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pin-k-ink · 13 days

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haze // edogawa ranpo

tw ⇢ highly suggestive themes, smoking, mention of a hangover

wc ⇢ 1k

a/n: a rewrite of smth i wrote nearly two years ago

"Come on. We're already late." Ranpo tried to nudge your half-asleep, hungover form out of the warm cocoon of soft sheets and blankets you had wrapped yourself in. The mattress felt extraordinarily comfortable this morning, especially compared to the prospect of dragging yourself out of bed to face the day. You snuggled in deeper, relishing the coziness enveloping you, reluctant to emerge and silently hoping Ranpo would just leave you be.

Despite his usually carefree, happy-go-lucky demeanor, you could tell Ranpo was on the verge of losing his patience with you. You peeked an eye open to see his right eye twitching in irritation at your blatant ignoring of his promptings.

"I really don't feel up to it today," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the numerous layers of bedding you had burrowed under. With a sigh, you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable again now that your peaceful slumber had been disrupted. You knew you wouldn't be able to drift back to sleep, but you still weren't ready to leave the sanctuary of your bed quite yet.

Ranpo's frustration reaching a boiling point, he grasped the edge of the blankets and swiftly yanked them off of you. "Get up already!" he demanded. But as the covers were peeled back, revealing your scantily clad form, Ranpo's mouth went dry, his grievances momentarily forgotten.

You lay there wearing nothing but a skimpy black lace bra and panties, complete with a garter belt framing your hips and thighs. Having foregone makeup the night before, just a hint of lipstick remained, now smeared seductively around your mouth. Your hair splayed out across the pillow in tousled waves that somehow still looked sexy despite the night spent tossing and turning.

As you stretched languidly, your ample breasts squished together enticingly. Ranpo felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and cup the supple mounds in his hands, to feel your soft flesh against his palms. His eyes travelled lower, taking in the tantalizing expanse of smooth skin, until they landed on an unexpected sight - intricate tattoos adorning your body in various suggestive places. The dark ink stood out in stark contrast to your skin tone. Ranpo felt a hot blush creeping up his neck at the provocative body art.

"Great, now I'm cold," you pouted, looking up at Ranpo through your lashes. He shook his head in disbelief. Even disheveled and halfway to a hangover, you still managed to look drop-dead gorgeous... and to frustrate the hell out of him with your antics.

"Deal with it. Now let's goooo," Ranpo whined, beginning to turn away before his body betrayed his increasing arousal at the alluring sight of you.

"Nah, I'm good here," you replied nonchalantly. Reaching over to your nightstand, you pulled out a half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. In one fluid motion, you slid a cigarette between your full lips and flicked the lighter to life, taking a long drag.

Quick as a flash, Ranpo snatched the cigarette from your mouth and crushed the flimsy pack in his fist. "Fukuzawa told you not to smoke anymore," he reprimanded, coughing and swatting at the tendrils of smoke you blew in his face.

Unperturbed, you maintained a deadpan expression as you reached under the mattress and pulled out one of several hidden packs stashed there. Ranpo caught a glimpse of something else under the bed - was that a vibrator? He blushed even deeper as he registered what the long, purple object was.

Lighting up a new cigarette, you took a deep drag, relishing the burn in your lungs and the lightheaded rush that followed. Sighing in resignation, Ranpo slumped onto the bed next to you, head hanging in defeat. "I give up," he pouted.

"The cigs... are they really that good?" Ranpo asked after a moment, curiosity getting the better of him. You shrugged, not particularly keen to get into your reasons for smoking, especially this early in the morning.

"Can I try it?" You raised an eyebrow at his request. Mr. Sweet Tooth wanting to try a cigarette? This should be interesting.

"Sure, knock yourself out," you replied, handing it over. Ranpo took it eagerly, placing it between his lips and inhaling deeply... only to promptly break out in a fit of coughing and sputtering.

"When I said knock yourself out, I didn't mean literally," you laughed, springing up to rub his back soothingly.

"It's so spicy! Why do you even like these things?" Ranpo rasped out between coughs, clutching at his throat. You flopped back down, considering his question but unwilling to voice the real reasons your addiction had taken hold.

"C'mere," you purred instead, crooking a finger at him. Ranpo leaned in close, his breath catching in his throat as he hovered over you. Your fingers slid into his hair, gripping the back of his head as you pulled him in even nearer until your faces were mere inches apart. Maintaining eye contact, you took another drag from the cigarette, holding the smoke in your mouth.

You traced his bottom lip with your fingertip and he compliantly opened up for you, his tongue peeking out eagerly. Tightening your grip on his hair, you angled his head and slowly blew the smoke directly into his waiting mouth. Ranpo's emerald eyes flew open wide before the pupils blew out with desire. His hands braced on either side of your head as he unconsciously leaned in closer, seeking more of your intoxicating essence.

Releasing him, you dropped your head back against the pillow with a smirk. "How was that?"

It took Ranpo a minute to shake off his lust-induced haze and regain the power of speech. A matching smirk slowly spread across his face as an idea took hold. "You know, maybe we shouldn't go in to work after all..."

#bsd x reader smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #ranpo smut #bsd ranpo #ranpo edogawa #ranpo x reader #ranpo x reader smut

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lacontroller1991 · 7 months

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Baths and Tea (Jonathan Crane x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || MISC Master List

Requested by anon: I wish you would write a fic where Crane takes care of reader when they have a stressful day and he sees they are a bit on edge, I need comfort sorry u.u....

-- Anya 🍓

Author's Note: SO THIS IS MY FIRST CRANE FIC I HOPE I DO HIM JUSTICE

Warnings: just a really really shitty day, mentions of nudity/undressing, language

Word Count: 1.1k

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It all started with a cold bed. You woke up at around 7:30, expecting to cuddle into the side of your boyfriend and go back to sleep only to feel no body presence by your side. You initially shrugged it off and still got out of bed to grab coffee. When you got to the coffee pot you thought it would be hot, but when you took a sip, it was cold.

“You gotta be kidding me.” You had murmured to yourself, eyes rolling at how thoughtful your boyfriend is.

When you managed to get to your class, after missing the bus, you found out that it was canceled and this pissed you off. Normally, professors would send courtesy emails to let students know if the class is canceled but apparently not.

By the time lunch had come around you were already done with the day. To try and lift up your spirits, you decided to go to your favorite lunch spot by campus, hoping that they would have your favorite item on the menu, but just your luck, they didn’t. “This day literally couldn’t get any worse.”

It did. And by the time you got home for the day, you were ready to cry and just bury yourself underneath a pile of blankets. Which is how your boyfriend finds you.

Jonathan typically isn’t the affectionate type. You would even go as far as saying that he doesn’t know what the word affection means. He sometimes wonders why you haven’t left him for someone a little more…warm. Finding you underneath a pile of blankets though? It raises concern in him.

Moving to your side of the bed, he sits on the edge, trying to find your face under the mound but failing to do so. Instead, he pulls back the covers only to find your eyes puffy and tears running down your face.

“Dove? What’s wrong?” Despite the words of concern, they sound apathetic, and you instantly notice.

“Why do you even care?” The abrasiveness of your comment causes him to jolt back. He definitely did not expect that from you. He tries to think of what to do. It’s clear that you’ve had a rough day and he wants to make it better. Nodding his head tersely, he leaves your side and goes to the kitchen.

Not even 5 minutes later he's walking back into the room, a cup of hot tea in his hands. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed again, he lightly nudges you causing you to push the blankets away and look up at him through tear soaked lashes.

“I made you your favorite tea.” He offers the tea to you and you take it from him, savoring the warmth that the cup provides, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What did you put in it?”

“Nothing that I wanted to,” he tries to make a joke about his work, but he gathers it’s not the right crowd right now. “Do you want to talk about your day?”

You take a sip of the tea, letting the warm drink soothe your throat and warm your body. You can’t deny that him making you tea did boost your mood slightly. People often ask you why you’re with Jonathan Crane of all people. He’s cold. Calculative. Creepy. Apathetic. But none of those things really bother you. You try to focus on the good in him, and it’s moments like this that make you glad that you’ve stayed with him, even if he is a challenge.

“It’s just you weren’t here this morning and didn’t bother heating up some coffee. Then I was late to class because the bus system fucking sucks and it was all a mute point because class was cancelled anyways. I tried getting my favorite lunch but they were out of it, and when I chose another option, my card declined. Then when I went to my other class we got our exams back and I didn’t do as well as I wanted to. When I got home I got an email saying that the job I had applied for was now occupied and they don’t need me. To make matters worse, the same asshole professor that randomly canceled class just posted a new assignment that’s due tomorrow and it’s supposed to be 8 pages long. A research paper. Due tomorrow.” You start to cry again and Jonathan takes the drink out of your hands, setting it to the side before pulling you into his arms as best as he can. Even though he is a trained psychologist and an active psychiatrist, he doesn’t know what to do.

“That sounds horrible. I’m sorry.” He comments nonchalantly while stroking your hair softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you begin to calm down, nuzzling into him lightly.

“It is horrible. I just want today to be over.” Jonathan pulls away and hands you back your drink before standing to his full height and disappearing into the bathroom. You try to move your head and see what he’s doing, but it becomes obvious when you hear the bathtub faucet running. Jonathan appears a second later and offers you a hand. Taking his hand, he pulls you out of bed and towards the bathroom where you see the tub being filled with water and bubbles? “Jonathan?”

“Why don’t you get in the bath and I’ll run down to that Chinese place you like to grab some dinner. Does that work?” He stands slightly awkwardly as a smile creeps its way onto your face. Again, it’s moments like these where you really love him.

“Can you stay with me? I really want some physical affection.” He nods his head and begins to strip while you watch with a smirk on your face. Upon realizing that you’re staring at him, he looks at you through his glasses.

“Aren’t you going to get undressed?”

“Mmhmm I’m just enjoying the view.” He doesn’t make a comment as he watches you undress and slip into the tub before joining you, awkwardly positioning himself behind you as you lean back into him. “This is really nice.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day,” he comments more sincerely this time, pushing your hair aside and pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder, causing you to shiver.

“You’re making it better.” He smiles against your skin as his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him.

“I’m glad to hear that. Do you want me to kill the professor?” He’s 98% serious and you know it.

“Jonathan,” you warn as he lets out a chortle.

“What? I was only kidding.” A moment of silence. “Partially.”

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #Cillian Murphy #batman begins #dr jonathan crane #dc movies #why is Jonathan crane so hot #jonathan crane fanfic #reader insert

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ominous-auburn-orbs · 5 months

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Gay people real?!?

Can i get a burger extra cheese

Or if you dont have that

A kingleader fic about Caine just,,, wearing kingers robe (assuming he has more than one) and kinger catching him red-handed ——> fluff ensues

I have shart block so i’ll prolly draw it too (if it’s okay wit u tho)

Thamk you 🫶

I do not have a burger, no, but I do have some gays.

Anyone making art about anything I write ever makes me the world's happiest guy so if you wanna draw it then fuck yeah draw it

Caine quietly opened the door to Kinger's room. He knew the chess piece was in his smaller, separate fortress near the stage, so he decided to use this opportunity to his advantage.

Moving further in, Caine scanned the room for anything resembling a closet, but found only the large pillow fort that took up near the entire room. Maybe it was in there, along with likely everything Kinger owned. He really could've just had a room made of pillows in the first place, all he had to do was ask...

Pushing some of the pillows aside, Caine went inside and found a lot more than what he expected to. The place was larger than what it had looked like and had an abundance of furniture and decorations. It was rather nice. He couldn't help but run his hands along most of it, lingering on the bed specifically for probably longer than what would be considered normal.

Remembering why he was there to begin with, he floated over to the closet and pulled open the doors. Inside were about five identical purple robes. Perfect.

