#it’s ELEVEN O CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING

[siriusblack-the-third]

ok, any headcanons on james that compliment the ones you've done for sirius?

i absolutely loved those and i'm really curious about james

HELL YEAH LETS GO

ADHD. This dude has to be moving, fidgeting, doing something, always. It tires him, and he sleeps very soundly for a full seven hours. Doesn't wake up even for earthquakes (Sirius once did a mini earthquake spell on the dorm room floor in the middle of the night as a prank. It did not wake him.)

Wakes up at an ungodly fucking hour. He doesn't own an alarm clock (it has no effect on him), but his internal clock is set to wake him up at exactly 4:30 in the morning for quidditch practice. He is done with jogging through the entire castle, half an hour of yoga, and an hour of quidditch before 7 A.M. rolls around. Sirius calls him "a demon from muggle hell" for it.

The only one who can keep up with Sirius' intelligence. He is scarily smart, but because most of his time is invested in quidditch and pranks, nobody realises just how smart he is until the results are handed out and he's right there next to Sirius on the top of the rankings. Both of them are always exchanging ranks 1 and 2 on overall performance. It annoys Snape and Lily to no end, because those two are always exchanging ranks 3 and 4 on the list.

The definition of Reckless. If Sirius hadn't stopped him, he would probably have turned the castle to rubble in less than five minutes. This was the exact reason why people (who were in the know) were surprised when Sirius was the one that sent Snape to Moony. They had all thought it would be James' fault.

A fucking bookworm. My dude reads literally everything from mystery to romance to encyclopaedias to research papers to fucking dictionaries of different languages. Even when he doesn't speak the language, the weirdo (affectionate and derogatory).

Indian. Specifically, from Pune city, Maharashtra.

About languages, he's learnt a lot of them. The order of learning of languages, starting from his native tongue, is thus: Marathi, Sanskrit, Hindi, English, Ancient Greek, Tamil, French and Latin. He learnt the first six at home, and French and Latin from Sirius. He's good with languages.

Photographic memory. The reason he never has to study, and also the fact that he understands everything he reads on the first try.

He and Sirius both have twelve OWLs and eight NEWTs. They have Outstandings in all of them.

My dude has the widest, largest doe eyes possible. The only people who can withstand them for more than two minutes are his parents and Sirius.

Bharatanatyam dancer. Has his Visharad certificate, and genuinely enjoys dancing. Gives at least three evenings per week for dance practice to keep up his muscle memory.

Doesn't actually hate Slytherins. Neither does Sirius. Both of them have several friends from the house of Serpents, they just hate the ones that actively use Dark Magic on muggleborns, and Snape and his gang are a part of that.

Lmao the sheer arrogance in him, oh my fucking Gods—

Doesn't give a shit about the rules set by other people (unless they're set by his parents), but has a set of rules for himself that he strictly follows. No one can tell what these rules are, but he has them and he follows them. At the top of that list, there is "never betray your loved ones". He followed that one until his death.

Nevertheless, he will break every single rule. Every. Single. Rule. For Sirius. For Sirius, he will do anything, from taking care of him when he's sick to burning the world for him.

The Hat would actually have put him in Slytherin, except he had no ambitions except to cause chaos at the tiny age of eleven years. Otherwise, he's almost a perfect fit for Slytherin— determined, strong willed, cunning enough to pull difficult pranks, resourceful (because how else you gon plan epic pranks?)

He went to Gryffindor for three reasons and three reasons only: Sirius was there, he had no particular ambition, he wanted to be with Sirius.

M O T H E R H E N. Such a mother hen, but only for a select few people (the marauders, Lily, and Harry). He doesn't give a fuck about anyone else, but these are my people and if I weren't here they would literally get themselves killed put of household related incompetence how are you still alive by the Gods—

Follows ancient Vedic religion (because I do hehe)

Very very panromantic. Demisexual.

Had a crush on Sirius for a short while in fourth year, and then on Frank Longbottom in sixth year after he had one (1) glance at the older boy dressed in full Auror robes.

Loved his mother so much omg he was such a Mama's boyyy

Gave shit to Remus for looking like a professor at the tender age of fifteen, but wanted to become a Transfiguration Professor himself. He was also excellent at Potions (another reason Snape hated him) but decided ultimately that Transfiguration was his calling

Was in his last year of his Transfiguration Mastery on Samhain of 81.

Died with a Killing Curse on his lips. He was ready to cast it wandlessly, for his wife and child. Died with a Killing Curse on his lips.

#james potter #james potter headcanon #indian james potter #maharashtrian james potter #harry potter marauders #harry potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #harry potter #marauders headcanon #marauders headcanons #marauders #marauders era

[transvampireboyfriend]

The obnoxious ringing of their phone fills the trailer and snaps Eddie out of his repetitive strumming.

He's been trying to learn one of his newest favorite songs for, (he looks at the clock; damn, eleven already,) like three hours now.

Eddie gets up from the couch, grumbling about who the fuck is calling them, Wayne left for work some hours ago, but he almost never calls during his shift.

He reaches the phone stuck to one of their kitchen walls and brings the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" he greets.

"Eddie!" Steve's voice says on the other end of the line, his tone surprised like he didn't expect him to pick up.

Eddie feels a smile tug at his lips.

"Heeeey Steve-o!" Eddie greets him "what can I do for ya this time a' night?"

"Shoot! Right, sorry. Did I wake you?" Steve asks. Eddie snickers.

"Nah, man. It's cool." Eddie tells him, grabbing a forgotten bag of twizzlers off the counter to start chewing on one of the treats.

"I know you have a lot of teenage friends," Eddie adds around the twizzler now in his mouth, "but most young adults go to bed at like- midnight. Even later on a Friday night." he finishes.

Steve scoffs at "young adults" and Eddie can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

He's still a little surprised he can tease Steve Harrington. It took many many movie nights for Eddie to fully join in on that. Though he still hesitates sometimes, he thinks the kids can take it a bit too far.

"Whatever," Steve dismisses, his smile shining even through the phone lines "I just called to tell you Rob's not working tomorrow, so she won't be able to meet for breakfast" Steve's smile sounds like it fades a little in that sentence.

Eddie stops chewing.

They've been having breakfast together every Tuesday and Saturday, the days Steve and Robin work the morning shift together at Family Video.

Sometimes a couple of the kids will join, sometimes Robin's friends will join, or Nancy, even Garrett or Jeff or Freak; they all know they can find Eddie, Robin and Steve on those days at the diner so it's become their unofficial hangout spot, at least before 9am.

And Eddie's had breakfast with just Robbie before, or Nance, or one of his friends, but never with just Steve.

Steve is a bit of an enigma to Eddie.

Over a really short period of time Eddie had found out Steve's a local hero extraordinaire, that he's totally metal and also that he is a little bit dorky and has an absolutely terrible love life.

And if that wasn't surprising enough, it turns out Steve also isn't totally averse to Eddie, and that sure was surprising.

But Steve is a little awkward around Eddie sometimes. Like he's afraid Eddie will judge him or something; which, is preposterous, Eddie's the queer nerd, what would he have to judge Steve for? Especially now that he's technically no longer a jock. Plus, he had a huge role in saving Eddie's life, it's not like Eddie would forget that.

But he still finds Steve staring at him in the middle of movie nights only to avert his eyes when Eddie turns to him, or Steve'll laugh a little too hard at Eddie's observation like he's overcompensating, or Eddie will feel a little self conscious of his greasy tank and coveralls when Steve's eyes widen at the sight (it's not his fault his job's so messy).

So, he never really hangs with just Steve, not because he's made it so, but rather, it's just never happened and Eddie hasn't actively tried to make it happen because, well, it's a little weird.

In fact, Eddie's fairly certain Steve also works Thursday mornings because he's seen him having breakfast at the diner with Dustin or on his own when Eddie goes by on his way to the auto shop.

Eddie does work mornings most days except for Sunday and Monday since those are his free days. It's very rare that Frank calls to tell him he'll need Eddie in the afternoon shift instead, so technically, Eddie could be having breakfast at the diner any day.

Eddie could be having breakfast at the diner with Steve on Thursdays.

Except?

He's not gonna invite himself is he?

It also doesn't help that Eddie has an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy, so he can never tell if Steve's actually being weird or if Eddie's just paying too much attention to him.

He really can't help himself, the guy's everything Eddie finds attractive in a person and on top of that he's fucking gorgeous. It's frankly unfair, if you ask him.

All those years in high school, hating Steve in the worst of cases or ignoring him in the best, had been pretty easy. Partly because of his good looks, mostly because of the company he kept. But now that Steve surrounds himself with his found family? Now that he laughs freely and fails fearlessly and gives so easily? Eddie does not stand a chance.

So really, it's probably for the best that they don't hang out on their own.

Eddie puts down his twizzler, mentally readying himself to start doing meal prep because Steve for sure called to cancel.

"...ssso if you wanna cancel–" Steve says, there's a muffled thump on the other end of the line, but Eddie pays it no mind, tries to play it cool.

"I mean that's–. Whatever you want." he stammers.

God, Eddie thinks, rolling his eyes at himself, he really could not be cooler.

"I um," Steve inhales sharply then "I'm probably still gonna have breakfast there," he says, "I'm not– I'm no good in the kitchen" he laughs casually.

Eddie huffs, reluctantly charmed.

"So if you wanna join" Steve adds hesitantly, "well, you're always welcome"

"ialsohateeatingalone" Steve adds, almost as an afterthought.

See? He's a little weird.

Not that that makes him any less attractive; on the contrary, it's endearing,

"Alright, cool." Eddie chuckles now, "Sounds good. I honestly don't wanna cook myself anything so you're practically doing me a favor." he says, then waits for a bit, in case Steve really needs an out; he picks his twizzler back up to start chewing on it again.

When Steve doesn't take the out, Eddie teases him again,

"Tell ya what, I'll teach you how to cook breakfast sometime" Eddie says around his treat, just to get on Steve's nerves a bit, but also pitifully hoping his offer would ever be accepted.

"I know how to cook breakfast, Eddie," Steve protests.

"You just said you're no good in the kitchen!" Eddie shoots back, enjoying the sound of Steve's answering laugh from the other end of the line.

"Ok fine!" Steve says, his smile back in his voice, "You'll teach me some day, whatever." he concedes.

Eddie's fairly certain his eyes could not get bigger and his cheeks could not get redder.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Steve asks.

Heart hammering in his chest, Eddie nods.

Steve can't see him.

"Mmhm." Eddie hurries to amend, "See you tomorrow, Stevie," he says.

Eddie feels butterflies fluttering in his stomach with Steve's parting 'see you' before the line goes dead.

#steddie #steddie headcanon #steddie fanfic #im kinda sad that i haven't shared any headcanons or anything about them in a while so here #have a bit from one of my wips #stranger things #Eddie is so oblivious here i love him so much. my dumb lil meow meow #also the thump when Steve asks if Eds wants to cancel is him banging his head against the wall for losing his courage #bc the plan was to just straight up invite Eddie or even act as if Eddie would for sure come even if it was just the two of them #Steve is also oblivious<3 #this is the breakfast date option of that one poll if you remember #.

[enhaheeseung]

Club pt. 2 l. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung x fem reader!

Warning: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, cursing, alcohol consumption, belly shots, hand job, spitting kink kind of, jealous hee

Still undecided about what I’m gonna do with this blog but for now I hope you all enjoy my newest fic this better have 1k likes when I wake up…jk :)

Masterlist

WC 4k???

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The next morning Heeseung sat on his bed, counting down the minutes to eight. Even though it was only eleven in the morning, he couldn't stop thinking about you.

About last night

About your touch on his skin

About how he wanted to get to know you better

His little mind was in a whirlpool of thoughts about you.

His patience quickly dissipated. Only one minute had passed, but it felt like a whole hour.

He needed a distraction till eight o clock when he'd be able to see you again.

And what's a better distraction than his roommates? He didn't bother to knock before jumping on Jake's bed. He shook his friend awake with no remorse whatsoever.

The first words he spoke caused Jake to smirk rather than punch the living daylights out of him for waking him up so early. "Are we going to the club tonight?" Heeseung asks with a pink tint rising to his ears as he plays with the tiny hairs on his nape.

"It's eleven in the morning, and you're talking about going to the club?" Jake sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I- never mind," heeseung pouted. Now that he was actually having the conversation, he realized how ridiculous he sounded.

"Was it that good that you already have to go back for more?" Jakes teased.

Heeseung widens his eyes as they darted across the room, looking everywhere except jakes eyes.

He didn't have an answer to that, or rather he didn't want to answer that.

"Calm down," jake chuckles at heeseungs scared expression. "I'm just happy that after all this time, you finally got some"

Heeseung was basically red by this point, searching for anything that could change the topic "are we going or not?" He whined.

"Yes, but not at eleven in the morning" Jake plops back down, covering himself with his blanket.

heeseung smiled excitedly as he went back to his room.

-

Heeseung's demeanor was the exact opposite of what it was in the morning when he saw you awfully close to his other friend, jay, the popular one of his small circle.

It didn't take long for heeseung to overflow with jealousy, envy, and anger.

As much as he tried to suppress all those emotions, he just couldn't. As much as he knew he had no right to feel any of those things, it still didn't stop him from clenching his fist when jay wrapped his arm around your waist.

At that point, he had seen enough. He laughs at himself pathetically for thinking you were ever even interested in him, to begin with. He sits up, getting ready to leave before he can make any further moves. Jake was blocking his way.

"And where do you think you're going? We literally just got here."

"I don't care. I just want to go home."

"Okay, what the fuck is this? You were all excited to come here, and now you want to go home? Make it make sense."

Heeseung was completely silent. He didn't hear a word Jake had said to him. He looked over jakes shoulder, and the sight he saw made him want to throw up. Jay still had his arm around your waist as he whispered something in your ear.

"Earth to heeseung," Jake waves his hand back and forth until he notices where heeseung was looking. Jake turns to look in the same direction. Now everything made sense.

Heeseung scoffs at the scene. This was the first time he ever showed any signs of anger. Jake was surprised to see that side of him.

"Are you going to let him take your girl away?" Jake asks to challenge heeseung, trying to break him out of his shell.

"She's not my girl, and she looks like she's having the time of her life. Why would I break that up?" He says angrily.

You, in fact, were not having the time of your life. This man whose name you learned to be jay was literally suffocating you.

You initially approached him to thank him for setting you up with heeseung last night, but you soon realized you snagged the wrong friend. He seemed like a nice, fun guy, but your eyes were focused elsewhere as soon as heeseung walked in. It was like time had stopped. He was absolutely stunning. You had to wonder how he could look so perfect with a plain black t-shirt and blue jeans, but somehow he still managed to look like he was wearing a million-dollar suit.

You were on your way to see heeseung, but your plans quickly changed when trying to give a simple thank you to his friend turned into being trapped in his arms. While he talked about God only knows, Every word was practically incoherent.

When you tried to remove his hand from your waist, he stumbled forward. Without thought, you held his waist to stand him up straight.

"Looks like someone has had one too many," you say, sitting him down at a nearby table.

Now with that obstacle out of the way, you headed to heeseung's usual table to see him and his other friend, that frequently came to the club together.

They looked to be having an intense conversation that you didn't want to interrupt.

As you tried to slowly back away, Jake turned to look at you. "Oh hi, heeseung was just telling me about you" Jake nudged heeseungs arm so he could play along.

It was obvious to anyone that wasn't what the conversation was about, but you didn't make that known, so you played along with them.

"Really? I'm flattered, and you are?"

"I'm jake. Nice to meet you" you shook his hand with a smile.

"Y/n nice to meet you too" heeseung definitely knew he was being irrational, but the fact you had talked to both his friends and still hadn't uttered a word his way irked him to no end.

Finally, you were going to say hi to him, but he was looking off in the distance, not paying you any attention.

Jake found a way to escape the very awkward, tension-filled situation.

"I'm gonna get a drink while you both catch up" just like that, you two were finally alone.

"Hey," you say timidly.

He put his hands in his pockets, still not looking at you. "Hi," he replies, uninterested.

"I was hoping to see you tonight." You confess.

He scoffs. "I just bet."

To say you were confused by his reply would be an understatement.

"Am I missing something?" In your mind, you and him had hit it off well so far.

"Nothing at all" you had enough of his shitty attitude towards you, and if he wasn't going to say anything more than two words, you weren't going to waste your time on him.

You sighed and walked away from him, feeling somewhat hurt by the way he was treating you.

Things were a lot different. In his mind, the audacity you had to even come up like you weren't just all over jay seconds ago was absolutely laughable.

You watched as he was about to leave and chased after him.

"Wait! You call to him.

He turns around upon hearing your voice. Not bothering to stop and answer you, he made it all the way to his car with you following a few steps behind him.

"I said wait" you pushed his back against the door of his car.

He flinched slightly, a small whine leaving his lips while he stared at you in shock.

"Why are you ignoring me?" you at least wanted an explanation as to why he was treating you like you didn't matter.

"I could ask you the same thing," he says with evident irritation in his voice.

"What are you talking about?"

"I came to see you tonight, and before I can even say hi, you’re throwing yourself on my friend."

"First of all, he was drunk, and when I tried to push him away, he stumbled, and I caught him. That's it"

"That still doesn't explain why you were talking to him, to begin with," he said while raising his voice.

"You could have just asked me why. You didn't have to brush me off."

His tone softened, "I'm sorry, okay, I'm just used to everyone picking my friends over me. I like you a lot, and seeing you with other guys made me jealous and upset." he told you the truth no matter how dumb he might have sounded.

You wanted to kiss him for being so adorable and punch him for being so ignorant to the whole situation.

You cup his cheeks in your palms. "I've only had my eyes on you since you first came in" you leaned into his body.

You could feel him tense up when you wrapped your arms around his waist. His breath quickened, and he was positive you could feel the rapid beating of his heart.

With both your faces inches apart, he completely froze up.

Your eyes travel to his lips, that were too beautiful and soft looking for you not to capture in a sweet kiss.

When he didn't reciprocate your kiss, you removed your hands from his waist, creating distance between the both of you.

He was too nervous to react.

When your lips weren't on his, he instantly regretted not kissing you back, but it was hard to properly function with you so close.

He was sure he had ruined his chances. He was surprised you hadn't already walked away from him by now. That's what everyone else would have done.

He probably shouldn't have had that thought cause the second he did. You were turning in the opposite direction of him.

A once in a lifetime opportunity, and he fucked it up cause he was too nervous. He felt so pathetic while he watched to go back into the club, leaving him completely alone.

He leaned against his car for a few seconds pondering on what he could have done differently.

There were too many things to count on his fingers.

He sighs, unlocking his door. Before he could get inside, You interrupted his departure from the club yet again.

"Leaving without me?" You say playfully, waving a bottle of Hennessy.

Your voice made him jump out of fear dropping his keys in the process.

"I-I wasn't. I was just about to" his eyes scanned the parking lot for a feasible excuse, but he couldn't find one.

"About to?" You ask, encouraging him to finish.

"Leave," he whispered with his eyes locked on the ground.

You pouted, "I thought we were going to have some fun," you feigned sadness in your tone as you traced your finger all the way down his chest, stopping at his belt buckle and tugging on it, causing him to stumble forward.

"I just thought" you cut off his sentence by palming the front of his jeans, making him gasp.

"I thought I told you not to think" you use a bit more pressure on the area, already feeling him start to harden. You watched his face intently. He looked so cute with his clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows trying his hardest not to make any sounds, all while leaning into your touch.

You needed him, and you needed him now. You removed your hands from him completely, he leaned against his car, trying to catch his breath.

You bend down to grab his keys "passenger seat now" is all you have to say for him to scramble to the other side of the vehicle.

"My place or yours" your hand was occupied with the belt on his jeans while you awaited his answer.

"Y-yours," he balls his fists tightly while you back out of the driveway, still fumbling with his belt that had started to annoy you.

You hum lowly when you finally get it undone and again. Another obstacle was in your way.

He almost instantly noticed your frustration and quickly helped you undo his button, even going as far as to pull down his zipper for you.

"Good boy," you praised him as a small whine left his lips when your cold hand met his semi-hard cock.

"Oh my god," he grips your wrist tightly, throwing his head back in pleasure.

You laugh slightly at his expressiveness, slowly rubbing him up and down.

Your movement was restricted from the waistband of his underwear. He lifts his hips to pull his pants and underwear down.

His eagerness was making it really hard for you to stay focused. You wanted to pull over off to the side of the road and have your way with him right then and there.

You were so lost in thought that the movement of your hand completely stopped. You only noticed when he bucked his hips up and started to writhe in his seat.

Your attention was immediately back on him. Now that his clothing was out of the way, you had easy access to everything. You brush your fingertips along his balls all the way up his shaft, stroking his cock slowly.

"Fuck” he mutters but quickly covers his mouth. He instinctively thrusts up into your hand.

"Stay still," you say sternly, but he didn't listen. You glanced to your side, ready to chastise him, but you couldn't even be mad. The way he looked using your hand to get off was just way too satisfying.

Finally, you reached your destination, parking crookedly in the driveway.

"Baby, can you do something for me?" He nodded his head while he continued using your hand for his pleasure. You halted your movement pressing his thigh into the seat.

"I know it feels good, but there's only so much I can do in this small space. How about we go inside, yeah?" you kissed his lips momentarily while he readjusted his pants.

"Yeah," he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, leaning against the headrest as much as he tried to prepare his rapid beating heart for what was to come next. He found it impossible.

Your knock on his car window whisked away his thoughts as he opened the door.

You dragged him to your steps, unlocking the door and leading him to your bedroom.

He stood in front of you awkwardly with his pants still half undone. You push him on the bed softly. "Let's play a game" you straddle his lap, resting your palms on his hard chest.

"A game?" He questions. Making you nod your head.

"For each piece of clothing we remove, we're gonna take a shot, okay?"

"Okay," he immediately agrees with a cute smile on his lips.

You start by taking his shirt off, "one," you twist the cap off the bottle, pouring him a shot.

He drinks it right away, wincing from the strong taste. A small chuckle escapes him "now you" he pulls your shirt over your head.

His eyes flutter to the back of his head from seeing your bare chest. He didn't expect you to be braless. He lifts his hands to touch you but quickly lets them fall back to his sides.

You take his hands and place them on your breasts. He ghosts his fingertips over your chest, just barely getting a feel of you.

You took your shot straight from the bottle.

He watched you in amazement at your tolerance for the strong alcohol. "It's already your turn again," you giggle from the warm feeling that began to course throughout your body.

Unfortunately for him, he was still in his socks and shoes "do the shoes count?" He asked curiously with an innocent look in his eye. He wanted to follow the rules so bad, but it was getting harder and harder by the minute.

Normally you would have said yes, but his expression was enough for you to give in "no, baby, the shoes don't count."

"Yes!" He says excitedly.

"But you have to take two shots in a row" you couldn't let him off that easily and besides, he still needed to loosen up more.

When you reached for the bottle to pour him a shot, he took it from your hands, drinking straight from the bottle just like you did. He held eye contact with you the whole time, sending a chill down your spine. You gripped his shoulders, grinding down on him softly.

He set the bottle aside, taking you by surprise when he held your hips, guiding you to grind hard on his jean-covered cock.

He could tell the shots were having an effect on him. He would have never made such a bold move if he had been sober.

"Slow down, baby. We still have six more layers to go" you stand up, removing your skirt to give him a full view of your lower half.

He stood up along with you pouring you your third shot "drink up," he gripped your ass firmly, bringing the small glass to your lips. His breath got caught in his throat as he watched you lick the remainder of the liquid off your bottom lip.

