#would rather one of the rubber toe ones but oh well

[fionacle]

i made virgil’s hoodie in animal crossing, am i able to share the design without online mode?

[supernatural-bias]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: hells greatest dad—various artists

↳ notes: this turned out way longer than expected. reblogs are appreciated

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• What you did with your spare time outside the hotel had never been a problem

• Everyone blew off steam in different ways. Husk gambled is days away at dinghy bars, Vaggie practiced sparing, and Sir Pentious dreamed up designs for his retired war machines. The important thing was that everyone knew better than to ask the other about it

• So your friendship with Lucifer never come up. At least, not until Charlie decided to invite her dad over one day

• You were well aware of the strange relationship you had with the king of hell. He was all powerful ,and technically your ruler, sure, but it was hard to view him that way after you caught him babying a small army of rubber ducks

• It had been such a long time since you’d first met him, honestly you were still surprised you’d remembered it

• Back when you still worked as a part time package deliverer for the UPS equivalent of hell, you’d been tasked with handing off a rather heavy, and rather odd shaped box. The label didn’t give an address, rather a small drawing of an apple with a snake curled around it

• It took you a while, and way too many u-turns, to arrive at a pair of tall metal gates

• An uncertain push of a button had been delivered to a nearby buzzer, and you briefly wondered if you had been sent on a dead end errand. Your boss liked to do that; said it kept his employees on their toes. You just thought that he enjoyed seeing the pissed off looks of returnees

• Nothing longer than a minute passed before you were answered with an overjoyed voice, sounding rushed and getting father away from the mic as he proclaimed ‘I’ll be right down Terrance!!’

• It was only when Lucifer himself had opened the gates to allow you in, that his face fell from an excited grin into one of confusion

• “Oh. You’re not my normal guy.” He frowned, looking up at you slightly. “Are you sure you have my package.”

• You simply showed him the address label’s drawing, and he nodded

• “Yeah that’s it alright.” A little bit of the enthusiasm he had shown at the sight of his delivery reappeared before you. It didn’t take long after that before he remembered that you were both still standing outside the towering stature of his house, and quickly invited you inside so you could help him move the package where he wanted it

• “So! Is Terrance sick or something? I could have sworn it was just yesterday that he was where you are now.  Or a few days. Maybe a few weeks. Alright it’s been a while, but can you blame me. Do you know who I’m talking about? Long horns, red splotches, and a weird amount of hands. He always had the funniest jokes to tell though— “

• The first impression of him you got was weird. For the ruler of hell at least. But as time went on, and you kept delivering packages to his house with each passing month, he just struck you as lonely. His house, while big, was always empty. You would go as far as to say that you were the only steady interaction he had. Even if you were technically required to visit him

• Eventually, you quit your job. It had been a long time coming, and you were looking forward to a different take on life away from packing peanuts and scotch tape. Yet, for some reason, you didn’t stop showing up at Lucifers place. And he didn’t stop letting you in

• “You know—“ The devil approached you one hot afternoon in his work room. It was actually quite cold outside, but the fire breathing duck in his hands had heated up the room something fierce upon demonstration. “If you ever need someplace to stay, my daughter has a passion project that she wont stop talking about. It’s pretty sparse in souls, and I’m sure she’d let you stay there as long as you went along with her plan that she has!”

• You tilted your head with a small hum that day, choosing not to mention the far away look in Lucifers eyes as he talked about his daughter

• “Sounds better than where I’m currently living.” You shrugged, handing him a spare bolt off of the floor when it rolled off his work desk. “Where is the place?”

• So you’d shown up on the Hazbin Hotel’s doorstep, then still known as the Happy Hotel, with a bag or two in had and asking for a room

• You hadn’t told Charlie that Lucifer had mentioned it to you. You didn’t want her to feel like you were only there because he dad had named dropped it, but you guessed that she had her suspicions. You didn’t seem very taken with her title as princess of hell after all

• You were there nearly as long as Angel Dust; the likes of which showed up in the room next to yours a week after the move

• That means you were present for the embarrassing news interview, and in turn, the introduction of Alastor as a new patron

• He had been annoyed by you at first. Unlike Charlie’s slight nervousness at his appearance, or Vaggie’s outright aggression, you practically ignored his spectacular entrance, save for a few quick comments

• That had bugged Alastor. You’d hardly reacted when he’d shown just a sliver of his powers. Your lackluster once over as he pulled the darling Nifty from a fireplace had given him nothing to go on. Nothing!

• “Now what’s your role here, my friend!” The Radio Demon practically sang to you on that same afternoon. He waltzed over to your position in a corner, and his smile thinned slightly as you barely spared a glance at him. You found yourself much more enthralled with the sight of Husk fending off Angel’s advances over at the bar

• “I’m a tenant.” You mumbled, looking right through him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed down at you in an unreadable emotion that day

• He took to annoying you for the remainder of his stay following his debut. With every day, he increased his pestering, and you continued to remain the same

• Neither of you made a breakthrough with the other for quite a while. Months passed, and he found you looking as disinterested as ever with his display of powers. At this point he was sure you were purposely giving him nothing just to see his smile crack at the edges. And he was getting frustrated, for a lack of better words

• It wasn’t until you’d wandered into his recording studio by mistake that something changed

• Alastor felt a disturbance in the air the moment you stepped foot in his little alcove. Territorial demons such as himself could always tell when somebody was trespassing on their land, especially when having as much power as he did, and you were no exception to this rule

• He materialized behind you almost instantly. His limbs were already beginning to crack and stretch in size, a glowing smile casting wild shadows all throughout the room as he searched for what was sure to be your cowering form as you dropped whatever item you were attempting to steal

• Instead, he found you kneeling to the side of his polished desk, blinking up at him as your hands sat frozen in the motion of flipping through a record basket. His record basket

• “And what, pray tell—” Alastor’s distorted voice sounded like an screeching echo. He wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of the hotel could hear it from downstairs “—are you doing here my dear?”

• You didn’t say anything for a moment. He watched as your eyes flickered to this symbols floating around him, then back down to his face

• “I was looking for some good music. Sorry to intrude” You eventually pull out of your weird staring match with him. Dusting the seat of your pants off, you rise to walk past him and towards the door

• Alastor’s mouth opens to say something, but stops when you pause in the doorframe

• “Nice antlers by the way.” You shrug. He doesn’t have to look up to know your talking about the honey structures protruding from his forehead. They really only come out when he starts to take on his true demonic form, and never before has he had someone compliment them

• Before he can get a better read on you, you’re gone

• Turns out, you weren’t exactly unimpressed with him. Just wary in your own way. It was a slight hit to the overlords ego that he hadn’t been able to pick up on that so quick, but he’d never admit it. Instead he took to your new attitude with rigorous mischief 

• Music and murder had been the thing to bridge the gap between the two of you. When Alastor discovered you were particularly fascinated by his time period, he laughed heartily

• “Why my dear, you should have told me you had such good taste!” He wrapped a tight arm around your shoulders. “What is it you wish to know about the darling 1920’s?”

• “Did you really feed your victims to alligators?”

• “Hah! That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” He said while flicking your nose. You just hummed with a scrunch of your eyebrows and wriggled out of his grip. Alastor laughed at that

• You wouldn’t classify the two of you as friends necessarily, but Husk did mention one day that the fact he didn’t kill you that day in his recording studio stood for something

• “He’s murdered demons for less.” The grumpy cat told you. You chose not to respond

• Everything came to a head the day Lucifer showed up at the request of his daughter

• He didn’t notice you right away, instead doing a little dance with Razzle and Dazzle as the rest of the hotel watched on confused. Angel tossed you a look and you just shrugged

• Lucifer eventually spotted you standing by the scrappy welcome table. With the same exuberance that you'd seen time and time again before, he hugged you almost immediately

• “Good to see you again too, Luce. Heard you were coming over.” You exhaled after he set you down. You chose to ignore Alastor as he stepped out of his shadows and stood behind you ominously. You could almost feel his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head

• “Ah so this is his majesty! You’re a bit shorter than I expected.” Alastor’s voice was a bit more grating than you recalled. His grip on his cane tightened as you raised your eyebrow at him

• “Uh, excuse me. Exactly who are you? Lucifer gave the overlord a once over, looking very bored as he did so

• An eye twitch

• “Why the Radio Demon of course! Manager to this very fine establishment, and a—!” 

• “Nope. Never heard of you. Sorry.” Lucifer cut Alastor off and smiled tensely from next to you, not sounding sorry at all

• It became apparent very quickly that the two of them didn’t mix. If a competitive musical number didn’t convince you of that, the way the both of them wouldn’t let go of your arms sure did. By the end point of Lucifer’s visit, you were sure a bruise or two had formed on your forearms

• “You know you should really come visit me more!” Lucifer adjusted his hat as he spoke, sending you a sharp toothed smile as he prepared to step out the door. “I’m sure you get tired of this hotel sometimes. Or at least the people—“

• “I’m sure you’ll find they are perfectly happy with their arrangement!” Alastor didn’t let Lucifer finish his thought. His shadows were getting restless at this point, stretching in the three of yours direction as if attempting to push Lucifer out. At this point Charlie and Vaggie had stopped paying attention to the weird power play between the two of them, instead talking about their upcoming trip to heaven together, so you were all alone. Save for two of your friends that were acting really weird

• "You know maybe the two of you shouldn't hang out."

• "Agreed."

[luveline]

if you’re not sick of the fainting fics yet would you write one with sirius? have a good day gorgeous <3

thank you for your request! i hope you have a good day too ♡ fem!reader

"Hey, sweet girl," Sirius says. A saccharine pet name said rather simply, smoke blown from either corner of his mouth. "You okay?" 

You shrug your shoulders. Sirius sits in the shade, the dusk sunlight kissing the rubber toes of his shoes where he's laid his legs out over the steps into the house. "Did James finish my juice?" 

Sirius scratches his eyebrow, weary not to burn himself with the cigarette held between his index and middle finger. Smoky whorls chase up the side of his face. "Uh, no, but Remus' boyfriend might have thinking it was his. Remus said he'll buy you two to replace it." 

"I don't mind. Just. Think I might need the sugar." 

Sirius squints at you, stubbing his cigarette out hurriedly against the stone steps and standing up. He's in sweats and one of your old t-shirts, blue hair dye staining up the left side like a superheated flame. "You still not feeling well?" he asks.

You offer your hand for holding. Sirius takes it, using the other to angle your face up toward the porch light. 

"Say?" he murmurs, prompting you when you don't answer. 

"I feel wobbly, Siri. Like I could faint. I know I won't, but I still feel rough," you say. 

Sirius looks about as alarmed as a person can get, pulling you up the steps to the house he shares with his mates and down the hallway. "Not having that," he says as he goes, rubbing your cold fingers. "Don't worry. You'll feel better after some dinner. Let me make you a quick crumpet or something. Piece of toast?" 

"I can wait until later on."

He drops your hand in favour of cupping your cheek. "No. Try and have something, my love. I have a bit of soreen here," —he turns away from you to rummage through the bread cupboard— "thick layer of butter and you'll be right." 

You blink against a strange feeling, but it isn't something you can shuck off. A weight gathers in your hands and your knees go weak, and you think, Oh, I'm actually going to faint. 

You manage to put your hands behind you and crumple that way, onto your bum rather than forward into Sirius' back. Your head clips a cupboard door and Sirius spins on the spot, soreen falling in a hurricane of crumbs by your leg. 

"Fuck," he says, on his knees in an instant. You slouch unbidden, and you don't recall passing out, but one moment you're unfurling like a pill bug and the next you've been pulled flat onto your back. Sirius looks down at you in a panic. "Woah, hello. Don't do that again, yeah?" 

"I don't think she really had a choice, mate."

You squint across the kitchen at James, one of Sirius' best friends and roommates. He approaches with a pillow from the lounge, dropping it by your head. "Get your head on that, babe," he says. 

Sirius lifts your head onto the pillow, scowling. "Fucking christ. You need to keep me informed when you're about to go sledding across the kitchen, my love," he says. "We could've sat down. Had a breather." 

"I didn't really know," you mumble. "My legs hurt." 

"You're supposed to elevate them," James says. "Get your blood flowing more to your brain." 

"Lift her legs then, James."

"She's your bird." 

"I'm busy," Sirius says crossly, his hands tucked up by your neck. He turns away from James to give you his full attention, his incredulousness melding to a soft, sad worry. "What's the matter with you? I could've caught you if you'd said." He turns your face from the side. "Just take it easy for a bit, yeah? Do you feel tired?" 

James sighs and grabs your legs to hoist in the air. You're too lethargic to fluster, though you gasp when your back starts to lift from the floor.

"James, you prick, don't deadlift her," Sirius scolds. His tone switches as soon as he meets your eyes. "You're alright," he says, thumbing along your jaw. "You'll be fine." 

"This is too much fuss," you say breathlessly. 

Sirius takes a deep, heaving breath. "Feel my heart," he says, holding your hand to his chest. "Feel that? You scared the fuck out of me. This is the correct amount of fuss." 

He and James keep you there until Remus comes home with a two litre carton of orange juice to save you. "I think half an hour will do it," Remus says, all the tone of an eye roll without the action. "Get the poor girl off the floor. She has crumbs in her hair." 

Sirius arranges you on the sofa, though really you're in his lap, James absconded for a rescue takeaway and Remus hoovering up the exploded soreen from the sounds of it.  "Good thing you're poorly," Sirius says, smoothing your hair back to kiss your cheek. "I hate hoovering." 

[madhatterbri]

Secret Santa | A.S.

Summary: 17.) Secret Santa ~ Alex Shelley x plus size reader, plz use pet names rather than y/n.

Requested by: @tahiri-veyla

Author's Note: I changed my mind and posted tonight. He is kind of hot. 💀 Taken from my prompts list found here. No use of Y/N.

Alex Shelley Masterlist

WWE Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts @cowboywritersworld

"Wow! You got your girlfriend for Secret Santa? That's gotta be the easiest thing ever,"

Alex looked at his friend and smiled briefly. He let out a chuckle as he looked at his girlfriend's name written on the slip of paper. Of course it was going to be easy. They had been together forever. What could possibly go wrong?

He put the slip in his jean pocket and drove to a local store. Alex figured he'd walk in the store, buy something for the love of his life, and walk out in fifteen minutes. Nothing could have prepared him for the moment his mind went blank as he looked at all the items. There are so many things to buy but he doesn't know what exactly he should buy.

The Secret Santa was going to be a party amongst their friends. The gifts had to be out of the park. His little miss had to get the very best things. He was sure he would get something lame for whoever picked him. It didn't matter if it would be another Starbucks gift card that he received that would rot in a kitchen drawer. The sparkle in her eyes that night would make his night.

Alex pulled out his phone and scrolled through Google. He was trying to find a perfect gift for her. Google had an answer for everything, right?

Slippers? What are we? 80?

Gift cards? Hey babe, we've only been dating for years. Here's something because I don't listen to your likes. Don't worry. I'll see myself to the couch.

Okay, so Google wasn't the right thing to use for today. Alex closed the window and texted his best friend. Maybe he could give some sort of insight into his dilemma. It went as well as expected. The message poked fun at his current situation.

Dude, you have one hour until the party. Are you serious? Oh man, you are so ducked.

Alex shoved his phone in his pocket. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. One hour. Only one hour to get everything ready. The wrestler looked through the aisle again and stopped.

A rubber duck with a wrestling face mask stared back at him. He questioned how he hadn't seen this before. The toy would be a great addition to her collection. Besides, wrestling held major importance to them. They met at a wrestling show.

"You are coming home with me," he spoke to the duck much to the bewilderment of the customers around him. His hands fiddled with the duck as he paced around the store.

Alex thought about his girlfriend. His perfect little dove from head to toe. She had a smile that could light up the whole room. A body with curves in all the right places. Her beautiful face and eyes lit up as she had her nose stuck in another book. A blanket wrapped around her feet since they were always cold.

Wait, that's it!

The forgetful boyfriend rushed to the book aisle. She was just complaining about almost being done with a book. Her world was made when she found out there was a sequel. Scanning through the aisle, he found the next book in the series. It was the very last copy.

His next stop was the socks section. A cute pair of fuzzy socks in her favorite color lay at the top of the bin. When he saw they were her size, he breathed a sigh of relief. With no time to lose, Alex made his way to the checkout line with a gift bag in hand.

Alex's friend ribbed him the moment he arrived at the party.

Dead man walking.

Coal would be a blessing compared to what you are going to get.

He chuckled at the lighthearted teasing. "Oh no, my baby is going to love this,"

They stepped inside the home. The host of the party didn't waste much time in allowing people to open their gifts. He wanted to have the presents opened before the adult beverage consumption.

One by one, the gifts were spread out amongst the crowd. As expected, Alex was gifted a Starbucks gift card. He thanked them all the same.

"You are my secret Santa? Isn't that cheating?" His girlfriend asked.

Alex shrugged. "Open it up, darling,"

He watched as her fingers removed each tissue paper carefully. She placed them neatly on the couch next to her.

"A wrestling duck?" She asked with a laugh. "He's adorable,"

Her laughter made him smile. "Keep looking,"

Upon further inspection, she removed the book from the gift bag. Her face lit up brighter than the Christmas tree. "I could never find one in any of the stores. Thank you,"

"You have one more thing in there," Alex told her.

She pulled out the pair of fuzzy socks out and laughed. He couldn't help but laugh as well.

"No more putting your cold feet against me at night," he teased. His girlfriend threw her head back and laughed.

"I guess I'll have to put something else against you tonight," she whispered between them. She leaned in and gave him a kiss. Alex smiled in the kiss. Maybe getting a Starbucks card didn't suck so much after all.

[risingsoleil]

Modern AU Linzin getting hot and heavy in his office.

Long and overdue spontaneous smut for you. Not really edited and it's imperfect.

Oh well lol

Bonus: Linzin Teacher AU

"I fucking hate you so much."

That's the last thing Lin remembers before the lock turned and her body slammed against the wall. Pure muscles and raw strength pinned her down, a smoky taste on his tongue swirling on hers. Her breasts expanded tightly against his chest. Hands slid underneath her skirt and hooked along the edge of her silk panties, and roughly forced them halfway down her knees. Out of instinct, Lin spread her legs further and gasped into his mouth when several fingers slid and stretched the soaking depths within her.

Warmth danced and curled as liquid desire coated his fingers and dripped slowly down her inner thighs. Lin hardened her resolve. There's no fucking way she would let him have all this power over her.

Not Tenzin Wang.

As he kept himself busy attempting to find her g-spot (while she tried to pretend he wasn't stroking it in that moment), Lin tugged at his belt and forced his pants to loosen under her command. His own pants slid down to his ankle and her hand dove beneath the cotton fabric, gripping the thick length of his cock. Tenzin's teeth bit down on her lip, a low groan and soft hiss clashing between warm breaths.

"Asshole," Lin muttered, firmly stroking the entire length of him from head to base. When her fingers crawled back to the tip, Lin rubbed circles along the edge of the head with her thumb and Tenzin thrusted into her touch.

"Bitch."

Lin growled and pushed him off of her, forcing him to fall back clumsily on the couch. He should be thankful that a comfortable couch was there to catch him, rather than the hard desk hurting his spine while she had her way with him.

Unzipping the back of the skirt, it pooled on the floor in one puddle besides her panties. Her thighs settled on both sides of his hips, locking him down before he could escape with his dick out in the middle of her office. Lin pushed his chest, fingers splayed out until Tenzin's complete weight was pressed into the couch.

Tightening a hand around his cock, a small whimper escaped his lips and a smug smile grew on her face.

"You need to use words to tell me what you want," she whispered in his ear, guiding the tip of his cock right in between slick folds. Tenzin squirmed and attempted to lift his hips upward to meet the heavenly heat. Lin granted an inch to enter her, eyelashes fluttering close at the familiar beginning of a filling sensation.

Tenzin moaned.

And she raised herself off of him.

"Use words, Wang." Her juices smeared along the base of him, the underside of his cock aligned perfectly between wet folds. Soft moans trickled from swollen lips with every subtle shift and grinding movement. She felt him harden even more, his skin reddening slightly with more heat. "I thought you were a smooth talker."

His fingers dug into her hips, nails scratching her sensitive skin. Tenzin locked her in place and palms caressed over her hips, and squeezed her ass. Lin bit her lip, a moan cascading out.

Smack!

"Show me how well you can ride me, Beifong."

"No protection?"

"I can pull out."

A smirk. "We'll see about that."

Hands massaged the supple flesh of her ass, refusing to let go. "You're the one who can't handle me."

"I won't make it easy for you."

"You could end up pregnant."

"Ha! Don't make me laugh, Wang." She leaned closer. "You wouldn't be able to get me pregnant."

Smack!

"Hurry up and ride me then. Show me what you can do, Beifong."

Fingers tightened around his cock and Tenzin's toes curled. "Don't tell me what to do."

Why is she challenging him? They should be using protection. He should have a rubber on. Why isn't she getting the fuck off him and demanding he retrieve on? But most importantly, why isn't she moving?

"You're not even—"

Tenzin's head tilted back, words dying in his throat and fingers flexing into Lin's hips.

Whimpers and high gasps stuttered out of Lin's lips as she slowly lowered herself on him. Lin rotated her hips in a small circle to help her body accept him more easily. Her hand gripped his shoulder, only relaxing when every inch of him disappeared.

Both stilled for a moment, allowing their bodies to process the union. Tenzin subtly raised his hips upwards into Lin. Her eyes clenched shut at the sensation of him tickling deep within her.

"Fuck, Wang," Lin moaned, peering down to see her success.

His hands slid underneath her blouse, trailing up her spine and pulling her lightly toward him. A trail of pleasurable shivers followed his fingers, igniting Lin's skin. Tenzin returned back to her waist.

"Ride me, baby," he breathed against her neck, tracing his tongue on her skin. Hints of perfume pricked his palette and he moved to another spot—below her collarbone.

Lin leaned further against him, arms wrapped around his neck for leverage. Her knees guided the movements. Her body bounced lightly up and down. Both attempted to keep their moans leashed to their small bubble to avoid any unwanted interruptions. Lin buried her moans near Tenzin's ears, and she swore she felt him grow more inside of her.

Tenzin's knees began to dance to the rhythm and tempo that Lin created. Somehow, that pulled Lin out of the trance she fell into. She was the one who was supposed to have the upper hand against him. Yet, he was the one taking charge because she could feel himself restraining himself from using full force to pound into her.

Her jaw clenched as another moan spilled out from her.

Oh, that won't do.

She would not let Tenzin Wang win at all costs.

She squeezed her inner muscles.

"Oh, fuck! Lin, what are you—?!" Tenzin stiffened immediately, body almost lurching forward out of instinct. His dominance melted in that moment as Lin's inner walls pulsed and squeezed evenly. Deep and guttural groans dissolved into weak whimpers and soft cries.