It was at this point where he hesitated. Would this be wrong? He was in a relationship with Kinger at this point, and he wasn't doing anything inherently weird. He just wanted to try on one of the robes, then he'd put it right back.

He pulled one of the robes off of its hanger. Caine examined it as he held it in his hands. It was soft. He opened the robe and placed it on his shoulders, feeling himself being weighed down by it. From where he was floating, the bottom of it brushed against the floor.

As he pulled it closer to himself, he felt a pleasant warmth rise in his face. The robe felt comforting and nice. It felt like Kinger. So absorbed was Caine in the robe's feel and the thoughts of Kinger it provoked, he didn't hear the door creak open further nor the shuffling of pillows being moved aside.

"Caine, what are you doing?" The ringmaster startled, both of them yelling in surprise. His blush worsened exponentially. He had forgotten to close the door, and now he had to face the consequences.

"W-well, uh, you see, I've always wanted to- to try on one of your robes. They've always looked-" His eyes wandered along the robe Kinger wore now, "felt, so soft."

"Couldn't you have just spawned one in instead of trying to sneak in here?"

"I suppose, but..." He faltered, attempting to find the words that would make his feelings make sense. "It just isn't the same! That would just be another robe, these are your robes, y-you wore them, they, um, smell like... you."

"...Caine, you don't have a nose." Kinger was touched by the sentiment regardless, despite how little sense it made.

"I know I don't, let me be romantic!" The chess piece chuckled, putting a hand on Caine's face which he immediately leaned into.

"Alright, then. You know you really could've just asked for one of my robes, I would've given it to you. You look cute in it anyway." Kinger caressed the ringmaster's gums, his voice lowering somewhat. "I like seeing you in my clothes."

He felt Caine's face start to burn up against his palm along with hearing a quiet dial-up sound. "A-ah- I didn't know you'd- uh-"

Kinger pressed his face to Caine's teeth and smiled. "You don't need to be so sneaky with this. Feel free to steal from me whenever you want."

Caine took his word for it, which resulted in multiple morning greetings starting with the ringmaster being weighed further down to the ground by a large purple robe. Jax would snicker and nudge Kinger, but the chess piece would never be listening, his eyes trained solely on the main thing that made his digital life worth living.

#caine x kinger #royalteeth #kinger x caine #kingleader #they're both so gay god damn

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konigsblog · 9 months

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I’m on my way home from a long ass bar shift and when I saw the notif that requests were back on 👀👀👀

How we feeling about Stepdad!Price and Stepbro!Gaz?

tw; stepcest.

your mum divorced your dad years ago, you didn't think that she'd marry again, up until she introduced you to her new husband. you felt wet when around him, feeling guilty for wearing revealing and skimpy clothing around him, going behind your mothers back. one night at dinner, your mother talked about her going on a business trip for work, leaving you three alone for two weeks.

she left the next morning, and suddenly your stepdad began acting more touchy, a lot more. infact, whilst you were making dinner for them, he came behind you and grabbed you by the pussy, whispering something in your ear, the nicotine from his breath lingering. or when he pulled you onto his lap, cupping your jaw and making out with you, one hand slowly riding up your thighs. his finger nudged at your clothed cunny, teasing you for being so wet despite barely doing anything :( “so wet, mm', bet you'd love my face between those thighs..”

or when you were getting ready for bed, you woke up to your stepbrother jerking off while leaning over your face. he'd pried your jaw open, stroking his lengthy dick and grunting quietly. “fuck-..fuck-” he didn't even stop when you woke up, telling you to be quiet so that his dad wouldn't wake up and catch him :( he fisted his sticky and hard length, shooting cum all over your face and covering you in semen :(((

calling price to pick you up from a party because you felt sick :( you didn't tell him why you were ill, but he could tell you'd been smoking weed and doing other drugs. he was pissed, he'd prefer if you'd done it in the house, but instead, you went out with some collage boys and your friends and got high and drunk!! punishing you by throatfucking you, he talked about throat training you briefly whenever your mum was away, finally fucking into your mouth!!! but you were inexperienced, you didn't know how to give a blowjob and he hadn't taught you anything other than to relax your throat :((( “fuck, relax your throat, baby.. jus' like that, good girl..”

#tw stepcest #stepcest cw #orla speaks #captain price #john price #price #captain john price #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #gaz smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz #john price x you #john price x female reader #john price x y/n #female reader #female insert

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txtscenarios · 2 years

Text

jealous hueningkai /

rating: explicit

an: was gonna turn this into a fic but i think it's best like this! thank u @hyukalovie for putting this idea into my brain <3 gender neutral reader to the best of my ability

kai doesn't get jealous often, and as his partner, you're appreciative of that. he is kind, always trying to be respectful of your feelings, and your space.

besides, he's away often (his career comes first and foremost), and he's grateful for how supportive you are of him despite his busy schedule. he tries to give you the same energy in return.

but there are moments in time; brief, flittering things, when his stomach twists unpleasantly as you giggle at a text on your phone, or fall into beomgyu's side-hugs a little too easily.

they're not much, not big enough to even make a fuss over, but they're there, stewing.

so when he wakes up one morning after the two of you spent the previous night cuddling in his bed, kissing lazily, touching, only to hear beomgyu say that you left in a hurry, he frowns. his eye twitches, barely. slightly. you aren't supposed to have any plans today– you'd told him so against his throat last night, quiet like a promise.

he texts you a question; where are u?

your answer, having lunch with an old friend! <img. attached> does not soothe him the way he anticipated it would, because he recognizes the person leaning into you, beaming at the camera. an ex– from your high school, maybe. but an ex nonetheless.

he leaves you on read. showers, brushes his teeth. he stares into the bathroom mirror, brows pinched, and sighs at himself. he's not like this, is not a jealous person, but you're having lunch with your ex, who is just as attractive as kai physically. he's not a jealous person, but you're wearing that shirt he likes you in, the one that makes your waist look good, and the necklace he bought you for your birthday last year. he's not a jealous person, but his stomach swoops and his throat tightens, and he unlocks his phone to send you a text; come over when u can.

you respond with a frowny face, and then, no emoticons...are u okay?

he doesn't reply to that, either, instead going to sit on the couch, futile attempts to beat beomgyu at video games just pissing him off more. his head isn't in the game, and beomgyu takes one look at him after his third loss in a row and declares, "alright, everyone round up, we're going out to lunch! except you," he nudges kai with his shoulder, "because you clearly need time alone."

when the dorm is empty, quiet dredging into his bones, kai starts to get antsy. there's been no word from you, no indication that you'll be arriving soon. he can't text you again; that'd make him look desperate. he has to be patient.

he starts pacing the room, unable to keep still.

what if you're linking up with this ex because you missed them? what if they missed you, or worse, still have feelings for you? if they confessed, would you go back to them? would you consider it?

he worries his bottom lip so hard it starts to bleed, so lost in his thoughts that he almost doesn't notice the front door knob turning.

when you step through the door, he freezes. you've got a little smile on your face, cheeks pleasantly flushed from summer's heat. you kick your shoes off, barely looking at him as you tap away on your phone, and–

he reaches you in one, two, three strides. you startle, phone clattering to the floor, and he uses your surprise to back you up against the door, boxing you in.

"kai?" you ask, soft. worried. "are you alright? you seemed...upset in the texts."

he mulls over what he wants to say. he doesn't know how to put his feelings into words, isn't able to properly express the jealousy and possession brewing in his stomach.

so, he grabs your chin gently between his fingers, tilting your head back so that you're forced to look up at him.

"you went out with your ex and didn't tell me," he says, careful, calculated. probably colder than what you're used to, but he's trying not to let his emotions rule him, and this is the best he can do.

"i put it in your calendar weeks ago," you say quietly, pouting. "i forgot it was today until i got a text this morning. i didn't want to wake you."

the revelation cools his skin a little as he realizes you weren't intentionally keeping anything from him, but the urge to be closer, to make you realize that you're his is still there, burning bright and hot at the tips of his fingers.

"mine," he murmurs, quiet, eyes falling shut. when he looks at you again, you're frowning, brows pinched. "you're mine," he repeats, louder this time, firmer.

you still beneath him, lids fluttering. "oh," you breathe, "you're jealous–"

he kisses you before you can finish your sentence, mouth mashed to yours, teeth clanking. you gasp against him and he swallows it up quickly, tongue slipping past your lips. you're struggling to keep up, taken aback by his urgency. he knows that this is probably a lot to deal with, knows that he usually isn't like this.

he pulls back to look at you, panting from the kiss, and asks, "are you okay?"

you nod, once, jerky. "yeah, just– are you mad at me? i don't-"

"not mad," he shakes his head. his fingers twitch, thumb and pointer holding your chin. he wants to hold you close, touch you the way that only he's allowed to, take you–

he says, "i need you, right now. is that alright?" he's always going to ask first, always going to make sure you're on board.

your pupils grow large, swallowing up your irises, and you nod. whisper a dry, "yes." and that's all the permission he needs.

he dives in, mouthing at your neck, teeth finding your skin. he bites too hard, laps and licks to make up for it, fingers curling round your hips all the while.

he's hard against your stomach, pressing close, closer, and he makes quick work of your clothes, leaving you bare in front of him. his cheeks are warm, burning red at the sight of you, and he smooths the tips of his fingers over your chest, down to your tummy.

he kicks off his sweatpants, hoodie following. when he's in his boxers, cock straining against the material, you instinctively reach down to palm at him, but he's quick to snatch your wrist, pinning it to the wall.

"you just stand here and look pretty," he tells you, low. "i'm gonna do all the work, gonna make sure you know you're mine, okay?"

you're breathless, chest rising and falling fast as you nod. he smiles, soft, a little bit wicked, and hikes one of your legs up to his hip, holding it in place.

with his free hand, he twists at one of your nipples until it's stiff and puffy and flushed. you writhe against him, hips canting forward. he knows what you're asking for silently. he wants it as well.

"open," he orders, fingers prodding at your lower lip. you let your mouth fall open, and he swoops three inside immediately, long and lithe, pressing down against your tongue in a way that nearly makes you gag around him.

when he's pleased, cheeks ruddy, he slides his fingers free, moving to press them against your opening. he considers sliding in all three in one go; knows you could take it, but he's not that cruel. he starts with two, sliding into you easily, twisting as they press against your walls.

making you feel good is at the back of his mind. he wants to please you, but more than anything, he needs to be inside of you. needs to feel the point where the two of you connect.

he makes quick work of stretching you open, adding a third finger after a couple of minutes. you writhe against his hand, subtly pushing down to get more of him, clenching around his fingers when he scissors them just so.

his own cock is hard, leaking precome through his boxers and making your stomach sticky, and it's when your fingers slide through his hair as you mutter a heady, "please," that he snaps. can't take it anymore.

he doesn't bother kicking his boxers off all the way; doesn't have the patience. he reaches down, freeing his cock, and holds tight to your thigh to keep you in place as he lines himself up to your entrance.

the stretching was hasty at best, and he's bigger than average, maybe– he doesn't know, but you always seem to struggle to adjust. this time is no different. he pushes in past the initial tightness, head of his cock velvety smooth against your insides. he doesn't stop there– keeps going, going, until he's bottomed out and his chest heaves as he tries to calm himself down.

your eyes are pinched shut tight, clinging to his shoulders, fingernails leaving crescents into his skin. he doesn't ask if he can move because he knows you're still adjusting, knows it takes some time, but you give a little nod and say, "move, kai," and he stops thinking. doesn't ask questions anymore.

he thrusts once, shallow. testing the waters. when you don't ask him to stop, he pulls out halfway, pushing back in deep. a sound works its way up your throat, small and wanton, and so he pulls out all the way, only the head of his cock left inside of you, and pushes in hard. fast.

you gasp, jerking up the wall at the force of his movements. you clench around him, so tight and hot.

he can't control himself anymore.

he grabs your other leg, hoisting you up so that your feet dangle, back pressed against the wall. with you as leverage, he thrusts into you as fast as he can manage, cock dragging thick and heavy along your insides.

he grunts, lost in the feeling, sweat beading at the back of his neck. he's so deep, goes so far, head of his cock bulging your belly when he angles himself just right. you just take it, letting him use you, and he buries his face in your neck, a string of curses falling past his lips.

by his feet lie the shirt you wore to lunch with your ex, the one he likes you in so much, the one he tells you you look good in all the time. his stomach knots up, throat tight, and he bites down hard on the curve of your throat, leaving teeth marks behind as he fucks into you.