"I guess it's my turn again" by now, the shots had definitely started to kick in his voice was at least three octaves deeper his touch wasn't as gentle, and he was the one to initiate the kiss this time.

Once he pulled away from your reddened lips, he removed his jeans, and all of a sudden, you couldn't focus on anything but the sizable print inside his boxers and the small wet patch on the front.

His body formed goosebumps all over when you stared at him. He felt so exposed, but there was something about you staring at him with so much desire that made his cock twitch.

He slowly brought his hand to his crotch area. Stroking himself through his underwear, he tilted his head back. His eyes were tightly shut as his forehead creased from the pleasuring sensation.

"Good boy"

"Y/n," He moaned your name with a shaky breath. Not even a minute had gone by, yet he was completely solid in the confines of his boxers that stretched even further to accommodate what was underneath them.

After a while, you physically couldn't take anymore. You were sure your panties were soaked, and the throbbing between your legs couldn't be ignored any longer, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t much better off.

Four more shots in, and now you were both naked, eyes looking everywhere except each other's. His size almost had you drooling. You were dying to have his cock inside your mouth again, but that would have to wait for another time.

His eyes scanned over your gorgeous body, taking in each and every inch of it "you're so beautiful," he whispered, placing his hands on your hips.

"So are you" you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a gentle peck "lay back for me" he laid his back on the bed, waiting for you to do whatever you wanted to him.

You climb on top of him, his tip brushing softly against your entrance, causing a moan to fall from his adorable pouty lips and yours as well.

You raise his arms above his head, trailing your fingers down to his biceps and eventually to his sweaty chest. You stuck your tongue out, swirling it around his hard nipples while he squirmed under you.

"Y/n f-feels so good."

"I can tell, baby boy" your tongue traveled all the way to his abdomen, teasing him just above the area that needed your attention the most.

"Please," he mutters weakly in an attempt for you to stop teasing him.

"Shh, patience, baby," you tell him. Grabbing the alcohol from the nightstand, You poured some of the liquid into his belly button, swirling your tongue inside gently before drinking the substance from his navel.

"Ah, ahh," he moans breathily back, arching off the bed as you licked every last drop from his belly button. "Please do that again," he begs, lifting his hips off the mattress practically humping the air.

"With pleasure," you repeated your actions loving the sinful whimpers that came from him.

You straddle his waist again, grinding on his dick, not even caring about how loud you were moaning.

Each time you rubbed your arousal covered pussy on his throbbing cock, you could see it glisten from your wetness and his precum.

You used your free hand to guide his tip at your entrance, sinking down on his length, giving you both the relief that you so desperately needed.

He couldn't tell if it was the shots that made him dizzy or how tightly your cunt had gripped his cock, but he knew one thing for sure was that it felt like heaven and when you bounced up and down on his thick cock he saw stars.

You touched his bottom lip with your thumb "open" you could barely even finish the word, and his mouth was already wide open. His eagerness for your each and every command would be the death of you.

Taking one final shot, you swirled your tongue around, marveling at the rich taste. You leaned down to open your mouth, transferring the shot into his mouth. He sat upward, swallowing his sixth shot of the night. You attached your lips to his kissing him roughly.

"Such a good boy," you bit down on his bottom lip, sticking your tongue inside his mouth, tasting the remnants of alcohol on his tongue.

You take hold of his hands, pinning them to the bed. He whines into the kiss, trying to keep up with you but ultimately failing. The overwhelming pleasure was too much. His mouth feel wide open, allowing you to suck on his tongue as his saliva spilled from the corners of his lips.

He was a complete mess, body covered in sweat, hair ruffled, and his abdomen covered in your arousal.

The stretch that his cock provided was absolute heaven each time you rocked back and forth. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic area, stimulating you perfectly.

All he could do was lay there and take everything that you were giving him while whimpering nonstop from how good you rode his dick.

You used your other hand to massage his nipple, adding even more pleasure for him, so much pleasure that he couldn't hold back any longer even if he wanted to.

His whimpers and cries of your name turned into high pitched moans that increased when you sped up the movement of your hips, riding his dick faster.

His body jerked violently as his back arched off the bed. You sucked on his tongue harshly as his cock throbbed inside you.

He coated your walls with his hot releases filling you up to the brim.

He thrusts his hips into you wildly, sending you over the edge "fuck” you cry out in pleasure, clenching his cock incredibly tight as you hit the strongest orgasm you've ever had.

You laced your fingers with his riding him through both of your orgasms. Your pussy squeezed out every single last drop of his cum, driving him into overstimulation.

He let out cry-like moans with his eyes tightly shut while squeezing your hands. "T-too much," he says, panting against your lips.

"Sorry, baby," you pecked his forehead, resting your head on his chest with him still buried deep inside you, but neither of you would rather have it any other way.

Long beats of silence float around in the room as he wraps his arms around your waist, holding you as close to him as possible.

"I love you," he whispers in your ear out of nowhere. You laughed at him unintentionally, but you found him to be so adorable.

You weren't aware but you laughing at him shattered his tender heart. W-why are you laughing?"

"Cause baby, it's impossible to love someone you don't even know" you brushed his hair away from his forehead, revealing his furrowed brows and a dead serious look on his face.

"I do, though," he fought back.

"You do?" You ask, curiosity laced in your tone. He nodded his head cutely with the same eagernesses he had shown all night. "Prove it then," you challenged him.

"I will," he replies, determined to make you his. "I'll be the best boyfriend to you ever. I swear it, please just give me a chance" out of the two nights you've known him, this was the most confident you've ever seen him and arguably the most confident he's ever been. Deep down, he knew he'd do anything it took to have you and if that meant coming out of his shy awkward shell, then so be it.

"A chance won't hurt" you pinched his cheek, smiling at him. You weren't even entirely sure how you felt. You knew you liked him, but love was a very strong word and a word you weren't quite ready to profess.

On top of everything else, you were sure he didn't mean it.

"Thank you. I promise you won't regret it" he holds you tighter as a way to affirm his confession.

"Get some sleep. You have a lot to prove" you kiss his cheek lovingly.

"Goodnight, y/n," he says with a soft voice.

"Goodnight, baby boy" he smiles at the nickname in the dim-lit room. He began to feel his eyes close, and soon after, he drifted off to sleep.

You watched him sleep, holding in your laugh at the cute little snores he let out. You ran your fingers through his hair, placing one last kiss on his lips before falling asleep in his warm embrace.

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

Hey… how y’all doin?👀

Permanent taglist🏷 @hello-stranger24 @ashxsmoon @lhsggg @duolingofanaccount @oceanyocean @jayroseyy @yjwnoot @heeaddict @bambisgirl @woonie-muffin @hee-in @heesgirl @bangchanhasbigfeet @bunhoons @axartia @heeseungleeworld @badidealy @kpopscruggles @scarlet127

Thanks you so much for reading. I hope you all enjoy sorry for any typos/errors, and as always enjoy your day/night🤎

#enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #heeseung smut #enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enha heeseung #engene #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #sub heeseung

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

RE8 AU Incorrect Quotes [Part 2]

I’m currently busy with other writing projects at the moment (mainly this year’s Goretober, because I’ll have to stick to an actual posting schedule if I want to go for thirteen days).

I’m still not sure when I’ll be able to write another fic for this AU, but I definitely haven’t forgotten about it! Until then, here’s more memes. (Thank you for all your patience and understanding, @that-bat )

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: The real secret to immortality? Not dying. You want to be immortal? Okay, that’s easy. Just don’t die. That’s it. Refuse to die. There you go. Ethan Nestor-Winters: But how—? Nate/Lord Ophio: “But how”, you may ask. Well, easy. Just don’t do it. Refuse to. Say “no thanks”.

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Shouldn’t you have something inspiring yet infuriating to say? Hunter/The Baron: Yes, actually. . . Hunter/The Baron: *stands up, clears his throat, straightens his tie* Hunter/The Baron: . . .Smash Mouth was right all along! “The years start coming, and they  d o n ’ t  s t o p  c o m i n g . ”

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: Life is just a hallucination caused by oxygen. Once you stop breathing, it all goes away.

___

Matt/Lord Loxosceles: I'm not creepy. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: I'm petty. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: There's a difference, y’know.

___

Mark/Lord Isurus: I’m a multitasker! Mark/Lord Isurus: I can torture fifteen people at once.

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: Though I admit I don’t know much about you, I am feeling pretty confident in my assessment that you are probably some sort of sick deadly fuck. Hunter/The Baron: Who told you my secret?

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: The “how the fucks” and “why are you so dumbs” don’t matter. All that matters is that I have a new gun.

___

Hunter/The Baron: So, you three are brothers? Mark/Lord Isurus: Only in spirit Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Technically speaking, yes. Nate/Lord Ophio: No.

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Those darn tall people. Nate/Lord Ophio: Darn em’ indeed. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Don’t worry, they'll be gone soon enough. Mark/Lord Isurus: Hahaha. . .

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: *sitting on the roof of The Baron’s Market, quietly talking to an undead raven* Hunter/The Baron: . . .Lord Ophio, what’re you doing? Nate/Lord Ophio: Apparently finding out that Ethan guy is pretty weird. Hunter/The Baron: Ah, so you’re stalking him? Nate/Lord Ophio: No, my pets are just helping me observe from a distance. Hunter/The Baron: Look, it’s none of my business what you decide to do with Mr. Nestor-Winters, but I’m pretty sure that still counts as stalking Nate/Lord Ophio: *pauses, then sends the raven off* Baron, do you know what the difference between people-watching and stalking is? Hunter/The Baron: I might. . . Nate/Lord Ophio: *nods* A restraining order.

___

Hunter/The Baron: Why do you and the other Lords want to kill Mr. Nestor-Winters? Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Have you seen him?! His neck looks so snappable!

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: So, what do you do for a living? Nate/Lord Ophio: I exist against my will

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: I can’t fucking handle this right now! Mark/Lord Isurus: Just remember, if you can’t handle me at my worst. . .I CAN HANDLE ME AT MY WORST, WHICH MAKES ME STRONGER THAN YOU!

___

Hunter/The Baron: Lord Ophio, when’s your birthday? Nate/Lord Ophio: Why? So you can look up my natal chart? So you can figure out my weaknesses? So you can destroy me? Hunter/The Baron: . . .So I know when to wish you a happy birthday.

___

[The Lords are getting ready for a standard ritual event]

Nate/Lord Ophio: Mark is late again. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: How did this happen? I called him at eight o’clock this morning and pretended it was eleven! I even printed up a fake schedule for him saying we were starting at nine instead of noon! Nate/Lord Ophio: I set his clock to say PM when it’s really AM. Hunter/The Baron: *not involved with the upcoming ritual, but is still within earshot of all this* . . .I think you might’ve overdone it, my lords. Mark/Lord Isurus: *bursts through one of the temple’s windows* Mark/Lord Isurus: WHAT FUCKING TIME IS IT?!

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: You don't know anything about me! Hunter/The Baron: I know EVERYTHING about you! You’re an open book written for very disturbed children!

___

[During the Boss Fight between Ethan and Matt]

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Why did you let Miranda turn you into this?! There’s so many better things in the world that you could’ve seen! Matt/Lord Loxosceles: I don’t know, Earwig. Why do you keep letting your hands get ruined?! THERE’S SO MANY WEAPONS IN THE WORLD THAT YOU COULD’VE USED COMPETENTLY!

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: You’re terrible at interacting with people. When you meet someone, what’s your opening line? Nate/Lord Ophio: “Hi, did you have a happy childhood, or are you funny? It can only be one!”

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: It’s strange how well you and that zombie get along. Didn’t he hate you at first? Hunter/The Baron: Lord Ophio hates everybody at first. It’s his way of reaching out to people.

___

Matt/Lord Loxosceles: What’s the plan? Nate/Lord Ophio: I don’t know! You’re smart, *points at Mark* and he’s mean, so come up with something!

___

“Adulting is hard. How do I quit?” Hunter/The Baron: Time travel. Nate/Lord Ophio: Die.

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB? Mark/Lord Isurus: You’re gonna need to be more specific. Are you talking about original birth or rebirth? Nate/Lord Ophio: Bold of you to assume I was born at all. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: I personally metamorphosed in a lab. Hunter/The Baron: I just straight up spawned lol.

___

Mark/Lord Isurus: I technically don’t have anything against you, but I can still make up lots of reasons to attack you!!

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: I’m gonna go check on my scouts. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Oh, please. We’re not children. Nate/Lord Ophio: *leaves* Mark/Lord Isurus: *casually* . . .Eat shit and die. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Yeah, fuck you, too.

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: *writing in his diary with a glitter gel pen* I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There’s blood on my hands.

___

Hunter/The Baron: Why can’t we all just get along? Nate/Lord Ophio: Because most of us are assholes, Baron. I thought that was obvious

___

Mark/Lord Isurus: You know what I’ve realized? Ethan Nestor-Winters: Some thoughts are better left unsaid? Mark/Lord Isurus: Nice try, anyway—

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Are you trying to give me a fucking aneurysm?! Nate/Lord Ophio: Pretty sure we all are. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you came here. Mark/Lord Isurus: To be perfectly fair, you almost gave me one first Hunter/The Baron: I just cause aneurysms naturally.

___

Hunter/The Baron: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? 


Matt/Loxosceles: Maybe a bit tipsy? 


Mark/Lord Isurus: Drunk. 


Nate/Lord Ophio: Wasted. 


Ethan Nestor-Winters: Dead.

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: *trying to hide his gun behind his back* If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true, then WHOEVER’S CONTROLLING MY SIM NEEDS TO COME SEE ME BECAUSE I JUST WANNA TALK—

___

Hunter/The Baron: It’s not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You’ve got to admit though, fire is fascinating.

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: Could you maybe just like. . .stab me. . .right in the gut. Just REALLY twist it in there. ‘Cause that honestly seems less painful than this conversation.

___

Mark/Lord Isurus: Look, try not to roll your eyes at me, alright? I’m not in the fucking mood for that. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: . . .I don’t even have pupils anymore??

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Why do people worry when their life feels incomplete? If it was complete, they would be dead. Hunter/The Baron: . . .Do you have, like, a spirit animal to look up to? Ethan Nestor-Winters: Yeah—roosters! Because they also start every day screaming!

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: Yesterday, I overheard Matt saying “Are you sure this’ll actually work?” and Mark replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

___

Hunter/The Baron: I think I mostly want to see what happens when this whole place breaks apart.

___

Mark/Lord Isurus: Matt, I’m so ready for the Twitch stream with Lady Dimestrescu! It’s gonna be so great! I bought the best laptop your money could buy! Matt/Lord Loxosceles: . . .Did you say MY MONEY? Mark/Lord Isurus: Yeah! It’s even one of those two-for-one foldable ones! Mark/Lord Isurus: *forcibly snaps the laptop’s screen back, breaking it pretty much beyond repair* Matt/Lord Loxosceles: Mark, that was nOT A FOLDABLE LAPTOP. Mark/Lord Isurus: *freezes in place, eyes welling up with tears* ...EuH. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: . . . Mark/Lord Isurus: EuH—!!! Matt/Lord Loxosceles: . . . Mark/Lord Isurus: *gingerly pulls the laptop’s screen back up, letting out a raspy sob* I tHiNk YoU bRoKe It. . !

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: *unconscious on the ground* Hunter/The Baron: Do you think he’s okay? Nate/Lord Ophio: *holding a bucket of ice water* Who cares? *dumps all of the water on Ethan’s face*

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: Mark has no survival skills. His need to win has replaced them. Hunter/The Baron: Prove it. Nate/Lord Ophio: Hey, Mark! Matt said you couldn’t get to the bottom of those stairs faster than him! Mark/Lord Isurus: *Throws himself out a window at the top of the staircase*

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: This is a safety pin. Ethan Nestor-Winters: *cuts off the end of the pin* Ethan Nestor-Winters: It is now a danger pin.

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: I just realized that every person is living a life as vivid and complex as my own. Nate/Lord Ophio: . . . Nate/Lord Ophio: I feel so bad for them.

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: It’s called the Circle of Life because it’s POINTLESS Hunter/The Baron: Haters got you down? Nate/Lord Ophio: I show the haters how it’s DONE! By hating myself more than they ever could! Hunter/The Baron: The point of this was to tell people what the longest part of your morning routine is. Nate/Lord Ophio: FINDING THE WILL TO LIVE

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: Welcome to Fucking Applebees, do you want apples or bees?

Ethan Nestor-Winters: “Bees?”

Mark/Lord Isurus: HE HAS SELECTED THE BEES!

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Wait—

[Matt/Lord Loxosceles approaches, shaking a jar of bumblebees menacingly]

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: I think it’s time I get my life in order. Hunter/The Baron: *narrating* But he did not get his life in order. In fact, he got drunk last night and fought a raccoon.

___

Nate/Lord Ophio: When I admitted that I didn’t know what family I actually came from, Mark told me Mother Miranda must’ve found me in a KFC bucket next to a dumpster. Matt/Lord Loxosceles: . . .I mean, that probably is what happened. Nate/Lord Ophio: Oh crap, maybe that’s the reason why. Maybe my lackluster feelings towards their fried chicken is because subconsciously I'm reliving the trauma whenever I see their trademark bucket. My brain and cognitive dissonance won't let me completely lie to myself and say I hate their food, because fried chicken is great and I want some now, instead it just steers me away. Thank you for helping to guide me towards this epiphany, perhaps now the healing can begin.

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: I’m learning what PEMDAS stands for! Ethan Nestor-Winters: Please-End-My-Depression-And-Suffering!

___

Mark/Lord Isurus: Y'know, I once knew a man who said to me, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” He also had a pair of sideburns that would cause even Jude Law’s face to weep in forfeit. You put those lemons in a sack and beat your enemies with ‘em! And maybe if you beat ‘em hard enough the bag will split open and lemon juice will spray into their eyes, causing intense burning pains as you crush them into a citrus-y pulp! Hunter/The Baron: Wait, wait, wait, wait. Their heads or the lemons? Mark/Lord Isurus: Whatever caves first!

___

Ethan Nestor-Winters: Did you win? Or just not die? Ethan Nestor-Winters: Either way, hooray. Nate/Lord Ophio: . . .Is “no” a valid answer? Ethan Nestor-Winters: The hooray is redacted.

___

#my writing #incorrect quotes #that bat's resident evil village au #re8 au #ethan nestor #crankgameplays #ethan nestor-winters #nathan sharp #natewantstobattle #lord ophio #matthew patrick #matpat #lord loxosceles #mark fischbach #markiplier #lord isurus #hunter hughes #dookieshed #the baron

[hardworlders]

Mandala Volume I Hardworlder | Book 1 - The Office Job Chapter 3: The Target

Is there a price on my head, or am I just hungover?

Paul had a rough night and some strange dreams. He had stayed out clubbing till three in the morning and according to his account, had spent four thousand dollars at bars, strip clubs, and ATMs. There was no one else in his bed, but he had dreamed of two of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. He didn’t think he could have made them up. He wasn’t that creative.

What he was, at least, was rich. He traveled all over the country helping criminals hide their money, which lately meant a lot of crypto wallets and trying to explain the difference between Bitcoin and Monero to people who knew how to manage criminal networks like magic but had never passed a math class. Some trips were covered by his day job, supervising the west coast accounts unit at a large insurance company. He paid his manager three grand a month to fudge the productivity reports and generally make him invisible to management. He laundered his money in the usual ways and had recently made a fortune trading options in an insane bull market. Life was good.

One of his favorite things about his life was staying up all night, which also meant sleeping in. Most days, this wasn’t a problem. He would get up around one, make it to the office after three (already clocked in since eight). However, it was only nine o’ clock and he was wide awake. His phone was ringing for the second time, buried in his clothes on the floor halfway across the room and he kicked two bottles getting to it.

“Hello, Paul?”

He nearly threw it into the wall. It was his therapist. He had weekly sessions about a suicide attempt he only half-remembered. According to the police report, he had tried to drive his car off a bridge and only managed to get it stuck on a curb. He usually got really fucked up before he went, but had just skipped the last two. He figured that since he didn’t remember them anyway, there wouldn’t be any harm in not going at all. His therapist disagreed.

“Paul, I have you down for nine-thirty today. Do you remember when we agreed on that time? You rescheduled twice before, and you assured me this time would work for you. I tried to call you three times last night.”

So that’s who was blowing up his phone in the champagne room.

“I’m not going to be able to make it. I got to go to work.”

“I thought you didn’t go in until the afternoon. Isn’t that the arrangement?”

Paul pulled the phone away from his face and gawked at it. How much had he told this dude?

“Uh, no, what? I just can't make it. Look, I'm doing better, I just—”

“Paul, the court mandated that you attend our sessions. If you don’t show up today, I'll have to report it.”

Shit. He could probably pay him off. But why hadn't he done that before? Had he tried? He couldn’t remember.

“All right, fine. Can you give me a couple of hours? I just got up.”

“I will see you at ten. I’ll have breakfast brought to my office, so don’t worry about eating beforehand. Please expect to stay until eleven. Goodbye.”

He hung up! Paul considered having him dissolved in a barrel somewhere, but something told him he had to go to this session or the heat was going to come down on him hard. He decided just to pop something and head out, but found the condo completely drug-free, nothing but thin amber slivers left in the bottles.

He passed out in the back of the Uber on the way and dreamed of a room with no doors. When he screamed, his voice echoed back as a laugh.

His therapist’s office was halfway up a black glass tower downtown, in a hooked hallway between a hedge fund and a fintech startup. The breakfast spread came from a five-star kitchen at the top and almost made it all worth it. He gave his therapist, Andler, a censored summary of his last few weeks while he finished two plates. Afterward, Andler asked him something he asked every session, or at least the ones Paul remembered. It had never seemed weird before. It did today.

“Any strange dreams lately?”

“No.”

“None?”

“I never dream.”

“Everyone dreams, Paul. Every night. You just might not remember them.” The office was small and minimally furnished, but what was there screamed money. Andler was sitting in a love seat across the coffee table. Paul was sunk into a big leather couch he always struggled not to fall asleep in during their sessions, sipping orange juice and praying for vodka.

“Then I don’t remember them.”

“Paul, you’re sober today for once, which I appreciate, but you usually don’t have any problems talking about your dreams. That tells me you want to, but you think you need the drugs to get up the courage to do so.”

Paul didn’t remember ever telling him about his dreams. Looking back, he could remember being asked, but had no idea what he had said.

“So, you analyze dreams? I thought that was outdated.”

“I don’t analyze them in the Freudian sense, no. However, they can be useful for you to talk about.”

“Like, what I say I feel about my dreams is more important than what you think they symbolize?”

“You could say that.”

Paul ate more of the scones and drank some coffee. He watched the river glitter behind the downtown skyline out the massive floor-to-ceiling window and wondered if any patients ever tried to throw themselves out of it.

“Paul, you really can't recall any of your dreams? You told me last month you would try to remember as many as you could.”

Andler moved his papers around in his folder. Paul hated it. Despite his efforts, there was more of him in those pages than on this side of the coffee table. Maybe coming here high had been a bad idea.

“It was one of our goals, the first one. ‘I will try to remember my dreams. I think they are important. That’s what you wrote right here.”

Andler showed him the paper with his handwriting. Paul didn’t remember writing it. He looked at it like he was giving it serious thought and imagined some maniac throwing Andler through the window.

“We talked about lucid dreaming, how a friend told you about it and you felt it would be helpful to you.”

Paul smiled and nodded. His friend had said “Bruh, you can fuck any girl you want, any way you want when you go lucid. I fuck porn stars two at a time every night”. It had sounded legit.

“Do you remember any of your dreams this week?”

