#its so difficult to get out of bed and get up from the floor lately

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[stargirl-int3rlud3]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭.

adults of jjk x reader

🗯 ! swearing, cuddling, snoring, mentions of the sound of heartbeats, sleepwalking, drooling, insomnia, almost being crushed by Toji !

synopsis; how i interpret jjk characters would be like to share a bed with. — ♡

GOJO; In my opinion I think Gojo snores, not like loud ass snores (well, maybe sometimes), but like soft snores when he’s deep in sleep. The soft noises he admits while asleep always tends to lull you right to sleep even if you weren’t previously tired. Gojo subconsciously cuddles you in his sleep, however, it wasn’t always like this. It took awhile for Gojo to be truly comfortable having someone else sleep in his bed because he had gotten so accustomed to being by himself. One time he even freaked out when he rolled over in bed and felt someone on the other side of his bed, you had to calm him down and reassure him it was just you. Continuing, Gojo sometimes rolls himself off the bed. When you started sleeping in his bed he’d roll to your side and then when his body realized he couldn’t roll any farther he rolled the other way off the bed.

Due to an exhausting day at work, Gojo had headed to bed earlier than usual. You quietly make your way into Gojo’s room seeing him laying shirtless with both his legs and the blankets sprawled chaotically across the bed. A tingly warmth brought its way to your face as you could never quite get over how genuinely attractive and fit your boyfriend was. Crawling into bed with as much cautions as you could muster, you hear the soft snores release from his slightly parted lips. You laid on your back staring at the ceiling until you realized your brain was still quite awake, this is when you made the decision to scroll on your phone for a few. Just as your eyes began to feel tired and had started to close, a loud THUD made your eyes widen and your body sit up. Instinctual, you look over at Gojo to find him not where you had last saw him, you scramble to the other side of the bed to see Gojo rubbing his head which you assume he hit when he fell off the bed. You place yourself between his scrunched up legs to examine his head, giving it a few kisses before looking back into the beautiful eyes you had fallen in love with. A light dust of pink is brushed across his cheeks as he gives you a laugh, you push his shoulder which then results in him pulling you to the ground on top of him. He reaches on the bed and pulls a pillow and a blanket from off of it. Placing the pills under his head and the blanket over you two, there you two fall asleep on the floor together.

GETO; Unlike Gojo, Geto gets immediately used to the feeling of you in bed, so much so that when he doesn’t feel you in his bed he gets worried. He needs to be touching you at all times when you guys are in bed. I believe Geto to be a light sleeper, small things can wake him up but he also falls asleep easily. Geto sleepwalks every now and again, you have to double check all the doors are locked so he doesn’t leave and get hurt or lost. When sleepwalking he doesn’t do anything particularly weird, usually he just walks around and then either goes back to sleep in bed or on the couch. It really freaked you out the first time you found him sleepwalking.

On one particular night you had been falling in and out of sleep constantly making it difficult to truly go to sleep. Geto had his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in your spot next to him. While in the midst of falling in and out of sleep you must’ve not realized his arm had left your waist until you heard noises coming from somewhere outside of the bedroom. Slightly freaked out, you turn to Geto but he’s no where to be seen. Relief began to flood throughout your body as you get up to go looking for your boyfriend.

“Geto what’re you doing up, it’s so late?”

You rub your eyes as they make out Geto’s figure standing completely still in the kitchen.

“Geto?”

No response once again. At this point you were even more freaked out. Hoping he was just messing with you or something, you get closer to him and reach your hand out towards his shoulder. He swiftly turns and heads for the bedroom, freaking you out due to the fast movement. You made an executive decision to just sleep on the couch for the rest of the night.

When morning hit you were woken up by Geto asking you why you were sleeping on the couch, you explained his oddness last night and he apologized before telling you about how every once in awhile he sleepwalks. He made sure to make your favorite breakfast even though you insisted that he didn’t have to do that.

NANAMI; Nanami is also quite a light sleeper, but he needs some kind of noise to put him to sleep as well as complete darkness. Well, if you need some light because you can’t fall asleep in the dark cause it freaks you out he’ll absolutely let you do so. He prioritizes you sleeping over him sleeping. Nanami is always very warm so he usually doesn’t sleep with a blanket but instead a thin sheet of some sort and because his body is often quite warm you don’t have to worry about a blanket you just cling to him. Nanami also makes sure you have a glass of water by your bed every night in case you get thirsty.

Sleep had began to consume you when you and Nanami were curled up on the couch watching a movie and now even more so. Nanami held you up as you wobbled to your shared bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and made sure you were comfortable and cozy. A whine admitted from your mouth causing Nanami to turn back to you. You shiver and begin to rub your upper arms to show him you were cold as he was about to get a blanket, you whined again. With a soft smile on his face, knowing exactly what you wanted, he crawled into the empty space next to you and you buried yourself in his warmth. The warmth of your loving boyfriend drifted you right to sleep so much so that you began to snore a little. Unfortunately, to your dismay, you had gotten parched in the middle of the night so now here you were trying to move as slowly and quietly as possible out of Nanami’s arms. Which you somehow successfully did and were currently tip-toeing to the kitchen but as you opened the door and stepped out of the room an obnoxiously loud creaked echoed through the room instantly waking up Nanami. “My love? Why are you awake?” Nanami’s soft voice asks. “Um..I was thirsty” “Let me get it for you” He quickly gets out of bed and passes by you to get you a glass of water from the kitchen. When he comes back and hands it to you, you give him a sweet smile and a kiss on the cheek for his act of kindness. After that, you two are back to sleep in no time.

SHOKO; Sleep hasn’t been in Shoko’s vocabulary for awhile, she’s an insomniac after all. However, she tries her best to get as much sleep as her body will allow when you give her those big, pleading eyes. Who is she to say no to someone as cute as you? She has noticed that she sleeps more when she sleeps with you so now you try to sync your sleep schedule to hers, well, for the most part at least. You’ve even gotten her to take melatonin. If Shoko gets tired somewhere and falls asleep in your lap then you’ll stay there until she wakes up. To be honest, you’re just happy she’s sleeping.

You were sitting in the morgue waiting for Shoko to finish up what she was doing when you felt something in your lap. There laid Shoko’s head. You couldn’t contain your smile as you grazed your fingers through her hair. It didn’t take very long for Shoko to fall asleep, you knew it wouldn’t. She had a long day and she’d been exhausted since the minute she started. So, you spent this time admiring every bug and small feature that graced your girlfriend’s gorgeous face. Everything about her was beautiful, she’s beautiful. A few hours pass when Gojo walks in about to be his usual loud self when you give him a glare and hold your finger up to your lips. He marvels at the sight of a peaceful Shoko fast asleep in your lap. “Wow, you got her to sleep. You deserve an award for that” You roll your eyes at the man’s joke before looking back at the women in your lap. “God you’re really in love with her” In seconds, a red hue tints your cheeks as you flip Gojo off. He laughs knowing he just read you so easily, but in your mind all you could think is how could someone not love Shoko. “Are you sure you’re okay staying like that? Your legs must hurt” “I’m fine Gojo, I’d rather have her get as much as she can” Gojo leaves you two be so he doesn’t accidentally wake up Shoko and is forced to face your wrath.

UTAHIME; Utahime will never admit it but she loves to listen to your heartbeat to fall asleep. The sound just calms her so easily. Utahime is a heavy sleeper, she very rarely will wake up if you accidentally make noise. She doesn’t mind if you have your head laying on her shoulder or your holding hands when you sleep but she needs her own space. You both like to have your own sense of space but there are times where she wants to be closer (aka when she wants to listen to your heartbeat)

The sunshine soaked you and Utahime in its rays as you lay in the grass relishing in the warmth. The mix of the warm sun on her skin and the sound of your heartbeat echoing throughout her brain made her start to feel really sleep. She tried her best to stay awake but was soon succumbed to sleep. You watched as her eyes fought to stay open before fluttering closed. Her porcelain like skin shined brightly in the sun as you begin to feel yourself drifting to sleep and soon enough you are also sleeping in the warm rays of the sun with Utahime peaceful asleep on top of you.

INO; Ino is a big cuddler, to be fair he’s a big softy in general. He prefers being little spoon and will proudly admit that to the world. Now don’t get me wrong he has his moments where he wants you to be little spoon mostly because he likes the sight of you laying on top of him. Anyways, he snores AND drools when he sleeps but it’s not a lot of drool like it’s just a little bit and it’s actually so cute. He’s cute (he’s very pookie). He doesn’t exactly snore quietly but it isn’t that loud, like it’s not unbearable. He also cannot sleep without you now that you’ve started sleeping in the same bed.

Ino had been talking about how exhausted he was waiting for a call from his job so you told him, he could just fall asleep on top of you and you’d wake him up when he got a call from his job. He thanked you and in no time he was sleeping soundly. It didn’t take very long for the exhausted Ino to fall into a deep sleep and begin to snore. You had to hold back your giggles to not make the boy centimeters away from you. Not long after that he had began to drool on your chest. It was slightly gross but his cute face as he slept was far greater than any kind of grossness. You held him closer as if it might make you two fuse together so neither of you will ever have to leave each other. To both of your guys dismay, his phone rings and you’re forced to wake him up. As he blinks his eyes open and picks up the phone he realizes the drool stain on your shirt. A pinkish blush spread to his face as he scratches his head and mouths the words ‘sorry’. You kiss his free hand, letting him know that it’s okay. He smiles at you and give you a kiss on your head before returning back to his call.

TOJI; This man is pretty damn huge, he’s a fucking wall for crying out loud so the only space you ever really have is if you lay on top of him. I mean, hell, he’s not complaining. Sometimes you have to check if he’s dead because he sleeps so heavily and doesn’t make any noise. Toji does have a tendency to roll around in his sleep which isn’t always good for you cause he has almost crushed you a few times.

It was a peaceful night of sleeping. Toji had held you especially close since he had been gone for so long. Every bump and curve of your body was kissed by Toji. He hadn’t left your side since he came back, and you weren’t complaining. Once night fell and the moon came out, Toji hurried you off to bed. Toji wouldn’t outwardly admit it but he missed you sleeping on top of him. It just felt right with you and so when you weren’t there he began to sleep less. As you crawl your way on top of Toji, he smirks at you and caresses your face in his hands. Purely on instinct you push your face farther into his hand, enjoying the feeling of his skin on yours. He leans in to give you a goodnight kiss, this one lasts longer than usual but you don’t mind at all. Within no time at all you two are sound asleep. Toji is so sound asleep that he begins to turn his body, an action you don’t notice until it’s too late. Ot only takes you a few seconds to realize that there’s a giant hunk of a man crushing your rib cage. You try pushing him back over, doesn’t work. You try poking and smacking him, hoping that he’ll wake up, doesn’t work. You try wiggling your way out and that works for a few but it also takes a lot of energy out of you. You pinch him and he stirs a minute so you continue with that until he grumbles and his eyes open with an annoyed look. That soon fades (for the most part) when he realizes he’s laying in top of you. Quickly, he moves and places you back into op if his chest. You thank him and tell him to never do that ever again. He just shrugs and goes back to sleep while playing with your hair.

☆ | I struggled a bit with Utahime’s and Ino’s so sorry if they aren’t what you expected them to be!!

[7-wonders]

Wishful Drinking

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: After Morpheus cruelly dismisses you, you decide that you'll get back at him by staying out of the Dreaming one night for as long as you can. What you don't anticipate is letting your feelings get the best of you and getting very drunk instead.

Or, drunk shenanigans galore!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: I don't know what this is, y'all. I haven't written anything in more than a month, and it was so tough to even write this, but I wanted to write SOMETHING. As always, hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts, and likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

ALSO! Dream logic applies here, in that you're still drunk when you reach the Dreaming.

Listen.

You know that certain coping mechanisms, like, say, going out clubbing with your friends and getting crazy drunk for the first time in a long time, aren’t exactly healthy. But things have been difficult for you lately! You’ve been struggling a lot, in both your professional and personal life. These hardships are only compounded by the fact that the one person (or person-shaped being) in your life that you thought you could count on, your Morpheus, has been too busy to have time for you.

Literally. He said those exact words to you a mere three days ago, when you had found him in his personal study (a study that he almost never used) after what felt like a day spent chasing him around the Dreaming. You meant for it to come out as teasing when you took note of the fact that you hardly saw him around lately and that it felt like he was purposefully avoiding you, but he had sighed and glared at you before saying, “I have much to do, and I am far too busy to entertain you right now.”