"mine," he says, rough. he clears his throat, looking up at you. "you're mine," he repeats. his hips kick, cock drilling into you as hard as he can manage, and he knows the both of you will be bruised come the morning. "you can– fuck, you can go out to lunch with whoever, but you always come home to me." you moan, nodding fast, and his cock twitches inside of you. "you only let me fuck you like this, okay? only me."

"only you," you agree. your hands slide up, slinking into his hair, and you pull at it. you know the pain gets him going, and the more you tug at it, the harder his thrusts get.

his fingers hold tight to your thighs, keeping you in place. he moans, loud and clear and high against your neck, your shoulder, your cheek as he pushes in, in, in.

"you're gonna let me come first," he tells you, no room for argument in his voice. "you're gonna let me fill you up until my come is dripping down your thighs, and only then are you allowed to finish. do you understand?"

you nod, head thrown back as you lose yourself in the steady rhythm of his hips, but he wants an answer; wants your voice. with his hands full of your thighs, he can't very well use them, so instead, he rams his cock in, hard, as deep as he can get it, hips rolling.

you cry out at the sensation, too full, fingers scraping at his scalp.

"answer me," he tries again. "i said, do you understand?"

"i understand," you rush out, breathy and quiet. "please, kai, keep going. need you, need your cock–"

he groans, head falling forward, cock jerking inside of you. his arms are hurting, legs cramping, so he gently lets you down, sliding all the way out of you. the sudden cold enveloping his cock is torture, and he's quick to gently urge you to the floor, back pressing into the hardwood as he hovers over you, arms boxing you in on either side.

he slides back in easily, your heat accommodating his size perfectly now.

like this, he's able to dig his knees into the floor and push into you just the way he likes, hard enough that you slide along the floor. he holds to your hip with one hand to keep you in place, cock thrusting in, out, in, out, faster, harder, deeper until he feels like all he knows is your hole, the way it holds tight to his cock, and the tight heat within you.

"'m close," he tells you. you nod, eyes blurry with tears from the overwhelming pleasure, and you keep clenching around him more and more, ever tighter. he fixes you a warning look. "you aren't allowed to come until i finish. don't even think about-"

"i'm just so close," you tell him, voice raw. wrecked from moaning. "kai, i can't–"

he tsks, head tilting to the side once. his thrusts slow. "if you can't listen, then you don't deserve to be fucked, do you?"

he pulls out swiftly, cock falling free, and you cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.

"kai, no," you sniffle. "come back, i can-"

he shakes his head, left hand coming to cover your mouth, silencing you.

"getting fucked is a reward, love," he says. "i told you not to come until i did, but you were having trouble controlling yourself. so, we'll do this the old fashioned way."

you want to ask what he means, but his hand is still clamped over your mouth tight. he moves up to his knees, and takes his cock in his right hand, fucking into the ring of his fingers.

you're left to watch, unable to take your eyes off of him, unable to speak as he pleasures himself. his hand twists, palm catching the crown, thumb digging into the slit on every upstroke. he moves his fist fast, so much so that the movement blurs.

"close," he tells you, voice strained and rough and low. you whine, hips canting up towards him, and he moves to press one of his knees atop your thigh, pinning you down. he fixes you with a glare, half-hearted, and says, "don't move. 'm gonna come on your pretty tummy, okay?"

his hips rock forward, cock pushing up into his hand as his movements speed up, becoming more erratic. his stomach flexes, twitching, and precome spills down his fingers sticky and clear.

"fuck," he whispers, sharp. his cock twitches within the circle of his hand, and he thumbs at the head, the slit, pressure tightening as his stomach twists with pleasure. "fuck, i-"

all the air whooshes from his lungs in a second, and he's breathless, silent as he comes ropes of white, shooting from his cock and landing haphazardly on your belly, your chest, your thighs. he works himself through it fast, and then slows once the feeling is too much. he comes more than either of you previously thought was possible. leaves white dripping down your sides, and pooling in your bellybutton.

once he's finished, breathing ragged as he sucks in air through his mouth, he wastes no time in swiping three fingers through the mess of come on your stomach, and pushing them back inside of you.

your back arches, a sob falling from your mouth as you're left to do nothing but take what he has to give. his pace is brutal, more so than it was with his cock, and though his fingers aren't quite as thick or long, he knows exactly how to twist and curl them to have you falling apart around him.

he moves down, mouth finding you, tongue lapping at your entrance as his fingers slide in, out. he puts himself to work, taking you in his mouth, tonguing at your sex until your caught between riding down on his fingers and pushing up into his mouth.

he lets you use him, lets you tangle your hands in his hair and turn his head this way and that, whichever way you like. his fingers never cease; rhythm impeccable even as he's multi-tasking, and you thank your lucky stars for his musical talent.

it's when he slides his pinky in alongside his other fingers, the stretch raw and sharp, that you feel your orgasm sneak up on you as if it were waiting in the shadows for the right moment to strike.

he hums against you, tongue still working tenfold, giving you vague permission to finish.

you gasp, sharp, holding his head in place as your hips roll up, up, into his mouth. your thighs twitch, stomach flexing, and you come hard, come so much that your eyes white out and fuzz over. he merely takes it, lapping at you, swallowing everything you have to offer without so much as batting an eye.

when you're finished, sensitive and spent, he keeps going, fingers flexing inside of you, mouth sucking at your pleasure. you whine, nudging him with your thigh, and he moves back to give you some space, fingers sliding out of you.

he looks down at you, back pressed to the floor, chest heaving as you catch your breath. you're covered in his come, backs of your thighs and your ass already bruising from his thrusts into you, his hipbones sharp against your skin. you are messy and sticky and beautiful, and he feels his heart swell in his chest. feels his throat tighten, just a little.

"let me clean you up," he whispers, so soft you almost miss it. you grab hold of his wrist before he can leave, a question in your eyes. "i'm not mad that you went out to lunch with your ex. you're allowed to be friends with whoever you want, i just– i got jealous. wanted to make sure you remembered that i love you, and that what we have is special."

"well, i'll have these bruises for the next week or so to remind me. after that," you tease, low, "i might forget."

kai grins, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple.

"well," he says, soft. smiling. "i'll just have to make sure they never fade, then."

and that's more than okay with the both of you.

an: not betad as usual! /

#hueningkai #huening kai scenarios #hueningkai smut #txt scenarios #txt smut #hueningkai scenarios #huening kai #huening kai imagines #hueningkai x reader #m.fics

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thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

one last time - c.pulisic

masterlist

requested: n

parings: Christian pulisic x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of oral + mentions of nudity

a/n: inspired by the new picture of him being seen at the Chelsea match because I can’t get it out of my head

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

“don’t do it.” he heard your faint raspy morning voice from the bedroom. he took a step away from the bathroom mirror to see you reaching for him practically on the edge of the bed. you knew exactly what he was going to do and you weren’t ready for it. you weren’t ready for the beard to go away.

sighing now, he made his way into the bedroom to meet your demands and give you a morning kiss. your hands held his prickly cheeks, rubbing your thumbs up and down the little hairs, “don’t do this to me.” you dramatically groaned.

he chuckled, your hands didn’t leave his face despite how irritating it was for him. he could never shave with you present. he ended up having to shave when you went to your flat or when you went to classes. he couldn’t bare to see the sad disappointed look on your face.

“it’s itchy, baby. I can’t stand it anymore.” he tried to remove your hands from his face, but you pulled him to your face so your lips met his with a hard passionate kiss. your hands left his face, grabbing his shirt collar, pulling him back into bed with you.

“well then at least do me a favor one last time.” you whispered against the crook of his neck nibbling on his exposed skin. he’s never seen you this needy so early on in the morning, but he didn’t mind. he owed you the pleasure if he was going to break your heart by shaving.

“anything for you, love.” his lips trailed down your exposed skin, his hands were quick to pull down your pajama shorts. his fingers felt the wet fabric that clung to your pussy. he couldn’t believe how damp you were already. it wasn’t even 10am and you were dripping at the seams.

laying on your back, you spread your legs open for him he pulled them over his shoulders before diving in. you could feel the prickly hair on his face against your thighs. oh how you were going to miss that feeling.

his tongue danced every inch of every fold before finding the clit. he barely nudged it before earning himself a loud moan. you wanted to shove his face further in with just how good he was making you feel. you could feel your inner thighs burning from his facial hair, but god it felt good.

“more,” you begged, your fingers interlaced in his curly hair, and he didn’t stop at your demands. the hairs rubbing against your thighs were much more aggressive now, and you couldn’t hold back your moans. his mouth was met with cum not long after. he made sure to nuzzle his face in between your thighs one more time before picking his head up to see you hair sprawled over the pillows and your chest was visibly rising and falling.

he couldn’t wipe the smirk off of his face before getting up to get you a towel. he cleaned you up before making his way back into the bathroom and you heard the shaving cream can.

letting out a satisfied sigh, you decided to fall back asleep, “till next time.”

#christian pulisic #imagines #football imagines #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you #Christian pulisic imagine #chelsea #football blurb #football fic #christian pulisic one shot #football smut

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friendlyengie · 4 months

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I would love to hear ur hcs about the mercs sleeping habits (including ur OCs ofc)

ive always wanted To draw something for this but ive never had the like. Idea to do it in a way that would land the punchline. But basically on their days off I think Engineer is up until sunrise and Demo sleeps until sunrise and they sometimes catch each other in the middle but otherwise they wont see each other until theyre forced to start waking up at the same time again for work.

Anyways . Specifics. Hm.

Medic- trying to write this out for him I’m torn between “despite the way he is, Medic’s sleep schedule is shockingly consistent” and “he surgically removed the need for sleep out of his brain when joining Mann Co. and now sleep is like a recreational activity for him.” I genuinely think it could go either way.

Sniper- sleeps a solid 8 hours and still manages to pass out standing up during mission briefings. I don’t think his sleep is particularly pleasant, easily startled due to spy anxiety. But during his inappropriately timed naps? He could sleep through the base exploding probably.

Scout- Shockingly well put together morning person if he gets to sleep on time. Usually the second person up after Soldier to go on a morning run and shit. But if his sleep schedule is thrown an hour off track it all goes out the window. Drag his out of bed and he goes right to the couch and back to bed.

Heavy- With the way he lived growing up I could see him really having trouble with sleeping. Not easily startled, but very restless. Type of guy to occasionally have a “Something is Very Wrong” instinct kick in at 3 am and is perfectly aware that trying to get back to bed afterwards is a lost cause, so he’s learned to commit and has a handful of things that he does to pass the time instead.

Engineer- great at giving well thought out advice on why sleep is important, follows it unless he doesn’t. Celebrates his ability to keep himself on a good sleep schedule for a few weeks by letting himself go multiple days with no sleep if he feels like it’ll be “useful” for whatever he’s working on. Started to cap himself off at a 72 hour maximum after a 5-day streak resulted in the genius decision making that went into getting drunk and lobbing off his hand (And then remembering he probably should’ve had Medic around, or a proper gunslinger prototype built before doing so.)

