning in your vision every time you blinked. Your dazed thoughts were thick, slow to come together. But, still, you tried, because something was very, very wrong. 

Matt. 

Yes. You needed to find Matt. He was probably out on the streets still. It was the only way someone could have broken in just to hit you like an asshole. You weren’t sure where you were crawling too exactly, but away from the threat felt like a good start. As you moved, something hot and wet began to pour down your face in steady streams, irritating and coppery whenever it made it into your mouth. Fortunately, that was a distant problem. You could worry about whatever was on your face later. Your only concern at the moment was holding your attacker off until Matt could get here and kick some fucking ass. 

A pair of feet slammed against the floor, someone calling out, panicked and frantic. The sound was far too garbled for you to understand it immediately, but what it did tell you was that your attacker was still close by. There wasn’t anything around you that you could easily use to defend yourself, or at least, there wasn’t until your hand bumped into something long and metallic. You snatched it up, ignoring the sudden appearance of pain in your palm as you did so. You dragged it with you, metal squealing across the floorboards as you scrambled on your hands and knees. In seconds, you’d made it out of the bedroom and into the living area. 

Good. When Matt came through the rooftop door, he’d have less distance to cross to get to you. You’d also be able to see your attacker better in the flash of the billboard lights, though the flashing sea of red light made your eyes water and burn. But you could also feel your vision clearing, which was great. You’d need it. 

A shaking, trembling hand brushed against your shoulder. 

You rose up swiftly on your knees, metal rod clutched tight in both hands. “Get away from me!” you snarled, putting every last ounce of strength you had into your motion as you twisted and swung. 

And Matt—

What?

—snapped his hand up, catching the lamp rod just before it could hit him in the face. 

“...Matt?” you asked shakily, unable to hide your confusion. “It was you?”

“This can’t be happening, no, no no no,” he choked out tearfully, his breath coming panicked and wild. His tone was so ragged you almost didn’t recognize the voice as his. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re bleeding, I-I’m sorry, I’m so—”

The lamp rod fell from your paired grips. Hands shaking, he brought them up tentatively towards your face. He stopped just before he could touch you, hovering them a breath away from your skin. The first of his tears began to trail down his cheeks, his expression twisting in what you alarmingly recognized as grief. You’d seen him cry before, but never like this. “God, I-I didn’t know it was you, I’m sorry, I thought you were…”

He was… apologizing. But that didn’t make sense, no matter how much you tried to force the idea to settle into your dazed mind. It couldn’t have been Matt. You weren’t afraid of Matt. Matt didn’t hurt you. He didn’t hit you. Those were facts, as irrefutable as gravity, as reliable as the rise and the fall of the sun. You didn’t understand, just like you didn’t understand why he wasn’t holding you. He always did when you were hurt. “You… you hit me?”

The low, agonized noise he made was inhuman. It was the sound of a wounded animal, of someone who’d just been carved open. His hands drew back from your face, dropping down towards your hands where they’d settled on your thighs, though he seemed just as hesitant to touch you there. Tears dripped down from his face, joining the droplets of thick, deep red now scattered across the floor. Had you left all fo that there? You really… were bleeding, weren’t you?

“I-I… I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t,” he whispered brokenly, his breath hitching with what was almost a whimper. He grabbed one of the blankets off the chair next to him, the one you loved to curl up under with him. He slid it as gently as he could around one of your hands—oh, you were bleeding there, too, just a little, goddamn cheap lamp—though he avoided allowing his skin to brush against yours. “I was… having a nightmare, and I thought-I thought you were someone else, they had you and I was trying to-to get to you but someone grabbed me and I—God, you have a concussion, your nose is-is bleeding. I have to call Claire, get away from you b-before I… I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—”

Finally, the idea settled into your mind, the world abruptly righting itself. 

The nightmare.

Well, that made sense.

You still weren’t quite thinking right, thoughts thick and fuzzy like wisps of cotton, a massive, throbbing ache in your head and face that only got worse every time the billboard lit up. But you you’d been right. Matt didn’t hit you. He hadn’t hit you, because he hadn’t known it was you. Hell, he’d even apparently been trying to save you, at least in his nightmare. It seemed simple enough to you, an obvious accident. But it didn’t seem quite so simple to Matt. You reached for his cheek. “Matt,” you soothed, your words only a tiny bit slurred as he sniffled and wrapped the blanket tighter around your hand, applying firm pressure to stop the bleeding. “It’s ok, Matt. You didn’t mean it.”

But the second your fingertips brushed against his skin, he threw himself backwards and out of your reach, his dark eyes wild. “Don’t!” he spat.  You faltered just a little, suddenly unsure. But you quickly shook it off, shakily climbing to your feet to follow after him. Your own injuries felt secondary in that moment, because this… this was the wound, the disaster that might do you both in if you didn’t find some way to stop it. Your bloody nose and hand could wait. “You didn’t mean it, Matt. It was an accident.” 

For every step you took forward, he took one back, the two of you performing some twisted, heartbreaking sort of dance across the floor. Eventually you cornered him against the wall, hemming him in. He was almost shaking as you stepped in close. Your hand rose and this time around, you successfully managed to cup his jaw, trying to press your affection, your calm into his skin. “Easy, Devil-Man. I’m ok,” you murmured. You swiped one thumb over the trail of tears sliding down his cheek, a new one appearing each time you’d cleared away the last, an endless stream of them falling from his grief-stricken eyes as they darted sightlessly around you. “This wasn’t your fault. Help me get cleaned up and then we’ll talk about it, ok?” 

He hitched a soft, quiet breath when you tugged his head down, his forehead pressed to yours like he’d done for you so many times before. You breathed with him for a moment, trying to ease him down.  He swallowed hard, his eyes fluttering closed as you stroked your thumb against his cheek, and for a moment, you almost thought you’d managed to fix it. 

A breath. 

His jaw clenched, and your heart sank.

This time when his eyes opened, all traces of warmth in them were gone. Whatever door you’d once pried open was now shut, slammed resoundingly in your face. “No. It’s not ok.” He brushed your hand away, sliding out from between you and the wall without so much as a pause. He reached up to wipe away his tears, the motion sharp and edged with tension. “Where are you going?” “I need to call Claire to come look you over,” he said flatly, heading for the kitchen. “I’ll use my burner. Mine was on the… the nightstand.” The brief crack in his voice, a brittle chip in the armor he’d just tried to throw up around himself, only confirmed what you’d hoped you could avoid.

“Matt,” you said softly. “Don’t lock me out like this.”

He may have been aiming for calm but he couldn’t hide what he was feeling, not entirely anyway. Not when his hands were still trembling as he felt around on the kitchen counter, acting like he hadn’t heard you. “I’ll call Foggy, too. Once they’re here, I’ll go.” 

“What?” You watched in disbelief as he kept hunting along the counter. With every second that passed and he failed to find it, he grew more frustrated, more angry. He quickly turned his back to you, body stiff like he was expecting a sudden blow. “You’re you’re leaving me?” “I hit you,” he spat viciously, another seething wave of emotion bubbling up through the cracks of his voice like acid, bitter and toxic and just as liable to burn. Here it was, here it was: the self-loathing, the disgust, the burning hatred. He drew in a sharp breath, shivering as he did. And on the exhale, he seemed to have regained control. His voice rapidly returned to that same cold, emotionless monotone, though he kept his face out of your view. Whatever expression he had would give him away, you were certain of it. “I almost broke your nose. You have a concussion. You cut yourself trying to get away from me. I’ve put men in the hospital for a lot less. You’re not safe with me—”

“That’s horseshit,” you huffed, starting towards him on wobbly legs. You had to stop and grab one of the chairs just to keep your balance and halt you from pitching over onto the floor. Not that it was a concern; no matter how upset Matt was, he’d catch you. But still, you falling would only make things worse. You forced yourself to breathe through the roiling in your stomach, unsure if it was the concussion that was making you nauseous or simply the knowledge that he was trying to leave you. But you wouldn’t let those fucking voices in his mind—ones that probably sounded like Stick—drive him away from you. Not without a fight. At least your nose seemed to have stopped bleeding. That was a good sign. “It was an accident. We both know it. This just—it happens something with nightmares, including non-vigilantes, Matt. I’ve woken up scared and smacked you in the face more than once, and you know it.” 

“You didn’t throw me across a nightstand or give me a concussion.” He barked out a bitter laugh. The hateful sound filled you with dread, as did the heartbreaking resolve beneath it. He’d already made up his mind, convinced himself of what he’d done. “I always knew. That’s what they all said. That I was cursed. That I had the Devil inside me. That all I wanted was to hit someone. This is who I am. I wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down, I knew. And now I hurt you. I can’t let that happen again, even if it means I have to leave to keep you safe.” 

“Matt,” you said desperately, managing to make it to the couch, bracing yourself against the arm of it. If you could just get to him, you could fix this. You knew that. “That’s not true. Let’s just talk about this.”

Matt ignored you again, snatching up his keys and starting towards the hall. “I can’t find my burner,” he said. That tone, flat and empty of all feeling, was so much worse than anger. You’d take anger any day—you’d take grief, or hurt. Emotion meant you had a way in, that he’d opened himself to you, baring all the parts of him left vulnerable and raw. This tone, though…You couldn’t help but feel like you were banging your bloodied fists against a door abruptly chained shut. “Keep pressure on your hand. I’m going next door to ask for their phone so I can call Claire. I’ll only be gone for a minute, then I’ll be back. I’ll find somewhere else to stay once she’s here to take care of you.”

No. 

No, he couldn’t leave you over an accident. Your heart rate shot up, rattling against the lump in your throat. You almost felt like you couldn’t breathe, panic crushing your lungs in their grip, something that made him him stiffen. And you-you couldn’t let him leave, not like this, not when he might not come back. There had to be something, some way to reach him and keep him from destroying, burning down the best thing in both of your lives. And there was only one method that might work in a moment like this.  

Holding up a mirror.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. 

And Matt… froze in the hall, a mere three steps from the front door. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, more firmly now. You didn’t bother to hide the waver in your voice. You drew in a slow breath, exhaling just as slowly. It wasn’t blood running down your face, now, and he’d know it. “I’m sorry for scaring you. For touching your neck in your sleep. I know how vulnerable it is, and how you feel about it being touched by anyone other than me. I didn’t think about what touching that might feel like during a nightmare.” 

“Stop apologizing,” he growled, his shoulders drawing up tight. “They’re not the same thing, and you know it.”

But despite his objections, he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t left yet. Hell, maybe he’d found he couldn’t. Not when you were injured. You’d take it if it meant you had a chance.