You glowered, but, as he said, he was too busy to see it. Fine, you thought as you turned around and stalked out of his study. Leave him to his business. 

Cut to today. When your friends asked if you wanted to go out with them, you almost said no, having gotten accustomed in the past couple of months to the routine of going to bed by nine o’clock in order to maximize time spent in your lover’s realm. But then, the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t want to just continue sitting around in the Dreaming and hoping that Morphues would come out of whatever funk he was in. After all, why should you make an effort when he won’t? You’re not about to beg for his attention.

With that in mind, you texted back that you very much wanted to go out with them and proceeded to get ready for a fun night out.

The plan was to have a couple of drinks, dance for a bit, and stay out of the Dreaming just long enough to make Morpheus sweat a bit.

But then shots had been ordered.

And your friend bought you a drink because they knew you had had a tough week.

And you bought yourself two drinks.

And a group of guys bought you another round of shots, and though you all laughed at the fact that they were not getting anything out of this, you still took them because you weren’t about to turn down free alcohol.

This leads to you and your friends stumbling out of a bar at two in the morning, holding each other up as you do. Definitely not the plan, but what’s that one quote about plans and mice and men?

“What about a mouse?” your friend asks from beside you, making you realize that you said that out loud.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it,” you say.

Somehow, you make it into a Lyft (thank the gods for friends who don’t get carried away), and somehow, you make it into your home. Not without its difficulties–you dropped your keys multiple times on the walk to your front door, and there might be a you-shaped indent in the entryway wall from where you fell into it when trying to kick your shoes off. 

When you reach your bedroom, you decide that actually, the floor looks comfier than your bed does. You’re so drunk that the room feels like it’s spinning when you lay down, and you close your eyes to enjoy the ride.

“Fuck, I’m so drunk right now,” you say out loud, laughing at the sound of your slurred words.

You don’t mean to fall asleep, really. You know that you need to crawl to the bathroom to wash your face and find enough dexterity to change clothes before hopefully sobering up just enough that you can make it to the kitchen to grab painkillers and water for the inevitable killer hangover you’re going to have tomorrow. The floor is just so soft, though, and you work yourself into a trance-like state by staring up at the ceiling fan and watching it go around and around and around. On one blink, you’re staring at your ceiling.

And on the next, you’re staring at another ceiling, one that’s not really a ceiling at all, but an entire galaxy above your head.

It’s easy to get lost in the magnificent colors swirling above you (especially in your current state), and you do, until you hear someone calling your name. When you look away from the universe, you see the love of your life looking at you, though at present, he is not reciprocating the heart eyes that you are always looking at him with.

“Where have you been?” Morpheus demands.

“Morpheus, my love!” You throw your arms out and grin. “I’ve missed you.”

“Do you have any idea how worried I have been? I sent Matthew to find you hours ago when first you were late, only for him to report that he could not find you at your home.” You’re a little surprised that Matthew hadn’t managed to track you down; your little raven friend was almost scarily good at finding people/places/things.

“Aw, you’ve missed me?” It makes sense, of course; after all, you’ve missed him, so it’s only natural that he would miss you in return. Still, the sentiment makes you feel all warm and melty on the inside.

 It’s obvious to anybody who actually takes the time to know Morpheus—a tiny list of people and beings, two of whom are in the room with him right now—that he’s fighting a war between wanting to scold you and wanting to hold you and check you up and down for wounds. Morpheus crosses the room towards you, and you ready yourself for the inevitable lecture you’re about to get, about how you’re just a fragile little human and he worries every moment that you’re away from him (y’know, now that you have the clarity of a drunk person, you’re actually annoyed that this is constantly coming from the being that’s meant to be your lover).

But that’s not what happens.

Instead, you find his arms wrapped tightly around you and his face buried in your neck. He’s hugging you, not the other way around. He’s never done such a thing before, and you don’t know how to react. What you do know is that any of the residual anger you had been feeling drains out of you like water from an unstoppered bathtub. You really didn’t think that being away for—the math isn’t mathing for you currently, and you don’t actually know how long it’s been—a couple of hours would affect him this much.

“You are the one most dear to my heart,” he mutters into your ear, cognizant of the fact that you are not alone in this throne room. “Of course, I missed you.”

“Oh. When you said you were ‘too busy to entertain’ me, I just kinda assumed you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Though you don’t mean to weaponize your words, the poison darts make contact with their target anyway, and Morpheus stiffens in your hold.

“Are you alright?” he asks instead, choosing to wait until a later time to have this particular conversation.

“Aw, dream boy” you coo, snaking a hand up to clumsily run it through his hair. “I’m okay baby, swear it! Like, absolutely, one hundred percent fine.”

Morpheus pulls away from you so that he can look you up and down to confirm that you really are okay. “You smell like a pub,” he notes. 

“How can you tell that in the Dreaming?”

He ignores your question when a realization seems to hit him. “Are you inebriated?”

“No, I’m drunk,” you correct very matter-of-factly.

“That is–” he stops, choosing instead to just shake his head.

“Oh, dear,” Lucienne mutters from behind Morpheus, reminding you of her presence in the first place.

“Lucienne! Hi! How have you been!” 

You crane around Morpheus to be able to see your favorite librarian, but you almost fall over in the process. Before you can tip too far over, Morpheus is there to right you again. When he does, he looks down at you with quite the serious expression on his perfect face.

“Who did this to you?” he asks, ready to punish whoever put you in such a state.

“Vodka. Rum, maybe?” You think back on your drinks for the evening, though it’s hard to think back that far. “Yeah, the second round of shots was definitely rum.”

“You put yourself in this state?”

“Yes?” Has Morpheus never heard of the concept of going out and getting shitfaced with your pals? “To be fair, I didn’t think that my drunkenness would…” You search for the word that you want to use, but it’s just not coming to you! “Uh, carry over?”

“Please tell me you managed to make it home safely?”

You nod. “Sure did! Pretty sure I fell asleep on the floor, though.”

Lucienne slowly begins to back up towards the door, and Morpheus stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask nervously, starting to get upset the longer the silence drags on. Did you say something that you shouldn’t have? Is there a rule you don’t know about against sleeping on floors?

Instead of answering you, Morpheus waves a hand in the air and says, “This dream is over.” 

You’re awake and once again staring up at your ceiling fan, only this time, Morpheus is also in your line of sight. It’s impossible to stop yourself from touching him when you’re sober, so it’s not at all surprising that your hands go up to caress his face now when you’re drunk.

“Hi cutie,” you greet, laughing in delight when he flushes just the slightest amount.

He grabs your hands and kisses the back of both before setting them against your chest. “Why are you sleeping on your floor?”

“Because,” is your simple, childish reply.

“That is not a good answer.”

“It’s the one you get because it’s the one I have.” You throw in a peace sign to be extra spicy, but Morpheus, unfortunately, doesn’t comprehend your 21st-century humor, and instead just segues into the next order of business.

“Might I help you up, so that we can get you properly ready for bed?”

“But I’m comfy,” you groan. Morpheus is not buying what you’re selling, unfortunately, so you sigh. “Fine.”

Morpheus holds his hands out for you to take and helps you to your feet. Too fast, apparently, because the room begins to spin and your stomach tilts dangerously, making you clap a hand over your mouth.

“Oh no. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy,” you chant, squeezing your eyes shut and laying your head against Morpheus’s shoulder while you try to breathe through sudden nausea. You will not throw up on your super hot eldritch nightmare king boyfriend, you command yourself. Not tonight, and not ever.

“What is wrong?” Morpheus sounds panicked, and you want to reassure him, but you hold up a finger in the meantime.

When the nausea finally passes, you take a deep breath and slowly look up. “Okay, I think I’m good now.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Sometimes drinking too much combined with moving too fast makes people feel sick. It’s my fault, but I’ll be okay.”

“Are you well enough to move?”

“Yes, I promise.” 

To prove your point, you let go of his hand and start walking heel to toe as the police require during field sobriety tests (honestly, you’re a little surprised that you can actually do this right now). You can practically feel your lover's amusement behind you, but it proves to him that you are capable. Morpheus lets you walk to the bathroom on your own power, and you think the only reason he doesn’t sweep you off your feet is because he’s worried you’ll throw up if he does. He watches you intently the entire time, though. 

You sit on the lip of the bathtub, watching Morpheus move about your bathroom as though he knows where everything is; he probably does, you realize, whether it be from that endless wealth of knowledge about everyone and everything that he possesses, or just his familiarity with your home. After rummaging around for a few moments, he comes back with a washcloth and your favorite pajamas. The sight of the familiar material makes you tear up, and you sniffle loudly.

Morpheus looks up in alarm. “Are you okay?”

“You remembered my favorite pajamas,” you say, trying to not start crying. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s come directly to see you off to his realm, and you’ve probably worn those pajamas twice. Yet he remembered the one-off comment you had made about how they were your favorite because of course he did.

His face softens. “Of course I did.”

You clear your throat and wipe your eyes. “Sorry. I’m okay! Just drunk.”

Morpheus hands you said pajamas before turning the faucet on and letting the water run. He seems to realize something after a moment and looks at you helplessly. “I do not feel temperature as you do. Is the water alright?” 

You grin and stick your hand under the faucet, moving the tap just a smidge hotter before nodding at him. “It’s good now. Thank you for asking.”

He begins to run the damp washcloth gently over your face, a barely-there smile appearing on his own when you wrinkle your nose at the cool sensations. Where this situation would be awkward with anybody else, it feels entirely natural with Morpheus. You’ll take these little moments of domesticity with him whenever you can get them, even when you’re still half drunk.

Even if you wanted to, you can’t hold yourself back from saying, “You’re so beautiful, do you know that? Seriously, you’re the prettiest man-slash-anthropomorphic-personification I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” The words are heavy on your tongue, but you’re pretty proud of the way you only barely stumble through ‘anthropomorphic’.

“You are still under the influence,” he notes.

“So? Drunk words equal sober thoughts, right?”

“‘A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ Jean-Jacques Rosseau,” he supplies.

“Sure, that. I’d tell you how pretty you are even if I was sober, and you know that.”

“Perhaps.” He says it in that infuriatingly sexy way of his, the one that makes you want to tear his clothes off.

Instead, you’re the one taking your own clothes off, though not for any fun reason. Getting changed is not as difficult a task as it would have been when you first arrived home, with the benefit of time naturally sobering one up on your side. Morpheus still keeps a hand held out, just in case you lose your balance and need something to grab onto, but after you’ve finished changing, that hand slips under your shirt and caresses your side.

“Thought you were supposed to be helping me keep my clothes on,” you say with a shiver, grabbing his wrist and pulling the offending extremity out from under your shirt.

“Apologies.” His tone implies that he’s not sorry at all, not that you would want him to be. “I simply couldn’t resist.”

He looks down at you with so much love in those blue eyes of his that you feel like you don’t think your mortal mind could ever truly comprehend it. Nobody has ever loved you the way that Morpheus has—all-consuming and passionate. He told you once that many of his relationships had ended because he had been seen as too intense, too obsessive in his love. Bring it on, you had told him when he expected you to back down. To date, you haven’t regretted that.

You don’t think you ever will.

Now that you can see the end of your night in sight, tiredness begins to seep into your bones. Though your bed is just right through the bathroom door, it feels miles away. With that in mind, you ask,  “Will you carry me?” 

“Were you not worried that you would feel sick?”

“Yeah, but I’m tired.” You pout (on purpose because you know what it does to him), and you can practically see his resolve break. “Just be careful?”

“Always,” he promises.

And careful he is, slowly picking you up and waiting until you nod to carry you to your bed. He sets you down gently, You’re thrilled to see a glass of water already waiting for you on your bedside table, Morpheus anticipating your needs before you’ve even realized you have them in the first place.

Crawling under the covers after finishing your water, you motion for Morpheus to sit next to you on the bed. He does as you ask, and you move your pillows so that you can sit up and lean on him. When you’re comfortable, you say, “Thank you for everything tonight. I know taking care of me wasn’t what you had planned.”

“You need not thank me. I enjoy caring for you, no matter the situation.” 

Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his hand carding through your hair, and you start to feel yourself inching closer to the Dreaming. Something keeps you from truly falling asleep, though, and when Morpheus shifts next to you, you realize what it is: the conversation’s not over. Morpheus is trying to figure out how to say what it is he wants to say.

Finally, he figures it out. “Might I ask you something?”

You open your eyes to give him your full attention and nod.