Paul thought about the two girls from last night, which was easy as he had been thinking about them off and on all morning, and decided it would be funny to see Andler’s reaction. He couldn’t imagine the guy even discussing sex. If those two girls showed up at Andler’s house, he’d probably make them tea and ask them about their dads.

“Well, last night I dreamed about two girls, the hottest girls I've ever seen, I mean ever. I don’t know how my mind did it. I'm not creative enough to come up with girls that hot, you know?”

Andler’s reaction was not what Paul had expected. He got very still and seemed to be waiting for Paul to give some grand confession.

“What did these girls want from you?”

Paul laughed and spilled his coffee.

“Are you a robot, Andler?”

Andler didn’t laugh, and something in his not laughing killed Paul's laughter. Was he analyzing his dreams for real?

“Did they ask you anything?” Andler said.

“Uh, yea, you know, normal girl shit. Where I worked, how much I made, what I do for fun.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I don’t know why, but I told them about my job, that I worked for an insurance company. It was weird but, they seemed really interested. Like they thought it was cool that I worked there. What's that mean?”

Andler took a moment to snap out of whatever thoughts he was having.

“It could be a sign that you want to be that person, to take pride in your job. The idea of someone liking you for that seems to be something you want. What else did they ask you?”

“Uh, where the good clubs were, stuff about the city. I think they were from out of town. What does that mean?”

“What else did they ask you?” Paul usually took no shit from anyone, and by all rights he should have backhanded Andler for his tone alone, not to mention ignoring his question, but something had come over him and he couldn’t even consider doing anything besides answering truthfully.

“They asked me where I would be tomorrow. I mean today. They wanted to see me again.”

“What else?”

“That’s it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Sorry.” Paul couldn’t remember the last time he had apologized to anyone.

Andler sat back and sighed.

“Well, I want you to think about what you think that dream means and tell me about it next session. And try to remember any other dreams you have. We talked about dream journals a few sessions ago. I suggest you try your best to write in yours regularly.” There was a pause.

“Are we done?” Paul asked. It had only been half an hour.

“Yes.” Andler didn’t offer any other explanation, and Paul remembered he didn’t want to be there anyway, so he got up and left.

When he was gone, Andler took out his phone.

“He just left. Someone’s trying to get to him. No. I don’t know. Two girls, it seems. Got his P.O.E. Understood. No. Well, call me if they do so, and I’ll get him up.”

He hung up and went behind the desk, pulled the carpet up, and opened a floor safe. He took out a Beretta Px4 with a custom grip, a pouch of three magazines and some car keys, then grabbed his other keys off the desk and went out the door.

Continue

#mandala #the office job #edward eidolon #web fiction #serial fiction #new weird #cyberpunk #dreampunk #dreamcore #lucid dreams #indie books #fiction #web serial #web novel #serial novel #sci fi #writeblr

[aphroditestummyrolls]

😌👍🏻

#when I am reminded that I am a person with a real corporeal form #like a body??? that I currently inhabit??? #I am possessed by a desperate need to do hurt myself #like... I know every single thing that needs to change but I just can’t DO ANYTHING that gives immediate relief #I’m not a person #I can’t be a person until my body is perfect #it’s ELEVEN O CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING #tw eating disorder #tw anorexia #tw body horror

[dominantslasherking]

Chucky with a dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Backstory: Chucky falls into an obsessive type of love with Andy's adopted older brother which is you.

"Andy, Andy, look at me!" You screamed at the boy, who just woke up from having nightmares muttering the name 'Chucky,' After the death of his and your mother he came to move in with you.

Andy told you it was his doll Chucky who killed her, but you had no idea since you weren't visiting at the house most times.

Considering he was so young, you assumed he replaced the unknown killer with a doll to make it seem less gruesome in his mind.

It has been three years since the death of your and Andy's mother, Andy was eleven at the moment. And he had repeated nightmares about his doll Chucky.

You truly did want to believe Andy, but it was so hard you weren't there, but you should have been. "I don't wanna lose you too." Andy whimpered out, clinging onto you for dear life.

"It's okay," You gently whispered in his ear soothingly, humming a small tune until he relaxed.

You broke out of his grasp and smiled at him as he slowly laid back down and looked at you, "Leave the night light on?" He muttered out. You turned on the rocket-shaped night light with a smile. "Ok, Get some good sleep for school in the morning." Placing a kiss on your little brother's head with a smile and started petting his hair before exiting the room.

Once you left the room and made sure there was a crack in the door which seemed out a dim light, you made your way to the kitchen and looked through the fridge.

"Man...I need to go shopping." Tilting your head towards the clock you grinned happily, "8:05, Hmm, the store closes at 9..." You rushed forward to the door and grabbed your keys.

You opened the front door and locked it behind you.

<<>>><<>>>><<>>><<>>>><<>>><<<<<>>>>>>>><<<<<>>>>>>>>><>>>>><>

Charles tilted his sunglasses slightly down watching the woman in the store, who he was stalking of course pick out some things. "Excuse me, but do you know where the..peaches are?" Charles asked with a slight grin at the woman. "Of course, they should be down there, then turn left to the fresh food section!" The woman happily peeped out, gently pushing her red curly hair behind her.

"Have..I- Seen you before?" The woman muttered out in awe at his face, Charles let out a fake cough, "I just...seem to have a familiar face...hah.." Charles nearly grumbled out, he wanted to kill her, but since she saw his face up close she might spread rumors about seeing the famous serial killer lurking around even though he was supposed to be dead, he was also planning to kill her anyway so win, win.

"I guess so.." The woman warily spoke, "Well thank you.." Chucky gave a fake smile as he walked away from the woman the fake smile suddenly fell off his face and was replaced with a snarl.

Chucky wasn't looking where he was going as he was looking at the floor and imagining himself brutally killing the bitch. "What the hell-" Chucky growled out as he fell flat on his ass, his sunglasses falling off his face.

"Watch where you are going as-" The slasher spluttered on his words once he saw your face- why the fuck were you so handsome-!

"Sorry- I'm such an idiot here let me help you-" You suddenly bent down and held your veiny hand out. Chucky looked at your hand and smacked it away.

He suddenly stood up on his own and looked at you, "It's...fine..." Chucky seemed to be lost in thought while looking directly into your eyes. You awkwardly stood there and smiled at him.

"Well, I'm glad your alright, I'm going to finish my shopping then.." You spoke to him but he didn't even utter another word to your confusion.

Chucky suddenly started to hold back some laughs as a wide smile appeared on his face, his mind no longer lingering on the lady he was stalking but instead, you.

<>><<>>><<<<>>>>>>><>>>>><>><><><><><>>>>>>>>>><<<<<>>>>>>>>

It was perfect other than the fact that he killed your mother and tried to kill your little brother, I mean Andy wouldn't recognize him in his human body right? A new addition to the family wouldn't hurt.

Chucky wanted to be yours, god the more he stalked you the more insane he got. He wanted you to press against him and claim him.

At first, he thought this feeling was just a want or a need to kill you and taint your handsome features with your own blood.

Even if he has to play nice with that little brat Andy, he doesn't care, he wants you, needs you, and he's going to have you, even if he has to play the bad guy.

#charles lee ray x reader #slasher imagines #slashers x reader #Chucky x male reader #Charles lee ray x male reader #slasher x male reader #Yandere Chucky x reader #Yandere chucky #Yandere Chucky x male reader #Yandere slasher x reader

[mxngldmxdnsss]

amber - michael afton

pairing - michael x reader

michael is still kind of a douchebag in this sorry 😣

cw! underwear stealing joke, groping (?), dirty jokes, first kiss, a little bit of steaminess (?) - you guys are teens, everyone knows teenagers have hormones it’s nothing new.

warning : a bit of light romance and steaminess : proceed with caution!

Of all people to be paired with for this damn project, you were paired with Michael, Michael Afton. The school’s biggest fucking bully. Even you had faced some of his teasing, you grumbled getting your bag out of your locker. Suddenly you heard a loud BANG next to your head, startled, you turned around, looming over you was the boy himself. You didn’t cower in fear by the sight of him like others but that didn’t stop you from feeling your heart race and adrenaline pump.

Shrinking back, you awaited whatever Michael had in store for you. “You’re the twerp that stupid bald fuck put me with?” Nodding your head, you glanced up at him, Michael was attractive you couldn’t lie. His wavy mullet always kept to the highest level of clean and styled, cheeks always prominent with a tan, even in the winter he found ways to go outside and come back sunburned. But that didn’t mean people were constantly fawning over him, it was the opposite, he was handsome, really, but his personality made people scatter with his presence. Hearing a scoff you looked up, Michael seemed to be looking around, realizing the both of you were completely alone.

“Tomorrow I’ll stop by your house, we’ll get this bullshit project done and I’ll be outta your pretty little hair, got it.” You expected him to demand you finish the project and let him take credit for half of it, but you didn’t know what was worse, him making you do it alone, or him going over to your house. You were screwed. Walking side by side next to Michael, who had to be at least six foot, even at this age. It was awkward, you figured Michael would take off a different way, but you guessed you both lived close to each other. You wanted to walk a little faster, leaving Michael behind but you knew not to make it seem like you were scared of him, that was always his gateway to teasing.

Finally, you spotted your house, as soon as you made it to your walkway you turned to leave, only to feel a strong arm wrap around your waist. “Can’t even spare me a goodbye?” You whipped your head around, finding yourself staring up at Michael. “Oh- uh..goodbye..” Placing your hands on Michael’s chest, you attempted to pull away, finding that you couldn’t, you looked back up at Michael, a smug smile dawning on his face. A low chuckle erupted from his chest, making you flush red. “I’ll see you tomorrow dollface.” If you could allow your eye to twitch you would’ve, but Michael let you go before you could protest.

Walking away, you stormed back into your house and up to your room, that boy was stupid. You threw your bag onto the bed and looked around your room. Sighing, you began to clean up a bit, even though tomorrow was Saturday, a day you usually slept in some, Michael was going to come over. Cursing under your breath, you flopped back into your bed, blushing when you remembered how Michael had grabbed you. Even as vile as he seemed, you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering when you thought of him.

The next morning, you woke up at nine am, earlier than you would’ve liked but it gave you enough time to get up, make yourself breakfast and begin to get your notes and project materials ready. Sitting back down on your bed, you reluctantly realized you should change out of your pajamas, throwing on whatever was comfortable and somewhat presentable, you awaited the knocking at your front door. When it didn’t come by the time eleven o’ clock hit, you grumbled, making your way to the kitchen to prepare lunch. Sitting down at the table, you got ready to dig in, when a sudden knock came at the front door. You scowled, getting up and answering the door, there stood Michael, his hair styled as per usual, but this time, he wore a band t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Mornin’” Stepping to the side you let Michael in, watching as he looked around, taking in the surroundings, before turning around to face you. Closing the door, you sighed, making your way into the kitchen and serving Michael a portion, coming back out, you placed it on the table, right across from you. “Are you hungry?”

You watched as Michael seemingly scarfed down his food, wondering if he’d even eaten breakfast beforehand. Finishing your own plate, you got up and took your plate to the sink, rinsing and washing it off before placing it in the dish rack. Turning back to the dining room, you watched as Michael got up and did the same as you. Silence as you stepped aside and watched as he cleaned his plate. “Oh, we’ll be doing the project in my room.” Hearing a snicker, you looked up, watching as Michael smugly smirked, you could already assume he’d made a dirty joke in his mind, rolling your eyes, you showed Michael the way to your room. By the time you looked back at Michael, he was already flopped on your bed, making himself comfortable as he poked through the material. Climbing onto the bed, you swatted Michael’s hands away from everything and got out your notes and directions for the project.

Time seemed to be going slowly, finding yourself becoming more and more irritated with the fact that you two couldn’t hurry and finish the simple assignment. Halfway through you asked Michael if he wanted a snack, escaping his presence for a couple of minutes while you grabbed a drink for the both of you and fixed something to eat. Making your way upstairs, you were relieved to find Michael still on your bed, scared he would get up and snoop around, maybe even steal some of your underwear. You giggled at the thought, offering Michael some of the food. “What’re you laughin about?”

You shook your head and sat in front of Michael, taking a break from the project and re-energizing. You hadn’t even realize how close you two were until Michael’s hand ghosted over your knee, jerking away, you looked at Michael, seeing a smirk crack on his face. Blushing, you cleared your throat. “What you don’t like it when I do that?” Giggling you shook your head and leaned away, taking this as initiative, Michael leaned forward, a playful look on his face. When he reached for you, you got up, smiling when Michael looked over at you. Suddenly you were running around the room, while Michael chased after you. You didn’t even know why you two were all of a sudden acting like little children. Michael grabbed you and pressed you against the wall, you giggled, looking up at him, eyes widening realizing how close Michael was. You pressed your hands against his chest, flushing red when he leaned down, with his face right in front of you, you bit your lip, before fisting through Michael’s shirt playfully. As soon as Michael leaned forward, trying to kiss you, you ripped yourself from his gripped and tried climbing over the bed.

Although you had made it out of his hold, it wouldn’t be for long, Michael pinned you against the bed, grabbing you by your shoulders and flattening his legs on yours. You squealed, trying to push Michael off, but his body was much heavier than you expected. Breathing hard, you looked up at Michael, a wide grin on his face. You gazed at his eyes before glancing at his lips, seeing Michael do the same, you gulped. Leaning forward, Michael loosened his grip on you, looping his arms around your waist before pressing his lips to yours. You were still surprised even though you knew it was coming. Gasping as Michael meshed his mouth to yours, whining, Michael pulled away for a moment, before catching your lips in a kiss again. You wrapped your arms around Michael’s neck, whimpering when you felt Michael lick your bottom lip, before hesitantly opening up your mouth.

Michael was quick to explore your mouth, taking pride in himself when you moaned against his lips. Feeling Michael pull you closer, you took the opportunity to run your fingers through Michael’s hair, pulling away you needed hair. Panting, you rested back onto the bed, closing your eyes for a moment you felt Michael begin pressing kisses to your neck. Whining when Michael began nibbling and sucking at your collarbone, you ran your hands down Michael’s back, your fingers dipping into his muscles.

Pulling away, Michael marveled at the hickey he left on your neck. Looking down, you scoffed seeing the purpling bruise. “Really?” Michael only chuckled under his breath, grabbing at the fat of your ass to hear you gasp. Massaging your ass before grabbing at your thighs, before letting go, and pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’d love to do more, shame you didn’t tell me beforehand you were gonna seduce me.”

Your jaw slacked and you shoved Michael’s shoulder. “As if.” Rolling you eyes, you sat up with a wide smile on your face. “Whatever you say babe, how about after this I take you out mm? Yeah? Okay.” Michael smirked when you shook your head and snorted. He was gonna love this.

#Spotify #michael afton x reader #michael afton #311 #amber

[dilly-oh]

Don’t Forget to Tip

It's Ass-o' Clock in the morning during Kakashi's third night shift in a row when the cafe's front door is shoved open by a frazzled-looking young man who staggers to the counter like a zombie looking for fresh, steamy brains.

“Hi, I'd like a cup of the strongest brew you have, and could you please just throw the coffee directly onto my face?” the guy says, completely deadpan. “I want to be scalded.”

Kakashi studies the face in question. It's a nice face, honestly. Lovely brown eyes, slightly-chapped lips, a faded scar across the bridge of the nose. It'd be a shame to ruin in.

“...I think I might get fired for that,” he finally says after a long moment.

“I'll tip.”

“Still a no.”

“But I'm asking for it! What kind of service is this?!” the man huffs in outrage, banging a fist on the counter. Kakashi studies him further, taking in the designer bags under his eyes, rumpled clothing and messy ponytail. The guy looks five seconds from a nervous breakdown. Kakashi isn't certain whether the coffee will soothe his nerves or send him over the edge.

“...Bad day, huh?” he asks gently.

“The worst.” The guy groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “I don't know why I thought teaching high-schoolers would be fun, I really don't. I've been grading for four hours straight and losing a little more faith in humanity every minute. I kinda wanna die right now.”

“Same,” Kakashi says, grabbing a cup and a pen. “Can I get a name?”

“Iruka,” the man replies, “and if you draw a dolphin on there I swear to God I'll climb over this counter and stab you with that pen.”

“Of course not,” Kakashi, who had been just about to do exactly that, says innocently. “What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“How many sugars am I legally allowed to have put in?” Iruka asks, leaning over the counter to watch as Kakashi moves toward the back.

“Ten,” he throws over his shoulder, “but just for you, I'll put in eleven.”

“Cool, I'm definitely tipping.”

Kakashi hums quietly as he works, losing himself in the familiar rhythm of preparing the coffee. The next few minutes are peacefully quiet as he inhales the rich aroma of the beans, a scent he always finds relaxing-

“So, what do you do?” Kakashi blinks and looks over at Iruka, who is studying him with a critical eye. “Come on, I can tell you don't do this for a living. Your eyes aren't dead inside.”

“Okay, you got me,” Kakashi admits with a shrug, continuing to work as he talks. “I only fill in occasionally when the other workers call in. I work at a kennel. It's not too bad. The dogs mostly just eat, sleep, fight and hump each other.”

“You just described my entire class to a T,” Iruka states matter-of-factly.

“I'm sure they're not that bad-”

“Today I got into an hour-long argument with a student who insisted that 'yeet' was a verb.”

“...Okay but you gotta admit he's kinda got a point-”

“Another turned in a paper comparing 'YOLO' to 'Carpe Diem'. It caused me physical pain.”

“...Again, they're not wrong-”

“Another student argued that Fortnite was a perfect example of Darwin's theory of 'Survival of the Fittest'.”

“Yeah, okay, that crosses the line. Here, maybe this will help,” Kakashi says, placing the steaming cup of coffee on the counter. Iruka's eyes widen with joy and he cradles the cup lovingly before chugging down nearly half of it in a single gulp. “Whoa, whoa, slow down, you're gonna burn your throat-”

“It's worth it,” Iruka chokes out, coming up for air. “Also, it'll give me an excuse not to yell at the kids tomorrow. I've been trying to save my voice. I swear they make me blow out my vocal cords once a week.”

“Damn, man.” Kakashi winces in sympathy. “They sound like a real handful.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” Iruka gives him a wicked grin that gives Kakashi equally wicked thoughts. “They're good kids, deep down. Except for Sasuke. Fuck that kid.” He goes back to drinking his coffee like its the nectar of the gods and Kakashi can't help but feel overly generous.

“Here, have a muffin. You deserve it.” He snatches a stale blueberry muffin from the display box, shoving it into a paper bag and placing it in front of Iruka, who blinks in surprise.

“For free?”

“You get a Cute-Guy discount.”

“That is an awful way to run a business,” Iruka snorts. Kakashi hesitantly moves to take the bag back. “I didn't say no.” He chuckles and leaves it be. “Thanks...Kakashi,” Iruka says, reading off of Kakashi's name tag. “This cafe is nice. I'll drop by more often. Maybe I'll see you again.”

“Maybe,” Kakashi replies, fingers crossed. Iruka pulls out his wallet and pays for his coffee, then crams a whole ten into the tip jar on the counter. “Holy shit, you don't have to-” Kakashi begins, aghast.

“It's cool, you get a Cute-Guy tip,” Iruka says with a wink that makes Kakashi flush. He takes a bite out of his muffin and his eyes roll up in their sockets as he moans obscenely. Kakashi's knees go so weak and wobbly he has to steady himself on the counter. “Thanks for not, you know, actually doing what I asked and throwing coffee in my face,” Iruka continues, mouth full of muffin. “My brain tends to stop working after prolonged exposure to those brats and their homework.”

“No problem,” Kakashi replies, still struggling to recover full use of his legs. “I wouldn't have wanted to ruin such a nice face, anyway.”

“Oh really?” Iruka raises an eyebrow. “Well then, here's an extra tip, just for you.” He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a scrap of paper, scribbles on it with red pen for a moment, then shoves it into the tip jar before waltzing out, coffee and muffin in hand. Kakashi watches him go, the bell tinkling in farewell, before taking the paper out and unfolding it.

It's a phone number. Kakashi wonders how long he should wait to reply to not seem creepy.

He'll give it ten minutes.

(Written for @kakairu-fest KakaIru Month 2021, Day Nine Prompt: Bartender/Barista AU)

#kakairu #KakaIru Month 2021 #bartender/barista au #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #naruto

[phasmwrites]

connected || bakugou katsuki

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Female!Reader Warnings: Smut (18+) Word Count: 6238 A/N: This is a part of the bnharem pen pals collab that can be found here! I don’t really know how I feel about this fic, so please be kind, I hope you all can find some enjoyment in it 💖 tagging @lady-bakuhoe​ @ramen-rambles​ @redbeanteax​ ily guys so much 😭

MOD DEKU [Today at 20:43 PM] 

Hello everyone of the All Might Fanclub Discord! Welcome back to another week where we discuss our favorite hero, All Might! This week’s discussion topic is: Which battle of All Might’s is your favorite? Be sure to let us know down below! 

Y/N [Today at 20:46 PM] 

I think All Might’s first fight back in Japan has got to be my favorite, against that sludge villain? He saved two kids and fought back when none of the heroes could!

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:46 PM]

Uh, fuck no. First of all, the one who was ‘captured’ didn’t need anyone’s help, alright? It was obvious he was about to kick the villain’s ass before All Might even got there.

 Y/N [Today at 20:47 PM]

It kind of looked like he did need help- 👀

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:47 PM]

Well you’re obviously a fucking idiot, as per usual.

 Y/N [Today at 20:47 PM]

Excuse me?! 

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:48 PM]

Did you forget how to read? I said you’re a fucking. idiot. as. usual.

 Y/N [Today at 20:48 PM]

Okay then, what’s your favorite fight, asshole?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:48 PM]

Fuck you, I don’t have to tell you shit. 

 MOD DEKU [Today at 20:49 PM] 

Enough @Y/N @NumberOneHero this is the FOURTH time the two of you have gotten into a fight within this server. This is meant to be a fun place to discuss All Might, if you two refuse to stop bickering I will have no choice but to remove you both from the server, this is your final warning.

 Y/N [Today at 20:50 PM]

I’m sorry 😔 it won’t happen again!

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:51 PM]

Whatever.

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 You slammed your phone down onto your nightstand in frustration, yet again finding yourself irate from the childish behavior of the one guy in the Discord server you joined roughly two months ago. It had started out as a way for you to talk to others about one of your favorite pro-heroes of your childhood, but slowly you began to resent the notifications you received all because of one asshole. The fact that you even slipped down to his level, spewing out insults in return just made your stomach churn with self-loathing. 

The cellular device laid face down on your wooden table taunted you, as you wanted to apologize for your rude remarks only minutes earlier. Even if you didn’t receive an apology in return, which you were fully prepared not to, it would clear your guilty conscience, right?

That was when your phone buzzed with a private message notification from him.

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 NumberOneHero [Today at 21:01 PM]

FUCK YOU, IF DEKU DIDN'T RUN IN TRYING TO "SAVE" THE OTHER KID, HE WOULD HAVE DEFEATED THE SHITTY VILLAIN WITH NO PROBLEM. THERE WAS OBVIOUSLY JUST TOO MANY EXTRAS GETTING INVOLVED, BUT YOU DON'T SEEM SMART ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND.

 Y/N [Today at 21:01 PM]

Wow okay 💀 you really had to dm me to insult me some more? What are you, seven?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 21:02 PM]

I'M JUST TELLING YOU FACTS, IDIOT. WHAT MORE WOULD I HAVE TO SAY?

 Y/N [Today at 21:03 PM]

I don't know, maybe try to have a conversation without the screaming, like a normal person?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 21:03 PM]

I'M NOT SCREAMING.