Lin shifted, all of her weight resting on her feet instead. She was still adjusting to his size, but the submissive moans dancing in her ears stroked her ego and desire for power. The vibrations of their coupling reverbrated into the pit of her stomach and below her heart. He was hitting deeper and stronger in this new angle, and also crumbling to the divine pleasure only she would allow.

"Oh, baby, please..." Tenzin whimpered, biting his lip. His head leaned back, eyes closed. Lin spotted his pulse and kissed it, tracing small circles with her tongue over the sensitive spot. More waves of moans and unrestrained whimpers flowed in tandem with her desire. "I'm about to cum..."

"You're about to cum?" She kissed his jaw and licked his ear.

Tenzin whimpered and nodded. "Mhm."

Her tempo slowed and a frustrated growl released.

"What are you doing?" Tenzin hissed, raising his hips to pound without abandon into her. But gasped when her inner walls clenched his dick intently. "Fuuuck, baby. Please..."

"I like when you beg," Lin chuckled darkly. "Keep doing it and I might let you cum."

"Lin, please."

She bounced on him harder, faster, and incomprehensible words bled out of Tenzin's mouth. Loud clapping of their bodies echoed into the room, bouncing off othe walls.

"Do you like that?"

"Yes," his voice cracked.

"Are you gonna cum?"

"Uh-huh."

"Where?"

"I-I don't know. Baby, I just need you to let me cum."

"I won't let you make a mess in my office."

Tenzin's fingernails dug into her flesh. "Okay," he whispered, panting loudly and unevenly. Lin didn't stop nor slow down her speed and intensity. "Fuuuuck, baby," came the deep, guttural and raw groan the moment she squeezed Tenzin's cock within her.

"Mmmm."

His cock twitched and she slowed her tempo, stopping not longer after. Tenzin buried his face into her shoulder and Lin scratched his nails at the nape of his neck.

"Don't get too comfortable," Lin murmured. "You need to make me cum now."

[fruitcoops]

p l e a s e i need more reg and leo! maybe leo going to nyu for a christmas party or something??? awk baby reggie being timid to give leo a present bc he’s never really had a best friend before him? i’m obsessed with your writing!!!

Presentssssss! It's nowhere near February (thank god) but I spent a lovely morning in the sun with a dear friend and wanted to write some bestie vibes <3

It was unseasonably warm, for a Tuesday in February. Leo liked to think that was on purpose. That somewhere, somehow, the universe was apologizing for dropping him into the Northeast and causing winter to exist.

Not that it had much to apologize for—everything else about Gryffindor had turned out to be rather perfect.

The toe of Regulus’ sneaker kept a metronome beat on the hood of the car. Back and forth, tap-to-tap-and-tap, white rubber and black canvas against dark paint. The metal beneath them was sun-warm and Leo could feel himself getting sleepy.

“I got you something.”

“Mmm?”

“I got you something,” Regulus repeated. Leo watched him through the sliver of his periphery, rummaging in his hoodie pocket. It was too big—Sirius’, if he had to guess—with a faded logo on the front. The cuffs were frayed from anxious hands the same as Regulus’ other ones. It was good to see him branch out with colors. The faded blue looked nice on him.

Leo jerked his chin up. “Nice sweater.”

Regulus’ neck reddened. “Not my first choice.”

“Honest, it looks good on you.”

There was a vague, murmured assent before Regulus emerged from his search and thrust his hand out to Leo, nearly smacking him in the chest. “For you. Bon anniversaire.”

Leo bit back his smile as he sat up against the windshield and rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes. They were still working on the whole ‘teasing’ thing. “Thanks, man. You didn’t have to do that.”

Regulus frowned slightly. “I know.”

“Still. Thank you.”

The box rattled when Regulus pushed it toward him again, oddly reminiscent of a puppy offering its chew toy or a cat bringing a dead mouse over the porch. Wrapping paper crinkled in Leo’s hands, thin and wrinkled; scotch tape had been slapped on a bit haphazardly and one corner was ripped from its journey.

Regulus shuffled a millimeter closer, hands hidden in his pocket once more. The minute tilt of his chin gave away his impatience like a neon sign.

The twine bow slipped free with ease, as did the top fold of paper. There was no card, but Leo had expected as much. The gift alone was a surprise; he wasn’t dumb enough to think Regulus would start spilling sappy words to him.

The box was hardly bigger than his palm and had clearly been snatched from an earlier gift. Sturdy cardboard and a well-fit lid that came free with a gentle wiggle. Leo heard Regulus’ breath catch. He was leaning even closer now, peering over like he had forgotten what he put in there.

Or, perhaps, looking for something else. Leo paused for a moment with the lid half-on and risked a glance out of the corner of his eye. Regulus’ gaze flickered between his hand and his face, as if his reaction was worth bated breath and a pale hand twisted in old polyester.

Leo took the lid off and let out a bark of laughter. “Oh my god!”

“You like it?” Regulus asked immediately.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He reached inside and took the small Squirtle figurine out, turning it over and over in his palm. “Hold on—”

Gel pens, hard candies, a pop-socket, various trinkets—at least a dozen other items were nestled in the little box with the same care as the mini Squirtle.

At least a dozen little moments when Regulus thought of him.

It hit Leo like a slapshot to the chest. He looked down at the Squirtle, at its painted smile that matched his laptop sticker. More vinyl stickers were tucked to the side of the box and he recalled an offhand comment to Regulus, months ago, that his new waterbottle looked naked without the usual decoration.

“Dude,” he said quietly. Regulus shifted next to him, Converse squeaking on the hood. “Dude, thank you.”

The nerves written all over Regulus’ face broke into careful hope. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?” Leo laughed. “I love it, are you kidding?”

“Oh, okay.” Regulus’ small smile betrayed him; he stiffened when Leo pulled him into an awkward side hug, but relaxed after a breath or two and offered a light pulse back.

“This is—wow, this is so cool!” The stickers were all different, too. Leo could see it in his mind’s eye: Regulus, out running errands or exploring in his quiet way and seeing them by the register. Seeing a rack of stickers and thinking of Leo, of all people, more than once as a passing thought. Painstakingly unwrapping minifigures and peeling price stamps off with his constantly-bitten nails.

It was—it was just too much.

“Regulus,” he said again, softer.

“I was worried it wasn’t right.”

“What?” The tiny wrinkle had appeared between his brows again and Leo nudged him on the shoulder until it faded. “Hey, hey, no, none of that. This is the best present.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“It’s my favorite,” he insisted. Regulus still looked skeptical. “It is, don’t give me that face. I love it. It’s the best.”

“It’s a Pokémon.”

“And candy, and stickers, and, like, a billion other things I like,” Leo argued. “It’s my birthday. I get to decide what the best present is.”

The smile returned; he took Regulus’ punch to the arm happily. “D’accord, it’s not so bad,” Regulus admitted, twisting his hoodie strings around and around in spirals. Despite his words, he looked more than a little pleased with himself. “I haven’t—” He hesitated, then tipped his head back and forth. “I haven’t given a lot of birthday gifts. So. I’m glad you enjoy this one.”

“You’re really good at it.”

Regulus’ ears turned pink. “Ouais?”

“Ouais.”

“Well, merci.”

“Your school friends are damn lucky to have you.”

His grin broadened, affectionate in a way that made Leo’s heart squeeze. He was so fucking grateful for the wreck of last January. “They’re cool,” Regulus agreed. His foot collided with Leo’s ankle. “You’d like them.”

“Sorry, I don’t mix well with nerds.”

Regulus took great care to place the box on the top of the care—a touch Leo appreciated for Squirtle’s sake—before wrestling him into a swift headlock.

[toweroftickles]

Magical Wake-Up Call (Cats 2019 Fluff)

Cats, it must be said, are a lazy breed. This is common knowledge. But Victoria was not normally one to lie around in bureau drawers or on windowsills, sunbathing, licking her wrists, doing nothing. Well, except on her birthday.

Her & Misto’s human family had set up a simple oval cat bed, woolly in texture and faded olive green, in the corner of the drawing room and beneath the broad, white-framed window. Midday sun poured in and covered Victoria in a warm puddle of light, and you could see the dust in the air floating carelessly by the edge of her fuzz. A bundled-up peach-colored blanket served as a crude pillow for her while she curled into a comfy little ball, knees at her chest, purring contentedly.

Wow…she looks beautiful. Mr. Mistoffelees’ heart swelled. For the past half hour, a small beige-ish couch across from Victoria had been his resting place, and he was unmoving from a vulture squat.

He didn’t want to disturb her, not for anything, but he was getting antsy and impatient. It was Victoria’s first birthday with the Jellicles, and Misto was determined to make her feel like part of the tribe. With the help of Munkustrap - as he lacked organizational skill himself - he’d successfully encouraged everyone to do something special for her. Bustopher Jones gathered together a whole Jellicle Feast from his usual back-alley haunts. (Or rather, he’d enlisted others to do it for him and snacked on it during the journey over.) Jennyanydots knew how much Victoria loved her cockroaches and had worked out a last-minute mini-routine with them. The calico twins really went all-out, setting up a basket and pulley from an upstairs window to ferry the two above the streets and right to the Egyptian. Hopefully it would be romantic…that was the idea. But the longer Victoria slept, the more everyone else had to wait.

Maybe he could get her attention with something. Misto didn’t yet have any real, proper control over his conjuring tricks…his wand, his cards, and his dice were the only things he could produce with any consistency. But reaching into his hat or coat always seemed to give him exactly what he needed at any given moment. What would be in there today…a paper clip? No, that won’t help. A can of peaches…a flower…a rubber duck…

From inside his sleeve he finally pulled a huge, fluffy brown peacock feather, the kind of quill that some pretentious upper crust debutante would write letters with (or a toy that a cat would play with, were it on the end of a stick). It was the size of his torso and dressed in joyfully squiggly barbs.

He paused. A few glances, back and forth, between his arm and Victoria, and a lightbulb switched on in his head. Misto held his new toy out as he would his magic wand, grinning like a Cheshire, and silently tiptoed up to his mate. Oh, perfect…this'll be fun. 

The feather slowly stroked up and down the arch of Victoria’s foot, several times…it took a second, but the sleepy white kitten shivered. Her toes clenched up. There it was…a big smile.

“MmmmMMM-Hmhm,” a high-pitched giggle slipped out through her nose. Victoria snapped her arms and legs in like a beartrap around her makeshift pillow and struggled to keep her lips glued together. Her thin fingers clasped tightly at her sides, instinctively trying to shield her from further tickle attacks. Though she made efforts to hide her face, Misto still caught a glimpse of that pretty smile peeking out at him.

Now it was a little game for the both of them: for Victoria, to see how long she could pretend to keep sleeping. For Mr. Mistoffelees, how quickly he could make her laugh. And neither was intent on losing.

“Heh-Heh…come on; I know how ticklish you are,” Misto whispered to her, unable to hide his smirk. He had to hold Victoria’s ankles still as her feet tried to flex and squirm away from his giant feather. It tickled back and forth until her cheeks turned pink.

The soft bristles slowly traced across her pale soles…up her leg…on the back of her knee…her thigh…along her waist…toward her neck...every little brush made Victoria's shoulders tremble. She was a squirmy girl. Her tail danced happily in broad swipes like a metronome…tick, tick, tick….she wasn’t fooling anyone.

"Hmhm-Hm! *gasp* Hih-Hng...Nnnnnn," she whined. She was biting her lip, doing a pretty good job bottling her giggles, while the feather kissed her cheek and shyly slid up to her sensitive ears.

Hm…this wasn’t working. Time for drastic measures. Cracking his knuckles, Mistoffelees turned the quill around and scribbled its sharp tip, as if he were writing, in one of the little canyons in between his girlfriend’s ribs.

Aha! Got her! The white cat squealed quite suddenly and covered her face with both hands. Her flushed-pinkish ears sloped back in dreadful embarrassment.

“Heek! Ok ok ok, I can't t-hake any more…I pr-ha-homise to get up, please dohon’t,” she begged him, snickering helplessly. Her laugh had a wilting, musical sugariness that lured Misto in closer.

“Come on, sleepyhead...” Now that he’d won the game, there was no need to be shy. Misto wanted to look like some big, scary monster pouncing on Victoria from behind (just to be playful), though he was hilariously bad at seeming threatening…he couldn’t even manage a decent growl…and following a half-hearted hop, he awkwardly tumbled forward on top of her, snuggling her in his arms.

All ten of his fingers combat-crawled through the fields of snowy fuzz that coated Victoria’s quivery torso, up her belly and ribs, affectionately scratching her soft skin all over until he was tickling in both of her armpits. She wriggled desperately underneath him. Her insides warmed up like she’d just gulped down a mug of hot cocoa.

"Heh...I wonder who's having more fun here; you or me," the magical cat playfully taunted his mate. That just made her laugh even more.

“Heehee! Hih-Hih Hn…Haha, Ha-Ha!” Victoria giggled and giggled but didn’t want to stop, lost in the shower of nibbling kisses that peppered her neck. Her big grin was half from ticklish laughter and half from the sheer fun of tussling and wrestling with her boy. Pulled by her thin wrists, she was turned over on her back, breathless, trembling, and smiling sweetly up at Misto. Their fingers intertwined, palms pushing against each other, with Victoria unable to shove him away. At last she spoke, still a little giddy. “What’s going on?”

Suddenly, from behind her ear, as if he were retrieving a magic disappearing coin, Mr. Mistoffelees produced an elongated metal earring and gently attached it to her. It was sort of similar to the one she'd worn during her mischievous outing with the calicos – a tall shell shape of pearly pink-white texture, dotted with little veins of gold. She reached up and touched the jewelry when she realized it was dangling from her ear. It was a little big for her, but she always felt so beautiful wearing them - like a princess, she sometimes said. She was not vain, but it was a bit of a weakness for her.

“Heh…ha-happy birthday,” Misto told her, blushing. She smiled right back at him.

“Aw…mmm, thank you so much…but…why did you have to tickle me awake just to tell me that?” She didn't want to be annoyed or upset with him, really; she loved how affectionate Misto was. But part of her couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that her nap was cut short.

“Oh, well, I…um…I-I had a lot planned. Everyone’s waiting for you.” Victoria’s ears perked up. “It was kind of a big deal…I thought we could do some really…fun things today.”

Slowly, Victoria propped herself up on her wrists, and before Mistoffelees could react, zipped forward and pecked him on the end of his nose.

Time stood still, freezing Misto in surprise. His tail curled into a candy cane and his nose turned red, and this delighted Victoria as she stretched out, yawned softly, and stood from her cot. She moved with surprising buoyancy; by the time Misto snapped out of his blip of a trance, Victoria was already across the room by the door and admiring her birthday present in a copper wall mirror. She turned the earring over in her fingers again and again, practically radiating from the inside. There was a twinkle of light all about her, not just from the noon summer sun streaking through her fur.

“Come on!” she called her boyfriend excitedly.

Well…I certainly wouldn’t want to keep her waiting. Not needing any further encouragement, the gleeful Mr. Mistoffelees bounced up and dashed over to her, and soon the two were gone.

It was only in the trailer and not the finished film, but I always loved this shot of Victoria playing in pillow feathers. Not for tickle reasons; it's just cute. ^^

So apparently this is my niche now. This is the life I've chosen. I got this request (and finished it) a really long time ago, but I never uploaded it because I didn't want anyone to think I'm weirder than they already do. XD Don't worry, "normal" stuff is back on the menu soon.

[mintmatcha]

cw: implied spoilers, time skip bakugo

The crisp romanticism of winter has long faded, leaving behind only grimy, half-melted snow marked by bits of gravel and garbage pulled up by the plow trucks weeks ago. The wet, thick chill that hangs in the air is only worsened by the fact the sun is already setting this early in the afternoon, basking the city in an underwhelming, watery pink.

It’s the perfect day to forget, you decide. If summer has dog days, this is a cat day of winter: designed for sleeping, isolating, and letting the world pass by. You wouldn't even be out of bed if Mina hadn't invited you to this stupid dinner.

Running into Bakugo on the way was just a coincidence. You found each other on the train, each of you coming from your respective works, and decided to would be rude to not walk to rest of the way together. Luckily, you knew Bakugo well enough that it wasn't immediately awkward; he was a bit abrasive, sure, but in a sort of charming way that you couldn't quite ignore. The small talk was polite enough, filled with  niceties and questions about life.

Denki has warned you not to bring up work around Bakugo in fear of you being the victim of his wrath, but today he seems okay discussing it.

“Never thought I’d be teaching,” he fiddles with his scarf, pulling it up higher to hide the darker scarring that runs down his neck and across his entire right side, “But my old teacher was retiring and I couldn’t swing the prohero thing anymore, so I figured- fuck, why not?”

You think there’s more to the story, but you don’t push. “Do you enjoy it?”

“Oh, fuck no. Every day is making sure these dumb ass kids don’t kill themselves by accident,” Bakugo barks out a laugh at himself, “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

His affection is hard to read. It’s course, unrefined, hidden in thinly veiled insults.

"Oi, your shoe’s untied."

Bakugo jerks his chin towards you, his eyes lowered accusationally towards your feet. You pause mid-stride and look down. Sure enough, he's right: the laces to your boots have come undone, dragging in the snow behind you, more grey than white now.

"Dammit,” you sigh, kicking that foot forward. Water droplets flick off the end and splatter down the sidewalk ahead of you, disappearing into the heavily trampled snow. “These boots are cute, but they suck.” You scoop down to your knee, but are caught just as your pants hit the cool, wet ground.

“Oi!” A hand, thick before the mittens but almost comically massive now, is clamped around your shoulder, “It’s wet, dummy. Get up.”

Bakugo practically drags you back up before dipping down himself, ripping his mitten off of his free hand with his teeth. It hangs there, dangling comically as he rather aggressively wipes off the soiled knee of your jeans.

“ ‘onna ruin your fuckin’ pants.” The fabric damps his annoyed grumbles.

When he’s seemingly deemed the spot clean, Bakugo pulls away to inspect it, then falls to one knee rather ungracefully, sliding in the slush beneath his rubber soles. Wind kisses cheeks and the frigid tip of his nose both glow red as he looks at you from down there, eyebrows pinched together just like always.

"Here." Bakugo pats his thigh expectantly, waiting for a moment before doing it again. When he huffs, a little cloud of breath rises in front of him. "Come on."

You take a moment to realize what he wants. "What? I don’t wanna get you dirty.”

"I don't care, come on." He tugs you by the laces, guiding your foot into his leg. There's immediately a dark, wet mark across the denim, but Bakugo doesn't seem to notice; he's too busy tugging off his other mitten, tossing both of them to the side.

Bakugo clicks his tongue against his teeth as he hooks a finger under the bottom most rung of your laces and tugs, tightening the toe box of your shoe with one shift movement. A couple walks by, whispering to each other as the step over and around the blonde, and their gaze makes your cheeks burn.

"These boots don’t suck- you don’t tie them right." The digits are stiff and pink from the cold, moving clumsily as he tightens section by section, working his way to the top. There's a peace on his face as he works, a relaxation you don't usually get to see. On the top of his head there's a couple whispers of grey hiding in the blonde. "You gotta-"

With the extra length he's created, Bakugo loops the length around your ankle and ties a quick knot. "Like that."

He pats your calf. "Other foot."

"You don't have to-"

His eyes flicker up, watching you through light brown lashes. The scar over his right eye has long clouded the color and the sight, changing the dark red of his iris into a muddled pink. Mina's shown you pictures of him in high school, back when his features were symmetrical and he was considered classically attractive, but you think you might prefer him now. He's uniquely pretty, with features you have to explore for a moment to fully learn.

Clearly unamused by the denial, Bakugo pats your calf again. With a heavy sigh, you step off of him and bring your other foot up.

Undoing your own knot and redoing his process isn't short work. Bakugo takes his time, breathing on his fingers to warm them up in between rows. It's surprisingly intimate, the way he lingers over you, each touch almost too personal to be solely platonic. He’s stalling, you realize, trying to hold on to this nothing moment on an awful winter day for just a moment longer.

You've never seen him in this light before.

When he's finally done, he sits back on his own heel and lets his arms fall away from you. The world feels like it's shifted one degree to the left.

"You didn't have to do that," you say softly as he gathers his mittens. The yarn has acted as a sponge, soaking up their weight with water. Bakugo curls his lip at this. "I can tie my own shoes."

"Yeah, well," he stands, jamming his hands in his pockets and looking away in a surprisingly coquette move. He speaks softly for once, probably with as much kindness as he can muster. "Someone had to show you the right way to do it."

You both stand there, Bakugo in his ruined pants, you with boots tied almost too tightly, in silence, almost as if you're both waiting for the other to do something.

You almost continue on your way and ignore the flutter in your chest, the strange simplicity that brought you just a bit closer to a friend of a friend-

but then you catch how his gaze flickers to your lips for a fraction of a second-- fleeting, longing.

"Let's go," Bakugo says, stepping forward, "I'm freezing my tits off and Denki's gonna eat all the appetizers before we even-"

You catch him by the sleeve. "Hey."

"What?"

You catch him by surprise as he turns, pressing on to your toes to push your lips into the corner of his mouth. His lips are slick with lip balm-- cherry flavored and sweet beyond belief-- and incredibly warm.

The contact is gone before you can even process whether you enjoyed it or not, his shocked exhale tickling your cheeks.

"What the fuck was that?" he whispers, bewildered. His bangs fall in front of his  eyes as he touches were you just were.

"Just a thank you,” you whisper back, suddenly realizing how crazy you must seem. Maybe you had misread the situation. “I shouldn’t have-”

The world moves around you.

You aren’t sure who leans in first, but his lips are pressed against you now, the icy tip of his nose buried on your cheek. The sharp nip of winter is forgotten, replaced by his canines catching your lower lip as his hands find the curve of your jaw. He pulls you in and you swear you can feel the spark between you-

and then you realize you literally do. Bakugo’s quirk sputters slightly on his lips, nothing more than a tingle and a zap, but it lingers even as he pulls away.

"Well, if you really wanna thank me..." The icy touch of his hand finding yours makes you jump.  "Keep my hands warm 'til we get there."

He squeezes tight. "Maybe on the way back too, since my gloves are ruined ‘cause of you."

You roll your eyes as you squeeze back.

“Yeah, okay.”

[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[calaofnoldor]

Driving My Baby

Characters: Dean x Reader (gender neutral)

Words: 2,183 (i can’t drabble)

Summary: Dean doesn’t know about your mad skills behind the wheel, but it turns out there’s nothing hotter than seeing his baby driving his Baby.

Warnings: implied smut, language, fluff, dean’s bow legs, references to the fast and furious franchise

A/N: was originally gonna post a slightly angsty 2-part dean fic next, but decided against it in light off recent events lol. there’s really no plot or substance here, just some light floof. (and yes, the title is a reference to the song ‘you’re having my baby’)

MASTERLIST

The roar of Baby’s engine rumbled to a halt as Dean glanced over at you, “Alright, so you gonna sit tight while I go scope this place out?”