“Earlier, when you seemed surprised that I had noticed your absence. Did you do this,” ‘this’ being getting very drunk, “because of what I said?”

“No. I mean, I went out because I was mad at you, and I figured that me being a couple of hours late would make you learn your lesson, but I got drunk because I wanted to have fun with my friends and let loose.”

“And did you?”

“Maybe a little too much,” you admit cheekily.

“I apologize for my harsh words the other day. I have been…feeling burdened under the weight of my realm, and I took it out on you for no reason.”

“It’s okay, Morpheus. You’re busy running an entire realm and overseeing the collective unconscious. I shouldn’t be so needy.”

He shakes his head. “It is not okay. I should never talk to you in such a way, and you should never feel as though I do not want you around. I do want you around, always.”

“People say things that they don’t mean. That doesn’t mean they’re not worthy of forgiveness. But you gotta talk to me, okay? When you’re feeling stressed, or when things get to be too much. I’m here for you, and I want to support you however I can.”

“I love you,” he says. The fact that he’s being so open with his emotions is a pleasant surprise; it took him so long to be the first to say it, and even longer to be comfortable with it. You smile up at him.

“I love you, too. Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.”

Morpheus turns your bedroom light off without you needing to ask (seriously, you love him so much), and you close your eyes. Then, a thought hits you.

“Hey,” you say, staring up at him in the dark and waiting until he looks at you to continue. “Can you get drunk?”

“No.”

“Why not? I mean, isn’t there special alcohol for preternatural beings? You’d think gods and goddesses would’ve figured out a way to get turnt by now.”

Though he doesn’t want to give in to your rambling when you’re meant to be trying to fall asleep, he can’t help but indulge you. “Gods and goddesses can. We, the Endless, cannot.”

“What? That’s so fucking lame. No. That’s–that’s an injustice! I’m so sorry.

“I promise, it is okay. Now, please go to sleep.”

You nod, but close your eyes for maybe thirty seconds before they snap open again with a realization. “Wait.”

“What?”

“You mentioned other gods and goddesses. How many are there? Are they all real? Is actual God real? I mean, I know the devil is real, you kicked their ass for your helm, but for some reason that’s more believable than–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” Morpheus commands.

“Ugh, you’re no fun!”

“I am not afraid to use my sand if need be.”

“You wouldn’t.” You raise an eyebrow in challenge, and he raises one right back. After a brief stalemate, you’re the first to give in. “You have to understand how world-altering this information is to a regular human like me, I mean–”

You’re asleep before your head hits the pillow.

[adverbally]

We Can Lock the World Outside

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Moonlight” | wc: 979 | rated: G | cw: none | tags: migraine, chronic illness, hurt/comfort, author is a spoonie projecting onto Steve | title from “Sometimes” by Erasure

———

It’s dark out when Eddie gets home, which isn’t unusual. All the lights in the apartment are off, which is.

Juggling grocery bags from his stop on the way, Eddie has already let the door slam shut behind him by the time he becomes aware of the darkness surrounding him. “Stevie? I’m home!” he yells, flicking the light switch on with some awkward elbow maneuvering. The sudden brightness leaves him blinking across the room.

The large, blanket-covered lump on the couch shudders with a muffled groan.

Eddie cringes as he realizes his mistake. Steve must have a migraine.

He stretches his elbow out to shut the light back off before making his way to the kitchen in the dark. He puts the groceries away as quietly as he can and grabs a bag of frozen peas from the freezer before tip-toeing back into the living room.

In the moonlight shining through the cracks in the blinds, Eddie can make out the shape Steve curled up on the couch. Almost all of him is cocooned in the quilt from their bed, though he has left his nose and mouth visible. Even with most of his face covered, Eddie can tell that his expression is creased with pain.

Crouching down beside the couch, Eddie whispers, “I’m sorry, baby,” so quiet he’s not sure Steve hears him at first.

“S’okay, you didn’t know,” he mumbles back.

Eddie holds up the bag of frozen peas, knowing that Steve will recognize the smell and crinkling of the package even if he can’t see it.

“You’re the best.” He sounds so relieved and grateful for such a simple gesture. It kills Eddie that after all these years, Steve is still surprised when people take care of him.

Slowly and carefully, Eddie helps unwrap the blanket burrito enough that he can drape the bag of peas over Steve’s head. “Good?” he asks, trying to gauge if his placement was correct. At Steve’s affirmative noise, he tucks the quilt back into its original shape so the fabric will hold the cold pack in place.

“Thank you,” Steve croaks.

“They’ve been bad lately.” Eddie shifts out of his squat to sit cross-legged on the floor beside him.

Steve’s mouth twitches downward, barely visible in the moonlight. His next exhale comes as a shaky sigh. “Yeah. And getting worse.”

Eddie knows what that means - more frequent, more severe, more debilitating. “We gotta do something. Get you checked out, at least,” he suggests softly.

“I know,” Steve agrees, sounding utterly miserable. It’s a conversation they’ve had a few times– not just between the two of them, but also with many of the Party parents who have become concerned with Steve’s health.

Eddie knows how much Steve struggles with the migraines. It goes beyond the pain, though that’s no walk in the park. It’s the hours before when the level of noise in his classroom becomes overwhelming, when Steve’s vision starts to flicker and fuzz, when he becomes so nauseated that he sometimes has to camp out in the bathroom so he will be near the toilet. It’s even the days after, when he can still feel phantom traces of the pain like a bruise, when he’s too exhausted to move and his brain won’t cooperate with him.

But Eddie also knows that it’s difficult for Steve to find time during the school day to call around and ask about a consultation. He might even need to leave town to see a specialist, and then there will be bloodwork and scans and the hassle of dealing with the insurance company… It amounts to a Herculean task, even for someone healthy.

“I know,” Eddie parrots, hoping Steve can hear the sympathy and concern underlying the words.

He must, because Steve squirms within his quilted fortress until he’s able to stick his hand out through the opening he left for his face. Eddie takes Steve’s hand in both of his, rubbing circles into the soft skin with his thumbs before he leans down to kiss it.

“Do you think you can eat something? I can bring you some toast, maybe a banana if they’re still good?”

Steve frowns. “Maybe in a little while. I don’t know if I can sit up yet.”

“Did you take any painkillers?” Eddie is pretty sure he already knows the answer based on the bottle of Tylenol that was left on the kitchen counter.

“Yeah.” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hands before tucking his arm back into his nest. “I’m just gonna enjoy my frozen peas and maybe nap a little more.”

“I can sit with you, if you want,” Eddie offers. They’ve spent hours and hours doing that, with Steve sprawled out across the couch, his head in Eddie’s lap while he rubs his back through the blankets.

Steve ducks his head a little so he can see Eddie through the opening of his cocoon. In the cool glow of the moonlight, the dark shadows and tension beneath his eyes are more pronounced. He looks utterly exhausted. “You don’t mind?”

Eddie makes eye contact with Steve as deliberately as possible. “I never mind taking care of you.” It doesn’t seem to have sunk in at any point in the last seven years, but Eddie will never stop reminding Steve that he’s not a burden.

Carefully, Eddie helps Steve leverage his body into a partially-upright position that leaves room for Eddie to sit on the couch, then guides him back to recline with his head on Eddie’s thigh. The bag of frozen peas makes Eddie’s hip cold, even through the layers of the quilt. They probably have about half an hour before the thawing peas make a mess and Eddie’s stomach starts to growl. But for now, he’s content to sit in the dark with Steve, petting his shoulder, watching the quilt’s fabric shift under the light of the moon.

[ackermai07]

Hi! Could you write a one shot for Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima where the class is watching a movie or something at the dorms and their crush falls asleep on them? I can see the boys getting all blushy when she unconsciously snuggles up closer to them 🥰🥰

Thank you!

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ˢᵒ ᵃᵈᵒʳᵒᵇᵃˡᵉ ⁱ ᶜᵃⁿᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗᵗ ᵘᵍʰʰʰʰʰ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗⁱᵉ ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸ ⁱᵗ

wearning! : pure fluff

Don't repost please!!

"Is everyone ready?"

Mina shouted, making sure everything was set and everyone was prepared.

In short, what was happening was that tomorrow is a holiday, and after a tiring week, the girls suggested the idea of watching a movie (the kind you like), staying up late, and enjoying themselves to compensate for the positive energy lost through training and studying, and of course, everyone agreed.

𝗕𝗮𝗸𝘂𝗴𝗼𝘂 𝗞𝗮𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗸𝗶

The surprise was how this early-to-bed, serious guy had actually agreed to this silly movie night offer, but of course, no one dared to comment on it (they didn't want to be the reason for him changing his mind).

"Tsk... why on earth did I agree to watch this stupid movie in the first place," Bakugo muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where the movie was playing. Truthfully, he knew the reason he was here- 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

Bakugo had always admired your confident, composed, and intelligent personality, to the point where he found himself gradually falling for you, struggling to break free from its grasp.

Another annoyed sigh escaped his lips, feigning irritation as usual, but deep down, he was genuinely happy to be sitting next to you on the couch, able to inhale your soothing scent.

It didn't take another minute before he felt a weight on his shoulder. His eyebrow raised in confusion, and when he turned his head to see, he was met with your lovely, soft face resting on his shoulder. The boy swore he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest, and for a moment, he stopped thinking, just staring at you with flushed cheeks, thankfully unnoticed in the dimmed lights.

"Oi... you," he said in his rough tone, which seemed calmer, then lightly shrugs trying to wake you up. "You'll miss the damn movie... wake up."

Meanwhile, all he got in response was a sleepy nuzzle from you, moving closer to hug his side more, enjoying the warmth emanating from him.

Poor Bakugo stopped his movements and froze in place for about a few minutes. The first to notice was Kirishima, who turned to see what was up with his friend.

"Hey Baku-bro, what's wro..."

And there Kirishima caught sight of your sleeping form next to him, a wide grin spreading across his face. Even before he spoke, Bakugo silently gestured to him, thus ensuring he stayed close to you for a longer period.

He absentmindedly played with your hair, eliciting contented hums from you, which seemed to draw the attention of the entire class towards you two. Oh, and don't worry about any commotion; once Bakugo gives them the death glare, they'll turn away without saying a word.

(half of the class has fallen asleep already, anyway).

By the end of the movie, he didn't even realize he had fallen asleep, his head resting on yours, inhaling your refreshing scent and feeling your warmth.

(This incident might actually serve as a strong incentive for him to hurry up and confess to you as soon as possible).

𝗧𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶 𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗼

It was known that Shoto often found himself in these kinds of nights, spending time with his friends, and with you, the love of his life.

Both of you attended the same middle school, and there were many clashes between you, but at that time, Shoto was only focused on his deep-seated hatred for his father.

Now, at U.A. High School, he found the time to develop his feelings for you, thus becoming immersed in love for you.

And there he was now, on the floor in front of the TV, covered with blankets for comfortable seating. You were sitting beside him, and oh, how difficult it was for him to focus on the movie content with you so close.

He also threw sidelong glances at you, admiring your focused face on the screen, and your slightly parted lips from concentrating so hard on the events. Honestly, he wished desperately to overwhelm your lips with kisses until you couldn't breathe (you can't really blame him).

As he was lost in his fantasies, he suddenly felt something descending onto his lap. And guess what? It was your head being placed on his lap.

The poor boy's brain stopped functioning as he tried to process what had just happened.

(He also felt like his heart stopped for a moment.)

"Y/n... y-you okay?" Shoto whispered softly to you, making sure only you could hear him, and his hand moved to brush a strand of hair away from your face, while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks.

The poor boy wasn't used to being affectionate :(

"Very... sleepy," was your only response as you hugged his waist and snuggled closer to his left side where warmth emanated.

Let's say he miraculously managed to control his quirk so as not to accidentally hurt you.

Meanwhile, the boy's heart swelled with emotions, and he found himself gently stroking your hair, a small smile adorning his handsome face.

And as soon as the movie ended, he carried you bridal-style and took you to your room under Momo's guidance, making sure not to wake you up at all.

On the other hand, he couldn't sleep a wink that night, but be prepared to receive the most beautiful confession in your life soon.

Bonus points: His desire to kiss you became unbearable.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗺𝗮 𝗘𝗶𝗷𝗶𝗿𝘂𝗼

He was one of the biggest supporters of the idea, especially since you were the one who suggested it, so of course he would always support your opinion.

He always did, seeing you as a fun person who radiated warmth like the sun, an optimistic personality he fell for boundlessly.

