#i am shaking i could either cry or throw up i may be a bit pale but unsure

[thecherrygod]

out of everything that i thought could be triggering for me when reading, and that i usually ignore those and tho i may feel a bit bad its never enough, i never thought reading a fanfic that sorta articulates a bit more than others about strains and dislocations and similar wounds would be the kind of thing that would make me at least take a step back from reading bc it managed to lower my blood pressure

[beastofmoss]

Explain your song choices or else 👉

Okay, well, hot dog. I finally got to this ask. I am so sorry for not replying sooner, putting the concepts/ideas in my head into word format that is understandable for people can be hard and requires loads of thinking on my end. The plight of being a blonde, weep for me. 

But, I finally got to this, so thank you for your patience my little funky anon that I may or may not know;;;;00000.

I also found it best to just to pick out the lyrics and describes the reasoning/meaning for Deshan.

Metaphors by Crane Wives

“I’ve gotten good on leaning on metaphors/I’vegotten good at living someone’s else page.”

Deshan’s job in the clan was to be a spy, they were trained from a young age to lie and deceive people–carefully masking themselves and playing different roles. 

“I cut my teeth on secondhand sentiment/you can’t trust a single thing I say”

They are emotionally distant from those they love, and they lie to everyone. They are someone who doesn’t really talk about themselves, and answer questions vaguely. They come in with their warm persona, asking questions, and just,,,,uses it to disarm people–to make people underestimate them, trust them, yet never letting them have any grasp over them. 

“But I always dig up bones in your sympathy/I cant trust a single thing you say”

Digging up someone’s bones is a metaphor for someone who dwells and regrets loosing a relationship in the past. This could be about Deshan’s relationship with themself and their identity as a Dalish (Ir tel’him) or their strained relationship with their brother, Viveras. 

Their trust is hard to earn. They’re a spy, they know how easy it is for people to turn. Yet, even with all their experience–they still ended up trusting the wrong people, and they are hurt from it (Solas, Inquisition, etc.)

Take me to War by Crane Wives

“All of the fire I’ve swallowed/All of the sparks that went dark in my gut/I am always burning up”

This describes how Deshan bit their tongue a lot during Inquisition, playing their warm mask even when they want to rage and cry. Trying their best to ignore the snide remarks of their culture, the worship of them, and the eyes constantly on their back. 

“Dress me in red and throw your roses/And I’ll rankle the beasts with words/its a graceless dance of epithets/we learn to make someone hurt.”

This refers to how people “throw their roses” at them, praising them as they struggle with their declining mental health. “A graceless dance of epithets” epithets can be a term for abuse, this connects to the point above. 

“Give me a fight I can’t resist/Give me something to break with my fist/Take me to war/Oh, honey, I dare you”

This refers to Deshan’s rage and hurt. They want to break things, scream, and to never be a thing to worship anymore. This also refers to Deshan’s rage towards Solas, and the warpath they are set upon–to ruin his plans, maybe save him. If not, they would stab him in his chest than his back–such as he had done to them. A kindness in their eyes.

“I watched a weed usurp the garden/And it poisoned the rest of the crops/It would take days of fighting stubborn roots/To tear the whole damn thing out.”

The corruption in the Inquisition from Deshan’s eyes. Their hate towards the Inquisition as well.

“So I will leave it where it’s standing/And instead I will find me a match/I’ll burn it all to kindling/I’ll burn it all down to ash.”

Disbanding the Inquisition(which was their orginally idea before the whole Solas and Qunari thing happened) And I had a scene planned out where they either start a fire with either the Book of Inquisition, Skyhold, or Inquisition’s flags. Also their rage and anger about how the Inquisition turned into another power-hungry organization, something they never wanted to happen. And to prevent it from becoming like the Inqusition of the Old, they disbanded it. Freeing themselves from it, and shaking off the chains that was forced upon them.

Like Real People do by Hozier, my Solavellan song. 

“I know that look dear/Eyes always seeking/Was there in someone/That dug long ago/So I will not ask you/Why you were creeping/In some sad way I already know/I will not ask you where you came from/I will not ask you, neither should you.”

I wanted to have the story of two people who feels the utmost guilt over things they did in the past and recognize the sadness that one another carries-the guilt, and just learn to form a friendship and romantic relationship. Solas and Deshan notices that about one another, yet they don’t brooch the subject–it creates a small understanding, although their situations are completely different. 

“Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips/We should just kiss like real people do.”

Both characters had titles to play, roles that were forced upon them. Titles replace names, makes people less. When Solas and Deshan are together, they are not those titles. Solas isn’t Fen’harel and Deshan isn’t the Herald/Inquisitor, they are just themselves. Solas and Deshan. Real people.

This also connects with Solas' derealization, as he grows close with the people in Skyhold–the more real they are to him. 

Also, another great song that I feel like describes Solas’ feelings/opinions on romance/friendship is “It will come back” by Hozier.

[grievediary]

6/7/23

23:19

Today has been a day of recovery still; just want to talk about some things I've been thinking about.

It's been a hard week. Some good things have happened recently though. I got a job for the summer (and hopefully a bit beyond, if I can manage my schedule well), and secured a place volunteering in a research lab, to start hopefully sometime in mid-July.

I got extremely sick on Monday, where I woke up with a super sore (started feeling it Sunday?) throat that got progressively worse through the day til I ended up with an excruciating headache, full body muscle aches, and intermittent nausea. I thought it was the flu but now perhaps just a viral bug, because the worst symptoms were that night and I've been getting better every day, though it was really, really awful. Last time I felt anything near that was two years ago where I got so sick I called 999 because I thought I was going to die.. hah. I remember phoning him and trying not to cry, because I just wanted a parents reassurance and felt so alone and like such a child. I felt it again that day.

I ended up sitting in the bathroom shaking, and I stuck three fingers down my throat to make myself throw up finally to try and get the nausea to go away. I vomited twice, the only meal I had that day and it was as disgusting and awful as every other time I've thrown up. Truly I think it's the worst physical experience. I ended up back in bed, feeling so cold but sweating and restless and I was waking near every 30 minutes in a state of near-delirium. Didn't think I'd be able to sleep more than an hour straight through but I think my body was so exhausted it just sort of gave up. Sore throat, headaches, no apetite still for days after, but I had a proper meal again on day three, so there's that. Eating more today too, though it's not enjoyable. Had to call out of work but hoping to make it into my shift tomorrow.

I also start moving out tomorrow. I want to say it's annoying, but ultimately I think it just saddens me. Moving itself isn't really a big deal, I think I just get tired of this impermanence, the repeated transitions and largely the reminder that I do it primarily alone, and I'm alone because he died and I have few friends. It's hard to think about.

I also had therapy yesterday. We went over an international trauma questionnaire, and I'm supposed to get some feedback on during the next session, but I did look it up after and read through the assessment criteria. I think it stands to reason that I may have CPTSD. I've suspected this for some time now, but thinking of it actually being concrete, my current reality, has been very jarring. Also quite upsetting.

I've been thinking a lot about loss again. Loss of family, friends, and thinking about past experiences that won't be repeated. People I most likely won't ever see again. Conversations that won't happen. Love that I can't make known. It's been really hard.

Being unwell meant I've been on bedrest and it's meant my mental health started to slide. I've been feeling distanced from friends, though one has been reaching out to me every day to ask how I am and if I need anything, and that's been really really nice. Still I wish I had more friends, more connections. Could feel like I'm cared for more often, because it feels so extremely rare. That people's care for me is made known, and I really feel it. I wish it wasn't like this. It's like at moments I reverted to being a child again, sick and wanting nothing more than to be nurtured, taken care of completely but the harsh reality and overarching background is that I won't ever experience that again, and I don't think I'll experience anything similar to it either.

I think I'd like to let myself be open to a soft and careful love. I'm deathly afraid that it's never ever going to happen.

I talked about being tired, in therapy, about feeling it both mentally and physically. I have felt psychologically tired for a very long time. Every day takes energy and effort that I think should be impossible for me to gather. This quote, by Anaïs Nin -

Life requires an effort I cannot make.

Yeah.

[l-r-christian]

Okay somebody else already requested Elijah smut but can I request another one please😊

Sure you can hon. ☺

Warnings: Smut, fluff at the end

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x F!Reader

It was odd to Elijah as lately he had been craving his lovely girlfriend, Y/N L/N, who was gardening with Hope. Y/N was dress in one of his shirts and yoga pants hiar up in a messy bun and Elijah found her more attractive.

"Back at your predatory staring?" Klaus teased making the older vampire stand straight and look like he wasn't imagining his girlfriend on her knees in front of him.

"I am not." Elijah muttered side glancing at Klaus then glanced back at Y/N and Hope.

"Caroline pointed out you and Y/N hadn't got to be alone in along while due to Hayley."

"Hayley needed help with a vampire problem. She been needing help since Jackson's death."

"More like flashing her mournful doe eyes in hopes you forget that you have a girlfriend." Klaus said smirking and before Elijah could say a word. Y/N walked up with Hope who made grabbie hands at her father while Y/N looked worrily at Elijah.

"I should lay Hope down for a nap." Klaus says picking Hope up leaving Elijah alone with Y/N.

"Are you alright Elijah?" Y/N asked her voice like honey to Elijah nuzzling into her palm when she reached up cupping his cheek.

"I'm fine baby. Just missing you." Elijah said softly kissing her palm seeing her soft smile. Y/N leaned up kissing the corner of Elijah's mouth only for him to turn his head capturing her lips in a hungry kiss. Elijah backed Y/N against a wall picking her up by her thighs as he attacked her neck with love bites.

"Elijah?" Hayley questioned making the Original quietly growl against Y/N's neck and sat his girlfriend down. Elijah turned out while Y/N fixed her hair as Hayley crossed her arms over her chest.

"Need something Hayley?" Elijah questions leaning over to Y/N kissing her head wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I was hoping you could come by and help me out with something."

"I can not Hayley. I am taking Y/N out may be Niklaus can help you." Elijah said scooped up Y/N up into his arms surprising her making her wrapped her arms around Elijah's neck.

"Elijah what....." Elijah cut Y/N off by kissing her hungrily again making her moan raking her fingers though Elijah's hair pulling groan from him.

"I apologize baby. Lately I have been craving you." Elijah said against her neck as his hand moved under the shirt. Y/N shivered feeling Elijah's fingers brushing along her skin as she pulled off his tie and suit jacket.

"Elijah." Y/N breathed tilting her head to give Elijah more room to leave love bites on her neck. Elijah turned dropping her on the bed pulling off her pants then leaned down kissing Y/N deeply as she reached up unbuttoning his shirt. Elijah kneeled down gently kissing her legs moving his mouth up to her thigh dangerously close to her heat. Y/N let out a loud moan when Elijah's mouth was on her mound as he used one arm to hold her hips down.

"You taste divine baby." Elijah said against her thigh his voice husky making her quiver. Elijah moved his mouth back onto her aching core, she moan loudly when he slipped two fingers in her. Y/N's chest was heaving as she gripped the sheets arching off the bed as Elijah sucked on her clit.

"Elijah. .....please...I can't." Y/N whimpered feeling him add a third finger while his thumb circled her clit. She wanted to close her legs but Elijah held them open as he worked her and she came hard.

"You did so good baby." Elijah whispered in her ear as she whimpered while he pulled his fingers out. Y/N 's face heated up watching Elijah lick his fingers clean then pulled away removing his the rest of his clothes and stopped her from removing his shirt from her body.

"Leave it." Elijah tells her grabbing her legs pulling her to the edge of the bed. Y/N watched as Elijah placed one for legs over his shoulder and held the other one spreading her open.

"Eli......." Y/N was cut off by the thrust Elijah gave making her arch throwing her head back surprised with how deep Elijah got. The smirk on Elijah's face was almost evil as he moved slowly at first then he got rough.

"You always take me so well baby." His voice low husky making her walls flutter. Elijah's voice always had an affect on her, a cry ripped from her throat as Elijah speaded her legs wider getting deeper. Y/N was babbling as tears rolled her face shaking.

"El...Elijah." Y/N choked out reaching up for Elijah and he smirked leaning down his forearms on either side of her head. Y/N shook wrapping her arms around his neck burying her face in his neck to muffled her loud sounds.

"You are....doing so well baby." Elijah groaned feeling her walls tightened as he moved kissing her neck. Between his powerful thrusts and his fingers work her throbbing clit, Y/N bit Elijah's neck to muffle her screams as she cummed hard and Elijah followed after cumming with a deep growl. Y/N panted feeling pleasantly sore and blinked feeling Elijah wiping her bottom of her lip to see it was blood.

"I....I...I'm sorry...Eli." Y/N squeaked out seeing the wound on his neck healing as he smirked leading in kissinng her deeply.

"It is fine baby." Elijah tells her softly before pulling out making her whimper. Elijah scooped her up to get her cleaned up. Y/N relaxed against Elijah as they sat in the bath and Elijah massaged her legs as her felt sleepy.

"You...said.... you had been craving me.....what did you mean by that?"

"I couldn't stop thinking of you. I just kept feeling this urge to take you. I guess because I had been so busy." Elijah tells her as she kissed him. Elijah took control of the kiss as Y/N sat up straddling his lap.

"Maybe we should satisfied it."

"Maybe we should."

[hitnran]

STRESSED (gender neutral! reader)

what they do when you’re stressed

includes: izana, kakucho, ran, rindou, shion, mucho, sanzu, hanma

note: i miss tenjiku

— IZANA KUROKAWA

If you’re stressed out and want Izana to help you out, or at least notice that you’re feeling off, it’s going to be a little bit difficult.

You’d either have to be so on edge where you either blow up or give him the silent treatment where you just want to be alone. In that case, Izana would be very confused. He’d question why you’re acting so weird towards him, not even picking up the possibility that something was bothering you.

He’ll most likely leave you alone for a bit to cool off or until you become yourself again. If he were still curious as to what was up with your attitude earlier, he’d bring it up.

“Why were you ignoring me earlier?” Izana questioned. There was no build up to the question nor hesitation behind asking - he was charismatic enough to be the leader of a gang after all.

You felt a little bad. It was nothing he knew about, yet you took your stress out on him without telling him what was going on. You went on, answering his question, and telling him how stressed out you’ve been lately.

“Well, tell me next time,” Izana sighed, shaking his head. He really wish you would’ve let him know what was going on earlier. He thought so much time was wasted of you ignoring him when it could’ve been so much easier if you had just told him you were stressed.

“Hey,” Izana called out to you.

You turn your head in his direction and a hand was placed against your cheek. Izana doesn’t often show his affection, but when he does, he does it in the most intimate moments to let you know how much he loves you.

He peppers your lips with kisses, pulling you into his chest and softening his voice, “Don’t stress over it so much; you’re just wasting your time.”

— KAKUCHO HITTO

If you’re stressed, Kakucho’s going to immediately know. It’s apart of his character to pick up on the behaviors of those who he is nearby. If you’re feeling off, he’s going to try his best to help you through it.

Kakucho would firstly make sure you’re comfortable. He’d lay you down, make sure you’ve eaten first, and massage your muscles of any tension. He’d then slowly ease into asking you if anything had happened.

You tell him how stressed you’ve been with things occurring in your life whether it be major or minor or both. He listens into every word, nodding and speaking here and there to show that he is attentive. When you’re done with your venting, Kakucho would surprisingly give you good advice to help you through it.

If it’s a situation that he can’t completely speak on or help you with, he still wants you to know that he is there for you. There’s no reason for him to apologize, but he does it anyway because he feels such empathy for you and doesn’t want his lover to be so upset.

“I’m sorry that happened to you, love,” He’ll say, his eyes evidently filled with worry.

Kakucho would pull you in closer, rubbing your back and asking you if there was anything else he could give you.

“Just hold me,” You murmured into his arms.

“I planned to do that all along,” His soft chuckle was already enough to boost your mood.

— RAN HAITANI

It is quite easy for Ran to tell when you are stressed as well. It may be an older sibling instinct, but he picks up on small things especially behavioral.

Just in case it might just be him being paranoid though, he’ll also ease into it. Maybe he’ll joke around and tease you a little bit before confirming that something was up.

“Babe,” He calls out to you.

You silently hum as a response, not giving him the proper attention he wanted. In that case, Ran will just throw himself onto you, locking you in his arms until you tell him what’s wrong. Sometimes it gives you a headache, especially if you just wanna be alone. Usually Ran would give you space if you wanted it, but only if you tell him first.

“What’s wrong?” Ran asks you, running a hand down your back to soothe you.

You tell him how you have been stressed and he takes in all the information. In the end, he knows there isn’t much he can do about it himself, so the best thing Ran will do is just get your mind off of it.

He’ll ask if you want to go outside, maybe just for a ride on his bike or to be treated with your favorite dessert. If staying in is something you’d prefer, he’d run you a bath and pamper you, clearing his entire day just to spend with you.

— RINDOU HAITANI

A lot like Izana, Rindou’s not going to pick up that easy on you being stressed. He just takes it as you being slightly annoyed by inconveniences in your life; which for him, happens a lot, but you aren’t him.

He’ll only pick up on it if you obviously show that you’re stressed whether it be raising your voice, crying, or wanting to be alone. But prior to it, he won’t really approach the situation very well.

“What is up with you?” Rindou raised an eyebrow, wondering why you were acting so off. “You’re being so bothersome right now.”

Rindou is very blunt, and sometimes, he doesn’t think about what he says before saying it. You know this, but with your emotions all over the place, you couldn’t help but cry in front of him.

His knees will lock up in place and he’ll start sweating. It’s not often you cry, so when you do, he genuinely doesn’t know what to do. Rindou just panics and he drops his ‘cool act,’ putting his hands all over you and sitting you down to calm you down.

“Shit,” Rindou panics. He pulls you in for a hug, chanting words of how he’s sorry. “I’m sorry, baby. Did something happen? Did I make it worse?”

You calm yourself down, catching your breath before speaking. When he hears how you’ve been feeling lately, he feels so guilty for not picking up on it earlier.

He’ll lay you down, softening his touch and his voice, and just allow you to talk it out until the conversation heads into another direction and you two are either talking about some silly topic or have fallen asleep.

— SHION MADARAME

Shion is exactly the kind of guy who is ‘asshole to the world but not to his S/O.’ He switches up and makes a complete 180 around you.

He truly cannot believe that he has someone like you in his life and the last thing he wants to do is make a mistake. Sometimes, Shion is a little too on edge and cautious. Even if nothing is wrong, he’ll still ask things like ‘am I doing okay?’ or ‘how are you feeling?’ He just wants you happy.

But when you’re irritated about whatever it is going on in your life, Shion starts panicking on how to approach the situation. He’ll start losing it even more if you begin to cry.

“Ah?” Shion’s eyes widen and his mouth gapes, seeing you have a breakdown. He gulps hard, immediately pulling you into a hug. “D-Don’t cry? Ah, fuck.”

The best way for him to deal with you is to just make you laugh. Shion is a very funny guy, even when he doesn’t intend to be funny. Just seeing him panic so much is already making you laugh with how he’s running around.

He calms down a bit when you emit a small laughter, eyes still puffy and red. Shion will loosen his shoulders, wiping your tears off with his thumb and asking what happened and if there’s anything he can do.

— YASUHIRO MUTO (mucho)

Mucho is a quiet guy. He only speaks when he feels like it’s necessary and isn’t afraid to put in his opinion. With you, it’s the same but he’s a little bit more cautious with what he says.

Instead, he’ll silently observe you. As someone who dealt with getting rid of rats within Toman, he’s very keen on behavior that is different from the norm. He noticed your sentences cut short and your breath becoming more prolonged and exaggerated.