“Aren’t they the same?” You reached up with your good hand, sniffling a little as you wiped some of the blood off your face. “According to you, they are. It doesn’t matter what I meant to do, right? Just that I did something that led to me hurting you. And this is hurting you. I can tell.” You choked out a wobbly laugh when he flinched. You used that break in his armor to edge closer, praying you didn’t stumble and fall, losing the ground you’d just gained. “Do you remember when I slipped and dropped that bowl last month and it shattered and cut your feet?” 

“That’s not—”

“I had to pick shards of porcelain out of your poor bare feet. I felt horrible.” Another step. Then another. “Remember when I smacked you in the face during my nightmare last January? Split your lip and everything.” You caught one hand against the shelving unit by the hall, taking a split second to breathe, more tired than you wanted to admit. “You told me those weren’t my fault. You even fucking laughed about your lip. But if this accident is your fault, then all those times are my fault, and so is this one, if you think about it. So I’m sorry, Matt.”  

“I hit you,” came his voice, trembling and uneven. You had a feeling those three small words were your target, spiraling on loop in his mind, their sharp edges tearing into him over and over again. His head slowly dropped, his body curling in on itself as you stopped a few feet away. He shuddered then, and without being able to see his face, you couldn’t tell if it was shame or just… hurt. “Don’t apologize when I hit you. I threw you across the room. I-I hurt you.” 

“Oh, Matt,” you whispered. You took another step, at last coming within touching distance where you might be able to reach him. “It was an accident, sweetheart. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t know it was me. But… but if you want to talk about hurting me, let’s talk about this here.” He stilled when he felt the first gentle touch of your hand against his back. Warm, unafraid, tender. 

“If you’re worried about hurting me, this is how you’d do it,” you said softly, trailing your fingers down the line of his spine with all the love you had in you. “By leaving, Matt. By leaving me here without you when I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world. Don’t do that to me. Please.” This time the sound he made was a broken sob, one hand rising up to fist in his hair. He sank slowly to the ground. You sank with him, winding your arms tight around him as he finally broke, shattering beneath the weight of his guilt. When he didn’t reject your touch, you quickly shifted around him, climbing into his lap. His arms found their way home around your waist, clinging to you tight as you rocked him in your arms, his face buried against your neck, tears flowing hot to join the blood still clinging to your skin. “I’m sorry.” His voice was thick with sorrow, each breath one he had to fight for.  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry—” “Listen to me. This was not your fault. I promise, baby,” you whispered, lifting his head to press your forehead to his like you had before. His eyes were shut, but they fluttered open just for you, as he finally, finally let you back in. You could almost see the torment swirling in them, the guilt, but that was alright. If you could see those shadows, you could fight them. “You were asleep, Matt. You were dreaming. You can’t control what your brain does then. If it thinks there’s a threat, it’s going to react without your input. Do you know how I can be so sure you won’t hurt me? How this all just proved I’m safe with you?” His blank gaze shifted around you, one shaking hand coming up to trace your smile in open disbelief. 

“Because the second you woke up, you were horrified.” You leaned into him, running the fingers of your good hand through his hair as he let out another shaky, breathless sob. “The second you woke up and realized it was me, it just broke you. You would never choose to hurt me, Matt. You're not a violent person, even if you've been taught to use it out there. A bad man doesn’t react like you did. A good man does. You are a good man, do you hear me? And if you leave?” You found his hand with your good one to lace your fingers together and squeeze, his eyes fluttering closed, as did yours. “I swear to God I’ll go stand in an alley in my pajamas and scream that until you have to come protect me from every mugger in the Kitchen. Which will only prove my point that you’d never let anything or anyone hurt me.”  He choked out a quiet, watery laugh, letting you bring his head back down to your throat. His tearful groan at the affection just made you cling to you tighter. “I love you,” he hitched out. “I love you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I’m so sorry. God forgive me, I’m so, so sorry.” 

“I love you, too, Matt,” you whispered, burying your face in his hair. “It’s not your fault. Don’t let your nightmare knock us out this easily. Get back up. Stay, and fight for me, for us. Can you do that for me?”

You felt his eyes fall closed, and for the first time since he’d woken up, you heard a different kind of resolve in his voice: one that was far more familiar, far more welcome, solid and warm and steadfast, a strength you’d happily build your life upon, as he let your love seep in through the cracks to at last chase away some of the dark.

His breath eased out against your skin, soft and familiar. “I… ok. I can do that.”

“Good.”

[scenteddelusion5]

Hi, can I request a platonic Rosie(or several overlords if that’s okay) with a Female reader who’s a teenager overlord who accidentally became an overlord?

The Overlord of Disasters

Fem teenage reader x platonic Rosie (and other overlords)

This got way too long so I tried to shorten it, hope you still enjoy it.

Word count: 2886

Note: I actually am working on a young adult/teenager oc that has the powers to become an overlord, so the fact that this is my first request is very funny. When I've finished her design, I'll write about her. But for now, here is the story of Y/n the overlord of disasters.

Y\n had to admit that she wasn't the nicest person but she never expected to end up in hell. HELL, like yess she was a bit of a troubled teen... she was a petty thief, yess, but some of her peers were much worse. Besides, she was only fifteen when she died. She never had the chance to do better. That should've given her at least some leeway? Right?? RIGHT???

But no, she ended up in hell.

When Y/n first arrived, she roamed the dangerous streets looking for shelter. Her face and slim goat-like stature was hidden by a torn cloak. She tried to be inconspicuous, discreet, low-key but she overlooked one thing... Our Y/n was ridiculously clumsy. So when she tripped over her own foot, her arm bumped into the light pole causing it to fall over onto a postal van. That in turn caused all the letters to fly out on the street. Some of the papers got carried up by the wind, eventually getting stuck onto the cord of a power pylon. Then there was fire, which spread onto a building...

Everyone's eyes were focused on her, including a set of hollow eye socket. It didn't take long for the demons that lived in the now burning building to storm her.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!!!" One incredibly tall shark demon took the lead. "I'm going to rip fucking longs out of your chest and feed it to those CANIBAL FREAKS!!!"

At first Rosie didn't want to intervene. It really wasn't her style to get involved into random street fights, even though she found Y/n's disastrous display hilarious. But now that the loan shark insulted her people, she felt it was her duty to step in.

"Gentlemen, whatever might be the problem?" Rosie stepped in between you and the threatening hoard and flashed her sharp teeth to them. "You aren't bullying this poor newcomer, right?"

"Uhm, n-no miss, uhm Rosie. We're sorry." Before Rosie could open her mouth again, they ran back into the still burning building.

The overlord then turned to you. "Now darling, I take it you don't have a place to stay?"

Y/n shook her head.

"Then you can stay with me. I'm quite the powerful demon."

From that day on Y/n stayed with Rosie. During the years of living together, the two grew quite close. The overlord took over a motherly role for the teen. Everyone in cannibal town loved the unofficially adopted daughter of Rosie, they were even willing to put up with Y/n's clumsy nature.

Rosie truly loved her and when Y/n accidentally called her mom while helping out in the store, she was the happiest demoness in all of hell.

From that day on Rosie introduced Y/n as her daughter to anyone and everyone, even some of her fellow overlords.

Alastor and Y/n had met many times and often had tea together. The man often joked about how it's never boring with her. She had also met Zestial and Camilla a few times, but she wasn't as close with them as Alastor and Rosie.

One day Y/n had to make a trip to the Doomsday district. Rosie had, reluctingly, sent you to deliver a dress to a customer. She was all alone, her hand rested on the angelic steel knife on her belt. Rosie had given it to her so she could protect herself, just in case. Most people knew you were close to several overlords but you could never be more careful, especially Y/n.

Y/n was repeating her 'safety protocol' in her head.

Stay away from the walls

stay away from the poles

stay away from the demons

Stay away from the fire

Look where you step

Hold th-

She walked into something and fall back on her but. Looking up was a demon she recognized... An overlord, he was in charge of the Doomsday district.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!!!" This situation seemed awfully familiar.

Y/n clenched her shirt. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to."

"I DON'T CARE!!!"

The demon was menacingly towering over her. She crawled back and pulled herself up. Seeing as this wasn't going to be resolved with a pleasant conversation over tea, Y/n pulled out her knife. Her arms were shaking and the knife felt heavy in her hands.

"What do you think that toothpick is going to do?" He stepped forward and you stepped back. On and on until she hit the wall... OH no... she hit the wall...

Her elbow hit the random waterpipe on the side of the building and broke it. Water spewed out right into the overlord's face. The demon fell back. The water had landed on the street, causing a car to slip and running over the overlord and crashing into the wall. This in turn caused the satellite aerial to fall down and slightly bumped your back. The knife shot out of your hand right into overlord. The aerial send out a weird frequency.

"Spare me... Please..." The overlord gasped out.

Y/n was still shaken up. "What?... Uhm I don't plan on killing you." her voice sounded unsure, which the overlord took way different than you meant.

"Please!" He wailed. "I'm begging you... You can have all my souls, just please."

"I don't uhm..."

"PLEASE!!! TAKE THEM!!!"

"... Sure...??" She said very confused. "I'll take them." The two shook hands and immediately, Y/n could feel the pure power flowing through her veins. "Alright... Bye now?" As she stepped away a shadow covered the overlord. Before Y/n could look up a piano hit the demon, pushing the knife deeper in effectively killing him.

What the fuck just happened?

Everything was quiet. All eyes were on her, again... As always, only this time, she doubted she would be saved this time. She was prepared to be killed again... Only nobody did anything, no demons threatening to kill her, no stray bullets that got way to close to her head, not even another butterfly effect disaster... The demons around just stared.

One small demon with black eyes walked up to you... "What are you going to do to us?"

"What...?"

"What are you going to do to us?" He repeated. "You are the new overlord of the Doomsday district, you own our souls."

"I... I don't." She awkwardly grabbed at her sleeves. "I'm not an overlord."

"Yes, you are. You defeated the previous overlord of doom, took over his souls and territory, you became an overlord." Y/n stayed silent at this. "How about we talk in private?" He took her into a smaller building nearby, away from all prying eyes. "Let's start over. I'm Piper. You own my soul." The small demon introduced himself.

"Uhm... Y/n, and I'm no overlord. Overlords are like scary, like WHA!" She made grabby gestures with her hands. "And BOE! I'm anything but that."

Piper looked at her like she had just grown another head. "How about this? I'll keep your territory in control while you think this over a bit? And in turn, you'll keep me in high up in the social latter here."

Her mouth was dry. "... Deal..?" She was so confused.

From that day on Piper took care of the Doomsday district for her. Y/n never went to Rosie about this. She always wanted to keep her daughter safe and would be so mad to find out she got into trouble again... At least that's what Y/n convinced herself.

Even though Piper took care of most of the problems in the Doomsday district, word got around of the new overlord of disasters; a terrifying force of nature that shouldn't be reckoned with. So of course there were demons that wanted to challenge her. Every other day y/n needed to sneak out of Cannibal town to 'fight' these challengers. See 'fight' as in accidentally defeating them.