You were always a source of inspiration for him with your positive energy, encouraging him and praising his perseverance, and in return, he gave you the brightest smile.

His friends somehow learned about his secret admiration for you (Mina was the reason... ahem)

and they always tried to involve you both more to bring you closer together.

This event was no different as they made sure you two were close to each other, leaving the couch for you to sit on together.

(Kaminari was included to sit next to Kirishima just to make it less suspicious.)

Now, in the middle of the movie, just like Shoto, he couldn't focus at all.

He was just captivated by the little sounds you made whenever an exciting scene came up or your eyes sparkled with interest at what was shown on the screen in front of you.

He was literally in his own world, worshiping your facial expressions and your gentle demeanor.

But at some point, he stopped paying attention to you, replacing it with discussing the details of the movie with Kaminari. Then, in a sudden moment, he felt something land on his chest... it was your head.

The boy quickly covered his mouth to suppress the scream that was about to burst from the depths of his heart.

In contrast to the two above, he had a quick response as he gently shook your shoulder.

"Y/n, y-you awake?" His voice came out as a somewhat quiet tune, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Sorry... feeling sleepy... just... a little nap." After that, you held onto his arm and used his muscular chest as a pillow, drifting back to sleep.

Because of your action, his quirk activated for a few seconds, and he slapped his own face out of embarrassment and happiness he felt.

Your sudden move caught the red-haired boy off guard to the point he didn't know how to react :(

"Yes, of course... it wouldn't be manly of me to move and disturb you," he muttered to himself in embarrassment, stiffening in his position before wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

But he forgot about Kaminari, who saw everything and struggled to suppress his laughter as he ran away, catching the attention of the class, only to stare at both of you in awe and admiration.

All I can say is that by tomorrow, you'll see plenty of pictures taken of you sleeping on Kirishima, and his friends endlessly teasing him about it.

Then get ready for his confession of his feelings for you.

ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ

ⁱ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᵉᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ

sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ!

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.

[erinkeifer]

The Informant Pt. II

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Part I | Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3

Summary: After that turbulent night, he had one simple task for you - to make it to training in one piece. Was it really that problematic? Perhaps... However, the real troubles lie ahead of you...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI | hate sex | slapping | blowjob | deepthroating | PiV unprotected | cursing | degradation | dom!Anakin | sub!Reader | no comfort | no aftercare | threats | force choking/regular choking | angst Author Note: I don't know if I've ever written a story after which I got as many requests for Part II as The Informant. Uni, changes in life, and the chaos of Essen Comic Con made writing exceptionally difficult for me, but one day I simply sat down in focus and decided to give it my all to deliver your request in the best possible version. ♡ Word Count: 4,4k

How fortunate that droids don't ask too many questions. You thought to yourself, lying on the medical chair as the mechanical creatures stitched up the cut on your brow.

“This might hurt a bit.” you heard faintly as the needle with the painkiller approached, but it made no difference to you—this single prick was no different from the pain you had been feeling up until now.

“Will you be able to get to your quarters on your own? Or should we send help…”

“No. I’ll manage.” you interrupted the droid without hesitation. Hearing your statement, it quickly returned to its work.

“Fortunately, the wound isn't infected, but we've administered an anti-inflammatory as a precaution. The stitches should be removed…”

“Yes, thank you, I know… It's not my first time.” you interrupted the droid in as calm a tone as you could muster as you began to rise from the chair.

“Please take care of yourself.” added the droid, setting aside the tools it had used on you, as you walked towards the exit of the medical wing.

“Sure, thanks.” you mumbled in a confused tone as the automatic doors to the room closed behind you, and ahead of you lay only the dark, grim corridor, its details blurring before your eyes.

You felt drowsy and could slowly feel the effects of the painkillers administered by the droids. You never reacted well to them, but this time, you felt even worse. You barely noticed when you managed to shuffle to your quarters, luckily on the same floor. Despite your daze, you did manage to close the door this time. Without changing or even taking off your boots, you simply collapsed onto your bed and fell asleep so quickly that your body barely registered it.

And that was the most painful mistake. …………………………………………………………………………………………………..

You usually woke up for training with the alarm you set before sleeping, but this time, your eyes opened only when the sun was already rising above the skyscrapers visible from your window. It was almost noon. Yes, noon—more than four hours had passed since your training was supposed to start. As soon as you realized this, your face turned ashen pale. Although you instinctively knew it was too late and that Anakin had probably long since left the training room, maybe even the temple, you jumped nervously out of bed. Trying to disguise your disheveled morning appearance, you threw on a loose, brown cloak. Breathless, without even glancing in the mirror, you rushed out of your quarters, leaving the door ajar behind you, and started running—not even knowing where you should go at that moment.

“Hey! Young lady!” You heard a familiar male voice just before you nearly collided with a figure standing in your path, clad in Jedi robes.

“Sorry, I…I just…” you began to stammer breathlessly when you looked up to see the sympathetic gaze of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

The older Jedi's hands landed gently on your shoulders in a calming gesture. Although finding calm was difficult in your current state, deep down, you were grateful that you had run into Kenobi along the way. Perhaps only he could help you catch your breath and offer a bit of comfort in that moment.

“Easy now, breathe in and out…” the elder Jedi began, and you nervously lowered your gaze as his eyes seemed to read your face like a book.

“What’s the rush? Oh… This doesn’t look good… How many were there?” Kenobi continued after a moment, and you could barely hide your evident confusion. Who does he mean?

“Are you talking about…?” you began to brainstorm frantically in your mind, gesturing chaotically with your index finger as Kenobi looked at you with a mix of confusion and sympathy.

“Trauma or painkillers? Last night, I met Anakin and he mentioned that a gang in Coruscant got out of control…” Of course… Anakin’s excuse was a plausible way out. How else could he explain to his master why he was wandering the corridors at night with disheveled hair, tattered robes, and his Padawan’s blood on his hands?

“Ah, right… Honestly, I don’t know… It all happened so fast, and I’m not sure if…” you began to explain chaotically, but Obi-Wan could see you were straining yourself trying to piece things together.

“Okay, calm down. Anyway, I’m glad you were in the right place at the right time—one can never know what dangers lurk around the corner—not just for the Order, but for ordinary civilians too.” Kenobi explained as if trying to fill in the gaps in your thoughts, though he didn’t address the real concern gnawing at you—how much trouble you were actually in.

"Master Kenobi… I know, but… Yes… I just wanted to ask if Anakin is okay after that incident… I couldn’t make it to training today, so I didn’t have a chance to check if everything’s alright…" you replied, trying to tactfully skirt around your real question.

"Since when do Padawans look after their Masters' safety? Oh, heavens… Things were never this good in my day…" Kenobi responded in a light-hearted tone, which did little to satisfy you. But when he noticed your serious expression, waiting for more, he began to recall his morning encounter with Anakin.

"I thought he wouldn't plan anything for the morning after a rough night, but he was safe and sound when I saw him briefly in the training hall… I had some duties, but I'm quite sure he left after an hour or so…"

"Was he… angry?" you asked, and Kenobi narrowed his eyes in visible confusion.

"Angry..? Should he have been?" he replied after a moment of contemplation.

"Never mind… Just… Do you know where I might find him right now? I just want to…"

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Kenobi interrupted, noticing and sensing your unease.

"No. But I might be if I don’t find out where he is." you answered with a grave seriousness. The older Jedi sighed, his expression puzzled as if debating whether he should answer your question.

“If I should intervene, just let me know and…”

“Master, there’s no reason to intervene. All I want is an answer to this simple question… You were a Padawan once, and then Anakin… Both of you must have felt, at times, like you messed up or were trying to salvage things because you thought you’d upset your Mentor.” you clarified, and Kenobi’s expression softened as he processed your words, seeming to drift momentarily into his own thoughts.

“Anakin declined the meeting in the council chamber. I suspect he’s gone to his quarters.” Kenobi replied after a moment's thought. You nodded in thanks and were about to head off in the intended direction when you felt the older Jedi’s hand on your shoulder.

“I know you should face your problems on your own, but remember, if anything goes wrong, you can count on me.” Kenobi said, making one last eye contact with you.

“Yes, Master. Thank you…” You replied with a faint but uncertain smile, which was quickly reciprocated. You felt Kenobi’s hand finally slide off your shoulder as he nodded to you and started to walk in the opposite direction.

Without waiting any longer and trying not to arouse any suspicion, you set off with a determined but slightly nervous pace toward Anakin's quarters. Your emotions were conflicted—a part of you felt indifferent, thinking you couldn’t bring any more disgrace upon yourself, while another part urged you to stop before facing him again.

Which part you would listen to was entirely up to you, but as you realized you had a choice, you were already gripping the handle to his quarters.

You pulled on the door, which wasn’t even fully closed—as if left ajar for an expected guest. In that moment, you felt he knew. He knew you would come back. That’s why he was there, waiting.

Coruscant was shimmering in the sunlight at this hour, and the city’s streets were bustling with life. Yet, neither the sunlight nor the city’s energy could be seen through the carefully drawn curtains. The darkness in the room was unsettling, but it wasn’t the fear of the dark that stunned you as you crossed the threshold into the main chamber.

“The door.” you heard from in front of you, and the harshness of the voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Close. The door. Behind you.” the voice repeated as you stood frozen in the doorway. The ominous emphasis on those words made you shut the door without further hesitation, but you soon realized that wasn’t enough.

“Lock it.” he continued, but instead of acting, you stared at his back for a moment longer than necessary.

Anakin sat at his desk, wearing the familiar robes with a long brown cloak draped over his shoulders, its hood resting messily. Since you stepped into his quarters, he hadn’t looked at you once, but you didn’t need to see his eyes to feel the coldness, frustration, and tension radiating from your master. You might have wondered if your actions had caused him to be so devastated today, but the chaos you sensed in his mind went far beyond your conflict.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” His increasingly frustrated tone jolted you enough that, without waiting another second, you turned the key twice, locking the door.

As you noticed Anakin’s silhouette move from his seat, you straightened up, feeling as if every muscle in your body tensed simultaneously. Anakin rose from his place, and with his hands clasped behind his back, he walked slowly toward you. For a moment, his gaze was fixed on the floor, but when it finally landed on you, you saw a contrived pity and disdain. The kind of “pity” that isn’t for the innocent. A “pity” mixed with the anticipation of delivering a deserved punishment.

"Get on your knees."

You were too flustered to quickly comply - and that was your mistake. The moment he noticed your mouth opening to speak, and your knees not bending - he was quick to motivate you even more.

"Did I say it clearly? On. Your. Fucking. Knees."

You heard something in his voice that was inhuman. It felt as though something alien had possessed Skywalker, but you couldn’t tell if you were frightened by it or strangely energized. Maybe it was recklessness, or perhaps your inherent tendency to defy everything, but your legs stood firm, as if rooted to the ground, and your lack of response only added to Anakin's growing tension.

“I don’t think I made myself clear…”

He added in an unusually low voice, then turned on his heel and walked back toward his desk, his hands still clasped behind his back. Despite everything, you didn’t move a muscle—your eyelids froze, locked on every movement of Skywalker’s as if you were instinctively watching for a trap or threat in the seemingly calm motions of your Master.

And this time, your instincts didn’t fail you. Although you stood your ground, your knees suddenly began to weaken—not from fatigue, but from a strange shift in pressure that shot through you from head to lungs.

You were suffocating.

You could no longer focus on Anakin’s movements as your hands instinctively grabbed at your throat, trying to force air back into your lungs. In doing so, you didn’t notice Anakin’s clenched hand at his side, even though it was what was affecting you.

You struggled with yourself for several seconds until your legs finally gave way beneath you, and you felt your knees hit the floor.

At that moment, relief came abruptly.

As your lungs slowly began to fill with air again, you still heard the ringing in your ears, typical of a sudden change in pressure within your body. However, it didn’t stop you from hearing the sound of metal clashing with wood—Anakin’s lightsaber hilt, which he had just taken from his desk.

You audibly swallowed as your eyes lifted towards your Master, holding the unignited weapon, and he, with an indescribable, stony expression, locked eyes with you. Finally, instead of standing opposite his desk, he turned his entire figure towards you and with alarmingly slow steps, moved in your direction, making no move with the lightsaber.

Not yet.

“Don’t worry…”

He began in a hushed voice, and his free hand slowly reached towards your face. He saw fear in your eyes—not of him, but more so of the weapon he inexplicably held. You stared at it with wide eyes, tracking every micro-movement of Anakin's hand, as if he might ignite it at any moment.