“Something happen?” He’ll finally give in, pulling you down into his lap and massaging your shoulders. “You look stressed.”

Although he doesn’t speak much, the words he says in reply to you venting to him is rather good advice. Even if it were just a couple of words, you know that he means every bit of it.

“You’ll get through it, I know it,” Mucho says, placing a kiss on your neck. “And if not, that’s okay too. We aren’t made to succeed in everything.”

— HARUCHIYO SANZU

Sanzu’s way of dealing with his own stress is to isolate himself until he feels like the situation as passed to where he can finally go back to acting ‘normal’ again.

Sanzu is also very observant, so if he sees that you’re stressed out, he’ll also probably leave you alone for a bit unless you tell him or give signs that you want him.

He’s not going to ask you what’s wrong until later on - if it were important, he’d want you to just tell him upfront. But if you didn’t tell him, then he just assumes that it’s an issue that will pass.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. He’ll still put in the effort in small ways like still making sure you’ve eaten, making sure that your space is clean, etc.

He’ll be patiently waiting for you to ease down. When Sanzu sees you finally showing yourself to him, he spreads out his legs a bit to signal to you that he’s free to talk to.

You place yourself in his lap and he cradles you. He’ll stare at you, waiting for you to say something before he can engage. If it’s someone who bothered you, Sanzu might consider ways to deal with them in private (but you always tell him that it’s not that serious). Otherwise, he’ll just listen and want to get your mind off of it.

— SHUJI HANMA

Hanma spends a lot of time with you throughout the day. He doesn’t see anything wrong with just wanting to use all of that time on someone he loves. If he’s bored, he’ll go over your place.

When he enters your place, he knew something was off. You didn’t even greet him at the door and that just won’t do.

Hanma will scoop you up, your face close to his, “Now what’s goin’ on, doll? Someone piss you off today?”

Hanma is surprisingly really easy to talk to. He nods in between your sentences, showing that he’s paying attention. Sometimes, he’ll plug in jokes here and there to hopefully get a laugh out of you.

“You’re stressed? Then stop being stressed,” Hanma teases, squishing the sides of your face before kissing you. He’ll latch himself into you, “Just give me that attention instead.”

[pigeonp0st]

May I request a fic where Wanda Maximoff tries to make the reader who is shy laugh and accidentally discovers that the reader is extremely ticklish and she pins down and tickles the reader? Could you make it around 900 words and fluffy? Thank you! :)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader #3

Words: 1,489

Warnings: A vaguely sexual sentence

Notes:

There’s not an ounce of angst in this? Who am I? And I’m uploading again after only 3 days??? I feel reborn! Anyways, thanks for requesting and sorry for spelling mistakes.

————

Supernova’s have nothing on you. That’s what Wanda thinks the first time she sees you smile. She thinks of supernova’s, planets, and comets in the sky and she thinks of how she’d give up them all just to hear you laugh.

She’d give star, on top of star, she’d give galaxies, and wishes that aren’t hers to give, she’d give you anything, if only she could.

Telling you that though, that won’t make you laugh. It isn't funny to her how much she adores you (how much she loves you), and she doesn’t think it will be funny to you either. Honestly, you’d probably cry, and then Wanda would also start crying— and you’d both just be crying.

No, Wanda decides fairly quickly, that isn’t a good decision.

So...instead she tries stupid jokes on the internet, pranks on the others, pranks on HERSELF, stupid faces... everything...but apparently everything is not enough to make you laugh.

It’s infuriating.

Infuriating because sometimes—sometimes, you look so close. So close to laughing that your shoulders shake with the effort to hold it in, and she’s left to wonder why you try so hard to keep her from the one thing she desires more than anything.

You’re her girlfriend, and she’s never heard you laugh. It’s quite possibly her greatest shortcoming in life (she has a lot of them). She’s heard chuckles, and breathy laughs, she’s heard small huffs of laughter, and she’s seen gigantic grins, but she’s never heard you laugh fully, and unapologetically.

Today— today will be the day it happens. She’s more determined than ever.

————-

Today won’t be the day. She’s tried everything and more, and the only thing she’s gotten out of it is you looking at her like she’s crazy.

“I’ll pay you,” Wanda finally says, “please if you just...if you just…” She can’t bring herself to say what she wants because somehow it feels like she’s breaking the rules she’s made up in her head. “Can you just please?”

You watch her for a couple of moments, thinking so hard she can almost see the wheels turning in your head—yes, yes, yes, finally, Wanda thinks— but then you shake your head in exasperation, and continue eating your dinner.

Okay, this is fine; Wanda tells herself.

...tomorrow will be the day.

———-

“Have you...just tried to tickle her?” Sam asks Wanda the next day. “I noticed her holding in her laughter when that stray we kept last week started licking her foot—so she’s probably ticklish.”

She’s been complaining to him about her failures their whole lunch, and it seems to have paid off. Sam is a very smart guy. When she says so though he snorts and shakes his head in amusement.

“No red wizard, this time I think this is more about what you lack than what I have. You’ve been thinking too big.”

Wanda glares at him. “Call me ‘red wizard’ again the next place you’ll be flying is into a volcano.”

…Despite the change in their conversation, and the bickering it turns into, it was a very helpful discussion.

———

Mission ‘Hyena” is a go (she decided to name it Hyena because they are known for their laughs. She thinks it’s pretty creative).

All she has to do, she decides, is ambush you. The best time for it will be right after training—you usually decide to take a quick bath and lounge in bed afterwards, and you’re very sweet and gullible when you’re tired.

For some reason her plans make her feel like a very sneaky and awful person. She feels a bit of guilt…it doesn’t override her excitement, fortunately. She has been waiting for this day too long to feel any significant amount of guilt. Plus, it’s not like her end goal is malicious.

———

You're laying in bed scrolling through your phone when you get pounced on by Wanda….You’re not exactly surprised by the occurrence though.

Wanda’s been looking at you like a panther when she thinks you aren’t looking, but one that’s truly bad at hunting. So you aren’t surprised that she jumps on you, but you are surprised about WHY she jumps on you.

You were expecting something far more scandalous than a tickle fest.

———

Wanda doesn’t start tickling you immediately. She’s so utterly shocked by your expectant raised eyebrow that she just pauses for a moment, lost.

“Is it okay that i’m on top of you?” Wanda asks after a moment, because she realizes that she sort of has you trapped.

You pause, thinking with narrowed eyes. Then say, more amused than disappointed, but still slightly disappointed, “yeah.”

Wanda thinks back on all these past weeks, on all of her efforts to make you laugh—actually laugh— and starts to raise her hands-

“Is this the part where you tickle me?”

Her hands freeze. She freezes. You even freeze.

“Oh,” you say, smirking with a look far too smug, and far too victorious for someone who was supposed to be losing, “did you think I was an idiot?”

And Wanda drops her hands back down, this time not on your wrist but across her chest, and then over her face because she has truly never felt more ashamed. Not for her schemes, but for how she’s failed them.

She doesn’t know when this turned into some sort of competition, but it’s clearly one-sided.

“So...you’re not going to tickle me?” You ask when Wanda gets off of you.

Wanda grits her teeth, feeling more bitter than she ought to feel. “No, you dork, if I tickle you now it’s anticlimactic. You just had to go and talk, didn’t you?”

You actually have the decency to look guilty for a second, but then you realize what the two of you are talking about and just snort. “What is this, some badly written fic on tumblr by some overwhelmed gay author? At least try. Come on, it will be amusing for me. You might even get me to laugh at your struggles.”

Wanda doesn’t really stop to muse about how oddly specific you were, she just rolls her eyes and turns to leave...only to get stopped by you tugging on the back of her shirt.

When she looks over her shoulder to look at you your eyes are hard and determined, and she knows what’s about to happen now too. Just like you had.

She knows, because the determined set to your eyes turns soft the second Wanda meets her eyes to yours, and you're sitting back down now, letting go of Wanda’s shirt.

“You really gonna give up that easily?” You ask quietly, eyes shifting to the ground. And Wanda is just melting, melting because she loves you and you’re the sweetest person she’s ever met, melting because you're willing—you want— to give her what she wants.

Wanda lets out a small breathless laugh, turns around completely, bops you on the nose with a soft smile gracing her lips, and only hopes that it communicates ‘I love you’ effectively enough.

You smile back, unable not to, waiting for Wanda to look for what she wants. “Who cares if it’s anti-climatic, right?”

To your surprise, Wanda grins, kissing the top of your head, and says; “I wanna surprise you. It’s more fun that way.”

So you grumble and pull her into a hug, because if she isn’t going to tickle you, you expect her to hold you anyways.

She does.

———

Mission Hyena fails. She’s not too mad about it.

She can’t be, when just the next morning she wakes you up with kisses, and tickles, and you wake up grumpy and laughing all at once.

She can’t be when your laughter fills her sun kissed room with even more light, and she can’t be when this moment feels like it’s more than worth the wait.

As Wanda watches you laugh, watches as you throw your head back and force out breathless, soft pleads, she thinks that she would have waited eternity for this moment.

Supernova’s, galaxies, comets, wishes, and an endless amount of stars, they all would have been worth it, but none of them would have been a payment high enough. ‘Anything’ is not even sufficient enough.

You just look and sound so happy, and it’s all Wanda has ever wanted to give you. It warms her heart more than anything else ever could, warms it so much she wishes she could bottle this moment and keep it with her forever, because memories aren’t good enough either.

Still, when you ask afterwards, grinning and exhausted with your arm still clutching your torso and your voice still raspy; “was it worth it all?”

Wanda smiles, fulfilled and happy too, and doesn’t mention the price she was willing so pay. She just nods her head, and says; “Yeah. Yeah, I think it was.”

Like she wasn’t just considering if next time the universe would be enough.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Be Here | The Mikaelson Boys

Hey lovelies! You ever just take a year to write a part two? Well, thanks to @hellotvshowtrash 's writing challenge I have finally written the second part to Come Back. I straight up just sat down and wrote this in less then two hours. The muses have blessed me and said Elijah Mikaelson reunion fic or nothing. I am not stupid-- I will not deny them. Shoutout to Lottie (@imdreamingwiththestars) for making me miss these boys <3

Description: Elijah was dead and now he's not, stand-alone sequel to Come Back

Pairing: The Mikaelson Boys x Fem!Reader, Mainly Elijah

Prompt: "What was it like to die?"

Warnings: rushed writing, mentions of depression

Word count: 2k

Tags: Soft Angst and then Fluff

It’s been two years— well, almost two years. One year, eight months, and seventeen days. But who’s counting, right? Certainly not you. Certainly you wouldn’t be stupid enough to honestly believe that he’s coming back. Even after the promises. His promises and their promises— it doesn’t matter. Both mean nothing. You don’t blame them but you would be naive to believe them.

Still, you keep count— just in case. There’s no harm in that, right? Two years— one year, eight months, and seventeen days— without Elijah Mikaelson. Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, your throat closing like it’s been only a few hours. Maybe there’s a little bit of harm.

You press your face harder into the sweater curled under your head. It doesn’t smell like him anymore— there’s no cinnamon left, none of his at least. None of the sugary vanilla that used to encase her like a NOLA bakery. Only traces of Kol’s nutty cinnamon blend— he must’ve snuck in here last night at some point. Both him and Klaus occasionally do. You don’t blame them for that either— you don’t have a monopoly on missing Elijah Mikaelson.

Slipping out of his sheets is harder than you would admit if either of the brothers were to ask you. It’s not like they’re warm or anything— they’re just as ice cold as the rest of the room— but they’re his and the thought of going the rest of the day without them just doesn’t appeal to you the way it should. Voices flit up the stairs but you don’t strain hard enough to make out the words. You could if you wanted to but there’s no point— you don’t care anymore. Not about trivial things— not about talking. You only do it when you have to these days.

The trek across the room to the door takes what feels like an hour. In reality you’re sure it’s only seconds but, well, this time you aren’t counting so who knows— maybe it did take you an hour. Sun is filtering past the curtains now, painting a stripe through the dim room and across the oak floor. An hour. You pause beside his dresser, debating going in to dig out a new hoodie. You haven’t taken a new one in about three months but your stash is running sparse. It’s not a hard decision, pushing past the dresser and leaving it untouched— you’ll need it more later.

In the hallway things feel different. You can’t put your finger on what it is exactly. There’s a slight shift in the atmosphere and a little more of a kick to the energy in the compound. It feels alive— like everything is humming. The hair on the back of your neck raises instinctively, the answer on your tongue but not quite forming. It’s probably nothing— you haven’t slept in two weeks. It’s probably exhaustion. You’re a vampire but you’re not impervious to sleep deprivation. Time marches on whether or not you acknowledge it— whether or not you reject it. You’ve learned that the hard way.

It’s why you keep padding towards your room, feet soft on the hardwood, trying desperately not to draw the attention of whoever’s in the kitchen. The electric charge in the air follows you to your bedroom, increasing ten-fold when you cross the threshold and halting your advance. You haven’t been in here in weeks but for some reason it feels like everything’s been disturbed. Not in a noticeable way— there’s still a thin layer of dust over everything— but something’s off. Your stomach rolls as you glance around at your things, the pressure building as your neck tingles. You could honestly just fucking scream.

Still, you push further, braving the sudden unknown of your room with a burst of stamina you haven’t felt in months. Breaching the doorway feels like being sucked into a new planet, one unrecognizable and dangerous. Thankfully you don’t need oxygen because you’re pretty sure there’s none in your room. Your chest is tight— heavy— and you make quick work of changing into a new pair of shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt that’s been hanging untouched in your closet for at least a year. You haven’t been afraid of it, per say, but you certainly weren’t ready to wear it. Today feels like the day though.

It isn’t until you go to sit on the bed, not bothering to even try to balance as you put your socks on, that you’re finally rewarded with a clue that you may not be as crazy as you feel. It’s warm— the bed is warm. Not the whole bed— because yes, you do reach out to check— only the part you happen to sit on. It’s warm like someone was just sitting here minutes ago and you spring up as quickly as you went down, closing your eyes and pulling in as much air from the room as possible. You’re getting to the bottom of this now. When the air reaches your nose some of the pieces begin to click together—

Cinnamon.

Only a faint trace of it but still your chest jumps— is it— no don’t be stupid it couldn’t be. You thump a hand against your chest to clear the feeling as you force your legs to carry you out the door. You realize too late that you only have one sock, your bare foot pressing against the cold wood of the staircase, but you’re too far and too determined to go back now. You’ve got to find Kol and you have a pretty good idea you know where he is.

Sugar wafts to your nose as you press towards the kitchen, mixed with a touch of citrus— Klaus must’ve picked up your favourite pastries. As you reach the door voices flit stronger to your ears. You can make out Klaus’ hushed tone but not his words, followed by a comment from Kol that you can’t decipher. Good, they’re both here.

The kitchen is by far the brightest room you’ve ventured into in months, the countertops gleaming so bright you have to squint, throwing a hand over your brows. When you blink, clearing the glare however, you notice something peculiar— no pastries. You could have sworn you just smelled them—

“Love, you’re awake.” There’s a whoosh of air followed by two hands on your face and the lingering scent of honey shampoo.

You smile weakly up at Klaus, shrugging. “Was never really asleep.”

Another pair of hands wrap around your stomach, pulling you into a nutmeg chest, lips finding your head. “That’s not healthy, darling. How long’s it been now?”

Shrugging again— this time at Kol— you let your eyes wander the kitchen, nose wrinkling at the heady sugar scent. “Two weeks, give or take.”

You can’t locate the source— but, then again, you can’t see past Klaus’s worried eyes. You watch as he tosses a look behind your head, presumably at Kol. When you roll your head back though you find that his brother’s brown eyes aren’t meeting his stare but are also tilted behind him. You chest jumps again, the air thickening, energy coursing through you— what the hell is going on?

You push away from the boys, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to the source of whatever’s got the compound disrupted this morning. Opening your mouth, you go to make a snarky remark— or to scream, you aren’t sure— but when you finally see it all that comes out is a soundless gush of air. All words are lost as your eyes drag over the back of a familiar brunette head, passing down a muscled back and over sweatpants you haven’t seen worn in years. One year, eight months, and seventeen days. It’s all you can do to poke your tongue out of your mouth, sweeping it over your dry mouth and tasting sugar.

There’s just no way.

You take a step backwards, back slamming into one of the brothers but unable to tear your eyes away from the figure long enough to see who. “What— what’s happening?”

Always the noble one, Elijah Mikaelson doesn’t keep you waiting, whirling on his feet, a box of pancake mix in his hands. “Couldn’t have waited ten more minutes, baby?”

You’re not alive but for a moment it feels like your heart stops as you drink in the man in front of you. Brown hair, brown eyes, stubble on his jaw the same as the day he died. Your vision clouds over, tears tugging at the corners of your eyes but you refuse to blink them away. You’re not risking clearing a vision this clear.

You take a tentative step forward, afraid that if you move too quickly the mirage might evaporate. “Elijah?”

“Hey baby.”

If your dead heart stopped upon seeing his silhouette then it restarts when he passes you the familiar, crooked smile that you fell in love with all those decades ago— the same one you’ve been longing for since the day he left you.

Fuck tiptoeing.

You’re across the room in record time, your hair flying behind you as you launch yourself into his arms, praying to whoever will listen that your body hits something solid. There’s a muted thud followed by his arms wrapping around you— his physical, cinnamon sugar scented arms. At his reciprocated touch you finally let yourself sob. You can’t remember the last time you actually let yourself cry but you are now and it’s finally out of relief.

Your hands attack his face, palms deranged and fingers haphazardly dragging across his neck and jaw and scalp. Your shoulders are shaking, tears hot against your face and pooling over your lips but you refuse to look away from his gaze. He looks just as wild as you feel, brown eyes ticking rapidly over your features. It’s all you can do to smash your mouth against his, crying through the kiss before laughing because he still tastes like your Elijah. Like cinnamon buns and sweetness.

“This can’t be real— you’re dead. I saw you die!” You sob against his lips.

He presses his mouth back just as hard, hands digging against your skin and clawing at his band t-shirt. You reciprocate by squeezing your thighs harder around his hips, pressing your body as close to his as you can get. It’s not enough but you feel like you can finally breathe again when you crush your arms around his shoulders.

“I know—” he finally murmurs into your mouth— “but I’m here. Right here.”

You pull away, hands still carding through his soft hair, pulling at the damp strands. “‘Lijah you were dead— I— I thought you weren’t coming—”

Your chest feels heavy again but he’s quick to move, cutting your destructive train of thought with his cinnamon and honey lips. You don’t mind— he could do anything right now and you would still cling to him like your life depends on it. Kissing him has been at the top of your list for two years now— you’re not going to refuse. One of his hands lowers, hooking around your thigh and tugging you higher up his body. You’re not the only one whose life depends on staying as connected as possible.

“It’s real— I’m real. I promised you, baby. I’m back— I promise I’m back.”

Just like that you’re back to giggling against his mouth, arms anchored behind his neck. Soon your head is falling back, the euphoria rolling through your body like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You would never wish for him— for any of them— to leave you again but this feeling makes every gruelling day worth it. He’s back. As if to prove it his lips find your neck, kissing over your skin feverishly.

After a few moments of soaking in the attention of the resurrected man you finally pull yourself together enough to attempt a true conversation like a respectable woman.

“What was it like to die?”

He chuckles against your skin, shaking his head, his lips never leaving you. “I’ll tell you later— there are a few matters we need to sort out first baby, starting with getting you out of that fucking t-shirt. It’s been too long.”