You sent him a close-lipped smile, trying your best to repress the excitement bubbling within you. “Mhm!” you concurred with a bouncy nod, pausing to sneak a quick peek at his shapely behind when he stepped out of the car, “I’ll try and see if I can get a hold of that morgue guy again.”

Walking over to the passenger side, Dean bent down to kiss you through the open window. “Mmkay, I’ll be back soon,” he mumbled against your lips, before turning to commence his search for the potential vamp hideout you suspected was in the vicinity.

“Oh wait! Dean!” you called out, stopping him in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“The keys?”

Dean looked down at his pocket where the Impala’s keys were safely nestled and then back up at you with raised brows.

“You’re not gonna leave me in here like a dog, are you?” There was a subtle hint of amusement in your voice, but also a challenging edge, as well as a slight pout which you added for good measure. You knew he could never really say ‘no’ to you.

And as expected, Dean returned to deposit the keys into your waiting hands. You gave him a wide smile in return, “Thank you! Love you!”

Your boyfriend narrowed his glimmering green eyes at you, imparting one last suspicious glimpse in your direction as he grumbled somewhat warily, “Love you too,” and then finally sauntered off for good.

Biting your lip, you watched with bated breath as his figure grew smaller in the rear-view mirror. Normally, you would have enjoyed the exquisite vision of what you often dubbed his ‘sexy ass bow-legged swagger’, but this time, it was when Dean was no longer in sight that a devilish grin broke out across your face.

But really, who could blame you? You’d been a car enthusiast all your life, and classic cars were your weakness. “It’s just you and me now, Baby.” Your fingers glided along the dashboard.

With Sam on the bench due to a broken ankle (courtesy of the werewolf from your last hunt), you and Dean had driven out to Piedmont to take care of this vampire case on your own. So now after two years with the Winchesters, you finally had a chance to explore the front seat of Dean’s Baby, his pride and joy, the glorious, refurbished 1967 Chevy Impala.

When you’d joined forces with the brothers, it was readily agreed upon that you would be better off riding together in the sleek American muscle car, so you ditched your stolen, rusty 2003 Honda Accord and never looked back. Since there was a giant moose to accommodate, you were naturally relegated to the back seat, and rightfully so, but boy, did you miss the thrill of being in the driver’s seat.

You were always a bit of a demon behind the wheel, and it’d been ages since you’d gotten the chance to flex your driving skills. Back when you and Dean first got together, he promised you joyrides (and other recreational activities) in Baby, but the hunting life never seemed to let you get it on.

Sliding across the bench seat, your lungs released a contented sigh as you wrapped your hands around the leather-bound steering wheel. Dean’s bowlegs, however sexy, were not the same length as yours, so you pulled the lever beneath the seat to adjust its position to your liking. Perfect.

You took your time getting to know the ins and outs at the helm of the Impala, though it seemed like none at all had passed when you suddenly heard Dean’s deep voice cry out.

“Y/N!” Your eyes shot up to the rear-view mirror to find an image of the older Winchester running towards the car. “We gotta go!”

Well that’s strange, you thought. Dean never ran – not unless someone, or more often something, was chasing him… Oh shit. Had he somehow woken the vampires? But the sun was still thriving; how much could they retaliate out in the open at this point during the day?

“We gotta get outta here! Now!”

Dean’s voice was much closer now and if you’d learned anything from your experiences hunting with the Winchesters, it was to never doubt your boyfriend’s commands. He was a seasoned pro and possessed instincts like you’d never seen. It’s a good thing you’ve also got some of your own.

Plunging Baby’s key into the ignition, you started the car without hesitation, allowing yourself only a second to relish in the thunderous purr of the engine below you and the incomparable feeling of glee that always sprouted in your chest whenever you were sat at the wheel of a powerful, capable vehicle. Indeed, the adrenaline was already rearing.

As Dean approached the car, you quickly reached over to open the passenger side door for him. “Get in the car!”

“You- Wha-“ Dean stumbled for a split second, so accustomed to taking the driver’s seat. “Y/N, they’re awake and they’ve got bikes – a bunch of Harleys!” he continued to explain, as if that would get you to move out of his designated spot.

“OK, so hurry up!” you yelled again.

Seeing no better option, Dean hastily climbed into the car. Just as he got in, your ears picked up the unmistakable resounding growl of revving motorcycle engines. From the sound of it, they couldn’t be too far off. So when Dean slammed the door shut, your foot came down fast and heavy against Baby’s gas pedal, propelling you forward with an aggressive lurch before you whizzed off, burning rubber and leaving nothing but flying leaves and dust in your wake.

“Jesus!” Dean bellowed; his eyes had grown to about twice their usual size.

You paid him no attention though, too busy reveling in the delightful buzz that vibrated through your body starting from your fingers and toes, where you could feel every unit of Baby’s intoxicating horsepower, and travelling up your limbs until the exhilaration settled deep within your very core.

Stealing a glance at the rear-view mirror, you caught sight of the monster-driven motorcade advancing considerably, so you decided to take the next available turn as an attempt to throw them off. Things were getting truly exciting now.

“Vamps on bikes? Really?! And covered in leather?” you huffed mirthfully with a shake of your head.

But it was Dean’s turn to ignore you. He was clutching at his door tightly, as if afraid your driving might somehow hurl him out of it. In fact, when you took the first corner without warning, Dean just about fell over.

“Woah! Slow down, Toretto!” he shouted in alarm, looking over at you as if you’d grown a second head.

Seeing you’d managed to surprise the vampires with your unexpected maneuver however, a loaded smirk was your only reply.

It took you about twenty minutes to get the vamps off your tail, during which time Dean managed to recover from his initial shock and began instead to absorb your radiant form. The look of exuberance on your face and the utter determination in your bright eyes, mixed with the mischievous tug of your lips, and combined with the all-around liberated and euphoric aura that surrounded you was sexy as hell, not to mention your sheer competence. All of it astounded him and caused his blood to flow to places he could not have foreseen.

You seemed to be completely at one with his esteemed Baby, handling her with perfect control and aptitude, and all the while enjoying yourself so very much. It was something Dean never knew you were capable of, but more so, it was something he never knew he needed.

Dean had always loved how much you loved and appreciated his car, but this made him feel like he was seeing you in a new light; it made him feel like he was falling for you all over again. That devilish glint in your normally kind and virtuous eyes, your ever jubilant and fervent love for life after enduring so much pain and grief, the way you never ceased to amaze and surprise him – it was all gloriously heady and irresistibly addictive. His teeth couldn’t help but pull at his lower lip, emerald eyes glazing over with lust and adoration as he stared over at you in the driver’s seat.

So when you ultimately pulled into an empty clearing, not wanting to lead the vamps straight back to your motel room, Dean was at a loss for words.

“So, a bloodsucking motorcycle gang, huh? Can’t say I’ve seen that before,” you speculated in a cheery, nonchalant tone, feeling perfectly satisfied after your little stunt driving escapade.

Dean, on the other hand, appeared not unlike a fish out of water with his furrowed brows and pouty lips which appeared undecided as to whether they should remain open or closed.

“That was… I just- You-… I don’t even know…” he ran his hands through his hair, pulling the short strands forward roughly, “What just happened?”

You sent him a small, innocent shrug, rather amused at his adorably stuttery response.

“You never told me you could drive like that.”

“You never asked,” you replied truthfully.

“Fuck, Y/N. That was… so… incredibly…”

What? Your curiosity was killing you. Dean’s opinion always mattered to you and at the moment, you could read a myriad of emotions upon his face. He looked stunned and confused, perhaps a bit frightened, but at the same time awed and impressed, and maybe even – were you reading that right? – slightly… aroused?

Dean lowered his voice to answer your unspoken question, “Hot,” he finished emphatically.

You heaved a breathy laugh, “Yeah?”

“Fuck yes! Baby, that was incredible. The way you handled Baby like a fucking pro, the little faces you made when you were living for the thrill of the chase. The skill, the speed, the Tokyo drifting, all of it. Goddamn, you are so sexy when you’re driving my Baby like that.”

“Well that’s a coincidence ‘cause I also happen to find you amazingly sexy when you’re behind this wheel,” you joked lightly, “In fact, I think seeing you drive this car might’ve been part of the reason I fell in love with you.”

“And I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” came Dean’s suave response.

You giggled a bit, but soon sobered when you saw his gorgeous eyes cloud over with wanton desire. One minute you were dwelling in the heavily charged sexual tension that seemed to consume the entire car, watching his gaze wander down to your lips while yours did the same, and in the next your mouths met ferociously as your bodies swooped forwards simultaneously, crashing together in the center of Baby’s front seat.

You moaned into the kiss, your hands finding their way around Dean’s ridiculously broad shoulders and up to his thick neck. When you were forced to come up for air, his lips began to work their way down to your collar bone. “Mmm, god Dean.”

“Seriously baby, that was such a turn on,” he rambled across your skin, “I didn’t even know driving could be so hot.”

Your laughter was really more just an exhalation of air. “Are we finally gonna do it? Are we gonna christen Baby now, thanks to your newfound kink?” you whispered salaciously, your brain already presenting obscene images of the two of you re-enacting something akin to the infamous Titanic scene.

Dean paused for a moment, allowing you to rip off his outer layers with relish before he brought his large hands up to cup your cheeks. “See I wouldn’t call it ‘newfound’,” he started, dazzling forest orbs boring into your soul, “Cause I’m pretty sure it only turns me on when it’s you behind the wheel, and I’ve always had a kink for you.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to keep the smile off your face, “You are such a smooth fucker sometimes, Dean Winchester.” And with that, your lips and bodies collided yet again. His strong hands held you impossibly close while yours ran joyously across his expansive chest before travelling down to find the zipper of his jeans.

“Ungh, wait a sec,” you pulled back a little with knitted brows, a playfully incredulous tone taking over your voice, “Did you call me Dominic Toretto earlier?”

“Well, yeah. You were driving like a madman!” Dean exclaimed candidly.

You smirked, “So does that make you Letty Ortiz?”

“Sweetheart, I will gladly be the Letty to your Dom anytime you want… I still can’t believe you just took me on a high-speed car chase, that was fucking awesome! Just wait ‘til Sam hears about this one!”

Laughing as you pulled him back in, you shut him up with your tongue as it invaded his mouth, pausing only to smile against his luscious lips, “Mmm, well maybe he doesn’t have to hear about this next part?”

A/N #2: thank you so much for reading, feedback always appreciated! oh and here’s a look at some new stuff at lexicolor.redbubble.com :)

[idesofrevolution]

Okay: Bad Boy Musky Transformation it is. Enjoy!

I knew, of course, that Marco sold whatever the degenerates in the neighborhood needed. Weed, Acid, Ecstasy, Shrooms, Coke... take out the hard ones and you have his menu. He always seemed to afford the good things in life with his dark money. Two weeks ago he’d bought a Ducati; a week prior it was a 60 inch TV! God knows it wasn’t from dutiful employment, but I knew damn well just what it was that afforded him these luxuries: whatever could be inhaled, snorted, or smoked. And yet, here I was, working two jobs at McDonalds & Popeyes just trying to afford my garbage studio apartment. 

He’d only ever been kind to me, I’ll admit. He’d bring by a pizza he said he couldn’t finish, or his old speakers he’d upgraded. Nice guy, if a bit dim. Always out in the courtyard, laying by the pool with his shirt off. Always surrounded by other guys who’d slip him a hundred. It’s not fair! Four years of college and what did I have to show for it? Student loans and no job prospects. Yet there he was: no trade, no job, no future really; but living like a king. So it was one day where I’ll fully admit that my jealousy overwhelmed me. 

I was short that month, for the first time mind you. Short only by a hundred dollars for rent, but I had already gotten a notice on my door. Pay tomorrow or get lost. It was this desperation that made me remember every deal that thug made, every 8-ball, every eighth, every pill... Would he really notice a hundred missing from his pile? I knew for a fact that every Wednesday night, precisely at 10, Marco would leave for the hookah club and not return until 4 or 5 at the earliest. I knew he locked his door, a few locks actually, but I also knew that the moron left his window cracked nearly every night. It just so happened that on that particular evening, he did just that. 

In that fleeting moment of curiosity, a plan built up in my head. I watched him loudly slam his door, lock his several locks, and saunter out down the stairs. I waited about five minutes before creeping out of my apartment, careful to watch for other prying eyes. I had to be quick. I made a run for it, bolting to his open window on the balcony. It slid open quite easily, and I heaved myself over the ledge and into Marco’s dark apartment. I landed on the ratty old carpet and quickly shut the window. Looking around the apartment, it was a three bedroom for sure. In the same state of disrepair as mine, but furnished with some of the most expensive, gaudy things I’ve ever seen. Brand new leather couches, a coffee table made completely of glass, a massive stereo system next to his 60 inch TV... An absolute manchild lived here.

However, I wasn’t there for the TV or the oversized sectional. I had a sneaking suspicion that he, like many of us, kept his extra money somewhere in the bedroom. Ensuring that no noise would come from my steps, I snuck quietly down the hall, covered in paintings of scantily clad men toward the bedroom. Interesting, he swung that way, huh? Opening the door, a wafting stink hit me in the face. The room was covered in dirty laundry, used condoms, half rolled  blunts, and lines of coke on nearly every surface. This is what I was expecting, and I was surely right. Holding my nose shut, I crept toward his dresser, and began to ruffle through his belongings. Damp socks, damp underwear, damp lycra, everything in there was damp and reeking. I slammed each of the drawers shut, and opened the closet. There, on the tile floor behind rows of pristine sneakers were a pair of destroyed old Vans; and inside each were rolls of hundred dollar bills. Jackpot. I knelt down and grabbed one of the rolls, momentarily unclamping my nose to remove the rubber band. The smell was unbelievable. It took me aback, just how strong it was. I’m sure each of the pairs of Huaraches, AF1′s, and the like had strong scents of their own, but from this single pair of beat up old Vans was the most salty, sweet, almost cheesy footmusk that I’d ever encountered.

For a mere second, I contemplated bringing one of the shoes to my face, letting the dirty, wet insole touch the tip of my nose. However, it was in that second that I should have just left well enough alone. The lightswitch flipped on, and looming over me was the hulking, shirtless Marco. In my right hand was his wad of cash, in the left was his grody sneaker. My face flushed, and my stomach dropped to my toes. He crossed his arms and smiled.

“If you wanted a loan you could have just asked...” Words were caught in the back of my throat. I wanted so terribly to make up some fantastic excuse as to my presence in his closet, but the frog in my throat had other ideas. The growing grin of Marco, paired with him beginning to kneel down to my level made my heart nearly stop beating. “And if you wanted a sniff I’d have given it to you.” He smirked and slowly pulled the shoe from my hand, taking a quick whiff of it’s stench. He turned quickly and laughed, waving the wafting scent away from his face before grabbing the back of my head and plunging it right into the shoe. “Okay, deep breath now.”

I tried to struggle, to fight back, but the man was nearly twice my size and pure muscle. There was no chance of me weaseling my way out of this. I had to just play along with this weird fetish that he seemed to have. I inhaled a quick breath, barely getting any stink. 

“No, no. I said deep breath.” I felt a strong hand shoot to my crotch, grabbing my junk within my jeans. The shock of this invasive gesture broke my concentration, and a gasp of breath escaped from my mouth. Into my nose, my mouth, my sinuses, my brain did the musk penetrate. I moaned loudly, the confusion of a powerful grope and a powerful scent submerged me into a strange state of consciousness. Or rather, a lack thereof. I was inhaling the footsmell like air, and I couldn’t get enough. My cock began to tent in my pants, and I felt my right hand drop the roll of cash I thought I so desperately needed. “Ahh, haha. That’s right, let it in. Let me in.” 

His voice seemed distorted, as if we were in a deep cavern, it echoed in my skull. He removed the shoe from my face, pulling me to my feet by my bulging groin. Guiding me toward his bed, I sat down on the smelly sheets, no longer in complete control of my faculties.

“Take your clothes off.” His words entered my ears like soft velvet, it felt wrong to disobey. In fact, I wanted to obey. For the first time, I wanted to listen to whatever this man told me to do. His bulging muscles, his plump lips, the way his crooked smile felt so dangerously mischievous, the way his smell took my breath away like a vacuum. For the first time, this man was everything I wanted. I ripped my clothes off and lay there on his bed wearing nothing but my bare, cold skin. Smiling, he took hold of my throbbing, upright cock in his rough hand. Ripples of goosebumps ran up and down my body as he slowly ran his calloused hand up and down my shaft. Each stroke allowed a groan or a moan to sneak out of my lips, before he leaned down atop me and planted a soft kiss onto my lips. He tasted like an ashtray and as his tongue slipped into my mouth, rolling atop my own, I could feel some of his taste transfer to me. I can’t explain it, as we kissed I could feel that taste of cigarettes and blunts seep into my tongue. I pulled his pants down, his thick, uncut cock tumbling out of his compression shorts onto my stomach. He smiled as he pulled away from the kiss. I stuck my finger under his foreskin, swiping it around, and brought it to my lips. It tasted like ripe, sweaty cock, and I began to crave it. “Oh yeah, babe you’re a keeper.”

He jumped up, and pulled me toward the edge of the bed. I got a perfect frontal view of his gorgeous cock and saggy balls, his virile and manly smell kept pouring into my nose and into the depths of my mind. He grabbed me by the back of my hair and pulled my eager mouth forward, engulfing his slick, smelly cock. I suckled, my loud slurping seeming making him even hornier. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him fiddling with something just out of view. As he thrust down my throat, I realized just what it was that he had. His used condom, I presume from whatever sexy fuck occurred the night prior, was in his hands. I closed my eyes as I felt its rubbery walls close tightly around the tip of my cock, slickly sliding down my shaft until his cold, creamy load touched my slit. With a loud snap, I looked down and saw his thick white cum completely enveloping my cockhead. I only got a quick glance before he’d pulled out of my mouth, replacing his succulent cock with my now favorite smelly shoe. I licked the sole, letting the thick toejam season my ashy tongue as the musk thrust into my nose once more. 

I knew what was coming, and I was prepared when I felt that slippery cock slip like butter into my tight hole. He’d grabbed my cock, covered in his seed, and jerked in tandem with his thrusts into my ass. Sensory overload. His smell, his seed, his cock, his taste, the very sight of him... It was all him. He was marking me. I was his property, and I was glad to oblige. Every single hard smack against my ass cheeks, every stinking waft into my brain, every breath of his smoky breath coming out of my mouth... It was too much! He fucked like a madman, stroking my cock into his slime until I felt a strange tingling in my cockhead. It was a slick, penetrating sensation of his seed... slurping into my slit! I was nearly screaming as I felt it sink deep down my shaft, into my engorging balls. It was stewing, brewing inside my growing sack! I heard him howl as he unloaded his fresher load into me. 

I felt his cock within me shooting spurt after spurt... going from ounces to gallons very quickly. His cum spread throughout my body like water into a balloon. I could feel the silky liquid beneath my skin, creeping, inflating every part of my body. It seeped up my throat, into my mouth, behind my very eyes into my brain. The pressure grew as I felt growth, I felt strength, I felt different. My body was gelatinous beneath my skin, before slowly firming into a much larger form. An improved form. I pulled Marco’s shoe from my face, and looked at my changing body. The cum kept flowing as I saw my muscled arms, my bulging abs, a grotesquely inflated ballsack... He leaned down and kissed me again, giving me another much needed taste of his addictive taste. My brain was melting, reforming, changing... Things were fuzzy and blurred before it was my turn to blow my load. In it, was who I used to be, my failures, my strife, my worries and obligations... Flowed like a jet out of my cock into his condom. Cum flowed out of the top of the condom, before Marco ripped it from me, letting the hot juices pool between us. 

“Lookin’ good, babe.” He smiled at me, and I looked at the man I loved with a smirk. Yeah, I sure fuckin’ do look good. We laid there all night long, fucking and kissing and sniffing and tasting... By the time the sun came up, I was in his clothes, I reeked of his sweaty manly musk, I was wearing my favorite pair of red Vans, and I was readying an 8-ball for pickup later that morning (after a few lines for me and the boyfriend). I kicked back and lit a cigarette, enjoying the laid back life I’d come to love with my man.

It’s a love story. How touching. So let me know what you think. Give me some anons on your opinions! Also, toss a few quid into the tip jar and I’d be eternally grateful <3 <3

[chenziee]

At the bottom of the sea, chapter 1

I asked before how many Lawlu outsider POV fics are too many and then didn’t wait for an answer. Sorry, Kid, but you knew your turn would come eventually :)

Summary: Kid never would have believed there was a person crazy  enough to actually mate with Straw Hat Luffy, the biggest, most selfish  idiot on the seas. But seeing as the mating mark on said idiot's neck  was very real, Kid had only one question:Who the hell is Torao?

[READ ON AO3 or below the cut]

Part 3 of Until We Drown verse

[Part 1 | Part 2]

----------

When Kid had first noticed the scar on Straw Hat's neck, he had assumed it was simply yet another injury from his fight with Kaido. After all, when they had first tossed him in the cell with him, he was covered head to toe in bandages, the blood still seeping through in several places. It wouldn't have been so weird for him to have a wound or twenty still visible a week later.

But when all his other injuries disappeared only a few days later, leaving behind the one single, comparatively minor scar, Kid couldn’t stop wondering about it.

Every time the reddish patch of skin caught his attention, his eyes would linger on it, trying to figure out just why. Was it poison? Something to prevent the skin from mending fully? He’d really rather know if there was someone with a power like that among the Beast Pirates before he went back to kick Kaido’s ass. Would make recovery a real bitch.

It didn’t seem to bother Straw Hat much, if at all, however. Most of the time, he went on on his infuriating way of picking fights with Kid over the smallest things as if nothing was wrong so Kid supposed it was nothing for him to lose sleep over.

Yet, there was something that didn’t let Kid completely forget about it. Every single day in the evening, when all the prisoners were sent back to their cells and there was nothing to do, Straw Hat would inevitably end up with his hand on his neck, tracing the scar with his fingers with a complicated expression on his face. Kid would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious as hell.  

But he’d be damned if he actually asked so he simply resorted to showing slight concern over his rival's injury. Meaning, he teased Straw Hat mercilessly, riling him up as much as he could during their little competitions.

What could he say, the kid was infuriating and it wasn’t like he didn’t do the same thing to him.

Kid couldn’t wait for the day Kaido was out of the way, so he would be able to fucking show Straw Hat who was stonger, faster, better, and teach him and everyone else that a missing arm was nothing; not with Kid’s power and his crew by his side. But currently, the Emperor was the thing on the very top of Kid’s shit list so Straw Hat was safe. For now.

Unless his stupid charity would get him before Kid could. That would be a damn shame.

Kid rolled his eyes as he watched Straw Hat give a bunch of his meal tickets to the tiny, withered old man again. Seriously, what was Straw Hat’s deal? Did he not get the memo that pirates did not do charity? It was kill or be killed, in labour camps especially.

But Straw Hat didn’t seem to care how much of a joke he was as a pirate. And obviously, neither did the old man.