“I won’t let you die… At least not until you’re useful enough and…”

He spoke with a slowed, seemingly calming voice as he brought the lightsaber hilt closer to your face.

“…Obedient.”

The metal, cold hilt touched your warm skin, and you involuntarily flinched, feeling as though someone had pressed a gun to your temple. Anakin handled it as if it were a caress for you. You felt the coolness of the material on your cheek, jaw, until finally, the metal tip of the hilt rested against your lips.

"Open."

He murmured closer to your face, his knees bending so he could lean towards you and look into your eyes. Your lips trembled, and Anakin could see that you wouldn't quickly respond to his requests, so his free hand moved closer to your face, eventually resting 'motivationally' under your chin to urge you to open your mouth.

"Come on…"

He added after a moment of impatience, yet his tone wasn't bitter—it sounded as though he wanted to give you a chance—and though you didn't want to show yourself to your Master, you were absolutely prepared to accept it. Finally, your lips parted as he wanted, and for the first time in a long while, a disturbing smile appeared on Anakin's face.

"Good girl."

He said, lifting the corner of his mouth, and at the same time, you felt the cold, metal hilt slipping into your mouth, teasing your sensitive palate with its texture.

"You see… It doesn't have to be bad between us."

He said, rotating the hilt in your mouth as if he wanted you to feel it from every angle.

"And that's all, if you behave nicely…"

He lowered his voice to a whisper, making another turn inside your mouth.

"I won't have to hurt you…"

"…And you won't have to be a little, treacherous bitch."

He finished with a mocking smile on his face as he pushed the metal hilt a bit further than before, triggering a gag reflex in you.

"Ironic, isn't it?"

He chuckled lightly, and seeing you tense up from his actions, he withdrew the weapon from your mouth, then did something that couldn't quite be explained.

"Look…"

He said, placing the lightsaber hilt on the floor by your feet, then straightened up and took two slow steps back.

"You have one last chance to escape. You can use this to attack me. You can do whatever you want…"

After his words, which shook you slightly, the room fell into dead silence. You had no idea what was happening or what to do with yourself, so finally, you decided to use your own voice.

"But?"

Anakin smiled with slight regret at your question. You knew there was a catch to this, and you were certain that in your current situation, Skywalker wouldn't simply let you escape, let alone allow you to harm him.

"But if you run now and don't hide well enough…"

He folded his hands behind his back and began to slowly move away, simultaneously lowering his gaze from you as if giving you the opportunity to attack him.

"And if I or my people find you… I'll order you to be killed on the spot."

After uttering the last sentence, Anakin looked you in the eye as if he had just started a stopwatch and was waiting for your appropriate reaction.

"Decide."

He stated and once again dismissed you from his attention as if implying that this could really be an easy opportunity for an attack.

Your eyes wandered from place to place. You glanced at the lightsaber lying next to you, then at your Master—and though you could do something at this moment—your hands didn't even flinch. For some reason, this question seemed absurd to you. You had always been fixated on Anakin, always begged for his attention, and the mere fact that after last night you had decided to knock on his quarters made you realize that for you there was never any other answer than "I stay."

Anakin knew this very well, too.

"I won't leave." you assured, your head slightly bowed, feeling Skywalker's gaze settle on you after a few seconds.

"Hm?" He replied, seeming unsure if you meant it, yet sensing your resolve. He knew he had you wrapped around his finger.

"I don't want to go." you reiterated. After hearing your words again, Skywalker turned towards you and took a slow step closer.

"I hope you realize there's no turning back from here." he stated, his gloved hand approaching your face in an oddly tender manner. You nodded, meeting his gaze, sensing that Anakin was no longer just your mentor.

He has power over you.

"Good." he muttered, withdrawing his hand from your face and directing his gaze to the lightsaber still lying beside you.

"Give it to me… Attach it to my belt."

He ordered firmly, and you looked down at him with a gaze full of doubt, but his impatient stare didn't allow you to kneel any longer. As Anakin took a step forward, his belt was at the level of your face, and trembling, you reached for the weapon lying on the floor, clumsily hanging it on the leather belt. You constantly felt his gaze on you, focused like never before, hungry like never before—and just as hungry, impatient.

"Unfasten." Skywalker's hoarse voice resonated, and for a few seconds, you felt almost paralyzed.

"What? Unfasten. Now."

After his more impatient and ominous command, your hands moved immediately, trembling almost more than before. You weren't sure if it was the pressure of time hanging over your head, simple stress, or the growing… excitement within you. For some reason, you excluded fear. You weren't afraid. Not of Anakin. And you would swear you were ready to obey his every command.

"I see, I see… Soon you won't need to use your hands, I promise you that." Anakin said with a sneer, watching you struggle with his belt, but patiently waiting for you to finish on your own, without his assistance. The belt initially resisted—only when you accidentally found the right spot to press and release the buckle did the tightly held parts of his attire loosen as the undone belt revealed the tense fly of his pants.

"Continue." murmured Skywalker, and this time, knowing perfectly how to deal with the clasp of his trousers, you revealed his…

"Anakin… You're already har…"

"Shut up!"

He didn't even let you finish. He had no intention. He seized the opportunity as quickly as he could, thrusting into your mouth while your lips were still parted in speech.

"Keep your hands to yourself. Don't even try anything. It'll only get worse."

Though it was hard for Anakin to consider it pleasurable for you, you simply felt it. You were ready to shed tears from your eyes as he penetrated your throat in a way that hindered your functioning - to say it was a vision that had long formed in your mind.

"I give, you take. Understood?"

Skywalker spoke, trying unsuccessfully to conceal heavy breaths and sighs between words. When you tried to nod in agreement, your nose was almost pressed against his lower abdomen, and for a fraction of a second, you looked up at him communicatively from below, but shortly after, you impulsively closed your eyes, feeling his size exceeding your boundaries. "Fuck!"

Anakin began to pant as if he could no longer hide the fact that his body was reacting to what you were doing. You couldn't see it, but his gloved hand clenched, affecting you in a way you couldn't predict.

His hips, initially motionless, involuntarily began to thrust, as if he could press even deeper into your throat, but it was no longer possible. Anakin, however, had a ready solution. You felt a tightening in your throat, much like when he had used his power before to force you to kneel.

"Exactly like that. Fuck. Take it. I said, take it!"

He snarled through gritted teeth, smiling sinisterly and somehow proudly that he was fucking your throat like a fleshlight. Initially disorientation prevented your body from reacting to the sudden, numbing sensation, but after a few more thrusts, uncontrollable reflexes began to surface, indicating that Anakin was pushing the limits of your endurance. You choked, your eyes watering, but it wasn't a significant signal for him.

Impulsively, you gritted your teeth.

"You slut!"

Anakin growled loudly, then withdrew from you, and in the next moment, everything around you started to blur, and you felt pain.

Sudden pain.

Out of nowhere, after your throat released, and after a mixture of precum and your saliva dripped down your chin, Anakin slapped you across the cheek with an open hand.

"Is this how you want to play? Then let's fucking play."

Your mind was still foggy as you felt yourself no longer touching the ground. Anakin forcefully lifted you from the floor, tossing you clumsily over his shoulder. As your vision began to clear, you collided with the bed in the adjacent room.

"I'm sorry, I won't…"

"Not now."

Skywalker interrupted, forcefully stripping away what you had on. He had no intention of romanticizing anything. He didn't care to strip you completely naked; he wanted access.

So instead of playing the undressing game, he left scraps of fabric on you. His strong hands tore the fronds of your bra, exposing your breasts to view, before ripping apart your elastic training pants, which offered no resistance due to their material.

"Now that we know how easy it is to shut you up… Now you can fucking scream."

You lay flat on your back as Anakin climbed onto you, and after lifting your thigh, he thrust into you without warning. You emitted an almost animalistic scream when you felt that not only did he push himself into you to full length, but he had no intention of starting slowly.

"I knew you were going to leak, little bitch. I fucking knew it!"

Anakin uttered in a growling voice, imposing such a pace that he had to interrupt almost every word with panting. His thrusts were very fast and deep from the very beginning. His tip was hitting your cervix, with the full guarantee that tomorrow you would wake up bruised from the inside. But did it really matter?

Anakin's gaze was wild and hungry, but although you could tell he was clouded by his lust to unload, he was still able to read your emotions perfectly. You were writhing and moaning-you couldn't string a sentence together, but Skywalker could see without words that you were deriving pleasure from your brutal teaching, so he allowed himself more and more.

You didn't know if it was an impulse or your usual thoughtlessness, but taking advantage of the fact that your body wasn't yet completely impaled on the bed, your head lifted as if to reach his mouth.

"Are you kidding me, slut!?"

Suddenly, Anakin howled in a raised voice, very quickly bringing you back to your place. Skywalker took his hand off your hip and pressed you against the pillow, gripping your neck tightly.

"In your dreams… Fuck… In your dreams."

He muttered, breathing heavily over your face as you clenched your eyes shut from the sudden pressure. Those were Anakin's words once again, echoing in your head ironically, because, contrary to appearances, it was here and now that your dream was coming true. One of the most abstract, vulgar, and animalistic thoughts that had ever crossed your mind.

You melted as you listened to his heavy breaths, his growls and moans that pushed you to the edge along with the brutal thrusts you were receiving with pleasure.

Well, not just you.

Up until now stable, Anakin's hand, which had been firmly immobilized on your neck, began to tremble, and his thrusts were no longer as rhythmic as before. A growl escaped his vocal cords that you had never heard before, and his other hand, which had been holding you in place so far, gripped your body in a bruising hold.

A current of electricity ran through your body, preventing you from further controlling the situation. You didn't even feel the moment when the warm fluid flooded your insides, and Anakin, though trying to distance himself before his orgasm, let his head fall towards your neck, where his sweaty strands of tousled hair rested.

You both reached the climax, and your dizziness caused total darkness to fall around you, with only a ringing in your ears and Anakin's heavy breaths. It took a while for both of you to synchronize your breaths, and you wanted to close your eyes to momentarily disconnect from the sensations, but it didn't last long until Skywalker's breathless voice reached your ears again.

"From now on, it will be like this every day…"

He uttered those words with extraordinary gravity, then paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

"But don't worry… You'll get used to it quickly."

You absorbed each of his words with acceptance, and his heated hand that held your neck began to touch your face.

"Every day, I will break you down just as you broke me… And you will accept it with humility."

Although a sense of unease began to creep over your body, you continued to listen.

"I will fulfill your dream of being close to me every day. I will prove to you every day how wrong you were about me…"

You did so with unease, but upon hearing those words, you directed your gaze towards him to see him staring straight at you with deadly seriousness.

"And if you ever have enough… If you ever want to escape from me… Even at the end of the world...

…I will find you."

[azsazz]

Change Your Ticket

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,264

Notes: I'm overthinking this now, I don't think I like it

_________________________________________

There’s no better way to wake up than buttery morning light drifting through the curtains, songbirds chirping outside cracked windows, and the warmth of your significant other surrounding you.

Unfortunately, that isn’t how you wake.

You wake up to the sound of your alarm, blaring its cheerful tune much too early in the morning. The sun isn’t shining in through your windows, rousing you from a deep slumber. Instead, thunder cracks loudly, drowning out the grating chimes coming from your phone, only for a second, before it sounds louder, alerting you that you have places to be.

Namely, at the airport, and not in the lovely muscular arms of your boyfriend in bed.

His cozy hold makes you want to sigh, snuggle backwards into him and sleep for a few more hours, but the blaring of your phone makes that difficult, even with the taunt of his morning wood brushing up against your backside.

Groaning, you slide from his arms. It’s a struggle, because his muscular limbs are heavy, but you manage to shove yourself from under the thick arm covered in swirling ink, stretching as far as you can in hopes to turn your phone off.

Another bout of thunder rumbles in the sky and you startle, knocking your phone over the edge of the table. It clangs loudly and you cringe, peering over your shoulder at Cassian. His eyes are shut and his chest moves up and down rhythmically. You sigh, shoulders relaxing at the sight of his bare chest, gaze snaking down his strong body to where the cuts of his hips dip under the sheets. Your mouth waters a little, but before you can make the move to slide the blankets back and get a full look, your phone sends out another screeching knell and you nearly dive from the bed to shut it off.

The time mocks you when the sound no longer does. It’s an ungodly hour and you’re hardly coherent, eyes gritty with sleep and hair curling in tangled waves around your face. You shove it back, collapsing for a moment, half off of the bed.