Who are you kidding— he’s right and you hum your agreement, lips searching for his, desperate once more—

“One year, eight months, and seventeen days too long.”

[benevolentcalamity]

Be Our Guest

So uh.

This is a thing. That I am doing.

Anyway.

Alcina Dimitrescu x Female! Listener

Just so we’re clear this is too long to get to much so this’ll have a smut chapter next time. Just FYI. This is just implied smut but nothing happens, so enjoy.

Enjoy you stunning pomegranates

“Mother, I found her first - I should taste her blood!”

“No, me, I’m the one that said she was pretty!”

“Daughters, please. There’s plenty to go around, so don’t lose your heads.”

Through the throbbing pulsations in your head, you pry your eyes open enough to peer through your lashes. Three black clothed figures are in a perfect line, bickering amongst themselves until the towering white behind them reprimands them, patting them on their heads. It pushes through them, approaching you, until you can make out the figure.

A woman, undeniably tall, dressed elegantly in a white gown and hat, black gloved fingers fiddling with the cigarette holder with almost disturbing dexterity. Her red-painted lips stretch into an amused grin too big for her face, clearly noticing you rousing from unconsciousness. Kneeling, she reaches for you, patting your cheek.

“Wake up.” Her voice is more playful, like a mother ready to torture you with a day full of work. “Come now, wake up.”

Her patting grows harsher, and you blink a few times until she’s clear. By instinct you put your hand up in defense, and she backs away, her only objective having really been to wake you. Turning a bit to cough into your fist, you push down on the floor to sit upright, rubbing your eyes.

“She looked cuter passed out,” One of the black trio pouts, prompting one of the others to shush her.

The tall woman’s hand extends toward you, beckoning you. More confused than afraid, you take it, and she pulls - more like yanks - you to your feet. You feel a bit wobbly and maybe cold; a reminder that you are in fact alive, and here you are. 

“Name?”

You blink, wrenching your attention from your momentary hunger pangs back to the woman. “E-excuse me, ma’am?”

 “What is your name?”

Swallowing, you interlock your fingers to stop them from shaking. “[Name]. [Name] [Last Name].”

She nods. “Well met.” Almost flamboyantly, she puts her cigarette hand to her chest. “Alcina Dimitrescu - but you may address me as ‘Madam,’ ‘Ma’am,’ or ‘My Lady,’ understood?”

“Yes.” You don’t know what to do.

“... Well don’t stand there pouting, daughters, introduce yourselves.”

With visible glee, the black haired girl steps forward, giving you a somewhat snobbish grin through red-stained teeth. “Cassandra,” She sings, bowing her head.

Then the redhead. “Daniela.” Her smile is more... seductive, but one that signals to you her type of seduction isn’t the kind you’d want.

The blonde is last, her smile a Cheshire cat grin - one that simply says ‘danger’. Nothing more, nothing less. “Bela.”

“Good daughters.” Lady Dimitrescu grins in satisfaction, putting her hands on her hips. “Now, the moment we’ve waited for.” She then raises her hands, snapping her fingers. 

“Yes, Mother!”

Cassandra and Daniela move to either of your sides, gripping your arms. They’re too strong to fight against, rendering you motionless in seconds. On your right, Daniella flashes you a smile, before gripping your wrist and slicing your palm with a curved blade.

You cry out, prompting her to move her lips to your ear. “Shhh... Plenty of time for screaming,” She purrs, stretching your arm out as Lady Dimitrescu approaches.

Wrenching your wrist from Daniela’s fingers, she leans down, pausing for a moment before dragging her tongue across your wound. Almost ravenously she does a few more strokes, sucking on it to get as much blood as she can. Fear and confusion bring nausea at the sight - you swallow whatever vomit threatens to wrench itself from you.

She pauses again, eyebrows raising, before her lips open into a red-stained grin as she stands straight.

“Sweet and succulent!” She declares, prompting the trio to close in on you more, holding onto your arm and partaking as well. “Now, now, daughters, we mustn’t be so hasty. This is just too good to disappear into the cellar.”

“String her up!” Bela grins. “Store her and we’ll drink from her when we wish!”

Daniela’s arm goes around your waist, her free hand holding your chin. “But she’s so cute - would it be fair to treat her like a pig?” “What do you say, Mother?” Cassandra asks.

With a quick onceover of you - why that includes an elevator look at you you’ve no idea - Lady Dimitrescu takes a drag from her cigarette, blowing a smoke ring toward your head. “Whether this girl has somewhere to go from here, it doesn’t matter,” She hums. “Her blood is some of the best we’ve had in a good while - she’s worth keeping alive.”

You swallow, Bela and Cassandra backing from you, Daniela moving behind you to keep cuddling you. “As of right now, she is a guest in our home,” Lady Dimitrescu continues. “I will deliberate as to what to do with her; Mother Miranda won’t need to know so long as she’s not making trouble. Daniela, show little [Name] where she’ll be staying.”

“Yes, Mother.” Daniella grips your arm, thrusting you outward as if dancing with you, before wrenching you back to her. With a sultry giggle she lifts you bridal-style into her arms, the other two waving at you as you’re sped away as though flying on a magical carpet.

It’s a smooth ride, one that’d easily repeatedly trick you into thinking you’re gliding instead of being carried, but a glance at Daniela’s grinning face reminds you that you’re indeed welcome - you’re not home.

A second passes, and she stops, putting you down onto your feet. However, her arms wind back around you, but around your shoulders, leaving you at the mercy of her teeth.

“Here we are!” She giggles, throwing her arm out, inviting you to look around the room. It’s large and... definitely more Versailles than any you’ve seen, but comfortable had it not been for the fact you’re here with women that could spell your demise.

Releasing you from her hold, Daniela circles in front of you, flashing you a smile alongside a tilt of her head. “I hope you enjoy your stay. And if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more...” She pauses for effect, running the blunt edge of her blade down your face. The cold steel freezes your spine, and your palms grow clammy. “Don’t hesitate to ask.”

She replaces the touch of her blade with her hand, forcing you to look in her eyes. “And I’m warning you~” She sings, “You’d better not do anything to make Mother regret her well-placed mercy. You understand me, little one?”

Quivering, you nod. “I-I understand.”

Her smile grows to show her teeth, and her blade snakes around the back of your neck, forcing you to lean forward to avoid being cut. Mischievous, she leans forward as fell, planting a kiss on your cheek before retreating, dispersing into locust-like insects before leaving, the door somehow closing when the swarm leaves.

Stepping away from the door, your lips purse and release with emotions and sounds that crash against each other, creating a practical thunderstorm in your chest. Everything’s still spinning a bit; your head still has a nasty bump from when some smelly hairy man with a hammer jumped you in the village. Your brain’s foggy, but your memories are still intact. How long, though, is the question.

Deciding to examine the room, you walk around, taking your shoes off and holding them to avoid staining the rug. The first thing you notice is the vanity, gilded and polished to perfection. Sitting down in front of it, you comb your fingers through your hair, more to calm yourself down than anything. Eventually, your hands fall still in your lap, and you stare into the eyes of a girl powerless to stop whatever will happen to her in this castle.

Dread slowly twists your stomach, and you stand, meandering to the window. The snow falls swiftly, nearly obscuring the view; a telltale sign a snowstorm is brewing. No sense in trying to escape and risking frostbite.

“I guess... I just wait now,” you mutter.

Helpless, you head over to the bed. Shedding your coat, you fold it neatly and put it on the nightstand, crawling into the layers of blankets. It smells like linen that, though clean, hasn’t been touched in years, not even by the faintest speck of dust. What’s there instead is an oddly comforting aroma, like grandma’s house but if she were rich.

Reaching into your pocket, you tug out your phone. No signal.

You’re isolated, locked away, with no one knowing where you are.

The knowledge brings tears to your eyes, hanging over you as you tug the covers over your head, eventually curling up and drifting softly to sleep.

___

What rouses you from sleep isn’t your alarm clock as you’d have hoped, nor is it the chirp of the birds or your phone ringing asking where you’ve been. Rather, it’s your nose being, for lack of a better word, jiggled. Someone or something is poking the tip and wiggling it in circles.

Jerking your head a bit, you swat with your hand, opting to cover your nose, furrowing your brows.

Then a hand grips your wrist, and your eyes open. With black hovering above you, you’re thrown into perfect alertness, the red hair skirting over your cheek sending your palms down as you attempt to sit up properly.

Daniela grins maliciously at your reaction, licking her lips. “Mother needs you.” 

As she says that, a swarm of bugs burst through the door, clouding around you for a moment. Their buzzing almost seems to mimic your cries, some landing on you to wrench more screaming from you, before they pull away from you, concentrating at the foot of the bed, eventually forming Cassandra, Bela eventually sauntering in as well.

“Y-Your mother’s asking for me?” You near-squawk.

Cassandra snorts. “Of course. What else?” She asks. “Mother really likes you. Now, upright.”

You’re so spooked by the intrusion and the presence of all three sisters that you hurriedly slide away from Daniela and onto the floor, sliding into your shoes. Swallowing, you jolt at the sisters approaching you, a bead of sweat falling from your brow when their hands raise.

“Oh shit.”

They each grip you with both hands, suddenly turning into insects aside from them and holding you in the air, and just like with only Daniela you’re gliding. Only this time, you’re screaming horrendously, but the sound is so drowned out by the triplets’ sadistic giggling you’re unsure you’re making a sound. One hand crawls up your leg, causing you to squirm, and for a moment their faces materialize just so you can see them laugh at you for a moment.

Through sharp turns and whatever else, you’re eventually unceremoniously tossed to your feet, standing in front of a door. Whirling around, the girls materialize again, waving at you before dispersing into their swarms, swirling around you to make you squeal before flying off, likely to get to their own duties. Biting your lip, you turn back around, raising your hand to knock on the door.

“Enter,” Lady Dimitrescu’s voice calls. As you do, she continues, “Very good. At last, someone else around here with any sort of dignity and manners.”

“You... wanted to see me?” You ask, closing the door behind you.

“Sit.”

Peeking, you note the bench near the vanity where she’s sitting, avoiding eye contact with her reflection as it applies overwhelmingly red lipstick. Softly, you sit down in it, folding your hands on your knees.

“As you’re most definitely aware, I’ve had a discussion with my daughters as to what to do with you, and I’ve come to understand you’re certain to meet a grizzly demise if you attempt to leave this place.” The calm in her voice and the way she momentarily looks at you through the mirror twists your stomach. “... Ah. Dear girl, your heartbeat - I can hear it. It’s music to my ears.”

Pausing, she wipes some stray lipstick from the corner of her lips. From here, she looks normal sized, but you’re a good stretch from her. Swallowing, you try your best to remain composed. With no one coming to save you or even knowing you’re here, your best hope of survival is appealing to this giant of a woman.

“My daughters and I both adore you - and I mean adore you.” At first she cranes her neck, but then decides to turn her chair around, gesturing at you with her lipstick. “Look at you, my dear! Delicious blood, yes, but such pretty looks - it’d be a waste to just toss you down into the cellar.”

“So... what are you going to do to me?”

She throws her head back to laugh. “To you, the four of us can agree anything’s possible. With you, the decision itself is clear.” Her smile falls into a straight, business-y line, and you gulp. “You’ll become a resident of my castle, and you will not die a horrible, painful death.”

Relief at not dying washes over you, but then she stands and approaches you in what feels like a blink, and you flinch.

“However.” She uses a gloved hand to lift your chin. “You are not to leave, disobey, and you will repay us by allowing us to drink your blood. That is our condition. If you decide you don’t want to stay, then out of the good of my heart, I can promise you right now that your death in this room will be quick and painless.”

Your face grows cold. So you can be a personal bloodbag for all four denizens of the castle, or you can die. Splendid.

“Think about it. No one’s going to live to even see your face if they try to save you, and you’ll have the pleasure of being in my care as opposed to that fool Heisenberg,” She hums along with a chuckle deep in her bosom. “And if you want my personal opinion, you’d be far better off.”

Do you really have an option? “... O-Okay. I’ll stay in the castle.”

Her face brightens with that signature smile. “Ah, good girl!” She leans down and her hand reaches to pat your cheek. “We’ll find ways to take your blood that won’t leave scars, don’t you worry.”

Ring! Ring!

With a roll of her eyes, she straightens up. “As if there’s any more ways to take up my time...” She beckons you to follow as she returns to her vanity, and you awkwardly stand at her side as she sits back down, picking up the phone.

A moment passes, and she composes herself. “Mother Miranda, I regret to inform you that something unexpected has happened, and I’ll be a bit late for the meeting.” Glancing at you, she beckons you again, scrunching up her nose at your confusion. Lifting her free hand, she pats her lap twice, and beckons you again.

You blink. Does she want me to sit in her lap or something?

“Are you... asking me to sit?” You ask, and she nods. As you begin the motion she guides you the rest of the way with her hand around your arm, and you awkwardly shuffle so you’re comfortable.

Through her dress and your clothes, she’s cool to the touch, but not to imply she’s a walking corpse or something. Glancing at her reflection, she gives you an almost cheeky smirk as she adjusts her arm to keep you balanced.

“No, Mother Miranda.” Who is...? “Yes, of course, I understand the importance of this meeting. This will take me about fifteen minutes at most... Yes, Mother Miranda, I swear.” Then she nods, her hat gracing your forehead. “Very well.”

Then she hangs up the phone, letting out an exasperated huff. “So demanding.” And with no effort at all, she lifts you below your arms and stands, putting you on your feet like a toddler, patting your head. “You’ll have the pleasure of dining with us tonight. Since she seems to like you so much, Daniela will be responsible for ensuring you know where to go and what to do.”

Trying not to protest or show nervousness, you nod, to which she gives a satisfied upward nod.

“Now then, you’re grown enough to remember where your room is, yes? But feel free to explore the castle - but allow me to warn you, the cellar is off-limits. Do you understand?”

You nod. “I-I understand, Madam.”

“Very good. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to. When I return, I expect you’ll be well accustomed to the castle.” She flashes you a smile, her hip gracing your shoulder as she passes you. “And [Name]?”

You turn to face her, some sweat dripping down your neck. “Yes, Madam?”

Her eyes narrow, but her smile doesn’t drop; a look that says you’re in for something when she returns. “Enjoy your stay.”

Then she leaves, and the door shuts behind her, leaving you to listen to the sound of her footsteps fading away. Swallowing, you meander towards the door yourself, pushing it open.

And just as you do, the buzz of the insect swarms fill the air, and you clench your fists to stay calm even as the sisters materialize. With playful yet sinister smiles, they approach you, with Daniela going behind you to hug you just like before.

“Mother’s left for her meeting,” Cassandra points out.

A crazed look in her eye, Bela reaches and pokes your face. “I haven’t cut open a pretty girl in a while!”

“No, no~!” Daniela near-whines. “I’ve always liked the cute ones - I say we play with her a little.”

“And Mother made us promise not to leave scars.” Cassandra reaches out, cupping your chin, grinning at your face losing color from the dread twisting your stomach. “So don’t worry. We’ll be gentle.”

“We promise,” Daniela purrs.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

I just read your Riven fics and ommggg they are so good!! Idk if you are making a part three but I will definitely look out for it! I haven’t started the sly ones but I can’t wait!

Come back to me // part 2

Pairing: Riven x light!fairy

Breath caught in her throat, she felt her hands tremble as her eyes lingered on the envelope on her pillow. The handwriting is in the kind of black that speaks of nighttime dreaming. The letters are so typically Riven - messy and yet she could see the effort behind each and every word - To my Sunshine - .

It’s been a long time since he last wrote her a love note, far too long for her to truly remember what it said. She remembers how it made her feel - hopeful, elated, giddy. That’s all Riven needed to win her over - love notes he’d slip in her books whenever she wasn’t looking.

This time it felt different. The note brought anxiety, fear of what the envelope may hide inside. They barely speak nowadays and when they do, Riven is crude and too often she finds herself crying herself to sleep because of how convincing he is with his act. Sometimes she wonders if he’s acting at all or if that’s who he is with everyone but her and it makes her feel guilty. How can she still be questioning his loyalties?

Shaking her head, she releases a heavy sigh before her shaky fingers pry open the envelope. The paper inside is barely ink stained, a few words written for her aching heart.

“Still Your Asshole”

Chuckling, Y/N covers her mouth with an open palm, glancing at the door to make sure no one is nearby. It wasn’t a chuckle that seemed to stop as it turned into a cackle and that cackle turned into a sob. She didn’t know where the sobs came from, she just knew she couldn’t stop. As if the soul could bleed an ocean through the eyes, that was the enormity of her sobbing.

Screaming into her pillow, Y/N felt the rawness of her pain fully. It had revealed its ugly head and she couldn’t breathe. 

Riven may be hers but he isn’t. It takes a moment, a single mistake for him to be uncovered by Rosalind or Beatrix and he’d be taken from her. She’d never get to run her fingers through his brown hair, she’d never get to kiss his lips again or feel his hand in hers. He’d never tease her again, he’d never write her a new note or insist she needs him to teach her to fight. All of it would be gone in a blink of any eye and the severity of that realization choked the light out of her, even if for a little while.

She can’t always be the Sunshine. Clouds will eventually clear, but she needs the little bit of darkness and the sweetness it brings. Even if she’s in pain, even if the sadness threatens to suffocate her, she craves it. 

Riven makes her weak, he makes her vulnerable. She never dreamed she could care for a man like Riven, she certainly didn’t wish it, but she does. It’s more than caring for Riven, she’s way past that. Whatever wicked game he played to make her feel that way for him, it worked. She fell in love with Riven and now it’s consuming her.

Wiping her tears, she stashes the letter under her mattress before walking out in the sun. If she can’t be the light, she can at least get the warmth of another’s light.

She lays down on the damp grass, looking up at the sky. She looked at the sky like a man would look at a withered flower in which he no longer sees the beauty he plucked it for, thus destroying it.

This noble heart that beat only for the most tender of emotions had to be subjected to pain to learn the secret of life:

Love has to come at once, with thunder and lightning like a hurricane that wrecks havoc on your life, to shake you up and break the the heart like leaves off trees, to drag it into the abyss.

She’s in the abyss now.

“You can’t be here”, and then she hears his voice, pulling her away from the darkness. “Come on”, he whisper shouts as he takes her by the hands and helps her to her feet. 

She’s a little dizzy, disoriented by the sudden change in position. His eyes are on her, his face inches away and yet she feels like they’re a thousand miles apart. She doesn’t fight him as he drags her to the greenhouse, closing the door quickly so no one would see them.

“I got your note”, she’s the first one to speak. Riven turns to her with a small smile only for it to fall when he truly looks at her - puffy, red eyes and dry lips aren’t easily mistakable. 

He let out a slow controlled breath, “Is that why you cried?” Riven’s eyebrows furrow as he steps closer to her, his hands on his hips.

“I cried because I miss you!” She shouts, her fingers flickering alight and she knows she’s losing control. A shuddered breath passes her quivering lips, “I miss you and I’m worried about you and I hate you.” She says through gritted teeth and Riven can’t help but stumble back, confused.

“Me?” He raises his eyebrows, pointing his right index finger at himself, “What did I do?”

Scoffing, Y/N shakes her head. “YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU AND YOU’RE NOT EVEN HERE!” Covering her mouth, she turns away from him. She never told him that she loved him before and he never uttered anything close to it either. She feared looking at him and not have him say it back. After all, why would he?

“You love me?” Riven breathes out, still trying to collect himself. Crossing the distance between them, Riven wraps his arms around her. Pulling her back against his chest, he folds his hands over her abdomen. He’s holding on tightly, like she’s a dream he’s afraid to wake up from. 