Y/n was filing her bag with a cloak and a mask she picked up to hide her identity when a knock came from her door.

"Y/n darling! It's me and Alastor." Rosie opened the door and summoned a table. "Please sit down, we want to talk to you."

She sat down in the Victorian style chair, but not before stumbling a bit.

"Little lamb, your mother is worried about you." Alastor broke the silence.

"Deary, you've been sneaking out a lot and staying away for longer and longer and when you come home you're exhausted-" Rosie took a deep breath "- what I'm trying to say is that you can talk to me if something's wrong... You know that right?" Her cheeks were droopy, a frown plastered on her porcelain face, it made Y/n's stomach turn.

"I'm fine, mom. There is no need to worry about me." She lied.

Alastor's eyebrows down, almost like he wanted to frown, but he still had that giant smile on his face. "Are you sure? If somebody is bothering you, we don't mind serving them for tonight's dinner. Hahaha." He joked, underneath, however, he was nervous. The Radio demon had grown quite fond of her and, knowing how clumsy she could be, he couldn't help but worry.

"No, one is bothering me... Thank you for offering though." At this point, Y/n had grown used to the cannibalistic tendencies of the people around her and so shrugged Alastor's joke off.

Rosie had a bad feeling about this. "Can you at least tell us where you've been sneaking of to?"

Shit

Y/n didn't have excuse for this. "J-just some friends... I.. I didn't want them to be scared off, so I didn't tell them about you. I'm sorry mom." Tears filled her eyes, she didn't want to lie to her. Rosie had done so much for her... She was planning on giving this whole being an overlord up anyway, there was no reason for Y/n to tell the truth now. It'll be like it never happened and then she can go back to her normal life with her mom.

Rosie stared into her cup. "Alright deary, but please make sure to be careful. Genuine friends are rare in hell."

"Thanks mom." Y/n stood up again and left the imperium, through the front door this time.

Alastor squinted his eyes, following your silhouette. Something was wrong, you were lying. He could feel it... But this was Rosie's responsibility, so he should leave it up to her. "She is lying."

"I know but if she isn't ready to talk about it, then I'll wait."

"On a different note, did you hear that the Doomsday district has a new overlord." Alastor took a sip from his 'Oh, Deer' mug. "They've been defeating demon after demon. I've been meaning to meet them for my radio show, would you like to come with me?"

Y/n was walking down the street to the Doomsday district. I should've just told Rosie the truth. She thought. But she had panicked and lied, only making it harder for herself.

Stepping into the same, small building where Piper first dragged her off too, Y/n put on her overlord disguise.

"You didn't break anything, right?" Piper asked, dressed in a brand-new suit. "I don't want to fix the sewerage again."

"It went fine!" She put up her thumb, before knocking over a chair that landed on a vase, breaking it in two thousant pieces. "Sorry."

Y/n and Piper walked around the district for a while, more so to let the demons know that the overlord of disaster was still around and that they were close with Piper. She caused chain reactions all around her, letting people know she got her title for a reason... Not her fault the denizens of hell took it the wrong way.

The two were rounding the corner when a familiar set came into view... What were Rosie and Alastor doing here? Y/n's panic only grew once she realised Alastar was trying to get her attention. Did they recognize her? What was happening?

As the two overlords came closer and closer, Y/n ducked into an alleyway and seemingly disappeared~

The dumpster wasn't Y/n's first choice of hiding place but it was the only one she had.

Piper was left alone on the burning streets with two dangerous overlords heading straight for him.

"Where did she go?" The woman, who Piper recognized to be the cannibal overlord, asked. "I swore she was just here."

"And what relation do you have with this new overlord, my incredibly short fellow." The second man Piper knew all too well. The terrifying Radio demon. "I was hoping to speak to her."

"Ah, I- I'm incredibly sorry... B-but the disaster overlord doesn't like dealing with overlord stuff, so she makes me represent." Piper sputtered.

"I see, but you see I want to speak to the REAL overlord. Not some pathetic representative." Dials appeared in Alastor's eyes and strange symbols started floating around. "GOT THAT."

"YES!"

"Lovely, then you can set up an audience for me. How does Friday sound?"

"Perfect, Friday at 5 p.m."

"Great, I can't wait to meet her." The two overlords went on their merry way again through the streets of Doomsday district.

Friday came around and nothing. Alastor had waited for twenty minutes, yet there was no sight of the disaster demon or her little pet. This was rich, never before was the overlord stood up like this. Who would dare to waste his time?! Alastor's stature as well as his antlers grew. That day there was a very horrifying broadcast and Y/n was at home with Rosie. She had to admit she almost peed her pants when Alastor openly threatened her on the radio broadcast...

There was no way she could come clean now. From that day on, you didn't show your overlord self once. Always letting Piper deal with everything.

That was until he came running to you, a letter in hand. It was an invitation to an overlord meeting, one she wouldn't be allowed to send Piper to. At first she didn't want to go, but Piper thought that would be a surefire way to piss off even more overlords. She had to go.

That's how she ended up, dressed in her cloak and mask, in front of an office building in Carmilla's circle of the pentagram. Stepping into the building the place was quiet, no one was around... Was this a trap? Y/n continued on the conference room, although more cautious. Room 666.

Everyone was already there. Were you supposed to come early?

"Disaster demon, glad you could join us." Carmilla spoke first. "We weren't sure you would show up anymore."

Y/n kind of shrugged trying her best to hide her voice.

"How rude, this new generation of overlords ought to know their place. Don't you think so Zestial?" Alastor commented half-jokingly.

"Yes, I must agree." The oldest overlord answered.

You wobbly sat down in your seat, but in doing so breaking the seat. A metal leg shot out to Vox, who protected himself. It ricocheted to the chandelier, which luckily kept hanging. Unluckily though, one of the more heavy ornaments fell down onto the table. It broke in two.

With each sound and broken item, Y/n hugged herself more and more until she resembled more of an hedgehog than a goat. She felt incredibly awkward, tears came out of her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I'M SORRY!!!! YOU ALMOST BROKE MY SCREEN AND DESTROYED THE CONFERENCE ROOM AND ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY IS SORRY?!!!" Vox screamed, he was about to launch over the broken table but Alastor stopped him.

"Not a step closer my pal." Alastar's horns grew, showing that he was serious in protecting the newest overlord.

"There is only one demon in the entire universe who could create such a mess." Rosie spoke to herself. "Y/n is that you?" Rosie almost couldn't keep herself from smirking when she removed her mask.

"Yes... I-"

"Alright, everyone out this meeting is over!" Carmilla said. The demons left but only with some push. "Not you three."

They were all looking at you, Carmilla, Zestial, Alastor and Rosie, waiting for an explanation.

"Be- Before you get mad at me, this was an accident."

"I'm not mad about my conference room, now explain." Carmilla's eyes stayed focused on her, like lion waiting for its prey.

"I don't just mean the conference room, this was an accident." Y/n points to herself. "I didn't mean to become an overlord. It just kind of happened and I thought you would be mad at me and then I dug myself into a deeper hole, and now I'm here dressed like this embarrasing myself in front of everyone." The tears that had been slowly building up, started flowing.

"Oh deary." Rosie stood up and gave you a big hug. "I could never be mad at you. I just wish you would've told me. We can work this out together, besides this means you have the power to protect yourself. You don't know how worried I was if you would ever find yourself in a sticky situation alone."

"Thanks mom." Y/n hugged her back.

"If I may interrupted your lovely bonding time, but how exactly did you 'accidentally' defeat the previous overlord?" Alastor asked.

"Oh, I didn't defeat him." She explained. "He got runover by a car, then he decided to give me all his souls and a piano dropped on him."

"Excuse me?"

Masterlist/request guidlines

[shotmrmiller]

Needs must

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

WC: 2.1K

TW: prostitution, explicit fingering, and smut-ish.

ive got 4 other ideas for this goddamn escort au and one of em is MY BOY JOHNNY. oof i cant wait. im mad it took me this long to do this. I wrote this listening to rich sex by nicki minaj.

You had needs. No matter how magical, a toy can only do so much for you. You wanted the praise of another human being—the warm touch of their hands around your waist, your neck. God, you needed to get laid. But after the disaster that was your last relationship, how nasty it ended, you couldn’t even ring your ex-girlfriend up for a booty call. 

Sucking your teeth, you look at your phone. Noon. Well, maybe one of your friends you’re about to meet up with for a weekly Saturday brunch knew someone who would be interested in a no-strings-attached situationship.

—

Flipping the card in your hands,  you chewed on your bottom lip in deliberation and looked down at the business card— the color of bone with raised black lettering. Ghost, it read, with his number on the back. How you ended up with this in your hand made you almost regret having reprobates for friends. An escort. That’s what they had shamelessly suggested. You had almost choked on your eggs benedict when one of them pulled out a contact card from their wallet and placed it by your mimosa. I mean, really. Preparing to argue about their lack of sense, they brought up a great point. It was either this, someone who was there for what you needed whenever you needed it, or your toys which were in a pathetic state from constant use. Your ex called it quits because you simply couldn't find the time to maintain a proper relationship— your demanding job took up most of it. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this.

Ghost. What a name. But you suppose it didn’t matter what his name was, only that he could do his job, and with the way your friend gushed over him— he’d leave you walking side to side. You needed this. You worked too hard for too many hours to not spend your money on some self-care. 

Fuck it. Maybe he will be just a one-time thing, you thought, and sent his number a text. 

—

Closing the door of your car, you briskly walk towards the small cafe Ghost had sent the address to; A cute little quaint coffee shop. Coming to a stop, you straighten your office skirt and run a hand through your hair before opening the door. Breathing in the coffee aroma, you look around for who you’re looking for, spotting him sitting in the back. The click of your heels echoes inside the cafe, catching the attention of your awaiting companion. He looks up and rises to stand, and it takes you aback. It was like witnessing a grizzly standing on its hind legs. Jesus.

He was tall, so tall, and broad. Wearing a black beanie and covering the lower half of his face with a mask, he extends his arm out to shake your hand, and you internally scream at how shapely his arm alone looks over his long-sleeved shirt. 

“I’m Ghost. It’s a pleasure, love.” 

Choking back a moan at his accent, you put your hand in his and say, “No, I’m sure it’ll be all mine.” You can see his dark eyes crinkle at your quip. 

“If we get through this smoothly, the next time we meet I’ll make sure of it.” 

As you let out a playful laugh, Ghost reaches for the back of your chair, pulling it out with a chivalrous gesture. “And a gentleman? You definitely know how to sell yourself.” 

“No, love. This is just a common courtesy. I don’t need t’tell you that I’m good,” and in one smooth motion, he extracts a sleek, forest green matte folder from the leather business bag lying at his feet.