Warm hands search blindly in the bed before latching onto your waist, tugging you back into his solid body. You squeal as you’re so easily maneuvered, and it makes butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach.

Cassian grunts softly, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck. It’s early and he’s just as disturbed by your phone as he is. Neither of you have slept much at all, and with the warmth of his body holding tightly to yours, you find yourself resting your head against his, shutting your eyes and breathing in the scent of him—a comforting freshness cut with an earthy pine—drifting back into a light slumber.

Your eyes snap open later, something rocking you to your core. Not just something, the flight you’re supposed to be on, at the airport you should be at, sitting in your window seat and missing the body of your boyfriend next to you.

Cursing, you throw the covers back, ignoring the grunt Cassian lets out as you accidentally elbow him in the chest. You lunge for your phone, but it’s not on the side table where you’d left it. Fuck, you remember knocking it off and having to lean over the side of the bed to turn off your goddamn alarm when you should’ve hit snooze. You’re going to pay now; your mind supplies drily.

Frantically searching, you find it in the pile of clothes you’d left on the floor. Lifting your jeans to tug them on, it slips, clattering against the hardwood floors again. You don’t have time to wince, wonder if the screen is cracked, snatching it up and checking the time.

Holy fuck, are you late.

Shoving the phone back into your pocket, you scramble to get ready, tugging a black t-shirt over your head from the mound at your feet. It’s pools around you but you’re in no mood to care, shoving it into the waistband of your pants and stuffing your feet into last night’s socks. You grimace as you do so, the feeling of dirty socks making your toes curl. Switching with Cassian would be better, though they’d be scrunched in your shoes and you’d be tripping over them at the airport.

The sky is still dark with cloud cover, but there is no longer frantic lighttight brightening the sky, nor rumbles of thunder that would have delayed your flight. You haven’t gotten an update about it being late due to the nature of the storm, so it must be on time.

Perfect.

The heap of blankets on the bed jostles, and Cassian’s sitting up. The fabric falls from his torso like a waterfall of white, striking against his tan skin. As much as you’d love to climb right up onto him and wake him properly, you’re in too much of a rush to allow the aroused side of your mind to take over.

“Sweetheart?” he asks sleepily. His hair is mused from where you’d had your hands buried in it last night, and he brushes it from his eyes roughly, using the hair tie around his wrist to tie it back haphazardly. Cassian blinks around the room, hazel eyes clearing as he meets your panic-stricken gaze. “Where are you going?”

“I’m late for my flight,” you reply breathlessly, hopping on one foot to slip your shoe on.

“You’re leaving already?” Cassian asks with a frown. His voice is groggy with the aftermath of sex and sleep. It sends shockwaves zipping down between your thighs. “It’s only been two days.”

You sigh, forcing your other foot into the shoe. You know it’s only been two days since you’ve gotten into town for Cassian’s match, but you have to get back to work tomorrow, there’s just too much to do.

It’s difficult when he’s in the middle of the rugby season and you have to work. It’s hard to find the time to chat or even text sometimes, but the both of you love your work and couldn’t imagine giving it up. You do what you can to be at Cassian’s games. He flies you in privately and you meet at the hotel or the pitch, cheering from the stands with the other fans of the Velairs Stars, Cassian’s rugby team. But then you have to fly back home, only to do it again the next weekend over.

It's draining, which is why you’ve overslept like a damn fool.

“I have to go,” you answer, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. Your carry-on sits packed by the door. “I have work in the morning.”

“Take that bag off of your shoulder,” Cassian pouts.

You groan, turning to look at him. “I can’t, Cass, I’m really late.”

Cassian slides from the bed. The duvet slips from his body, revealing the entirety of his naked body. He’s built like a Greek statue, minus the tiny cock. His tan body ripples with muscle and ink—broad shoulders to hard abs to his taut waist, down to thick thighs and a half-hard cock that twitches when your eyes roam over it.

Your cheeks heat and you turn your head away, gazing at the floor.

Cassian’s feet enter your line of vision and then his hands are on your cheeks, tilting your head up to face him.

You stare into those soft eyes, green and brown clashing like a tornado in the woods. His pink lips are turned down, the crease between his brow in concern something you never like to see on his face.

A strand of his hair tickles your cheek as he dips down, thumbs brushing soothing stripes across your skin.

“Please, don’t leave.”

Your heart cracks in your chest at the sincerity of his words. Your body slackens, tipping into his. You place a hand over his wrist, holding him just as he is you, and you let out a deep sigh. “I can’t. I really have to go.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, only tucks you tighter to his chest as if he may never let you go. You press up to the tips of your toes, catching him in a soft kiss. You can taste his yearning, missing you from miles away. The absence of him from your side, from your apartment, preferring your quaint place to his bachelor pad in the thick of the city. He’d disrupted your life in the best way, and it’s different to be by yourself in the place you’d spent so much time alone, before Cassian came rumbling in on a gust of autumn air with trophies the size of your head and rugby uniforms that never seemed to stay clean.

When you pull away you don’t stray far, placing your head on his chest. His heartbeat strums loudly, comfortingly as he places his chin onto you, hugging you tight.

And its bliss, the both of you tucked together like this. You don’t ever want to let him go but this is reality and you both have lives outside of each other, outside of this little bubble of heaven you’ve created for the two nights you were staying here. Cassian feels like coming home.

“At least let me walk you down,” he says finally.

You huff, pulling back to look up at him. He towers over you and you have to crane your neck back to meet his gaze. “As much as I would love that, you can’t. We can’t be seen together,” you remind him softly.

Cassian rolls his eyes, twining his fingers with yours as he leads you into the main room of the suite. It’s a lovely hotel, but eventually, all of the rooms start to blur together. There’s an empty bottle of victory champagne tipped over on the couch, your still half-full glass precariously perched on the edge of the coffee table from when Cassian could no longer control himself and your bubbly, giggly kisses turned into something hotter and heavier.

“I don’t care about any of that stuff, sweetheart. I just want to be able to show you off.”

“Well, I care,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not ready to tell the world yet.”

You spot your bra flung over the lampshade and grab for it, but Cassian’s quicker, taking it and hiding it behind his back with a cheeky grin.

“If you want it back, you’ll have to come get it. Two weeks, we’re playing the Sealions in Adirata.”

“Cassian,” you sigh, trying to reach around his thick torso for your bra. “I don’t know if I can make it—”

“You will,” he says, pecking you on the nose. You glare up at him but he’s grinning like a fool. “I need my best cheerleader there.”

You want to grumble that he never really can find you in the crowd. You don’t sit with the other players’ girlfriends or families because your relationship with the superstar athlete is your best kept secret. You aren’t ready for any of the drama that comes along with dating a public figure, and Cassian knows this, accepts it because he loves you.

“I’ll try,” you amend, and you don’t think his smile can get any bigger but it does. Cassian swoops down to kiss you on the lips. The eagerness takes your breath away and makes you clench your thighs together, his intrigued cock still seeking you out.

“Good,” he seems satisfied with your answer, unhooking the handle and raising it. He scoots your roller out of the way when you go to reach for it, tsking. “Let me help you with this, sweetheart.”

“Cass, we talked about this,” you repeat, “And you can’t go to the lobby buck ass naked.”

His grin is shit-eating.

“What? Afraid you might have to fight for my goods?” he wiggles his eyebrows as you wrench your luggage from his hand.

“Don’t start with this,” you answer, leaning up for one last kiss. “You and I both know that I’ll take anyone down who tries to get a look at what’s mine.”

Cassian hums against your lips, his large hands settling on your hips. “I like it when you act all possessive, sweetheart. Makes me so hard for you.”

You let out a breathless sigh, pressing even further into him, pinning his cock between your hips. Cassian bucks and you clench your thighs together, glaring up at him.

“I don’t have the time for this,” you say, sadly.

Cassian nips at the juncture of your shoulder and throat, already distracted by the sweet scent of the lingering perfume on your skin. He hums and the feeling rakes down your spine, rattling your senses.

“I’ll call you a car,” he says between open mouthed kisses that have you craning your neck to give him more room. “But please come back to bed until it comes.”

You bite your lip. This isn’t a good idea. You’re already late, and who knows how long the lines will be at security or how far your gate is. What if they’re moved up your flight?

But his eyes are just too eager, filled with the promise of one last good dicking down until he sees you again, in two weeks.

“Fine,” you give in. It’s early, maybe Cassian can get you on the next flight instead. He’s already helping you from your clothes, as much as he loves seeing you in them, they look much better on the floor. “But we have to make it quick.”

[samodivaa]

┊Impure Thoughts┊2

《Part 1┊Reader x Bucky Barnes

Bucky is getting more comfortable with going out without the prosthetic. You are getting a little too comfortable with the idea of using it...as a pleasure tool.

Warnings - smut, fingering, fisting, oral (f receiving)

Words - 2250

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄

Every secret of your mind is rendered up—from this new and intimate perspective, you have no choice, but to speak

“Lust,” you keep your voice pitched low “Lust is a deadly sin” 

“And fucking yourself with my arm” His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly.

“I think that falls under lust” you whisper, sultry.

You catch yourself staring at the sensual curve of his lips, the impressive cut of his jaw, devouring every part of him with eyes.

“I think it should have its own category” he responds sweetly, allowing a shade of mockery to infect his tone.

He is looking at you with amused suspicion—you have to acknowledge this tame remark about the whole situation sounds way too perverse. You try to remain cordial and calm. You don’t want to give him the impression you are overbearing in fear he would judge you.

“Bucky-”

His jacket then goes to the floor, followed by his trousers, shirt until he is only in his boxers. His eyes dart over the surface of your face, exploring you from a distance with his unspoken desire and an innocent and mesmerizing smile.

“Jesus, snezinka…you are so filthy”(snowflake)

you hear a mute moan of human tenderness— his soul actually hanging around your naked body and is ready to repent. There is a pleasant sinking sensation in Bucky’s stomach as he contemplates how deliciously it would be to do it himself.

Your eyes widen at his choice of words and, much to your shock, you find that you love his dirty talk.

You are on your back—legs spread—the metal fingers still in you.

A little bit of kink is one of the most delicious of erotic pleasures

He stumbles forward to the bed and your body suddenly surges with the heat of concentrated humiliation—you feel disgusted—tired of the lust, but it's so hard to refuse it now.

He doesn’t speak, his expression doesn’t soften. But he is hard.

“The scent of your arousal is so-so sweet”

He speaks and you have a difficult time tearing your gaze away from his pelvis to meet his eyes.

His blue eyes almost glow, his voice lowered, husky. The scent of you, the scent of—pure filth.

Those scents lay around Bucky now, tempting him, drawing him.

Your thighs tighten, legs tremble at the sight of him coming closer to the bed. You hear him swear under his breath and reach down to squeeze tightly the imprint of his cock through the boxers—he senses your gaze now as he grips his cock over the fabric, the friction is absolutely delicious.

“Keep them open, it is too late for shame, baby”

He has never before felt so overwhelmed—nor experienced such appetite—such impatience for the night to begin.

He licks his lips, panting hard as you spread your legs further, his eyes barely glancing over the moisture glazed flesh.

He groans, the thought of his head between those silky thighs, his tongue lapping the sweet moisture that produced that intriguing scent is nearly more than he could bear.

Bucky licks his lips and bits back an oath.

When he climbs onto the bed, the bed cracking under his weight—as he crawls towards you—you close your eyes, take a deliberate deep inhale through your nose, hold it for a few seconds before forcing the trapped air out through pursed lips, attempting to calm down your accelerating heart rate.

And an affliction more than describes it.

Your feet fevered, skin sensitive, ready for his touch. It is unlike anything you have ever experienced. It is unlike anything you ever wanted to know, feel.

Bucky touches the back of your thigh, fingers grazing lightly down to the back of your knee, grasping it and lifting your leg carefully over his shoulder.

Through the fog of dizzying pleasure you open your eyes—a hitch of breath when his fingers slip in and out of you really quickly

—this bastard has reattached his arm.

He observes your face; your eyelids have dropped low over your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth. He squeezes your thigh, keeping your leg over his shoulder, his thumb gently tracing your skin and another low sigh leaves you.

You feel him withdrawing his fingers from your dripping centre. Then, one finger traces down your slit and starts to play with your tight rosebud.

You shudder from the pleasure that he is giving you. Feeling the pressure building up—your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, when he pulls away.

Your gazes meet, he can see your eyes beseeching him to give you the release that you urgently needed.