“You love me?” He repeats in a whisper. Knitting her eyebrows together, she frowns and bites into the soft flesh of the inside of her bottom lip as his lips brush her earlobe.

“Yes”, she leans her head back on his shoulder, relaxing in his arms.

“Good.” Riven whispers and she snaps out of it, slapping his hands until he lets go. 

“Good?” She exclaims, her glare deadlier than a blade. 

“Yeah?” Riven chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

“I tell you I love you and all you have to say is good?” She deadpans, before throwing her hands in the air, “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah. It’s good, because I’ve been in love with you for about a year now and it’s good to know you finally feel the same way.” Riven shrugs, “But go on. I like it when you’re angry.”

Rolling her eyes, she playfully slaps his chest, “Don’t fucking do that to me!”

“Did you just say a swear word?” Riven’s eyes widen, a grin much wider making Y/N blush.

“You’re really going to nitpick at my language instead of kissing me now when we finally got a moment alone in months?” She raises an eyebrow, tapping her foot nervously.

“I’m actually running late”, Riven wets his lips and yet he doesn’t move away, but closer to Y/N. All he can taste is the cherry chapstick she wore the first time they kissed. That was on a constant loop inside his head.

“We could run?” Y/N tries, but Riven only shakes his head.

“I spent my whole life running. I can’t betray Sky like that. He’s my brother.” 

Struggling to inhale, Y/N whispers, “And what am I to you?”

“The love of my life.” Riven blurts out without a second thought as his hands cups her cheeks, “You’re the only reason why I’m never going to give up.”

“You’re saying all the right words and my heart still hurts”, she sniffles, hoping she doesn’t cry again. She’s had enough of crying for a lifetime.

“I wish I could make it better, I do.” Closing his eyes, Riven leans his forehead on hers, “I love you with all I am. With all I’ll ever be.” Drawing in a sharp inhale, he holds his breath for a moment to stop tears from forming. “If I were a better man, I’d have let you go.”

“Don’t be the better man”, she croaks, her fingers curling his hair at the back of his head. “Be the bad guy. Just be mine.” And she kissed him. With a devastating sweetness, an innocence - as if this were the first time. Strong fingers curved about her jaw and warmth seeped into her bones, her skin, her soul.

The lips held to hers, reassuringly alive. Riven had reassured her by the strength of his arms surrounding her and the steady wilderness in his chest, beat of a heart not her own. 

She was no longer alone in misery. Someone was there, keeping her warm, holding the memories at bay and dangers of the world could no longer get to her. Her lips softened; tentatively, she returned the kiss with all her heart.

Breaking the kiss, Riven’s arms leave her, the warmth going with him. She stumbles, catching her breath. 

Riven glances at his phone only to swear under his breath and she knows something’s happened.

“Listen to me”, Riven swallows thickly, “Stay with Stella and the rest tonight.”

“Why”, Y/N frowns, folding her arms across her chest.

“Don’t ask questions, please.” Pecking her lips, Riven takes a few steps back, “If you love me as much as you say you do, go now and stay with the girls. I’ll try to contact you as soon as I can.”

“Riven”, Y/N raises her voice, unnerved and anxious about his behavior. 

“Sunshine, please”, his voice softens and she nods, licking her lips. Before she can say a word, he manages a smile, “I’ll come back to you. I will.” 

And that’s when he leaves and Y/N does as he asked. But the nagging feeling inside her chest is relentless - something bad is happening and someone is going to get hurt.

Part 4 

[lokislastlove]

Come One, Come All! (Dark!Loki x reader) p.2

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, Knife play, Oral (m&f), Smut, Bondage, Kidnapping

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: Here is part 2, for those who have taken a chance on my trash, thank you so much!! I hope I don’t disappoint. ❤️

Chapter 2:

You feel your chest seize and you start to shake as your heart rate skyrockets, your body and mind dissolving into a full blown panic attack as you feel around the black box imprisoning you. You are only locked in for a minute before you hear rustling outside and you are thrown into the wall as the whole box shifts and turns.

“What the fuck. Oh my god, someone help! Please let me out!” Your voice cracks as your pleading grows more desperate with each passing minute.

You try to hold out hope that it’s a prank or part of the experience but after what you were sure had to be at least ten minutes of begging to possibly no one, you sag in defeat. Your eyes burn with hot tears, the temperature inside the box rising the longer you sit there. Stewing in silence and sweat, you listen to anything that might tell you where you have been moved to but the joyful bustle of the carnival fades early on.

You fall asleep hunched at the bottom of the box, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. You don’t know for how long but you are awoken roughly as the box tips over sending you face first into the solid surface. You grunt and stretch out, turning to lay on your back.

“Open it” you hear faintly.

The wall above you is ripped off instantly by a singular muscular arm. Startled, you gasp but manage to hold in the pathetic squeak when you look up into piercing blue eyes shrouded in unruly golden hair. Your own eyes widening as you take in the sheer mass of this man.

The muscles under his sun-kissed skin ripple as he huffs and stands straight. He scratches his bearded jaw, looking over to the darker figure you could barely see standing across from him.

“Yes I can see why you liked this one. Inquisitive eyes. A bit of fire in there, yes?” The hulking blond man raises a brow and smirks at you.

Had you not been in your current situation he would have been the type of man you could drool over for days. But considering the fact that you appear to be kidnapped, his physique only enhances your trepidation.

“Where the fuck am I?” You demand, fighting your soft-spoken nature.

“Yeah, there’s that fire” the large man chuckles deeply. “Want me to put her on the wall?” He asks looking back to his silent counterpart.

“The wall?” You mutter, panic rising again at the prospect of being ‘put’ anywhere.

“Yes, then you may go. Thank you , Thor” The darker mans voice drones, sounding bored.

The larger man, Thor, leans down and goes to grab you, making you scream and try to slap away his arms which is clearly ineffective, considering his bicep is the size of your head. He grabs your wrists easily and pulls you to your feet, you try going limp but he hardly seems to notice as he drags you out of the box. You start kicking and flailing wildly as he tosses you against a hard flat wooden surface attached to the wall. You sob as he takes one of your arms and stretches it straight out and snaps a mounted metal cuff around your wrist. You reach over with your free hand and try to unclasp the lock but he catches you and stretches the other arm out to the other side, rendering you completely helpless.

Arms spread wide, you feel exposed and vulnerable, especially when he traces his hand over your breasts before stepping away. That’s when you finally look at the thing you are mounted to. A circular wooden board painted red and white like a giant target, with you at the center.

“What the hell is this?” You tremble.

“Ankles too, for now” the dark suited man directs from across the room.

“Oh, well aren’t you a lucky girl” Thor chuckles under his breath before kneeling down and spreading your legs, attaching each to a similar iron restraint.

“Please. Please let me go” you plead softly to the bulky blond as he stands straight and smiles at you.

Thor brushes his thumb under your eye, catching a stray tear before sucking it into his mouth and humming.

“So sweet.” He praises before winking at you and leaving the room.

Your eyes settle on the lithe figure facing away from you. He’s tall and although he’s not as thick as Thor, you can tell he doesn’t lack strength either. He sheds his jacket and lays it neatly across the desk in front of him.

“If this is s-some sort of joke, it’s not funny” you stutter.

You watch in horror as he slowly turns to look at you, leaning back on his desk and crossing his ankles.

“You’re a clever girl, does this feel like a prank to you, darling?” His voice is as smooth as silk.

“Why are you doing this? Where are my friends?” You question, dreading the answer.

“Oh they will make fine prizes for the highest bidder. But you, darling… you caught my attention.” He explains blithely, slowly unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

“Lucky me” you scoff, narrowing your eyes at him as a wave of anger washes over you at the mention of your friends.

“Indeed.” He smiles cruelly.

“I swear to god if you hurt my friends –“ you fume before getting cut off suddenly.

You barely see the silver glint as something small whizzes through the air toward your head. A sharp silver blade sinks into the board next to your head, the shock causing you to choke on a gasp. It was mere inches away from your eye.

“Care to threaten me again?” He smirks, holding another knife in his right hand, the sharp point of it delicately pressing into the middle finger of his left hand.

You gulp as your body shakes uncontrollably, your life seemed to flash before your eyes in that moment. How did he throw that so fast, you say to yourself, the target behind you making more sense now. You shake your head in response to his question, voice lost amongst the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Very well” he nods once, with a small smile.

Your eyes are glued to the dagger in his hand, as he flourishes it about casually. Your muscles tense every time he tosses it gently in the air before catching it.

“Now, I want to know how you solved those riddles so quickly today” he asks lightly before throwing another dagger, this one splintering the wood inches away on the other side of your head. “And no lies.”

You squeak and close your eyes, body trembling so badly you aren’t sure how to form words anymore.

“I – I don’t know. I just did.” You manage to stammer out. “Please stop.”

Another dagger flies through the air, landing with a thud between your thighs.

“Oh my god, please! Please” you cry.

“You know some people could figure out one, maybe two, within the time limit. Most just get the answers from those who went before them. Others just come back repeatedly, mindlessly searching for the keys. But you… such a clever girl” he purred, pushing himself away from the desk still clutching another knife.

“You can hardly blame me for being curious” he continues, taking slow steps toward you.

He stops before you, admiring your terrified expression before dropping his eyes down your body. You pull on the restraints and shift in discomfort at his close proximity. He smiles as his eyes connect once more with your own, his pupils blown wide.

“I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t trying to – I won’t ever do it again. Just please let me and my friends go,” you beg.

You watch him smirk and sniff at your pathetic pleas, both fully aware you have nothing to offer. He turns and calmly walks back to his desk.

“Ugh let me go you fucking creep! What do you want from me?” Anger and panic causing you to lash out desperately.

He turns and flings another dagger at you, but this time you feel a sharp pain under your arm. You look over to see the dagger pinning your shirt to the board, slowly staining with blood.

“Oh my god!” You scream shifting your arm away from the dagger. “You cut me!”

“Barely more than a scratch. You’ll survive.” He assured you coolly with a roll of his eyes.

You feel the slow flow of warmth trickle down the underside of your arm and you whimper as you watch him near you again. He stops in front of you and pulls the dagger from the board, releasing your shirt. He admires the blade for a moment and then reaches out to you, making you flinch away. His eyes flare at your reaction and he tuts disapprovingly.

“This shirt, however…” he mocks, sliding the sharp end of the blade under the hem of the fabric along your stomach, “I’m afraid it will not.”

You gasp as he brings the knife up cutting through the flimsy material with barely any resistance. You cry as the cool air breezes over your exposed stomach. The useless cloth hanging loosely off your arms.

“Better” he coos his appraisal, as he glides the tip of the knife from your neck to your navel.

Your chest heaves as the reality set in like a boulder dropping in your stomach. You can’t believe this is how your ‘fun night out’ is going. Cursing your luck as you wonder why the hell your intelligence only seemed to lead you to trouble and scummy men.

“All of this because I solved your stupid riddles” you gripe, shaking your head in bitter disbelief.

“Stupid?” He repeats, his face twisting in disgust at the insult.

“Yeah, what is it? You have a problem with women smarter than you? No, that can’t be it, you’d have to be used to that by now.” You sneer.

You don’t know where this boldness is coming from, but something about this man makes you angry, and you figure, what do I have to lose?

His face twists in anger and he slams the dagger into the wall above your head. Your head is now caged in by three sharp knives and yet you suppress a flinch.

“That, wasn’t so smart, darling.” His lip curls in amusement as he backs off slightly and grips the rounded edge of the board spinning it until you are hanging upside down.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

[theseusurus]

Lost in a Haze, Fighting Fate | Part 2

Summary: Y/N Raven has always suffered from their sight, From a young age Y/N could just always seem to predict the future however they just thought they were lucky, after attending Hogwarts and discovering their Seer Roots they began to trust it more and more however that can not be said for others. When Y/N fled Hogwarts they left everything behind, their teen love, their friends, family, and now with what seems like all sides against them, will they be ignored like seers before them and feed into temptation or will they fight for the good in the wizarding world and their love?

PART 2: THE PROPHECIES

Warnings: Mentions Bullying, slight hint at emotional abuse, and possible tw derealization (very short)

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader (Slow Burn)

Word Count: 2.4k

PART 1

When you arrived in Professor’s Trelawney tower to prepare your lesson for the day you didn’t expect her to be all over you introducing herself as Sybill and gushing about how she was excited to work with you and how it was an honor. You waved her off with a smile before you got a feeling, it was like your heart was being pulled out of your chest and you grabbed at your chest with only one thought in your mind, Moody.

You ushered Trelawney an apology and called that you would be back but with that, you rushed to where you remember Trelawney had shown you where the Defense against the Dark arts classroom was and sprinted as fast as you could before you slammed open the door.

“Professor Moody, that iz quite enough! What in the great heavens do you think you are doing? I can hear your class telling you to stop from down the hall and performing Unforgivable curses in front of children?! This iz extremely inappropriate!”

Your Cry caused the students who were crying for him to stop and Moody himself to be startled and stop the Cruciatus curse, before storming over to Moody and slapping him across the face. He jerked and placed the Spider down as you walked over to the student who he forced to watch the curse, he seemed obviously uncomfortable at the curse, looking Almost downright paralyzed you placed a hand on his shoulder, and the other on his arm, you whispered to him “Are you alright Monsieur?” He shook his head No and you sighed.

You began to lead the boy out of the door before turning to Moody and sneering at him, “You should be Ashamed, I have NEVER seen such a disgusting teaching method, expect to hear from me again, next time I see this display I will personally inform Dumbledore, Are. We. Clear?”

He cleared his throat and nodded at you before turning to A bushy brown-haired girl who was also obviously uncomfortable, You turned away from him and continued to help the boy out of the classroom before leading him into an Empty Hallway, he looked sickly and as if he was about to throw up or pass out at any second, staring blankly into the wall, You reached out and rubbed his arm.

“Monsieur? Are you okay? It was disgusting what he did in there and I am completely sorry, are you doing okay? Do you need to sit? Here let me help you..”

You helped lower him to the ground and sat beside him smoothing out your robes, you didn't say anything for a good few seconds before sighing and turning to him.

“I know it might be hard but please talk to me, are you okay? Do I need to take you to the Medic?”

He shook his head no again, “You know, my parents were tortured with the Cruciatus Curse, Moody knew that too.” You released a deep sigh before shaking your head in disbelief.

It was quiet for another pregnant pause before you whispered to him, “You know I was hit with a Cruciatus Curse once, it's why I can't hear too well in my Right Ear and can't see too well, one of the many reasons I wear this Veil.” “Really?” “Mhm, Teenagers can be Cruel, they didn't get much trouble for it either..” “Oh…” “Oh Indeed Monsieur..., what exactly your name I never quite got it, sir?”

“Ah, it's Neville, Neville Longbottom.” “Well, Monsieur Longbottom are you feeling any better?” “Just a little bit, not by much..” “Well Monsieur, you are free to join me in my Classroom until you feel better and You are always welcome to come in at any time if you feel like you need to do so, especially in Moody’s Class, now come on I'll brew you some Warm Tea.”

When the Fourth Years came in Professor Trelawney´s correction- Sybill and your classroom for their Divination lesson they certainly did not expect to see you sitting on a cushion on the floor with Sybill and Neville by your sides, you sat with your veil covering your face as you poured Neville and Sybill tea and shook your head and laughed.

“Can't be a hidden Seer and have an unknown identity if I lift my one concealing item for some Tea Now can I dears”

This caused Neville to blush before getting up and getting ready start to walk to his desk but you called out and he handed you his teacup before leaning over and watched as you swirled the cup and nodded, ¨Very promising Monsieur Longbottom, Very Promising Indeed, see that? Mhm, Indeed a Butterfly, Success, and Happiness are coming in your near Future.¨

Sybill stood up and smiled at you before turning to the class ¨Good Evening everyone, Let's take a Seat Please, Now today is a very special day! Thanks to the Triwizard tournament we are having a very special guest coming to visit us from France, This is the Head Seer at Beauxbaton and A relevant Figure in the Divination field, who was one of the best accuracy rates for Seers in Europe, This Is Professor Delphi¨

You nodded your head at her before walking over and standing at the front of the class, ¨Bonjour! My Name is Professor Delphi or Delphi, I have been a Seer for as long as I've been able to walk and Have been a practicing Seer since just about your age, Today I will be giving you all free readings however I will warn you all before my word is true and clear however if you choose to acknowledge fate and fix your mistakes you may be able to change it. Now, Any Questions?¨

Multiple hands shot up and you looked around the room before nodding at the Bushy Brown haired girl who you saw in Moody´s Class earlier in the day

¨Speak up for me Madame! Thank you, Now please say your name and your question?¨¨Hermione Granger Professor, How exactly are you ´Head Seer´?” ¨Wonderful Question Madam Granger! I am head seer as I have the most accurate Sight in my district let alone France and most of Europe, in my 24 years of living, and 13 of Being a known Seer I have gotten Two Predictions wrong, two out of thousands.¨

She seemed to be distrustful but nodded along anyway ¨Next Question?¨ More hands shot up this time, You called on a Brown haired boy and he responded with a thick Irish accent.

¨Name Monsieur?” ¨Seamus Finnigan Professor, Why exactly do you have a veil? Covering on?¨ You nodded and placed your hands down on the table for support, leaning down and feeling for a chair to sit in as the boy beside him knocked into, sighing ¨Seamus! That's rude!.¨ ¨Amazing Question Monsieur Finnigan do not be afraid to ask the hard questions!¨

You paused ¨However I wear this for multiple reasons, One to hide my identity being a professional seer can be hard and sometimes dangerous, Some people refuse to accept the fate and turn their anger towards me, some have threatened to hurt my family so this helps protect my identity and my family´s as well, even the name Delphi is a cover-up name Monsieur!¨”

Which got a few curious and surprised looks from the students, you looked around the room soaking it in before allowing yourself to continue. ¨Two, I use it to hide identifying features especially with my condition, A special someone in this class found out why today but for those who don't know I am Hard of seeing in my Right eye and almost completely deaf in my left ear.¨

You paused again before clearing your throat and swiping at your eye under the veil as you feel them begin to gloss up with potential tears, ¨it was due to an attack on me during my youth and while it did help me develop my higher senses it made me extremely vulnerable Physically, That is why I do not do big trips like this however I am here to teach the youth and inspire you all to look into the divination field so it is worth it.¨

Sybill patted your arm and asked quietly if you needed a break, you shook your head before turning back to the class ¨Any more questions before we continue?¨ A few students shook their heads no, hands sinking after the big questions were asked you nodded, ¨alright Madames, Monsieurs and all others let us begin! You all have a Teacup in front of you, I want ALL of you to drink your tea and come sit with me one at a time when you are finished if you wish, I assure all of you we have a lot to talk about.¨

You nodded at all of them, wishing them all good luck before sliding fully into the chair and feeling around for the teacup that you had left to your right, you heard someone sit to your right as they pushed the teacup in front of you.

You turned and saw A Blonde girl with fluffy wavy hair smiling at you. You returned the smile under your veil and took the teacup in your hands before sliding it up under your veil to inspect it.

¨Good Evening Professor, My Name is Lavender Brown! Divination is my favorite class. I've believed in it after Professor Trelawney predicted my poor rabbit´s death and predicted Neville would break a cup and it came true!¨

You smiled at her before giving a little chuckle ¨I'm glad dear so let's inspect this together, hmm oh yes that's interesting, you are going to be in love in the near future¨ This excited the Girl before you cut her off ¨However dear, do not force the love, let it come naturally or you will taint it and sweet child be safe, you will face danger in the future, never walk alone am I clear Madame?”