“I need this filled out, just the usual— hard and soft limits. Safewords, nicknames, allergies, and so on.” You pick up the folder and open it, skimming over the contents of the front page. 

“This really is your job.” You flick your eyes from the folder to him and he’s already looking at you, watchful and steady. 

“O’ course it is. I take my clients, and future clients, seriously. I enjoy wha’ I do but it will never be at the cost of another. I will not make you uncomfortable in any way, nor risk your health. I aim to please you, not the other way around. And I cannot do tha’ if I don’t know tha’ you’re allergic to latex or completely against something I might do.” 

He gives a slight cough, and you divert your attention from the paper and meet his gaze. “What’s a pretty thing like you seeking out someone who offers these types of services?” and a lighthearted chuckle escapes you.

“The same reason the one who gave me your card did— just looking for a good time, no commitment.” 

He raises his eyebrows at that but makes no further comment. Smart man. Glancing at your wrist, you check the time. “Right,” and lean forward to get up when Ghost shoots up from his chair to pull out yours. “I’ll have your folder ready for you by the weekend,” and turn your head to face him.

“Is that when you’ll want this, then?” and you give a casual shrug. 

“If you happen to be available.” He reaches out and gently grabs your hand to pull you in for a tight embrace. Softly, he whispers in your ear, “I’ll be seeing you then, love.”

You leave with a silly little grin on your face.

—

The weekend comes and you’re a puddle of nerves. You can’t remember the last time someone made you this anxious. The knock on your door startles you out of your inner ramblings. It’s time. Taking in a deep, calming breath, you open it. 

Ghost calmly walks in, and starts taking off his mask, and then leather jacket.

“I’ve one absolute limit I forgot to mention,” he says in a firm tone. “I do not kiss. It is not a negotiation.” 

Well, you couldn’t give a damn if he didn’t. Nonchalantly, you shrug and say, “And mine is that we always use a condom.” With a nod and a chuckle, he eagerly grabs the folder from your table and starts flipping through its pages.

“A’right, love. Go get on the bed f’me.” The smirk he gives you is positively wicked. “I saw tha’ you have like to be told wha’ to do.” He jerks his chin towards your room. “And take everything off.” With nervous excitement, you run off, haphazardly tossing your clothes on the floor.

—

Eyes covered with a blindfold, all you hear is your shaky breathing and his footsteps on your plush rug. Your nerves feel exposed, raw. As you lie on the bed, you suddenly feel a firm grip on the flesh of your thighs, causing your skin to break out in goosebumps. The room's cool air contrasts with the warm heat radiating from his touch, pulling a hiss from your lips as he pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

“Atta girl, love. Open your legs f’me, lemme see that pretty pussy.” The lack of eyesight helps you to focus on his touch alone, making you fearless, and your legs drop open without hesitation as you lie on your back.

“Look at tha’. Aren’t you just a dream? Hm?” he puts his hands on your knees, keeping your thighs open, wet cunt exposed. “And you waxed, too. Hope tha’ wasn’t f’me.” You feel a fingertip slide from your hood, down to your clit and hole, spreading your juices around the labia and back up. Your nerves are on fire, your pussy clenching around nothing, forcing juices to drip down to your arsehole.

“A’right, pretty. Touch yourself. Shove your tiny little fingers into your,” he pauses to suck the skin of your inner thigh, “cunt and show me how to make you feel good.” He then moves his mouth closer to where you need it most, and bites. Are you defying me? Did you suddenly become deaf as well, once I blindfolded you?” and you aggressively shake your head. 

“No! No, sir. I hear you, loud and clear.” With a tight squeeze to your thighs, he says, “Then do as I say.” Moaning, you slowly bring your hand down, starting from your chest. Your palms rub against your pebbled nipples, down to your soft stomach, until your fingertips meet your swollen nub, then move in soft, tight circles, mewling at the feeling. The groan that reaches your ears is so lewd, you could come from that alone. 

“Tha’s it, baby. You’re doing so well. Look at how wet you are, fuck, show me just how you like it.” And you do. A vulgar noise comes from your hole once you stuff yourself with one finger, slowly stretching, before adding another. It’s something, but not enough, not what you want. Not thick enough, long enough, and that thought makes you whimper in disappointment. 

“Aw, are your fingers not satisfying? I’ll help you, sweet, only because you look so delicious spread out f’me like this. So vulnerable, bare.” His breath fans over your cunt, over your clit, and it sends a jolt up your spine— but he doesn’t move, doesn’t touch. It feels like you’ve been waiting for hours until he finally, finally, pushes a thick finger into you, and curls it, rubbing against the right spot, over and over, and then pushes in a second, threatening to tip you over the peak. The feeling is intense —your walls clench around him firmly in your rising pleasure.

“Oh, g-god, Ghost pleasepleaseplease,” squealing as you fuck yourself on his hand, and when your hypersensitive nerves pick up on the sensation of his scorching mouth on your clit, with a pulsating suction, your muscles tighten and tremble, to the point of pain, until Ghost gives one hard suck, forcibly pushing you off the edge. The wail you let out is ear-splitting— as ecstasy slams into your body, like waves crashing at shore. Your thighs squeeze Ghost’s head irrationally tight, but he doesn’t care, just groaning into your core, lapping up your juices like a dehydrated man who’s found an oasis. Your body stings— prickles from the vicious high you’re riding—chest heaving with sobs from the sheer force of it, fingernails digging into Ghost’s scalp, yanking on his hair. As your soul melts back into your body, you absentmindedly thank all the bloody gods for having friends who really do look out for you. 

Whimpering pathetically, your limbs go limp, loose, heavy. Ghost easily picks your body up and moves you toward the center of the bed, vertically, the blindfold still robbing you of your vision. 

 With a grunt of effort, his hand firmly settles by your ribcage, sinking into the softness of the bed, and then he slips a folded pillow beneath your hipbones, expertly arching your spine into a delicious angle. His hand firmly connects with your rear, not just once but twice, feeling the exquisite sting of it. The room falls into silence, only to be interrupted by the clinking sound of his belt buckle. Your body tenses as you hear the unmistakable sound of plastic being torn open, and then you feel his thick and warm shaft teasing your entrance. A moan escapes your lips as he penetrates you, his movements slow and sensual, until his hipbones press against your backside. Taking his time, he slowly pulls back his length, dragging it against your slick walls, before pushing forward again, covering your body with his own. His right hand is flat on the bed by your right shoulder, while his left curls around your neck, gently forcing your head to tilt back onto him. The tip of his head grinds against the entrance of your womb. 

He moans softly into your ear, before quietly purring, “Let’s see how many more orgasms I can wring out of you, pet.” The tightening of his makeshift necklace around your throat is your first and last warning of what is to come.

—

He pulled four. Four gut-wrenching, shattering orgasms before finding his own release. He left you a drooling, sloppy, sweaty mess on your bed, completely languid and relaxed. Somewhere, you faintly hear your phone ping with a notification. Hissing as you get up, you limp to your living room, and see it on the sofa. Unlocking it, you see that it’s Ghost, sending you his Cash App information. Holding in a chickle, you send him his money and wait for his confirmation. 

It was a real pleasure, doll. Let me know when you need me again.

Cackling to yourself, you place your phone back on the table. 

Bastard. 

He knows you’ll definitely be seeing him again.

[hannyoontify]

seventeen on a road trip

warnings | mentions of food, roadkill?

notes | i've been doing long distance traveling and camping w my family and acquaintances for almost 12 years now so these are js some characters i've seen LMAO

scoups

designated driver

will definitely go 20 over the speed limit almost constantly

but he’s gotten pulled over only once (he’s lucky)

plays katy perry and pitbull to stay awake when he’s driving at night

screams when he sees roadkill

ALSO he insists on finding firewood on his own instead of buying them at the local mart like a normal person

tends the fire like it’s his baby (he may or may not tear up when it’s put out at the end of the night)

he brings an axe. for the firewood.

oh it’s serious

constantly doing head counts when they’re out to make sure no one got snatched up by a tree or eagle or something

hates truck drivers with a burning passion of a thousand suns

definitely farts in the car and pretends it isn’t him

jeonghan

passenger princess™️ 

but he’ll be the drivers right hand man

constantly serving water and snacks and making sure they’re staying awake

doesn’t lift a single finger when you get to your campsite BUT THATS HOW ITS SUPPOSED TO BE

he’ll be shivering in the passenger seat and watching youtube while mingyu hauls the 15 person sized tent out of the trunk

but he’s also keeping an eye on everyone to make sure they’re doing okay

saved dino from a bees nest one too many times

definitely gets his hands on the aux

SNACK FAIRY

he loves packing snacks and passing them out throughout the trip

needs to cuddle someone in the tent

vehemently opposes hiking and prefers to sit in a field and wait for everyone else to come back

joshua

don’t even play with me rn he’s bringing an acoustic guitar

does sing-a-longs in the car and at the fire pit

and he’s good too it’s not cheesy and everyone loves it when he brings out the guitar

one time cheol was desperate to keep the fire going so he almost used shua’s guitar and that was the story of how cheol almost lost his life that day

SMORE MAN. don’t tell me this man doesn’t love smores

he n vernon would def teach everyone how to make smores

sits in the left window seat, second row. end of discussion. that spot is reserved for thought daughters and thought daughters only. FIGHT ME

he’s actually rlly good at pitching the tent

secretly enjoys hiking but he doesn’t want seungkwan to know that

jun

HE BRINGS BOARD GAMES AND CARD GAMES

always has a deck of cards on him at all times

he would def 100% bring cards against humanity and uno (this almost caused them to go home early)

makes friends with the wildlife

like one time everyone else is busy making camp but jun went missing and came back 15 minutes later with an elk at his side

“he said he’s hungry”

“junhui we can’t give ramen to an elk”

SLEEPS WITH HIS EYES OPEN IN THE CAR AND EVERYONE TAKES PICTURES

it keeps everyone entertained and he loves seeing the photos everyone took when he wakes up

waves at strangers they drive by on the road

last time he tried to help pitch the tent, he got lost in the fabric

hoshi

disney princess.

it’s like the moment he sets foot on the camping grounds, all the nearby birds and critters are drawn towards him

they loveee hoshi for some reason

plays ‘i spy’ in the car

“i spy…. something gray!”