“No, this is not what you have planned”

There is no fulfillment that is not made sweeter for the prolonging of desire

Two fingers glisten with the frothy cream of your body. After swishing his saliva around, he manages to clear his palate enough before bringing the fingers to his lips and sucking them slowly, his mouth watering from the irresistible tangy, almost metallic taste

—he has never tasted vibranium before.

You whimper as he takes them into his mouth, his eyes darkening on a sigh of both ecstasy and sin as he tastes you on his own fingers. His lashes lowered, becoming heavy with sexuality, his face is tense, tight with the needs that surges through his body as well.

“You always taste good—even better like that”

Bucky smiles, the curve of his lips tight.

He says as he runs the metal index finger along your slit, gathering some of the arousal, then circling it around your clit before dipping the digit insidе. Slowly he pumps, sending your hips bucking under his hand.

He adds another finger into her tightness and you mewls.

“Oh yes” The shocking words erupting from your mouth do little to dim the haze of need for more “Please. Oh please—” you are making little gasping sounds, Bucky looks down to watch his whole fist sinking in slowly, but surely.

“What the…how…” he murmurs.

The anticipation and confusion he feels at seeing his hand disappearing into you, also a kind of sensual pleasure, and surrounding it, like an embrace, a general elation—it is terribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but he finds out for himself that he enjoys it, and it thrills him.

Your eyes lit up in glee, seeing his grimace of pleasure, the raw lust that transforms his face—as you finally get what you wanted.

Since he has done that for you, you suppose it was only fair that he wants it too.

“Fuck...please” you struggle to get out, overcome by what he has just done.

“Need to suck your tits”

He says, removing your leg from his shoulder, he leans downward to press a small kiss to the side of your neck and you gasp, head arching back as that rough, rasping tongue strokes over your neck. Slowly, he places open mouthed kisses up the of your neck, letting his tongue slip out occasionally to taste your skin.

His breathing increases in pace, coming out in a deep and fast rhythm, as he kisses his way across your throat to give the other side of the neck the same treatment and he registers that you have upped the volume as well, with quiet moans accompanying your sighs.

Oh, this will be so good.

Real good.

Hot, with a gentle abrasion that has you panting as he moves slowly to your breasts. He lavishes your tits with attention, his lips nibbling sporadically, which only adds to the arousal coursing through your veins.

The satisfaction of hearing your ardor-filled voice uttering his name with such need is indescribable. It fills him with such yearning that he could barely contain himself.

His cock aches to escape and fuck you—but is all about you tonight.

Bucky can only sigh, grinding a bit into the air, he makes himself elicit a growl against your skin in response, scraping his teeth lightly over the nipple. He groans, fisting into you harder now, hitting your cervix as your eyes, water up at the sensation of being so stuffed as he gives you more and more—him hand fucking you like that flips your brain inside out and turns your cunt to pudding.

You are mindless now. You can feel the sensations building—everywhere.

The wet squelches of your pussy make it clear that you are incredibly turned on. Bucky plays with your body expertly and if he keeps going you are going to come apart all over his hand. Your breathing speeds up and becomes ragged, broken moans interspersed between the gasps for air.

He meets your eyes as he pulls back and thrust his hand into you again. You are just blinking up at him, eyes wide as he bites his lip, trying to maintain a steady pace instead of pounding into you the way he wants.

Of course, you notice his reluctance—you shamelessly whisper—

“Faster”

“Tell me if it hunts, baby” he slurs the words as if inebriated.

He speeds up his pace, he’s panting, because he wants to fuck you so much—he feels the build of pleasure low in his abdomen as he slams his hand into you, the cool heat of your orgasm builds with each thrust—you clenching around him—shuddering against him.

It is not the easiest for the pace but the feeling of both your cunt getting filled by his metal hand and his mouth on your nipple have you coming, screaming out—his hand having slowed down to extend your pleasure—he feels you clench your inner muscles hard and your whole body starts to seize up, as the orgasm washes over. Lost to your pleasure, you ramble nonsensically; a combination of his name, pleas for more and thanking him for doing this.

He slowly removes his fingers from your cunt, giving the clit a small caress before raising his hand to lick off your slick.

“Different—” you try to catch your breath.

Shame is a soul eating emotion

“—different position”

Why drown in shame when you can have so much fun swimming in lust?

Oh, sweet fucking Jesus—Bucky wants to say, but stays wordless.

You are not ashamed of your needs—it overlays his heart with lust, too.

He immediately understands you and moves you like a rag doll—he maneuvers your legs so that you end up straddling him, your cunt is right over his head.

Bucky’s tongue rasps through the slit of your lips from bottom to top. You buck against him, greedily using his mouth and nose for your pleasure, compressing his face underneath your weight.

Slow, erotically rough and so hot you feel your flesh melting. His human hand grips your thigh, holding you down to his mouth—he slips his metal fingers inside of you, twisting and curling as he tirelessly works. 

“Mmmm” his low moans of pleasure vibrates against your clit. You gasp for breath as he licks you, his tongue swirling around, gathering more and more of the taste as he groans in satisfaction merely from being suffocated, used—your enthusiasm, hoping the vibrations would likewise be your undoing.

Those sweet lips. Oh my, he could kiss those lips all night long.

He smiles mentally and continues the pleasurable torture, not playing on stopping until you finish. Bucky has to consciously remind both his hand and mouth to keep moving, concentrating the movements—your melodic sounds are way so distracting to his mind.

He raises his head for the last time and licks up the delicious slit, savoring the flavor, before focusing on your pleasure bud once again, his whole fuckin hand in your depths, fisting you, making you clench around the metal, your orgasm building.

Arousal is more potent than any drug on the planet as Bucky drowns, drinks you in as you start to tremble—endearing that you want to finish so badly, breasts sway as you choke, rapidly approaching your orgasm.

You cry out as tremors take hold of you, her body jerking and nearly slithering away—but the flesh fingers have you locked, his arm around your thigh, holding you in place. He keeps going until he can’t breathe anymore—you’ve managed to nudge him into the mattress, but he doesn't mind—he doesn’t mind at all.

He lets go of you and you tumble to his side. Bucky can’t help but grin as he turns his head to face you—his sultry lips and seductive—covered in your wetness.

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. All Bucky wants is for you to feel good—you are, and always have been, his dream.

“Bucky?” you ask against your better judgment. “How do you—do you want me—“ you clear your throat. “Do you want to fuck me or—something else?”

You are confused and you are trying to catch your breath when you hear a dark chuckle—you meet his eyes then, all wide pupils and rich blue irises.

Darker than you’ve seen before

“Do you think that my dick will be enough after all that?” he asks, quietly.

“What about your dick and your hand in my—” you manage to whimper.

Bucky is amused. Or speechless. Maybe something in between there.

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Fics like that arrive all the same. And now it's here. Or should I say, I AM >:)

Tag list :

@wilsons-striped-ties @12345sebby @rabbitrabbit12321 @buggy14 @femefetalelevelingup @8crazy-freak8 @emily-roberts @francesca-the-1st @somewereinthegalaxi @princezzjasmine @erica2024 @vicmc624

[kissablening]

SECRETS & WEBS — s.rj oneshot

pairings: spiderman!ryujin x roommate fem!reader

summary: your roommate, shin ryujin, turns out to be the citys superhero , spiderman but you are unaware of that..

warnings: language

wc: 827

note: oneshot debut👀👀 , lmk if yall want another part to this lol!!

IT was about 11 pm on a Sunday night, usually you’d be in bed, ready to sleep— but you had an important exam tomorrow so you used all the extra time you had to study for it.

You sigh at the thought of taking your exam tomorrow, it was infact a math exam and to your luck you were horrible at the subject.

Your roommate, shin ryujin aka the nerd of the house, promised to help you with studying today which was another reason you were still awake, waiting for her to return to your apartment even though it was late as hell.

You sat in silence, thinking about the answer to the 4th question on the study guide ryujin made you before she left, she made sure it was as difficult as the exam because damn, you were struggling on it too.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud coming from the front of the apartment, this freaked you out because usually, ryujin messages you 5 minutes before she arrives home. You quickly grab the bat sitting in the corner of your room before slowly opening your room door to go check what the thud was.

The only source of light was coming from your room since you earlier turned off any light you werent using to help the light bill a little. Rushing to turn on the living room light, the front door was still unlocked but the light to ryujins room was on.

Okay, what the fuck.

“Ryu, is that you? Are you home?” you call out, making sure it was her in her own room and not a intruder. You let out a sigh of relief after hearing her swear under her breath. You discard the bat somewhere on the sofas in the living room before walking towards ryujins bedroom.

You tried just walking into her room as you always do but the door was locked. weird. “ryu what was that thud about? are you okay in there?”

“Im fine yn, just dropped my dumbell on the floor.” she responds almost out of breath. weird x2.

“dumbell? since when did you have dumbells?” You question putting your ear to the door so you could hear her better, instead you hear her unlocking the door so you quickly moved away waiting for her to open it.

She opens the door standing in the door frame with a smirk on her face, yes you said she was a nerd, but she was still popular in school, played sports, basically your local f-boy with an actual big brain. “What do you mean since when did i have dumbells? do you think i just have these abs through genetics?” She taunts motioning her hand up and down her body. your eyes follows her hands eyeing her body, your eyes widened, “Like what you see? well you can always—”

“SHIN RYUJIN WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU, SERIOUSLY WHY ARE YOU BLEEDING SO MUCH!!! OH MY GOD I NEED TO GET THE FIRST AID KIT.” You panic after seeing the large bloody cut on the side of ryujins torso, running to find a first aid kit. Ryujin eyes widened and looked down.

Ryujin curses to herself in her head for forgetting to heal that spot, she expected You to be sleeping by this time, what she wasn’t expecting was her roommate finding the large cut a villain left on her, that she forgot to heal.

She slowly stops the bleeding on the wound, enough that you wont notice its stopped completely. She could hear your footsteps becoming louder.

Standing up straight placing her hand on her cut, she watched as you guided her to the dining table, sitting her down in the chair, placing the first aid kit onto the table.

“Seriously ryu are you an idiot? How the hell did u even get a cut this big?” You scold patting the cut down with alcohol wipes.

“Ahaha, its no big deal babe, i didnt even feel a thing.” Ryujin replies smiling down at the girl whose glaring at her through her reading glasses. “So, whyre you still up at this time, yn?”

“I was..waiting for you.” You say shyly , wrapping the wound in a bandage. “And all done, youre welcome.”

Ryujin ruffles her hair before standing up, secretly healing the wound in the process. “Awww, you were waiting for me?” She grabs yn’s cheeks.

Your cheeks heat up immediately, ryujin was always a flirt so why is this effecting you right now? “N..No! I was waiting for you to help me study ryujin. You promised..”

“Oh shit I did, im sorry ill help you study now.” Ryujin says grabbing your hand, leading you to her room to help you study. Letting out a sigh of relief that you didn’t bombard her with questions about why she was home so late.

“Oh by the way.. why were you home so late? its nearly 1 am.”

Shit.

⋆｡°✩🕸️🕷️✮⋆˙

[cipheramnesia]

Part 3: The Death, Rebirth, and Afterlife of Parasite Alice

The Riverside Clinic for Wellness and Long-term Care weathered safely the storms of the burn just as all the worst memories navigate the mindscape unimpeded. The venerable history of the red brick and white trimmed building carried it through the poor and homeless left in squalor to the airy chill of lobotomy and electroshock therapy, two wings wide and three floors tall. Its height well serviced its intent, too short for escape even via a yearning leap from the roof to its concrete driveway.

The persistance of such single-minded enclosure of the divergent mind carried forward to the interior, with mutiply sectioned floors along each wing navigable only through a network of stairwells. A more modern elevator spired through the center of the building, lever operated and gated by iron on all sides. None of the layers of white tile or muted gray carpet or soothing art prints or geometic wall paintings over the years could fully excise the prison lovingly built into the architecture. Inside, it promised no escape. Outside its dignified facade offered warm reassurance that aging loved ones to difficult children and everyone in between would be safely forgotten.

Some part of Alice understood all this as the square black truck complained about stopping at the brick stairs with their awkwardly late addition of a wheel chair accessible ramp, leading to wide white doors set with large windows blocked by gauzy white curtains. The driver helped her out of the car and she said, "I can do it just fine!" before almost falling as her legs wobbled. She didn't like strangers touching her, but now everyone was a stranger and she leaned on a stranger just for the simple task of reaching the door of the building where she will die of cancer.