“Thank you once again, Straw Hat man,” the old man said, accepting the tickets gratefully.

Straw Hat grinned. “Don’t worry about it, gramps. I’ll get lots more.” As if to prove his point, Straw Hat flexed his arm, causing Kid to roll his eyes once more.

But not before taking note of how many tickets Straw Hat had in his hands and how many he gave to the old man, and comparing them to the amount he himself had amassed during the day. Kid smirked. He was pretty confident he won. Just as he did every day.

"Are they okay?" the old man asked then, voice full of concern.

"What?" Straw Hat sounded painfully confused as he replied.

The old man huffed, gesturing to where Straw Hat was once more absent-mindedly massaging his neck. "Your mate. You keep touching your mark. Are they okay?"

Kid did a double take.

Straw Hat. A mate. Straw Hat had a mate. That was what the weird scar on his neck was.

He mentally berated himself for not realizing sooner but honestly, who would ever look at Straw Hat and think, ‘Oh yeah, he's mated.’ No one sane, that's for damn sure.

"Oh," Straw Hat uttered simply before going silent for a moment again. But then his face split in that idiotic, bright grin again. "It’s just itchy. It’s fine, Torao’s strong.”

The old man didn’t look convinced but it was obvious he didn’t want to push it either. It took only a second for him to sigh, shake his head, and change the subject. Probably because he knew that even if there was something wrong with this ‘Torao,’ there was nothing Straw Hat—or anyone else in this goddamned prisoner mine—could do about it.

If Kid cared about his problems at all, he’d say it was a good thing Straw Hat was such an air headed moron. If he had any more brain cells in that head of his, he’d probably go crazy in here, literally climbing walls, trying to get to his mate. This blind trust he seemed to have in people was saving him a lot of energy—while sadly robbing Kid of entertainment. It would have been pretty damn funny watch, whether it be Straw Hat losing his mind, or the guards losing their minds over Straw Hat going on a rampage but oh well.

He’d have to make do with their little fights.

Kid did have to wonder what kind of person this Torao was, however. He didn't recall anyone called that on Straw Hat’s crew, nor did he know of anyone else by that name. Kid wanted to meet them, see what kind of person was stupid enough to bond with Straw Hat of all people; willing to deal with his insufferable idiocy and selfishness for the rest of their lives. At the very least, he'd have liked to give them his condolences.

He was… intrigued by this development. But he wasn't desperate enough for answers to actively eavesdrop, and definitely not enough to ask.  

He'd rather stay locked in this damned labour camp than do that.

But seriously, he had better things to worry about—his escape for one, then it was looking for Killer and the rest of his crew. Then it was off to beat up Kaido.

And if he knew anything about Straw Hat, he wasn't about to stick around the mine much longer either. Then he'd pick up his cozy little alliance with Trafalgar Law of all people and go after Kaido, same as Kid. So, if this mate of his was in Wano, Kid was sure it was only a matter of time before he met them for himself.

Kid hoped they wouldn’t cry once he had Straw Hat beaten. He hated it when people cried. It was so very annoying.

No, Killer, it wasn’t because seeing people cry made him want to cry, too.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the image of Killer giving him his best unimpressed look, Kid got up from the dusty ground, shooting one last glance at Straw Hat before he walked away. Having a mate didn’t matter in the end at all. What mattered was strength, power, loyalty, and only trusting the people closest to you.

Everyone else could get fucked. Especially your ‘allies.’ He was sure Straw Hat would learn that the hard way with Trafalgar, just as Kid had with Hawkins and fucking Scratchmen. Straw Hat could only hope that mistake didn’t cost him his mate, the most obvious weak spot.

Kid, for one, was done risking his partner. Done with alliances.

----------

That was what he had thought at least but of course Killer had to be the voice of reason and insist that if they were to go against Kaido, they'd better wait to join in the large-scale raid the Straw Hats had planned. Or that Trafalgar had planned, more likely. It was stupid and Kid din't want to get involved in anything where those two played a part but he could never win against his first mate and Killer knew it. Asshole.

"So you showed up after all, Jaggy?!" Straw Hat called, sounding way too happy and excited considering the situation.

"Like I'd let you have the glory for taking down Kaido!" Kid shouted back, clicking his tongue in distaste at the very notion.

Just then, someone from the Straw Hat ship spoke up, tone a mix of relief and exasperation, "Luffy, look, Torao's here! You can stop fidgeting now!"

At that, Straw Hat whipped around, making a full circle and looking like an idiot as he searched for something through the heavy storm. The 'Torao', most likely. The mate.

Kid had nearly forgotten about that. But now that the person was there themselves, his previous curiosity came back. Instead of focusing on the enemy ships ahead, he continued watching his fellow captain as he took off to run to the other end of the ship, no doubt to get a better view of the sea in the back. Kid winced when after only a two steps, Roronoa grabbed Straw Hat's collar, making the rubber man's head jerk forward from the momentum, going further from his shoulders than should be humanly possible.

Seriously, Straw Hat and his weird powers.

Shaking his head, Kid focused back on where Roronoa was dragging his own captain towards the side of the ship, pointing him towards something below, in the water. Kid's eyes inadvertently followed in the direction as well until they found Trafalgar's submarine with the pathetic samurai boat perched on top. Was this Torao one of the samurai? Would explain why Kid had never heard of them.

"TORAO! HI!" Straw Hat screamed immediately, waving his hands widely to get the person's attention.

The crashing waves and heavy rain were his only response but Straw Hat didn't seem dettered in the least. Instead, his screaming continued, "Where were you?! I was looking for you but your friends refused to say!"

"Focus on the mission, Straw Hat-ya!" Trafalgar finally snapped with annoyance.

Probably not what or whom Straw Hat wanted to hear but on the other hand, Kid was glad Trafgar hadn't gone completely crazy yet. Even though Kid had to admit he didn't have much room to talk with picking allies, he had his doubts about Trafalgar’s sanity from the moment he heard he had allied with Straw Hat of all people.

Not to mention how long the two had been working together at this point. If Trafalgar wasn't insane before, he had to be by now by association alone. But it was comforting to know he still had it in himself to rein the biggest idiot on the entire Grand Line in.

“Also I’d hate to rub salt in the wound, but today’s banquet will celebrate the official alliance between the Beast Pirates and the Big Mom Pirates!” At the taunting remark from one of the Beast pirates, Kid whipped around, immediately forgetting about Trafalgar, Straw Hat, and the mystery mate.

“Big Mom and Kaido?!!” You’ve got to be kidding. Just one of them was bad enough, an alliance between two Emperors just as they were getting ready to attack was nothing but bad news. Not like it would change the result, Kid was going to beat them both regardless, but it was complicating matters considerably.

“In the name of Emperor Kaido, get this over with and sink them!”

Kid rolled his eyes at how confident these small fries were just because they had Kaido and Big Mom backing them up. As if they would save them from getting beaten up from all the way over at Onigashima.

Raising his fists, flesh and metal, he aimed at the enemy ship, readying himself to haul himself over to show his idiot ‘allies’ how it’s done.

“Why are these underlings getting so cocky!! They’re looking down on us, stand back!!!”

“Idiot, you’re the one who should stand back!!”

Oh no, you don’t, Kid thought. “Don’t get in my way!!!”

----------

“Torao! That power's cheating!”

“Oh, Torao, where did you go?”

“Torao, move the samurai below!”

“Torao, did you guys beat Big Mom?!”

“To-ra-ooo!!”

Remembering all the times that Straw Hat had called his ‘Torao’ over the course of the night, Kid was almost embarrassed that it took him until now to connect the dots. In his defense, it was the heat of the battle and there were a lot bigger things to worry about than Straw Hat and Torao’s love life and honestly, Kid didn’t even really care in the first place. But he would have certainly appreciated a heads up before this.  

Upon hearing that Straw Hat was finally awake after passing out from exhaustion, Killer had insisted that checking up on him was the least Kid should do. So, despite his better judgement, Kid had complied and really, this might have had just been the worst advice his first mate had ever given him and that was including the stupid alliance with Hawkins and Apoo.

As he stared with wide eyes at the scene before him, he suddenly understood why all the idiot friends of Straw Hat’s were scrambling off as if running from something, even going as far as dragging a protesting, confused son of Kaido away by force. Seriously, if Kid wasn’t rooted in place as he was, he, too, would have been running from the smell of possessive pheromones and the loopy, content grin on Straw Hat’s face while Trafalgar fucking Law had his face burried in the crook of his neck, his teeth sinking deep into the flesh where Straw Hat’s mating mark was.

Honestly, Kid would rather walk in on them fucking than… this.  

“It’s okay, Torao. I’m fine,” Straw Hat said quietly, raising one shaky hand to weakly run his fingers through Trafalgar’s hair.

“When will you stop being so damn reckless? I swear one day I’ll kill you myself,” Trafalgar growled back after a moment, once he finally released his bite.

Straw Hat snickered. “Eh, better you than stupid Kaido.”

Trafalgar groaned in response, frustration with his mate obvious even while his head was still resting against Straw Hat’s shoulder. “Fuck you.”

“No thanks,” Straw Hat laughed, making Trafalgar click his tongue in annoyance.

“You know what I mean,” he snapped, making Straw Hat only laugh harder.

Kid wasn’t entirely sure what this last exchange meant but he sure as hell didn’t need or care to know. Finally breaking himself out of his stupor, he quickly slammed the sliding doors shut once more, then turned on his heel to leave as fast as he could.

As he stormed away, a few last words carried over to him from Straw Hat’s room.

“Jaggy just left,” Straw Hat noted off-handedly.

Trafalgar sighed in response. “Fucking finally.”

Assholes.  

Kid all but ran outside then, heading straight for the nearest drinks table and grabbing for the first bottle of hard liquor he could find. He could only hope that would be enough to bleach his entire brain.

[power-of-plot]

Pool day! Hcs.

I just realized i haven't been in a pool for over a damn year and a half .-. ... does this count as a spoiler? Bakugou is "developed" (his character) here. Also, i've written for him before but this ma first time posting it, tell me watcha think.

Warnings: Some cursing.

B A K U G O U

It takes you some convicing from you first since this type of activites just don't fit him that well, water is all happines and relaxation, he is living dynamite, or he used to be.

When he's "forced" to do some childish shit in a pool and sees there's no way of declining he lets out a somewhat exasperated sigh before giving green lights "Fine but next time i choose what we're gonna do , deal?"

Despite this not being his favorite, he's "angrily" joyful inside since whatever you do you'll spend time together, that's more than worth enough to bear anything for. 

He makes sure you got all you need like towels, goggles (wich he’d never use because ‘it looks fucking weird and his eyes are not going to fall off because of some water’) etc, don't mock him or call him a mom when he forces you to put on sunscreen before going into the pool or while he's applying it on your back.

When you give him a hand to put it on his back, he's surprinsigly calm, he even tells you his preferences in his own way. "Don't turn my back into a slice of bread with cream cheese. Done? Uh thanks.. i'm not blushing it's the fucking sun! THIS DAMN SUNSCREEN IS NOT WORKING."

He would ask if you know how to swim just in case before you go into the pool, how he acts around depends in your answer.

If you don't know how to (kinda my case) you're not going past the limit into the deep part unless he's strictly right next to you OR you have a donut floatie or a pool noodle, anything that doesn't depend on balance, he is not taking the risk of you falling off. "Do you rather being an embarrased 'little kid' or a drowned grown up?"

If you somehow slipped or went into the deep part.. the moment he hears water sloshing then sees you struggling to not sink, oh lord, he's gonna YEET himself right in propulsing with one almost-full power explosion, he doesn't give a fuck if it leaves a big black burn mark on the ground.

He's relaxed if you do know how to swim. He can drag you along if you push him into the pool or drop you in from his arms, you'd also play waterpolo or voleyball.

"DIE!" He had to pay in a public pool for a broken ball after one of his explosions turned it into pieces of rubber scattered all over the water. That’s just one of the times he literally exploded, the most remarkable would be when someone didn’t know where their eyes were looking and he casually scared them off.

He marks his territory. While chilling he'd either have an arm wrapped around you or have you resting on his lap with his hand holding yours, although not with the same potency due to the water the caramel-like scent of his sweat would still emanate from him.

If he's in a very good mood or you just have a way with words there's a chance you could end up "cuddling" in there. Him floating and you simply resting on his torso, clinging onto each other so you don't float apart. 

M I D O R I Y A

Give this dude an award for being the broccoli none of us would want to avoid, he gladly accepts when you suggest having a pool day! He’s fine with whatever you come up with, it means you’ll do something together, double win :D

He asks beforehand if you do know how to swim to know whether he should bring a floatie or not besides pool noodles because he likes them, he also brings a small extra sunscreen just in case you forget yours, when it comes to him reminding you to put it on he asks like a mom making sure you have seatbealt on “Wait, sunscreen?”

When he feels your hand touching his back he inmediately breathes in through his nose and tenses up, but when he turn around he has that adorable smile of shyness and a rosy color on his cheeks “T-thank you! I’m so sorry, i’m sort of shy!”

Izuku is a toe dipper you can’t change my mind! He holds out his leg then quickly dips his toe in to check the water temperature before slowly going in, if you don’t push him first, if you did, his face of feeling betrayal while having a coughing fit would be priceless

He’s alert if you get near the deep side and he’s not that close, another guy who would yeet right in if you don’t know how to swim, OFA enhaces his physical strenght, add the adrenaline of the moment, he could pull you out the water with one single arm.

He’s not rough at all, he wouldn’t push or drop you into the pool (unless you were the kind who likes it or asked him to), more like jump in with you, you’d definitely jump in holding hands or with you in his arms. He’d also have you on his shoulders or his back.

He looks like seaweed when he’s underwater.

You’d have a watergun fight! Believe me when i say he’s the personification of Terminator with that thing on his hands, he’s going to exterminate you until he has to re-fill his gun.

He’s alert on public pools, he’s not jealous he trusts you but he doesn’t like the idea of someone making you uncomfortable or looking at you on inproper ways. He’s rather affectionate than territorial, he’d put his arms over your shoulders and rest his head on the crook of your neck, you’d get some small pecks here and there.

When it’s time, he gets out the pool first so you don’t go through cold, he receives you with your towel open in his arms to wrap around you to your neck with a soft smile. 

T O D O R O K I

Another guy who’d be fine with whatever you like, you could invite him to sky dive and he’d be there falling limpily, holding your hand with a straight face despite he’s falling from dangerous heights.

You’re not going to a public pool on his guard, he’s going to use his father’s credit card to go into a private place, probably with a rooftop or an oversized pool where you can swim freely.

With his childhood privated from many pleasures it’s unlikely he has any floaties so he has to buy some, he buys a donut and a noodle, he likes to relax and float better than swimming around, as for you, he wants you to have freedom to swim around.

We saw him using no more than swim trunks while training at the pool in U.A but he seems like the kind who would wear something on top as well, like a short sleeved swimming t-shirt.

Even before learning to be okay with his left side he never minded the water temperature that much, he simply goes in with a small jump. Now the fun part is: you can ask him to warm the water up to your content, he’d hold you close while he’s irradiating heat, pretty relaxing if you ask me

(bruh that sounds good should i write a drabble about that? anon or not tell me lmao)

If you start drowning.. freaking Elsa from Frozen is coming to the rescue, he’s going to rush at you like that scene where she fleed from a castle by freezing her way through a river.

He’d create large water slides with his ice and again, have a straight face while he’s going down at great speeds, if you were not there that is, seeing just how happy he can make someone with his quirk and his mere prescence.. a genuine bright smile appears on his face.

If you pushed him into the pool he’d turn around and stare at you with an unreadable glance, as if saying “why?” with his eyes, he needs a hug! Would never drop or push you in, even when you ask him he’d use moderate strength, he rathers having you cling onto him resting over his back.

It’s just wholesome when he’s relaxing  on his donut and your next to him holding his hand or when he sitting on a stair of the pool with you resting on his shoulder, there are no words but you both enjoy it.

He doesn’t bring you your towel, he brings you to the towel. He carries you in his arms keeping you warm with his left side as he walks towards your stuff, he can hug you too so the towel doesn’t let any cold in.

What’s this, two post in the same week?! let’s see how much i can post in this week, i might post for AOT next :).

[heyitsyn]

Keeping Up With Seijoh Ep. 3

a/n: uwuwuwuwu this is an au since yanno,,,, they didnt really make it to nationals :(

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN!

anon:

may i request a scenario where seijoh made it to nationals and atsumu flirts with reader🥺

CAN WE BLS STOP THIS SANGWOO/ATSUMU TYPA BEAT BC I HONESTLY DONT VIBE W IT AND IT LOWKEY SCARES ME A LITTLE :o

OMLOMLOML YALL MADE IT TO NATIONALS

to be honest, it was,,, unexpected

you were sitting there, on the bench and gripping it in anticipation as seijoh and shiratorizawa were once again at a match point thanks to kyotani’s angry spike

going past 31, they were now 31-30 with seijoh in the lead

you could tell ushijima was getting antsy despite him covering it up and encouraging his team with a one-liner

your own team was buzzing with both nervousness and hope and iwaizumi was clenching and unclenching his fists in anticipation for the last toss

when the ball went up, oikawa’s eyes flashed, arms moving to set and the red-haired spiky guy was now watching which spiker he was going to give it to

however

he tossed it to no one

instead, oikawa’s hand flicked and he dumped the ball

it was like in slow motion and as shiratorizawa’s players scrambled to the floor, 

it was too late

the ball bounced on yellow polished floor before rolling away, completely unaware of what just happened and the lives it just changed

your mouth hung open, eyes trailing after the rubber ball like every single people in the gym

then it finally hit you

‘YOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

a scream from iwaizumi lit the candle of happiness and you didnt even care, running out to the court to jump on your captain, tears flowing down his face and his arms squeezing you tightly against his chest

‘AKLDFJJSHKFEOIOWIHFSKESIFOEWIHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

it was all a jumbled noise from everyone, your team, your coaches, the fans in the stand, and even from that orange boy and his team

the boys were hugging each other and crying and sobbing but oikawa’s hold remained on you, your own tears mixing with his sweat and coating his neck

‘you did it, oikawa-san. you did it’

you whimpered and he laughed and you felt him nodding

‘we’re going to tokyo. nationals!’

he choked out 

‘OIKAWA!’

the entire gym rumbled and you basked in the joy that the entire team radiated before having to stand with the coaches so they could shake hands with shiratorizawa for a good game

the locker room was loud, even much louder than the gym, with kindaichi’s loud sobbing and mattsuhana’s loud celebratory singing and iwaizumi’s joking shouts and eventually joining in

iwaizumi held his arms out for you and you giggled, crashing straight into him

you wiped his sweat filled face and he sat down on the bench, with you standing between his legs and his large hands gripping your waist

‘it’s not a dream, right?’

he whispered, eyes closed at the gentle feeling of you caressing his face

‘no, iwa-san. nationals is ours’

you soothed and he let out another loud laugh before pulling you close and burying his face in your stomach, probably crying again but this time, out of joy

for years theyve tried

and now, they succeeded

well,,, nationals should be a good thing, right?

hmm,,, maybe the honor of going

but the other players??

oh god

it was obvious when miyagi’s representative entered through those doors and eyes immediately went to their manager

it wasnt like you were the only female manager but you were an unfamiliar team so you have never been seen before

uwu youre so pretty like bow down to the goddess

oikawa’s hold on your hand was tight and his eyes flitted to everyone who looked at them, as if signalling them to back off and you were his

‘wahh, oikawa-san! kageyama told me that the best of the best are in here! he told me to look for fukurodani and nekoma!’

seijoh’s eye twitched at the mention of your new-found friend who you’ve been texting back and forth and him secretly teaching you everything about volleyball since your own team has been too busy preparing for nationals

they watched you try and stand in your tippy toes to find the apparent red and black jerseys and the black, white and gold jerseys

hmm,,,, it seems everyone had the same colors

‘ne, y/n-chan, you trust our team, don’t you? if anything, we’re part of the best of the best! you got the best setter right here!’

oikawa grinned but you nodded distractedly

‘come on, we got to go unpack and train’

iwaizumi nudged so you had to stop looking and you followed your captain, who still held your hand

but this is a typical fanfiction ladies and gents

as you were walking towards the locker room, there was a team that wore maroon colored jackets and were walking towards you

again, this is seijoh’s very first nationals so nobody really knew of them

they were more familiar of the white and purple jackets of shiratorizawa rather than the mint green and white of seijoh

however, oikawa seemed to know them

‘ah’

he whispered out, making you look up at him but his sights were straight towards them, a hard and cold look

‘ara? fresh blood?’

you cringed at the weird analogy and the guy with the black tips, who you infered to be the captain, elbowed him

 ‘excuse us’

he nodded in greeting and you noticed the guy with the bleach hair and you did a double-take, blinking rapidly

‘oh sangwoo?’