Pyro- probably sleeps but always seems strangely and immediately attentive if you go to wake them up.

Demoman- respects his sleep schedule and expects you to as well. Fuck your all nighters, he knows how comfortable his bed is and he’s taking it. Hours vary depending on how much he’s been drinking, which will also determine how well he participates in the “guy who can just kind of fall asleep anywhere” club.

Spy- I feel like the only thing worse than sleep paranoia about spies is being a Spy trying to have a proper sleep schedule. Less as a result of his current job and more as a result of the many jobs hes taken in the past, I’d think Spy’s developed serious paranoia to letting his guard down in most regards, sleep included. Smoking supposedly “helped” the issue way in the beginning, most definitely just exasperates the issue now. Usually walks around the base with clear intent as to not be heard by anyone, so he’s probably got most of them convinced he sleeps pretty routinely.

Soldier- Consistently, on the dot, like clockwork. Not always the first to bed, but always the first to wake up. Wouldn’t wake up if you launched a bomb through his window but if you tried to gently nudge him to wake him up he would attack you like an enemy combatant and now you have to fight him and win.

#Dont have any specific thoughts on my ocs atm but I appreciate the thought :)#tf2 #Asks

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itsgrimeytime · 6 months

Text

The Nurse (Part Fourteen) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14...

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @hopefulatrocity @fuseburner @idkseraphine @emo-potato-virgil @mcuclintasha @8crazy-freak8 @peepeepoopoobutt @crazyunsexycool @alixxhere @allthetroubleiveseen @dxrkymxrchy @taylormarieee @maackiimoo

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: mentions of death, survival instinct, injury pain, gun violence (just violence in general), gunshot wounds, swearing, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: I just thought he looked pretty here tbh. So, that's my reasoning. Hope you enjoy lovelies !! Thanks for reading !!!]]

Something was bothering you, you laid in your bed at night -staring up at the ceiling like it would help you eventually get to sleep. It didn't, nothing did.

You were up and walking before you could think any different, feet dragging along the concrete, as you stepped outside -eyes a wonder as you peered out into what you recognized to be the early mornings.

You remembered why, as you sat out there -chill making goosebumps all along your arms, why you knew such an arbitrary feeling.

It was after your first ever shift as a nurse, you'd been on trauma which was packed full almost every hour. You didn't have a break until 2 am the next day, and when you finally left the third day, it was early.

You spun around in a circle, breathing in the fresh air like it was water and you were in the desert. It kinda felt like that. Your friend, you couldn't remember their name now, had laughed and joined you.

"Freedom!" you yelled out, and took a big swig of your coffee -more of a habit at this point.

"How much coffee have you had?" she asked, swinging the keys around her fingers, eyebrows furrowed.

"Too much," you answered and got into the car.

You sighed, rubbing your arms up and down your sides -the chill of the night was strong then. It was something you felt comfortable with, even despite your lack of sleep -you knew these mornings. They were familiar.

Your eyes landed along the fence, watching the walkers -a few of them seemed to sense you, even from far away. Head tilted, skin decomposed, jaw thrashing you merely looked, eyes lashing along the skin. There was something in you merely disgusted that you were used to them, used to it all.

You remembered the first time you'd ever seen one, scared and curious all in one. And the second, the fear, the grief, the loss-

And then they were everywhere. Everywhere you looked.

"Hey."

You startled in place, something shocked in your bones, and you matched his eyes. It was Rick, wondrously tired Rick with a heavy sort of look in his blue eyes, curls a bit off, and voice a grumble in his throat.

"Hey," you finally responded, tightening your arms over your sides -the chill shaking through your bones, "-you okay?"

"'Could ask you the same," he echoed trailing near you for a second, eyes lingering on your arms -where you rubbed absentmindedly, "-Ya cold?"

"You're not?" you laughed, slightly.

"'Can fix it," he muttered, slowly -sleep slurred and something in your heart warmed, "-C'mere."

You moved to him, and he, with ease, wrapped around your back -strong arms meeting around your waist and head nudged on top of your own. He pressed a simple kiss to the top of your head, rubbing into your hair with his chin -sleepily.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," you hummed, gathering your arms onto his, "-always better."

"What are ya doin' up?"

"Can't sleep," you answered, dancing with his sort of gentle sway, "-I just... Every time I close my eyes, I see..."

You fell silent, you didn't need to finish it. He knew.

"Y'er not there anymore," he hummed, pushing his lips to kiss your head again -tightening his arms just slightly, "-I'll do whatever you need for me to prove it to ya."

"I know I am," you sighed into the press of his lips, "-I just keep thinking that he might... that he might come back."

"If he does," Rick echoed, something cold and distant, "-you're not alone. I won't let 'im touch ya, or anyone."

"Rick, you can't-" you started, turning towards him in your grip, "-you can't promise that."

He looked at you for a foggy moment, soft eyes bubbling over your skin, a gentle sort of gaze fuzzy -something flashed in his eyes, "You think he's really coming back, don't ya?"

He could read you like a book, you couldn't sleep -all you could think about was him coming back and taking what he would've earlier. If you hadn't stepped up, what he would've taken, all the lives-

Something in your stomach twisted.

"He's not finished here," you echoed, a little lost, "-I just. I know he isn't and I'm..." Scared, your brain finished.

He'd take you first, you just knew it. Kill you in front of everybody or make you watch, it was personal. So, so personal.

"Stop thinkin' too hard," he hummed, using his hands to wipe away the creases along your eyebrows, "-I can see it."

"I can't," you frowned, "-I can't get it out of my head."

He frowned for a moment, before leaning forward, kissing your cheeks with languid little movements -eyes piercing over your face.

"I wish I could make ya feel better," he spoke genuinely, in the low timber of the early morning, "-I wish so badly I could help you. Take it all away."

"Rick," you breathed out, smiley, "-whatever you're doing it's not working."

"Sure 'bout that?" He asked, kissing over your pulse -racing in your chest, he certainly could feel it, "'Cause I think it's helpin'."

You laughed, moving your chin to give him more access -eager to feel the burn of the stubble on your skin. Anywhere. It's like you remember him for every second he wasn't there -wonderful sort of buzz, "Can't argue with that one, Sheriff."

He laughed, a light press of his lips to your jaw, "Look at me, darlin'."

And so, you did.

Rick held your chin with his hand -gentle with calloused fingertips, "I won't let 'im hurt you."

"Rick..." you echoed.

"No, I," he spoke, cradling your face, "-I need ya to know. I know you said you can't let me, but you have to know that I can't let you."

"Let me what?"

"Do it again," he hummed, something far off and distant, "-ya can't do it again. Sacrifice yourself, I won't- Look, I can't."

You frowned, cradling your fingertips under his cheekbones, "I'm right here."

"I know," he grumbled, "-I know."

You took your hands to trail over his skin dusting along the stubble, holding his face in your hands -you spoke what you felt, "I love you."

"I love you too," he echoed, soft and slow -you watched the words rumble out of his lips, "-so much."

"So much," you smiled, leaning your head forward onto his shoulder -warmth taking over your skin, you distantly wished you could stay here forever. You yawned into his skin, and you knew he felt it.

"C'mon, darlin'," he pulled you back but didn't let go of your hand -intertwining your fingers, "-let's go to bed."

"I can't," you resisted, "-I can't sleep without the-"

"You're not goin' alone," he hummed, "-come lay with me."

You laughed, a bit in disbelief, "In the prison bed?"

"Yeah," he smiled, pulling you further, "-'m sure we can both fit. Not like I want ya too far anyway."

You laughed harder, "Whatever you say, cowboy. I'm not gonna complain-"

"Good," he grumbled out and guided you back inside.

The peace was good while it lasted...

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #the nurse #nurse!reader #doctor!reader

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omiiverse · 1 year

Text

mistletoe - ominis guant x (f) reader

cw: unedited, friends to lovers, kissing, fluff

A blanket of snow covered the grounds of Hogwarts. Despite the biting chill in the air, its hallways were bustling with students; many anticipating the winter holidays. Everyone was excited to return home.

Everyone except you.

While Poppy prattled on fervently about her Gran’s recent bowtruckle encounter, bless your heart, your mind wandered elsewhere. You couldn’t help it. The constant “what if’s” pestering your mind as you recall the letter that you received from your mother. She wrote to you with a “heavy heart” informing you that her recent assignment would keep her away from home. Enjoy Christmas at Hogwarts; her scribbled words reminding you once again that you wouldn’t be alone.

five days prior

“It’ll be nice to have a friend,” a soft smile dawns on Ominis’ lips, as if he’s pleased with the thought.

“You aren’t going home?” The quill in your hand comes to a pause, as you look up at him quizzically.

“I never do.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say. While Ominis shared little of his family, you knew they didn’t get on well with each other.

“Don’t worry about it, little dove.” He turns, his eyes immediately falling on you. He chuckles, poking at the frown you didn’t even realize you had. Your heart flutters at his sudden tenderness.

“Besides, I won’t be alone this time.”

You smile shyly. “What about Sebastian?”

“Went home early to spend the holidays with Anne.”

Ah.

“That makes sense,” you brush the loose strands of hair that tickle your face as you look down once again. “...You didn’t want to go with him?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me,” he nudges you playfully.

“No, never!” You quickly chase away any wrongfully read intentions. Little did he know, this was by far, one of the best ways you could be spending your Christmas.

“Good,” He looks pleased, returning to scribble notes down. His pen pauses, twirling slightly between his pale fingers as if he is carefully piecing together his next words. “You’ll spend Christmas with me then?”

You bite your lip, hiding the fact that you are completely over the moon that he even asked.

“If you’re alright with having me,” you glance up at him through your hair shyly only to find that he’s already turned towards you, answering your silly question with a gracious smile.

“I’ll meet you at your common room on Christmas morning then.” He returns to his assignment as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you for the rest of the evening.

“I have a feeling you haven’t heard a single word I’ve said,” Poppy grins knowingly as she knocks on the bottom barrel. With your exams out of the way, she invited you back to the Hufflepuff common room to spend some time together before she returned home.

“Oh shush,” you usher her into the common room, away from any prying eyes or ears. Nobody but Poppy knew of the fact that Ominis Gaunt had you completely enamored in all respects. Merlin forbid anyone accidentally overhearing her usual teases.

“I don’t understand,” Poppy picks up an apple on the way to her room, with you trailing not too far behind. She takes a bite, “It sounds like he’s totally into you.”

You shrug, wanting to change the subject. But she closes the large wooden door behind you, plopping down on the nearest bed, patting on the mattress and inviting you to join her.

“You like him.” She asks slowly.

You manage a slow nod, feeling your cheeks heat up – embarrassed to finally admit it aloud.

“You should totally tell him then.” She giggles, nudging your shoulder playfully.

“Well,” you say sheepishly before confessing the plans you made with Ominis to spend Christmas morning together.

“No way!” She gasps, apple in hand totally forgotten. You nod through your giggles. Night had fallen by the time you told her the full extent of your feelings for Ominis. Both of your eyes began to droop and before either one of you knew it, winter break had snuck up on you and Poppy was on her way home.

Christmas time at Hogwarts was your favorite. There was truly no word to describe it except magical. The halls were decorated with wreaths and ribbon, every corridor filled with the scent of earthy pine, with wafts of gingerbread trickling in every so often from the Great Hall. By this time, most of the students had returned home, leaving the castle unusually quiet.

In the early hours of the morning, before anyone else was awake, Ominis was true to his word and snuck his way over to your common room. He steps through the doorway in just his nightclothes and dark emerald robes; his usually gelled hair falling in tuffs over his silver eyes as he bends down, careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling.

“I thought I’d be caught for sure,” he laughs, a little out of breath, running a hand through his hair as he stands up straight.

“As did I,” you tease, “I’m surprised to see you breaking the rules Mr. Gaunt.”