YOU'RE NOT WORTH MY TIME ANYWAYS.

 Y/N [Today at 21:04 PM]

Ouch, my poor heart 🤧 whatever shall i do...some stranger on the internet yelled at me

 NumberOneHero [Today at 21:04 PM]

FOR FUCKS SAKE, I'M NOT YELLING.

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 A few days had passed from your conversation with the asshole on Discord and you had made the decision to mute the server over the weekend to avoid receiving notifications from it. You knew you would only feel compelled to speak to people, and you weren’t ready to deal with some stranger berating you once more. Although you did find their rage humorous, you had preferred to not be called an idiot each and every time you pressed ‘enter’ on a message. 

The weekend had slipped past your vision in a haze mixed with avoiding responsibilities and sleeping excessively. It almost seemed like no time had passed from the moment you left work on Friday and returned early Monday morning and before you knew it, you were seated at your desk at work twirling a pen between your fingers. 

The closer the clock on the wall crawled towards the afternoon, the quieter the office had become with less people power-walking through. Working for a pro-hero’s agency often meant that the hallways would be bustling with activity, but you found yourself enjoying the brief moment of serenity between eleven and noon. 

“Bakugou! I saw you were in that new All Might documentary bro!” That was of course until pro-hero Red Riot’s voice suddenly echoed through the lobby. You perked your head up and watched both him and Ground Zero begin making their way towards the elevators, “How does it feel being a movie star?”

Bakugou grunted in immediate response, elbowing Kirishima in his ribs to push him out of his personal space, “It was just an interview, you idiot.”  

The files in the ash-blonde’s grip intrigued you, knowing exactly where he had planned on dropping them off, your desk. Of course, rather than gently lay them on your desk, he allows the documents to drop unceremoniously onto the hardwood, scattering all within your vicinity. Your jaw unhinged at the sheer audacity of him. 

“Hey! You could have just handed them to me!” Your voice carried throughout the third floor; this had been nothing new between the two of you though. He always seemed to find new ways to get under your skin, whether that involved referring to you as his shitty secretary or casually dropping scattered reports onto your desk. He always saunted off towards the elevators with an arrogant smirk painted on his lips while you could practically feel the steam releasing out of your eardrums.

Bakugou Katsuki was one of the most chauvinistic heroes you had ever met, let alone worked for, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart palpitated just a bit harder when he was around. Snapping you out of your train of thought, the phone placed near your computer began to obnoxiously rattle, reminding you to finally take your lunch. Before you retreated from your desk, you made sure to jot down on a sticky note to look further into the documentary the two of them had been speaking of minutes earlier... 

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

Y/N [Today at 19:34 PM]

Hey, did you see that new All Might documentary that came out? 

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:19 PM]

Why the fuck are you messaging me…

Yes, I did.

 Y/N [Today at 20:21 PM]

Honestly, that’s a good question 🤔 I’ll just find someone else from the server to ask, peace out.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:22 PM]

Dramatic much? The film was fine, I enjoyed it. 

 Y/N [Today at 20:23 PM]

I liked it too! I really thought it was cool to get an insight from a few of his old students when he taught at Yuuei, especially those who are popular pro-heroes today.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:23 PM]

Oh yeah? You got a favorite?

 Y/N [Today at 20:24 PM]

Deku’s pretty neat! He’s got a lot of potential…

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:24 PM]

Give me more reasons to dislike you, why don’t you.

 Y/N [Today at 20:24 PM]

But- hey I wasn’t finished!

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:25 PM]

Why the fuck did you send the message then?

 Y/N [Today at 20:25 PM]

Are you like some strange 40-year old man who doesn’t understand texting? 

Sometimes people send

Multiple

Messages

To

Talk

Grandpa

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:26 PM]

I’m 24 dumbass. 

 Y/N [Today at 20:27 PM]

ANYWAYS, I was going to bring up Ground Zero that despite being an asshole, I appreciate his brutal honesty. 

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:27 PM]

Oh? 

 Y/N [Today at 20:27 PM]

Yeah, I can’t deny he’s got a pretty face to look at, but that attitude 🤢

Are you a big fan of him or something? Your insults sound like his 🤮

 NumberOneHero [Today at 20:41 PM]

Something like that. 

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 If one more person attempted to push your buttons at work on this particular evening, you were nearly positive you would develop a quirk just to fling said person out the third story window. The past few weeks had been nothing short of boring, the only “excitement” being the new ways Bakugou attempted to get on your nerves whenever he could.

One would assume after six months of working for him, he would have run out of ideas or even find himself tiresome of it...Bakugou was anything but that. So when he appeared from around the corner with his pace set on reaching your desk, the audible groan that befell your lips didn’t land on deaf ears. 

“Oi, you got a problem?” He cocked one eyebrow up, muscular forearms pressed against the counter of your desk as he rested his chin on himself, “I didn’t realize you were getting paid to bitch and moan.”

You glared at the ridiculously attractive blonde opposite of you in response, “What do you want, Bakugou?” 

“I need you to bring up the villain from last week’s file, ya know, the one with the nasty squid ink quirk? Police want to look over the witness statements and phone calls we received on our end.” He explained, circling around your desk so that his large frame loomed over yours. 

With a curt nod, you began unlocking your desktop and accessing the criminal database that the agency had on hand. Your mind grew preoccupied with the task at hand, entering information into the filters in an attempt to find the files you entered in only a few days prior.

“No, dumbass, I captured the fucker on Thursday, not Friday.” His husky voice centimeters from your complexion had you nearly leaping out of your skin, the realization of just how close he was causing your face to grow warm. You rationalized it by placing blame on the body heat radiating off of him, but it was difficult to even think when he leaned over and laid his palm over yours.

He maneuvered the mouse along the screen, your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling of his large hand, fingers pressing into yours to click the buttons. In an attempt to quell the perspiration accumulating on your palms, your eyes trained on the digital screen in front of you. On the other hand, Bakugou seemed to be none the wiser, “Tch, you know there’s a much easier way to find the file, see?”

After only a few more clicks, the files were pulled up and you could feel the snicker that fell on his lips. He examined the documents, red eyes narrowed as he searched for the specific page with the witness testimonies and statements.  

“Send this to my office’s printer, would you?” His voice that crooned in your ear felt like velvet and for a moment you questioned if he was aware of his actions and just the effect they had on you and your frazzled brain.

All at once, Bakugou leaned back and began making his way back to his own office, shouting about how the papers better be out of the goddamn printer by the time he opened his door. You managed to do as asked, retreating to the bathroom moments later to splash freezing cold water over your face. 

The rational side of you wanted to punch his cocky demeanor square in the jaw, but another part of you, one that you attempted to hide, desired to silence his snarky comments with your lips pressed to his. Why must he have such an effect on you? 

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:01 PM]

Oi, did you die or something?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:11 PM]

Answer, idiot. I can clearly see you’re online.

 Y/N [Today at 23:12 PM]

Ok but why do you care 💀

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:14 PM]

I don’t, but people on the server have been wondering where you’ve been. 

 Y/N [Today at 23:17 PM]

Oh I didn’t mean to worry them omg 😭 I’ve just felt bad because for a while it was just you and I bickering,, so I didn’t want to bring anymore negativity to what’s supposed to be a server honoring All Might. 

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:19 PM]

Well they miss your shitty puns and stupid fun facts and I’m sick of having to read their bitching, so get back on already. 

 Y/N [Today at 23:20 PM]

Yeah, okay...thanks...I guess you’re not as much of an asshole as you try to portray 🤪

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:20 PM]

That face is disgusting.

 Y/N [Today at 23:21 PM]

🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:21 PM]

Why did I even bother wasting my life messaging you?

 Y/N [Today at 23:22 PM]

That’s your problem, buddy. 

So, tell me more about you.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:23 PM]

Why do you give a shit?

 Y/N [Today at 23:24 PM]

I mean, it’d be nice to know I’m not talking to a 50-year old man who’s going to try and solicit me for sex. 

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:24 PM]

You’re delusional.

 Y/N [Today at 23:25 PM]

No, I’m just cautious, thank you. You said you’re 24 right? Me too!

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:25 PM]

Cool.

 Y/N [Today at 23:25 PM]

What’s your name? 

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:26 PM]

I’m not fucking telling you.

 Y/N [Today at 23:27 PM]

Fine, dickhead suits you better anyways 🤷

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:28 PM]

Fuck you.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 23:41 PM]

You can call me K, I guess.

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 When you arrived nearly a half an hour late into work the next morning, you were anxiously awaiting for Bakugou to tear you apart with his foul mouth and harsh glare. Instead, you were notified by one of his sidekicks that he would be coming in closer to lunchtime, off running some early morning patrols. 

This gave you ample opportunity to take a small nap at your desk when the telephone remained silent, lack of sleep catching up to you as your forehead met the hardwood desk. You had spent a majority of the night talking with K and surprisingly he wasn’t as unpleasant once you broke past the initial barrier of crass and attitude. 

He explained how he had been one of All Might’s students when he was in High School, recounting numerous memories between him and the former Number One Hero. You were so fascinated by it all, awestruck in the wonderful stories he had to share about the man you and your family had looked up to for decades. Although you don’t regret losing sleep when it was the price to pay to hear more about All Might, your body punished you nonetheless with dreary eyes and a slight headache.

Just as you began to fall asleep yet again, the phone at your side began to ring with Bakugou’s specific ringer. You could hardly manage out a single syllable as you pressed your fingertip against the speaker button, “Hm?”  

“Wake up and come to my office, shitty woman.” He hung up abruptly, refusing to give you the option to retaliate with a harsh comment of your own. 

Your body felt heavy as you trudged down the long and narrow hallway towards his office. The double doors remained shut, allowing you to appear sluggish in stature without him making a rude remark about it. Once you reached the dark wooden doors, you straightened up and stepped through the threshold. 

“What took you so long-” Bakugou began to raise his voice, but was promptly interrupted when his mouth parted wide on its own accord, releasing a rather vocal yawn. He turned towards the row of glass windows overlooking the city, hand clasped over his lips.  

Outside of your control, you reciprocated and yawned just as loud as he had. It seemed like the pro-hero hadn’t gotten much sleep either, from what you assumed to be work-related...or even something more personal. 

“Are you fucking listening?” You were snapped out of your daze by Bakugou’s explosive tone, his body now shuffling towards you until he was within arm’s reach, “Tch, did you actually fall asleep at your desk?”

Shaking your head, you hoped he would believe you, “No, why would you even think-”

“You got some drool on your face, Princess.” The sudden nickname had your stomach doing somersaults, but it was when he reached out a hand to cradle the side of your cheek that had your breath growing shallow. 

Your eyes studied his expression as he swiped away at the drool on the corner of your lip with the pad of his thumb. His own half-lidded pair transitioned his focus onto your chin, pulling your jaw down with light force so that your mouth parted wider. 

Every atom of your being screamed for him to kiss you, to slant his lips over yours and claim you as his after all these months of bickering, but the two of you were promptly broken out of your spell when he received a phone call. 

“Shit...” Bakugou shuffled over to his desk to snatch his cell phone that laid on top of a stack of folders, “You see these reports? They’re pretty old but they need to be entered in the system, finish it before you leave the office today.”

With that, he left his office spewing insults into the phone that had been harshly pressed to his ear. Your fingers reached up to your complexion, digits pressing into the skin of your bottom lip at the thought of kissing him. Bakugou’s intentions were shrouded in mystery, one you still were unable to solve. 

“Whatever.” You sighed to yourself, rounding his massive desk to grab the tall stack of files.

When you managed to gather them in your arms, you promptly took notice of the framed trading card they had been hiding in their wake. Layered with tempered glass was one of the limited edition All Might cards that you remembered once begging your parents for as a mere child. 

One could have gotten lost watching the myriad of colors reflect off of the holographic card, but the tall stack of documentation in your grasp was starting to grow heavy. You made a mental note to ask Bakugou about the card when you got the chance, curious as to how he was able to obtain such a rare card from so many years ago. 

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 Y/N [Today at 22:10 PM]

Attachment: 1 Image

Look! My All Might figurine from the Silver Age came in!

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:12 PM]

Looks cheap and fake.

 Y/N [Today at 22:13 PM]

Okay, rude. 😤 It’s limited edition and I have the paperwork to prove it’s real.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:20 PM]

I got a question for you.

 Y/N [Today at 22:21 PM]

Okay? Spill.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:22 PM]

Since I’m assuming you’re telling the truth when you say you’re a woman, how do you ask one out?

 Y/N [Today at 22:22 PM]

Huh? You got a crush or something?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:23 PM]

Something like that, I’ve never been into shitty romance before.

 Y/N [Today at 22:24 PM]

Omg! Have you ever kissed anyone?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:25 PM]

Listen, I’ve done a lot of shit, but I’ve never fucking asked someone out for the actual purpose of a date before. 

 Y/N [Today at 22:25 PM]

I don’t know if that’s sad or adorable?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:27 PM]

Fuck off, forget it.

 Y/N [Today at 22:28 PM]

Sorry! Sorry okay well who’s the woman? How do you know her?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:30 PM]

She’s worked at my office for a year.

Maybe longer.

It doesn’t fucking matter, how do I ask her out? 

 Y/N [Today at 22:31 PM]

Oh! That’s easy, ask her if she’d like to get dinner with you after work then! 🥰

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:31 PM]

There’s nothing else I need to do?

 Y/N [Today at 22:32 PM]

I mean, you could buy flowers if you’re really trying to make her swoon.

Make sure she’s not allergic to any first, or that date won’t be happening.

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:32 PM]

How the fuck would I know if she’s allergic?

 Y/N [Today at 22:33 PM]

I don’t know bud, ask? Ask someone she knows?

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:33 PM]

Fuck, whatever, fine, thanks. 

I’m not your ‘bud’. 

 Y/N [Today at 22:35 PM]

Whatever you say, good luck!

 NumberOneHero [Today at 22:40 PM]

By the way.

Your shitty fake figurine will never beat the Limited Edition card I own.

Attachment: 1 Image

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 You had never dreaded coming into work more than you did on this particular morning. It was only last night, after two months of speaking to the enigma that was NumberOneHero, did you discover that he was none other than Bakugou Katsuki. The man you had been bantering with for months within both the server and the direct messages was the man you worked for, but also the man you foolishly developed feelings for. 

Just the thought of having to witness him with a bouquet of flowers intended for someone else made your heart sink within your chest. You hadn’t worked for him for a year, let alone longer, so your mind grew plagued with doubt the longer you sat on this revelation. 

When a photo came in on your phone from the ‘mysterious stranger’, the last thing you expected to see was the familiar framework that kept Bakugou’s All Might card intact. The color of the desk matched, along with the brand of monitor that sat next to the frame.

You couldn’t stop staring at the messages, re-reading through old conversations realizing that everything he said and did reflected himself and you were so stupid not to realize sooner. The most mortifying thing for you was the fact you had admitted that you were attracted to him, even if he had no idea it was actually you. 

The sound of loud footsteps against the tiled flooring snapped your attention to the one man you didn’t want to see today, his clothing a stark contrast to his usual attire. He had sent his sidekicks out to run patrols and aid with arrests today, stating that he needed to stay in the office to handle paperwork. 

“Do you know how to tie a tie, woman?” Bakugou's voice grumbled out to you, his fingers curled around the loose fabric in his grasp.

You nodded slowly, standing from your chair to reach where he stood, “Yeah, kind of.”

“Kind of?” He snorted, button nose scrunched up in amusement, “What the shit does that mean, you either do or you don’t, dumbass.”

“Give me the damn tie.” You grumbled, snatching it from his hand as you began to set it for him. Much to your surprise, his lips remained pressed against one another as he watched you adjust the knot.

When you had finished, you glanced up at the ash-blonde only to gasp at the proximity of his face to yours while he expressed his gratitude, “Thanks.”

Before you could allow your heart to sink deeper into your infatuation, you rushed out of the lobby with speed that neither of you anticipated. You needed to get away from him, from these feelings that burdened your chest, so you slipped away into the restroom to escape his presence. 

Bakugou attempted to call out your name, eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as he tried to understand your sudden distress. As he began to follow your previous footsteps, he noticed your phone had slipped from your pocket and was now laid face down against the cold tiles. 

The last thing Bakugou expected to witness on your phone as the screen illuminated with messages was his online alias glowing back at him. 

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 NumberOneHero [Yesterday at 22:45 PM]

Listen, I don’t do this often but I wanted to genuinely say thank you.

 NumberOneHero [Yesterday at 22:49 PM]

You might be a thorn in my side, but I’ve come to enjoy talking to you or whatever.

 NumberOneHero [Yesterday at 22:54 PM]

Yeah, that’s it.

 ・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・☆・・・・

 Being called into Bakugou’s office was nothing new, but the trepidation you felt when his piercing gaze met yours had your entire figure growing cold. He suddenly appeared more intimidating, with the way he stood tall while leaning against the edge of his custom crafted desk. In his grasp was your two week’s notice, your eyes focused on the trail of smoke that rose from the paper. 

“When did you know it was me?” He cut straight to the point, haphazardly throwing the letter in the direction of his trash, “How did you know it was me?”

It now made sense why your phone had suddenly appeared on your desk after you swore to yourself that it had been in your pocket. 

Your mouth grew dry the closer he drew himself to you, red eyes drinking in your appearance, “You sent the photo of the All Might card that’s on your desk, I recognized it.” 

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, “Why didn’t you fucking say anything?!” 

“Why? Isn’t it obvious why I wouldn’t say anything?” Your breathing grew harsher at the overwhelming emotions flowing through you, deciding now than ever that you were going to make an absolute fool of yourself before exiting this agency forever.

“No, it’s not.” He snapped back, arms crossed over his chest, “Care to fucking explain?” 

All at once the dam you had built around yourself was cracked at the heart, drowning you in your pent up feelings, “I gave you advice on how to ask someone out, Bakugou, I don’t want to watch you use it on some other woman-”

“Why not?” His voice altered drastically from only moments prior, as if he was choking over his own tongue.

The way his fiery irises held your gaze had you unable to move, as much as you wanted to retreat from his office only to never step foot in it again you found your feet glued to the floor beneath you. 

“Because I have feelings for you idiot-” Not another word, syllable, nor breath escaped past your lips before Bakugou’s lips suddenly crashed to yours. His large palms cradled your complexion as he poured every bit of emotion he could muster into kissing you senseless.

After the initial shock had come and gone, you tossed all caution to the wind and returned his affection, arms locked around his neck as his mouth slanted over yours. Kissing Bakugou was nothing like you had anticipated; his lips were soft, hands careful as he slid them over your neck, down your figure until fingers eventually curled at your hips. 

He made an effort to tease you in the process, a gasp passing your lips when his hand squeezed at your waist. This allowed him the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours, leaving no corner of your mouth untouched by him. 

Your hand blazed up to lace your fingers in his ash-blonde locks, pulling harshly in hopes of eliciting a reaction. It did of course, a low groan reverberating from his chest as he began to force you towards the opposite side of his office.   

“Good, because for some fucking reason I can’t get you out of my head either.” He breathed out against your lips the moment the back of your thighs met the edge of his desk, “I’ve wanted you for months, idiot.” 

You leaped up onto the hardwood, legs dangled over the edge as he shoved himself between your parted legs almost immediately, “Bakugou…” 

“I have a meeting in fifteen minutes-” He suddenly groaned at the reminder as his head bowed, the quiet notification promptly alerting him from his desktop. 

When he brought his attention back to you, he nearly lost the ability to breathe at the needy look in your eyes, and the next few words that you spoke, “Show me what you can do in that time, then.”

The airy laugh that escaped his throat was one of disbelief, but it quickly melted into a quiet moan when he suddenly felt your hand cup his hardening cock through his work pants. You smirked victoriously as you pressed the heel of your palm further against his growing erection. 

“Fuckin’ tease.” Bakugou snarled as he finally swatted your hand away from him, instead opting to slide your body further off of the desk so that he could press himself perfectly against your dampening leggings. 

He ground his cock against your heat, a small whine falling from your lips before he brought his own back onto yours and swallowed every noise that you emitted with great enthusiasm. This wasn’t the most ideal situation; Bakugou wanted to ask you out properly, he wanted to take it slow and build the anticipation through every little date. 

Despite that, he refused to deny himself the satisfaction of witnessing you in such a state of debauchery for the first time. He ghosted his lips over your jaw, trailing his mouth towards the expanse of your neck while you desperately pulled his top out of his pants. Your cool fingertips glided along the skin beneath his dress shirt, goosebumps suddenly rising along the back of his neck. 

Button by button you undid the black top, sliding it down his broad shoulders and thick biceps once the last one was out of place. Bakugou’s teeth pressed harsher into your neck, leaving multiple love bites along your jugular in his wake.

“We’re running out of time.” You gasped, clumsily fondling with yet another button, this time the one located on his work bottoms. 

Bakugou groaned as you used your heel-clad feet to fully slide his pants down his thighs, his cock sprung free the moment his briefs followed suit. The sight of his thick cock had you nearly salivating already, disappointed you wouldn’t get the opportunity yet to wrap the head drooling with precum around your tongue. 

“Now who’s wasting time, just staring at my cock like that?” He dug his nails into the fabric of your leggings, tearing them apart where the seam met halfway. Your cunt was glistening from just how wet you were already, his eyes rolling at the realization you hadn’t been wearing panties, “Tch, you expected to get fucked today, dirty girl?”

You mewled at the nickname before realizing just what he had asked, “Oh, all my panties are in the wash...so…” 

Only you could get Bakugou to let out a genuine chuckle as he leaned over to dip two thick fingers between your sopping wet folds, his nose just barely brushed up against yours. 

“I really fucking hate to make this quick…” His teeth met his bottom lip, plunging his fingers inside of you as he wasted no time in scissoring them against your tight walls, “...but I’m gonna make it up to you, baby.” 

You cried out at both the name and the feeling of him stretching you out with just his fingers alone, your pussy more than ready to handle him with how wet you were. He pulled out of you, making a quick show of lapping up your juices with his tongue twirling around his digits. 

“Next time I’m gonna get a taste of that sweet cunt with my head buried between those thighs,” Bakugou exclaimed, adjusting himself so that he could begin to tease you with the head of his cock. 

He wrapped his hand around his girth, slowly easing himself past your folds as his lips met yours yet again in yet another fleeting kiss. Your mind was whirling at just how quickly things had changed, one moment you were ready to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been between you two, to feeling his cock stretch out your walls so deliciously as he sheathed himself inside of you.

“Fuck, your pussy feels like heaven.” Bakugou’s own resolve was already wavering as your walls were so constricting around him, greedily taking every inch with fevered enthusiasm. Your limbs locked themselves to his frame, arms chained at his neck and legs locked at his waist once his balls rested against you.

You dug your heels into his back, urging him to move, “Fuck me already, Katsuki.”

The use of his given name without even asking sparked something inside of him, his hips rolling back only to start pounding into you with reckless abandon. His balls slapped against you with every thrust, his cock stroking your walls while he smirked at the sudden change in your demeanor.

Your tongue lolled past your lips, eyes staring at him pleadingly, “Oh, fuck-”

“That’s it, Princess.” Bakugou sneered, nails digging into the plush of your thighs as he studied your every expression, “You feel that? You feel my fat cock stretching out your slutty little hole?”

Nodding, you began to rut your hips up in hopes of meeting him with every thrust, but he had enough of you misunderstanding who’s actually in charge. He used one hand to still your movements, making sure to keep up with his own before using the other hand to grip harshly at your throat. 

You let out a sharp breath of air before it was snatched from your lungs, Bakugou’s red eyes watching with utter amusement as he used his strong fingers to choke you. The way he forced his dominating power onto you had your cunt squeezing his cock in a vice grip. 