She nodded before turning to you and hugging you tightly, ¨Thank you professor¨ You returned the Hug and whispered ¨I believe in you child, let your heart soar freely but be smart!” she giggled at this and ran back to her friends that began to gossip to one another.

The Next student made you smile before he even sat down you could recognize that red hair anywhere ¨Monsieur Weasley, it is a great pleasure.¨ He sent you a look before you chuckled and ushered him to sit down ¨I knew your older brother Monsieur, you could say we were close when he attended here.¨ With a smile, remembering how Handsome Bill looked the last time you saw him.

¨You knew Charlie?” You smiled before shaking your head ¨Next one dear, but let's focus on you Monsieur Weasley let see this cup of yours.¨ You picked up the Cup and swirled it ¨Oh yes, hmm indeed, I sense self-doubt, You doubt you are worthy as those around you but oh how wrong you are. I see great things for you Monsieur Weasley, oh work in the Ministry it seems, oh how loyal you always return to your family hm?¨

Ron frowned at the mention of the ministry and smiled when you praised him for his loyalty especially to family, you extended your hand to him, ¨You may love your friends and they might be ´special´ but never doubt your worth Monsieur, I sense greatness in your presence doesn't let me be wrong due to jealousy.¨ With that, you placed your hand down and bowed your head to him ¨Do not forget my words Monsieur¨

You hear someone run over before whimpering out a sigh, looking up its Neville ¨Monsieur Longbottom, what do I owe the pleasure, hmm? Now let's see this.¨ The tea swirled before it cleared, ¨Oh how marvelous, Monsieur Longbottom you sure are meant to be a Gryffindor! You have an amazing spirit and loyalty, you have confidence under all that shyness, you must let go of your worries, I see greatness and passion in your future, A leader, hmm a teacher? We will see!¨

He stuttered and pointed to himself ¨Professor? Me? But I'm not brave!” ”Oh False indeed! You just haven't unleashed it yet, you are more than a house title anyways my boy, you are a son, a friend, a student, someone who brings light into anyone's life, you make your parents proud my boy, be you!¨ You wrapped his hand in your own and bowed to him ¨My word is truth, fate has foreseen your greatness my boy don't forget that. Be brave.¨

You didn't have to look up to tell who had shuffled up to your desk, you could tell by the voice having heard the same voice talk to Ron and call said voice harry.

¨Monsieur Potter, what do I owe the pleasure hm? From what I've heard you do not believe in my craft and often lie for a good grade hm?¨ He stiffened at the jab you made before you smiled.

¨Sit sit Monsieur I know how hard Seer classes can be for non-seers, this is no easy class Monsieur however you are special in other ways and it shows, you have a great burden on your shoulders, Fate will be cruel to you but you have great friends and a family, hmm protect those around you good sir, and Monsieur tell your godfather to find me for me, the oracle needs him, Oui?”

He seems shocked at the final statement but you merely smiled to yourself and bowed your head to him which he stiffly returns before hurrying over to Ron and Hermione, ah they are friends you remark to yourself and smile at the trio as they began muttering to each other quietly as soon as he returned, Oh how fun this trip will be.

PART 3

[makoodlesarchive]

bad dragon

here i am delivering content that NO ONE ASKED FOR !! this is nasty and i got super embarrassed just writing it but i hope you enjoy it anyway

honestly no one look at me, just let me indulge in this in peace

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader

word count: 10k

warnings: blowjobs, penetrative sex, virgin kirishima, lots of cum (like, a ridiculous amount), breeding (kinda), size kink?. it’s not exactly anthro bc everyone is human here but uhh non-standard genitals, i guess? kirishima has an unusual dick: pls see here for reference      OR     check out the amazing fanart for kiri’s dick !!

Tip Jar!

  dragon dick kiri masterlist!

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Kirishima Eijirou was a perfect gentleman. He bought you flowers, he opened doors for you, he gave the sweetest goodnight kisses, he ate you out so good he had you seeing stars. You had the biggest, fattest crush on him, and you would be embarrassed about it if it weren’t for the fact that it seemed, at least for the most part, to be reciprocated.

The problem was Kirishima never let you touch him.

Whenever the two of you ended up in bed together, with the door firmly locked behind you, Kirishima insisted on sliding under the blankets and eating you out so enthusiastically he had your legs shaking in no time. It’s not like you would ever complain about that, but it definitely bothered you that he was never up for doing anything else. You would see the blanket shifting around as he jerked himself off furiously under the sheets as he tongue-fucked you, but whenever you tried to coax him out from beneath the sheets you were turned down with a soft, apologetic little smile.

You figured it must have something to do with his apparent commitment issues. Everytime you brought up the possibility of being a couple, or anything more than what you currently were (which, tragically, was nothing; just two friends occasionally getting hot and heavy) he brushed you off or changed the subject with a beautifully sunny smile and a laugh, so bright and cheery that you were successfully diverted every single time.

And it was fine, really. You liked Kirishima a lot, so you were totally willing to put up with a few odd idiosyncrasies. And okay, sure, if you were being totally honest with yourself, of course you wanted to be more than friends that flirt and kiss and mess around a bit. You couldn’t even technically call each other fuck buddies because he wouldn’t fuck you. But he was so sweet, and so handsome and kind and his tongue was so so good, that you would take whatever you could get from him. 

At least, that was until one afternoon.

April had brought with it blue skies and sun showers and warm breezes, and as the weather begins to improve your friends take to lounging out the front of the apartment complex. After graduating, renting places in the same neighbourhood just seemed like the next logical step. On days like this, where you all come together just to chill out in front of the complex, it seems like the best idea in the world. As you watch Kirishima chase Kaminari around the lawn, the two of them howling with laughter, something a little wistful twists in your stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, easy enough to shove away normally, but today for some reason you just feel… melancholy.

Maybe that’s why you do something you would never normally do. You turn to Bakugou, who’s aggressively chewing on candy as though it insulted his mother, and say, “Hey, um. Does Kirishima… does Kirishima ever talk about me?”

Bakugou’s jaw stills, and he turns his head very slowly to look at you. He looks mildly disbelieving, which is understandable. The two of you get along just fine, but you’ve never asked him anything personal before. “Why the fuck are you asking me that?” he demands through a mouthful of half-chewed toffee.

You shrug jerkily, suddenly mortified. Why are you asking something like that of Bakugou, of all people? “Never mind.” you say quickly, praying that he’ll just let it go and you can both move on and forget that you had ever asked such an embarrassing question.

A silence stretches between the two of you, long and taut, broken only by Mina giggling as she shows Sero something on her phone a few metres away. You could curse yourself for making things awkward between the two of you when you had been on relatively good terms, but then Bakugou turns to look at you so abruptly that you startle a little. “Look,” he says, jaw working absently as he chews his candy. “He likes you just fine, okay. Why aren’t you having this conversation with him, huh?”

You can’t quite meet Bakugou’s eyes. You don’t know how he can be so forthright all the time. “Um. I’ve tried, but he always changes the subject.”

Bakugou swears softly, glaring out across the lawn at Kirishima as he chases Kaminari, throwing grapes at his back. “I ain’t a relationship counsellor, okay? I get that it must be hard that he doesn’t cum when he’s with you or whatever, but you seriously need to work that out with him. What am I meant to do about it?”

“Right,” you wince, your body hot with embarrassment. Your mind sticks on something he just said though, and you turn back slowly to frown at him. “He… he doesn’t cum?”

“Hah?” Bakugou scowls at you, clearly annoyed that you’re still having this conversation. You’re not about to let up though, because you hadn’t known that.

“I-I didn’t realise that he didn’t-?” you trail off, mortified and horrified in equal measures. You had assumed all those times that he was jerking off under the sheets that he was getting himself off but just didn’t want you to see. You had never questioned the lack of mess because as soon as you were done he always left for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later with damp towels to clean you up with -- you had assumed he cleaned himself up in those moments of absence. How the fuck had you never noticed?  Why did Bakugou know when you didn’t? Oh god, had he and Kirishima talked about this?

Bakugou’s expression shifts as he apparently realises that he had just revealed something you hadn’t been aware of. “Oh.” he says, and his annoyance seems to have evaporated, only to be replaced by an intense discomfort. “Well. It’s not that big a deal, or whatever. I’m sure he still, uh, enjoys himself- fucking hell, can we stop talking about this?”

“Yeah.” you say a little numbly. You feel so stupid. Why had he never said anything to you? You had been under the assumption that he liked you back, but maybe you were totally mistaken. Maybe seeing your naked body turned him off to the point that he couldn’t actually cum even if hidden under the sheets and not looking at you. Maybe he never actually wanted to do any of that with you in the first place. There’s a stinging pressure building in the back of your eyes, and you have to look down at your lap and blink hard to stop yourself from doing something stupid like bursting into tears in front of Bakgou -- you don’t think either of you would live that down. “Uh. I think I’m gonna head up to my room, I’m really tired.”

Bakugou’s eyes widened a little, “Wait, are you-”

“I’ll see you later,” you smile and try to keep your voice as normal as possible, but even you can hear how forced you sound. You stand quickly and brush yourself off before heading back inside; you have to consciously slow your pace so that it doesn’t look like you’re running away, because you really don’t put it past Bakugou not to chase you down for cutting him off like that.

You bump into Jirou on the stairs and babble out an apology, escaping back upstairs to your apartment before she can ask you if you’re okay. The last thing you need is an audience for your imminent breakdown, but thankfully you don’t see a single other person on the way to your place. You shut the door to your room tight and lean your forehead against it to take a deep breath. It doesn’t do much to calm you down, so you turn and make a beeline straight for the bed. Throwing yourself dramatically on top of your bed covers feels a little cathartic, so you allow yourself the luxury of being dramatic as you bury your face into your arms and sigh. 

God, you wish Kirishima would have just talked to you instead of grinning that stupidly bright smile of his and changing the subject anytime you tried to talk or ask about the thing the two of you had together. At least then you would have been able to deal with any upset that may have been caused by that conversation by yourself, and you wouldn’t have had to get all upset in front of one of Kirishima’s best friends. God, how were you ever gonna look at Bakugou again?

You know that stewing by yourself like this isn’t going to help sort this situation out, but you just can’t find the energy to start thinking about what you’re going to do next. You don’t want to start thinking about that at all. You just need some time to yourself, just a little while to relax and breathe and just not think because if you start thinking you’re pretty sure you’re going to cry. You feel impossibly stupid.

When you hear a knock coming from the door, you want to bang your head off the wall. You can’t imagine anything worse than having to talk to someone and pretend that everything is fine right now.

“Y/N? Hey, is everything alright? Bakugou said you ran off.”

Aw, shit. Maybe you can imagine something worse.

You sit up sharply, staring at the door. This was so typical. Of all the people in the building, Kirishima is the last person you want to talk to right now. So of course it stands to reason that he would be the one to follow you straight to your apartment. “Everything’s fine,” you call back quickly, trying hard to sound like you meant it, “Hey, I’m just tired right now. Can we talk later?”

“Bakugou said you were upset.”

That traitor. You clench your jaw and scowl at the wall. “I’m-”

“I’m coming in, okay?”

“Wha-?” you stand up quickly, but Kirishima is already coming in and closing the door behind him. “Kirishima, I don’t-”

“Okay look, Bakugou said you were upset with me and I’m really, really sorry,” Kirishima blurts quickly, hands up in the air as if he’s being held at gunpoint, “He’s actually pretty annoyed at me right now, but he’s right, and-”

“I’m not-” you start, then pause to gather your thoughts. Bakugou was right, especially when he said you had to talk. And it was important this time that you didn’t let Kirishima divert you like he had been doing. “It’s not that I’m upset with you. Not really. I just- what are we even doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, so softly that it’s almost a whisper.

“I-” you swallow hard, brace yourself, “I really like you. I like spending time with you, and I’ve told you, or at least tried to, that I’d really like to, well, be- um, be more than whatever this is. And obviously I would totally get if you don’t want that, a relationship and stuff, but I want you to just tell me! Just say it, instead of changing the subject.”

“Wait, baby, please.” Kirishima steps forward quickly and stops just short of touching you, a bare few inches between you. “I like you so much, I never wanted you to feel this way. I just- it’s difficult to explain-”

“Do you...” you start to say, then sigh. You can’t believe you’re actually going to ask this, because it makes you sound so desperate, but you really need to hear him say it, “Do you not find me attractive?”

Kirishima makes a startled choking sound, “Wha-? Are you kidding? I find you so attractive! You’re so pretty, and your body is- is really nice, why would you think-”

“You never look at me when we’re in bed and-” you start fidgeting, horribly awkward. “I just want to be able to touch you.”

Kirishima steps forward, closing the distance between you and dropping to one knee. “Baby, I’ll do whatever you want,” he says, his hands coming to rest on your hips as his thumbs stroke circles into your skin. “You want me to touch you?”

“No.” you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration, realising that he had misunderstood. “I mean. Bakugou told me that you never cum when we’re together.”

When you open your eyes again, you see that Kirishima has gone stock still. His mouth is a little open, and you can see his throat working as he seems to fight for something to say. Very slowly, he gets back to his feet. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

You stare at him, at a loss. “Is it because-” you start, then trail off as you realise that you don’t even know what you’re trying to ask. You just want him to start talking so that you can stop asking all these stupid questions. “If you don’t want to have sex with me, you only have to say so, I would never pressure you into-”

“No!” Kirishima blurts, jolting forward. The suddenness of the movement seems to startle the both of you, but Kirishima recovers faster. “God, no, that’s not what this is!”

“Then, why?” you whisper, thoroughly confused. You had hoped that talking it out would help get some answers, but if anything you’re even more confused and insecure than you had been before he came to your room. “Did I- I mean, if I’m doing something that’s-”

“It’s not you.” Kirishima interrupts, covering his eyes with one of his large palms and leaning away from you. His hand is trembling a little, almost imperceptibly. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

The statement hangs in the air between the two of you like it’s a tangible presence. You stare hard at Kirishima, but he doesn’t remove his hand from his face. He looks a bit like he’s going to be sick. “What do you mean?” you ask quietly.

You’re guessing that this is where you get the ‘You’re great and all but I’m just not ready for a relationship. It’s got nothing to do with you though, I need to work through my own stuff’ sort of speech, and you have to brace yourself for it. Instead, Kirishima says something that you had not prepared yourself to hear in the slightest.

“I’m sorry.” you say, a little bewildered. You’re certain that you heard that wrong. “Could you- could you say that again?”

A flush has begun to crawl steadily across Kirishima’s face, made all the more prominent by the contrast of his hand pressed to his eyes. His ears are so red that they blend right into his hair. “I said,” he says, then takes an inhale, “That you’ll break up with me if you see my dick.”

You don’t actually know how to begin replying to that. For one, breaking up would require you to be in a relationship, which is something that he has been avoiding for a while now. You decide to address the bigger problem first. “Why would I want to break up because of your dick? Why would you even think that? Do you think I’m that shallow?”

“It’s got nothing to do with you being shallow,” Kirishima says slowly. You get the impression that he’s measuring his words, and his uncharacteristic reticence has you on edge. “It’s just that- I’m not, well, normal.”

You stare at him, a little taken aback. Kirishima had always had some issues with self-confidence, ever since middle school, but you’d always thought he’d worked through that in UA. You had never heard him talk about himself like this. “What’s that supposed to mean? Eijirou, lots of people are self-conscious about what they have going on downstairs. It doesn’t mean-”

“No, you don’t get it,” he interrupts. His hands have started twisting up the hem of his shirt, wringing it out and wrinkling the material. He’s frowning, and clearly starting to get agitated. “It’s not that I’m self-conscious about it- well, I am self-conscious about it, I guess, but it’s for a reason! I mean it, it’s not exactly… standard.”

Your face scrunches up in a frown before you can stop it. Not standard? “You’re worried it’s too small?” You guess. Your gaze drops to the crotch of his pants, where he’s subconsciously folded his hands. “Too big?”

“Um.” Kirishima lets out a nervous little laugh, several octaves higher than normal. “Yeah, I guess. It’s… it looks weird.”

“Eijirou,” your voice is soft now, most of your frustration melted away by the sight of Kirishima’s anxious fidgeting, “We live in a world where physical mutations are the norm; you really don’t have anything to worry about.” You pause for a moment, but Kirishima doesn’t respond immediately. The silence builds, until you try to break it with a light-hearted, “How weird can it be, really?”

Kirishima’s throat works as he swallows hard, but he’s nodding so you at least know that he’s listening. When he does speak, his voice is so low that you have to lean closer to him to catch what he’s saying. “I just don’t want to ruin this.”

Your heart twists, and the last of your frustration straight up disappears. You take a breath to steady yourself, then step forward and place your hands gently on his chest. A tremor works its way up his spine at your touch, but you don’t remark on it. “Kirishima.” you say firmly, and when he looks up and makes eye contact you try to keep your gaze as strict as possible. “You really have no idea how much I like you, do you? God, I like you so much, it’s stupid. I’ve wanted to be with you for so long. I mean, even if you never wanted to have sex I would understand, so long as you talked to me about it. Your dick is not gonna stop me from liking you, idiot.”

The fear of rejection is still plain to see on Kirishima’s face, but there’s something lurking just underneath that looks like hope. “I’ve never… I’ve never been with anyone like that.”

“You haven’t?” you ask, genuinely surprised. Not only is Kirishima perfectly sweet, he’s also extremely attractive. As an up-and-coming sidekick in Fatgum’s hero agency, you knew that he had no shortage of admirers. Even before that, in UA, you knew there were always people who had their eyes on him. He was so bright, he was hard to miss. 

He laughs, scrubbing at his eyes with his knuckles. “Uh, no. I mean, I’m not totally inexperienced. I mean, I’ve done oral and stuff, and I think I’m actually pretty good at it-”

“You are definitely pretty good at it,” you chime in, nodding and trying not to laugh at the flush crawling up his neck.

“I enjoy it, too!” he says quickly, as though trying to reassure you, “I enjoy it a lot. But I’ve never- I mean, no one’s ever touched me like that.” You feel your mouth drop open in honest shock. A little part of you couldn’t help but feel reassured that it wasn’t you he had a problem with, but that was mostly drowned out by surprise. Kirishima rushes on before you can speak, as though trying to say his piece before he runs out of steam, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that it’s never seemed worth the fallout. Especially with you. I’m happy with being with you in whatever way I can, and I don’t want my stupid dick to scare you off or-”

“Oh my god, Kirishima, stop,” you say, and this time you really can’t hold back your laugh. “Your stupid dick isn’t going to scare me off. God, I can’t believe this is why you never let me touch you.” you step closer and press a soft, close-mouthed kiss to his lips. You hadn’t realised just how tense Kirishima was until he relaxed a little into your touch, the stiffness in his shoulders easing out as he sighed into the kiss. You pull back just a little, just enough that you can give him a cheeky smile. “Want me to give you your first blowjob?”

Kirishima’s whole body tenses right back up as his eyes shoot wide in surprise. “What?” he squeaks out, his ears turning scarlet.

You take his hand in yours and tangle your fingers together, before tugging him gently towards the bed. “I want to,” you assure him quietly, “No matter what your dick looks like, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Kirishima says as he sits at the edge of the bed. He’s breathing a little faster now, either from excitement or nerves. You’re guessing it’s a bit of both, because he’s clinging on tight to your hand even though he looks like he’s about to bolt. When you hook your fingers around the waistband of his shorts, he catches one of your wrists with his free hand. “If you- you know, if you change your mind after seeing it, just know that I won’t be mad or anything.”