KSLDFJKDLFJSLDK KILL ME ALREADY

watari coughed, knowing exactly what you meant and it seems nobody else did except for the sangwoo look-a-like

and he raised an eyebrow in interest

‘hm? you called?’

another guy with gray hair, who looked exactly like him, rolled his eyes and he pulled him forward to walk after their captain

but he didnt let off yet

as he passed you by, he leaned close, breath fanning your ear

‘but its miya atsumu, baby girl’

ON GOD I WANT TO COMMIT WITH HOW GROSS HE IS LIKE BLS

kyo, who was behind you, growled at him and pulled you behind himself

‘she has name, fcker’

atsumu faked a surprise and backed away with his hands up

‘alrighty, then. didnt know you had a bodyguard, girlie. but maybe,, later on, we could get to know each other. alone’

YALL THIS IS GOING TO GET BETTER LATER I PROMISE HES NOT A WEIRDO PERVERT AS HE SOUNDS

osamu was annoyed and dragged him away, leaving you with your team, who were also extremely pissed off, especially oikawa

‘heh, the best setter in the country and yet he acts like a horny dog’

oikawa seethed, a pointy smile etched on his face

‘eh? best setter?’

you wondered but not given an answer because your captain would be damned if that atsumu decided to show up again

the locker room was actually the same back home

but kindaichi was sobbing again

‘t-this room! the best of the best! i cant-too much-’

you were busy hugging him and wiping his tears to notice the third years huddling over by the corner

oikawa was sitting on the bench while iwaizumi was changing into his practice jersey and the other two were flanked beside the captain

‘of course theyve got their eye on her now’

oikawa mumbled, fingers laced together and touching his lips

‘what can you expect? y/n-chan is an extremely pretty girl’

mattsun shrugged

‘but ugh, if i see that cheese face again,, i will fight’

iwa threatened, angrily slipping his arms through the holes

‘he reeked nasty! gross!’

makki agreed

‘so we’re agreeing to keep her in our sights right?’

they agreed to oikawa’s question and were going to stick by that word

but,,,,

what can you expect from star-struck players?

maybe its because theyve worked for so long to reach this point that the fact that they’re even standing in the tokyo stadium felt like a dream

‘guys, i need to go and fill the bottles really quick’

they mumbled distracted agreements so you sighed and lugged the crate of bottles

thank god there was a fountain nearby and as you were capping the last one, a familiar voice rang from behind you

‘oh? baby girl?’

you flinched at the weird nickname and thought that if you stayed quiet, hed leave

‘chibi? hey?’

he asked and made his way to your side, you closing your eyes and looking off to the side

atsumu thought you were interesting, not like every girl who would spread their legs at him and press up to him

the fact that you even AVOIDED looking at him was so foreign to him and your dismissive attitude made him so drawn to you

‘look, im sorry if i made ya uncomfortable earlier’

he,,, apologized?

but you didnt know who he was so you didnt know how out of character it was for him to even say ‘sorry’

'miya-san, hello’

you mumbled, eyes now opened but still focused on the bottle you gripped

he cracked a smile and was he,,,, nervous?

usually, hed say something dumb or sarcastic to cut the tension, but it was like he was even,,, careful,,, with what he wanted to say next

‘how-um-you like it ‘ere?’

if osamu was to see him now, he’d think his brother was kidnapped by those aliens oikawa swore up and down were real and was replaced by some opposite dimension version of atsumu

you gulped, mustering up a small smile before turning to look at him

‘miya-san, dont take offense to this, but just know i have a very loud voice and i can lift 80 pounds. and im the first one to ever beat iwa-san in an arm-wrestling match’

you puffed your cheeks in intimidation with your eyebrows furrowed but accidentally looking more cute rather than scary

were you,,, threatening him?

atsumu paused for a second to assess the situation and really understand the underlying meaning of your words

then he laughed

a real hearty laugh that made him go for a whole minute

‘-ahahaha!! whew, chibi-chan, ya’r a rare one’

wait i dont know how to type you’re with an accent !!!!!

he let out a few more chuckles then wiped a tear that fell

you just stood there 🧍‍♀️ 

‘you think its funny, miya-san? yahaba-kun and i also have a supernatural telepathy phenomenon-’

‘chibi-chan, i swear i wont hurt ya’

he promised but you backed your face away, an eyebrow raised

‘thats what they all say. if anything, youre scaring me more so i’ll-’

‘wait’

he held out a hand out but he quickly curled it, pulling it back to his chest

‘i,,,, listen i know how basic this may sound but,,,, youre the first to ever be like this to me’

you rolled your eyes

‘you think i havent heard that before? i have oikawa-san in my team, for god’s sake! ‘youre one of a kind’ ‘youre not like other girls’ yadda yadda’ try harder, miya-san’

you tilted your head with a crooked smile 

were you,,, playing hard to get?!

atsumu’s eyes shined, wanting to finally do the chasing rather than being chased

‘well, first off, chibi-chan, i need to know your name’

he leaned forward with his hands buried deep inside his maroon jacket pocket

‘my name? what good will that do? you already call me something else dont you? a name is meant to help people call each other and youve been calling me ‘chibi’ so what’s the point of giving you my birth name?’

even with a straight face, atsumu right away knew of your teasing as your eyes were shining brightly and had a hint of amusement in them

oh my god hes in love with you

he was in disbelief of your attitude towards him so he nodded slowly and laughed again

‘what can i do to earn that name then, chibi-chan?’

ehehehe kuroo,,,,, im in danger

you crossed your arms and pouted, leaning forward

‘ehh? why do you want it so bad? do you call others ‘chibi’ too?’

your expression of suspicion was so adorable that he couldnt stop himself from lunging forward and squeezing your cheeks between his fingers

‘so cute. youre my only chibi, chibi-chan’

you hummed, swiftly wiping his touch away from you

‘doubt it. ive only met you today and you’re already acting like this. what makes you think i think youre genuinely interested in me, miya-san?’

‘fate?’

this time, you chuckled, head leaning down

and as you looked back up, your heart stopped

by the distance, there was a familiar-looking haired boy with golden eyes and an also familiar black hair and steel blue eyes

oh dear

your emotions went sour but you saw the black and white-haired male laugh and the steel eyed male shake his head in disapproval but had the hint of the smallest smile

they,, were now happy

‘fate, you say’

you mumbled distractedly

‘fate instilled magnets in us so i just cant help but be drawn to ya’

atsumu grinned but you averted your eyes to look at him, a soft and genuinely happy look

‘would those magnets be strong enough to draw us together, even if we were in another life? if we were fated, would we meet again?’

you looked up at him, your eyes still glistening but this time, with the slightest bit of hope

atsumu sent you a confused glance but he still shrugged

‘i guess so, if i’m so drawn to you right now. maybe in our past life we were,,, together?’

he tested out, expecting you to roll your eyes and walk away but you laughed

‘well, i just witnessed it happening so maybe its possible?’

you wondered out loud

atsumu blinked again, getting more and more interested in you

‘chibi-chan?’

he asked you and you jumped slightly to look at him with a smile

‘say, miya-san, what if i told you that i remember my past life? and what would you say if i told you that you were in it?’

you grinned but atsumu scrunched his face together before smiling

‘hmm, i dont know what youre sayin but it proves my point!’

he exclaimed but you cocked an eyebrow, a sad smile resting on your lips

‘now what would you say if i told you that you were my nurse?’

a/n: omg i actually hate how this turned out like bls blast me on this

a/n pt 2: during my break, i actually re-read ‘in another life’ and i wrote this up after i finished it again and can i just say? I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CREDITS TO LITTLELUXRAY ON AO3

a/n pt 3: hewwo im back again and since no one replied with a link, i can,,, guess??,,, that the book is gone??? or taken down?? but anyways, i just really wanted to post something and tbh, stuff like this cant be helped but i really do hope that it’s gone and if its not, dkasjdfkslf again send me the link

[mlmdarkfiction]

For @pickingpixel

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Ship: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Male Reader

AU: Fantasy, Monsters (Dimitri is a slime boy)

Content Warnings: NSFW, Spoilers for the End of the Blue Lions route (kind of)

Read Below:

“We’re going now,” Your father had told you that morning as you sat at the table, still eating your breakfast. 

“Try to stay out of trouble while we’re gone.”

You had just nodded. This was the regular after all. Although you were rather young to be left alone, only ten years old, your parents had to work, and living so far in the forest, away from the town, only meant longer times being away. 

Longer times that you were left by yourself. 

“Stay in the house,” Your mother had mused, fussing with your hair and planting a kiss on your forehead before finally heading to the door. 

“It’s too dangerous for you to be outside on your own.”

“Yes mother.” 

You had agreed…

But that was over three hours ago, and now you were bored. 

It was hard to find things to do indoors to keep yourself occupied. 

Well, it was hard to find things indoors to keep yourself occupied that wouldn’t cause trouble. 

One time you’d decided to try playing ball in the house, only to accidentally shatter one of your mothers vases. Your father had grounded you for a week, although that meant very little when you already weren’t allowed outside most of the time, and you had no friends. The punishment was more of a formality than an actual deterrent but the lecture he’d given was more than enough in and of itself to leave you thinking twice about playing ball again. 

Another time when you were much younger and had been left alone, you’d drawn all over the floors and walls of your bedroom, making your mother furious. 

Those times had all been accidents. And even now you’re afraid of accidentally creating another accident that will get you into trouble. 

Still it’s a nice day outside. 

You can see the outside from the window, and the sun is out, not a single cloud in the sky. 

The outside is just tempting you. 

There’s still a few hours before your parents get home, meaning there’s no reason you can’t go outside and play for a bit and go back inside before your parents get home. 

And it can’t be as dangerous as your parents say, after all, you’ve been outside plenty of times before. 

It’s just that usually you have parental supervision. 

As long as you stay in the yard nothing bad will happen, right?

You’ve already convinced yourself, so there’s no going back, after all even if you play inside you still may make a mistake and get in trouble. 

You grab your ball, and slip on your shoes before stepping out into the sunlight for the first time today. 

But you hesitate at first, eyes tightly shut, waiting to get in trouble for coming outside when your parents had so firmly told you not to. 

No yelling comes, because deep down you know they won’t be home till much later, and so you find yourself able to relax, knowing you won’t be caught. 

And now that you’re relaxed you settle in the dirt. 

Being outside is great and all, truly better than inside, but you’re still all alone. 

You roll the ball hard against a tree in front of you, letting it bounce off the bark and watching as the force pushes it back to you. 

For a while this is what you do rolling the ball every time it comes back to you, although you do eventually get bored of just rolling it, and then decide to bounce it, throwing the ball into the dirt watching the dust rise as it bounces and smacks against the bark again.

This only lasts a couple minutes before you spike it with excitement, only to have it soar over your head in the return. 

The ball bounces off into the woods behind your house, and you scramble to your feet to chase after it. 

After all if your parents come home and your ball is missing they’ll know something’s up -

That and well, you like your ball a lot. 

Although you’re chasing after it as quick as you can it seems to evade you completely, rolling out of reach every time. 

“Oh no.”

You freeze up, watching as your ball rolls steadily still towards a steep hill created by a mudslide.

If the ball rolls down there, there’s no way you’ll be able to make it down there to get it.

Maybe you’re lucky though.

Because he ball seems to stop a few inches away from the edge. 

It causes you to unfreeze in relief, once again bounding off after your ball, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you actually grab hold of it, feeling the cool, dirty rubber in your hands. 

This relief, it’s very short lived, for the moment you try to turn around and head back towards your house, the unsteady earth underneath begins to give way. 

Of course you drop the ball, it slips from your arms and rolls down with the falling rocks and dirt as you try to grab for something to hold on to. 

But you don’t find anything. 

All you can do is curl up in a ball, your arms moving to guard your face as your body is forced tumbling down hill at full force. 

It hurts.

Your skin scrapes against the harsh earth and rocks while your ears rush with blood from the constant movement. 

With your eyes closed you aren’t able to see how far you are from the end of the hillside, all you can do is keep rolling until your body slams hard into a tree.

If you weren’t already curled up into a ball, you would have curled anyway from the extreme pain you’re in. 

All you can do is lay there, waiting for enough of the pain to pass that you can will yourself into standing up. 

“Are you alright?” 

You aren’t expecting the sudden voice. 

You hadn’t heard anyone approaching, although maybe that was because of the blood still rushing in your ears.

It’s hard to speak, maybe because of how many times your teeth had clunk together as you’d rolled down the hill, or maybe it was because the grinding of your teeth was helping to distract you from the pain. 

“Here,”

Now you can hear the stranger as he moves, the crunching of the grass as he crouches down beside you.  

Something is pressed to your face, warm and wet, but it seems to numb the pain, and so you press yourself into it more. 

When the pain finally fully subsides you peek open your eyes to look at the stranger who helped you and immediately recoil in shock, back pressing more to the tree that had stopped your fall. 

“You-What-What are you?” 

He doesn’t look like anything you’ve ever seen before, although he looks kind of like you, like he’s around the same age as you. 

Whatever he is, it’s not human.

Although...He does look humanish. 

You can make out all the right shapes, hair, eyes, nose, arms, legs, ten fingers and toes. 

But then there’s the weird part, the nonhuman part. 

He’s translucent, and blue! 

You can even see your ball floating in your torso. 

Without thinking you reach out to touch him, and he does the same. 

Your hand touches his, and by feeling alone you’re now able to realize what he’d pressed to your face. He’d simply touched you with his hand. 

It’s odd. Touching him. 

He feels gooey, like he might break away into liquid any second, but he doesn’t.

“I’ve never met anyone who looked like you before.” He says, he sounds sheepish, maybe shy, and finally moves his hand away from yours. 

All you can do is nod, sharing the sentiment entirely. 

“Yeah…What are you?”

He’s looking at you with bewilderment and wonder, and you imagine you’re looking at him the same way. 

“Me?” He asks back. “I’m a slime. What are you ?” 

It takes you a moment to respond, still bewildered by the fact this boy even exists.

“I’m a human? Have you never met a human before?”

“Well you’ve never met a slime before!”

Touché. 

“Can…Can I have my ball back?” You finally ask. 

“Oh...This is your ball? That makes sense, it suddenly bounced inside me and got stuck.”

With an odd fascination you watch as he reaches inside himself, and pulls the ball out offering to you. 

It’s...oddly not wet at all.

The slime boy seems to hesitate for a moment, before smiling politely at you. 

“If you were playing ball...You could play with me and my friends?”

The offer instantly gets your attention. He may be a slime but...He’s another kid just like you, and it’s not very often, if ever, you get to play with other kids!

Instantly you nod in excitement. 

“Great!” He seems just as excited. 

“I’m sure everyone will be excited to meet you!”

You follow the slime boy, who introduced himself as Dimitri, deeper and deeper into the forest until you found what appeared to be a city. 

“Dimitri?” It looks...the same as human cities, it makes you wonder how no Humans ever found it before. 

He doesn’t get a chance to respond to your questioning, because immediately someone else is calling out for him. “Your highness, there you are!” 

It’s another slime, of course it is, this boy is also blue in color, although a darker blue than Dimitri. 

“Where have you been, and who is this?” 

He looks past the other boy, and straight at you, trying your best to smile despite your nerves about everything. 

“I just went for a walk Dedue, and on that walk I met my new friend ____.”

“Your new friend…is a human.” This other slime boy is watching you now, looking you up and down, sizing you up. 

It makes you gulp, but you keep your best nervous smile on your face all the while. 

The anxiety doesn’t stop you from asking a question that’s been on your mind since he’d joined you and Dimitri. 

“You called Dimitri ‘your highness’, what does that mean?” 

Of course you’d heard the term before. You knew about royalty, and you’d read lots of fairytale books with Kings and Queens, Princesses and Princes, but you’d never met a member of royalty before. 

“Oh, that.” Dimitri seems to get embarrassed. It’s an odd thing to see, the color of gelo in his cheeks seems to turn a darker blue, almost purple. 

“I constantly tell him that he can just call me by my name but…”

“I am your vassal, your highness, and I want to show you the respect you deserve.”

This exchange only makes you more confused as you look between the slimes, the expression on DImitri’s face is woeful for a moment, before he seems to give up on Dedue and looks at you. 

“To answer your question ____, I’m the Prince of the Slimes.”

....Oh.

Your new friend is a Prince. 

Not just any Prince, but the Prince of the Slime people. 

The Slime people you had no idea existed until today.

This is the best day ever!

Dimitri and Dedue introduce you to their friends, more slime kids around your age. 

They introduced you to three girl slimes by the names of Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette.

Annette, the smallest of the three slimes, and a seafoam blue color is incredibly excited to meet you, instantly bombarding you with questions about what humans were like that you struggled to answer before she fired another question at you. 

The next slime was a girl named Ingrid. She’s a light green slime, and she doesn’t seem nearly as excited to meet you as Annette is. In fact...she seems to be judging you, extending her hand for you to shake, only to completely encompass your hand in her goo. 

“So-Sorry.” You apologize as soon as you pull your hand away, moving to wipe it on your pants. 

“Ingrid,” The final slime girl and oldest of all the slime kids, Mercedes, speaks up. She’s the tallest of the three, and her skin is a lavender purple in color. “Be nice to him Ingrid,” Her voice is soft as she scolds the other girl. “Dimitri said he’s never met slimes before.” 

After the girls you were introduced to three more boys; Ashe, Felix, and Sylvain. 

Ashe is a grey slime, he’s all smiles and politeness as you introduce yourself. “I’d ask you more about humans but I think Annette asked enough questions for the two of us.” His laugh is nice, and contagious, you smile and laugh too. 

Felix is a different story. “I’m ____.” Your introduction results in nothing else but you being scoffed at by the seemingly indifferent cyan slime. He makes you uncomfortable, and so you’re quick to move on, introducing yourself to the final of all Dimitri’s friends. 

“I’m sorry about Felix,” An energetic orange colored boy says as he takes your hand. It’s a good thing he just grabbed for it, after all since meeting Ingrid you likely wouldn’t have reached to shake his hand yourself. “He can be a little...You know.” “Shut up Sylvain!” 

Sylvain, the boy you’d just met, laughs and smiles wide at you. 

“It’s probably obvious,” he says. “But I’ve never met a human before either.” He says. “But I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”

For the rest of the day you play with the slime children. And you learned really...They’re no different than you!

And it seems like your games aren’t that different either!

The nine of you end up playing kickball, split into an uneven team of four versus five. 

On the smaller team is you, Dimitri, Deduce, and Ashe, while the bigger team consists of Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid, Annette, and Mercedes.

None of you are really keeping score (except for Felix), the game is just for fun, after all. And the game is fun. You’re having the most fun you’ve had in a while, you’d almost forgotten what it was like to play with other kids.

In fact, you’re having so much fun you don’t realize how late it is until the sun starts to set. 

“Oh no.”

And you’d forgotten that you had to be home.

There’s no way your parents aren’t home by now. They’re probably worried sick, and you’re going to be in so much trouble. 

“What’s wrong?” Dimitri asks at your sudden look of panic. “I wasn’t supposed to be out this late,” You sheepishly admit. “My parents are going to be so mad…I don’t even know the way back.” 

“I’ll take you back.” The slime Prince sounds determined. “I know the way to the edge of the forest at least. Once you’re there you should be able to find your way home, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks Dimitri.” 

“Of course, ____, what are friends for after all.”

Friends.

You and Dimitri are friends now. The other slime kids are your friends now too, you hope. 

“Goodbye everyone,” You say your goodbye to your new group of friends, smiling. 

“Please come visit us again!” Mercedes says smiling as she waves you off. 

Dimitri grabs you by the hand gently leading you out of the slime peoples city and back into the dense woods. 

The sun is setting faster in the sky, and soon enough the forest is getting scarier and scarier. You find yourself gripping Dimitri’s hand for comfort. 

“____?” He turns to face you, hand still in yours, a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

It takes you a moment to respond, eyes focused on the darkness through the trees, watching for any danger, anything that might want to hurt you and Dimitri. 

“My parents...They said the woods are dangerous.” You try to keep back tears as the fear starts building in your chest.

Fear of both what could happen to you and Dimitri out all alone, and of what your parents will do to you for disobeying them if you do manage to get home. 

“Oh.” Dimitri’s expression softens as he turns to smile comfortingly at you. 

“There’s nothing to worry about ____, I’ll protect you.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. You have my word.” 

Even though you’d just met Dimitri today, you knew you could trust him. When he promised to protect you, he meant it.

Thanks to Dimitri’s reassurance you have no issue continuing on. “____?!?” 

It’s faint at first, but the closer you get to home, the louder the sound of your parents calling your name gets. “____! Where are you sweetie?” 

Last time it was your father calling out to you, this time it’s your mother. She sounds terrified. So much so you let go of Dimitri’s hand, sprinting out towards the treeline. 

“Mom? Dad? I’m here!”

Your mom practically tackles you into a hug, forcing you against her tightly. “There you are...Thank god.” Something wet drips onto your head, and you realize she’s crying. 

“Mom?”

“We were so worried-” It’s your father who hugs you now. He’s never shown much emotion, even now, but you can still tell by the trace of emotion in his voice that he was scared too. 

Once they finish hugging you your mother cups your face, using her thumbs to wipe away some of the dirt. “What...What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Your face-” Your mother gasps, and you think for a moment she might start crying again. She digs around in her purse, and finally finds her compact lifting the mirror to your face. 

Now you see what upset her so much. 

A scar, a new scar right on your forehead. 

You reach out with your fingers, watching your reflection as you touch the newly healed gash with your fingers. 

The tumble down the hill...It must have caused this injury but…

The pain had stopped once Dimitri touched it, it was a scare now, despite happening only a few hours ago.

Somehow Dimitri numbed and completely healed your wound. 

That’s right Dimitri!

You look past your parents, and back to the dark treeline, but you see nothing.

No sign of Dimitri. 

Really...The whole story is hard to believe, but...You know it happened. 

It had to be true.

There’s no chance you’d just imagined Dimitri, and all the others. If you had, how else would you explain your new scar?

After that your parents decided you had to move. It didn’t seem to matter that aside from the scar you were unharmed, you’d given them enough of a scare they decided it was worth it to finally move into the city. 

You’d begged them not to, told them you didn’t want to move. In a last ditch effort you told them all about Dimitri and the others.

The thought was that if they knew you had friends, they’d actually let you stay. 

But…

But your parents thought you were making it up. 

They thought you were lying in an attempt to avoid moving, and worst of all your father had said to you; “Fantasy stories like this are exactly why we need to move, ____.  We’ve clearly been leaving you alone too often for you to start making things up like this.” 

It crushed you.

It crushed you because you knew you were telling the truth. 

Your scar was proof of that. 

Your parents were moving so fast with the move too.

When you wake the next day a lot of the things in the living room were already boxed up, and more than that…

Your mom had taken off work. 

It’s like they didn’t want to leave you alone now.

But if you were moving, really moving, you had to make your way back to your new friends and let them know.

You refused to just disappear without telling them, after all you promised you’d come back and play again. 

All day you’re stuck with your mother, it’s not until your father gets home that you’re allowed out of her sight, but even then there’s no real chance for you to get past either of them and get outside. 

So you make a plan. 

Tonight after both your parents have gone to bed you’ll sneak out of the house.

You’ve never done something like this before, but...you not only have to do it, you want to do it. 

The wait is absolutely agonizing. 

When it’s time for dinner you rush through your food, almost making yourself sick in the process, only to rush off to bed and wait as soon as you’d finished eating and gotten the permission. 

You lay in bed, pretending to be asleep, as you listen to your parents moving downstairs. 

After what feels like eternity you hear them make their way up the stairs, and you listen with baited breath as the footsteps stop outside your door.  

“Should I check on him?” It’s your mother. Her voice a hushed whisper, although you can still hear it through the thin walls, a reminder you’ll have to be extra quiet when you sneak out. 

“Nah.” Your father says, his voice soft but not bothering to try and whisper. “He seems pretty against the move, especially if he went to bed so early. Let him rest, he’ll feel better in the morning.”

She seems to listen to him, because your mother says nothing else and you hear the gentle sound of her footsteps mixed with your fathers heavier ones as they continue down the hall to their own room. 

You let out a huge sigh of relief and finally open up your clenched shut eyes. 

Slowly you sit up in your bed, you want to do everything as slow as possible to avoid making any noise. 

You slip on a pair of boots, and your jacket. 

It’s going to be dark out in the forest, and it’s going to be cold. 

And now that you’re dressed for your expedition you work on the decoy. Grabbing a large stuffed tiger you force it into your clothes, and then beneath your covers, making sure to tuck it in so the head is completely under the covers. 

If either of your parents were to peek in now, they’d assume the lump in the blankets to be you, and would only learn the truth if they tried to wake you up. 

Perfect. 

Now you just have to wait. 

You wait until you hear the clear sound of your fathers snores shaking the house before you slowly twist the knob to your bedroom door. 

It clicks as you open it up, and you freeze.

But there’s no change in the house. No sounds from your mother as your father continues to snore loudly into the night. 