His chuckle is faint as he follows you in towards the empty lounge area, the both of you falling to the floor, unconsciously huddling close together around the toasty fireplace.

“That little faith in me?”

“Well,” you jest, elongating your words for good measure. “You must be spending too much time with Sebastian. Here I thought that he was the one who was always up to no good — never in a million years did I imagine I’d be harboring “rule breaker” Ominis Gaunt.”

“I suppose I’m willing to break a rule or two for you, little dove.” He leans just enough so that your shoulders are touching. A small smile ghosts his lips, his gaze immediately drawn to your sudden closeness. Ominis always seemed to be drawn to your presence — like moth to a flame.

“Don’t tell me that,” you purse your lips, hiding your smile. “At this point, I’d just think you’re trying to get on my good side...”

He pauses. And for a second you think you’ve spoken out of turn.

“Is it working?” He plays with the ring on his middle finger. “Am I on your good side?”

Your smile falters for only a moment — realizing that he ever had the thought that you may think of him any less than you already do.

“You always are,” you say softly before looking down. “But…I don’t want to get greedy.”

There's a pause between the both of you and you think you've messed up everything. However, Ominis is the first to break the silence.

“Little dove,” his fingers hook under your chin, gently guiding you to look up at him. “You can be as greedy as you’d like.”

For a moment, you recall Poppy’s words wondering if they had held any truth. Your lips part, taking a deep breath to gain control of your nerves. Ominis must have taken notice. He pulls away quickly, looking down before changing the subject.

“Join me in the Greenhouse tonight.”

“The Greenhouse?” You ponder aloud, wondering what in the world would draw him to the Greenhouse on Christmas day.

He nods. “I…There’s something I’d like to show you.”

How did you wind up being so lucky – getting to spend the entirety of the day with the man who had secretly captured your heart. How could you say no?

“If you’d like.” He quickly adds.

“Of course, Ominis.” You cover your mouth to hide the giggle that threatened to spill out. “How you spoil me so.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, almost as if he is relieved by your answer. “Tonight then.”

The wind was unforgiving, the icy air nipping at your warm cheeks as you followed him quickly in pursuit. With the darkness of night keeping you hidden, the two of you made your way down the spiraling steps, through the large copper doors and into the warm, welcoming confines of the Greenhouse.

“After you,” he holds the door open, allowing you to pass first. A gentleman to his very core. The small gesture makes you smile sheepishly. Following the steps, you finally stop in front of the large wooden planter; wild bluebells singing a sweet song – the cold wind from outside disturbing their slumber.

You pull down your hood, fiddling with the drawstrings, and doing your best to hide your nervousness.

“I wanted to show you something.” He’s not too far behind you, removing his hood as well, fair strands of hair falling to his eyes, making it hard to read his expression clearly. Was he nervous too?

“What is it?” You hold your hands behind your back, slowly walking towards him to get a better look.

“Well.” He begins towards you, closing the gap between the two of you. “It’s Christmas, y’know?”

You cock your head to the side but can’t hide your smile. His nervous rambling was one of the things you absolutely adored about Ominis.

“And I didn’t get you anything.”

“Oh Ominis,” you manage to find your voice, “I’m not expecting any gifts from you.”

“I know.” He interrupts, his voice dropping a soft murmur. “But I wanted to.”

“I– … Here.” He holds out a gold chain, dangling at the end is a beautiful stone in the shape of a small dove – its chiseled edges shimmering amidst the moonlight each time it twirls.

You don’t know what to say. He gestures for you to turn, before gently brushing your hair out of the way. His arms carefully lock around you, clasping the dainty piece of jewelry around your neck – his cold touch lingering just long enough to make you want more as soon as he pulls away.

You feel the little dove that hangs at your chest; his thoughtful gift almost brings tears to your eyes.

“Ominis, I –...” You sniff, turning around to face him, “It’s beautiful, thank you. But I feel horrible, I didn’t get you anything!”

“Oh but you did, little dove.” He steps closer, “Getting to spend Christmas with you is more than I could ever ask for.”

His soft words make you feel like the summer sunshine was beaming down and heating your skin; Your cheeks flushing as you feel the slight rustle of your robes, his closeness making your heart skip a beat.

The silence that ensues is filled with a small rustling sound overhead. Peering up, the shimmering glow of the lacewing flies illuminating the dainty decor that was now hanging above the both of you; Its crimson beady berries seemingly taunting you.

Oh.

“Mistletoe,” Ominis murmurs softly.

“So it is,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“I have something important to tell you,” there is a slight shake in his voice, almost as if he is afraid to speak his next words.

“Yes?” you whisper, encouraging him to continue.

“But I’m afraid it’ll mess up what we already have.”

You shake your head, assuring him that there was nothing to fear.

“This isn’t easy for me,” his warm breath is visible against the cold air. He reaches out towards you slowly, his hand pausing inches before touching your skin — hesitant. Scared. “I’ve never…not like this.”

You step forward, closing the gap between the two of you.

“But — you matter to me.” He gasps, feeling your cold touch against his cheek.

“Ominis?” You trail your fingertips along his fair skin and to your surprise, he closes his eyes and leans into your palm.

You are certain yet your words are only but a murmur, “Kiss me—“

He cuts you off, cupping your face in his hands as he leans down and brushes his lips to yours; Hesitant as if he is still asking for your permission. His minty breath fans across yours as he slightly pulls away, his hands gently searching your face for any uncertainty.

You can only manage a small nod, assuring him that it was okay. This time, he is anything but gentle – pressing his lips against your own, hungry and desperate to pull you in close. As your fingers make their way around his neck, he wraps his arms around your smaller frame – the both of you allowing yourselves to be completely consumed – and enraptured by each other.

The mandrake leaves shudder, mimicking you as they dig themselves deeper into the dirt — just as you were falling deeper, losing yourself in all of the man that was Ominis Gaunt.

#ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fluff #ominis x you #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy x reader

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cosmos-coma · 5 months

Text

Sick Days- Bucky Barnes

A/N: We interrupt your regularly scheduled chapter to say.... I'm sick AGAIN. Its been just about 2 weeks since I fully recovered from my cough (and almost 6 weeks since I first showed symptoms last time.) I've been under a lot of stress lately to find a job so I can pay my bills, but hopefully the recovery from this round is faster.

pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

Words: 1472

Warnings: gender neutral reader (no pronouns), NO Y/N (just 'Doll'), Sick reader, just a whole lot of fluff and soft Bucky, passively edited.

Bucky Masterlist

______________________

It started as just a funny feeling in your chest, you couldn’t really describe it, but you didn’t let it worry you.

Then, the next morning you spent 10 minutes coughing up the worst-tasting phlegm you’d ever imagined. Thinking that that was the last of it, you mentioned nothing of it to the team, the doctor, or your overly concerned boyfriend. But as the night went on and your throat began to dry, that little cough tip-toeing back in, you knew it would be worse than you had assumed. But you still ignored it for the most part; Nothing a good swig of NyQuil and some rest couldn’t do. You’d deal with it in the morning.

But now here you were in bed, wool socks on, two sweatshirts wrapped around you, and piles and piles of blankets over top, yet you were still shivering as if you had just stepped outside naked in the middle of winter. You had tried a shower, but it only warmed half of you, the other half just standing cold and wet away from the spray. You had even tried your microwavable hot pack; it worked for a while, but its heat dwindled quickly with time.

An unproductive cough forced its way out of your throat, following itself up with a throbbing headache at the spike in pressure. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” you groaned, but it only came out as an unintelligible groan.

Though your body shivered and your muscles ached, you still found bits to be thankful for. Your nose- while slightly pressurized- still let you breathe through it, and your throat had yet to feel any of its usual soreness; they were small victories, but victories nonetheless.

However, as time passed and you lay awake listening to the sounds of the tower you were beginning to get disoriented. Was it lack of sleep? Or maybe it was dehydration? Or perhaps…. Wait, what were you thinking of again? Hm… oh well, must not have been that important.

Anyways, where were we? Ah, right-

You waited patiently for Bucky to come back from the kitchen, now regretting asking him for tea instead of just asking him to lay with you. He had been so worried when he heard you say that you were sick that he immediately sprang into action. He knew you never really liked relying on people; you were always the one taking care of others- whether you wanted to or not- so when the two of you started dating it had been quite an adjustment to get you to sit back and let him do the work.

“Hey, Doll… Are you awake…?” He called quietly, nudging the door open with his foot as he carried a tray piled high. He made his way over toward the large lump underneath the blankets, dipping the bed as he sat, “Is this you or is this just a pile of pillows?” he asked with a poke.

“No, it’s me. I’m up…” you groaned as you peeked out over the warmth of the blanket to look, and when you saw you couldn’t help but laugh weakly at your ridiculously loving boyfriend. His tray was piled high with everything you could need; a nice bowl of soup, some fresh fruit, cold medicine, tea, a hot towel- he had brought everything he thought might help you.

“What’s all this..? I thought I only asked for tea…” you said with a nasally voice and a smile, braving the cold of the room as you sat up, “fuck, is it freezing in here to you…?” You pulled your knees to your chest in an effort to keep warm despite the way your aching muscles protested.

Bucky’s brows drew together as he set the tray aside, “I thought I’d make sure you had all you needed. You’re still cold…?” Concern laced his voice as his metal hand rubbed up and down your leg, “Can we try some soup first? You need to warm up from the inside.” he advised. Gentle, loving hands helped you sit up further, even going so far as to feed you spoonfuls of soup.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed just how much you loved it, “Bucky, I’m not a child. I can feed myself…” you argued, your smile dissolving into soft laughter as he began to fly the spoon around like an airplane at your remark.

“Ah, come on, Doll. Please let me take care of you…? ” he chuckled as he tried to play it off, but you could see in his eyes that he needed this, he needed to make sure you were going to be okay. Your heart squeezed pleasantly at the knowledge that you had someone so incredibly dedicated to you, and you nodded.

“Alright, Big guy...” you relented with a grin, downing the spoonful of soup, “Thank you… I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You swallowed with a hum, enjoying the way its warmth traveled through your body quickly.

You breathed a sigh of relief, closing your eyes and savoring the love and spices that went into it. However after your 5th or 6th spoonful your stomach began to turn, churning uncomfortably as you thought about taking another bite. “Ugh…” you groaned, holding Bucky’s hand still before he could offer you another spoonful, “Wait, hold on….”

“What is it? Is it not good?”He asked, “I tried to copy my mother’s old recipe but it’s a little fuzzy after 70 years on ice…” He looked down, sniffing the bowl quizzically, It didn’t smell perfectly like his mother’s, but it didn’t seem that bad either.

“No, no, it’s good… I just- I’m not sure my stomach is strong enough right now.” You sighed as you let go of his hand, looking away from the soup so your stomach could finally settle. “I’m sorry, I know you worked hard and -”

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry,” he smiled softly as he put the bowl aside, “I know sickness does weird things to your appetite… but we need another way to warm you up now.”

You wasted no time pulling back the covers, your sweatshirt coming off in record time before you reached out to him, “Well, they say body heat is the best way to keep warm in emergency situations. It’s just science…” You reasoned as your fingers urged him toward you. You may have still been adjusting to having someone else care for you, but if there was one thing you’d cave to without fail, it was cuddling your super soldier.

“Ah, of course… and this is an emergency after all.” His grin spread warmth through you as he climbed in, peeling off a few of his own layers for maximum skin-to-skin contact.

You settled easily onto his chest, your head tucked neatly into the crook of his neck, and as you lay against his super-heated skin you felt your whole body melt away. Relaxation and warmth crept along your muscles as his warm calloused hand glided down your back, squeezing and rubbing your aching muscles as he went along.