The feeling within your lower abdomen tightened every time the throbbing head of his cock met that spongy wall inside of you. Of course, it wasn’t enough and Bakugou was perceptive enough to notice. 

Releasing your hip, he smirked proudly at the way you remained submissive to him, his fingers reaching for your sensitive clit as he began rubbing quick, tight circles against you. He let go of your throat just long enough for you to gasp for air, taking it from you yet again when he knew you wouldn’t go unconscious on him.

“Shit, baby, I’m so close…” His fingers only moved quicker on your engorged bud, refusing to allow himself to cum until you fell apart first, “You gonna cum for me first right? Fuck I want to watch you cum around my cock, come on, be a good girl, fucking cum-”

The guttural cry that managed to slip past your constricted throat was loud enough you both knew he’d have to come up with some excuse for the noise, your pussy clenching down on him as you came all over his cock and custom hardwood desk. With the feeling of you so tight around his length, paired with the sight of your eyes crossed and drool trailing down your chin, Bakugou came as well, releasing a husky groan past gritted teeth.

He pumped hot ropes of thick cum inside of you, hips stuttering and muscles relaxing as he nearly collapsed onto your blissed out figure. You were able to breathe properly once more when he released his hold on your throat, small red indents from his quirk slightly setting off evident on your skin.

“Hey, how am I supposed to leave this office with my leggings torn to shreds?” Were the first words spoken between the two of you, a small giggle passing your lips at the way Bakugou groaned into where his face buried itself into your clothed breasts.

He finally stood up and checked the time, cursing to himself at how he was at least ten minutes late to this meeting, “Stay here, I’ll figure something out when I get back.”

You watched him quickly redress himself, nearly tumbling onto the floor as he shimmied his way back into his pants. Meanwhile, cum was slowly dripping past your folds as you sat bare-assed on his desk. 

“But I have to go back to work too!” 

“Nah, you’re fired.” Bakugou smirked, now fully dressed and running his fingers through his disheveled ash-blonde locks, “I want to date you properly, dumbass, the whole secretary thing will cause problems. Besides, I can get you a job with one of the extras I went to school with.” 

You let out a breath you hadn’t even noticed you were holding, “Fine, Bakugou, only because you got it all figured out already.”

“It’s Katsuki, you had no problem using it earlier to rile me up, you fuckin’ tease.” He pinched at your waist, amused at the way you leaped up in surprise before pressing multiple pecks to your lips. 

After promising to take you out to dinner once his meeting was over, he kissed you one more time before he left the room and you to your own devices. When you began to scour his office in search of spare clothing, you could hear the voice of Kirishima from outside Bakugou’s office door.

“Seriously, dude?! Everyone could hear you, good luck explaining that to the other pros who heard your secretary screaming from the lobby.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #phasm.writings

[littlemisslol-fic]

The Silent Opera

Chapter Three: Allegro, Allegro

Summary: In a world populated by Soulmates— people drawn together by wordless music connecting them to their destined other half— Varian is an anomaly. He is Songless, someone without a Soulmate of his own. He makes due with the cards dealt to him, used to being the castle oddity by now, but when an interesting blond takes up residence in the castle, he can't help but be drawn to him.

Hugo, on the other hand, is horrified to find that not only is his Soulmate a palace brat, but that Varian doesn't hear him back— meaning Hugo is trapped in a one-sided bond. When presented with a horrible choice between completing the theft Donella had sent him to do, or taking a frightening step into vulnerability, Hugo finds himself at an impasse he just might not be able to charm his way out of.

And then politics get involved.

Notes: Things are brewing on the horizon, both good and bad.

Hugo’s only on his second week of alchemical assistant-hood when shit hits the fan. Varian’s already in an awful mood as per usual, grumbling and grumpy as they wander down the ever-winding halls of Corona castle. Hugo definitely has no idea where they are; he follows Varian like a little duckling, unable to find his own way to whichever conference room they’ve been summoned to.

And isn’t that a strange development? Apparently being the royal alchemist’s assistant is enough to get Hugo invited to meetings now. If Donella knew, she’d absolutely lose her goddamn mind. Hugo’s already planning on messaging her tonight; surely he’s bound to hear something useful at a royal meeting. Even if he doesn’t know what to listen for, surely Donella could make something of the information. Unless she kills him for managing to fall ass-backward into the good graces of the royal family. It’s a fifty-fifty shot.

Either way.

Varian stalks the halls like a pissed off cat, Hugo dogging his steps. It’s early, too fucking early; sunlight’s only just started to drift through the windows, bouncing off the floors and making Hugo squint. From the way Varian shuffles, he’s not having a great morning either.

“Seven in the morning,” Varian mutters, “why seven, why not ten, or eleven?”

“Unsurprising that the sunshine princess is an early bird,” Hugo yawns, shoving his glasses askew to rub at his eye. Varian snorts, shaking his head.

“Ridiculous.” His tone leaves no room for debate. “No Sun-fearing man is up this early. I bet you five gold Eugene’s still asleep."

“No way am I taking that bet.” Not on Fitzherbert, at least.

Hugo huffs out a laugh; he can’t help it. Varian’s mouth quirks a bit, just enough that Hugo catches the expression before it settles back into a scowl. Varian pauses outside a small, unassuming door, quietly toying with his hair. He makes a face at Hugo, or more specifically, Hugo’s clothes, grimacing before shaking his head.

“It’ll have to do,” he says, spinning on his heel and cracking the door open. Prick.

Hugo tries to ignore the skittering pitch of nerves in Varian’s Song. His own mouth feels dry, his hands tense at his side; in cases like this, he’s got to care about his own shit before he can care about Varian’s. Priorities, people.

He follows Varian into the room beyond, trying to school his face into something flat, something unassuming. Something that hides the small punch of confusion when he walks into a comfortable sitting room instead of a great hall.

It’s warm, cozy. A roaring fire is in one corner, surrounded by plush couches and chairs; Hugo would swear he feels his feet sink into the thick carpet. Most of the couches are already taken, Rapunzel, Nigel, and the King and Queen all turn to look at them when they enter. True to Varian’s prediction, Fitzherbert is dead asleep on the couch next to his wife. If it wasn’t ass-o-clock in the morning, Hugo could almost find it in him to laugh. Varian awkwardly waves, shrinking a bit under the blatant stares, and shuffles to the only open spot left. It’s… oh. Ew.

Hugo ends up silently sitting next to Varian on a comfortable love seat. It’s soft, so soft, but being this close to Varian, only inches away from their thighs brushing… it’s awkward, to say the least. Hugo shuffles to the side, nearly hugging the cushioned arm in a quiet desperation to put space between them. Varian does the same, trying to be casual as he nearly leans over the other arm. Ha. Well at least they’re both miserable about it.

Rapunzel looks between the two of them, her eyes calculating, before a smile spreads across her face. Hugo has no idea what the hell that means, but before he can puzzle it out she starts talking.

“Well, since we’re all here, good morning everyone!” she chirps, clapping her hands and standing up from the couch. Fitzherbert snaps awake with a snerk noise, the man looking around blearily. Varian muffles a laugh into his fist. He coughs roughly into his fist, the Song twittering in amusement as Eugene sleepily glares at them all. Hugo bites the inside of his cheek, trying to hold it together. He fails.

Rapunzel leans down and presses a kiss to her husband’s hairline, before standing tall again. Hugo leans back into the pillows, trying to force himself to stop fidgeting— fake it until you make it, asshole. The princess lifts a large piece of rolled up paper from behind the couch, sitting back down and unrolling it on the surface of the coffee table.

“We have a teensy tiny problem,” she says. Varian’s brows knit together, the younger alchemist leaning forward to inspect the paper— a map. Hugo chances as much of a look as he dares; he’s still not sure why, exactly, he’s here, so he doesn’t want to seem too invested lest they question it too.

“What kind of problem?” Varian’s tone sinks, something almost like apprehension creeping in. “I thought— the borders?”

“Are fine.” Rapunzel gently smooths out the map, weighing it down with a nearby ink pot.

“The princess means,” ah, fucking Nigel’s started up at last, Maker knows he can’t keep his nose out of things for long, “that with the looming… issues, we will need more supplies than normal. Our farmers can’t produce enough to reliably support what we need them to.”

Varian scowls at that. Hugo winces when the Song goes sharp. “Of course they can’t.” Varian’s leg begins to bounce. “You only gave them a month’s warning; how could they be ready? It’s not like plants just happen.”

Nigel looks down to his clipboard, lifting a paper and reading. “Ah, yes,” he says, “I nearly forgot about your… humble beginnings. Next time we need agricultural advice, I’ll be sure to consult you.”

Hugo can feel the offense rolling off Varian in waves. Apparently so can Rapunzel, as she steps in quickly before someone gets punched. “Regardless,” she says with a firmness to her voice, “the point still stands. I was hoping, Varian, that you and Hugo would be able to look into something to help the crops grow… a little faster! Or stronger.” She plays with a bit of her hair, spinning it around her finger. It’s a nervous thing, the conman in Hugo can see it from a mile away. He logs the information for later, also taking note of how the Song in his thoughts settle the second she starts talking. They’re close, he thinks, closer than they seem.

Varian leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “How fast are we talking?”

His question hangs in the air.

“Well,” this time it’s Frederick that begins to speak. Hugo had nearly forgotten he was there. “The diplomat from Socria will be here in a week’s time.” Somehow, despite the fire, the air turns frigid. Rapunzel winces: even Fitzherbert seems a bit more awake. Varian… is oddly frozen. They haven’t known each other for long, but Hugo’s already gotten used to the other alchemist’s manic energy, the constant twitchiness; Varian is like a storm, always moving, onto the next thing. To see him freeze, like a deer caught in a trap, is strange. Unnerving, even.

“A week,” he says, voice flat. The king fixes him with a look, not so much full of contempt as disdain.

“A week,” the man repeats. “We’ll begin moving onto the next step so long as everything goes to plan. And it will, won’t it, boy?”

Varian sits back in his chair. Meets the king’s eye. Hugo feels his stomach drop out from under him, breath catching in something close to nervousness when the Song shrieks with fury. Varian’s challenging the king. Fucking insanity. Hugo shuffles back as Varian’s jaw tenses. Rapunzel’s eyes flit between Varian and Frederick, nervous, but unable to step in as Varian refuses to break eye contact. Instead, his face settles back into an impassive mask, unwilling to back down.

“Of course, sire.”

The agreement rings in the air, every bit a defiant fuck you as Varian could have projected. If Hugo wasn’t caught up in being piss terrified of what kind of suicidal game the other alchemist is playing, he’d nearly call it impressive. To have that much venom in three tiny words. The king scowls, looks ready to spit something else, when Varian snubs him one last time by turning away and catching Rapunzel’s eye.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he tells her. She smiles but clears her throat and jerks her chin toward Hugo quietly.

Varian’s eye snaps to him, and good Maker, he doesn’t like that glare aimed at him. “What we can do,” he finally grits out. Hugo has never wanted to die more than he does in this moment. He’s not sure what kind of game the princess is playing, but if it ends with Hugo in the crosshairs of the guy who was building bombs when he was fifteen… well, he can’t say he’s not feeling nervous.

Rapunzel’s face splits into a grin, a real one this time. “Wonderful!” she chirps, pushing forward despite the obvious tension. “In that case I’ll let you guys get to work. Have fun, you two!”

Sure. Fun.

That’s a word for it.

Varian stands, then. He leaves the room without so much as a goodbye, and Hugo feels the need to follow him as quietly as he can; there is no fucking way he’s sticking around for the shitshow that’s sure to follow in that room. The princess had been obviously ready to tear into her father the second Varian turned his back, and if there’s one thing Hugo doesn’t want to watch, it’s family drama.

They find themselves back in the hallway. The sun’s up by now, a warm glow that wraps the hallways in an ethereal light. True to predictions, the second the door closes behind them Rapunzel starts to snappishly turn on her father. Family drama. Gotta love it. Varian sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t acknowledge the angry voices they leave behind, instead opting to wave Hugo into following him down the hall.

“It’s too fucking early for this,” he says.

Hugo can’t agree more.

—————♪—————

Somehow, they end up back in the fucking library.

Hugo has half a mind to go take a catnap behind the desk— push old man Bagley out of the way and claim a napping spot for his own— but Varian’s frowning face puts a stop to it. They’ve claimed Varian’s usual table; Hugo’s got his feet kicked up on the surface, leaning back in his chair until the legs creak. Varian’s across from him, tapping at his chin with a pen. The beat of the tap-taps sync’s up with Hugo’s Song; he tries not to let it distract him. Varian huffs, shuffling his blank papers together in an attempt to look busy.

“Where do we even start?” Hugo asks him. “Don’t you just toss seeds in the field and call it a day?”

Varian shoots him an unimpressed look, pausing his tapping. “It’s more complicated than that,” he grouches, “there’s all kinds of factors in getting plants to grow. Tossing seeds is just one of them.”

“And since when did you have the green thumb?” Hugo’s chair makes a clack as he brings his feet back down, settling the chair on all four legs again.

“Since I was born on a farm, Hugo.” Varian’s tone gets a little more strained. “You heard Nigel; we don’t all grow up well off.”

Hugo pauses for a second, ready to call out the hypocrisy of Varian telling Hugo that, of all people, before he just catches himself. His fake back-story, the one Donella had given him, was for a kid who’d grown up in a castle. Ironic.

“Well, whatever,” he brushes it off, trying to move on. “What’s the plan, farmer goggles?”

The corner of Varian’s mouth quirks up at the nickname— the Song flitters in amusement for a second before settling back down— and he sighs. “I’m not sure,” he says, his nose curling like he’s constipated. “We can start with agricultural books, maybe something’s hiding in the old Saporian texts…”

“You can read Saporian?”

Varian’s mouth curls into a smirk. “What, like it’s hard?”

Hugo can’t help but pull a face as Varian spins on his heel and begins to walk toward the shelves.

“Look in the agricultural section for now,” he tells Hugo, “we’ll start simple and work from there.”

—————♪—————

Simple is a relative concept.

The next three days are spent buried under books, countless hours of research and conceptualization. Varian scowls as he jots down every avenue he can think of to solve the problem presented to them; Hugo will gladly admit he doesn’t do shit for a majority of this time.

Instead, he finds a book written by Demanitus on the reactions of strong water and aqua regia, something that Donella had been looking into for a new type of propellant. It’s interesting enough, and Hugo’s already come close enough to solving problems for the royals; anymore and they might start to get suspicious why a supposed bookkeepercan outpace their precious royal alchemist.

Either way, maybe Demanitus has something useful to say. So far nothing, but a guy can dream.

Varian himself looks ready to collapse, half buried under notes and textbooks, slowly building himself a fort of stacked nonfiction along the edges of the table. He starts to look like the fucking raccoon, with the bags under his eyes. It’s not just a physical exhaustion either; the Song is barely audible, sluggish, and slow like molasses. It’s the quietest Varian’s been in a long time— Hugo isn’t sure which he prefers, the quiet or the over enthusiastic bombardment.

Hugo groans, trying to shake out the ache developing in his shoulders and spine; he’s been sitting for too damn long, it’s time for a stretch. He does just that, pushing his chair back and standing tall. Varian barely reacts, nose buried deep in a textbook. Hugo shrugs and fucks right off without anyone to stop him. Maybe he can pinch something from the kitchen or find somewhere to take a nap away from prying eyes. Anything that’s not sitting in that fucking library anymore.

Either way, his plans end up dashed about three feet out the door.

“Hugo!”

Fuck.

“Princess.” He tries to keep his tone even, lest she accuse him of skulking around.

She rushes forward in an explosion of purple fabric and bright smiles. It’s like standing next to the sun, or maybe an explosion. Like you’ll be consumed by the light the second you let your guard down. Hugo’s fingers twitch, especially when her grin only gets bigger.

“How are things going with the research?” she asks him, “has Varian tuckered himself out yet?”

Ah. Hah.

“Not yet,” he admits. “It’s close, though. Give him another couple hours and he’ll pass out on the table.”

She sighs, shaking her head. Her short, brown hair flutters around her ears when she does so. “Classic.”

There’s a beat of silence. Hugo begins to try and shuffle backward, out of her range, but she fucking follows him. For every step back he takes, she takes one forward. He can’t help but feel trapped, despite the openness of the hallway.

“Are you liking working together?” Her questions pin him like a bug on a board.

“Yeah,” he smiles sharply, “sure. He’s a peach.” Leave me alone, leave me alone, leave me alone—

“Oh, he’s not that bad!” God damn it.

“Sure, if you like the whole… uh… aid your fellow man, uh, thing.”

Her face does a weird, intrigued turn at that, like he just presented her with a puzzle she couldn’t wait to solve. He hates it immediately.

“That’s something I haven’t heard anyone say about him before.”

Hugo shrugs. Looks off to the side. For some reason, he feels the need to run and hide away, slink into the shadows and never come out. He’s not sure what about the princess sets it off— maybe her overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe how she keeps invading his space even when he tries to avoid it— but he wants it to stop right fucking now.

“I’d call it realistic. Your alchemist is in there running himself into the dirt, and for what?”

She purses her lips in thought. “Would you follow me?” she asks him. Her smile is calculating.

“Sure,” he says, for lack of an excuse not to. She guides him down the hall, toward a window. Hugo follows, suspicious as hell but just able to keep himself from bolting as Rapunzel peeks out the window.

Outside, far down in the courtyard, people cluster together. They’re moving things into carts; crates, barrels, countless supplies loaded into dozens of wagons. Rapunzel watches them all, strangely apathetic as they pack up the materials.

“What do you see, down there?” she asks him.

“Is this a trick question?”

Her smile widens. “Not at all.” When Hugo tries to piece together her expression, she arches a brow. “Humor me.”

He sighs, peeks out again. “I see a bunch of people breaking their backs,” he mutters, “and generally putting in way too much effort.”

She snorts. It feels like a judgment even if he knows it isn’t. Somewhere in the back of his skull, the Song begins to perk up again. Varian must be waking up. Fuck. Rapunzel looks down at her people with a kind smile, benevolent and overly sweet.

“Do you know what I see?” she asks.

“No, but I feel like you’re about to tell me.”

Another giggle. “I see a group of people working together to protect something that they love,” she tells him. How saccharine, even if he won’t call her out about it. “I see people who might surprise you if you give them a chance. See how they all work together? Everyone does their part, and trusts the others to do the same. And it all just… works.”

Hugo has to choke down a laugh. “And what about us, then?” he asks. If she’s going to try and one-up him, he’ll play the game. “Your alchemist’s basically run himself into the ground on this plant thing, how long will that go until he finally keels over?”

Rapunzel sighs. It’s a mixture of fondness and exasperation, a little tilt in her tone that shows how close to the edge she is. “Varian’s… a special case,” she says. “If I tell him to sleep, he’ll stay awake out of spite. Usually, we want until he burns himself out and then move him to his bedroom.”

She laughs then. Hugo can’t really find the joke, but as the Song begins to trill louder he finds it in himself to join her. Good to know his supposed Soulmate is just as much of a mess as Hugo is. Poetic, in a way.

“He pushes too hard,” the princess sighs. “I think he feels he owes everyone after…. Well, after everything.” She turns then, green eyes meeting green eyes. “I’m hoping that with a little help, he’ll see that he’s doing more than enough. To let others shoulder the burdens sometimes.”

He wants to argue. Wants to point out that Varian’s inability to be normal isn’t Hugo’s fucking problem, and yet the way she pins him under her gaze makes his mouth run dry. His chest feels almost tight. For a brutal second, he’s reminded of Donella— though where his mentor is searing cold, Rapunzel is a heat that threatens to burn. Both of them command respect, through sheer presence alone; it steals his breath clean away.

“Varian wants to help as much as he can,” Rapunzel is still talking, “and he’s done so much… but he never thinks it’s enough. I don’t think anything ever will be.” She pauses then, shaking herself. “But you don’t need to worry about that. I’m happy that you’re here, Hugo.”

That is something he can’t ignore. She must see how his face scrunches up in confusion because she laughs again.

“I am, I promise. I think we can all learn a lot from each other.”

Hugo can’t help but scoff; sure, like how to be an idiotic softie. He’s better than that, Donella had made sure of it. There’s nothing here for him to learn.

“We’ll see,” he tries to keep it neutral. “I’m only around for the summer, after all.” Less, if he has his way.

Rapunzel smiles again, nodding. “It’ll be a good summer, then.” And like a switch is flipped, her smile goes back to being bubbly. “By the way, if you were going to the kitchens, I know the chefs were making chocolate tarts today; they’re Varian’s favorite, so if you want to get some brownie points, that’s how to do it.”

She winks, grinning widely and finallyleaving. Just as quickly as she’d arrived, Rapunzel disappears from view, vanishing around a corner. Hugo turns to the window again, watching as a pair of locals load up a wagon together. He scoffs, shaking his head. Useless sycophants. Teamwork’s for suckers.

He spins on his heel, back on his original track. If he hustles, he can still make it to the kitchens and back before Varian wakes up to freak out about slacking on the job.

And if he does bring back an extra chocolate tart, well, that’s between Hugo and the dusty, old books. When Varian blearily focuses on a tart that mysteriously arrives in front of his face, the flickering joy that simmers in the downbeat of the Song is something Hugo could almost call precious.

But that’s something for another day.

————— ♪ —————

The frustration creeps into Varian’s bones like a cancer. He tries not to let it get to him too much, to choke the developing anger down and keep it at bay, but he’s starting to fail. He can feel his blood pressure rising with every tick, tick, tick of the clock, counting down his precious time before… well, before he’ll have bigger problems to deal with.

“There’s got to be something,” he says, rubbing at his eye in an attempt to stay awake. “There has to be, plants are just—” he cuts off with a large yawn, “—just chemical reactions in living form…” He risks a look over to where Hugo sits, half asleep with his cheek propped up on his hand. His glasses are askew, nearly sideways and hanging off his one ear.

Varian scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Fucking amazing,” he chides, reaching over and shoving at Hugo’s elbow and toppling Hugo’s carefully balanced act. The blond barely has time to react before his face smacks into the wood of the table, a small thunk rattling through the library.

“Ow, fuck!” he yelps, glaring as Varian doesn’t even bother with looking at him, instead picking up another book from the pile.

“No sleeping on the job,” he mutters, turning back to his notes. They’re basically barren, save for a few deranged scribbles made during a particular bout of exhaustion induced insanity, such as different cows?? And maybe the phase of the moon—

It’s all garbage. Meaning they’re nowhere near a solution. He’s only got another few weeks to figure this out, Sun help him, before shit hits the fan.

Tick tock.

Varian scowls, scribbling out one of the notes. Hugo’s still whining next to him, poking at his nose. “I think you broke it,” Hugo bemoans, “goggles, what the fuck?”

“We’re on a time limit. Stop messing around.”

“Oh, for what,” Hugo snarks. Varian sighs, reaching for another book from his stack. Cross references are always important. Hugo keeps prattling on; his glasses catch the glint of the low firelight. “What does it even matter? So what if the plants grow at the normal rate, huh? It was never going to net any prestige, either way; no one cares about plants, you gotta do something with more flash to get noticed.”

Varian huffs, closing his book a little harsher than he needs to. “It’s not about prestige,” he snaps, keeping his voice down in the silence of the library. Even this late, they have to keep their voices down lest Sir Bagley kick them both out. Hugo isn’t even focused on him, the blond inspecting his nails, so Varian keeps pressing.

“It was never about prestige,” Varian can’t keep his disdain from lacing his tone. “It’s about making things better for people, no matter what we get out of it.”