Despite your best efforts a few of the stairs creak under your weight as you make your way down, but either due to your fathers snores, or how deep a sleeper your mother is, no one seems to hear it either. 

Once on the first floor you practically bolt to the door, hands fumbling to undo the locks. 

As soon as the door opens you’re hit with the chilly night air, you’re glad you decided to wear your jacket. 

You make your way into the yard, shutting the door to the house behind you as you survey the treeline. 

Finding Dimitri would be hard.

After all he’s the one who found you after you’d fallen…

But that’s a good starting place. 

If you enter the forest the same way you did when chasing after your ball, surely you’d find Dimitri eventually, right?

Except this time you’ll take extra precautions to make sure you don’t fall and hurt yourself again. 

It’s nearly impossible to see in the forest when it’s this dark, you have to make your way by touch, feeling from tree to tree.

Eventually you run out of path, clinging to the tree behind you as you test the unsteady ground with the tips of your toes. 

Yes!

This has to be the mudslide you fell down before.

Still holding onto the tree, you gently slide your way down, until you're sitting fully on the ground. Then you slowly, and carefully scoot your way to the edge.

It’s steep, the ground is still unsettled, possible to collapse away again. 

Instead of trying to walk down, you’re going to slowly ease your way down, inch by inch on your butt. 

Sure your pants would be covered in dirt and mud afterwards, but it’ll be better than taking another hard tumble down. 

This works, for the most part, a couple times you slide uncontrollably, but thanks to the sitting potion you mostly wind up a sore back and butt, meaning you’re alright aside from a few possible bruises. 

However now the real challenge starts. 

You don’t remember much at all about the way to the slime city. You’d been so amazed by Dimitri’s entire existence you’d spent most of the walk staring at, and talking to the prince. 

Honestly...You’re not even sure which direction the two of you had gone in.

All you can do is guess, and start walking so that’s what you do after dusting off your pants. 

You pick a random direction and start heading that way. 

Surely if you just walk enough you’ll find the slime city. 

Thankfully, it seems luck is on your side. 

As you wander, once again using the trees to guide your way through the darkness, you eventually start to see lights in the distance. 

That makes it much easier. You manage to follow the lights all the way back to the slime city but…

It’s late. And with the time comes another issue. 

You don’t know how to find Dimitri. 

He’s a prince though, right?

And prince’s live in castles so if you find a castle you’ll find Dimitri!

From that point it’s easy. There’s only one building castle-like, towering over all the other buildings in this town, and so-

That’s where you go. 

You’re not sure the proper way to ask for a prince, what you’re allowed and not allowed to do in this kind of situation but…

It’s important.

So you just knock. 

A simple knock.

And as you wait you start to worry that all of this was one big bad idea. 

On the brightside you’re pretty sure you can find your way back home, this time. 

To your surprise and relief it’s not some stranger who opens the door, but Dedue. That means there’ll be a lot less explaining to do. 

“____?” He asks, the confusion clear in his voice. “It’s late, his highness is already getting ready for bed-” “Please!” You interject quickly. “This is important. I have to tell him something very important.”

Dedue sighs, but you can see his expression break down. 

“Alright. But quickly. He could get in trouble if you’re caught.”

Although his words briefly pique your interest, why would Dimitri get in trouble,  you don’t have time to ask, now filled with this urgency from Dedue. 

You quickly and quietly follow after Dedue as he leads you past a main hall, up a flight of stairs, and through several more hallways until he stops you at a door. He’s the one who knocks. “Your highness?” Dedue calls out to Dimitri through the closed wooden door. 

“Dedue?” Dimitri’s voice answers almost immediately. “Come in, is something wrong?” 

He isn’t given a verbal answer, but he sees you clear as day once the door is opened. The prince looks surprised, but then quickly his expression changes to a smile. “____? What are you doing here?”

“I needed to tell you something!” You explain, your emotions getting the best of you, realizing that you’ve just made friends and you’ll likely never see them again. 

“My parents...They’re making us move.” 

“You’re moving?”

“I don’t have a choice. I just...Didn’t want you to think I left because of you.”

Dimitri nods. “I understand-” “Dimitri, you and your friends, you’re the first real friends I’ve ever had. So I wanted to properly say goodbye.” Dimitri looks sad, but...understanding. “Here...Let me give you something then.” 

You and Dedue watch Dimitri go through several drawers until he finds what it is he’s looking for. 

“...A knife?” A dagger, still in its sheath. 

Just like before he seems to grow a bit embarrassed, the blue in his cheeks turning a darker purple in color. 

“I said I would protect you...With this you can protect yourself, even if I’m not with you.” You take the dagger from him. It’s thoughtful...although you have no idea how to use it. 

“Thank you Dimitri.” You hug it close to your chest. If nothing else, it’ll be another reminder that Dimitri and the slimes are real. 

“I’ll treasure it.”

After that you somehow manage to get home on your own. Although you were alone, you weren’t scared, after all you had the dagger from Dimitri. You knew if you had that, you’d be safe. It’s still dark when you get back, and yet you’re able to sneak back into the house. 

Nothing’s changed. It’s like you never snuck out at all. As you carefully make your way up the stairs you can still hear the sound of your fathers snores, even as a stair creaks under your feet. 

Tired now, and in the homestretch, you don’t freeze, or worry about whether your parents wake up and catch you. 

You just hurry to your room, change out of your dirty clothes and back into your pajamas and then crawl into bed. 

The dagger from Dimitri is special to you and so you decide to sleep with it, sliding the dagger under your pillow where you know it’ll be hidden from your parents. 

That was your last night in the house. By the end of the next day your parents had packed and moved everything into a house in the city. 

A week later you’re enrolled in school, and you finally start interacting with other kids your own age, human kids. 

The first month in the city was the worst. Most of your time, when you weren’t in school, was spent trying to beg your parents to go back. 

However there was no amount of crying or bargaining in the world capable of changing their minds, not when they thought your safety was at risk. 

Time was going to move. With or without you. 

And eventually you just gave up on begging. 

As time moved on, as you got settled into your new home, new school, and made new friends. 

But you still hadn’t forgotten Dimitri, and the other slime children. 

Not when you still held close the dagger Dimitri had given you. 

You remembered it, remember being given it by a boy made of blue. 

Once you tried asking your mother about it. About the boy you remember, the boy made of blue slime who’d given you a dagger.

She had simply laughed off the story.

But her explanation as to what happened, what you remember, it made a little sense. 

“You’ve had lots of dreams about the old house since we’ve moved,” She’s right. It felt like almost every time you fell asleep you dreamt of your old home. “It’s not odd you dreamt of the forest there too...and going on some grand adventure.” She’d finished her explanation with another laugh, and a smile. “Oh to be young again.”

Eventually...You believed her.

There was no such thing as slime people after all, it all had to have been a dream. 

Dream or not, the dagger at least, the dagger was real. 

And as the years passed, you slowly did end up forgetting everything about the slime Prince, and about the forest behind your childhood home. 

But...You never forgot the dagger. Never gave up the dagger. 

It’s your most prized possession, even if you couldn’t remember who gave it to you, or how you came to own it in the first place. 

That’s why you bring it with you wherever you go. 

At fifteen you’re finally considered an old enough to be left alone, without the constant watchful eyes of your overbearing parents, and so, you did what any fifteen year old boy experiencing freedom for the first time would do. 

You decided immediately to go on an adventure to explore the forest surrounding the city.

It’s the weekend and thankfully your parents still have to work, so you won’t have to worry about them catching on. 

You still lie though, telling them you’ll be spending the day at one of your friend’s houses, and once your parents finally leave you pack some essentials. 

The forest is dangerous, you know that, there’s always a chance you could run into a feral dog, wolves, or something like a bear, however with your dagger by your side you feel invincible. 

You stuff your backpack with water, lunch, and basic hiking supplies before making your way out the town's gates. 

Most of your walk is actually nice and peaceful, it’s not at all the adventure you were expecting, but you still find yourself enjoying it. 

The sunlight filters in through the trees creating beautiful patterns on the forest floor, and the occasional touch of sunlight to your skin has you feeling warm all over. 

At one point during your forest walk you even see a deer, although it had quickly run away once it had noticed you. 

When you start to get tired you decide that it’s lunch time, you’ll stop when you find some sort of clearing to relax in. 

And carrying on you do find a clearing, kind of. 

It’s not so much a clearing than it is a yard, a yard belonging to a familiar home in the middle of the forest. 

Your childhood home. 

It’s a little odd, you hadn’t realized you’d been walking that long, nor had you been trying to find this place.

The memory of how to get you had long since left your mind, and the pathway your parents had made back then had been completely taken over once more by nature itself. 

Still having found it…

It’s a nice coincidence. 

You decide that your lunch can wait, you want to explore!

The house is worse for wear now after five years of disuse.

Although you’re not surprised it’s been abandoned, after all who would want to live in the middle of the woods far away from anyone else, it still makes you a little sad to see. 

This was a place you held fondly in your memories and heart, it was the place you spent most of your childhood, and now it was decrepit and abandoned. 

You stay on the outside for now, circling and seeing the damage time has tolled on the old building. 

Vines have overtaken the brick walls, growing and lining until they meet at the house's roof, whatever color it had once been replaced now with only foliage. 

A ball, long since deflated sits on the ground, almost causing you to trip. 

It’s yours. 

You recognize it, if even slightly. 

Your parents must have left it in their rush to move. 

What once was a shiny new red is now dusty and pink, bleached from the years of sun. 

It feels rough, scratchy in your hands, and for a moment, as you hold the husk of a toy in your hands you remember playing with it, playing kickball, with a group of friends. 

It’s only a vague memory though. 

One you can’t place. 

After all, you hadn’t had any friends since until you moved to the city. 

The ball goes back where you found it, although you make a mental note that it’s there so you hopefully won't trip over it. 

Despite the fact it was important to you, and you remember so many hours playing with that ball by yourself, there’s no reason to keep an old deflated ball. It’s odd seeing an abandoned house in such good shape. No one’s even vandalized it for the sake of it. 

The windows are intact, although it’s utterly impossible to gaze through to the inside due to the years of dust lining the glass. 

This does little to deter you though, if anything it only makes you want to see the inside even more. 

It’s not like you’re expecting to find anything. 

You still remember your last day in the house, how empty everything had been once the boxes were moved out. 

There was nothing left.

Nothing that made it a home, anyway. 

The front door looks somehow less decrepit then the rest of the old building, aside from a few cracks and splinters in the wood. 

To your immediate surprise you find the door easy to move, opening with relative ease.

You had really expected to struggle with the door until the point you had no choice to force it open with all your strength. 

But that wasn’t the case at all. 

It didn’t seem at all as if the door, aside from some weathering, had been damaged by the elements at all. No swelling of the wood, or intrusive ivy filling the lock. 

Dust. That’s the first thing you see, and yet, there’s not enough of it. 

Not enough dust for all the years this place has laid abandoned.  

In fact, it almost looks as if someone has taken the time to begin slowly cleaning this place up, they just haven't gotten around to the dust encrusted windows yet. 

A chill goes down your spine. 

Maybe this place is much less abandoned than you had previously thought. 

You grab for your dagger.

The smart thing would be to leave, if someone really is here that means you’re possibly putting yourself in harms way…

But at the same time, this is your house, or at least it was. 

You don’t want a stranger defiling it, destroying it, and all the memories that come with it. 

“Hello?” 

It’s probably not the safest option, you realize as soon as your voice echoes in the empty home. If someone is here, all you’re doing is letting them know that you’re here. 

“Is someone here?” 

Footsteps above you. Slow and steady. 

You can hear them. 

The handle of your dagger grows damp with the sweat from your nervous palms. 

“Y-You shouldn’t be here.” 

Not that you can talk, really, realistically you’re just as much as a trespasser as this person. 

They don’t respond. The footsteps just continue and you feel yourself grow less brave by the second. 

And then you see it-

Well him. 

A boy, a man?

He looks to be the same age as you, with blonde hair, and bright blue eyes but something about him isn’t right. 

Something about him is uncanny valley. 

And then you realize what it is. 

It’s faint, incredibly faint, but you can see the wall behind him. 

“Gh-Gho-”

The scream of ghost doesn’t leave your lips before you turn, scrambling towards the door. 

“Wait please!”

A familiar voice calls out for you to wait, but you don’t, not even hesitating as in your scramble for the door your dagger falls from your hand and onto the old wooden floor below. 

You run, and run, and run. 

It doesn’t matter that you were tired before you began investigating the house, adrenaline allows you to keep going, to keep running, until you’re back within the safety of the city gates. 

It’s only then, only once you know you’re safe do you finally stop, collapsing with your hands on your knees as you try to breathe, lungs and legs burning from the overexertion. 

All you can think in that moment is your parents were right. 

They were right to move. 

The woods are dangerous. 

You went straight home only to lock yourself in your room, finally eating your lunch as you stress and replay what you saw over and over in your head. 

That boy, or ghost, or monster…whatever it was, why did it look so familiar to you? 

And why had it been in your old house? 

No matter how hard you think on it you aren’t able to find an answer, at least not one that makes sense to you. 

He had told you to wait. 

He hadn’t wanted you to leave. 

Why?

And your dagger…

Your most prized possession…

You’d dropped it. 

It was gone now, and if you wanted it back you’d have to go back and possibly face whatever it was you’d seen there today. 

You aren’t sure if it’s worth it. 

And if it is, well, it’ll have to wait. 

You’re not going back today. Not now. When it’s already late, and you’re already so exhausted. 

So exhausted that a nap sounds great, actually, and you allow yourself to lean back against your bed and shut your eyes. 

Sleep takes you easier than you thought it would. 

Tap. 

A consistent tapping noise makes you stir from your slumber, but you don’t want to get up, not yet. Your bed is warm and comfortable, and you’re still tired. 

You simply roll over instead. 

Tap. 

Tap. 

Tap. 

A frustrated groan leaves your throat. You cover your head with your pillow, and hope it’ll make the sound go away. 

It doesn’t. 

In fact, the tapping only seems to get louder the more you try to ignore it until…

Instead of tapping you hear the sound of glass splintering. 

That’s what does it. 

You toss the pillow from your head, and finally sit up in bed. 

It’s dark out. 

You must have slept the rest of the day away after coming home. 

As your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness, you realize what exactly had made the splintering sound. 

The window. 

There hadn’t been a crack in it before, not that you remember at least, and now there is, although small in size. 

“...” 

Gulping down your fear you get out of bed, inching your way to the window, and peeking out to see what has managed to crack your window. 

And when you see it, see him, you freeze. 

It’s the same boy, or ghost, or whatever that you’d seen in your old house he’s standing in your yard, on the ground below your second story window. 

A chill runs down your spine. 

He’d been trying to get your attention, throwing rocks at your window like this was some sort of fairytale. 

He noticed you peeking, you can tell, if only because of the relieved, almost nervous smile that makes up his expression. 

“It really is you,” The other boy starts and he sounds just as nervous as he looks. 

“I thought it was. You’ve changed but you look the same in a lot of ways, but I still wasn’t sure, and then you dropped this,”

A dagger.

Your dagger. 

The dagger you’ve kept on your person almost everyday since you were ten years old. 

“I never thought I’d see you again ____.” 

It hits you then, when he says your name, exactly who this is. 

Dimitri. 

The boy you’d see in your dreams about the forest, the same boy your mother had told you only existed in your imagination. 

He was bigger now, grown up a bit  just like you. 

“Dimitri?” While your own eyes widen in shock and disbelief, surely you’re still dreaming, Dimitri’s expression changes into that of a big smile. 

“You remember-”

You nod quickly, managing to force a “stay there,” from your lips as you rush.

In a haste you don’t bother to grab a coat to protect you from the cold night air, nor do you bother putting on shoes to avoid the wet grass, you simply rush as you are as quickly and silently as possible down the stairs and out your front door. 

Part of you is almost surprised to see Dimiti still standing there, as if you’d been afraid he was simply some sort of hallucination you were having. 

Maybe that’s why the first thing out of your mouth when you meet him face to face is;

“You’re real.”

It makes him laugh, the sound filling your body with warmth despite the chilly night air. 

“Of course I’m real.”

“I thought...I just meant…”

You stumble over your words. 

“It’s been a long time,” You start explaining. “Eventually I thought that I...That I made it all up. That I made you up...and I guess then I forgot.” 

For a moment you worry the admission will make him mad, that he’ll talk about how bad a friend you are for forgetting, but he doesn’t. 

He stays smiling gently at you, just glad to see you after all these years. 

“You didn’t forget ____,” His voice is soft, you can hear the fondness in it. 

“After all you kept the dagger all this time, didn’t you?” A bit of embarrassed heat rushes to your cheeks because he’s right, you did.

Not only had you kept the dagger, but you revered it as one of, if not your most, prized possession in the whole world. 

“Yeah...I did.”

“See,” Dimitri continues with a smile, “You never forgot. Not truly.”

With that said he hands you back your dagger, the dagger he originally gave you, and just like before the handle is still warm from his touch. 

“I wanted to return it to you.”

That just reminds you-

“Dimitri...Why were you at my old house to begin with?”

“Oh.” 

It’s the Princes turn to blush. 

Unlike when he was a child, he doesn’t turn purple, instead the pale shade of his cheeks turns red. 

“I visit there sometimes,” He admits softly. 

“Occasionally cleaning it up....Just in case.”

“Incase?”

“Incase you came back.”

Oh. 

“Dimitri-”

“___?”  A voice comes from inside your house, you instantly recognize it as belonging to your mother. She must have heard you talking.

“Tomorrow,” You tell Dimitri quickly. “I’ll meet you there, in the forest, tomorrow.”

Although you aren’t sure how your mother would react if she saw the Slime Prince, you don’t want to risk anything. 

Dimitri looks surprised and thrilled, although you only see his expression for a moment before you’ve turned to go back inside quickly closing the door behind you so there’s no chance of her seeing Dimitri. 

“Sorry!” You call out to your mother. 

She’s tired and annoyed. 

“That stray dog was outside again,” It’s a lie, but a believable one, at least. “It was scratching at the door so I tried to shoo it away.”

“...Fine...Just go back to bed.”

So you do. 

It’s hard to fall back asleep though, your heart seems to be pounding in your chest. 

You’re excited, excited and afraid that if you fall asleep you’ll simply wake up tomorrow and this will all have been a dream. 

When you do finally wake up you waste no time, you rush out the door and to the woods. 

The path is still gone due to time, but you remember how you’d stumbled upon the house the day before, and so it’s easy to find it with the retracing of your steps. 

Dimitri’s waiting.

Both of you seem relieved, surprised, to see the other. 

In your case you were still worried that this had all been a dream, that you’d come and Dimitri would never show.

And Dimitri…

Well you can’t know for sure why he was surprised, but maybe he simply thought you wouldn’t show up at all, after all you’d gotten your dagger back. 

“You’re here-” “You really came-”

Both of you speak at the same time, a flush taking both your features in embarrassment. 

A moment passes, both of you getting over being flustered, before either of you tries speaking again. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t think-” “I just thought that maybe-”

It happens again. 

The two of you continue hesitating in fear of speaking over one another. 

An awkward silence takes the two of you, and you refuse to speak, waiting for Dimitri to finally sheepishly speak up on his own.  

“I’m glad you came.” This time he’s able to speak without you speaking over him. “I was worried that...Well I thought that maybe you wouldn’t come back. I thought that maybe…”

Dimitri trails off, and this time you interrupt him on purpose. 

“Of course I came.” 

If only to prove this was all real, that it hadn’t been a dream.

You had to come. 

“I’m glad you came, I’m glad you’re here.”

Hearing that makes Dimitri smile, and that makes you smile too. 

The rest of your day is spent with Dimitri. He led you through the forest in the trees, pointing out natural plants and herbs and their varying different uses; “Sometimes you can find edible plants among the weeds!”

By the time the sun is going down you’re exhausted but….you’d had the most fun you’ve had in a very long time. 

“Can we do this again?” 

It’s Dimitri who asked, and you can’t answer fast enough. 

“Yes! Please!”

But you’re both busy most of the time. 

You have school, and Dimitri has his princely duties on top of studies and training. 

The weekend.

The weekend will belong to the two of you. 

Next weekend when you meet up with Dimitri he takes you to the city, the same you’d visited when you were a child, and once again you’d been introduced to Dimitri’s other friends. 

They’d aged, just like Dimitri, and just like Dimitri their colors were different too. 

And naturally you were curious about it. 

When you had a chance, when it was just you and Dimitri, and you didn’t have to worry about someone like Felix judging you for the question, you ask.

“Everyone looks different than what I remember,” You start. “Like...There colors...are different.” Realizing that you might be saying something offensive you hesitate to continue. 

Thankfully Dimitri doesn’t seem bothered by what you said at all, just nods seemingly understanding. “When we’re born we’re all one color,” He begins to explaining, lifting one of his hands to the sun so you can see the way the light slightly trickles through the now skin color slime before he turns it back to the same blue shade you remember him being from his childhood, the same blue as his eyes. 

“But the older we get, the more we’re able to control our pigments.”

“Like camouflage?” You ask, reaching out to hold his hand, seeing your own through the blue. 

“Yes! Exactly like that. It’s a natural camouflage.”

“That’s...so….cool!” 

Dimitri’s pigments seem to drop entirely, his slime turning completely blue, except for his face which seemed to be turning purple. 

“Ye-Yes! It is!” He pulls his hand free of your own. “But as you can see I’m still getting the hang of it.”

For years things continue like that with the two of you. 

During the week you’d go to school, spend time with your family, but then on the weekend you’d return to the woods, to Dimitri, and to your other friends.

You’d even started repairing your old house with help from everyone turning it from its once abandoned state to a clean, livable home. 

And when the time came, when you were eighteen, an adult, you moved into that house in the woods. 

For a while things were good. 

You were happy. 

And your friends seemed happy too. 

But it couldn’t last forever. 

Something was wrong, you began to realize, something was wrong, and the slimes were hiding it from you. 

It go to the point where you could no longer ignore it. 

It had been nearly two weeks since you’d last seen Dimitri, and so you took matters into your own hands, traveling to the forest city to find him yourself. 

And you found him. 

Easily enough. 

He looked shocked to see you, worried to see you, even. 

“____? What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk.”

War.

That’s what they’d been hiding, a war was coming. 

They didn’t want you involved. 

They were going to have to leave. 

You were going to be left alone. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I-” 

Although you’re angry, angry that he was just going to leave without telling you, it doesn’t change how you feel about Dimitri, and so you interrupt his apologies with a kiss. 

Your first kiss. 

It feels weird, your flesh against his own slime, but it’s a nice weird. 

The kiss is soft and chaste, your face and lips are warm, and you can feel the warmth of Dimitri’s face against your own.

He kisses back, pressing his lips harder against your own, as if desperate.

Your heart skips a beat. 

“Don’t...Don’t apologize.” You say as soon as you pull away, lips still inches away from his own. “Just come back safe.” 