“… my socks?”

also plays shinee music on blast and has his own mini concert in the car

there’s a group-wide agreement to never give hoshi more than 3 smores/marshmallows

bc that.. ends in disaster.

he almost started a forest fire the last time he had 5 marshmallows in the middle of the night

likes to play with the fire (we call it 불멍 in korean where you space out while watching the fire)

definitely farts in his sleep in the car

insists on bringing at least two tiger plushies to every road trip

likes to cuddle with someone in the tent

he also likes to play punch buggy (don’t sit next to him)

wonwoo

def 100000% brings a nintendo switch or something for the long car ride

one of the more quiet people on car rides but he always points out something he notices out the window

“hey look that horse is giving birth” “WWWWWWWHERE” (that was hoshi if you couldn’t tell)

plays along with hoshi’s ‘i spy’ games

one time he almost lost his glasses in a river so now he refuses to step foot near any bodies of water 

likes to stick by jeonghan and observe with him

i feel like he’d be good at directions and occasionally drives when seungcheol’s too tired

always has his headphones hanging around his neck

enforces a strict ‘lights out’ rule and tries to get people off their phones when they’re sight seeing

CAMERA MAN #1

he loves taking pics and brings his camera everywhere they go

he dgaf if his phone is dead but if his camera runs out of battery, this man is devastated

woozi

i actually struggled a lot with woozi’s 

cuz i’ve been camping with a lot of diff people but i’ve never been with someone like woozi

but

i think

he’s the quietest one of them all

tbh idt woozi would be the biggest fan of camping

esp where you’re roughing it out in the middle of the woods since he’s a homebody

but i think he would like it in terms of taking a break from the bustling city and enjoying nature

he would sit outside in the early morning and watch the sun rise alone

would deffo get inspo for songs

you can sometimes hear him humming little melodies to himself when they’re hiking

laughs the hardest at dino’s freestyle raps at night tho

sometimes borrows shua’s guitar to play something

i think he would like doing rec activities too tho

like rafting or biking

OR FISHING OOOOOOOOOO

he’s js happy to be there i think

the8

also one of the more quiet members

but he actually likes road trips because he likes to be in nature

he’ll be one of the first people up every morning

you’ll find him meditating, basking in the early morning rays in front of the smoking fire pit from last night

really really likes sight seeing nature

also if he could, he would def bring a travel tea set and make tea for those who want it in the morning

tries to make friends with a feral squirrel but failed tho

he took that personally too

sensitive sleeper so he tends to stay up late at night on car rides to talk w cheol to keep him awake and sometimes drives 

mingyu

all hail kim mingyu because he’s everyone’s life saver

he’s in charge of almost all of their cooked meals

and he makes some damned good camping food

kbbq is a must at camping sites AND HE’S SO GOOD. SOSOSOSO GOOD

but he’s the biggest mfing scaredy cat

clings to jeonghan in his sleep and flinches every time he hears something in the woods

“mingyu go to sleep”

“but what if thats a bear?”

buys bear spray and read up on how to scare bears away

also has to close his eyes when they’re driving on mountain roads bc the cliffs and ravines make him queasy and his knees feel like jelly

cuddles hoshi in his sleep in the car

loves taking pictures of nature and the members

would def go dirt biking or something like that

likes to engage in park rangers’ q&a’s and info sessions

dokyeom

sings almost everywhere

in the car? he’s singing? they’re setting up camp? he’s singing. around the fire pit? he’s singing along with shua’s strumming.

like mingyu, he has to close his eyes when they’re driving on mountain roads bc he gets scared

waves to random babies he sees at popular attractions

he fed an eagle once. he talks about it every other month

CAMERA MAN #2

loves taking pics of nature

esp the sky

sometimes he sticks his head out the window (to the point where it’s illegal) to get a good pic of the sunset

loves loves lovesss stargazing

he can stare at the dark sky for hours, looking and counting each and individual star

seungkwan

designated tour guide™️

makes sure everyone’s sticking together

and kinda forces everyone to go hiking with him

side note: i love seungkwan’s hiking posts

anyway

sings almost everywhere pt. 2

their collective spokesperson 

he’s the one talking to park rangers and campsite managers

likes to engage in deeper conversation with other members once it’s more dark and quiet and a few members already turned in for the night

pls don’t put him on the wheel he’s going to freak out

likes to sit next to vernon and talk to him on longer nature car rides

seungkwan on aux can never go wrong

vernon

has headphones on almost 24/7

even when he doesn’t, he has imaginary ones on

he has like 4 different headphones/earphones as back up in case one dies

the amount of songs he’s downloaded on spotify practically takes up half his phone storage

will randomly start naming all the diff plants’ scientific names

likes to look at mushrooms and plants in his spare time

brings like 3 different, separate snapbacks

vernon would most definitely make a killer smore

like he’s so good at roasting marsmallows

it’s the american in him ig

likes to poke at the fire with a blank expression

if you look at their group photos, he’s always in the same pose and facial expression

freaks out when he sees a bug tho and will aggressively do the harlem shake until it’s gone

dino

in love with everything

he’ll point out something new he sees every 3 seconds

thinks everything is so so cool

i love dino

anyway

would sing in the car deffo 10000%

yk like his drunk freestyle rapping he did in the beginning of nana tour? yea he does that at night in front of the fire pit

if mingyu whips out some kind of camping tool he’d be all “ohhhhhh!!!”

takes so many naps in the car and in the tent

always munching on something

likes to read up on pamphlets and info boards about history or science behind a certain rock formation or historical site

and tell the others what he learned, esp when they ask questions

likes to bring binoculars (idk js a thought)

one time he saw a squirrel sneak into a gift shop and steal a candy bar

but when he tried to tell everyone else

no one believed him

it’s okay i believe you dino

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[yourlocaltreesimp]

if I was the guide I would try to help link more then just help him with puzzles and where to go next. I would try helping with enemies and bosses by distracting them, help with stealth missions by making noise to distract guards, scavenge for things like rupees, bombs, arrows, food ect, for them, watch over link while he slept,help teach them how to play instruments cuz i doubt they would automatically know how to play, help keep them warm at night, let link vent and not bottle up his emotions,ya know cuz the poor boy deserves some help. Maybe guide reader help teach the links how to fight, cuz time, wind, and maybe legend, hyrule and how to sword fight cuz there's no way time and wind would know how to sword fight when their journeys first began, they were just kids, legend and four might have cuz legends uncle knew how to use a sword and fours grandfather is a blacksmith and in the four swords manga his father is captain of the hyrule knights, hyrule I don't honestly know if the fairies taught him how to fight with weapons, twilight was taught by rusl, sky, warriors and calamity were training/were already knights, wild would definitely have to be re taught how to fight again, and sage already remembered/ relearned how. I don't know how old first, korodai and courage were when they first learned,How would the chain react to that if they remembered? Sorry it's so long.😅

Sorry this one’s been sitting so long! This is going to be a bit of a ramble, but it’ll make sense! Took some liberties!!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Player/Guide!reader is the epitome of comfort to the boys. Much of their lives they have been taught through experience to trust no one —not even their own goddess— lest they get a dagger in the back. And at first they are cautious. A person with no ties to hyrule who is so eerily familiar with the heroes and utterly bewitching? They’re half convinced you are a trick, meant to play on their insecurities and trauma.

Time gathers his recollections first. He remembers your calm voice correcting his form and swings, your encouragement to keep improving— not with the intent of killing, but with only his safety at heart. He’d buried his blade within the thick trunk of a tree and heard your old whispers through his ears, and it all made sense. That even as his bones were cracked and reformed and the threads of time unraveled, you were consistent. Even when he wasn’t the same him that you loved before, you were back again. Protecting him, even if he didn’t need it. You were arms for him to return to and someone to hold and love.

Legend remembered almost on accident. He’d bolted up from the solid earth, rings snagging at his hair as his fingers tugged at the root. His chest rose and fell rapidly, like that of a frightened animal. You’d cautiously found your way in front of him, talking him down from the world within. Your hands massaged his palms easing the tension and removing his hair from his grip. You’d done this many times before, he realised. You were all he had for the months after leaving Koholint, your unconditional love despite his less than stellar attitude was something he felt guilty to forget. But perhaps now he’d be content to make up for it by letting you keep him there, curled up against your chest… even if he’d get some teasing.

Twilight didn’t actually remember on his own. In fact, he’s so stubborn and protective over the ‘pack’ that he likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Epona. For a large part, he trusted her judgment. Most animals did have a keener sense for natural disasters, but she always seemed to have a good sense of character. Sure, it was odd enough she ate right out of your hand with a happy nicker, but she just really liked apples. She’s a horse, she’s easily bribed. But even then, he’s not sure how much bribing it would take for her to lay down and let you braid flowers through her freshly brushed mane. It was trust. From all the other times you did it absentmindedly —occasionally even to him— it seems her trust in character was still sharp.

Warriors was actually slightly embarrassed by how he came to remember. Dripping wet from the rain and favourite cloak littered with mud and holes, he was rather cranky. He got showered and changed —thank the three they were at an inn— and decided to leave the stained and worn clothes as a tomorrow problem. That was until his prized blanket scarf found its way into to your mits. He tried to snatch it back, earning some odd looks and the shutter of the sheikah slate. You were frustratingly difficult to catch. It seemed that hadn’t changed. When he was ultimately successful, however, he realised that you’d actually been making an incredibly successful job at washing and repairing it as you’d done thousands of times before. He remembers you my firelight, cobalt swathed over your lap as your needle glided through the fabric. He remembered trying to imitate your stitches. He remembered how he never quite got it right.

He let you finish working.

Four was having a crisis. Do not let his indifference fool you, this man is a wreck. Best believe that beyond his surprisingly stubborn stoicism, the colors are shaking each other by the shoulders and screaming. Red recognised you immediately. His heart was quite literally moulded after your soft words and carefully love, he couldn’t forget you so long as he had a soul. Green being the mediator between them all and heard his quiet utters. The most honest a man could be that his adoration was infectious. It was you who taught him who he was. Blue took a while. So strong-willed in his stance, the he forgot you were the one to teach him to take a stand. He forgot it was you who willed him to fight for what he loved. Vio fell last, what would you expect of the mind. He hardly noticed it. The way his thoughts timed to you, the way he sought your presence and craved your voice. It was you who taught them how to be separate and yet loved them wholly. And such loyalty could only be payed back.

Wind remembered you in fragments. He remembers his parent by oath, who shielded him from the vast world he was so desperate to see. He didn’t understand it at first. But loosing you, especially when his memory wasn’t fully gone like the others, was rough. He mourned and grieved, even if he didn’t realise it. He missed being cared for. Without the looming question of what favor needed done or when it would go away. He missed you. It took a while to heal. For him to feel ok trusting in people again, even eventually curling up next to Wars when he’d try to sleep. He felt guilty, as if he were betraying you when you dug up dead feelings. But it’s hard to be a rebellious rascal when your partner in crime is finally returned to you especially after you were concerned you killed them. It takes him a while to process your back, but he’s back at your side, tugging you along by the hand as he explains his next devious prank.