He’s so quiet and earnest that you feel your heart melt a little looking at his nervously hopeful eyes. You take your hand back and climb onto his lap, pushing your fingers into his wild mop of hair. It’s the first time you’ve ever been close with him like this -- usually he would give you a sweet, gentle kiss and then dive between your legs, always keeping a frustrating amount of distance between your lower halves. This time though, he doesn’t try to divert you away. His hands grip your hips tight, and he leans his head into your touch. “I wish you would stop expecting me to push you away.” you murmur into the side of his neck, peppering little kisses into his skin. Kirishima lets out the smallest, choked off sounding whine at that, and tilts his head so that the long line of his throat is exposed. You take the hint, and start trailing kisses all along the soft skin at the base of his neck. “I told you, and I meant it; I want to be with you.”

Strong arms wind their way around your back and pull you close until you’re sat right over Kirishima’s crotch. You don’t even think it was intentional on Kirishima’s part, but you won’t pass up the opportunity when it presents itself to you. His shorts are bulging a little right in the centre where he’s starting to get hard, and you lower yourself down so that you’re grinding over him. He gasps at the contact, and his hips jerk up into you. “Oh, shit. I want you, so badly.” he gasps, his forehead dropping down to rest on your shoulder.

You have to admit, what you can feel through his shorts is… intimidating. ‘Yeah, I guess,’ he had said when you asked him if he was worried about his dick being too big. Judging by what you could feel pressing against you, that was a massive understatement, and he was only half-hard. You ghost your hands down over his sides, feeling his ribs expand with his breaths, sliding down until your hands reach the waistband of his shorts again. You push them down over his hips, and he lifts himself up to help you, and then he’s just in his impressively tented jockstrap. You smile reassuringly at him as you tug down the jockstrap, and then his cock springs free of the waistband and you pause.

“Oh.” you breathe.

“I know that it’s-” Kirishima begins to visibly panic, his hand reflexively shooting down to try and cover himself as he tries to sit up.

“It’s okay.” you say quickly, recovering from your surprise as quickly as possible. You still feel a little off-kilter as you slide off his lap to your knees in front of him. You know that you’re staring at his cock wide-eyed, but you can’t quite help yourself. It’s… well. It’s definitely not standard.

You reach out, your hand hovering uncertainly over his cock because you barely know how to begin. It’s thicker than a soda can, and long. Delicate ridges and swirls decorate the underside, with a series of bumps along the top. When you finally do grasp him in your hand, you’re rewarded with a barely stifled gasp and a hot spurt of precum that dribbles down his cockhead to your fingers. You use both your hands to explore his length, fingers trailing over all those strange ridges. The bumps along the top are apparently sensitive, because when you rub your thumbs over them Kirishima gasps and his hips thrust gracelessly into the air.

“Sorry!” he blurts as his cock dribbles even more precum. There’s so much of it that it looks like you actually used lube or something to slick up his cock, but you guess that this must be normal for him because he just looks embarrassed. “I- it’s sensitive, I guess, um- I usually put down a towel, because I tend to get, uh, messy.”

The way he says that and the connotations of it has your thighs squeezing together, and you take a deep inhale through your nose. It’s unexpectedly hot. “Gotcha.” you smile at him, trying to put him at ease as you return your attention back to his dick. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind if you make a mess.”

“Oh, shit. Uh, okay.” Kirishima says, and his breathing has gotten noticeably heavier now. He’s almost panting as he leans back on his elbows, craning his neck so he can get a look at what you’re doing. There’s a curious swell around the base of his cock that just seems to be growing. One of your hands travels down to it curiously, splaying over it and then rubbing it at it experimentally. His hips rock forward sharply, a huff of breath leaving him as he grunts a muted, “Fuck!”

The precum is oozing almost continuously now, spilling over with nearly every stroke, and your rubbing at the swollen base seems to be pushing even more out. It’s obscene, the copious amount of it and the way it’s stringing down onto your hands. If this is the amount of precum he produces, you can hardly imagine the amount of cum he’s going to produce. You wonder if ‘messy’ is another understatement.

You finally lean forward and lick an experimental stripe up the underside of his cock, lapping at the ridges and swirls. The moan that’s ripped out of him is needy and so desperate -- his stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he’s putting in to keep from rocking into your mouth, but his cheeks are flushed and his own mouth is lolling open, his eyes squeezed shut. You take that as your cue to take all of him in your mouth as best as you can, suckling at the tip before swallowing him down. You get about halfway before you have to pull back and try again. Your mouth is stretched obscenely wide around the girth of him, and you swear you can feel the weight of his dick pulsing on your tongue.

“Oh god, oh baby, oh Y/N,” Kirishima is babbling nonsensically, his head thrown as his hips make the sweetest little aborted rocking motions, like he wants nothing more than to let go but is trying his best to restrain himself for your sake. “Feels so good.”

You suck him as best as you can, but your jaw is starting to ache from being hinged so wide. You alternate between stroking his length and suckling on the head of his dick, tracing the swirls and squeezing the bottom. The swell at the base of his cock has engorged even further, and you prod at it curiously with one hand as you work his length with the other. It’s firm but oddly spongey, and everytime you poke at it Kirishima’s whole cock twitches.

When he gasps out your name you pull back and look up at him. He’s trembling, his shirt rucked up past his bellybutton and his gaze fixed unwaveringly on you. “You okay?” you ask softly, rubbing your thumb along one of the ridges under the head of his dick.

“Yeah,” he breathes, reaching down to cup your face. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, and you realise that a string of saliva and precum is dripping down your chin. “But if you keep going I’m gonna cum.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?” you laugh, and press a kiss right on his slit. His hips twitch and you dodge backwards just in time to avoid him taking your eye out with his hard on. 

“Sorry!” he looks mortified, and you can’t help but find his nervous fumbling absolutely adorable.

“Don’t worry about it.” you smile as you kiss your way down his shaft, prepared now for the intermittent jerking of his hips. You get to that swollen part at the base and place your mouth right at the bottom of his cock, before wrapping your lips around it to the best of your ability and sucking.

You had guessed that this swollen area was sensitive thanks to his reactions earlier, but you’re not quite prepared for the shout he lets out or the way his hand grabs onto the side of your head as he damn near rides your mouth. You’re totally startled by the reaction, but given the amount of times that you’ve done the same to his mouth you’re only too happy to indulge him. Plus, it’s the first time you’ve ever seen Kirishima fall apart like this. His cock is dribbling precum at a rapid rate the more excited he gets, and thick strings of it are pouring onto your cheeks. You think you should probably feel a little grossed out, but seeing Kirishima open-mouthed and panting as he rides your face like he’s hasn’t got a single other thought in his mind has you so turned on that your panties are getting sticky and uncomfortable between your legs. You stick your own hand between your legs to try and relieve yourself of some of the heat coiling up in your stomach, but the way that Kirishima’s rutting into your face throws off your coordination.

“Oh god, please, baby, please, put it back in your mouth, I’m gonna- fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum, please-” He begs, his head thrown back as he gasps.

How could you ever deny him when he pleads like that? You pull your head out of his grasp and sink your mouth back down on his cock, and then you just hold there and breathe as steadily as you can as Kirishima’s cock throbs in your mouth. His hips spasm, pushing his cock further into your throat. It almost feels like he’s getting bigger, as if he’s growing down your throat.

Kirishima is still babbling, a steady stream of senselessness about how good you’re making him feel, how beautiful you are, how lucky he is, until he cuts himself off with a gasp of “Baby, I’m- I’m-” and then he’s silent, his mouth hanging open as his whole body strains.

You try to suck him through his orgasm, but you are utterly unprepared for the sheer quantity of cum that erupts from his dick. Despite your intentions, you have no choice but to pull off his cock, choking a little on the cum that actually managed to get up your nose. You stroke him through it, feeling dazed as you watch him cum. You know it’s dripping from your chin, running in rivulets down your face. You wonder if it’s coming out your nose.

Kirishima seems to come forever, humping into your fist and whining and moaning the whole time. When his cock finally gives its last, exhausted spurt, his body falls limp against the bed. He’s gasping for breath and staring at the ceiling, looking like his soul had been ejected from his body along with the insane amount of cum. You notice the swollen part at the base of his cock has deflated almost entirely, to the point that it’s hardly noticeable anymore.

You climb up on the bed beside him and nudge him with your knee, a little concerned. “Eijirou? You good?”

When he looks at you, there’s a goofy smile splitting his face. “I have never been so good in my whole life.” His smile freezes as he catches a proper look at your face, caught between surprise, embarrassment, and something else. He reaches out to your face and swipes his fingers through the mess on your face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be!” you hasten to assure him, squeezing his wrists. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Kirishima stares at you as though he almost doesn’t believe you, but his cum is painted across your face and dripping down your chest, so he’s not in the best position to argue. “I told you I tend to get messy.” he breathes out a laugh, and then leans forward to kiss you, apparently not caring about the taste of his own ejaculate.

You hum into his mouth, your thighs clenching in excitement. “Eijirou,” you whisper into the kiss. When he pulls back, you bite your lip and smile at him, “Next time, will you fuck me?”

Kirishima inhales sharply, and his grip on your hips tightens to the point that the pressure is near bruising. “You really want that?”

“God, yes.” you blurt, shifting so that you’re straddling his stomach. You lower yourself down so that you’re grinding against his bare skin, and you can see the exact moment that he realises you’ve soaked through your panties.

He groans, and pulls at your hips to encourage you to grind against his stomach harder. “Shit, sweetheart. You don’t think it’s… kind of gross?”

“I didn’t expect the amount of cum,” you confess, wiping at your face with a helpless laugh, “But no, I don’t think it’s gross. I like it.” You whimper as Kirishima’s thumb slides over your swollen clit, the glide made smooth thanks to the slickness of your own arousal.

Kirishima is looking up at you as though you had hung the moon, and it’s hard not to get a little embarrassed under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay,” he whispers, “If you’re sure.” He glances down with a small frown, his lips twisted thoughtfully, “I don’t want to hurt you, though.”

“You won’t.” you kiss his nose, grinning as it wrinkles up under your lips. “We’ll make sure I’m stretched.” you glance over your shoulder at his still wet, softening cock. Even now, the size of it is intimidating. “And lube,” you conclude, “We’ll use lots and lots of lube.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, a smile starting to light up his face. He presses a sloppy kiss to the base of your throat, and you can feel the smile against your skin, “Yeah, okay. I’d really like that.” There’s still cum everywhere, all over your hands and chest and face and splashed across Kirishima’s legs and stomach, but he doesn’t seem to care about the mess in the slightest as he rolls the two of you over so that he’s hovering over you. The kiss he presses to one of your breasts is impossibly soft, and you tilt your head back and sigh as you feel his fingers trace over the lips of your pussy. “I’m so lucky to have you.” he whispers, then pushes himself down your body.

As his tongue flicks over your clit, you smile. It’s definitely you that’s the lucky one here.

_________________________

Kirishima’s complicated relationship with his genitalia had started in middle school. Up until that point, he had managed to remain blissfully unaware that there was any kind of abnormality in his nether regions. That changed one day in the locker rooms.

Having never paid any particular attention to what he had in his pants, Kirishima hadn’t thought anything of changing out with the rest of the boys in his class, as unabashed as any middle-schooler that hadn’t developed a sense of self-consciousness yet. He didn’t notice the whispers or stares until one of his friends nudged him hard. “Dude,” he said, glancing between Kirishima’s legs and then away, curiosity and mild revulsion mingled on his face, “What’s wrong with your thingy?”

“Wrong?” Kirishima had echoed, discomfort beginning to prickle beneath his skin. He hadn’t realised there was anything wrong with his genitals. He covered up quickly and finished getting changed, but the stares lingered.

No one said anything more about it to him, but by the end of the day rumour had spread that Kirishima was weird down there.

He had, like so many boys his age, taken to the internet to do his own research. It felt like a punch to the gut when he realised that his classmates were right -- his dick looked nothing like the dicks that all the guys in the videos he found had. There were exceptions, where the person’s genitals were affected by their quirk, but they were always full-body quirks that made it pretty obvious that what you were gonna find down below would be non-standard. His genitals didn’t match his body or his quirk, so his classmates must be right when they say that he’s weird with those grossed-out little laughs.

He learned pretty quickly to keep that part of him to himself, to change out quickly and efficiently in such a way that no one would ever see the parts of him that he’d rather keep hidden. He welcomes physical contact because he’s still an affectionate guy, but he’s always careful about the distance he allows between himself and others just in case they brush up against him accidentally and somehow feel that he’s different. When the boys in his class start excitedly talking about girls and other boys, and how nice it’d be to have a girlfriend or boyfriend, Kirishima tries to stay out of it. He doesn’t want to wonder about something like that when he knows that if someone were to find out his secret they’d be totally grossed out.

High school comes hand in hand with experimentation though, and Kirishima is lonely and touch-starved. He doesn’t want to avoid touch for the rest of his life out of fear that someone’s going to know. So he allows himself to indulge a little; he’s popular with girls in UA, a fact that surprises him. Unlike the girls in middle school, they haven’t heard the rumours that there’s something wrong with him, so they smile and chat to him and even flirt. It’s exciting and new and he allows himself to have just this -- he kisses them and he makes them feel good, and then he retreats when they look for more because he just can’t give it to them. 

When he tells you all this, you could swear that you feel your heart crack right down the middle. You hadn’t realised how lonely Kirishima was, wrapped up in a self-constructed blanket of self-loathing and disgust. You knew it had taken a lot of trust for him to open up to you like he had, but you hadn’t realised just how much. It makes your chest fill with some undefinable emotion, and you just want to hold him and never let go. 

You’re more determined than ever now to show him exactly how much you care about him, and exactly how much any physical anomaly doesn’t affect the way you feel in the slightest. You’ve been stretching yourself methodically and carefully every night of the week that has passed since you gave him his first blowjob in preparation to finally have sex with him. You just want him to feel good, and you don’t want him to worry about hurting you. And now, tonight, you’ve decided that you’re ready for it.

Bakugou’s the one that answers the door when you knock at their shared apartment, and his face does something funny when he sees you. He lets you in without a greeting, and yells for Kirishima as you shut the door behind you. It’s definitely a little awkward, because your last proper conversation was that day when he told you that your now boyfriend didn’t get off when you were together, but you smile and ask him how he’s doing all the same.

He just grunts at you and sprawls out on the couch, his attention fixed on his phone. You don’t try to make any further conversation, because you figure he probably won’t respond and you can hear Kirishima crashing around further down the hall anyway. You’re about to slip down the hall towards Kirishima’s room when Bakugou speaks again, surprising you. “You talked.”

You pause, confused for half a moment before the memories of your last conversation come flooding back. “Oh. Uh, yeah, we did.” 

Bakugou nods, still staring at his phone. You hover uncertainly, unsure of whether you should continue to Kirishima’s room or if Bakugou had something else he wanted to say. You don’t have to wait long; Bakugou puts his phone down and turns to survey you closely. “If you’re still here, then I guess you didn’t freak out.”

“There’s nothing to freak out over.” you say defensively, thinking of how sensitive Kirishima is about his body.

“I never said there was!” Bakugou snaps back instantly. You both glare at each other, but you don’t respond further. You came here for one reason, and that reason was not to start a fight with Bakugou when your boyfriend was waiting for you in the bedroom. When Bakugou speaks again, it’s with an awkward edge to his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t be an asshole to him.”

You realise that Bakugou is just trying to look out for his friend, and the revelation that you’re receiving Bakugou’s awkward attempt at a shovel talk is enough to have you reeling. “As if I would be,” you say, “I really like him.”

“Good. Fine.” Bakugou picks his phone back up and you take that as a dismissal. You’re just about to leave when he says, “By the way, keep it the fuck down. I don’t care if you’re taking dragon dick or if it’s Shitty Hair’s first time getting his dick wet, I don’t need to hear that nasty shit.”

His crudeness has you flushing hot with embarrassment, but you don’t dignify him with a response. You slip down the hall and up to Kirishima’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door before letting yourself in.

Kirishima is in the process of trying to stuff a pile of clothes into the bottom of his wardrobe, and he slams the door shut and whirls around when he hears you come in. “Hey!” he beams at you, trying to kick aside the pair of underwear that’s stuck in the edge of the wardrobe door.

“Hey, you.” you greet him. You’re still a bit flustered from Bakugou’s comment, but you hide it as best as you can as Kirishima sweeps you up in his arms and pulls you into a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

In the week since you blew him the first time, the two of you have alternated between your apartments and spent almost every single day together. Some days you just touched each other with your hands, other days you used your mouths on each other. You still hadn’t gotten fully used to his enormous loads of cum, but he seems at least to be getting more and more comfortable with your touch. Even now, his hands trail up your sides as he presses eagerly into you; this boldness would have been unheard of coming from him only a week ago, but neither of you are under any illusions about what the two of you are going to get up to this evening.

You wind your arms around his neck and melt into the kiss, relishing the contact and the wet slide of his lips against yours. As his hands trail from your hips to your lower back to your ass, you feel the hard press of his lower abdomen nudge against you. You pull back and grin at him, “Someone’s impatient.”

Kirishima flushes, but he doesn’t pull away or deny it. Progress. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” he confesses quietly, reaching up to nudge a flyaway tuft of hair out of your eyes.

“Yeah?” you grin, delighting in his openness. You take a small step back and look down at where his bulge is tenting the front of his sweatpants. “How long have you been like this, baby?”

“Pretty much since you texted me telling me you were thinking of coming over.” he says with a cheeky little smile, nudging his face into your neck and nipping at the skin there. “So, an hour and a half? Give or take.”

You hum as you cup his hardness through the cotton of his joggers. He groans and his hips jerk into your palm, as sensitive as ever. “Hey,” you murmur, “Wanna fuck me?”

Kirishima’s whole body twitches at that, and you swear you can feel his cock jump in his hand. “Now?” he asks, his voice gone a little hoarse from surprise and arousal.

“Unless you’d like to wait?”

“No! Now is good!” Kirishima says hastily, reaching out to hold your hips as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear. “God, now is so good.”

It’s really hard to hold back your laugh as you watch him scramble towards the bed, tugging you along with him. He’s excited, that much is obvious, and you really can’t blame him -- he’s gone so long thinking that he would never get to have this, that he would never be accepted like this. You want to give him everything.

His hands start fidgeting with the sheets as soon as he sits back on the bed. You straddle his lap and take his hands in yours before leaning in for a kiss, hoping to distract him from any nerves or self-doubts before they can take a hold of him. He hums happily into your mouth, squeezing one of your hands in his and using the other one to wrap around your waist and pull you closer.

“I’ve thought about sex with you so many times,” you admit when you pull away from the kiss. You reach up and stroke a line down the bridge of his nose, then push back a lock of his hair; it’s freshly washed and ungelled, lying fluffy and loose around his face. He’s looking up at you like you just hung the moon, open-mouthed and soft-eyed. It’s such a sweet look on him, and you love watching it contort into pleasure as you sink down to rub yourself against his hard on. “I want you to feel good.”

Kirishima makes a choked off whining sound in his throat as he grinds up into you. “You always make me feel good.” he says. You can feel his cock thickening and filling out against you, and judging by how clearly you can feel him, he’s foregone the usual jockstrap or protective cup he uses to try and hide his shape in his pants. 

You reach down and pull at his sweatpants -- you manage to get one leg off entirely, but the other gets stuck halfway down his left thigh and you’re too impatient to keep pulling at it so you just abandon it in favour of reaching for Kirishima’s now exposed cock. You’ve gotten familiar with the thick ridges and bumps of it over the past week, familiar enough for your fingers to seek out his sensitive spots without even looking.