Hugo scoffs, his face twisting up in amusement. Varian’s never wanted to punch someone as much as he does right now. That, and he can’t keep wasting precious time debating this. They have an assignment, and not enough hours in the day.

Tick tock.

“Sure, goggles,” he says, “it’s easy for you to say that while you’ve got your cushy little job— but I bet when shit really hits the fan, you’ll end up watching out for yourself first. People always do.”

Varian winces. Tries to shut out the memories of being fourteen, his only parent trapped in amber, and abandoned by those he’d trusted. It’s in the past, it’s over now.

It’s fine.

Varian just sniffs loudly, shaking his head. They’d all made mistakes. Rapunzel had even welcomed him back after it all. It’s long in the past, even if it still stings. He can’t help but sigh, thinking how far he’d come. What he stands to lose, at the end of this week. Eugene, Cass, dad… and Rapunzel.

“Not everyone,” he says, looking back down to his papers. “And besides—” He leans closer to Hugo, fixing the blond with a look. “—You’re like me. We’re smarter than most. We have the potential to either do a lot of good… or a lot of damage. I’d prefer to use my time building things, instead of tearing them down.”

Hugo’s eyes are wide. For just the smallest second, he looks rattled, as Varian leans back in his chair. The expressions gone in only a second, but it’s long enough that a trill of smug success runs through Varian’s chest.

Got you, he thinks. But he’s smart enough to know when to stop pushing. For now, at least. The way Hugo’s fidgeting in his chair is enough of an indication that the other is about to bolt; Hugo looks like a rat in a trap, pinned and squirming under the weight of the conversation being twisted around on him. The sudden realization that Varian’s not someone he can talk circles around must shock him. Good.

Varian can already see it in the way that Hugo talks— in the way that he acts, with too calculating glances and twitching fingers— that the blond in front of him has much more going on under the surface. Something in the way Hugo pries for information, in an admittedly subtle way, like he’s a seasoned professional at maneuvering conversation; he speaks with the air of someone who knows how to pull secrets from even the tightest of lips. Of someone who sees conversations as a game, and who’s used to winning.

One one hand Varian should distrust him. He’s had more than enough experience with slimy fuckers who think that every conversation is a way of needling information out of people, with smooth talkers and manipulative assholes who would take advantage of a fifteen-year-old mourning in jail—

Hm. He might be projecting.

Whatever secrets Hugo has… Varian will let him keep them. For now. Not forever, but Varian can be patient. Whatever it is that’s going on under the surface can be brought to light eventually. Either way…

“Think of it this way,” he says to Hugo, who snaps to attention. Good, he’s learning. “More food benefits everyone, especially with winter coming up. Surely even you can’t argue with that.”

Hugo rolls his eyes again. If he keeps doing that, they’ll surely pop out. Personally, Varian would love to see it happen— at least then something exciting would shake up the monotony.

“Whatever,” Hugo says grumpily. Varian can’t help but smile smugly, knowing he’s won this particular battle. He turns down to his notes again, reading them over for what feels like the fiftieth time. It’s all still gibberish, but at least now he’s awake enough that the words have stopped blending together into an inky soup. With a small sigh, Varian flips to the next page in his book, and begins to read. Hugo, just out of his sight, does the same. Varian hunkers down, focusing on his work once more.

The clock behind him continues marching on.

Tick tock.

————— ♪ —————

The next few days are simple enough.

Varian prowls the library, barely sleeping and only eating when Rapunzel or Eugene bring food. Something in their talks must have gotten through Hugo’s thick skull, as the blond actually begins to help instead of sitting around like a useless lump for the entire time. Small victories, Varian would suppose. Currently, however, the blond’s fast asleep, head buried in his crossed arms, leaving Varian to continue the heavy lifting. Bastard.

It’s early morning in the library. Varian can’t remember if he slept at all, he might have dozed off a bit around the early hours, but honestly he can’t tell. He feels like shit, either way. That strange, achy feeling in his joints that spring up during an all-nighter is there regardless, making Varian feel creaky when he tries to move— like an unoiled automaton. He couldn’t tell you what day of the week it is, something that should be concerning, but the hours and days have blended together into a hazy soup of frustration peppered with the odd conversation with Hugo.

He’s still not close to an answer. There’s something missing— there has to be— but Varian can’t help but feel the looming sword of Damocles swing closer. The clock to his back mocks him, cheerily tick tocking his precious seconds away without a care. Varian has half a mind to smash it. He would, but needing to fix it would just be another problem to add to the list.

Just as the sun breaches the tree line beyond the high windows of the library, a sudden sense of dread burrows itself deep in Varian’s chest. If he had a Song, he’s sure it would be screaming. Today’s going to be filled with problems, he can already tell— a creeping dread that he just can’t shake.

The problems begin with Nigel, because of course they do.

Varian and Hugo had built themselves quite the fortress of books on their table, impressive stacks reaching for the ceiling like twisting spires. The alchemist would have half a mind to move them, if not for the fact that he barely has time to think let alone sort through his reference material. Besides, he might need them later. His preparedness shoots him in the foot; it’s because of the towers that he doesn’t get a chance to hide from Nigel before the man’s upon them.

Varian nearly has a heart attack at the sudden appearance of the royal adviser, sucking in a quick breath through his nose at the sight of Nigel. The man’s like a fucking jack-in-the-box, springing up out of nowhere, right down to being a fucking clown most of the time.

Hugo’s still asleep, the fucker, meaning Varian’s on his own, here. Fantastic. Usually, Varian’s fast enough to avoid Nigel, but not fast enough today. The sleep deprivation must be getting to him. The man stops just short of their table, blocking the light from the windows and casting a long shadow along their notes. Nigel’s nose curls like he’s just smelled curdled milk. When Varian meets his gaze, the look only gets worse, which is just lovely, isn’t it? Prick.

“Can I help you?” Varian tries to keep his voice respectful. Key word being tries. “My assistant and I are busy, at the moment, is this important?”

As if to punctuate him, Hugo snorts loudly in his sleep, shifting before settling back down. Thanks, asshole.

Nigel looks even less impressed than he started, which is honestly a feat in itself. Varian keeps his expression flat, biting at the inside of his cheek; if he breaks now, Nigel will gladly go back to Freddy and talk shit like he always does.

“The king requests a status report on your findings,” Nigel says, his voice as grating as it’s always been. “It’s been a week, the delegate from Socria will be here by day’s end.”

Fuck, has it really?

“A… week.”

Nigel’s face screws up into something unreadable. “It has been,” he says. “Have you two been wasting time in here for the whole week?”

Varian slumps, rubbing at his eyes. We are working, he wants to snap, more than you have been. “Tell the king we haven’t found a solution yet,” he mutters. Fuck, the Socrian’s are already here, he’s out of time—

“You had until the delegation got here,” Nigel pushes, “You know how much we need to fill the gap in the stores before—”

“I am aware, thank you.”

The entire library seems to still when Varian snaps. He doesn’t yell, he keeps that smallest amount of control, but Sun it’s close. Nigel’s mouth clicks shut; if there’s one person Varian rarely actively antagonizes, it’s the royal bloody adviser. The alchemist regrets it the second the words escape him, his spine tensing at the way Nigel’s face twists up in offense. Time for damage control. Lots of damage control.

“Tell Fred that we’re still working on it,” he says, ignoring Nigel’s blustering demands for him to address the king by his title. “We have until the delegate arrives, right? Still a few more hours. If I can’t find something by then I’ll… Hugo will take up the task while I’m busy.”

“Fine. But would you please clean yourself up before our guest arrives? You need to be presentable before dinner.”

Varian has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop a grimace, but he nods. “Of course,” he agrees, pushing every unspoken fuck you into the words as he can.

That must be enough; Nigel shakes his head with a grumble, something about timetables and schedules, before taking his leave. Varian watches him go with acute eyes; nothing’s safe until the man’s out of the room entirely. He’s kind of like a very pissed off weasel that way— you gotta break eye contact.

Fuck he needs to sleep.

Varian groans, letting his head drop with a thunkonto the table. Maybe if he gives himself brain damage he can ignore what’s happening today. No such luck; instead, all he gets is a throbbing pain in his forehead.

Across the table, the vibration must be enough to wake up his assistant.

Hugo snorts awake. It’s an ugly noise, almost comical in how unrestrained it is. Varian doesn’t even bother to remove his head from the surface of the table, instead opting to sit and sulk like a big boy.

“Whaddafuck?” Hugo slurs, looking around. “Donnie?”

Varian has no idea who Donnie is, nor does he care. He just lets himself focus on the swirl of the woodgrain like it’s personally annoyed him. Hugo’s brain must finish booting up; Varian can hear his chair creak as he sits up.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” Hugo asks, causing Varian to groan.

“Nigel,” is all he says. Varian doesn’t even have to look up to know Hugo’s scowling at the name; even though he’s only been in the castle for a week or so, it’s obvious to everyone that Hugo doesn’t like Nigel very much. Granted, no one really likes Nigel very much, save for maybe King Frederick himself, which was enough for the poncy fuck to keep his job. Hooray.

“Ew,” Hugo replies, his nose wrinkling. Varian lifts his head and snorts, unable to argue. Ew indeed. Hugo squints at the door as if Nigel would be coming back, though thankfully the doors stay shut.

“Can’t stand that guy,” the blond mutters, rubbing at his cheek. He’s got a deep groove in the skin, surely from his sleeve; Hugo looks like he’s still bleary, which is a hilarious change from the usual sharp eyed, crafty man Varian’s grown accustomed to.

“Me neither.” Varian’s own voice takes him by surprise before he’s shaking his head. Ah, hell. “I didn’t say that, I didn’tsay that.”

Hugo arches a brow, leaning closer with a sly smirk. “Didn’t say what?” he asks, like he didn’t bloody well know what.

“That,” Varian repeats, unable to keep the smile out of his voice when Hugo leans forward just that little bit more, so he’s awkwardly balanced over the table specifically to get into Varian’s face.

“Why, goggles,” he croons, “are you telling me that you’re not a fan of dear old Nigel? A man who’s done nothing but dutifully serve the family you’re employed under. For shame!”

“You started it,” Varian shoots back, biting at his lip to keep from snickering, “no, shut up, yes you did!” Seven hells, he’s overtired, and giggly, like he’s a little kid again. Varian would be so embarrassed if he had the energy to care.

Hugo chuckles into his sleeve, wiping casually at his face to chase away the sleep. When he’s done, he takes a peek at Varian’s notes, tilting his head like an owl to see them correctly.

“Where are we at?” he asks. “Any luck so far?”

“None yet. I was up most of the night looking for Demanitus’ notes on water alkalinity, but it was a dead end.” Varian cuts himself with a yawn, just barely able to get the words out before his jaw cracks open and he’s forced to cover his mouth. He blinks blearily, looking out to the rising sun. Seven hells, he’s stayed up at least thirty hours now.

“Wait, you stayed up this entire time?” Hugo doesn’t sound concerned, more… judgmental. It makes Varian’s hackles raise.

“You’re one to talk; don’t think I haven’t noticed your late-night walks.” Hugo’s shoulders tense at that. Interesting. “Where do you even go, anyways? Aren’t most of the doors locked?”

Hugo looks away, scratching at his face. “Just around,” he says, like that means anything. “What, is it illegal to stretch your legs? We’ve only been trapped in here for a week.”

Varian rolls his eyes, looking back down to his notes. The words all seem to blur together into an inky mess. He should have slept last night, if the dignitaries are arriving today he needs to be firing on all cylinders to keep from making a stupid mistake—

“We should take a break,” Hugo says. Varian reluctantly lifts his gaze from the papers to his unwanted assistant. Hugo muffles a yawn, but for once he seems genuine. Something in Varian wants to work with that, to take this strange openness that Hugo’s showing in his half-awake mindset, but…

“I can’t,” Varian sighs, “I’ve only got until later today to try and figure something out.”

“What’s happening? Making plans without me?”

Varian laughs. It comes out more bitter than it should have. “Trust me, it’s not exactly going to be fun. But it’s important. So, I have to get this done before then.”

Hugo crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “All the more reason to take a break. Recharge before you have to go deal with… whatever.”

Varian looks back down to his notes, shuffling them. They’re all awful, rambling, and borderline stupid… the ache in his joints grows more pronounced as he moves, bone deep and stiff. He feels like an unoiled hinge, creaky and useless. A break… might be nice.

“Fine,” he sighs. “But only a short one, then we have to get back to work.”

Hugo smiles, something with less teeth than usual.

“Deal.”

#varigo #varian #tangled the series #varian and the seven kingdoms #vat7k #fic #silent opera #tts

[dameronology]

the one that got away {poe x reader}

summary: based on the song the one that got away by katy perry 

this song has been my jam since i was about 11 and i’m now closer to being 20 than i am to being 11 and that’s making me panic! everywhere and not just exclusively at the disco but it made me produce this 

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of smut 

enjoy, 

- jazz

Poe Dameron had always believed in true love.

He saw it not only within his parents’ relationship but everywhere he looked: in the couple who lived next door to his childhood home, in the bar where he worked during his time at the academy, in couples walking down the street. It was everywhere and nowhere; the kind of thing that you could feel in your soul but never physically grasp - or, at least that had been his initial understanding of it. 

Then Poe met you.

That was how he realised that love was very much something he could physically feel. Not only could he feel it, he could see it and he could hear it and he could finally understand it. You were the answer to every question he’d ever had. 

He could feel it whenever you held his hand and he could hear it whenever you laughed at one of his terrible jokes. Whenever he simply looked at you - whether it was under the blinding morning light or simply the outline of your and against his chest in the dark - it was there. What had started as a stupid fling in the academy had turned into something more. You were his whole world, his everything.

Poe was your soulmate; your best friend and your partner-in-crime (or as you had affectionally dubbed him, your poetner-in-crime). You were always on the same wavelength, emitting the same chaotic energy and terrible jokes. You had each other’s backs to no end, the kind of bond that spanned the galaxy and back ten times over. The love between was the kind that very few people were lucky enough to experience. 

‘Poe, quick!’ 

You were tearing down the corridor, fingers intertwined. Almost tripping over each other, you skidded around a corner and into a dark classroom, slamming the door behind you. You fell back against the door, Poe’s arms on either side of you as he leant against you, body shaking with laughter.

‘His face!’ The pilot could barely control his laughter. ‘Maker, I’ve never seen the guy so angry.’

‘That’ll teach him to fuck with us again.’ You smiled.

‘Us.’ Poe repeated your words back to you.

‘Yeah?’ You grin grew wider. You pushed a few strewn, dark curls back off his face. ‘Me too.’

‘I love you.’ His hand ghosted your cheekbone, resting on your face for a moment. 

‘I love you too.’ You leant up to kiss him, revelling in the feeling of his lips against yours. It was the feeling of home; warm and soft and welcoming all at once. 

‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’ 

Nothing could come between you - until it did.

The war. 

The beginning of another civil war were in the making. People who had lived through the first one had the same sense of unease they did the first time around; the appearance of more TIE fighters in the sky, more recruits coming to the academy, training increasing tenfold. There was discontent across the galaxy and nobody knew what was coming. 

Poe left first. He was a few years ahead of you in terms of training, having been piloting since he was a kid. That, paired with his admirable recklessness and natural leadership, made him perfect for the Resistance. You were his whole damn world but he had to fight for the galaxy; a galaxy in which you could both have a future. 

‘I guess this is it.’ 

You were stood in front of Poe’s X-Wing, hands shakily intertwined as you tried your hardest not to digest what was happening. If you did, he would probably try to say. Or worse, you would try to go with him before you were ready. 

‘It’s only a few months.’ Poe’s voice was wobbly, and he gripped your hands tighter. ‘A year at most, and then you’ll come out and join me. Right?’

‘Right.’ You nodded, a tear splashing down your cheek. ‘And we’ll talk all the time. Beebs always knows where to find me.’

‘I love you.’ He pressed his forehead to yours, lips momentarily brushing together as he trembled. ‘I love you so much.’

‘I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘If this is it, I’m always going-’

‘- we literally just said.’ Poe almost reeled back. ‘We’re going to see each other again.’

‘But if we don’t-’

‘- say it.’ Poe’s voice was firm, his grip on your hands inhumanly tight. ‘Say that we’ll see each other again. Promise me.’

You sighed, trying to calm yourself for a moment. You wanted to be hopeful, to think of a future where two could find your way back to each other - but you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the case. The galaxy was getting darker and darker by the day and the light at the end of the tunnel seemed impossibly far away. 

‘I promise.’ The words were barely a whisper.

‘Take this.’ Poe reached up to the chain around his neck, pulling the ring off. 

‘Poe, I can’t ask that of you-’

‘- you’re not asking. I’m telling.’ He shook his head. Taking your hand in his, he slipped his mother’s ring across your middle finger. ‘Forever, right?’

‘Forever.’

You would both come to learn that forever was a long time - almost as long as the months you spent apart. 

At first, you would talk every day. You would talk to him via the holo-link in your droids, sharing stories about your day and talking about what you were going to do when you saw each other again. It felt like you were hopelessly clinging onto a distant dream, desperately wishing that the promises you were making could ever be fulfilled. You spoke about where you were going to live (Coruscant, probably) and what you were going to name your kids (Leo for a boy, Shara for a girl). 

But then your calls became less and less regular. Poe was being taken all over the galaxy on his missions and you were busy trying to finish your training. What had been a daily thing turned into one of a weekly nature, and before you knew it, it was a two-or-three-times a month affair.

You were tired whenever you spoke, and Poe was grumpy. You’d been worn down with your training and his body had been torn through eleven different timezones in a week. The hope that you’d both once had was almost completely faded, replaced with concern for the war. All your energy was going into fighting - sometimes for the Resistance, sometimes with each other.

Then the calls stopped. 

You couldn’t exactly recall when you realised it was over but some part of you just knew; there was no conversation, no closure. It was over, just like that. You didn’t even have time to think about it or to cry about it. The fact that you’d lost Poe Dameron was just a reality of life - a painful one, but a reality nonetheless. 

You took the ring off, putting it in a safe space to give back to him should you ever cross paths again. You wouldn’t - not for a few years. 

Almost a year to the day that Poe left, Leia Organa recruited you into the Resistance. It was a different base to your former love, systems away in the Outer Rim. Your work was focused mostly on communications and collecting data for building new bases. It felt good to finally be doing your part for the cause but you couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. 

(It was Poe. Poe was the thing that was missing). 

Time flew by. You were jumping between planets, having a few near misses and experiencing your first real sense of loss; not only for your flyboy, but for your team-mates who didn’t make it back. You were haunted with thoughts of the same thing happening to Poe, of the idea that he could have already left for his last mission without knowing it.

So, you started wearing the ring again. Even when you met somebody new - Perry, a six-foot-tall blonde gunner with a kind smile and a moderate sense of humour - you kept it on. You wore it when you kissed Perry for the first time and you wore it when he declared his love for you. 

He wasn’t Poe. He didn’t hold your hand the way Poe did or kiss you in the way that Poe did. He didn’t make you laugh like him or smile like him or feel like him. He wasn’t the same. Nobody could ever compare but you weren’t going to find the love of your life twice. It was like you’d won the lottery on your first ticket. Nobody won the jackpot twice. 

‘This is the bar that Leia said most of the other guys went to.’

You and Perry were stood outside a cantina; it was dark on Ajan Kloss, the sky lit in a low navy colour by the yellow of the moon. The signs of the establishment flashed before you, a welcome invitation away from the cold night. The air inside was stuffy in comparison, smelling of stale beer and filled with the sound of other Resistance pilots chortling and chatting. 

You were on a two-day lay over at another base. The whole squad needed a drink, given how rough the mission had been - whilst they sat down, you ditched your jacket and headed to the bar up front. 

Falling against the wooden counter, you let out a small oof! as somebody dropped against the bar next to you, He was too busy talking to someone, but you could have recognised him from anywhere. 

Poe Dameron had a warm presence; there was an aura about him, something welcoming and sweet. He still wore the same after shave and laughed with his whole body - that’s how you knew it was him. 

‘Poe.’ Your words weren’t really there, but he still managed to hear you.

‘Yeah?’ He spun around, doing a double take when he saw you. ‘Oh, shit.’

He looked tired; his hair was still dark and curly, but littered with more greys than it had been five years ago. His warm brown eyes were decorated with dark circles and he had a five-o-clock shadow on his chin. Still, he looked good. 

‘I - wow.’ You couldn’t find the words. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi.’ A small smile fell onto Poe’s lips. ‘Hi.’

A moment later, he had dropped his drink and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. He hadn’t held you since the day he’d left all those years ago; a day that felt so alien to you both. Your immediate feeling was one of relief - Poe Dameron was alive, drinking in a bar and doing exactly what he said he’d always would (saving the galaxy). 

‘You’re...’ You trailed off, pulling back to stare at him. ‘You’re alive.’

‘Just about.’ Poe smiled at you. ‘And so are you - and you’re a Lieutenant.’

‘You’re a commander.’ Your eyes fell to the markings on his jacket. ‘That’s amazing, Poe.’

You were both thinking the same thing: we should have done it together. 

You should have been there to witness him rising through the ranks and he should have been there to welcome you to the Resistance with open arms. But life could be a bitch and she’d dealt you both the worst cards. The galaxy had done everything within its power to tear you apart.

‘It’s so good to see you.’ Poe bit his lip, brown eyes refusing to move from holding your gaze. ‘I know that we said-’

‘- don’t mention it.’ You shook your head. ‘We were pretty fucking naive, right?’

‘Right.’ He breathily laughed, nodding. ‘I still think about you, though.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ He smiled. ‘I think about the academy, and the day I left and - is that my mum’s ring?’

Poe’s eyes had fallen to your hand, where the metallic band still sat on your middle finger. You’d always promised yourself to give it back if you ever had the chance. After all, it was supposed to be a symbol of commitment, of your love for one another. It was a promise you’d made to each other before either of you knew what shit life was going to throw your way. 

‘Oh, yeah.’ You went to pull it off. 

‘No.’ Poe moved his hand to cover yours. ‘Keep it.’

‘Poe, it’s yours.’ You reminded him.

‘And I gave it to you.’ He replied. ‘I know...I know things didn’t go the way we wanted but I still mean everything I said.’

You smiled, nodding. ‘Thank you. Me too.’

‘Are you around later?’ Poe asked. ‘We should catch up. There’s a lot to talk about, right?’

‘Of course.’ You took a sip of your drink. ‘I’m staying in-’

‘- babe!’ Perry’s voice suddenly cut between the two of you. Your boyfriend appeared beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. ‘What’s taking so long?’

Oh, yeah. Him. 

Maybe you weren’t around tonight. 

Five minutes with Poe Dameron had been enough to make you forget two years with your current boyfriend. He’d made you feel more in that brief conversation that Perry had in your whole relationship.

You didn’t mean to compare them, truly. It was just that there was no coming back from Poe Dameron; he was your soulmate then and you had a feeling he was your soulmate now. In fact, it wasn’t just a feeling; it was a certainty. 

That was what you told yourself when you snuck out of bed that night to see Poe. 

It was what you told yourself when he kissed you for the first time in five years. 

It was what you told yourself when you made love for the first time in five years. 

But repeating it over and over in your head wasn’t enough to make you stay the next morning. Even when you woke up in his arms, pressed against his bare chest with scratches on your back and bruises on your thighs, finally feeling like you were at home for the first time in five years, you couldn’t convince yourself to stay. You couldn’t fall back to him; you couldn’t let yourself get hurt all over again.

Perry didn’t ask where you went that night - and you never told him. 