“Wait, fuck- go back down… further… not there you pervert- up, now to the left…! Ooooooh, yeah. right there…” You moaned as he rubbed firmly into the small of your back.

A gentle laugh rumbled through his chest and into you, as you called him out, his hand turning to massage his knuckles along the perfect spot and eliciting an even dirtier-sounding moan from your lips.

“You jerk… Why are you so good at this..?” you sighed blissfully as your back cracked with a satisfying pop.

“What? At making you moan..?” your boyfriend teased, “Just had a lot of practice I guess… You know how dedicated I am to my craft,” He laughed as he kissed your shoulder’s warming skin, and snuck his hands lower…

You snorted, gently thwapping his arm… “Alright, big guy, behave yourself… I’m too sick for your kinda ‘cold remedy’ today “

A beaming grin spread across his face as he wrapped his arms firmly around your middle, his stubble rubbing against your face as he kissed your temple. “I’ll behave, I’ll behave..” he mumbled against your hairline, lips staying pressed against your soft skin.

A quiet moment passed where you two lay with nothing but comfortable silence between you. All kidding and jokes fell by the wayside as soft kisses passed beneath the blankets from body to body

A warm smile pulled at your lips as you closed your tired eyes, “Thank you for taking care of me today, Buck…. Always really. I can't imagine how miserable I’d be without you.” You laid your heart bare, appreciation evident in your voice. “I’m so lucky I have you,” you pressed another kiss to his stubbly skin, “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you too, Doll. More than you’ll ever know.”

__________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity

It's been a while since I've written for Bucky (almost a year), so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

#Its been a long time since ive written for Bucky so please be kind #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #james barnes x reader #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james bucky barnes x reader #James Bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic

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twitterpated-passion · 5 months

Text

How to Date a Ghost | Monster Boyfriend(China Cabinet pt 2)

Dating a ghost wasn’t something you saw yourself doing with your life, but then again, you didn’t see yourself doing half of the things you were and well…it’s not like you were complaining.

Arax was a fine boyfriend, he was just a little old fashioned and a little grumpy at times, but you never blamed him. If you were stuck in an unused cabinet after never talking to a person in over a hundred years, you’d be grumpy too. So you understood that he needed time during those moments. That and a blanket and tv time to watch whatever trash tv he wanted at that time.

But given that it was a year into your relationship with him, you picked up on a few things that apparently happen when you date a ghost as someone who’s still alive.

✄-----------------

You were sitting in what would’ve been your dining room, if you hadn’t turned it into a nook now that you were able to afford the bookshelves to put all your books in the room. It was early enough in the morning that Arax wasn’t awake yet, or he just wasn’t showing himself to you at that moment. It didn’t take long for you to realize, even before you two were ‘official’ that despite being dead, Arax actually took the time to sleep now that you knew he existed. He told you it was to pass the time in the beginning, but you noticed after a bit that he would gradually get tired whenever it was around the time he usually slept, like his body was just on a clock.

But as you were tucked in the chair you put in the corner of the room, book in your hands, you felt someone touch your hair on the top of the chair, then the lingering feeling of cold lips on your cheek. Your eyes glanced up from the words on the pages, but you didn’t see anything and you rolled your eyes, a smile spreading on your lips. “C’mon A’, show yourself.”

He did as was told, appearing in the bookshelf closest to you on your right, but he was floating, looking at the books on the top shelf. “You didn’t take long to call me out.”

“You didn’t take long to start messing with me,” you responded. Arax shrugged and went down before his feet touched the rug on the hardwood floor. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, I guess…it was just spending time in a dark void, if I’m being honest. I’m guessing you didn’t get any sleep, since you’re up at-” he moved to the kitchen, looking at the clock on the microwave “-Jesus Christ, it’s seven in the morning, you need to go to bed.”

“For the record, I did go to sleep, you’re just an old man and go to bed earlier than I do. And I’m not tired, so I’m getting some reading done.” He hummed, going back in the room before finding his seat on the floor in front of your chair, head finding its spot between your calves. “You alright?”

He nodded, for a beat, but you noticed his eyes training on the ground, so you nudged him with your foot. “Hey- what’s up? Talk to me, sweet thing.”

“It’s nothing, I promise, I’ve just been thinking about things.”

“What sort of things?” you asked. “You do know you can tell me anything right? Like no matter how dumb it may be.”

“I know,” he sighed. “It’s just- We can’t do things. Like what people do in shows or in movies. I can’t even court you correctly, for god’s sake. It just makes me feel like you’re better off with someone less like me and more…alive.”

You didn’t respond for a bit, shutting your book and setting it on the table beside your chair, leaning down to run your fingers through his hair and then grasp one of his hands with your free one. “You get that if I wanted something like that, I wouldn’t have stuck around for a year, right? We’ve been together for a long time, I don’t need dates out in public or for me to be ‘courted’. I’m happy staying at home. Movie dates are more my style anyway.”

“And what if you want something more? LIke a wedding or a family?”

“It’s the twenty-first century babes, I don’t need it to be happy. I’m fine living without spending money on a wedding or not having a kid. Even though adoption exists.”

“The other parent is a ghost, hun,” he said, looking up at you and squeezing your hand.

“Weirder people are parents. You’re fine,” you reassured, even though you did think it’d pose a thought about how to explain why one parent is never showing up to events or anything dealing with the kid because he’s dead and attached to a cabinet and can’t leave the house. You shook your head. “Look, baby steps, we’ll be fine.”

“...If you say so,” he breathed out, lifting your intertwined hands to kiss at the back of it, squeezing it again. “I wouldn’t hate you if you realized you needed someone else though.”

“Never gonna happen,” you said. “I’m quite fine not meeting new people in a romantic setting and staying with you for the rest of eternity.”

“But-”

“No,” you cut him off, moving your hand from his hair to his chin, tilting his head back so he can look up at you. “No buts, no arguing, nothing. ‘Kay?”

He took a moment, but he nodded. “...Fine.”

“Good.” You nudged him to the side so you could stand and stretch. And in the corner of your eye, you watched him stand back up, his light footsteps faintly padding on the floor before his arms wrapped around your waist and he rested his chin on your body, the coolness of his body sending a shudder down your spine, but you were used to it, so it didn’t bother you as much as it did in the beginning of your adventures with him. “‘M gonna make myself some food, you can turn on the tv and play whatever you want.”

“Could we listen to an audiobook this time?” Arax asked, and when you turned to face him, you saw his eyes all big and surprisingly glossy for a ghost, his bottom lip jutted out in a pout that he seemed to have perfected in the past year. He had quickly taken a liking to audiobooks when you introduced them to him, and he usually played one while reading the same book at the same time, and when you asked why he was doing it when you saw it happen for the first time, he answered that it made him focus on what he was reading better. You just shrugged it off and ever since you would either turn the audiobook on for him, which meant buying a cd copy half the time so he could listen to it on your old discman or you read him the book, which did in fact made for some good quality time when he was able to get himself to stay still and silently read along with you. When he wasn’t in the mood to sit still and needed to walk around the room in laps, he fortunately did make you tea most of the time to help your throat.

You nodded at his question, placing your hands on his before moving him from you and motioning towards the living room with a small kiss. “Go for it, babes.”

A little smile appeared on his face before he kissed your cheek and walked towards the living room, audibly plopping himself on the couch as he got whatever his pick of the day pulled up. You were relieved to see that he was happy now, given his earlier admissions, and with a small, quiet sigh, you walked in the kitchen and started making yourself some food, pulling out a plate, then your toaster before tossing in two slices of bread and pushing it down. As you were pulling out the butter and jam you had in the fridge, you heard a guy’s voice in the living room suddenly. You set the two things on the counter and shut the fridge with a light shove, walking out into the living room to see the Dracula book cover on your tv.

You glanced over at Arax, noticing that he was already under a quilted blanket on your couch, looking like he was as comfortable as could be. “Comfy?”

He nodded with a hum. “Yea. What’re you making for breakfast?”

“I’m making toast for myself,” you answered, the beginning of the audiobook becoming mere background noise as you walked over to him, sat on the edge of the couch and brushed your fingers against his cold skin. “You’re getting good at using all of this.”

“I have an amazing partner that lets me explore their electronics,” he responded happily, lifting himself up to plant a kiss on your jaw, causing your cheeks to heat up despite the cold touch. “If the technology people have now started back when I was alive, things would’ve gotten done so much faster…not to mention that you wouldn’t have to wait to get something if you could just order it online.”

He sighed, looking almost for longing. “You survived your time, you can now reap the benefits of the technology now that you’re in the afterlife.”

You saw him shoot you a look, and you knew you pushed a little bit with the ‘surviving your time’ bit, so you tried to backtrack. “Look, just be happy you died young. Now you’re forever in your late twenties. That means something, right?”

“I guess,” he said, moving his hand to touch yours. “I have to watch you grow old though…and it doesn’t make me feel good thinking about it.”

“Think I’m gonna get all wrinkly when I’m old? That you’re gonna be dating an old person when we’re both ghosts?” He shook his head.

“I’m more afraid that I’m gonna have to watch you forget me or something like that…and it’s not gonna feel nice watching it when you finally…pass.” Arax grew quiet but he squeezed your hand, obviously to keep himself from spirling in the thought process. “We still have time now though, right?”

You nodded. “Mhm. And even when I do kick the bucket, I doubt that I won’t remember you when I’m a ghost. Maybe whoever’s in charge of this dump’ll let me get old but make me a hot ghost. I think I’ve earned that right already.”

Your heart lurched when you heard him laugh and he nodded. But you heard the toaster pop before the conversation was able to continue. So you stood and got your breakfast finished, walking back in and sitting at his feet this time, letting him put his ankles and feet on your lap.

You two didn’t say much else for the rest of the morning, merely listening to the audiobook as you took comfort in each other on the small couch. It wasn’t a morning that usually happened nowadays, so you weren’t trying to waste it by doing anything that could be thrown aside until later.

✄-----------------

It’s been a week since you reassured Arax about his worries, and while it didn’t completely get rid of them, that was obvious with the way he clung to you whenever he seemed to get into a mood, or a rom com trailer turned on in the middle of a video you two turned on for background noise and he’d get upset because he can’t drag you out to the yard or a park to picnic with you. You’ve been pretty good at distracting him though.

Which is why you both were laying in the comfort of your bed, dramatic heaving coming from your ghostly boyfriend as you tried to catch your breath, reaching over to tug on a shirt, then a pair of sweats, but you didn’t get out of bed, only covered so you could warm up a bit before you went back to cuddling Arax. You felt his eyes on you, only for them to avert quickly when you looked over at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he answered, but sat up and moved closer to you. “You’re always so…pretty after we do…this.”

“You’re allowed to say the word,” you snorted, but he waved it away, planting a kiss on your neck.

“Don’t feel like it,” he said simply, laying back down and tugging you against him, tucking his head against the crook of your neck, lazily placing his lips on your skin and keeping them there as he relaxed and shut his eyes.

“I’m gonna have to go to work one time or another today,” you told him quietly, hearing him groan against you.

“Why do you never respect the post-glow?” Arax asked, glancing up at you with hooded eyes. “Do it later…”

You chuckled, shaking your head, but you relented, letting him have his time, your limbs tangling together as you traced your fingers up and down his back, your head leaning against his. “You’re bein’ really clingy recently, not that I’m complaining…but, you sure you’re alright, Arax?”

He took a moment, but nodded, slipping his arms around you and holding you tightly. “I’m fine, I’m just in my own head at the moment.”

“You wanna talk about it,” you asked him calmly, continuing dragging your warm hand up and down his skin, placing kisses on the side of his head. He shook his head and you nodded back at him. “That’s alright…if you want to later, I’ll be here to listen.”

“I know,” he mumbled, sighing against your skin. But after a pregnant pause, you heard him speak in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him talk in, “I just wish I was born in the same era you were…”

Your eyebrows raised. “...Yea? Why’s that?”