When you finally pull away enough to see his face, it’s red, he’s finally managed to control his pigments, and so he has a real blush, not purple tint. 

“I promise.” He takes your hand in his squeezing it firmly, but still gently. 

“I promise you I’ll come back safe, no matter what.”

You help them prepare the best you can, the best you’re able, and although you’re scared, you keep a strong face. 

It’s not your place to be afraid, after all, and if nothing else you want to be a support you friends can rely on. 

It’s Sylvain who seems to see through you though, as the pair of you pack supplies. 

“Don’t worry,” He starts smiling at you. 

The slime seems as laid back as ever, but you have to wonder if even that is just a front. 

“We’re not going to let anything happen to Dimitri.” 

And as comforting as that is, you still have to stop him there, “Sylvain, it’s not just Dimitri I’m worried about.” 

Clearly you’ve surprised him, his cocky expression dropping for just a moment before quickly coming back. 

“Huh?”

“You’re all important to me, Sylvain.”

You pull him into a hug, although it’s clear from his stiffening he wasn’t expecting that either. 

“I want you all to come home safe.”

“R-Right.” 

When you pull back you can only smile at Sylvain’s sheepish face. 

You can’t help but worry this is the last time you may ever see him. 

Dimitri comes to you, the day before they’re set to march, and he stays with you in your little forest home. 

And although the two of you have a good time...the same creeping feeling you’d gotten while packing with Sylvain comes, eating away at your heart, until it’s impossible for Dimitri not to notice something is wrong. 

“____?”

He reaches across the table, gently grabbing your hand, and pulling your attention from where you’d zoned out to his worried smiling face. 

“What’s wrong?”

“I just…”

You struggle to find the words, your throat feels tight, and tears feel like they’ll spring to your eyes at any moment. 

“You can tell me,” Dimitri says, his voice is soft, and hesitant. He’s scared of upsetting you further, and somehow that only upsets you more. 

After all...He’s about to go put his life on the line, fighting something, someone you don’t understand, and all you can do about it is cry. 

“I wanted to have one good day with you,” The tears begin to cloud your vision, and you can’t stop them from falling now. “And now I’m ruining it because I can’t help but think...can’t help but think it’ll be the last.”

Dimitri seems to freeze a little, before squeezing your hand tighter. 

It’s odd, his slime envelops your hand, and although it’s an odd sensation, it’s not bad. It almost tickles. 

It does so enough to distract you as you sniffle, trying and failing to keep anymore tears from falling. 

“____, I love you.” 

Now it’s your turn to freeze. 

The emotions, the feelings between the two of you had been clear since that first panicked kiss, but neither of you had verbalized it. Either out of fear of rejection, or the reality of what was to come. 

“Dimitri I...I love you too.”

A kiss. 

Your second ever, this time initiated by Dimitr, leaning over the table to press his lips against your own. 

A hand reaches to your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks as he kisses you.

When the kiss ends you’re just staring at him, smiling sadly. 

“I love you.” You repeat again, quieter this time, voice above a whisper. 

Dimitri hesitates for a moment, and you’re stuck to simply watch him curiously, a soft smile taking your face as he gets up, coming around the table to your side where he cups your face. 

He rests his forehead on your own. 

“I will always come back to you.”

His lips capture your own again, and you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him as close as you can. 

You almost don’t notice when he lifts you from your chair, surprised by his strength, but you let your legs wrap around his waist as well, in fear of falling. 

“Dimitri?” 

Parting for air you lick your lips, tasting him on them. 

He doesn’t respond, instead capturing your lips in a kiss once again, as he begins carrying you to your bedroom, the question answered. 

All you can do is blush when Dimitri places you softly onto your bed. 

You want this. You’ve wanted this. 

It would be a lie to say you haven’t thought about, and speculated what it would be with Dimitri like this, considering he’s not human. 

“Is this…”

He seems to realize now the big step he took on instinct, and is now making sure you’re okay with it. 

Dimitri is sweet.

As always wanting to make sure he doesn’t push you past your boundaries. 

“Is this okay?”

All you can do is nod. 

You want this. 

You want him. 

When you start to remove your shirt on your own he stops you. 

“Let me.”

He kisses you softly, although it lasts only a second before his lips move to their next spot, your cheek, and then your jaw, and then your neck.

Only when your shirt keeps him from kissing any lower does he finally begin to unbutton it, even going as far as to take your shirt and fold it afterwards setting it to the side. 

It’s cute how careful he’s being, although you don’t have much time to think about how cute Dimitri’s being before his mouth is on you again, this time kissing down your chest. 

Dimitri’s lips wrap around your nipple and begin to suck. 

The sensation is completely foreign to you, but it’s not bad. 

You arch into the wet sticky sensation of Dimitri’s mouth, gasping out when his tongue joins the fray, flicking your sensitive nub. 

An embarrassing mewl of pleasure leaves your mouth, and you find yourself once against wrapping your legs around Dimitri, attempting to pull him closer to you. It doesn’t help you escape the sensations though, because now your swiftly growing bulge is pressed directly against him, and you aren’t able to keep yourself from grinding it against him. 

He releases your nipple with a soft pop, although he flicks your nipple with his tongue one last time. 

“Do you trust me?”

Dimitri asks looking up at you, his head still resting on your chest. 

And of course you nod, licking your lips before you answer. 

“Always.”

The confirmation is all he needs to begin wrapping around your body with his own. 

It’s weird, an odd sensation, his bottom half joining together into one gooey mass which then sucks in your legs and hips. 

If it wasn’t Dimitri, you might have been afraid. 

Especially as you feel his goo start to slip into your pants, messaging the flesh of your calves as it steadily creeps upwards.

You’re covered entirely from the waist down, and it feels…

It feels amazing, like you’re being given a full body massage. 

“Dimitri-”

His name leaves your lips, and you’re surprised at how lust filled your voice is. 

Warm goo wraps itself around your cock, and as you moan out you find your mouth filled with it too. 

The slime in your mouth is somewhat harder than the similar sticky substance rubbing against you, and as your face flushes you realize it must be Dimitri’s cock. 

Relaxing as best you can, after all you’ve never done this before, you wrap your tongue around the somewhat solid appendage, trying your best to copy the movements you feel on your on cock. 

It doesn’t taste like you thought it would. 

It tastes like Dimitri’s lips, although a bit saltier. 

You buck your hips up and gag when Dimitri seems to do the same, his slimy cock going further into your throat. 

Something’s leaking from it, into your throat, and you realize then it must be his precum. 

“Mmm.” 

Warm squeezes on your cock force a moan from your throat, around the slimy cock settled there. 

You’re close, bucking into the warmth of Dimitri’s slimy body, but surprisingly it’s not you who cums first. 

It surprises you, causing you to cough and sputter around the slick liquid running down your throat, but thankfully the slime seems to retract at the same time, Dimitri wanting to avoid choking you if possible. 

“Sorry.”

With a blink he’s back in one form, no longer a big mass of slime, his hands now on your cock, stroking you feverishly to bring you to your own release. 

He kisses you, tongue mingling with yours passionately, tasting his own cum on your lips, and giving a soft noise of pleasure himself. 

“Dimitri!”

The moan of his name is smothered by his lips, but Dimitri still gets the jist. 

With one last squeeze to your cock by your lover you cum. 

The white sticky substance shoots onto both Dimitri’s hands and your chest as well, making a mess of you both. 

You lay prone for a moment, trying to catch your breath as you recover from such an intense, world shattering first orgasm. 

Dimitri doesn’t seem to need to wait though, his lips once again kissing at your neck, and trailing down your chest. 

All you can do is watch, panting softly, as a long blue tongue parts his lips and begins to trail further down. 

“Dima-”

It feels good, and it’s too much. 

He isn’t trying to overwhelm you though, he leaves your cock alone for the most part, the appendage licking between the dips in your ribcage, lower down to lap at the cum staining your skin before it can dry. 

The sight alone is lewd, it makes your spent cock twitch, and so you moan and shut your eyes as he continues cleaning you up. 

That same long slick tongue wraps itself around your cock, and all you can do is squirm with the over stimulation. 

Even if he’s not trying to make you aroused, just licking up your cum, cleaning you, it doesn’t stop your cock from starting to get hard though. 

He keeps at it, his tongue wrapping around and squeezing your cock with no real pattern. 

His tongue only leaves your cock when you’re fully hard, but he doesn’t stop touching you, not yet. 

Instead his tongue trails further down, the cooling slime on your cock already overloading you with sensation, but then he wraps it around your balls and you almost cum on the spot. 

“Dima-”

You clench up hard trying not to cum, although you don’t know if you really could with the vice grip of his abnormally long tongue wrapped around you. 

When he licks the underside your toes curl. 

“I’m...I’m gunna-”

He doesn’t let you cum, to your disappointment, not yet. 

Your chest heaves as he stops, slowly pulling away tongue trailing up the way it came until it’s back in his mouth. 

And then his hands reach down in its place, one wrapping around your cock, and the other going to fondly your now slimy balls. 

You cum almost instantly, Dimitri kisses you, moans silenced by his mouth. 

And after, he pulls you to him, his arms wrapping around you. 

It’s a sweet embrace. 

You feel safe, and at the same time there’s sadness in it. 

Recognizing that tomorrow he’ll be gone, and you have no idea how long it’ll be until you get to do this again, if you ever do. 

“Dimitri,”

He shushes you gently, hands moving to pet your hair softly, pulling your head to rest against his soft yet firm chest. 

It all feels so nice, so comforting despite your worry, you find your eyes starting to fall, sleep filling your body. 

“I love you, Dimitri.”

Sleepy words leave your lips as your hand tries to tighten in his chest, it’s a vein attempt to hold him, that if you just hold on enough he won’t leave. 

“I love you too.”

The last thing you feel before falling asleep is the gentle kiss of lips against your forehead. 

When you finally wake you find yourself alone. 

Dimitri isn’t in your bed, and when you search your home in hope he didn’t leave without being goodbye you find nothing. 

Nothing but a letter addressed to you. 

‘My dearest ____,

I’m sorry that I left without saying goodbye. It’s shameful of me, and if I thought there was any other way, I would have done that instead. I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you cry over my absence, and I am a weak man, I know that if you were to ask me to stay with you, that I would be tempted and I have to leave. I have to do this. Both as a man fighting for what he believes in and his family, and as a Prince fighting for his people. 

I’ll return to you. I promise you. Please try to understand.

Yours Forever, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.’ 

Part of you wants to throw the letter away in your anguish, but you don’t, you couldn’t. 

Not only is Dimitri right, you would have cried, you would have wanted him to stay, but the letter is also a testament to his love, and to his promise to return.

But knowing that, it doesn’t make it easier. 

It doesn't make the tears stop as you stand in your home, all alone, clutching the letter to your chest and crying. 

Nothing matters but Dimitri. 

Nothing matters but him coming home safe. 

And in the meantime you must carry on as normal, because that’s what Dimitri would want. 

So that’s what you do. 

You try to carry on as normal, but it’s hard. 

It’s hard without Dimitri and without your friends. 

At first you visit the slime city often, hoping for news of Dimitri and the others, but there never is.

And as you visit more on your own, the more you realize that by yourself, you’re nothing more than a human outcast. 

Eventually you stop going all together, knowing that...if something of note happened word would be sent to you, surely. 

And that’s what kept you from returning to the human city either, to your human family and friends. 

A fear that one day news would come from Dimitri, be it good or bad, and you wouldn’t be there to hear it. 

So you remain in your home. Even as the seasons begin to change. 

On the one year anniversary of his leaving for war, you get the courage to return to his city...only to find that it’s different now. 

A new ruler, a woman, Cornelia. 

She’s giving a speech and what she says…

It makes your blood run cold. 

“Our Dear Prince, Dimitri...It’s with a heavy heart that I bring the news to the people,” 

You don’t stay to listen. 

You already know what she’s going to say. 

That he’s dead. 

Dimitri is dead. 

He said he was going to come back to you. 

He’d promised. 

He’d lied. 

And it hurts. 

It hurts so bad you’re not even able to make it all the way home before you break down, your eyes clouded with tears, unable to see. 

You have to grab a nearby tree to brace yourself as the first sob leaves your mouth. 

What are you supposed to do now? 

Without him? 

Your chest hurts. 

If you didn’t know better you’d think you were dying, that your heart had broken, and now you were dying of the pain. 

It’s not his fault. You know it’s not but it doesn’t stop your feelings. 

Grief.

Anger.

Resentment. 

The letter he’d left you the day he’d gone to war, you still have it, you still carry it, just as you had the dagger before it. 

You pull it from your pocket, yelling and screaming at it as if it will help.

As if Dimitri will hear it. 

As if it will bring him back. 

But it doesn’t help.

Nothing helps. 

And eventually you know you have to move on. 

You have to go home. 

So you do, even as your face is red and wet from tears, you force yourself to continue, just as you had when he’d left you. 

The first few days after the news were the hardest, you struggled to get out of bed, or to even feed yourself. 

You simply laid there reading the words he had written to you over and over. 

‘My Dearest ____,’

‘I’m sorry that I left without saying goodbye.’

‘I’ll return to you.’

‘Yours Forever, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.’ 

You read the same lines over and over until the page became stained with your tears, and you began to know the letters' contents by heart. 

It changed something in you, reading the note so often, and you came to a decision. 

Dimitri wouldn’t have gotten himself killed. 

Not when he’d promised so dutifully to return to you. 

No....

Something had to be wrong about Cornelia’s story, and now you cursed yourself for not staying to hear her whole tale. 

Maybe it’s just the grief. 

You recognize that it might be.

But if he’s out there somewhere...You have to know. 

You aren’t a soldier. 

You’ve never been trained in the art of combat, but it’s dangerous out there, where Dimitri is, the war he’s fighting. 

Not a soldier, nor are you a fool. 

Dimitri had, throughout your time living there, throughout your time together, left things in your home, and so you picked up his training lance. 

You’d learn. 

You’d fight. 

You’d bring Dimitri home no matter the cost. 

“Dimitri, please just wait for me.”

All you can do is pray that Dimitri, wherever he is, whatever state he’s in, can hold on until you’re ready. 

It takes a month. 

A month of nonstop training, of nonstop working, till you finally think you’re ready. 

And with determination you set out to find the man you love. 

Fairly quickly you learn that combat training can never compare to the real thing, and yet you manage to prevail, manage to survive, even if some scrapes are close. 

Perhaps it’s your pure determination, or the true love in your heart, that keeps you victorious. 

It doesn’t matter.

You never stop to think about why you win against these foreign slime soldiers, your only thoughts are towards continuing on, towards finding Dimitri.

Currently you’re stalking through an abandoned city. 

It seems the soldiers you’d fought with on the outskirts had already been here, the city itself burned and scorched, most buildings no longer standing. 

Your dagger, the one Dimitri had given you when you were still only children, sits in your anxious hand, ready to attack anything that may make itself known. 

And something does make itself known, grabbing you from behind, surprising you entirely. 

Violently you thrash, and you at least recognize you were able to get a slash on the enemy, as they give a hiss of pain. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” It’s a panicked, but quiet whisper. 

And to your surprise you recognize the voice. You stop struggling, going limp, and allowing your eyes to gaze up into the face of your attacker. 

Sylvain. “There.” He relaxes, and releases you. “You were about to walk into an ambush.” 

His voice is still hushed, clearly trying to avoid whoever or whatever laid just beyond.

“Sylvain what are you-”

“I’ll explain later come on!”  

And with that you allow him to pull you along, outside of this poor ransacked town, and into the woods to a makeshift camp. 

“____? Is that you?”

“You actually found him, Sylvain!” 

Mercedes, Annette, Felix, and of course Sylvain himself. 

You’ve never been more relieved in your life, and you can’t stop the happy tears from entering your eyes. 

“Oh you poor thing…” Mercedes pulls you into an embrace, and you can’t stop yourself from hugging the woman back tightly, tears staining the shoulder of her clothes. 

“We’d heard rumors about a lone human fighting in the war, and we all thought...that has to be ____!” Annette explains cheerfully. “And we were right! We’re so glad you’re okay!” 

All you can do is nod, tears still shamefully streaming down your face, even as Mercedes pulls away and begins wiping them away with a handkerchief.  

“Where’s…” You take a deep breath, settle your shaking voice. “The others? An-And Dimitri?” 

Annette and Felix share a look. 

A look that makes you fear the worse. 

“The Boar’s gone and gotten himself captured, that lap dog of his too.” 

“But he’s alive!” Annette interrupts, smacking Felix on the back of the head, likely for keeping out that very important detail. 

“The others are keeping an eye on him from a distance, waiting on us, and we were waiting on you.” 

This is all such good news. 

Overwhelmingly good news.

The first truly good news you’ve heard in a while. 

“Then what are we waiting for,” You say through sniffles. “Lets go.” 

“No sir!” Mercedes interrupts, forcing you down onto a log by their makeshift fire. 

“You’re injured. You’re not going anywhere like this.” 

As much as you want to fight her, you can’t.

It feels like the adrenaline that’s been carrying you for days is finally crashing, and all the aches and pains, the injuries, are catching up to you. 

Mercedes is right. 

You need to rest.

If you keep going like this you’ll be no help to anyone, least of all Dimitri.

If you keep going like this you’ll get yourself killed. 

So you listen.

You rest, you let Mercedes heal you, and you listen as Felix tells you all the things about the war Dimitri had kept from you. 

He tells you everything. 

Everything about the conflict between the different slime people, about the death of Dimitri’s father and stepmother, and about his step sister Edelgard, the one they’re fighting against. 

You don’t understand it, although you wish there was some way for everyone to get along, you simply don’t understand it. 

As a human, you doubt you ever will, so you don’t try to. 

You’re not fighting for right or wrong, you’re fighting to protect your friends and the man you love. 

“He’s being held in Enbarr, so that’s where we’re headed now….Just don’t get in our way ____.” 

It’s almost too easy to make your way outside of Enbarr, to where Ashe and Ingrid are waiting to greet you all. 

Once again you’re relieved to see your friends as safe and sound as they can be given the circumstances. 

“We’re ready whenever you are.” Ingrid informs, giving a firm nod, “We know where the Prince is being held and-”

An explosion goes off within the city, and it’s clear from the mixed surprise and worry on everyone’s faces that this was not part of the plan. 

Despite the rising anxiety in your gut, you all seem to understand there’s no time for plans, only action, as you rush the gate, now no longer guarded, and enter yourselves. 

There’s a crowd of panicked guards and slime people, and you’re all able to slip in yourself, heading towards the sound of the commotion. 

When you finally find the source you don’t know how to feel. 

Afraid. 

Relieved. 

Dimitri and Dedue, both injured heavily but....

They’re alive. 

Dimitri seems to be missing part of the slime that makes up the left side of his face, but...He’s alive. 

There’s a woman in front of him, her too a slime, near defeated. 

She’s either unwilling, or unable to control her pigments, instead of appearing almost human like, she is all white. 

“El…” 

Dimitri’s the one who interrupts the tense silence between them, offering his hand to her. 

The woman smiles, you think for a moment she’s going to accept, that this whole horrible ordeal will be over, but then you see it. 

She’s reaching for another weapon. 

“No!” 

You cry out but Dimitri doesn’t need you to. 

He saw.

You know he did from the way he finishes the job, his lance slicing into the woman. 

Before now, you’d never actually seen a slime die, moving on in battle as soon as you’d cut them down.

But now you’re forced to watch as the woman wastes away into a puddle of nothingness. 

You feel sick, but it was him or her. 

In a moment your vision blurs and all you see is the ground rushing at you before nothingness. 

Warm.

You feel warm.

Instinctively you move closer towards that warmth, even as you recognize it to be the mostly solid body of someone else.

And then they chuckle, you hear and feel it, the way it echoes and rumbles your body. 

It’s a laugh you’d recognize anywhere, and you force your eyes open. 

“Dimitri-”

The light hurts. It’s too much, but it doesn’t stop you. 

“Goodmorning.” He says softly as he pet your hair. 

For a moment it feels like nothings changed, that everythings the same, that he never left for war, and you never learned to fight. 

“We’re almost home.” 

But things have changed. 

They’ll never be the same but you have each other. 

As your eyes adjust to the light, you realize his face is partially covered by bandages, you reach out gently, touching your hand to his slick warm skin.

“Dimitri…”

Tears spring to your eyes. 

You’ve been crying a lot lately. 

“I thought...I thought you were dead.”

He’s quiet for a moment, “I know.” His voice is still soft. 

“But I kept my promise, didn’t I?”

It makes you smile, even as the cart hits a bump making you jostle a bit. 

“Yeah...Yeah you did. Why did I…”

You don’t get to finish asking why you passed out before you’re interrupted by Mercedes, only now do you realize the others are in this cart with the two of you, and you find your face flushing in slight embarrassment. 

“I told you, you were pushing yourself too hard.” Mercedes interrupts, she’s scolding you but...She’s still got that motherly concern in her voice. 

“Seeing Dimitri-” She doesn’t wanna say it, to talk about what happened to Edelgard. 

“The stress was too much for you, and you fainted.”

“I see…” You’re embarrassed by that too, but you guess it doesn’t matter. 

These are your friends after all and everyone’s alright. 

It’s a silent ride, back to the city, but it’s not bad silence. 

Exhausted, but comfortable, grateful silence. 

Dimitri only lets go of you when the carriage finally jolts to a stop, but then he simply helps you to your feet. 

And when you all open the door it's to a crowd, a crowd led by Cornelia, the slime woman who’d given the news that Dimitri had died. 

She looks surprised, you can’t be the only who notices, the way her expression turns from surprised to angry before going completely blank. 

The crowd behind her however, they’re happy, thrilled to see their Prince, their real ruler back home and safe. 

Their cheers are almost deafening. 

“Dimitri,” Cornelia says, voice sounding as if it’s through gritted teeth, “It’s such a blessing to see you alive! I was told you were killed in battle.”

“I’m sure,” Dimitri is clearly not believing her either, to your relief, but he plays along if only for the crowd. “It’s good to be back.” 

He turns to you and to the others, “Head inside the castle,” The Prince says. “I want to make a speech, but you all need rest.” You go to argue, you open your mouth to do so, but before you can Dimitri’s cupping your face, pressing his lips to yours. 

“Rest.”

He repeats. 

This time you can only nod, before following the others inside. 

But aside from taking a seat, you don’t rest. 

Not until Dimitri’s back at your side. 

Not after everything. 

Thankfully, this time, he doesn’t keep you waiting long. 

Whatever speech he gave, it must have been brief, because you only waited a few moments, body threatening to doze off again in your chair. 

“Hey…”

The way Dimitri looks at you, it almost takes your breath away, his gaze had instantly softened when he laid eyes on you, and a soft smile took his face, despite how tired he looks. 

“Lets go to bed.” He says softly, taking your hand, and pulling you to your feet. 

The door to his room barely shuts before he’s on you, hands in your hair, lips on your own. 

“I...I missed you. I missed you so much.” 

His words come between kisses and gasps for air. 