He moans as you touch him, and dips his hands into your pants so that he can squeeze at your ass. His grip is a little too hard, bordering on painful as he bites at your neck. He pops open the button on your pants and shoves one of his hands into your panties, rubbing at your clit with his thumb and trailing his other fingers along your slit. 

You rub at the bumps along the tip of his cock, and you’re rewarded with a little squirt of precum. It dribbles down your hand and onto the sheets, and you wonder if maybe you should put down some towels to try and keep the mess contained. But Kirishima is letting out the softest little moans as he tries to rut into your hand and rub at your clit at the same time, and you decide that ruining the moment to lay down towels just isn’t worth it. A little mess is a small sacrifice to make.

When his fingers finally dip inside you, you feel his whole body tense up and still. “Baby,” he says, his voice soft and a little stunned, “You..”

“I stretched myself out before I came over,” you finish for him, pushing your hips back so that his fingers sink all the way inside of you. The lube still inside of you makes the slide effortless, and the look on Kirishima’s face is absolutely priceless. “I’m ready when you are.”

Those words elicit another little spurt of precum as Kirishima’s cock twitches in your hand. When you glance down, you see that the base of his dick is engorged and painful looking, and it only seems to be swelling. You only get to look for a moment though, because then you’re being flipped on your back and Kirishima is looming over you. “Oh, baby, oh shit,” he grits out through clenched teeth as his cock rubs up against the back of your thighs. “Are you sure you want to?”

“I want to, I want to so bad,” you promise him, kissing where you can reach on his face. You reach down and grip his cock, guiding it to your entrance, “Go slow, baby.” You’re so excited when you first feel the tip of his cock press into you that you’re not sure if the gush of wetness is from your pussy or his precum. You’re so turned on that you wonder if the amount of lube you had used was overkill, but then the length of him starts to stretch you out and you decide that yes, you absolutely did need that lube.

As soon as the tip is in, Kirishima stills over you. His head drops down, forehead making contact with your shoulder as he groans. You rock your hips experimentally, your breathing gone a little ragged as you realise that you can feel all those fleshy bumps and ridges, but Kirishima snatches at your hips instantly to still you. When he speaks, his voice is strained, “I’m not gonna last.”

Affection bubbles up in your chest as you look at his flushed face, his misty eyes. He’s practically trembling from the effort of holding back. “It’s okay,” you assure him, looping your arms over his shoulders and tracing little patterns into the skin of his back, “You don’t have to, it’s your first time. We have all the time in the world to go again and again, as many times as you want.”

Kirishima makes a garbled little noise in the back of his throat, and then he’s kissing you so sloppily and enthusiastically that drool begins to slip down your chins. It’s a little gross, but considering how much cum you’re going to be covered in soon enough you can’t be too fussy. When he pulls back, it’s so that he can look down and watch where his cock is entering you in increments.

The slow, inexorable stretch of it has your breath catching in your throat. You throw your head back on the bed and focus on keeping your breathing as steady as possible as he presses into you so, so slowly. After exploring the length of him with your mouth and hands, you knew he was big, but apparently knowing and feeling are two completely separate things. You feel like you’re being stretched impossibly wide, and when you glance down you see that he’s not even halfway in. 

Kirishima pauses suddenly, his breathing coming in short pants. You think that he’s just taking a moment to collect himself, to pace himself, but he’s frowning down at where the two of you are connected. “I dont- I don’t think I’ll fit.”

“Oh, you’ll fit.” you declare, jaw set stubbornly. His dick was already partly in you, and like hell were you giving up now. “Don’t worry. Keep going, Eiji.”

“You’re so…” he groans as he edges his hips forward, rocking his cock another inch inside of you, “So tight, you feel so wet and warm inside, oh god, so good, so good.”

The stretch is starting to sting, but you’ve prepared yourself well for this and it’s not so bad that you can’t breathe through it. When he bottoms out inside you, the tip of his cock hits your cervix and your whole body jerks hard at the dull ache it sends up your spine. “Fuck!” you cry out, your hips humping back into Kirishima’s of their own accord. You can feel every damn ridge and swirl grinding against your insides, and you clamp down hard around him, gasping. “Oh, shit.”

You’ve never felt so full in your life, and Kirishima’s cock doesn’t even fit all the way inside you. You wonder if you’re about to split in two. Your thighs are splayed obscenely wide, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely. Your chest is heaving as you pant for breath -- your thoughts have turned a little muddy, but even now you can see that Kirishima has frozen, his face tucked into your neck as he shudders with deep, panting breaths. Your shoulder feels wet, and you realise that he’s drooling on you.

“Eijirou,” you groan, “Move.”

His first thrust is hesitant, exploratory. He apparently likes what he feels, because he lifts his head up so that he can look at you properly. He looks totally blissed out, his eyes a little unfocused, and his expression alone shoots a bolt of heat straight between your legs. You breathe out a curse and move your hips down and into him, trying to encourage him to fuck you properly. When he thrusts forward again, the movement is accompanied by a vulgar squelching sound, and you realise that you’re probably being filled up with his precum. The thought makes you moan quietly, tightening up around him. 

Kirishima grunts and dives down so that your chests are pressed together, his arms pushing your legs up and to the side, and then suddenly he’s fucking into you for real. His moans sound like they’ve come straight out of a porn video as he shoves his cock as deep inside you as possible before pulling out and doing it again. All you can do is gasp against him as the breath is driven straight out of your lungs by his desperate humping.

His movements are nearly feral, jackhammering into you at a pace that probably should feel punishing but instead has you hiccuping out moans on every stroke. The size of him and the speed at which he’s fucking at you is overwhelming in the best possible way. He keeps gasping your name in between moans, his jaw lolling open as he pants for breath. “Oh, baby girl, you feel so good, so good for me. You like this?”

“Yes!” you wheeze, clinging to his shoulders as he rails you into the mattress. It’s better than you ever could have hoped for, and you’re nearly sobbing from the sheer sensation of it all. “Oh god, don’t stop!” You feel your abdomen drawing tight, heat beginning to build rapidly in the bottom of your belly, and you practically throw yourself down to meet his thrusts. “Please, I’m gonna cum, make me cum, Eiji!”

Kirishima practically snarls at that, his hand snaking down to your pussy even as he keeps rutting into you. His hand finds your clit and starts stroking at it hard and fast at a pace that matches his fucking. “Fuck yes, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

You know you’re starting to shake apart, his cock and his fingers too much for you. Your body is strung taut, your orgasm so close you can virtually taste it. As he feels you clamp down around him Kirishima lets out a whimpering moan, and with that you’re totally gone, head slamming back on the bed as you let out mindless, breathless little choking moans. It feels like your vision totally wipes out as you convulse in Kirishima’s arms, hips twitching wildly. 

When the euphoria of your orgasm finally subsides, you feel so totally fucked out that you hardly know which way is up. It takes you a moment to become aware of the way Kirishima is humping into you desperately now, hunkering over you and groaning. Feeling his cock slide in and out of your over-sensitive and still twitching pussy is almost too much, and you know you won’t be able to take much more of his relentless pounding. You clench around him as tight as you can and cup his sweaty face in your hands, smiling at the open-mouthed look of pure need he’s giving you. “Are you gonna cum inside me, Eiji?”

Apparently that was the correct thing to say, because you can see the moment that he hurtles completely over the edge. He shoves his cock as deep as he can get inside you and then he’s crying out as he begins to empty himself inside you. He keeps rocking, even though his cock is crammed as far into you as it’s possible to get, and you tremble and gasp as you feel his cum spraying inside you. It feels totally filthy, and there’s so much of it that you can feel it leaking out and down your ass even though Kirishima’s cock is still plugging you up. There’s so much cum that you actually start to wonder if your birth control is going to still be effective. You almost expect it to start coming out of your ears.

It seems like he’s cumming forever, and eventually he has to pull out because you’re just too full. As soon as his gradually softening cock is pulled free, it seems like a veritable bucketload of cum streams out of you and makes a mess of the bedcovers. It’s simultaneously really gross and really, really hot, and you don’t have the energy to unpack that so you just lay back and watch as Kirishima’s cock continues to dribble cum all over his legs and your abdomen. The swollen base of his cock is deflated now, and his dick eventually gives one last twitch and then he’s finished. 

He collapses on top of you, sweaty and soiled with his cum, but you don’t complain as he wraps you up in his arms and kisses your temples, murmuring soft, mindless praise into your hairline. “Are you okay?” he whispers, “Did I hurt you?”

You laugh a little, still winded. Your pussy is feeling achey from being stretched so wide, and you’re definitely going to have trouble walking tomorrow, but it’s the best kind of hurt imaginable. “You did everything just right.” you say, giving him a tired smile. “How was it?”

“If I could stay in your pussy forever, I would.” he says solemnly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

You laugh properly at that, and roll over so that you’re lying across his chest. “Yeah? Well, I think you’ve just ruined me for all other cocks in the world. No one's ever gonna compare to how good yours feels.”

With your chin on his chest, you have a clear view of the way he flushes at your words, and the vulnerability that creeps into his expression as he looks at you. “Really?”

“I just came so hard it felt like the world was ending.” you grin at him, then press a teasing kiss to one of his pecs. “Yes, really.”

A smile breaks out on his face, toothy and dorky, as if he can’t believe his luck. “So… Would you want to do it again, maybe? Sometime?”

The smile you return is so wide it feels like it’s about to split your face. “Yeah, Eiji. Without question.”

It’s hard to kiss when you’re both grinning like total idiots, but the two of you make a valiant effort all the same. The ridiculous amount of cum painting the two of you is beginning to dry and flake off your skin, and it's definitely kind of gross but you’re so happy and sated and tired in that moment that you’re pretty sure nothing on earth could ruin the moment for you. Not even Bakugou when he comes pounding at the door and yelling obscenities in the form of noise complaints.

[halaboyz]

–– PHOTOGRAPH // CHANHEE.

pairing: photographer! chanhee x  fem! reader genre: fluff, bffs to lovers word count: 2k warnings // notes: profanities, cliche, cheesy things and shitty effort of making lines ;; happiest birthday to our choi chanhee!! may he be blessed for his heart full of love <3

"You're coming to my exhibit, right?" He said as he hands you one of the tickets, and you chuckling because of the name of his exhibit.

"What kind of name is this?" You stifled a laugh, "My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You,"

Chanhee watches you hold on to dear life as you burst out laughing, wiping the tears that have escaped your eyes.

"Well, if only the linguistic major here helped me pick out some words I don't even know exists," He glares at you, "Then maybe we could've picked a better name, am I right?" He rolls his eyes as you calmed down, finally taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“Okay, okay Mr. grumpy, I’m sorry,” You said between laughter. Looking at the time and date, you nod, your smile slowly fading to a frown.

“What’s wrong? You can’t come again?” He frowns with you, a pout coming out of his lips. Your heart broke by the sight, knowing that even if he had hundreds of exhibits already, you haven’t come to one because of work.

“I’m afraid I’m gonna have to miss this one too,” You tackled him into a hug. “I have a very important meeting set by last minute,” You mumbled against the crook of his neck, causing him to whine.

“I was so sure you’d go to this one though..” You hear him mumble, as a sigh came out. 

“How are you so sure?” You raised your eyebrows at him, sitting up. 

“I checked your schedule!” He exclaimed, getting the ticket from you. “I can’t help it. You always have work when I handle an exhibit and wow, are you still my best friend?” He dramatically stands up, making his way to the other couch in front of you.

“Aw,” You whined, tailing him and throwing yourself at him again making him groan. “Give me that,” You reach for the ticket, only to be pulled by Chanhee again.

“Can’t you just cancel it?” He pouts, looking desperate.

“Look, I’m not the client. I can’t just cancel whenever,” You pressed his cheeks together, wiggling his face. “But give me the ticket. If they can set meetings last minute, they might cancel things last minute too. We’ll never know,” You reached higher, grabbing the ticket.

Chanhee huffed, making you lose your footing and it all happened so fast, you instinctively put out your elbow to support your fall– well, on the floor. You didn’t know Chanhee had that goddamn fast reflexes as he pulls you close to him, making you elbow his.. danger zone.

You shrieked as chanhee silently suffers, his face saying it all. 

“Oh my fucking god..” You muttered, pressing your lips to a thin line to stop yourself from bursting in laughter. 

Chanhee lets out a small groan as you slowly remove your elbows, your face mirroring Chanhee’s pained face.

“I’m so sorry,” You mumble, letting out a small laugh.

“I’d kill you if you laugh right in front of me,” He sighs out, crouching and wriggled his body all over the couch.

You were red. Oh, no. Not because of what just happened, but because you were stopping yourself from laughing. You knew Chanhee meant every word he said.

“You should fucking go at my exhibit after busting my balls,” He mumbled against the throw pillow.

“Hey! Not my fault you pulled me!”

You were redder. Oh, no. Not because you were now suppressing your laughter, but how you remembered how close Chanhee was to you just minutes ago if it weren’t for his unfortunate luck.

He suddenly stands up, wincing.

“Are you kidding me?! If it weren’t for me, you’re injured and crying and we’re probably on the way to the hospital right now!” He sighs out, the pain finally fading second by second.

You fanned yourself, trying to focus on what your friend was saying.

“Anyways,” You shake your head. “I’ll do my best.” You smile at him apologetically before sticking out your tongue, and ending the night while getting tackled by Chanhee– as if he was possessed by Changmin.

You bounced your feet continuously, waiting for your client. You just prayed for it to be really, really short to get to Chanhee’s exhibition. 

You knew how important this was to him, and it broke your heart that as his best friend, you can’t even go to one. 

Or was it because you’re starting to see Chanhee in a whole, different light?

There are a few times that your heart thumped abnormally at the sight of Chanhee frowning, and you can’t put your finger on which emotion was it. Did it hurt you because you were his best friend and you can’t go, or did it hurt because you were still a best friend? Either way, if it were the latter, if you were his girlfriend– no, you didn’t deserve him. 

You can’t even make time for him as a best friend, how’d you do if you were his?

Starting to overthink, you were thankful by the sound of your phone rang for a second, signaling a message.

chanhee: go or this friendship is over. grr sent 3:35pm

You knew he was joking. Partly, you guess. Or maybe not. You suddenly became nervous, your feet bouncing doubled. You sip on the drink, you had twenty-five minutes left to run over his exhibit, but the client–

You jump as your phone suddenly rang, making you tremble. Your client was finally calling, after being late for fifteen minutes already.

And oh my god, your heart could have burst from the news. You hailed a taxi as fast as you can, and the smile on your face can’t stop rising.

Finally. You were finally getting to see his exhibit.

You smile more at the thought, more to expect of Chanhee’s reaction. You felt nervous, excited, and giddy. It wasn’t the first time seeing Chanhee’s works, as he’d been part of the photography club since college, but it still made you excited and proud of what he’s become.

You sighed in relief as you look outside, the big name– My Art Speaks Words I Want to Deliver to You welcoming you. 

3:50.

Ten minutes. You just need to run, no biggie. 

“Hi, I’m uh.. Chanhee’s friend.” You smile at the guard, handing him your ticket while still trying to catch your breath.

“Oh! You’re! You’re! You’re the friend!” He exclaimed, excitedly opening the door for you. “You’re just in time! Well, technically, you’re.. running a bit late but! Doesn’t matter. You’re finally here!” You just look at him confusingly, nodding your head as you roam your eyes on the big place.

Your heartbeat is twice as fast more than running. 

You felt combusting quite literally. Your eyes wandered to each picture, letting it sink in that those in the pictures..

Were you.

It was all you.

There were only a few people left, smiling as they take in every photograph that wasn’t even them.

“These are so sweet. The name of the exhibit literally says it all,” A woman in her middle 30s, you guess, said as she clung to her probably husband’s arm.

“It does. The photographer’s indeed talented. Even makes me giddy,” You chuckle as you eavesdropped, reverting your attention back to the pictures.

All was black and white.

But it didn’t matter.

What colored his world was you– it has always been you. 

A black and white picture doesn’t do justice to how much light you bring to his dull world, it was just you that he needed in order to make a simple black and white picture to be beautiful.

Your smile. It was one of the things he loved seeing, he loved taking a picture of. It made everyone around you smile too, and it made him upset that it wasn’t just him making you smile.

Your hair, how every single hairstyle suits you, how it flows across your face, and how you always brush it back when it frustratingly gets in your face. One of his favorites and loved taking a picture of it along with the pout on your face.

Your eyes, which spoke a thousand words and held millions of stars and also one of the millions of things he loved about you, and seeing it on a picture didn’t make sense as you needed to see it in person to make you feel butterflies on your stomach.

Every move you did was captured on his camera, and you didn’t even realize the tears have already gone out of your eyes.

He made you beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful,

Because you always were.

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. 

You were already in the last picture, and oh were you certain chanhee wasn’t the one who took this. You felt thankful enough Changmin, your other friend, had quite the skills in taking pictures too because this.. was just perfect. 

You didn’t need to be pretty in everybody’s eyes, you just needed him. Because he is what completed you.

It was a picture taken afar of you sleeping in the library on one of your college days, and Chanhee was supporting his head with his palm, looking– just looking at you with heart eyes.

“Oh my fucking god,” You sighed out, crouching as you messily wiped your tears away, though it still kept on spilling.

“You’re finally here.” That sweet, familiar voice that enchanted you sighed out, from the corner of the four-walled place. He was leaning on the wall, looking as if he had finally had the burden out of his chest. “So, what do you think?”

Just like the pictures, you didn’t need words. You just throw yourself at him, nuzzling against his neck as you cried like a baby.

He sighs out again, relieved, as he buried himself more to you and engulfing each other’s warmth. His hands continued to calm you down by caressing your back, and you tried your best to stop crying.

Chanhee pulls back, taking your face to his hands and wiping your tears away.

“Hey, look at me,” He leans closer to you, lifting your face up softly. “If you didn’t get the whole point of this exhibition then.. I might just smack you in the face.” 

You let out a small defeated laugh, wiping the tears yourself.

“I love you too if that was what it meant.” You look at him straight in the eyes, slouching your shoulders. You took his face into your hands too, pressing your lips softly in his.

He smiled in the kiss, his hands making their way to your neck as he kisses you back.

More than perfect.

The moment you were both out of breath, you break the kiss but let your foreheads linger with each other, smiles on your faces.

“Just.. how many times have you tried doing this?” You whisper, taking ahold of his hand and intertwining your fingers. 

You pull him in front of the last picture you’ve seen, now clear as ever without your tears on the way.

“Oh, I think out of my hundred and fifty exhibits you missed,” You roll your eyes, the sarcasm his voice spilling. “It's my 98th try. That’s why I really needed you to come.” He looks at you, thinking it was much better seeing you in person rather than just a photograph– as if it's like the first time seeing you all over again.

“And if I didn’t come? Would you really have the guts to break this friendship?” You face him back, taking his other hand.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I’d take it in my own hands and just.. straight up confess.” He craned his head sideward, challenging you.

“I’d been feeling very weird these days too, I just realized how much I am so in love with you if it weren’t for your art speaks words I want to deliver to me,” You chuckle, making him throw his head back.

Perfect.

Chanhee loved everything about photography, and he loved photography because it’s able to take what’s beautiful and he can cherish it forever. He loved it because not only it can take pictures of his friends, or nature, or what he found beautiful and calming, but it has the power to turn everything into a memory he can keep. He loved photography, he loved taking a picture of you, he loved you.