Hyrule remembers you through his magic. The way your heart stutters as he heals you is familiar, a beat he’s fallen asleep to many times before and the life within it is one he can’t help but feel… connected to. He keeps a close eye out, his ears wiggling at the familiar music of your laugh and his skin unfamiliar without your own to cradle it. You share a spirit with them, a bit of your soul and theirs and a small both of theirs in you. And yet his mind can’t call out to why. It keeps him awake, taunting at him. But he knows his soul yearns for the part with yours. He knows the rush of your blood and song of your soul. He knows he loves you. Even if he doesn’t get why.

Wild takes so long to remember you for exactly the reasons you’d expect. His mind hides away the most crucial parts of itself in plain sight, never to be noticed or recognized until the memories are far too warped and rotten to actually remember anything. Anything of note, that is. But for what it’s worth, he never really perceived you as a threat. You were homey and comfortable, a trait so unfamiliar to his life of travel, he didn’t care if it left a sword in his stomach. Besides, not any yiga could take on an act that long. He took off the cooked eggs and set them onto a separate plate as you sat quietly, Wind strewn over your torso. You hummed softly the same work song he’d sung for years. One for which he didn’t know the origin, not until hearing you for what felt like the first time again. He couldn’t help but hum along.

Sky was cursed to forget you.

I must preface because he is a lover boy first and hero second. He wouldn’t care who Demise was, nor his business, so long as you were safe and loved. He loved you more than each and every star in the sky. And he’d already began to start planning your home. He knew he loved you. He knew he was made to love you. And that was exactly why he was made to forget you. That loyalty was scary to the gods. That one would devote themselves to another for little more than love in return— Hylia could not risk her heroes to stray. But try as she might she couldn’t surpress you. Not when you were already married, souls intertwined through every timeline. Your role varied, a healer, a helping hand, a comfort, a home, a parent, a lover, a souse. But you were always someone to Link. No matter what the gods declared. He remembered you only after all the others had, but he’s alright with that.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 425: New Normal

Previously on BnHA: Everyone was all “and with that we conclude our final battle for better or worse!! We will now commence our slow return to the new normal, beginning with our protagonist and deuteragonist who are miraculously more or less intact, albeit exhausted and mildly traumatized. Also the words ‘more or less’ are kind of doing a lot of heavy lifting there.”

Today on BnHA: The Big 3 and Aoyama are OUT. Shinsou is IN. The Tododrama is PENDING, and the mysterious figure in the shadows is UNIDENTIFIED. Also class 1-A finally becomes class 2-A and it only took them 425 chapters and TEN LONG YEARS. Can you imagine if this series had actually run throughout their high school experience like people once expected. “THE YEAR IS 2044 AND MY HERO ACADEMIA IS FINALLY WINDING TO A CLOSE.” There’s an alternate universe somewhere where this actually happened and we were all so very, very tired.

This is once again a shorter than usual reaction summary post, as opposed to my typical page-by-page liveblog. Not gonna have time to do those for a while yet most likely, but like hell am I gonna miss out on the last days of the series, so here we are.

Once again basing this off of @pikahlua’s spoiler translation summary here!

watching the eighteen inch tall Rat Principal standing at a podium overseeing this graduation ceremony is surreal in the most wonderful way. it’s like receiving your diploma from a sentient Funko Pop

I love how they established that Mic sitting there screaming at the top of his lungs is also a beloved U.A. graduation tradition, and that the senpais just roll with it while everyone else is in varying stages of trying to decide if it’s too late to transfer to another school

ngl sometimes I forget that Ochako and Toga were actually the second canonical f/f ship in this series. shoutout to Hadou and her adorable girlfriend whose name I absolutely cannot recall

absolutely wild that Horikoshi gives credit to Rat Principal for coordinating the entire disaster recovery nationwide. are you serious. the “world-famous” Principal Nezu?? you’re telling me this little capybara is effectively the secret president of Japan now or something. when does he even sleep

“the principal made great contributions to quirk morality education” is also a VERY interesting tidbit that I really want to know more about. “hey guys what if we did a better job at teaching people not to be dicks with their quirks” AND JUST LIKE THAT JAPAN WAS SAVED huzzah

“we lost many things, but we gained nothing” is both HILARIOUS and soundly depressing, but I can see what he’s trying to get at. still an odd choice for a graduation speech though. “our job is all about harm reduction, and we couldn’t even do that this time around, but in the future we hope to balance things out and maybe even get some net positive impact going!” lmao. again it’s all true, and in all honesty it’s spectacular that they managed as well as they did, all things considered. and I guess it would have been disingenuous to just ignore the reality of everything this particular school body has been through and pretend like everything is great right now. but I still can’t help feeling like there was probably a more inspiring way to get this message across lol

regardless of what he says, Aizawa 100% either bribed or threatened Rat Principal behind the scenes in order to stay with his class. and will do so again next year. he can and will keep getting away with it. he is never leaving these kids

and the sheer relief from all of them upon hearing it is all the justification he needs. these kids have four thousand nine hundred and seventeen accumulated traumas among them. they don’t need a four thousand nine hundred and eighteenth. this man is their father ffs. MINA WAS CRYING AND EVERYTHING

Kacchan watched that YouTube video about a dozen times until he managed to tie his tie all on his own with the one hand. and he did an amazing job. he’s such a model citizen now

also it looks to me like he has his right arm hidden in a sling underneath his shirt, which is interesting. if I’m not mistaken (and I very well could be, since it’s been a hot minute since I did any BnHA timeline math), the final battle took place sometime in early May, so this chapter is taking place roughly one month later. the hospital chapter took place about a week after the battle, so it’s been about 3-4 weeks since then. I really want to know what kind of shape Kacchan’s arm is in, but I guess Horikoshi will get to it when he gets to it

also, “we all gotta be together today” was a real wakeup call to me in that it gave me just an absolutely ridiculous amount of feels. just a totally unreasonable amount. and it’s like. listen, self. Kacchan has completed his character growth arc. he’s a team player and a leader who loves all his friends and they all love him in return. we’ve known this for years now. it’s an established fact. you can’t keep bursting into tears or whatever every time he shows it. this is no way to live your life. I need an intervention

anyways later this evening class 2-A is gonna have a celebratory movie night in the common room, and Kacchan is gonna fall asleep two minutes in peacefully surrounded by all his classmates, and they’re all gonna nudge each other and smile fondly and cover him with a blanket and stay up until 2am and Aizawa will have no mercy on them the following morning. it’s gonna be so wholesome you guys

(ETA: I decided to go back and have some more feels about this one tiny Kacchan panel, because apparently the four paragraphs I already wrote about it weren't enough. so the thing is, Sero's wonderment at Katsuki being out of the hospital initially read to me as half bemused awe, and half "oh boy, time to get back into our usual rhythm of antagonizing Kacchan!" but my second time around, I can't help remembering that all of Kacchan's classmates got to watch this kid getting tortured and strangled and stabbed through the heart in 4K. like, even if they were busy with their own fights at the time, there's no way they didn't see the footage later on afterwards.

and that had to have been traumatic for them. their friend literally died and was just lying there so still for so long afterwards. and him getting better and going back to his usual asskicking self later on doesn't just erase those memories, you know? especially with him having lasting, permanent damage afterward. not just his arm, even! like who even knows if his heart is going to be okay long term. when people get organ transplants they have to go on immunosuppressants afterwards because otherwise their body will try to attack the replacement organ. so I wonder how exactly it works when it's still your heart, but it's being held together by various bits and pieces of a spindly little floss man. idk, but I bet you it's still pretty rough.

anyway so long story short, I'm now reading this as one-third bemused awe, one-third joking antagonism, and one-third genuine "no seriously, is it okay for you to be here, please don't do anything to put your health at risk because we seriously cannot handle you dying on us again." and Kacchan's not even disagreeing with him lol, which has to be the most concerning thing of all. "they said it's okay if I rest." even he knows he's pushing it, but it was too important of an occasion to miss. anyway please take it easy kiddo.)

Aoyama leaving makes me sad but it makes total sense for his character after what he’s been through. he needs time to sort things out and continue down his own personal honor-regaining journey. respect

also glad to hear that it was his own choice and that both Rat Principal and Nao would have supported him if he stayed. I still to this day do not understand Naomasa’s actual level of authority lol. like, he’s supposedly a detective, and yet he seems to be personally in charge of every single important police operation, on like a national level. and he has the authority to make decisions like letting Aoyama go free. he is the law, literally

Aoyama trying to feed Deku some farewell cheese also took me out. like he just walked in there and was all “sorry everyone, I’m leaving, but I’ll still aim for the path of a hero and will one day return, don’t you worry!” and at some point in the midst of this tearful speech he made a beeline directly to Izuku and tried to give him some cheese that he apparently just had in his pocket or something. and Izuku was all “YEAH!” all solemnly but HE DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH THAT POCKET CHEESE. like he loves you and accepts you for who you are Yuuga but COME ON

at this point in the chapter it also became clear to me that Aizawa has his hair up in some sort of loosely assembled messy bun and that’s why it looks so especially flowing and gorgeous today. this is great cinema

and then AT LONG LAST, the admission of Shinsou into class 2-A. they tried everything they could to keep him out, BUT NOT EVEN THE END OF THE WORLD COULD STOP HIM. his rightful place

Ojiro’s scandalized response to hearing Fuwa refer to Aizawa as “Era-sen”, and then Fuwa subsequently revealing all of Aizawa’s secrets and Aizawa getting flustered and kicking her out, was one of the most delightful sequences I’ve read. “nooooo don’t tell them that, what the hell am I gonna threaten them with now”

Izuku has not even attempted to crack a smile since the final battle, aside from when he was frantically trying to reassure Kacchan in the hospital. I’m worried about him but also loving this a little bit, ngl. I am content to wait for you to eventually have a proper breakdown, mister Greatest Hero

also I singled him out on the whole not-smiling thing, but really this is true for just about all of them. my heart aches :(

were there really so many people freaking out over Izuku’s hair that Horikoshi felt compelled to throw in that “HEY DEKU-KUN, YOU SHAVED YOUR HAIR LIKE THAT DUE TO AN INJURY, RIGHT? BUT IT’LL GROW BACK, RIGHT!?” line in there lol. the hilarious thing is that this chapter was already in the books before 424 was released, so it means that Horikoshi anticipated the backlash ahead of time. the man knows his audience

and now for this mysterious little barefoot man randomly emerging from some rubble somewhere. who are you. fandom already thinks you’re everyone from Tenko to Hisashi lol. my personal theory is that he’s just a random citizen who’s hurt and traumatized and needs help. and unlike what happened with baby Tenko once upon a time, this young man actually will be helped by a hero in his moment of need, and it’ll be all hopeful and stuff because SOCIETY IS CHANGING FOR THE BETTER NOW HOORAY

or maybe he really is Tenko, idk. what do I know lol. don’t listen to me

lastly, Shouto out here immediately leaving U.A. after class and ruining my dreams of a class 2-A movie night. FINE THEN. GO AND BE WITH YOUR FAMILY my precious little life preserver. and I’m actually really, really excited to see what their endgame is actually, so yes, Horikoshi, bring it on please and thank you

[xoxochb]

daughter of athena reader x leo valdez ?