You didn’t confess when he found you the next day and he confessed his love for you. You didn’t confess when he asked you to marry him six months later. 

There was now another ring sat next to Poe’s; shiny and expensive and far too big for your hands. It was where his ring should have been; instead, Shara Bey’s ring stayed on your middle finger, a constant reminder of what could have been - of what should have been. 

You were glad for that night with Poe. It felt like a goodbye for you both; like you’d finally got closure. At the same time, you didn’t want your time with Poe to reach a conclusion - you still wanted to hold out hope that the promises you’d made as a twenty-something would come true. You were engaged to marry another man but for some reason, you couldn’t see a future with anyone else.

Then there came a point where you couldn’t see a future at all. 

The First Order was closing in; the war was getting rougher and rougher. There were losses left right and centre. Missions were becoming longer and darker. The bags under your eyes were getting darker and each day, you strayed further and further from the light. It was hard to hold on, hard to see past the dark forces at play. 

That’s when you’d think back to another time; six or seven years prior, when it was just you and Poe against the world. You’d let your mind wander back to the times that you would stay up late, laughing and crying together. You remembered all the pacts and promises you’d made. How did you get here? 

Before you knew it, you were back on Ajon Kloss. Everyone had gathered to begin making preparations for the final battle. Nobody was calling it that - final was too scary of a word, after all - but everybody knew it. You were powering up your jet for what felt like the last time. 

‘Trident Squad, you’ll be behind Dagger. You know your orders.’

You were hardly listening to your commander, hands shaking as you played with the straps of your helmet. You were leaning against your X-Wing, trying to calm your breaths with clammy hands and a pounding chest. 

‘Hey.’ 

You looked up, eyes meeting Poe’s. Despite everything, you smiled. ‘Hey.’

‘You got engaged?’ His words were breathless. There was no greeting, no question of how you were. There was just the hurt in his words; the disbelief and the grief. 

‘I got engaged.’

‘Fuck.’ 

‘Fuck?’

‘Fuck.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’ You nodded. ‘Fuck.’

Dropping your helmet to the ground, you met Poe half-way across the gap between you. He took you in his arms, lifting you off the ground for a moment as your bodies collided. He held you in his arms, a sad imitation of the last time you’d been stood together in front of an X-Wing. 

‘Do you...’ your words were muffled by his shoulder. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your ring back?’

‘That’s what I was trying to say last time I saw you.’ Poe put you back down; his hands stayed on your waist. ‘My mum told me to give it to whoever I wanted to spend my life with.’

‘Poe-’

‘- I know.’ He cut you off. ‘You promised to marry Pete-’

‘- Perry-’

‘- whatever.’ You couldn’t help but laugh at his flippancy. ‘Just because I can’t spend my life with you doesn’t mean I can’t want to.’

‘That makes no sense.’

‘None of this makes sense.’ Poe corrected you. ‘Normally I’m more than happy to respect the boundaries of another guys relationship but...but it’s you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I gotta ask.’ He have your hips a light squeeze. ‘If we make it out alive, there’s no chance at all that you and I can finally be together?’

‘Poe, I-’

‘- Captain!’ The sound of your commander’s voice came from around the corner. ‘We’re heading out now! Power up!’

‘I have to go.’ You took a step backwards, but he still clung onto your hands. 

‘I love you.’ Poe gave you a watery smile.

‘I know.’

‘Forever?’

‘Forever.’ 

tags: @blacksquadron-rougetwo​ @drinksomecoco​ @obi-wankenobae​

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron angst #poe x reader #poe imagine #poe x you #poe x y/n #poe angst #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars angst #star wars fanfic #star wars imagines

[miastideclock]

Stray Kids Reaction To Their Soft S/O Accidentally Cursing

Hi! May I please get a reaction of Stray kids reacting to their S/O being very shy and soft, but accidentally slips a swear word. Thx love your work! 💞

Word Count: 2157

The length of the bits are quite varying in size, so my apologies for that

Bang Chan

You were sat at a table outside your favorite café during lunch with your lovely boyfriend. The sun was shining and the birds were chirping, only making the early summer day all the better.

"Here is your bagel, as well as your iced latte. And a bagel and americano for you, sir." The waitress spoke as she gently set down your orders. It had been a while since it was just the two of you, so you appreciated him taking the day off for you. With the chaos of their latest comeback, and the fact that he lived with seven other boys- there weren't a lot of time for just the two of you.

"I'm so glad I took the day off to be with you." Chan grinned as he took a bite of his bagel. Being too captivated by his eyes and how much you absolutely adored him, you didn't notice that the waitress had placed your cup down much closer to you than you had imagined. And with that, you knocked your cup over, spilling it all over the table and yourself, drenching your outfit.

"Shit." You let slip as you reached for the napkins. You soon realized what you had said and immediately let your head snap towards your boyfriend. You had never been one to curse, but here you were.

"Please pretend you didn't hear that." You spoke sheepishly as Chan started laughing like a crazy man.

"You should have seen the look on your face when you realized- priceless!" He soon spoke, all while he grabbed more napkins form the dispenser, helping you clean up.

"We're never talking about this again." You spoke in a joking manner, Chan just continuing to chuckle.

Lee Know (Lee Minho)

"Good morning, beautiful." Your boyfriend spoke from next to you. Your entire body screamed for you to just go back to sleep, but you knew it would make Minho sad as you had a whole day planned out.

The night before you and your boyfriend had stayed up late, planning every single detail of your day of fun. You would go to the amusement park downtown, and you would get ice cream, and funnel cake and other park-foods. Then you would go to the movies, and then finish at a restaurant you had been dying to try out.

You pried your eyes open, only for the light to blind you, sending your arms flying to cover them. "Fuck." You muttered, barely audible to yourself. Your boyfriend however, caught it.

"Y/N? What did you say?" Minho's tone was obviously not upset, but he didn't seem to happy either. To him you had always been such a sweet and soft person, one he had never heard curse in the eleven months you had been dating.

You soon realized what you said and sat up in bed faster than lightning, obviously having opened your eyes fully by now. You looked at him, your eyes a bit wider than they usually would be. "That's not very like you." Minho responded in a completely normal tone, getting to his feet from where he was kneeling next to the bed.

"Sorry." You said sheepishly, fiddling with your hands as if you were a child being told off.

"Babe, don't worry. You can say and do whatever you want, I just wasn't expecting it." He chuckled and followed it up with something along the lines of you having to get out of bed to get ready.

"I'll be out in a minute!" You called after him before letting your head fall into your hands in embarrassment.

Changbin (Seo Changbin)

11:47pm

The soft wind from the open window brushed through your hair, but you didn't notice. You were too focused on the task you had in front of you. Your face was illuminated only by the laptop as the clock was soon to strike midnight.

You had worked so hard on a paper, but in the middle of the night, you realized you had forgotten to actually turn it in. Luckily, the deadline was at 12 a.m, but unluckily, your computer was not having it. No matter how much to pressed the upload button, it wouldn't budge.

11:51pm

You felt yourself becoming stressed as you knew that if you didn't turn it in on time, you would fail. You felt movement next to you as your boyfriend took a deep breath. "You okay, sweetie?" Changbin asked with a groggy voice as your fiddling and hard tapping had woken him up.

"Yeah, sorry it just that this bitch of a computer refuses to work." You muttered angrily, your eyes never leaving the screen as you refreshed and tried again. You were so upset with your paper that you didn't even notice that you spoke a word you would usually never use. Changbin wanted to comment on it, but decided to not since you were already so frustrated with the site that wouldn't load.

"Just send it to your professor via email, and tell him the site won't work. He'll see that the timestamp is within the deadline, and he'll have to accept it." Changbin spoke as he sat up to look at your screen. You decided he was right and did as you were told.

When you finally were done, you closed your laptop and placed it on the floor, laying down in the bed next to your boyfriend.

"You know," Changbin started with a whisper. "I've never heard you curse before."

You gave him a weird look and told him he never would either, since that's something you don't do. "No, you cursed just now." He commented again, but you refused to believe him.

"If I cursed, then what did I say and why don't I remember it?" You tried with a scoff. He soon repeated the sentence including the curse you had spoke earlier. You then realized that you had in fact let the word slip. You apologized with a smile, embarrassed as you admitted you we're wrong.

"Don't worry, honey. Let's just go to sleep."

Hyunjin (Hwang Hyunjin)

You ran with everything you had, making your way down the semi-steep hill, trying to escape the hell that followed you. You and your boyfriend had been on a picnic on a hill at your local park, having a good time before all hell broke loose. Two words. Tickle fight.

The grass under your bare feet felt nice, but you didn't have much time to think about it as the one thing on your mind was to escape Hyunjin. You heard the sprinting behind you come closer and closer, making your stomach flip as you knew he was about to catch you. But before he could reach you, an unexpected dip in the ground sent you flying.

You tumbled down the remainder of the hill, luckily there only being soft grass for you to land on. "Holy shit." You groaned as you sat up from the fall, your boyfriend soon by your side to check that everything was alright. As he inspected you of any damage, he let the word "Language." slip. He caught himself and your eyes met, both sets filled with a mix of shock and humor. His comment then made you both laugh.

You had never been one to curse as you were on the shyer side of the spectrum, but your fall had given you more than a valid reason to let the swear slip.

"Wouldn't think I'd hear those words from you. But let's get back to our picnic, shall we?" Hyunjin suggested and reached out his hand for you to grab, and hoisted you to your feet.

Han (Han Jisung)

The sound of rain gently tapping on the wide open window was soothing, and it went well with the smell of nature and the cool air waltzing in the window. 

It was Sunday afternoon, which meant you and Jisung were sitting in the office, doing each your thing. You were sat with a book, whilst your boyfriend sat staring at a sheet of paper displaying lyrics that were crossed out or circled, with arrows going from a to b in a chaotic manner. 

You did this every Sunday, well- not necessarily a book and lyrics, but something. You both did things that you enjoyed or wanted to do, but you did them together. It was your own way of making sure you always had time for each other. 

After a while, the cool air became too chilly for your sockless-feet, so you got up to close it. Without thinking, you got up, your book soon falling from your lap directly onto your pinky toe. 

“Fuuuck.” You dragged out the word you whispered. You soon realized what you said and placed your hand gently over your mouth, as if it would stop your from saying it- like it would change the past. 

You turned to look at your boyfriend, but he hadn’t seemed to notice. You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding as you saw he didn’t hear. You then picked up the book and placed on the coffee table, the proceeded to close the window. 

About a minute after your slip up, Jisung finally turned around. “Did you say something?” He questioned, making you shake your head no.  “I could have sworn I heard someone curse. Oh well, how’s it going with the main character?” He continued and walked over to the couch you sat in. 

You chuckled at yourself before informing him that they were closing in on the ending of the adventure.

Felix (Lee Felix)

You stared at the words on the paper, but they didn't seem to make sense to you. It was a recipe, you could tell that much- but not anything more than that. You turned to look at your boyfriend, but he looked just as clueless as you.

You finally had the place completely to yourself, which meant date night. You and Felix were planning on making this pastry-thing he had found on TikTok, but it turned out to be more complicated than anticipated.

"I can get the eggs, that much I can promise you I am capable of." You joked as you turned to get the eggs from the fridge. Felix chuckled at you as he kept staring at the recipe. You opened the fridge, but before you could even think about your next move, the carton tumbled out and onto the ground, sending six eggs flying, making a mess everywhere.

"Fucking hell." You mumbled as you glared at the mess by your feet. You let a sigh escape your lips, your head dropping in defeat. You had to admit that your evening didn't exactly go as you had planned. You wanted it to be cute, romantic and perfect in every way! Making food with your boyfriend, laughing and having a grand ol' time. Especially since it only happened once in a blue moon that you had the place entirely to yourself.

"Did I just hear you curse? You've been listening to me game too much!" Felix commented with humor in his tone as he approached you with a mop, ready to clean up your mess. You apologized profusely, but he was quick to stop you. "Don't apologize. What do you say we just order some takeout and watch a movie on the couch? Making your own food is overrated anyways."

His idea brought a smile to your lips as you nodded.

Seungmin (Kim Seungmin)

The breeze blew softly through your hair as you stood on the small balcony, looking at the passing cars on the street beneath you. There wasn't a lot of traffic as it was about twenty minutes past midnight, but you found yourself looking for a specific white van.

The boys had just finished tour, so your were waiting for them at their place, excited to see them- but mostly excited to see your boyfriend.

A big, black van soon rolled to a stop outside the main entrance, sending your stomach into flips. You ran back inside and out in the hallway, sprinting down the stairs as fast as you could. As you were making your way down the last few steps, you heard the door to the lobby open, Seungmin entering first. The sight of your boyfriend made you forget what you were doing, causing you to trip and tumble down the last three steps of the stairs.

"Fuck." You spat as you hit the ground, landing on your shoulder. You boyfriend soon rushed to your side, mumbling something about how you can't say that word, but it also sounded like he wanted himself to shut up.

"You okay, baby?" He asked as he helped you sit up, having squatted down himself. Even though the pain was excruciating, it all seemed to disappear when you looked him in the eye. You nodded and then launched yourself forward and slung your arms around him, attacking him in a hug,  sending you both to the floor for a second time.

"I'm amazing now that you're here. I've missed you." You mumbled into the crook of his neck. "I missed you too."

I.N (Yang Jeongin)

The place was quiet, all except the sound of Chan and your boyfriend, Jeongin, watching a movie on the couch next to you. You was originally watching it with them, but you ended up having a full grooming session with your cat. You had found tons of knots in his fur, so you had gotten your brush and scissors and gotten to work.

The sound of the movie pausing caught your attention, making you look up from the fur-coated project you had in your lap. "I'm just gonna make some tea, y'all want anything from the kitchen?" Chan asked as he stood up from his seat. Both you and your boyfriend shook your heads no.

While Chan was out, Jeongin decided to sit closer to you and ask about your progress, but before you could reply, you apparently pulled too hard on a knot, making your cat squirm- scratching you in the progress. "You bitch." You hissed at the pain, scolding your cat.

It was as if your life flashed by your eyes for a second, then you turned to Jeongin who sat there with a unimpressed look on his face. You gave him a sheepish look, almost as if you were begging for forgiveness.

Jeongin continued to look at him before he slowly started sitting up. "No, babe, please don't-" You started but were soon cut off.

"Hyung, Y/N said a bad word!"

He snitched.

I honestly have no clue what this is, but it deadass took me four days to write im-

i hope you enjoyed it???

I WAS ABOUT TO POST THIS THEN I REALIZED I FORGOT THE ENTIRETY OF JISUNG WHAT TEH FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME???

-bentley

#stray kids #stray kids drabbles #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids one shots #stray kids fanfic #stray kids outfits #stray kids requests #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n #minho #jisung #jeongin #chan

[the-real-slim-shady]

am i just anxious or are my anxieties actually true

I’m sorry if I was boring

It’s just that

I didn’t get the chance to drink my coffee this morning

That’s no excuse I’m sorry I just can’t seem to carry

This conversation is going no where I can feel the glass beginning to crack

And when you fall apart is it because I was not there to hold you together

But you won’t fall apart because you will ask me to hold you together but I will fall apart I am falling apart

Because I am not letting you hold me

I am not asking you to hold me

Please understand why I cannot ask you to hold me

Because then I would disintegrate at the thought of you letting go

You know you never know what you have until you lose it

I will not let myself get to close to this flame

Too close to you

I am a vampire, flash paper, gasoline, god fucking hell I would let you burn me to the ground

I’m sorry it’s eleven o clock at night and I’m thinking about that day when

I couldn’t carry our conversation it was a little too heavy and my eyes were getting heavy I get migraines in the back of my eyes and in the back of my neck

I'm sorry, I'm rambling, and maybe that’s just all in my head

but I didn’t have a coffee that morning and

maybe that’s why

#poem #poetry #yall im actually really proud of this #like #im not one to toot my own horn lol #but i think this is pretty good #i mean i hate conceptualizing my own emotions #but fuck it #god my notes app is concerning #anyways #hope you guys enjoyed

[glumpiglet]

Beetlejuice meeting his S/O and shes a ghost?

Hi..Thank you for the request.. I had a lot of fun with this one.. It really got away from me lol I hope you like it <3 to those who requested I havent forgotten about you, it’s just easier for me to write on the weekend when I’m not working. K love you guys

Warning: bit of swearing.. basic beej innuendos... thats it.

If you had known that when you woke up that Wednesday, it would have been your last day alive, you probably would have done so not hungover. Stumbling out of bed, sheets still clutching at your legs, you swore at the morning sun shining once again for the high, wide windows in all the bedrooms. It was on the list to replace the sheer curtains, but fabric that long was hard to find and not cheap to buy.

When Great Aunt Gerdy left you her house, the only wish she had was to ‘preserve, protect, and breath life back into Windflew Manor.’

Sweet, naive Gertrude. Spun of sugar more than flesh, your great aunt had been the youngest of twelve and definitely your favourite family member. Growing up, you fondly remembered spending summers here, riding your bike through the halls on rainy days, playing ‘Pirates and Rogues’ in the backyard with Gerdy and her children.

When you got older you begged to still come to the Manor; Gertrude watched you grow and in her own mind, Auntie Gerdy had assumed you would follow the steps of the women in your family, hunker down with a fine man, pop out some kids every few years.

As you said, Gertrude was tragically naive. Never had the heart to ever tell her the truth. That marriage….Children? Had never even entered the equations of goals. You wanted a spontaneous, fun life full of breakable things. Adventure. 

But also it was known that if you didn’t take this house, it would have gone to an auction. It broke your heart the way her children acted, their mother was one of the greatest women you had ever met, a role model. It was what she wanted. You couldn’t do that to Aunt Gerdy. So with hesitant determination, you had set about restoring Windflew Manor.

Due to funds, you were forced to do most of the work, getting help for a few handier friends. But it had been coming along nicely, room by room the cobwebs and mold were disappearing. It was satisfying work.  

Resting your head against the shower wall, however, you didn’t think you could find the strength to tackle the gardens today. It was all your friend's fault, ‘one more drink (Y/N), we’ve worked so hard!’ 

Exiting the shower, wiping the fog from the mirror, you reflected on how tired the image looked as you moisturized, changing into comfy shorts and a tank top without bothering to properly dry yourself. It was a warm day and you liked the cool moisture mixed with the lotion slicking your skin.

Just as you began brushing your teeth, the doorbell rang multiple times. Who the hell was that this early in the morning? The sound came again, more insistent and you had to roll your eyes.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your horses..” Sprinting down the hallway, trying to steady on the banister, you felt the gravity shift as your feet slid across the hardwood.

You supposed everyone would lament your damned clumsiness, your carelessness. Imprinted on the skin, you held the reminders of how prone to accidents you had been. It had been a joke in the family for years. ‘(Y/N) is gonna kill herself one day!’ 

It was only a matter of time. 

Swing your hand wildly, nothing could be gripped as you felt yourself swinging forward, hurdling towards the twenty-six flight of stairs that as a child, never it was considered it would have spelled your end….  

**

Turns out, it had been nothing more than a neighbor, wanting to let you know the street sweepers would be out tomorrow. 

Life was funny that way. 

Watching in dull horror as the EMT’s took your body away, trying to process the following information.. It came to you so obviously even though it sounded crazy: You weren’t having some out of body experience… You hadn’t taken any hallucinogenic drugs lately.. You were dead. 

Thinking about what the afterlife would have been: Heaven, Hell, Purgatory…. Haunting Auntie’s empty house had not been on the top of the list. 

Time was meaningless now, you could look at the grandfather clock and see two p.m and look five minutes later and see eleven a.m. it was always cold. You cursed not wearing something warmer than your p.j’s that last morning, not that you thought it would have helped. 

Going outside had been a big no-no. Whatever fucked up colossal worm creature had been out there when you tried the one time to leave, was obviously meant to be keeping you here. So here you stayed.

It could have been only a day you spent dead and lonely in the house. Or a week. A month. Years. You were being a little dramatic, you knew it hadn’t been years. Friends and family came by, grieving openly, making your heartbreak; and removing all your items, which was even worse. Obviously to be sold off or stored in your old room. A time capsule.

On one of the many days that found you aimlessly wandering the halls, a book fell before you without pretense. Equal parts startled and puzzled, well as much as a ghost could be, you picked it up.  

‘Handbook for the Recently Deceased..’

Gripping the pages, intent to open, you were halted as your front door swung open. A dozen or so handsome, young men carrying multiple packed things burst into Aunt Gerdy’s foyer, laughing and chatting loudly.  

“Aw, dude this place is awesome!”

“Look at all the space!”

“Get that pong table over there!”

“What the fuck!?”

Stomping forward, you were about to raise your voice louder before you stopped yourself….Right, stupid... They couldn’t see you… The whole ‘being dead thing’.

Watching in impotent rage as they slammed their things on the hardwood floor, scuffing their sneakers on the expensive carpets you had saved every penny for…

This was not good. Not good at all.

**

You had been right.

It wasn’t hard to not like these kids. You weren’t really into the whole ‘boys would be boys’ excuse for male idiocy in their youths. 

You didn’t like the way they treated each other, the archaic ‘hazing’ they would often do leaving you feeling ill. You didn’t like the way they treated the girls they used and laughed as they were forced down the traditional ‘walk of shame’ making you furious.

You especially did not like the way they treated the Manor. It was terrible, gaudy streamers and tacky posters were pinned to the walls. Daily parties...Keggers…. Were held here, the place was a war zone. Litter and garbage cluttered every hall and you were beginning to tear your hair out in helplessness. 

They had turned your Aunt’s treasured home and your hardworking project into a frat house. It was just rude.

What were you gonna do? Time passed and you watched as the house grew further and further into decay when a lightbulb burst unexpectedly. 

Realizing your answer, you hoped the discarded handbook was still where you had dropped it. Returning to the living room, you sighed in relief at seeing the odd-looking text where you left it. Walking up to it, however, you noticed something there that wasn’t there before. 

A card, dusty, and sticking out of a random page. Bending down you began pulling at it, fingering the worn edges. You lifted it up into the light, trying to read it under all the dirt caked on. On the card, it just said one word three times, strangely compelled you said it out loud.

“Betelgeuse… Betelgeuse…. Betelgeuse?”

The burst of smoke made you hack instantly, it was like someone smoked weed in an embalming room, pungent and eye-watering. 

It was a man. Well, no. Not a human man in any case. Duh. You would say this was the weirdest thing to ever happen to you, but nothing was normal after you died apparently.

Observing as he waved his hands, stepping out of the cloud, you couldn’t help the widening of your eyes...He was.. Definitely interesting looking.. 

“Geez, did I come late to the party or what-… Woah.”  

He looked awful and smelt even worse, and why the hell was he here?

The… Character that stepped had gone silent. Awkward and stilted, you struggled to speak. It couldn’t help being noticed his... Hair was changing colour… Most certainly going from an almost neon green to baby pink…. What was he? 

“Don’t be afraid. You’re dead. I am also dead.” There was a moment before an incredulous giggle escaped your lips, you couldn’t help but realize it had been the first time you laughed since.. Well..

“Yeah, I figured that. From... You know… Seeing my dead body get taken away.” The two of you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, the silence deafening. 

Before he pounced. Flouncing over in a comical manner, he began to circle you, the humour disappearing from you at the look in his eye. 

“Huh, that line usually doesn’t work.. You’re surprisingly calm..” Turning your head until you couldn’t anymore, you swiveled striving for eye contact. He completed his journey around and stood in front of you, seeming to be searching for something. Before he held his grimey hand out…. The intense desire to hesitate held you still. 

It didn’t seem to deter him in the slightest.

“Hello! A pleasure to meetcha-” Leaning forward, you realized in just enough time what he was doing before he could press his lips to yours, jumping back. 