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

My Mate

Pairing: Alpha Ushijima x Omega Oikawa’s sister Reader

Genre: slight angst, fluff ending

Prompt:  I’ll make you my mate, no matter what. So be prepared

AN: Hey anon, I hope you like it! 

“Oikawa.”

“Ushijima.” Your jaw clenched as you looked up at the Alpha. He had approached you in the middle of the hallway, alone oddly enough. “How can I help you?”

“I’ll make you my mate, no matter what. So be prepared.” And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving your jaw to drop. 

“Who does he think he is?!” You scoff, looking at your best friend who looked surprised at the interaction. “Does he really think I’ll be his mate after everything he’s done?” You shake your head, whirling away and stomping towards the gates of campus.

“Oi! Where are you going?”

“Out!” 

As you storm down the streets, you angrily kick a rock along your war path. Mate? To Ushiwaka? That was the absolute last person you’d ever consider. As Oikawa’s younger sister, you had spent many years hearing how Ushijima would disrespect your brother. You’d thrown a fit when your parents decided to send you to Shiratorizawa. Your brother had even ignored you for over a week because of it! 

Your heart had been crushed. It took you crying to Iwaizumi in order to get it through Oikawa’s mind that you wanted to be at Aoba Johsai with them. 

Of course, the first day of Shiratorizawa, you were greeted with the unwelcome sight of Ushijima as your buddy. All second years were assigned to first years in order to show them around campus and ensure that they were safe, and of course, your luck had you paired with Ushijima.

It wasn’t like he was a terrible guy. No, he was just such a traditional Alpha. 

He believed that Omegas should be docile and quiet, which you were not. How could you be when you had an Alpha brother like Oikawa? 

He believed that Omegas should rely on Alphas, which you did not. How could you when you had an Alpha friend like Iwaizumi who taught you how to be self-reliant? No matter what, you and Ushijima would not agree. 

And yet, that somehow made him desire you even more. 

You found yourself at an empty park, the one you used to frequent with your brother and his friend. Stopping at the boundary, you stared at the net longingly for a moment. It has been months since you last played. Scanning the park, you spy an old tattered ball underneath a bush. Stooping down, you fish it out, giving the ball a quick squeeze. You were pleasantly surprised that it had sufficient air pressure in order to play. Bouncing the ball once or twice, you twirled the ball between your hands before tossing it up for a serve. Crack. The ball slammed down into the back line, just in the court. You grinned, looking down at your palm. You couldn’t remember the last time a serve had felt so right. 

“May I join you?” 

Your lip curled up slightly as the familiar mountain scent filled the air. “Ushijima. You followed me.” 

 Turning, you see the Alpha underneath the lamp-light. “I was worried you would wander somewhere in your rage and get into trouble.” 

(E/c) eyes narrowed. “Do you think I’m incapable of taking care of myself, Ushijima?” You growled, stepping closer to the Alpha. “Do you think that I’m some poor, defenseless Omega that you need to rescue?” 

Ushijima tilts his head. “No.” You tilt your head at this. “But as someone who wishes to court you, I cannot help but worry about you.” Your lip twitched.

Thump. Thump. 

Why did that make your heart race? Your Omega had awoken now, dropping into a playful crouch as she wiggled in an effort to tease the Alpha. Internally you cursed. You didn’t need an Alpha to worry about you. “I can worry about myself,” you sniffed, turning your back to him once again. “C’mon then. Show me what the star of the men’s volleyball can do.” 

A hum of satisfaction filled the air as his scent warmed. Ushijima walked past you, his scent enveloping you. Your Omega yipped. Ushijima’s chest puffed out as he retrieved the ball. As he dropped into position, you couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles flexed. He was in his black long-sleeve and white shorts. He had probably just come from practice. “I can toss for you if you would like.”

Your body freezes as you look over at the Alpha, mouth drying. “How did you know I was a spiker?” 

“I saw you playing back at Kitagawa First. You were an incredible spiker. It’s a shame you do not play anymore.” Ushijima bounced the ball, olive eyes focused on your form. “So? Would you like me to toss for you?” 

Hesitation filled you as you bit back a scathing retort. No, I wouldn’t want to force you to lower your standards. But, he had offered after all. “..Sure.” 

Ushijima offered you a small smile as he ducked under the net, coming to your side. “Just throw the ball up and I will toss it for you.” 

And so that’s how you practiced. You would throw the ball up, Ushijima would toss it to you, and you would spike it. After every spike or so, Ushijima would either compliment you or mention something about your form in order for you to improve. He would even go get the ball for you both. Otherwise, the only sound was the volleyball hitting your hands or the volleyball crashing into the ground on the other side of the net. An hour or so passed before it got too dark to continue playing. Replacing the ball where you had found it, you and Ushijima made the walk back to campus.

“So, you knew me from when I played in middle school?” You asked, hands in your pocket as Ushijima walked beside you.

“Yes. That’s how I knew I wanted you to be my mate.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “You chose your mate based on volleyball skill?”

“No.” You looked up at Ushijima who had stopped. “I may have considered it, but I ultimately chose my mate because I could see how hard-working they are. I saw how they were able to communicate with their peers on and off of the court.” He stared down at you. “I am not the most expressive or communicative person I will admit. Most of my time will be filled with volleyball. But I had a feeling that you would understand that, and that is why I would like to court you and see if you would choose me as your mate.”

Confusion filled you. He had seen all of that based on how you played? “But how do you know that makes us compatible?” 

He lifts his shoulders. “We won’t know until we try, correct?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you grumbled, turning and starting to walk. “Well? C’mon there, Ushijima. Take me out on a date or something and I guess we can try.”

He smiles once again, catching up to you in three long strides. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the opportunity.”

*****

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[thefanficmonster]

Not Alone

Valkyrae (Rae) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mention of death of a pet, Grieving

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Angst

Summary: When Y/N doesn’t join the scheduled stream of Among Us with some cheap reasoning that everyone else falls for, Rae is far from convinced. She goes on to check the situation on her own just for her suspicions and worries to be confirmed further - something is off about Y/N and Rae is nothing if not determined to find out what.

Requested by @alex3atsbugs  Hello dear, consider this my farewell to the adorable little Marceline, I hope the cutie is looking down at us from heaven right now. Marceline, I might not have known you but I miss and love you regardless.  You have a special place in our hearts and you will never be forgotten. All my love, Vy ❤

“Ok so we’re only waiting on Lily now, right?“ Sykkuno asks, adjusting his earbuds as he scans over the settings for the game since he was the one to create the lobby which is now almost complete - lacking one more astronaut before the game can start.

Rae, who’s been scrolling through Instagram, looking at fanart and edits, snaps her head up to look at her computer monitor with confusion written all over her features, her brows furrowed, “Wait, what about Y/N? Aren’t they coming?”

This sudden change has surprised Rae more than someone would consider reasonable. But, in her eyes, it’s perfectly reasonable and justifiable considering Y/N has never skipped a stream nor have they ever not reported to her even for the tiniest of things such as running late. Even if they are not joining today, which is a huge oddity in and of itself, they would’ve definitely told Rae about it.

“Oh, no they won’t be joining us today. They said they were experiencing some technical troubles.” Sykkuno replies nonchalantly which aggravates Rae a tiny bit. She cannot comprehend how no one else is seeing anything odd here. Maybe it has something to do with how attentive she is when it comes to Y/N - she’s not sure why, but she is - or maybe it’s just a gut instinct but regardless, she can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Not to mention that in all their years of streaming together on Twitch and now on YouTube never has Y/N dealt with technical difficulties that led to them not being able to stream. 

Y/N is the type of organized person that is constantly on top of things. They’d never let a technical difficulty get between them and providing their fans with entertainment. Chances are, if there really was an issue, it would’ve been fixed by now and even if it wasn’t...

Y/N would’ve let me know they wouldn’t be joining, Rae’s mind screams, almost altering her calm facial expression. 

“Hey can you give me about five minutes? My router’s acting up, I’ll restart it.“ Rae blurts out without as much as a second thought. Her thoughts are elsewhere right now, she’s got more important things to worry about. Luckily, her ability of rational thinking pushes through to the surface even without her guidance. 

She mutes her in-game and stream mics, takes her phone and rises from her chair, giving the camera what she hopes is a more apologetic rather than distressed smile before walking off-frame. Once out of view, she dials Y/N’s number, tapping her foot anxiously as she waits for her call to be picked up.

“Hello?“ When it does get answered, she’s met with a sniff before the weak voice utters the hesitant greeting word.

“Hey Y/N! What’s up?“ Rae tried to balance her question between a ‘what’s up?‘ in the ‘what’s wrong?‘ sense and the usual cheerful greeting she uses it as. She doesn’t want to end up seeming paranoid.

“Oh, hey, Rae. Nothing much. Aren’t you supposed to be streaming right now?“ Y/N’s tone raises a bit as they try to apply a bit more energy and enthusiasm into their words, presumably to erase any suspicion that sniffle might’ve caused in their friend who appears to have a sixth sense for when things are up with the people they care about. Or with Y/N specifically.

“Um...“ Rae spares the stream set-up a skeptical look, buying herself time to think of an excuse to partner her negation. She doesn’t want to lie to Y/N but she’s aware that they’ll be quick to ditch the conversation and postpone it if she admits to indeed be streaming. “Um, no, not yet. We scheduled it a bit later. Will you be joining us?“

“Uh, no, sorry, I won’t be able to. I’m sick and feeling like absolute crap so...“

Rae automatically stops listening, not on purpose, she just can’t hear Y/N’s voice over the alarms going off in her head, screaming at here that there’s something SERIOUSLY wrong. The stories not adding up - neither of them making sense to begin with - the lack of any authentic energy in Y/N’s voice, that sniffle she heard at the start of the call. It’s all so scarily wrong that it sends Rae one second away from entering full panic mode.

“I thought you were having technical difficulties.“ She blurts out without any thought of it’d make Y/N feel or how it would change the course of the conversation. 

Y/N inhales sharply as if caught completely off-guard and backed up into a corner, “Oh, yeah, that too. My computer keeps crashing.” Being backed up into a figurative corner doesn’t stop them from trying to further pursue this lie they’ve come up with. A lie so blatant and obvious there’s really no point in them trying to keep it going. Yet they choose to do exactly that.

“Y/N, you’re BSing me, you should know better than that!“ Rae whines almost desperately, “Please, tell me what’s going on? We’re friends, I don’t deserve to be kept in the dark, Y/N!“

There’s silence on the other end, loud silence that almost sends Rae into a breakdown. Some may consider it an overreaction, but let me ask you - wouldn’t you be upset and worried if someone you immensely care about was acting oddly and completely out of character.

“You’re going to think it’s ridiculous.“ Y/N’s voice cracks, letting it be known, clear as day, that they are barely balancing on the edge between keeping it together and crying.

“Of course I won’t, baby! I would never! Talk to me.“ Rae pursues, her heart breaking a little at the sound of her friend’s sadness. It’s taking a really big toll on her, not being able to hold Y/N in her arms instead of trying to gauge out their answers over the phone which is proving to be not at all effective or helpful to either of them.

Y/N sniffles again, “My hamster, Marcy...” She inhales to prevent a sob from escaping her lungs, “...died this morning.”

Rae has heard enough to be sent into action.

                                                            *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Rae. I would’ve probably stayed in bed all day with no effort to keep living whatsoever. You’re an amazing person, I hope you know that.“ Y/N gives the hand of Rae’s that’s holding hers a small squeeze, “I’m so lucky to have you.“

The two friends have been sitting on the couch in Y/N’s living room, the atmosphere a mix of melancholy and comfort. The comfort Rae’s been offering Y/N for the past hour or so has been almost entirely silent, in the form of physical affection, to be exact - hugs, soothing backrubs, gentle abstract patterns drawn on their arm, playing with their hair etc. Needless to say, it’s been far more effective than the attempt of calming them down and helping them out over a phone call.

“Don’t ever thank me for being your friend, Y/N. The honor’s all mine“ Rae rubs Y/N’s shoulder reassuringly, resting her head against theirs.

“Rae, you ditched a whole damn stream for me! Of course I’m gonna thank you! Who else would do that for me?“ Y/N protests, their glossy eyes looking up at Rea, lit up by the small smile that has managed to make its way onto their face.

“Only someone utterly stupid and heartless WOULDN’T do that for you.“ Rae says firmly, holding stern eye-contact with her friend.

Y/N looks away almost shyly, smile growing wider, their cheeks becoming rosier. “You have a way with words, you know...” They bite their lip nervously, “Could you help me express my emotions in the post I’ve been planning to make all day? My fans loved Marcy and I’m sure they’ll be as crushed as I am, I just want to appear strong so they don’t worry about me, you know?” They shrug their shoulders hesitantly as another tear escapes their eye.

Rae carefully and gently wipes their tear away with her knuckles, “Of course, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone - you don’t have to do ANYTHING alone. Because you are never alone - you’ll always have me.”

Something about what Rae just said and the way she said it has struck a nerve in Y/N that has provoked a few more tears to spill out of their eyes as they somehow manage to whisper a: “Thank you” before throwing their arms around Rae, enveloping her entirely in the warmest of embraces. 

Meanwhile....

“Yo guys, how long does it take for a router to be reset?“ Sykkuno asks his fellow ghostie buds out of the blue.

“Less than five minutes. Why?“ Lily replies.

“Cause Rae said she’d reset her router and be back but she’s been gone for two hours so....“

[rose7420]

Snow Days

Loki and little Y/n take a day out in the snow, and Loki is scared Y/n will see his true form... requested from @lokiismyhubby

Y/N shivered in powdered, icy snow. Earlier in the day she had begged Loki to take her outside so she could play and experience the frozen precipitation.

Loki was reluctant about her wish.

Very reluctant.

At the current moment, he towered above her tiny form that was in between his black boots. For such a powerful god he looked harmless in his current attire. He wore more than two layers for each article of clothing claiming he was sensitive to the cold. He resembled the looks of an Eskimo. She smiled as she remembered her earlier teasing.

Unfortunately, Loki hadn’t let up on her layers either. Forcing her to wear even more things than him, she’d practically waddled out like a duck with the amount of clothing she wore. Loki had been pinching out another coat for her to wear, ready to force it upon her upper body if needed when she pleaded for him to let up. He had thankfully relented.

Now, his attention wasn’t on her, however. He seemed to be worried about something as his gloved fingers twitched every so often and that crease on his forehead was even more pronounced than usual.

“Are you okay Loki?” Y/N asked from the far-below ground. He paid no mind to her question, most likely because he couldn’t hear her. That was very unusual, for he had superior hearing to even the borrower herself who was gifted with sensitive ears to watch out for predators since the world was a very big place to a tiny thing like her.

“Loki!” She yelled, her hands cupped around her mouth attempting to amplify her quiet voice.

Still no answer.

She was getting rather cold on the frigid, frozen ground so she walked close to Loki’s left boot and placed a hand upon the leather ready to get his attention. But then an idea came to mind.

She gathered a sizeable snowball that was bigger than her fist and tapped Loki’s boot hoping the sensation would catch his attention. As hoped, he did spare her a glance and kneeled down to see her better, ready to offer a palm. Once his face was closer she readied her throwing arm and launched the snowball towards his face.

It landed on his cheek, barely making him flinch until he felt the coolness of it.

“Why did you have to do that?” He snarled, scaring Y/N. Panicking, Loki stood up momentarily forgetting about the borrower below him.

Y/n backed away from him trying to get out of the pathway of his fury and his boot. Right in time too as she saw the sole of his shoe flatten the snow where she had just stood. Her heart pounded with fear. She craned her head way up to see his face but he was covering it with both his hands.

“Loki, I-I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Y/n apologized.

Loki heard Y/n and worried she’d see him for what he truly was… a monster.

He couldn’t lose the only friend he had and wanted.

“Get away Y/n!” He yelled.

His loud voice frightened her. He never yelled. Especially at her. Y/n backpedaled falling into the deep snow. She fought to get back up but the snow was too deep and she too small. She began to cry as she realized she had messed such a good day up by a simple snowball.

Loki heard whimpers and sniffles. He peeked through his fingers to peer down at Y/n but when his eyes scanned the snowy ground her he caught no sight of her. His heart jolted, and his chest was tight with fear when he fell down to his knees searching the cold snow for his tiny friend.

“Y/n! Where are you?” He called. The whimpers before had quieted and the only thing to greet him was silence. His fingers desperately combed through the snow. She was tiny as ever, so vulnerable to the elements. She’d surely die if he didn’t find her in time.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

There! His cold digits made contact with a warm object. He scooped her out and scanned her form for any harm, then held her tightly to his chest. Her breath was even as if she had passed out. He tenderly pet her hair with a gentle finger to awaken her.

“Loki?” She croaked.

His hand bearing her was about to raise her to his face when he remembered why this incident had happened in the first place. He held still. Y/n squirmed in his hand that had formed a barrier to properly see his face. She climbed his fingers, latching onto the tip of his middle digit pulling herself up. She felt him shake his hand causing her to fall back down into his cupped palm.

“Loki!” She scolded.

Loki knew he had to show his friend who he truly was. It was not fair to her to hide back his true character, what he was meant to be. He raised his hand to his face and uncurled his fingers. He watched Y/n with apprehension as her eyes landed on his face gazing upon the blue of his skin paired with the indented lines. He waited for the fear to show, to become palpable.

But it never did.

She extended her arms out as if she wanted to touch it.

“A-are you not afraid of me? Do you not see who I truly am?” Loki asked, astonished.

Y/n crossed her arms and sassily replied: “All I see Loki is that your skin changed colors and that you have really cool lines on your forehead. Can I touch it?”

Loki couldn’t help but laugh. Y/n saw who he truly was, and didn’t just tolerate it but liked it. He felt relieved and happy.

“Well normally if you were to touch it I could harm you,” Loki informed Y/n.

“Well… if it does hurt me or whatever I’ll stop!” Y/n retorted.

Loki knew there was no way he could say no, Y/n was a stubborn thing. He raised her carefully to his forehead, holding still as her tiny hands ran across his skin. He closed his eyes and relished the little massage.

He felt Y/n jump off his hand and onto his shoulder.

“Hey! What did I say about doing that? You could get hurt and fall!” Loki scorned her. Y/n just shrugged and snuggled into the shade of his jacket hood up close to the uncovered skin of his neck, the blue tint receding and reverting back to his usual pale tone.

“Hey, no rush big guy but we may wanna head inside cus I think it’s about to snow some more and I can’t handle another one of your hissie fits,” Y/n said, completely ignoring his scolding.

He rolled his eyes and smiled trekking his way back to the little cabin they called home.

Later on, when Loki sat on his recliner, and Y/n in her own she thought of something.

“Loki you asked me if I was afraid of you out there. Why?”

Loki took a sip of his hot chocolate and looked at Y/n questionably.

“Isn’t it obvious?” He asked confused setting down the mug lightly to not jostle Y/n.

Y/n bit her lip and pondered the words she wanted to use. “I mean maybe to normal people it may be unusual but to us not really, you know? I mean look at me! I’m smaller than your thumb and escaped HYDRA.”

Loki gave her an intrigued look so she continued.

“My point is Loki, is that I know what real monsters look like. And you are not one of them. Sure we may be a bunch of weirdos who turn blue and need therapy but we are good weirdos. I just want you to know that.”

Loki smiled at her. Y/n stood up from her chair and jumped over to his arm resting on the side of his chair.

His smile changed into a frown and was about to scold her again but before he could she hugged his wrist. He pried her off, holding her waist between a finger and thumb and setting her on his shoulder where he herded her close to his neck in a makeshift hug.

“Well then, you are certainly my favorite little weirdo.”

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