— one track mind, one track heart

warnings: friends to lovers, a bunch of architectural shit I can’t explain, ending is rushed pairing: leo valdez x daughter of athena a/n: I wasn’t sure if you wanted a fic or hcs but I thought of this fic idea so I wanted to execute it

“if we move the dressers to the right side the campers on the end won’t get one”

you point your finger to the blueprint where the bed sits against the wall. leo frowns and erases the sketch. “we could move them to the left?”

“yes, but then how would they open the drawers if it’s right beside the wall?”

“I’m… not sure”

you tap your nails against the table in thought. “I’m out of ideas. we should really just ask annabeth-”

“no!” leo cuts you off, then releasing the tone of his voice his cheeks flush pink “sorry. we can’t ask annabeth I told her I could do this”

“and I know you can. but don’t you think it would be helpful to have a third point of view on this?”

“not if that person is annabeth”

you roll your eyes and cross your arms, leaning your lower back against the table. in deep though, leo taps his fingers against the table similarly to how you had been, yet this was in code. a while back you had asked him to teach you, and happily he did so. you spent many long nights studying with him (you would be ‘pop-quizzed’ as leo called it, which basically consisted of him asking you stupid questions in code) until you mastered the wonderful arts of morse code. what he tapped know you chose to ignore, perhaps a mistake? or habit? you weren’t sure but the silence was eating you alive so you speak your next idea,

“what if we just leave the cabins as is? I know it defeats the whole purpose of remodeling but do we really need to remodel?”

leo stops his tapping. “no,” the tips of his curls ignite in tiny sparks. “but I think it would be cool to have something that we made. together”

you frown at his words. “oh leo. we have other things together! like when you taught me morse code? or in the winter when you let me sleep with you because it’s cold in my cabin? or even when we tried baking a cake for piper’s birthday but we forgot about it and it burnt”

you recall the last vividly. It was two years ago and you had been assigned to bake it, leo however, wanted to help out and who were you to say no? the beginning was fine, you successfully got all the ingredients together but when the mixing part came that was when disaster struck. leo accidental took the mixer out of the batter while it was still running and it flew all over the room including all over the both of you. after that fiasco you got the cake into the oven (finally), but after the cleaning you and leo were out cold on the kitchen floor, not found until an hour later when your sister entered to a smoke filled room with two idiots peacefully sleeping in each others arms. mr. d banned you both from going anywhere in the vicinity of the kitchen after this

“we could’ve made it onto the great british bake off with that masterpiece”

you don’t even attempt to suppress the growing smile on your lips. “right? but what I’m trying to say is that we have things, and they are far more exciting than remodeling cabins. besides,” you take his warm, tapping hand into yours, but surprised to find he averts his tapping to the back of your hand now. you suck in a breath and continue, “I’ll still love you all the same even if you can’t do this anymore”

that makes his hand stop tapping and he looks at you with wide eyes, realizing you had decoded his message. he stutters trying to form a coherent sentence, even his hands begin to spark making you yelp and pull your hand back

“oh gods! I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

leo scrambles to take your hands back into his as a silent apology. “don’t apologize, leo, it’s fine”

he pouts and inspects your hands. “are you sure? did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, really” you confirm, but leo continues nonetheless

“if you’re hurt then I can take you to the infirmary. I’ll give you ice! does ice help with burns? it should…”

you speak his name but he doesn’t listen

“I won’t give you ice what if it makes it worse? maybe you should let will see this, he’s a great healer!”

“leo”

“do your hands hurt? they don’t look hurt but you never know…”

“leo”

“I’m really sorry, did I say that already? well I am-”

speaking doesn’t seem to be helping your case, so you close your eyes and slot your lips with his, ultimately shutting him up. when you pull away you see his hair and begun sparking again and that now he isn’t able to form a complete word. you begin to worry you read the signs wrong

“oh gods, I’m sorry. I should’ve asked, that was stupid of me I’m-”

“do it again”

your brows furrow. “what?”

“please”

In the midsts of your confusion, leo kisses you again, this time longer. but who said it ended with just two?”

[peenisblog]

hey baaabe, can you maybe write tae or jimin falling for oc whos also an idol but they cant really show it to anyone? 🥹

A/N: I will write Tae with a proper secret relationship but for now I present to you……

IDYLLIC

IDOL!JIMIN X IDOL!GN!READER

Synopsis: Jimin has a rule. A code if you will. Under no circumstances will he ever date another idol. He's lived by it for many years. Not once has he ever been close to breaking it. Until he met you that is.

W/C: 2.2k

WARNING: Jimin struggling with his feelings slight angst

REQUESTS: OPEN

It wasn't ideal. In an industry like Jimins you don't have time for relationships. A lot of the time you don't even have the mental energy. There was too much to work around.

You don't want to date a fan. They already have a version of you built up in their head. One that would quickly prove itself untrue.

If you do manage to find someone who doesn't know who you are that too can become a disaster. Paparazzi lurk behind every corner. The whole relationship is forced into secrecy. It could ruin your career, it could ruin your partner's life. It isn't good for a relationship. Most people need more. They want to go out on dates. They want normalcy, not to be hidden deep in a closet like dirty laundry.

There were other idols… one look at an idol of the opposite sex and the media would be pumping out articles about a secret love affair. Every week someone would come up to Jimin asking about an idol he hadn't even spoken to.

That was only part of it. Companies would clash. Some companies would push a narrative to try and profit off it.

In the Idol industry, two idols dating was taboo. Some sort of curse that ran rampant through the industry. People would talk behind their backs. Send sympathetic looks to the poor souls that fell victim to it. It was hard as an idol not to fall for another. Idols ended up being around other idols quite a bit. People have needs and when you're surrounded by attractive people it's hard not to go seeking comfort.

Another idol would know what you're going through. They could understand things regular people never could.

But it always ended badly. The media loved it. It was a drama that kept people clicking. So the cameras kept flashing.

So Jimin did the sensible thing. He swore off dating. Of course, every now and then he would find himself in someone's bed. But it never was more than that.

He would risk his and his members career on a scandal. Jimin knew he wouldn't be able to balance a relationship and everything else like Namjoon does. He would slip up when he knew he would. It was easier to just not even try. It was better this way.

For a long time it worked. Jimin managed. He wasn't tempted. He was good.

Until you waltzed into his life. It was at a photoshoot. You were also set to get photographed by the same photographer.

Your shot was before his. As luck would have it, Jimin had arrived early and the staff invited him back.

He had seen you before. Your face was plastered over posters and billboards all across Seoul. None of it could compare to you in real life. None of them, not even the best photos that got the front page of magazines, came close to capturing all of you.

Jimin couldn't tear his eyes away from you as you posed. Your eyes strayed from the camera and settled on him for one brief flickering moment and that's all it took for Jimin to know he was a goner.

Then as if you hadn't even seen him at all your eyes settled back on the camera. Jimin hightailed it out of there and into the break room.

Water. He needed water. That's it, he was probably just dehydrated. Jin was always getting on his case about drinking more water. Something to drink and he would be just fine.

He had just cracked open the bottle and was about to take a sip when he heard you.

“Hey it's Jimin right?”

Slowly almost like a scene out of a movie Jimin turned. Only a few feet behind him there you were. Still in all the glam required for the photoshoot, obviously you had just finished. Jimin swallowed dryly, wishing he had drunk the water already. His tongue was sticking to the rook of his mouth. He managed one shaky nod.

“I'm Y/N.”

“I know.” Great, he had finally managed to say something and he sounded like an asshole.

You took it in stride, or maybe you just hadn't noticed

“Sorry for making you wait. Had some wardrobe issues so we went a little over time,” You said sheepishly.

Then as if it was the most natural thing in the world you reached around him and grabbed one of the water bottles on the counter.

Instantly your scent surrounded Jimin. His breath hitched before he settled on just holding his breath. This close he could see the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. He could see the smallest crease in your eye makeup, probably from laughing.

You leaned back like nothing had happened at all. Like you hadn't just thrown Jimin's code and way of life out the window. You hadn't noticed a thing at all.

Jimin's photo shoot didn't go as well as they usually did. His mind was elsewhere, his poses a little sloppy as he tried to listen to the staff. But everything just felt like static noise.

Ever since then you seemed to be everywhere. Or maybe Jimin was just now noticing your presence.

You were at every party. Every formal event. Always dressed exquisitely. Always looking perfect. Always distracting him.

The rest of his members took notice. They would cast each other looks every time Jimin's eyes strayed back to you.

Jimin tried his hardest not to think of you. To cast every thought of you from his mind. He would turn off the T.V if you came on screen. He would turn off his phone every time you were trending.

Yet everywhere he went. You were there. When he got seated next to you in a fashion stone all he could do was sit stone still. He listened to you gush about the pieces with your friend and it just made everything ten times worse.

Occasionally you would turn to Jimin and try to make small talk. Everytime you two were in the vicinity of him you tried to talk to him. Maybe you were just being polite but Jimin couldn't help but relish in it.

It was so unnatural for him. Jimin was used to making others flustered, not the other way around. He just had that effect, yet this time all of it was turned around on him.

All of it came to its peak on New Year's eve. Hoseok had insisted on throwing a party. Only certain people were invited. Mostly other Idols the group trusted and some personal friends.

You made an appearance. Something Jungkook who had made the guest list failed to mention.

You were beautifully done up and hanging off the arm of one of your friends. The two of you looked so comfortable together. You fit into that spot so perfectly Jimin started to wonder if the two of you were dating.

The thought made him so uncomfortable that he had to turn away. Jimin just missed the look Jungkook gave him.

Jimin poured himself a drink, the first one of the night.

“You alright man?” Jungkook asked.

“Yeah why?” Jimin took a sip and winced at the sharp taste of alcohol and way to sweet juice. Damn Taehyung and his strange drink concoctions.

“I dunno. Lately you've seemed…” Jungkook paused, not sure how to put it, “Strange. You know you can talk to me right? Any of us?”

He wanted to. So badly. He wanted to ramble endlessly about you. How you always managed to look so perfect. How you helped the staff that one time you spilt a drink. How you always kept a calm composure when something clearly ticked you off. How he thought about you every waking hour.

But he couldn't. They all knew about his code. How he felt about dating, especially dating another idol.

Jimin was afraid that he would agree. They would tell him it wasn't a good idea. Not worth the trouble. And then he wouldn't. Because he respected the options of his members, even if it killed him inside.

Yet he was also afraid they would tell him to stop being stupid. To go for it. That even if it ends horribly at least he had you. Even if it was for a little bit. If they held that opinion… Jimin didn't know what he would do.