“Uh, excuse me!?” 

“Can’t blame a demon for trying, babes. Anyways uh… What can I do for you?” He fidgeted with his jacket, pulling at the cuffs and flapping the lapels, wafting his stench towards you making you gag. Covering your nose you murmured beyond belief.

“What do you mean?”

“Well usually I only get called when someone needs something from me….. Bio-exorcism. Homicide. Sexual pleasure. I do it all.” This guy couldn’t actually be serious… You shook your head, none of this was helping. You had gone to the book for an answer and had only gotten even more questions. 

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about dude, I just found this card in this book. Anyways, what is happening right now? Who are you and why can you see me?”

Snickering, he continued to very eagerly invade your personal space and it was getting harder to find the space in the living room. The predator was cornering.

“You said my name, sexy. You called me.” 

What kind of name was Betelgeuse? Deciding immediately to shorten it for ease, you opened your mouth but apparently, he was on a roll, and continued. 

“And I already told you.. We’re dead. Deceased. Post Mortem.” Bumping into the wall, just hearing the words from someone else’s lips made you stop… Well, dead. Pun intended. Before they could be halted tears were gathering in your eyes… You weren’t even that emotional about it anymore, had already spent endless nights sobbing about what-ifs and regrets...Not for a while, still, it never got any easier to think about. 

Trying and failing miserably to hide the sniffles, you peered at BJ’s surprised expression. 

“Shit...shit..shit. I didn’t mean to do that…. Don’t cry,” Wiping at stubborn tears that fell against your wishes, you could see BJ shuffle his feet, looking extremely uncomfortable at your sudden breakdown. You tried to calm him, ironically.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… Not been that great so far... Sometimes I think I might be in hell.” Staring at the ground, you had the overwhelming wish once again for it to finally swallow you whole and take you where you belonged.

“Is it… Your current occupants?”

“It certainly doesn’t help.” Looking up at BJ’s tilted head and rapt expression, the need to confide was making you continue.

“My Aunt left me this house and… I’ve hated seeing what they're doing to it.” BJ looked to be contemplating something before he spoke.

“I could help you.”

You looked at him “What do you mean?”

“I told you.. Again... Sweetheart, you’re smokin’ hot but your memory’s shit. I’m a Bio-exorcist. Getting breathers out is my forte. Well, most breathers can’t see me… But I can teach you! Breathers are waay more likely to see a ghost than a demon.” Riveted by what he was saying, you didn’t realize his pursuit until you felt his grip sound your waist, pulling you closer.

“Mmm… Get you in a little school uniform.. Give you extra credit...” Blatantly ignoring him, focusing on the important part of what he said. 

“What you’re saying is we can get these kids out of here?”

“Of course babes. I take my job very seriously.” Shooting him an incredulous look, you managed to extract from him without much ease, he was really touchy for someone you just met.

“Yeah, I noticed…”

This was insanity. You weren’t actually considering letting this.. Demon?! To teach you how to scare the young men living in your house. It was dangerous and crazy.

Even more, there was no other option. Desperate times.

“Then you’re hired,”

“Oh, this is gonna be so good!” Once again having to duck away from his advance, you pressed a hand to the dirty front of his suit, holding him at bay.

“Stop that,”

“Hmm... Playing hard to get, I respect that.”

Maybe this wasn’t a great idea.

**

In hindsight, it worked out perfectly. Beej, as he had assured, was very good at his job. Just because that job entailed scaring the shit out of anyone and anything around him shouldn’t be held against him. 

Once again, incredulously if you had known in your life that your love of horror movies would have come in handy in your afterlife, you would have paid much more attention.  

Beej was impressed with your novice skill. The voice throwing came naturally to you, and your favourite trick was hiding in the corner of one of their bedrooms, positioning your arms and legs at odd angles and whispering to the sleeping boys, stifling giggles as they awoke, petrified and flew downstairs, waking everyone else in the house.

None of them could actually see you, but you had sworn the one redheaded one had locked eyes in the bathroom mirror, the two of you paused before the urge to scare rapidly left and the need to leave arose. Walking out the bathroom his eyes had definitely followed. 

He never told his friends about it, but BJ had said he watched him lay awake more than one night, clutching his sheets a little too tight. 

Possession was something you felt was unnecessary. Beej had often offered to uh.. Show you how it worked but the thought of BJ well.. Inside of you… It made your skin crawl and you didn’t know if it was from repulsion or excitement.

BJ was.. Unexpected in the best way. Devilishly Intelligent. Hilarious and.. You saw glimpses of his sweetness. He bashfully gave you dead flowers from the garden and was constantly sending you praises that would make you blush if you still had blood. How beautiful you were, how great of a scarer you were…. After getting over the whole stink thing, he was really cute and you might have been... Falling for him. Just the thought made you terrified. 

It all came to an end gradually. It was unexpected, you thought it would have been some big final fright, using all of your cunning ghostly powers. But no, one by one they just disappeared. Claiming to be moving back with family, dropping out, or simply leaving for ‘reasons’.

On the day you stood in the kitchen, now empty save for a few left behind appliances, the beaming smile sent to BJ couldn’t be contained.

“We did it.”

“You did it, babes. I was uh- Just along for the ride, I guess.”

Shifting closer to him, you saw with amusement Beej staring at your lips. The BJ of before would have taken your closeness as an immediate seduction, trying his luck. Now the fact he was trying to control himself, made your heart swell. 

The moment was broken by the sound of the front door opening, you held your breath to see who, or what entered.

A beautiful couple entered, followed by an obvious real estate agent, discussing the house. The couple seemed too good to be true, polite, and awed at the house. Seeing the little bundle of a baby tucked in the mother’s arm as they continued their inspection. You supposed in a way Aunt Gertrude had gotten her wish. And that could be enough.

You turned to Beej watching the scene with an odd countenance.   

“Thank you BJ, really. I’ve had a lot of fun.” You finally noticed. There was purple in his hair, something was making him sad.

“Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?” 

Oh. oh.

Struggling to answer him, you watched as he further sank in himself. “I read the book, BJ..The Netherworld… Shouldn’t I be…”

“Not yet! Once you get there… We won’t be able to see each other this much... Haven’t we been having fun?” 

“Of course but-”

“Don’t leave!” His voice was frantic, higher-pitched than you ever heard, you couldn’t find the words to calm him.

“Please! I’ll… I’ve been looking into something…” The moment took the oddest turn when Beej practically flew to his knees, reaching out to you to clasp your hands between his before clearly speaking two words you never imagined him saying.

“Marry me.”

The words shocked you. Scandalized, you said the one thing you could.

“Beetlejuice!” That wasn’t it, the look on his face broke you. It was pitiful, desperate.

“No nonono say something else babes, let me explain!” You reached out, stroking his stubble as his giant, golden eyes glittered at you with so many emotions swirling.

“I’m not gonna send you away Beej, stop please.” Taking deep breaths between you, the urge to sink to the floor with him ran over you. Somewhere in your mind you realized how stupid this was, two ghosts having a panic attack in the kitchen, but weirder things have happened.

“If I… Marry a breather. I get brought to life. So I’ve been thinking..” Beej was asking to marry you.. Could ghosts and demons even get married? Would you have a wedding? Invite other ghosts to the ceremony?

“I don’t know BJ… We don’t even know if it will work,” You hadn’t said ‘no’ yet. At the moment, you couldn’t find the desire to do so. You liked Beej, it was the little things in death you realized that mattered. 

“What have we got to lose?.. I thought..”

Looking at him, on the floor with you. Overwhelmed with affection, you leaned forward, noting with glee Beej’s astonishment. Kissing the ghost with the most was... Everything and nothing what you expected. His tasted like cigarettes and dirt, still you leaned into him more.

The one thing that could make death totally rad. Being with him. He was absolutely right. Pulling away, looking at his blissed out face, eyes staying closed, you gave him your answer. 

“Yes. Okay. I’ll marry you.”

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice broadway #betelgeuse #charles deetz #lydia deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #beetlejuice request

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 10.5

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,400

Warnings: F!Masturbation

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21

Eva woke, her hands reached out towards the space where he’d been.  The sheets were cold, though the pillow still had a little indention on the side closest to her. She flipped over and slid from the bed and pulled on her usual long t shirt, throwing her hair up in a bun as she made her way out into the living room. Feet squishing against the carpet, Eva squinted in the very early morning light filtering through her windows.

The sun was not even quite up yet, casting everything in a blue-gray tone that would momentarily begin to turn pink and orange. Eva rounded the turn into the living room, catching sight of Horacio’s head bent over, his hands tying the laces of his boots.

“Were you going to say goodbye?” she asked, no bite in her tone.

He’d made coffee, the smell pulling her into the kitchen. She reached into the cupboard and pulled down a mug—North Dakota State University, Fargo. Creamer. Sugar. Pour. Eva turned and leaned against he counter, watching him circle around the couch and approach. His face was carefully neutral. She rolled her eyes, drinking deeply.

“You were sleeping,” he offered, reaching over to where his discarded mug was sitting, the Las Vegas one again.

She shrugged, “I wouldn’t have minded if you woke me.”

Nodding, he set the mug in the sink, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Eva hummed, taking another sip of coffee. Even with the mug sitting right up against her mouth, she could smell him.  He’d showered, shaved, put on cologne, but, underneath, it was still there. Her fingers clenched on the mug as she attempted to take nice, calm breaths. It didn’t help. Her mouth felt dry despite the beverage in her hands, her skin prickling with awareness. She asked a question to distract herself.

“How long do you think the meeting will take?”

His brows lifted a little as he thought, “I have no idea. Depends on what it is. Likely, its a debrief from  the raid.”

One corner of her mouth turned up, “You haven’t debriefed on that yet?”

“Not officially,” then, “Can I come back afterwards?”

Eva’s heart warmed that he was asking rather than assuming—even more that he looked just a tad bit unsure. She reached out and put her hand on his where it was braced against the counter near her hip.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

His smile was soft and happy. She couldn’t resist rising onto her tip toes and placing a quick kiss to that smile. As good as her intentions may have been, it did not end out being a quick kiss. He leaned into her, a breath pushing out through his nose as he wrapped an arm around her middle. On the counter, he rotated his hand, threading their fingers together. Eva moaned lowly, nipping at his lower lip, needing to taste more of him.

Her nerves lit up, heat suffusing every inch of her body. The flesh along her neck and spine tightened, goosebumps rising. She arched up into him, satisfied by the groan the movement seemed to force out of his chest.

Pulling away with a gasp, he said hoarsely, “I really do need to go.”

Eva nodded, mouth open, already using his shoulder to pull herself back up to him. He took the kiss greedily, slipping his hand from hers so that he could reach down under her thighs to set her atop the counter. Stepping into her space, he yanked her hips to the edge. She didn’t have to be encouraged to drape her legs over his thighs.

Rucking up the t shirt, he palmed her breasts, thumbs circling roughly over her nipples. Hips rolling, Eva ran her fingers down the buttons of his uniform, tracing his belt buckle before giving the pronounced bulge below it a firm stroke. Against her mouth, he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. He let her rub along the length of him a few times, before he grasped her wrists and set her hands firmly on either side of her hips. Leaning a little weight on them, he rested his forehead against hers.

“I can’t stay,” he whispered, eyes locked on her folds where they peeked out from under her shirt.

Relaxing the muscles of her hips open, Eva tilted them upwards, giving him a full, generous view of how wet she was. He rocked on his feet, a little growl rumbling in his chest.

“I mean it, Eva. I’m already late.”

Horacio didn’t move, his jaw working, eyes dark. Eva let him look, could feel her body growing even more wet, slick sliding sensuously over her folds.

“I’ll be back,” he said, finally looking at her face. “I’ll go to this meeting and I’ll come back here.”

She smiled coyly, “Stop at the drug store on the way back.”

Seemingly against his will, he huffed out an amused laugh, “I’ll do that.”

When she leaned up to kiss him again, he pulled away, hands constricting around her wrists in warning. Eva let her body fall back, her head knocking against the cabinets. He gave her one more once over, tongue wetting his lips. Then, he was striding out of her apartment without looking back.

Eva sat there for a while, body pulsing. Then, she hopped down and, leaving her coffee on the counter, she headed back to bed.

She woke for the second time that day on the brink of an orgasm, her fingers shoved deeply inside of her, a half formed dreamed lingering in her muddle mind. It took next to nothing to push her over with a sharp cry.

Stunned and heaving, Eva stared at the ceiling until the blood was no longer rushing in her ears. Blinking, she sat up and pushed the hair that had fallen out of her bun from her face.  

“Okay,” she said to no one in particular, “I probably needed that.”

Still a little lightheaded, she shoved the comforter down and rolled out of the bed. Moving towards the shower, she yawned wide, stripping the t shirt from her body and throwing it somewhere in the vicinity of her hamper.

The shower was hot and soon the room was filled with steam.  She scrubbed at her face, letting the water cascade over her. Her body was still buzzing from her dream, though the details were extremely hazy. The only clear thing she could remember was the feeling of Horacio’s hands running up her legs from ankle to thigh, pushing them open. Everything else was just sensation and the feeling of her body clenching down.

Shivering despite the hot water, Eva grabbed the loofah from where she’d dropped it the night before and drizzled body wash on it. She started to run it over her arms and chest, yelping when the scratch of the fabric bit too deep. Curious, she thumbed over the bundle. It wasn’t any different than it had been less than a day before. Dubiously, she tried again, hissing when the feeling bordered on pain.

Staring at the loofah, Eva bit her lip, wondering at what the fuck was going on. Chucking it to the side, she reached for the shampoo, cleaning her hair, wincing when her nails scratched a little too hard at her scalp. After gingerly rinsing the suds from her hair, Eva turned off the water and steeped out, blindly reaching for a towel.

It took at least ten minutes of starting and stopping to get her body dry, her skin somehow too sensitive for even the soft, fluffy towel. Eva sat on the edge of the tub, the towel hanging from her fingertips, breathing deeply.  It felt like she’d brushed her entire body against the front glass of a tv, that fuzzy, electric sizzle radiating all over.

When she was able to stand, Eva padded out to the bedroom and ransacked her dresser for something to wear.  Everything she owned was too clingy, too scratchy, too thick. Shoving the drawer closed, she turned and looked around the room desperately. Nothing...nothing...nothing...there!

Sliding down onto her knees, she dug through the hamper until she pulled out one of his shirts, holding it up with a wide smile. Burying her face in it, Eva moaning lowly, inhaling his scent, still relatively fresh. On the exhale, a whine escaped her throat, sounding needy even to her own ears. Shaking her head, Eva pulled the shirt over her, the baggy material hanging over-sized on her body.

She inhaled. There. That was right.

Eyes flicking to the bed, Eva contemplated getting back in and sleeping more, but nixed the idea.  She wasn’t tired anymore. She was wide awake and filled with a kind of nervous energy that had her bouncing on her feet. Tucking her arms against her chest, she scuttled out into the living room and sat heavily on the couch, reaching for the remote.

She flipped through the channels for a while, finding nothing that was going to hold her attention. Distracted, Eva laid back on the cushions.  The clock on the wall read nearly eleven. He’d been gone for a few hours, surely the meeting wouldn’t take much longer. She selfishly wanted him back with her, in her arms, in her bed, despite knowing that what he was doing was important. Eva chastised herself silently. She could be patient.  She should be patient. He’d come back and then she could…

Her mind drifted off into a favored, and closely held fantasy. He’d spent hours going down on her over the last few weeks, happily drawing orgasm after orgasm from her. He was always moving inside her by the time her brain kick started again and so she never really got the chance to return the favor. The few times she’d tried, he’d tucked two fingers under her chin and pulled her back to his mouth, stopping her thought process entirely. Eva knew that she’d have to catch him off guard, which was almost never. He was always scanning the room for threats, no matter where they were, and only very rarely fully relaxed.

It would take effort, but she’d have to wake up before him, press little kisses over his chest, down his stomach, fingers gently rustling the trail of hair leading downwards. It would be easiest to do after one of their late nights, where they were too exhausted to throw on clothes afterwards, sleeping naked and entangled.

She could use her hands to gently stroke him, coaxing him to arousal. Eva wondered if she could do it without waking him. He was not a sound sleeper, waking if she so much as turned over in her sleep. She would have to be very, very careful. Her mouth watered as she thought about taking him in her mouth. She didn’t think she could take more than a few inches, but she definitely wanted to try. What she couldn’t reach with her lips and tongue, she take in her hands.

Maybe he’d wake as she sucked on the tip, tongue running over the slit. Groggy, it would take a few seconds for him to get his bearings. She imagined he’d suck air between his teeth, hands reaching for her. She’d swat them away, focusing on a slow, teasing rhythm. Eva wondered if he’d keep still, letting her do as she liked or if his hips would flex forward, pushing his cock further into her mouth.

Shifting on the couch, Eva bit her lip and ran her hand down her belly to touch herself gingerly. She was wet, messy, and swollen. Moaning, she pushed two fingers inside, curving them up. Pinpoints of pleasure blossomed all over. She used her thumb to circle her clit, her thighs shaking as her arousal spiked. Eva came hard and fast, her mouth open in a soundless cry.

Her fingers kept going, winding her higher, high pitched whimpers escaping her throat. She ground against her own hand, lips pulled back from her teeth as she sought out that second orgasm.  It hit her like a train, her ears ringing.

Eva panted, sweat pooling below her. Her thighs clenched together, an inexplicable pulse in her core.  She sat up and looked down at herself, bewildered. She’d just had two deeply pleasing orgasms and she was still fucking horny. That was...not new…

Swinging her legs over the edge, Eva stood and paced.  Each step created a little friction, her body answering with a dull throb.  She grabbed her purse from where she’d thrown it the day before digging for her pack of suppressants.  She’d taken them correctly. For safety’s sake, she grabbed her cold coffee from earlier and downed one.  Eva knew it would do no good. She was beginning her heat cycle and it was unlikely that it could be stopped now.  

She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring at the sink while she processed this new development, but her phone ringing snapped her out of it. Eva stumbled to it, picking it up with a scratchy ‘hello’.

“Did I wake you?”

Oh, God. Dear, sweet lord. The sound of his voice made her knees buckle.  She had to brace herself against the wall to stay upright.

“No,” she said with a little bit too much force. “No, I was awake.”

There was a beat of silence, then, “Are you alright?”

She swallowed a little moan at the concern in his voice, knees pressed together. No, I’m not alright. I’m  on the upswing of my heat and you’re not here with me.

“I’m okay.”

“Good,” he replied, “Listen, there’s something that’s come up. We’ve got a real chance at...we could get him this time.”

His words were stilted in a way that told Eva he was trying very hard not to be excited by the prospect of catching Escobar. He’d been tracking him for so long and there was a kind of timid hope underlying his tone.  She couldn’t do it.  She could not tell him.

“That’s great,” she managed, working to make her tone happy and bright.

She heard him sigh over the line, “I’m not going to make it back—I’m sorry. We’re heading out to a location pretty deep in the forest, a compound we got a tip about.”

Holding her hand over the receiver, Eva took a long, deep breath, “How—how long will you be gone?”

“A week, maybe a few days more.”

Eva’s entire world stopped, spun around, and fell face down on the floor. She scratched at the skin above her brow, trying to think of something to say that wasn’t begging him to come back and fuck her through the next few days while her heat continued to rise and crest.

“I’m not sure what is the appropriate thing to say, here.” She was going to try for a joke. “Is it ‘good luck’ or ‘happy hunting’?”

His laugh was genuine and it tunneled right down into her belly, adding to the pressure that was building at a rapid pace.  She had to get a handle on this really fucking fast.

“How about I just go with, ‘be safe’?”

Eva could hear his surprised inhale and it made her smile.

“I will. I’ll call you when I’m back.”

“You do that,” she whispered.

They said their goodbyes and then Eva was hanging up the phone, trying to work through what she was going to do. All the while, her pulse was rising, her body warming, slick dripping between her thighs. She could barely fucking think around the need piling higher and higher in her body. Inevitably, she came to the conclusion that there was really only one thing she could do.  She picked up the phone and let her office know that she was going to be out sick for the next week or so.

Turning, she headed for the bedroom, each step more excruciating than the next. By the time she got to the door, she was on her hands and knees. She had to make herself come again before she could even cross the threshold.

Breathing hard, she licked her dry lips and crawled hand over hand until she reached the bed.  Then, she rolled heavily to her side. Eva laid there for a while, sweating into the carpet. When she had the energy, she reached underneath the bed, fingers trailing along the edges of a cardboard box.  It turned as she grabbed at it, until her fingernail caught on the lip, pulling it towards her.

Hugging the box to her chest, Eva rolled to sitting.  She pulled off the lid and threw it to the side, reaching in and unwrapping the dildo from the spare shirt she’d kept it in. It had been an impulse purchase after she’d gotten out of prison. During her incarceration, she’d had two heats without a partner, thrown in solitary for her safety. Afterwards, Eva had decided that if she wasn’t going to have someone with her, she’d at least have the tool she needed to help her get through it as painlessly as possible.

Tracing her fingers over the length of it, Eva laid the first two over the knot at its base. She’d lingered over the decision as to whether or not to choose one with it. It felt a little too taboo to admit that this was what she needed it for, but Eva had forced herself to be practical. Even now, she could feel herself flush as she thought about sitting down on it and pushing that knot inside her.

Rising to her knees, Eva climbed onto the bed, falling to her back.  Panting with the exertion, she laid there for a moment and collected herself. The next wave would start soon and she wanted to rest while she could.

It didn’t take long, the steady hum of her arousal sizzling upwards through her skin. She breathed deep, centering herself as her mind took its leave and left only her writhing, needy body. She spread her wetness over her folds, slipping her fingers in to ensure a smooth glide.  Then, she grabbed the toy and pressed the tip in. Careful not to get ahead of herself, Eva let her body suck in the length at its leisure, until the knot was pressed right up against her.  

Fuck, but it felt good—her mind whispered that it could feel better. She could have a warm, solid man atop her, whose cock was thick enough to burn her when he pressed into her body. Very sternly, she told her mind to shut up. It was no use wishing for what she couldn’t have, and he was gone, anyway.  She’d take what she could get.

Still, her mind kept replaying the night previous.  How he’d held her wrists so tightly. How he’d used his weight to keep her still and open for him. She pumped the toy into herself, groaning at the memory. A thought snagged at her brain, something he’d said.

...feels too good when you ride me…

Eva hadn’t missed the way he looked up at her when she was bouncing on his cock, the way his hands gripped her, the praise he gave her. He liked watching her take her pleasure from him. It made her think that he’d very much like watching her take his knot in the same way.

Moaning loudly, Eva folded her body over and balanced on her knees. She let gravity pull her all the way down, the toy dragging against her walls. She knew she wasn’t going to be able to drag this out any longer. She needed it too much now.  Grinding down on it, she took a deep breath, and let her hips open wide, the knot pushing past her opening with an internal ‘pop’. She screamed, coming around it, body shaking so hard that she could not remain upright.

That’s how it went for several days.  She’d wake up, fuck an orgasm out of herself, pass out. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t move from the bed except to use the restroom. A few times, she leaned over the tub and guzzled water from the tap. The heat burned through her in a way that left her exhausted and weak and sad. At its height, she cried tears all over her pillow, her only thought that she wanted him to be there.

Thankfully, it eased after the third day, the downward slope filled with more naps and less frantic masturbation. By day six, she was up and moving, eating a little, and watching TV listlessly.  She’d have to go back into the office eventually, but for now she was happy to do absolutely nothing while her body recovered.

#narcos #horacio carrillo #carrillo #A Need So Great