“...Because maybe we would’ve met…been like this and I’m not constantly freezing you…or so I can actually have a dream when I sleep. I like floating…I like being able to disappear…being a ghost is fine, but I hate not being alive…” he trailed off and went silent, burying his face back in the crook of your neck before you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him flush against your body.

“I’m not going to tell you what your feeling is invalid…because it’s not. But honestly, I like you as a ghost…and yea, wouldn’t it have been nice if we could’ve met and had a world wind romance? Yea, ‘course it would, but if you were born around the time I was, we might’ve not met. And just knowing that no matter what could’ve happened…I met you because I bought this house…I think that’s nice.” You moved one of your hands, running it through his hair. “I’m not going to forget about you when I get old…and I’m not going to move on randomly with the notion that I want someone willing. ‘M with you, and I’m happy to be with you. Ghost or not. Besides, I couldn’t care less if you freeze me, it makes up for it during the summer and when I’m sick.”

You heard a muffled huffed chuckle, but he didn’t move, and you kissed the side of his head again. “Why don’t I take the day off and we just spend the rest of the day in bed? Just the two of us?”

You got him to look at you again, and you saw his lips quirk up with a soft smile as he nodded. “I think I’d like that…” You smiled down at him, nodding. “Good.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part One

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befuddled-calico-whump · 4 months

Text

Total$hit$how: Hail Mary

in which Benji tries to make a friend

cw: referenced torture/interrogation, death mention, adult language

previous /// masterlist /// next

×~×~×

They were summoned to the briefing room instead of the training bay that morning, and Benji stumbled through the door sleepy and uneasy, stuck with a pit in his stomach that had formed the second Vic pushed play on the video. It hadn’t exactly gotten worse since, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

He was happy Sahota was safe and not-currently-being-tortured, he was, but he didn't know how to respond to the whole situation. What did you say to someone who'd just escaped a brutal interrogation session? Literally hours ago? It wasn't the kind of event they made greeting cards for.

After last night, he could kinda get why their trainer was so intense all the time. What kind of sane person went through that and then, as Kaius said, just walked it off? Vic was right. None of them were used to he and Sahota's brutal lifestyle, least of all Benji. Even after Sahota had made it back, he'd still had nightmares about that stupid video. And as much as he felt bad for the guy, he was still every bit as scary as he'd always been. Maybe scarier.

Benji hoped their trainer wouldn't be in the meeting at all, that he'd take the day off, but he knew neither of them were that lucky. And sure enough, when he stepped into the briefing room to take a seat beside Kaius, their trainer was standing at the head of the table, looking over the contents of the Important Folder, face impassive as ever despite the bruises that covered it.

Shit, how was he standing? It wasn't even like he had to stand; there were plenty of seats. Did he just like standing that much? Or was this some kind of posturing? A ‘yeah I'm tougher than you, so what?’ type of intimidation tactic. If it was, it was working.

Still, it only seemed polite to congratulate him on the whole not-being-captured thing.

Benji cleared his throat.

“How are you feeling on this fine morning?” he asked, trying to keep his tone lighthearted. He had the feeling Sahota wouldn't appreciate something as pitiful as concern.

“Fine,” he replied flatly, and that seemed to be the end of it.

“If I were you, I would've stayed in bed,” Benji tried, and didn't know why. The guy clearly wasn't in the mood to discuss it. Maybe this really was as common an occurrence as Vic had implied. Just another Tuesday morning.

“You're not me,” Sahota replied, his eyes glued to the folder in his hands.

Okay, he'd take the hint and shut up now. If there was one person he didn't want to see pissed off, it was Sahota. Well… Sahota and Vic. As friendly as he normally was, Vic had shown he could be pretty scary when he wanted, and every threat he made was backed up by the cold hard fact that their lives actually were in his hands.

Kaius was silent beside him, and Benji wondered if he'd been similarly shut down by their trainer. Probably not. Kaius had probably read the room a little better and been quiet from the start.

Joy and Jericho were the next to enter, and he heard one of them wince in sympathy.

“Sahota…”

“Shit, dude.”

If Sahota recognized their less-than-nuanced reactions at all, he didn't address it. “Take your seats. Once Harbor arrives, we'll go over the new findings.”

Joy sat beside Benji, and when he saw her start to open her mouth, he tried to nudge her under the table in warning, but she ignored him.

“You're not looking so hot,” she said. “Maybe you should sit down.”

“I'm fine,” Sahota replied.

“Like fuck you are,” Joy said. “Isn't there a medic or something on this base? You should—”

“I'm fine,” Sahota spat. “It's not your place to tell me what I should or shouldn't do, Cavan. If I hear any more insistent comments, I'll meet you all on the sparring mats after this.”

Jericho’s face turned a shade more worried. “Now?”

“You think I can't?” When no one answered, he snapped the folder shut and tucked it under his arm. “I'll thank you all to remain on track.”

His touchiness about the subject seemed like more than just annoyance. Was he embarrassed?

Benji got that. A feeling like scraping your knee as a kid and wanting to hide your tears from your friends. Only Sahota wasn't crying. Benji wasn't even entirely sure he was capable of such a feat.

The door swung open and Vic strolled inside, Harbor on his heels. They'd been spending a decent chunk of time together. Private tutoring, or whatever. Maybe more than just that, judging by the way Harbor looked at Vic like he was made of gold. Not really his business either way. If Harbor was happy cozying up to the scary spy man, Benji wasn't gonna judge him for it.

“Good morning, everyone. Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Benji said. What would happen if he did miss it? Would Sahota get in his face and threaten him again? Drag him out of bed? Would Vic coolly remind him that the alternative was prison?

“We've recently acquired new intel.” Vic crossed the room, taking the folder from Sahota and laying it in the center of the table. “Sahota will brief you, and then we'll be requiring some of your skills in order to refine it. Questions?”

A heavy silence answered him. Not even Joy raised her hand.

“Wonderful. I’ll leave you in his capable hands.” Vic clapped Sahota on the back, in a gesture that might’ve been friendly if it weren’t for the wounds Benji knew were hiding under his shirt. Their trainer stifled a yelp, his expression flickering from stony to pained, then back to stony in the blink of an eye.

“Ah, my apologies,” Vic said, though something in his voice had Benji wondering if he'd done it on purpose. Like some kind of inside joke. A little ‘gotcha’. Vic threw a smile at Sahota on his way out, closing the door behind him. Their trainer didn't acknowledge it.

Sahota moved to the table, opening the folder and fanning out its contents. It was only then that Benji saw the bandages on his right hand, carefully hidden in his jacket sleeve before now, binding three of his fingers together in a stiff white mass. When he glanced down, he saw a flash of white on his other hand, too.

Jeez.

“I’ve narrowed down our target to a single spot,” Sahota said, tapping one of the papers. “Rotorworx’s northwestern location. The Elysium Building.”

Benji swallowed down the unhelpful pang of sympathy that was attempting to shake him like a tambourine. Elysium. He knew of the place, vaguely. He wasn’t a city native, hadn’t even set foot in San Arbos before getting this bizarre excuse of a job offer, but when you’d been staging high-end robberies for over a decade, you tended to notice the shinier buildings when you wound up somewhere new.

Sahota slid a second paper from the pile. “They use a custom security program, but I managed to work out a few of the specs. Aside from that…” He pushed forward a third page. “I also compiled a list of names. Individuals who may be connected to the development of the Reality Cage.” He slid one page over to Jericho. “Davis, Cavan, I want you on security. See Vic about getting computer access.”

Jericho took the page, and Joy leaned over in her chair to peer at it over his shoulder.

Sahota passed the other paper to Kaius. “Manak, sift through the names and see if anyone listed is particularly relevant. Cross-reference with our database to find any knowns. We may be able to bribe an insider.”

Kaius’s expression darkened when Sahota added,

“Take Harbor with you.”

It was almost enough to make Benji chuckle, but not quite.

“Find out what you can,” Sahota finished. “We’ll reconvene at 1600.”

Each pair scurried off, assignments in hand, like elementary schoolers who’d just been tasked with a group project. Which left only Benji, shifting awkwardly in his chair as Sahota took the seat opposite him.

Shhhit, was he in trouble? He pored over any recent maybe-offenses, his stellar anti-confrontational brain at the ready to create an excuse or explanation or outright lie that would put him in the clear.

But… he hadn’t actually done anything, had he? Unless this was about how useless he’d been in the maze yesterday. Would Sahota even know about that?

“Um,” he began.

“Ruebin,” Sahota said at the same time, and Benji quickly shut his mouth.

“I need your skills for another task.” His hand dipped under the table, coming back with a little metal box, roughly the size of a zippo lighter. Its seam was so fine it was nearly invisible, a teeny-tiny lock on one end. A tubular cam in miniature.

“I’m guessing you want me to pop that open?” Benji said, holding out his hand. Sahota made no move to give him the box.

“Inside is a micro-USB with Elysium’s full floorplans on it. The box is titanium. Unable to be opened without the key or application of powertools. Brute force could destroy the intel within. The wrong key will destroy the lock and render it inoperable.”

Benji let out a low whistle. “That’s some real spy shit, huh?”

“I don’t currently have the finesse required to pick the lock,” Sahota continued, ignoring his comment in a way that Benji would normally consider rude, but since this was Sahota, it was pretty par for the course.

“What happened to the key?” he asked, deciding it was better to question that than Sahota’s lack of finesse. He already knew the explanation there.

“I had to destroy it.”

Benji raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t have, like, an extra one laying around here somewhere..?”

“Defeats the purpose of the real spy shit, doesn’t it?” Sahota muttered. “I need you to get it open.” At long last, he placed the box on the table and nudged it towards Benji. He picked it up, smooth metal still warm from Sahota’s palm.

“Hand tools are available for your use. Take all the time you need.” He laid a small leather booklet on the table, lockpicks the size of needles nestled within. “If you screw it up, chances are high that we lose the information inside.” His eyes met Benji’s, looking darker than usual against his bruised skin. “Don’t screw it up.”

Benji swallowed, closing the thing in his fist. “Roger that.”

It was bad enough being tasked with something that was both so critical and so easy to fuck up. It became a million times worse when Sahota made no move to leave, instead settling back in the chair across from him and sifting through the folder.

Benji cleared his throat. “Um…”

“What?”

Benji shrugged. “I, ah, don’t usually do this for an audience,” he said. Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to tell Sahota that he made him nervous. “My best work has always come out of solo acts, so if you wouldn’t mind…?”

“I do mind.” A paper rustled in his hand as he turned it over. “For the purpose of the mission, the contents of that box are top secret. I’m not letting it out of my sight.”

Benji let out a heavy sigh before he could stop himself, but if Sahota noticed, he didn’t seem to care. He set the box on the table and pulled the lockpicks closer. A half-diamond pick would probably be a good place to start, at least for probing. Benji twirled the tiny thing between two fingers, trying to plant his gaze on the lock itself, and not on the man across from him.

Fuck, Sahota’s presence just made him more anxious about this. Stupid or not, his brain found solace in distance, reasoning that if he did fuck up, at least he had a head start on running away. As it was, he was sitting closer to an arm’s length. Within punching distance. Hair-grabbing distance. Sahota had already done that once, and that had been for the crime of fake-surrendering. What would he do if Benji messed up some actually-critical shit?

He was almost too nervous to hold the pick right.

Really, this was perfect. What was better than being stuck in a room with someone you were slightly terrified of? Being stuck in a room with someone you were terrified of but also kinda felt bad for, of course. If he hadn’t just watched Sahota get tortured, he might be able to sit quiet and pick the lock in an anxiety-fueled haze. If it were anyone else in his trainer’s position, he could just talk to them and make sure they were okay. But those two concepts just didn’t mix right, and the longer he sat in silence, the more the bizarre cocktail of worry and care and fear shook up inside him.