So he settled on “I'm fine, just stressed about this next album.”

Jimin could tell Jungkook didn't buy it. Not even for a second. Not wanting to be questioned, Jimin slinked off to go find Jin and to avoid you.

He managed well. Jin was in the kitchen over seeing Taehyung's new drink ideas.

You were easy to avoid. Jimin could easily spot your form in the crowd. Pick out your laugh in the cacophony of voices.

Halfway through the party Namjoon came and found him, “Hey Min can you go grab the bottle of tequila I left out on the balcony? My hands are kind of full.”

Namjoon gestured with an arm full of coats. Jimin didn't even notice that most of the coats were the groups, which had already been started away in their respective closets.

“Oh so it's a tequila kind of party?” Jimin said with a smirk before he pushed himself away from the counter.

He worked his way through the crowd before he reached the glass doors leading out to the balcony. Jimin spotted the bottle, sitting on the patio table. He slipped out to quickly grab it.

But what he failed to notice was you, arms crossed and leaning over the balcony. Gazing up at the stars.

Jimin noticed you only a split second before you turned around.

“Oh hey Jimin,” you greeted. It was too late now for him to scamper back into the party.

“Hey. What are you doing out here?”

“Oh you know. Just needed a break from the party.”

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement.

“Care to join me?” You turned back around to look at the night sky once more.

“Well Namjoon asked me to-” Jimin looked over his shoulder back at the glass doors. What he saw cut his sentence short.

Yoongi was staring at him with a devious little smirk. When their eyes met Yoongi reached forward and turned the lock on the door.

God damn him. Jimin gestured widely at Yoongi, willing him to unlock the door. It's not like he could yell out and demand him to. Not with you standing there.

With a cheeky smile and wave Yoongi slinked off into the crowd. Leaving Jimin stranded on the patio with you.

“Do I bother you?” You asked.

Jimin swung back around so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. You hadn't turned back around but there was a noticeable tension in your shoulders.

“What?” Jimin said bewildered, “No? What makes you say that?”

“It just seems like you've made it your life mission to avoid me.”

Jimin was starting to wish he had accepted the third drink Tae tried to shove into his hands. He could really use the extra liquid courage right now.

Damnit. Jimin thought to himself. Get it together. You're a grown man. Jimin Park.

Jimin breathed out a deep breath and came to rest against the railing with you. His eyes focused on the cityscape in front of you two. He couldn't trust himself to look directly at you. He might jump onto you and never let you go.

“I don't…. Dislike you.”

“Well it sure seems like you do.” You said quietly.

Jimins heart panged. This wasn't what he wanted.

“I'm sorry…”

“Listen. I know we don't know each other. And we don't have to. Let's just be civil? It's hard in this industry.”

No no no. This is NOT what he wanted. Not how he planned this to be. Jimin didn't want to be civil, he wanted to be yours.

“I want to… know you.”

“You don't have to spare my feelings Jimin.”

Jimins head whipped around. You still hadn't looked at him. Your jaw was clenched and your bottom lip was quivering as if you were about to cry.

“I'm not! I'm really not, Y/N I-” Jimin took a deep breathe “I like you. I really do.”

You were silent.

“I don't date…” Jimin said after a moment.

“Oh….Jimin…I really think I like you too… But I don't do hookups.” You said slowly.

“That's not what I meant… I mean usually I don't date. But I can't stop thinking about you. You make me want to throw that rule away and never look back.”

There were some cheers from the party. Then the countdown started.

You turned to face Jimin head on. Your eyes met his for the first time since he came out to the patio.

“Three!”

Jimin swallowed and his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“Two!”

“Jimin. Will you kiss me?”

“One!”

He pressed his lips to yours as cheers echoed out from the party.

[n0tamused]

Heyyyy so im feeling evil and thinking of some sort of reader x blade x jingyuan where blade and reader like each other but jingyuan likes reader and it's this sad painful dramatic thing where jingyuan has to let reader be happy because happiness for her is with blade not with him

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. A Haunted House‧₊˚𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ

A/n: I hope you like this you... youu!! (pointed finger at you emoji) Tbh I wish I could write concrete chapters for these things, but I don't hav the time.. Maybe one day I'll something long/multi-chapter. I love long angst and build up aaa

Content: Angst, Jing Yuan reminiscing about you, how he watched you and Blade grow closer together, remembering how he could never bring himself to stand between you and the person your heart called out for; unrequited love, no comfort

Words: 1490

Ko-Fi

Ages have come and gone with the turns of every amber era, each one feeling slower than the last and bringing by joys and sorrows uncounted. Jing Yuan had read too many words, tested his tongue with various titles and courtesies, yet the words he was attempting to read now tasted like ashes and looked like broken ripples. He found himself losing focus as of late, much more frequently and he could not blame the habit onto his usual sleepiness or the duty of a General that weighed across his shoulders. The papers before him were the reports of his fellow subordinates, Cloud Knights, about their recent investigation. He had read the same paragraph multiple times and found himself more disappointed than the last when the words did not seem to be written in his language. 

His thoughts were plagued by you. To anyone else in his shoes such a notion would bring shame to the General - this wise and old figure who has blooded his weapon and led his ship to prosperity, but he breaks at the notion of a missing warmth and imagined what-could-have-beens. But that small world of memories and dreams is all that was able to comfort him these days, it helped him wake up in the morning when it stabbed through his chest and prevented him from further sleep, all with a sad smile on his lip. What it could have been, if you had your heart for him and not Blade.

It was the late evening when he left the confines of the Seat of Divine Foresight, fresh air filling his lungs. The new assistant that was hired to tend his office greeted him on his way out and he bid her farewell with a gentle smile, although he could hardly call her new at this point, she had been around for almost a century, yet it made little difference to him. Little things meant little, they made him sad and made him lose sleep. Ever since the stellaron had been sealed away he could not stop thinking about the disaster. His mind’s eye drifted to the image of your face when he told you the news, always preferring to tell you these kinds of things in person. He told you to keep your guard up and remain close to your residence if you had no other pressing matters in terms of your work - but the image that floated forward more often than not was the way you left.

His easy smile traded places on his face for a look much more solemn when the roof of his residence loomed over his head, heavy and cold. 

“Hello, Mimi..” he bent down and extended his hand to the white feline as it came up to him, pushing its head against his hand in a strong greeting before making figure eights around and through his legs. At times like these, Jing Yuan felt as if this little creature alone harbored love towards him or took him into consideration, be it when she licked his face to wake him in the mornings or when she didn’t mind when he scratched her ears when she brought him a dead mouse as a trophy for him. A show off, this little one is. Sighing, he carefully stepped from her and took off his boots, placing them back into place.

Moving further inside he glimpsed the darkening sky outside, for a moment wondering if some of his more sensitive plants could use some more watering. He spots the low hanging leaves of the more dramatic sort of his plants. It was watered more than any other plant in his care, yet it curled its leaves and blooms in on itself, drooping from its clay pot, asking for another gallon of water.  

There are letters on the table, he had received them and read them that same morning. The letters themselves looked like they had gone through the disaster, with crumbled paper and torn edges, but Jing Yuan could recognize your handwriting anywhere, even in its most unshapely of forms. The envelopes are open neatly, yet torn at the edges where he couldn’t keep himself from ripping it open, his patience bending in the way of his gut-wrenching curiosity. Every step he takes towards the low table makes his feet feel heavy as lead, agonizing, slow, too heavy to bear, but the General has been through many trials, and none felt as painfully rewarding as this one.

In the corners of his eye he sees a different image than the dull walls of his empty home, he sees fragmented images of better days.

You’re sitting next to him and there are drinks on the table instead of letters. Blade- no, Yingxing is sitting across from you, lifting his cup of rice wine up into the air and towards yours. Baiheng is there too, exclaiming how they were going on with the toasts without her. There is one other, but Jing Yuan wishes not to remember. All hands join together making the porcelain cups clink and sing. 

Yingxing looked less gloomy, less reserved, he looked a century younger with the smile he wore on his face and the faint flush on his cheeks which he styled to perfection after a few drinks had settled in his gut, his eyes fixed on you. Your hands suddenly slap Jing Yuan on the shoulder, a playful act, it barely hurt but he swayed as if the impact had him reeling - you scolded him for not paying attention to you when you asked him something. What was it that you asked? A blessing? For what? Why his? There is a ring hanging on a necklace around that pretty neck of yours - only it wasn’t something he gifted you. Yingxing ,for once, used his skill for something other than weapons. He remembers your squeals of joy when you came over to show it to him. 

It was fine steel, an elegant band of rippling black across it, a red crystal on the top embraced by thorny ivy. It was a bold ring, a rather big ring, and the work of it showed that its master did not specialize in jewelry making - but that did not make it any less special or any less beautiful.

He remembers your joy more than the ring, your flushed cheeks and how you were nearly out of breath by the end of the conversation. Your face is fading, he realizes.

Yingxing is what he sees next in his mind’s eye in his later years, wrinkles decorating the corners of his eyes and the corners of his mouth, leaving permanent reminders of his joyous life. He asks Jing Yuan to relay something to you, a velvet box with a metal handle to clasp it shut through a loop. He wonders why he can’t give it to you himself, why task him with such a thing? But he doesn’t refuse. The memory doesn’t end there, but Jing Yuan can’t make himself remember more of it. The doubt, the hurt, the betrayal..

The mirage slips by like indents in the sand which the waves lap away. Another memory takes place. It is just you and him. There are words unspoken. You look older with the weariness in your eyes, and lean forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, but you don’t seem to dare to press yourself any closer to him. This one is not a recent memory, and in hindsight Jing  Yuan wonders if you were trying to apologize to him then, in advance. Did you know things would turn out this way? Did you know he’d let you slip from his grasp like nothing ever existed between the two of you? He let you go, knowing you wouldn’t return to him, yet it hurt. You weren’t his. 

He deserved to know you were alright, he deserved to know the truth of it, deserved to be told not to hope - that’s what all those letters told him, what you said in woven careful words, and he can swear there are dried tear stains on the paper. Were those from you or from him?

“Keep her safe”, he whispered, frowning as the house around him grew gray. Lan, keep her safe. Blade - don’t you dare hurt her. It wasn’t a threat, it was a plea. 

He thought of sending you a response back, it was what kept him occupied the entire day besides his ghosts and your fading scent. Perhaps he shouldn’t - the letters would not reach you, and even if they did they would consist of his words telling you how he wished you all the best, wishing you safe travels through the stars - he could never will himself to hurt you, by words or actions. Sorrowful words would do him nothing, and they wouldn’t return you to him either. 

Jing Yuan decides to not write anything back. 

“(Y/n).. Stay safe. Stay happy..”

Dividers at the top: heavenlayt

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