You wrap your arms around him, and when Dimitri pins you to the door, your legs wrap around him as well. 

It’s passionate and sloppy, the pair of you just wanting to be together, to be closer to each other no matter the odds. 

He’s kissing down your neck, and as he does you whisper words of praise, and adoration. 

Trying to let Dimitri know just how much you love him. 

Just how much you missed him. 

“I love you.” 

He nips your neck. 

“Please never leave me again.” 

Dimitri goes in for a kiss, quick and chase. 

“I won’t.” He promises, lips still pressed to yours. 

“I promise.” 

A whimper leaves your throat, one of need, as Dimitri bites your lip, gently pulling it. 

You want him so bad.

You want him more now than you ever did back then, before he ever left, because now, unlike then, you know what it’s like to be with him. 

To be with who you love more than anyone else. 

“I want you,” Finally you tell him, giving a weak buck of your hips against his own. 

He pulls you to the bed, slime wrapping it around your wrists, and you let him. 

The pair of you eager lovers finally reunited. 

Once on the bed he kisses you, slowly trailing down as he had a year ago, his lips creating a trail for hands to follow and strip you of your clothing. 

When your cock hits the cool air you can’t help but buck forward, cock unintentionally puncturing Dimitri’s gel. 

It’s slick and warm inside, and all you can do is moan out without restraint. 

Dimitri chuckles, although all that does is create more pleasurable sensations for you. He’s clearly feeling something too though, it’s clear from his expression, and the flush of color in his cheeks. 

Your lover leans in close, his lips beside your ear as he asks just like before, “Do you trust me?”

All you can do is nod. 

He’s starting to envelope you, wrapping you up in his arms, until his body slowly morphs over yours. 

It’s a complete encasement, all but your head. 

Everything feels warm, and pulsing around you. 

Your lip finds itself between your teeth, biting down to hold back a moan. 

Especially when Dimitri moves. 

His arm moves, and by extension so does yours. 

Odd and a little scary, but you trust Dimitri, and so any fear is easily appeased.

Especially when Dimitri moves to grip your cock. 

“Oh fuck.”

Your eyes all but roll back into your head at the sensation. 

It already felt nice, a warm pulsing wetness wrapped tightly around your cock, but then he added the hand into the mix. 

Stroking it, stroking you, the two of you together. 

Dimitri’s moan comes from behind you, and the addition of it means all your senses are filled with him. 

It’s a strange sensation, being unable to control your own body, and yet at the same time pleasuring yourself and your partner. 

The only way you can think to describe it, as you buck against your hand, against Dimitri’s hand, is that you’re masturbating and getting a hand job at the same time. 

It’s all teasing, Dimitri never giving you enough, enough of anything to actually cum, even with all the extra stimulation. 

“C-Come on Dimitri,” You whisper out heatedly. 

“What?” He asks, despite enveloping you with his slime, his voice still sounds like it’s right behind you, you can feel the warm breath on your ear, making you shiver. 

“I want you to say it.”

And then he licks you.

That long wet tongue licking the shell of your ear. 

“Please, I,” Your face is flushed red, “I’m tired of the teasing, I want to cum,”

Dimitri squeezes his hand, causing your hand to squeeze down on your cock as well. 

It’s the last teasing touch, as Dimitri pulls away from you then, no longer holding your body in his own. 

As soon as he’s able though, he pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling it, your hard cock pressed against his own slick cock. 

“This time,” He shifts you again, this time sitting you so that he’s rubbing his cock between your thighs and against your ass, leaning into to kiss you as he does.

“I want to be the one making love to you.”

Making love...That is what you’re doing. 

You nod to him, lips pressed to his own. 

Sitting in Dimitri’s lap, kissing him so passionately, until you were forced to part for air, you aren’t sure how long it lasted, just that it felt like both forever and as if you hadn’t had enough. 

When Dimitri parts the two of you, once again moving your positions, pressing your back to the soft plush of his bed, you’re glad.

If it were you, you wouldn’t have had the willpower to pull away, instead choosing to sit there, kissing Dimitri forever. 

A soft moan leaves your lips as Dimitri pulls your hips to his, you can feel the way his wet cock rubs against your cock, your thighs, and eventually against the crack of your ass leaving a trail of cooling slime wherever it touches. 

It feels good, but still you’re ever impatient, legs wrapping around the man’s waist to pull him closer to you. 

He chuckles, amused by your impatience, or your neediness.  

And if it hadn’t been so long, if it wasn’t such a touching personal moment of reunion, you might have pouted at his laughter. 

Instead you add your arms to the embrace, forcing him down into another kiss. 

More a gasp against your lover's lips than a kiss, as Dimitri decided then to press the tip of his cock against your hole.  

“Dima~” 

The nickname leaves your heated lips as he thrusts again, filling you with more of his cock than before. 

Soft yet hard, it’s like his cock is filling every crevice of your insides, and every thrust fills them with more and more pleasure. 

Dimitri’s feeling it too. 

You can tell from how quiet he is, the furrow of his brow, as he focuses on plowing into you steadily. 

Between your bodies your cock is painfully hard, slapping against your stomach with each harsh thrust, and staining your skin with precum. 

A kiss. 

Then another. 

It feels like the two of you have only just begun, but you’re already so hard you can barely stand it. 

“I can’t,” You gasp  out between moans, “I’m gonna cum-”

A strangled cry leaves your lips as your cock is suddenly grabbed harshly. 

It doesn’t make you cum, but the feeling is so overwhelming in addition to everything else, you think your vision goes white for a second. 

“A little longer,” Dimitri says, you're so lost in pleasure you’re almost unable to make sense of the words, although the strain in his voice makes it clear it’s a struggle for him as well. 

“Together,” 

He interrupts himself with a thrust that knocks the wind from your lungs, and makes your cock twitch in his hands. “I want us to cum together.”

All you can do is nod, nod and move your arms, reaching out for Dimitri’s hand. 

If you’re going to cum together, you want to be holding his hands as you do it.

It’s when your fingers intertwined that you both cum. 

Dimitri cums first, hips stuttering and jolting inside you, trying to get as deep inside of you as he can as he cums. 

And you cum in return, unable to stop yourself as Dimitri paints your insides with his translucent cyan cum.

Your cum splatters onto both your stomachs, and Dimitri squeezes your hand, leaning down to kiss you too. 

When you pull away from the kiss, he drops your hand to cup your face instead, as he rests his forehead on yours. 

“I’m not going anywhere this time, I promise.”

You don’t remember falling asleep. 

But you wake up to a bed. 

A soft warm bed. 

 A bed that’s empty. 

That realization…

You jolt awake in a panic, beginning to sweat. 

That wasn’t a dream was it?

Please don’t let it have been a dream.

As your eyes get used to the waking world, you realize that, at least, you’re not in your room.

That’s a good sign. 

A sign that everything was real. 

But if it was real…

Where was Dimitri

There’s no letter this time, no apologies for his absence or begging for you to understand. 

It makes you equal parts anxious and hopeful.

“Dimitri?” 

It’s not your room, so you hesitate before putting on the clothes you’d worn the day before, and wandering out into the hall

There’s no sign of Dimitri, not yet at least, although you can hear the sounds of people talking.

Happy people. 

Banter.

Whatever lingering anxiety you have is put to bed by the sounds, and you follow it through the long halls until you find its source, the kitchen. 

To your great relief you see him there, the man that you love more than anyone else, Dimitri as he struggles to make pancakes.

You think it’s pancakes, whatever it is he’s making has already been burnt to a crisp, no thanks to Sylvain, who instead of moving to help the prince is mocking him instead. 

“Sylvain…” He sounds...exasperate, embarrassed too, but it’s all so cordial relaxed. 

A hope that things are already going back to normal. 

“I’m trying to make ____ breakfast, can’t you do something other than make fun of me?”

“Sorry Your Highness, no can do!” 

After everything you laugh. 

Dimitri’s here. 

He’s fine.

It wasn’t a dream. 

Everything is right as it should be.

You laugh, and you laugh, unaware of the relieved tears flowing down your face until you hear Dimitri’s worry call of your name,

“____?” 

His warm hands cup your face, thumbs begin to wipe away the tears as they fall from your eyes, but you can’t stop your relieved laughter. 

“I thought you’d left again.”

Dimitri softens and pulls you into an embrace, and you hear shifting of chairs as Sylvain rises to his feet behind you both. 

“I’ll uh...I’ll work on the pancakes...Felix is going to be upset if there’s no breakfast after all this…”

You cling to Dimitri with all you have, despite his rigidness.

“I suppose trying to surprise you was a bad idea.”

“You think?” The harsh comment comes from Felix who moves past the two of you to enter the kitchen. “You did leave him once for...well a whole year while he was sleeping. Kind of fucked up.” Dimitri’s breath hitches. 

Felix’s comments still manage to make you snort once with laughter. 

“It’s...It’s okay.” 

You finally manage, backing away from Dimitri just enough that you can properly look at him, smiling through the relieved tears. 

One day you’ll get over the fear of waking up without him there, but for now you just have to relish in the relief you get every time you see him again. 

He’s here, and everything’s going to be okay. 

[yunatheintrovert]

bleeding walls | Perseus/Bell

Warnings: Blood, Hallucinations, MK Ultra-level stuff, non-consensual electroconvulsive therapy, psychological whump, brainwashing. 

You stared up into the mind numbingly bright light hanging over your head. It rocked back and forth lazily as you saw one of the figures in white coats above you bump against it with a stifled curse. 

The familiar sound of machines humming in the background and hushed whispers greeted your ears. The buzzing sound was getting closer and closer. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you saw him. 

The glaring white light hid his face from you. All you could see was the olive-green material of his military coat and gloved hands resting on the metal railing of the gurney you were strapped in. 

You blinked once.

There was something about the man that made you want to push past your numb throat to just speak -

“Open your mouth.” One of the figures suddenly spoke, gripping your chin before forcing your face to look upwards at them. They pressed firmly down your chin. 

You stared blankly at the figure, straining to see them through the harsh light. Finally processing their words, you slowly relaxed your jaw. 

As they pushed it in, the rubber material of the mouth guard pressed against your teeth. Sparks of pain erupted from your sore teeth, causing you to groan slightly. However, you heeded their order and bit down on the mouth guard. 

Pain if you complied, pain if you did not. 

A thick leather strap pressed against your forehead as the figure secured it across your head. The once light buzzing in the background grew louder. Instinctively, you tried to jerk your head to the side for the source of the sound. Yet, a white gloved hand forcefully held your jaw, rendering you immobile. 

You could only barely move your head prior to that. The rest of your body was numb to the point you couldn’t even wiggle your toes experimentally. You took a breath through the tube of the mouth guard. 

The buzzing grew stronger and stronger as you felt it hum close to your ears. You moved your head against the strap, barely managing to catch the sight of a crackling paddle out of the corner of your eye. 

The source of the buzzing was coming from it. 

How odd. 

Your breath quickened, coming out in little gasps through the breathing tube. Yet you could find nothing in yourself to fight against the restraints. 

For some inexplicable reason, you found yourself instead staring at the figure of the peculiar man standing at your bedside, his large gloved hands still resting on the rails. You could see his head tilting down to look at you even though the light from above hid his face from view. 

Voices chattered around you in a wordy mess that spiraled into each other. As the light suddenly dimmed, you vaguely noted how he was wearing a gas mask, the kind that easily hid one’s features. You could still make out his grey salt and pepper hair. With nothing better to do, you stared at him curiously.

He was new, after all.

New is good , you thought distantly as the buzzing of the paddles grow closer and closer. Vaguely, you could hear the sound of a switch being flipped and numbers called out in that clinical, concise manner. 

New meant-

“Oh, дорогая моя.”

And then you just saw white.

________________________________________________________________

You didn’t know what to call him. 

Mr. Gas Mask. 

You pondered over the name before sighing.

It was rude to name a person without asking first...right? 

You thought of this while curled up in the corner of your cell. You rocked back and forth every so often. Everything was just too cold or too hot unless you sat in that one corner of the cell where the temperature of the air from the vents didn’t reach you.

You were trying to hum, a few broken notes here and there of a song whose name you couldn’t remember and of a language you didn’t know. The notes died in your throat when you suddenly heard him .

“Вы всегда любили петь. ”

And there he was. 

Mr. Gas Mask. 

You stared up at him from your little corner in the cell, watching for any sign of potential movement from him. The others wore gas masks too. 

As you thought before, he was new.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt you. 

And so you merely watched him. He was leaning against the wall with a rifle in his hands. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you through the lens of his gas mask. 

“Все еще стесняетесь, товарищ?” he said with his voice rather light with amusement. Although, amusement for people meant many different things. The figures in those white coats had sometimes laughed amongst themselves as you convulsed before them on the gurney. 

Thus, you didn’t dare look away from him, trying your best to keep your eyes open.

Looking away could mean pain.

You didn’t want pain. 

Just as you felt your eyes start to water-

You blinked.

Mr. Gas Mask won this round. 

________________________________________________________________

Mr. Gas Mask didn’t like Mr. Smoker’s Voice.

Adler, as the voice referred to himself in the words he read off again and again-

But you just called him by his voice. After all, he talked as if he smoked a dozen chimneys each day. It didn’t get any better when those same words droned on and on and on through the headphones on your ears. 

Your companion was often a rather quiet one. He liked to sit on the cold bed at the side of your cell or lean against the wall while peering down thoughtfully at you. Occasionally, he would make remarks in a language you didn’t understand. 

But when you were hauled into the chair in the sterile white room with all of those television sets, things changed. 

Suddenly, Mr. Gas Mask loved to talk. 

And this time...you understood his words. 

“According to your debrief, you woke up in the middle of a firefight-” Mr. Smoker’s Voice had said, droning on as usual in his usual husky way. He sighed occasionally, perhaps taking drags of his cigarette just like you had seen the guards do. 

“Do not trust Adler, ” Mr. Gas Mask’s voice suddenly interrupted. It was strange, you thought before blinking. It broke your focus on the television sets and the repetitive footage. 

“-defending against VC attack-”

“Do not trust him,” your companion piped in once more, this time his voice more assertive and demanding-

“For fuck’s sake, Bell,” Mr. Smoker’s Voice said annoyedly over your headphones before sighing irritably with the telltale sound of a buzzer going off. You flinched. That meant the figures in white coats were coming. “ Focus,” he warned.

You nodded before turning your attention back to the television sets. It was rather easy to find yourself hazily gazing into the looped footage as Mr. Smoker’s Voice droned on and on about “scripts.”

“Do not listen to Adler-”

As you looked away once more from the television sets, you heard the sound of booted footsteps approaching nearby. You grasped your seat’s armrests. 

That only meant one thing.

You heard another set of heavy footsteps beside you. You looked up at Mr. Gas Mask from your seated place in the chair. 

“У тебя все хорошо. Будь сильным, товарищ,” Mr. Gas Mask said gently, nodding his head slightly down to you. 

It was a small comfort as you found yourself hauled down the same sterile white hallways to the same room and gurney.

...And heard the same buzzing sound approach your head.

And then your vision flashed the same white as it did before. 

________________________________________________________________

You felt your tongue lie dry and limp against the bottom of your mouth while the figures in white coats dragged you down that sterile white corridor yet again. 

Your feet dragged against the floor, creating a squeaking sound that made you twitch minutely as you tried to move .

But you couldn’t.

All you could do was blink, finding yourself on the cold, barren floor of the cell. Everything was white, white, white -

But then you felt something warm trickle down your nose to your lips. You slowly managed to bring a hand to your nose only to pull away and see red blood staining your fingers. 

You felt yourself twitch at the sight, a spasm rocking through your body. You blinked as suddenly you saw red - not white why why why- on the floor. 

You noticed droplets of the crimson warm liquid dripping onto the floor from your nose. You pinched your nose with two fingers before sniffing. 

The floor had to be white, not red. 

Everywhere, you were surrounded in red, red, red -

The sterile white walls slowly but surely became more and more red with blooms of the crimson color coming out in growing splotches on the walls. You felt yourself tremble at the sight. 

It was wrong . 

The walls were bleeding. 

You curled up on the floor with your knees tucked against your chest. You rested your head against your knees with your eyes closed, not even daring to look down at the floor. 

Was the floor bleeding?

Were you bleeding? 

If you looked down at your hands, would they too bleed like those walls? Angry red blooms seeping through your skin out of you-

You felt yourself tremble ever so slightly as you took in little breaths. Your body felt so numb and sluggish that you wondered if it was even yours. It was like a puppet with its strings cut. But who...who was the one pulling the strings?

You tasted a familiar, metallic warm substance in your mouth as you bit into your lip fearfully. 

Everything was familiar but not.

As you shivered in the cold, cold cell, the sound of footsteps echoed on the walls. You didn’t dare look up. Would he be bleeding as well? 

No, no, no , you shook your head. That was wrong . He shouldn’t bleed because-

...why-

Your thoughts were abruptly halted into a sudden quietness by the warm feeling of a large gloved hand cupping your face. You looked up only to find him kneeling down to your level with his hand cupping your face. You couldn’t help but lean into that warmth-

You felt your vision blur as your eyes prickled with heat. Knowing what you would see around you, you threw yourself at him, clutching the olive-green material of his military coat. All you could see was that deep green and thankfully not red.

You felt a shiver wrack your body before you felt yourself begin to relax.

He felt safe,

But why?

...You didn’t know-

Oh, you never knew. 

Once again your thoughts were cut short as you felt him pull away from you. You sighed dejectedly at the sense of loss before you realized you shouldn’t have expected anything like it anyways. 

Suddenly, you felt another hand cup your other cheek. You looked up this time at him, peering up at the cold expressionless gas mask he always wore. The lens were tinted just enough so that you couldn’t see a person inside of them-

And then you heard the footsteps. Those familiar, heavy footsteps that meant heavy batons and the room spinning round and round-

You felt your hands desperately grip his coat, “Please,” you choked out in a plea. But for what? 

You finally felt warm and safe- no pain no pain - 

And that was going to be taken away. 

Yet as the door slammed open with those footsteps entering the room, you felt your hands relax in their grip on his coat. 

A little small whisper inside of you telling you one thing. 

He can’t save you...or rather he won’t. 

This time, you didn’t fight them when they walked you out of that cell. 

You walked with them. 

At least, you knew what you were to them. 

________________________________________________________________

“What is this man you see?” Mr. Smoker’s Voice asked one day. He was different this time. He no longer took those long breaks to likely puff at his cigarette or sigh. 

You shifted uncomfortably in the seat against the leather restraints at your middle and hands. Even so, you found yourself thankful for the restraints. They were like anchors in the room now spinning around you in a crimson spiral. 

“He...told me not to trust you.” you said slowly. You could have sworn you heard the Voice chuckle slightly. But you focused on anxiously looking out for the telltale sound of a buzzer going off. 

Although, it was hard to tell.

The static of the television sets was only getting louder and louder-

And then you saw him.

You looked down guiltily, trying to be as subtle as you could about it. You had to listen to the Voice because otherwise it was just pain, pain, and pain -

“Ты должен быть сильным ,” he said assertively, walking up to you. He looked impossibly tall and large, looming over you like that. He looked down at you once again in that cold, expressionless gas mask. 

You couldn’t understand what he said. 

But you knew what he wanted from you. 

It was always the case because you could never afford to be-

You blinked, trying to find the word right on the tip of your tongue. Struggling with it, you shook your head as best as you could with the restraints to yourself.

And so with an impossibly familiar feeling-

You nodded.

________________________________________________________________

You liked him. 

He was a constant warm presence. 

Always in your cell, your head, your thoughts. 

At the same time though, he was cold.

Oh, you had tried to be strong, looking away every time he spoke despite the Voice demanding otherwise.

Each time Mr. Gas Mask spoke, you looked away.

Each time you looked away, the buzzer went off.

Each time the buzzer went off, you felt your vision go white again and again and again-

He watched with the same cold, expressionless gas mask of his while you writhed and convulsed before him. You stared wildly at him in a silent plea. 

please, please , please -

Yet he only tilted his head slightly as if watching something interesting . You could see your own darkened reflection in that dark reflective lenses of his gas mask. 

...Was he just like them, watching you with that same clinical, detached interest? 

That was your thought every single time you heard the buzzer went off. 

“Bell, listen to me,” you heard Mr. Smoker’s Voice drawl out, “We have a job to do.”

You leaned back against the headrest of the chair you were strapped to. You looked away from the large familiar figure leaning against the wall closest to you. 

You numbly nodded.

Please, please, please just once -

You stared into the television screen. It was a steady, constant presence in the spinning crimson room you always found yourself in here. 

“Do not listen to Adler ,” he suddenly said. You winced at the way he said those words in his accented voice.

He was disappointed. 

But you were tired.

All he did was say those words again and again in the crimson, spinning room you always found yourself alone in with the television sets. He rarely ever said anything to you in the cell, only watching you with that same detached interest. 

...why did they all keep on demanding more and more from you when you had nothing left to give-

You were nothing.

“We have a job to do, Bell.” 

________________________________________________________________

Suddenly, there was less pain. 

Your vision flashed white less, the crimson room spun more slowly in a gentler manner-like a carousel, Bell-and even the Voice seemed less annoyed and demanding than usual. 

Things were good. 

But you no longer saw him.

The Man in the Gas Mask. 

It’s colder now, you had numbly thought one night as you peered at the usual spot he would sit down on your cot. That hollow feeling in your chest you knew too well returned. 

But he still spoke only to remind you again and again about not trusting the Voice. 

"Adler is lying to you ,” he said tellingly with his voice always a little bit louder than usual. Unlike before, his words reverberated through your skull bouncing around in those little echoes. 

Something was different with everyone.

Mr. Smoker’s Voice was happy.

Mr. Gas Mask was not . 

You could nearly hear his displeasure when you walked complacently over to the seat. The room was spinning slowly enough for you to walk by yourself to the seat. The figures in white coats didn’t even bother to strap you in now. 

You looked at the looping footage of the television set as the Voice came over your headphones yet again, a familiar presence as always. 

The Voice was being quite good to you. 

Less pain. 

“He is lying to you,” you heard the voice aggressively say, something almost desperate in his accented voice. You winced with your eyes immediately looking away from the television set to the side, expecting to see the Man in the Gas Mask standing over you, telling you those foreign words again assertively. 

“He is lying to you-” 

And then you heard the bell ring.

You blinked.

Everything was quiet.

Then, the bell rang a second time.

“Look back to the screen. Focus,” The Voice reminded you. 

You blinked, feeling something shift in your being.

...were you forgetting something?

Shaking your head dazedly, you slowly turned your head back to look at the looping footage of the television set in front of you. 

You didn’t know why but you saw the footage of the soldiers and tanks blur. Your eyes prickled from some heated sensation. You felt something wet trail down your cheek in a warm trail. 

“Bell, we have a job to do.” 

________________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @samatedeansbroccoli​ for beta-reading this fic. It really helped me out a lot and I got a lot of great feedback from their suggestions and comments. Thanks for reading!