He had to say something. So far, none of them had really been conversational with their trainer, only interacting with him during the training itself. Maybe that was the root issue. Maybe a little chit-chat would make them both feel better, and kickstart Sahota’s defrost cycle.

“Crazy weather we’ve been having, huh?” Benji said, easing in the lockpick. A darting glance up told him Sahota was choosing to ignore the remark. Benji chose to ignore his ignorance.

“That was a joke,” he said. “Y’know, because I haven’t been outside in a week.”

Again, no response, but he didn’t look particularly pissed off, so Benji continued.

“Is this what your normal routine is like? 90-10, indoor-outdoor—?”

“Are you not capable of doing this quietly?”

Benji paused in his lockpicking endeavors. “Well no, not really. If I do have an audience, it’s polite to engage in conversation.” And for a lot of his sleight-of-hand tricks, it was necessary, a subtle distraction. It wasn’t like he was capable of fooling Sahota in this particular instance, but it sure made him feel more comfortable. If only he could say the same for his trainer.

“If you insist on talking, at least talk about something useful.”

“Like what?”

“Walk me through your steps. Recite fun facts. I don’t fucking know.”

“Or,” Benji said, swapping out picks, “we could get to know each other. Do you have a favorite food? Mine’s pad thai.”

He didn’t know how it was even possible, but Sahota’s glare got even more glare-y. “No.”

“No favorite food?” Were spies just quakers with guns?

“No, I don’t want to get to know you.”

Okay, ouch. “Not even a little bit? I mean I’m 20% of your prize team—”

“You’re a criminal we chose at random for your skillset and proximity,” Sahota said evenly. “You aren’t special.”

Wow. This was going so great. “And I suppose you are?”

“I’ve been doing this job for twelve years.”

Benji huffed. “Well I’ve been stealing and shit for like, ten. Can’t we agree that we’re both special in wholly unique ways?”

Sahota didn’t reply. Benji let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh, and set his attention back on the lockbox. He was almost tempted to try on the silence; the icy friend-rejecting attitude the other man wore so easily. But… in for a penny, in for a pound.

“How’d you get started on the job anyway?” he asked. “I doubt there’s many ‘help wanted’ signs out there for this gig.”

“I was recruited in the field,” Sahota answered after a pause.

“Recruited in the field,” Benji repeated. “Is that like, spy code for ‘recommended by a family member’, or..?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Were you recruited by Vic?”

“Yes.”

“So what, he just saw you in the field and was like, ‘I like the cut of your jib, kid’?”

“Yes.”

Benji slumped forward on the table, careful not to jostle the lockpicks. “Okay. Cool.” The conversation piece was way harder to traverse than he would’ve thought. Sahota seemed hellishly determined to remain as frigid and distant as possible, but Benji had one final hail mary.

“Is the job like this a lot?”

Sahota didn’t look up. “Like what?”

He gestured vaguely at the other man. “That. Y’know, violent. Sending you home with bruises.”

The trainer’s eyes closed, the corner of his mouth tightening. “What did I say about—?”

“I’m not insisting on anything,” Benji said quickly. “Obviously you can handle it and obviously you’re fine, but… I don’t know. You’re our teacher. Part of the team, technically. Aren’t we allowed to worry a little bit?”

When Sahota didn’t answer, Benji sighed, taking up the lock again. He’d tried. So much for his supposed ‘get along with everyone’ superpower. The two of them sat in silence for a good several minutes, nothing but the tiny click of lockpicks at work and the faint, occasional rustle of a paper being turned over or tucked away.

“Chana dal,” Sahota said, and Benji looked up from his work, squinting at him in confusion.

“Huh?”

“You asked for my favorite food. Chana dal.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good one, that’s… the one with the lentils, right?”

“Have you never tried it?” To his surprise, Sahota actually glanced up at him with the question.

“I probably have,” Benji said. “I just don’t fully remember.” He put on as harmless an expression as he could. “Have you ever made it here? Not to shit on Vic’s cooking, but it’s kinda… bland.”

He swore that almost got a smile out of Sahota. Almost.

“Vic does what’s necessary,” he said. “I’ve made it before. Usually comes out decent, but nowhere near as good as…” He paused, dropping his eyes back to the papers, the muscle in his jaw tensing. “I’ve had better.”

“I probably haven’t,” Benji said, carefully breezing past whatever Sahota was trying to keep down. What had he been about to say? A name? A restaurant? Something he missed, probably, maybe a family member. Benji knew that ache well enough, but Sahota’s own wasn’t his business. Not yet.

“Maybe you could make it for the team one of these days?” he said, readjusting the lockpick. “For luck.”

“Maybe.”

Click. The tiny metallic sound rang out from the box in his palm, and Benji looked down at it in surprise.

“Shoot. I… I think I got it.”

Sahota leaned forward. “Really?”

Benji pressed his thumb into the top half of the little box, gently pushing it open. Inside, in a felt-lined compartment that looked like it was molded to be an exact fit, a micro-USB was nestled like a sleeping puppy.

“Quicker than I'd expected.” Sahota opened his palm, and Benji set the USB in it, box and all, freely wearing a proud smile.

Look at him go, using his skills for critical work and shit. “I told you I was special, didn't I?”

Sahota's expression shifted oh-so slightly, reflecting something that Benji could almost read as impressed if he squinted.

“I guess you did.”

The others filed back inside eventually; Joy and Jericho with what he described as an ‘outline of an outline’ of a plan to hack the system, and Kaius with new notes written in the margins of the list he’d been given. Harbor trudged in after him, just as quiet as he’d been the last few days. Benji could’ve sworn the guy had been louder at the start, almost like he was trying to impress the rest of them with a wannabe-punk attitude. Maybe it had just been first-day nerves.

Kaius stepped forward to lay his paper flat on the table.

“Our findings indicate every name on this list has some level of involvement with the Reality Cage,” he began. “Interns, security, research assistants, and the like. Of this group, one individual sticks out. Rebecca Finley.”

“What's so special about her?” Benji asked.

“From what we can tell, she's the only one who overtly operates outside the law. She's a supplier for rare metals, synthetic gasses, and other materials that may have been used to craft the Reality Cage. Of the listed individuals, she'd likely have the best idea of how to destroy it, and may well be familiar with the comings and goings of the Elysium Building.”

Benji shrugged. “You got me there.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Locate Finley. See if she'll cooperate.”

“If she doesn't?”

Kaius pressed his lips together. “We'll explore other options.”

On the far side of the room, Vic pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning on. “Finley doesn’t seem like the sort who’s willing to take a bribe.”

“She’s a direct line to Rotorworx's under-the-table technologies,” Kaius replied. “If we can’t bribe her, perhaps we can convince her in other ways.”

Vic rubbed his chin. “You could also kill her and steal whatever data she has on her person.”

Benji's mouth was suddenly dry. “Kill her? Like, kill her kill her?”

“I wasn't aware there was more than one variant,” Vic said, raising an eyebrow.

“Is… is that really necessary?”

“That method will get you answers far quicker than talking.”

Benji swallowed. “Okay, so maybe we should go after someone else?”

“Who else would you suggest, Ruebin?” Kaius asked, his eyes a level glare.

“Well, maybe no one. We've got the security info and the floorplans and the building. Isn't that enough?”

“You want to run in blind?”

“I want to not kill people.”

Kaius glanced at Vic briefly. “If that's our best option, it may be necessary. How do you plan on destroying it without insider intelligence? Hit it with a hammer?”

Something along those lines. “That usually works.”

“And just how many world-bending machines have you destroyed, Ruebin?”

“None, obviously, but I seriously don't think we need to—”

“Hey.” Joy held her hands in a time-out motion. “We can try and play it smart. Talk to Finley and figure out if she knows anything without revealing who we are”

Vic clicked his tongue. “And if she doesn't reveal anything herself, don't you think that's a waste of time?”

“I think it's worth a shot,” offered Benji, who really didn't want to have anything to do with the casual murder of someone.

Joy fixed her eyes on Kaius. “So? What's the plan? Do you have her address or something?”

“Or something,” Kaius murmured, tapping a line scrawled in pen on the paper. “A drop site. Supposedly where Finley picks up material requests from hopeful customers.”

And how exactly had Kaius figured that out? Seemed like a weird detail to find. Benji would've assumed a place of residence, or relatives, or even an officially listed job, especially if they'd had access to whatever database Sahota had promised.

“Material requests, hm?” Vic tapped at his chin. “Chances are you'd get more information from those than you'd ever be able to squeeze out of Finley.”

Kaius frowned. “I don't believe it's a literal drop site, just a meeting place.”

“Great,” Benji said through an exhale. “So let’s meet her there and talk.”

“We're on a tight schedule,” Vic said. “A fruitful interrogation is a drawn-out affair.”

“Whoa, I'm not even saying interrogate her," Benji said. "Why not just… y'know, have a conversation? Maybe she'll cooperate.”

“I can promise you, she won't,” Vic said.

“You don't know that for sure—”

“I do. She makes a living off of dangerous deals with dangerous people.” He slid the sheet of paper away from Kaius, glancing it over. “She won't give anything up.”

“But—”

“Kill her,” Vic cut him off. “Or move on. We don't have time to waste.” He set the paper back on the table and turned his back, leaving behind a roomful of uncomfortable silence.

Benji glanced around, looking for someone to make eye contact with, someone he could pin with a silent, this is crazy, right? Kaius was looking at the paper, Harbor was looking at his hands, and Jericho and Joy seemed to have their eyes fixed on the floor, expressions undecipherable. Finally, his gaze landed on Sahota.

“We're… we aren't actually going to kill her, are we?”

“Pursuing her as a lead isn't necessary,” Sahota replied. “At the end of the day, it's up to you to decide what intel you'll need for the mission. You can disregard the list completely if it suits you.”

Kaius frowned. “You bled for it.”

“I've bled for less. There are other options.”

Joy let out a heavy sigh. “It sounds like we'd get the most from Finley. Why can't we just talk? She doesn't need to know why we want to know anything. We can just make something up. Pretend to be customers or some shit.”

“You heard Vic.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not killing anyone.”

Jericho was already nodding. “What Vic doesn't know won't kill him, right?”

“You're underestimating what Vic is able to figure out,” Sahota said.

“At the end of the day, it's up to us to decide what we want, right?” Benji ventured. “You just said—”

“That doesn't mean going against orders,” Sahota shot back, moving to the table to collect the papers.

“Just let us talk to her,” Joy said.

“You think she'll listen? She'll see right through you.”

“Fine then.” Joy threw her hands up. “Maybe we will interrogate her.”

“It won't work.”

“Well you won't know that for sure if we don't try—”

“I do know for sure.” Sahota dropped the folder onto the table, looking like he was about to follow Vic out the door. “Like Vic said. You can kill her, or—”

“How do you know?” Joy stood. “You might be smart, and a ruthless operator, and all that shit, but you don't know all there is to know about us.”

Sahota stopped. “You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He turned around, sweeping the room with a cool gaze. Benji wasn't sure he liked where this was going. Sometimes he wished Joy wouldn't push the envelope. They'd probably be fine if they listened to Vic and just left it alone, they didn't need need Finley, did they?

“Show me what you've got,” Sahota said. “If you can prove me wrong, I'll let you try it. If you can't, I'll kill Finley myself.”

Joy frowned. “So, what? You want me to have a conversation with you?”

“No.” He rolled his shoulders like he was warming up for something, and Benji couldn’t help but cringe at the next words that left his mouth.

“I want you to interrogate me.”

×~×~×

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday

#total$hit$how #aftermath of whump #angst #he's trying okay #writing #this is the first narrative chapter since the sahota drama blew up so hhhhhhh

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