The doors swung inward to reveal an average man with a surfeit of dignity to his gray peppered mustache and deep, dark eyes beneath a noble high forehead and a gently swept back head of mostly gray hair. His thick belly preceded his wide shoulders into any room, and his hands were noticeably large with thick fingers, moving quickly and nimbly to pull a wheelchair onto the small porch. He wore checked trousers, a pale yellow golf shirt, and his arms were exceptionally hairy.

"So good to meet you," he let one hand overtake his stomach to greet Alice, which she disregarded. "My name is Dr Hopewell, and I'm the administrator here at Riverside. I've heard quite a bit about you, and I wanted to make you comfortable right away. You're quite the special guest!" He smiled away the dignity of his profile.

"I don't need a wheelchair," she said. The driver shrugged and let her go, forcing her to grab to armrests to keep standing. "I'm just tired." She gave daggers out of her eyes to both men before maneuvering herself into the seat. "Don't get used to this."

The driver passed a clipboard over her head. "You gotta sign for the delivery, also initial there... and there. Sign and date there too. Okay, nice knowing you."

Dr. Hopewell was already turning her and rolling her into the building before the driver started the truck. "Don't worry Alice, we'll make sure you have the best of care here. You're a celebrity after all, but there may be a few bumps ahead!" They wheeled past a heavy wood door and a much larger orderly took over, pushing her down the hall then bumping up a flight of stairs.

"We specialize these days in unique individuals like yourself. I understand you won't persue treatment?" She folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "Well, if you change your mind, we can be ready to start immediately." The chair and orderly bumped back down stairs into another long hallway. "But here is your room, and we've put you with someone you should get along with. She's very unique."

The room was small, two beds with a curtain divider, wall mounted TV sets, a closet bathroom, one tall window and a few small sets of sad artificial wood drawers.

Another woman sat in a rolling tube frame chair in the far corner of the room. She was big and soft and still in pajamas, her belly stuck out a bit from under the top, and her sloping shoulders seemed to be a permanent fixture of her slouch while the sweeping curve of her neck to her chin echoed in her faint jawline. Her nose was long and straight and Alice thought it was very fine with her dark black eyes looking a thousand miles away and her arrow straight glossy black hair hanging behind the chair. Alice wondered what it would be like to hold her hand. Would she squeeze hard or gently? Interlaced or fingers to thumb.

She about the woman's hands and lips and eyes enought, it took her longer than it should have to realize the other woman was also shimmering with the golden glow of the burn.

[shypen]

ㅤ — ༿ີ۪۪  ͏ ͏ r3al!ty ㅤ ⠀⠀𓋜‎ 𝒫JS

𝓈ynopsis . you love playing games, he loves playing games, its perfect right? but what’ll happen when jay’s intense game addiction gets in the way of your relationship? the irritating sound of clicking buttons on the controllers. its basically all you and jay ever did, play play and play. trying to spend quality time with him in any other way is almost impossible, its ruining your relationship. so much so you have to help him with his hallucinations, eventually getting so bad he has a difficult time differentiating between game and r3al!ty. ✧‎ ‎ ㅤ𝑔enre . angst , fluff , comedy (i tried) , enemies to lovers 3.6k

a.n :: for kam ara rain jazz and lissie (are you happy now.)

𝓅airings . gamer!jay x gamer!reader 𝓌arnings . bl00d (sorree!!) , st@bbing , g4ns , ++

req status :: taking requests ^-^

reminder . everything here is FICTIONAL, meaning NOTHING HERE IS REAL! these things never happened. if u dont like my work dont read it pls and ty !

© shypen 2024. do not copy, plagiarize or repost.

“on your left—” heeseung yells, the clicking of you and his controllers filling the room. multiple ‘pew’ noises come out of the tv’s speakers. ‘game over’ text appears on the tv on your side. “you didnt warn me early enough,” you speak through gritted teeth, turning toward your brother. "you looked too late," heeseung fights back, making direct eye contact with you. you groan in frustration. "whatever. another game?" you ask, getting ready to click on the 'play again?' option. he shakes his head, getting up from the floor. "it's late, ill go sleep," he yawns, stretching. you chuckle and nod, waving goodbye to him as he exits your room.

you, however, are not tired in the slightest. you were determined to atleast get one win that night, even if you hear birds outside. you start up a new game, readjusting your headphones. you clutch the controller in your hand as the game starts to countdown. immediately as the 'go' text appears you start to gain power ups for future enemies. as you were about to grab another power up, your screen color turns gray, on the side some red text. "jongpro0313 has killed you. respawn?" you shrugged it off. "no big deal," you told yourself, respawning. you won't shrug it off anymore. every. single. time. each round he kills you atleast 50 or more times, the same 'jongpro0313' person. your knuckles turn white from gripping the controller each time you see the same exact game over screen. no matter how much you try to kill him back it's no use. is he using aimbot or something? why is he targetting me?

"1 unread message - new chat. open?"

you click the accept button. "jongpro0313: lol u kinda suck ngll soz the final straw. "ynnetta180: what did i do dude" "jongpro0313: just playing the game sweetheart ;)" you scoff at the message. you spot him afk in a hiding spot and you chuckle, aiming at him and finally killing him, making him lose his streak. grabbing his loot, another game over screen appears. "jongpro0313 has killing you. respawn?" "jongpro0313: could only kill me once i was afk. how cute" that made your blood boil. "jongpro0313 has sent you a friend request. accept or decline." is that man crazy? decline, of course.. "accepted." oh youve gotta be joking me. "jongpro0313: accepted my friend request? what, are you expecting some aiming lessons, darling? lolll ur funny" "ynnetta180 has left the game." fighting the strong urge to bash your head against a wall and throwing your controller, you take deep breaths before climbing onto your bed, grabbing your phone and checking the time. "4:27 AM" you're used to it by now. placing your headset and phone on your nightstand, your eyelids start to get heavy, automatically closing, drifting off into a peaceful sleep. if only that was the case. you tossed and turned all night, doubting your skills as you get flashbacks about the countless times youve gotten endlessly killed by one. person. you snatch your phone, logging into your account and searching the exact username targeting you all night. (technically day). "search: jongpro0313" "bio: name: jay / jongseong seattle area im too goated" you scroll down to view all of the achievements he obtained the whole time he's been playing, and goodness, he is goated. you gulp as your scroll through all of his whopping 7,581 badges. you click off his profile.

the agitating melody of chirping birds can be heard through your window, giving you a migraine. you jump once you hear your brother's alarm originally set for 7:00 am. you groan, clearing your throat. "HEESEUNG WAKE UP," you yell, banging on your bedroom wall so he hears you. "IF YOU BREAK THE WALL I'M NOT PAYING," he yells back, immediately hearing a loud thud after. out of concern, you sprint to his room, opening the door and seeing your brother laying on the floor, drool coming out from the corner of his mouth and his hair overly messy. "you seriously fell from the-" you get interrupted by the sound of his loud snoring, honestly impressed by how fast he falls asleep. unless he's unconscious. you walk over to him and crouch down, tugging on his arm. "gross, you're drooling. get up."

heeseung groans, fluttering his eyes open. "fine, i'll make your breakfast in a sec.." you squeal a quick, "thanks, hee!" dropping his arm and skipping happily back to your room, shutting the door. "you're seriously not gonna help me off the floor, y/n.."

your eyes lighten up seeing the smoothie bowls heeseung lays on the table, snatching them almost immediately. "thank you, heeseung!!" you exclaim. he mumbles out weak a 'welcome,' sitting next to you. about to take a bite, your phone starts to buzz. not just buzz, but blow up. so much so that you're surprised your phone isnt overheating. "messages kamryujin poo!! GIRLL CHECK TWITTER RIGHT. NOW."

"messages jazztomatoes <3 HAVE YOU HEARD?" "messages ara ara ara ^-^ DID YOU CHECK TWITTER TODAY?" "messages rainy rain reyna ( = . = ) ARE YOU COMING TO THE COMPETITION TOO??" competition?

your search history is now filled with every detail about the competition, your eyes glued to your phone even as you place your bowl in the sink. "aren't you gonna wash your dis- oh, okay i guess ill do all the work," heeseung glares at your as you walk to your room, not even glancing at where you’re looking.

“upcoming call from: ara ara ara ^-^”

accept.

“your coming, right?” your friend ara exclaims. “waitwaitwait how does it work though?” you scratch your head. “ummm basically players come together and randomly partner people up, competing til the best players go one on one im pretty sure..” she mutters. you nod and smile. “sure. ill go. do you know how to participate for it?”

“yeah, of course, the thirdwheel gc is coming too,” ara giggles. “wait, rain, kam, jazz, and you??” “yupp. if we have to go against each other i’ll cry but the chances of us being partnered up is low depending on the people participating.”

“aaah got it. ill sign up for it! byeee,” you both say your goodbyes. you turn your phone on again, the time reading “7:53 am Saturday”

you twist your doorknob open to talk to heeseung, aggressively swinging his door open. you find him in the bathroom, warming up the water for a shower. “what do you want..” he groans, still grumpy from the dishes incident. “do you think you could drive me here on wednesday?” you show him the map on your phone leading to the competition. “you can drive yourself, just borrow my car,” heeseung sighs, beginning to take off his shirt. your hands immediately fly up to hover over your eyes. “not in front of me you weirdo,” you say, turning back and running out of his room, hearing his menacing laugh fading away as you do.

_________________________________________________________

“let me check you,” the security guard says, an australian accent pooling out. scanning you for any dangerous items for confirmation before handing you a participants pass. “enter,” he mumbles, and you smile. before you enter the building, you catch a glimpse of his nametag: “sim jaeyun.”

the inside is spacious, tons of people crowding certain booths, etc, the booths there to keep people entertained as they wait for the competition to start. let’s just say your car broke down as you were driving, sooo you were a teensyy bit late. but you arrived just in time for the competition to begin.

they seat you down next to a randomized partner, a big projector screen in front of both of you. its usage? to display the game as you both play. you both are given controllers, immediately beginning the game which completely catches you off guard. looks like your partner is even more caught off guard, the ‘game over’ screen showing on their side.

it continues on like this, a few tough opponents but you make it through a lot of the rounds. you’re now given a brief intermission, some time to get water or practice even more. you decide on water, after all, you’ve beaten every opponent already, right?

“last players y/n and jay go up!” you hear someone say from a megaphone. it blares in your ears, you flinch slightly and immediately start to run back to the chairs. you take a seat, your opponent already next to you. “last round. users?”

you try to keep your composure when you hear “last round.” last round? as in you and the boy next to you are finalists?

“hey,” your opponent nudges your shoulder. “he asked for your username, doll.”

“o-oh, sorry. ynnetta180,” you stutter out, from the corner of your eye you spot your opponent smiling to himself. the staff press the start option, counting you both down. almost automatically, you start to rapidly press and click buttons, trying your best to shoot your opponent. until something caught your eye.

“nametag: jongpro0313”

oh you’ve gotta be kidding me

he’s obviously gonna win, right?

“hey— what are you doing..” you stop pressing buttons to turn your head at him. he leans on his chair, hands behind his head. “you can only kill me when i’m afk, right? go on,” he insists. you roll your eyes as you kill him in game, eyes not leaving his. he gets up from the chair as you follow. “good job,” he extends his hand toward you. you nod and grab his hand, shaking. "we've met before, haven't we?" "yeah, you gave me free kills yesterday," he chuckles. you and his hands are still intertwined, he uses it to walk away from the competition site with you, after all, crowds are too overwhelming. plus, the prize is automatically mailed, you aren't required to stay around for long.

"why'd you just let me win like that.." you ask him and he turns his head to you. "i've won for last years competition, i felt like there was no need in winning it two years in a row so i wanted to give a chance to my opponent, didn't know you'd be the opponent though," he scoffs playfully. "jay," he stops walking, letting go of your hand. you smile at him. "y/n. you live by here?" "yeah, over at xxxx xxxx street, visit me sometime," he replies, hands in his pockets as he walks away to one of the booths in the building. you brush it off and walk back home. once again you hope that was the case. you collapse onto your bed and start to kick your feet, grabbing a pillow beside you to scream in. heeseung walks in your room, a concerned expression on his face. "GET OUTTTUH," you whine, throwing the pillow that you just screamed in at him. "GOODNESS FINE... whats your deal today, gee.." he closes your door and you immediately grab your pillow back, screaming muffled by it. theres no denying he was HANDSOME, no questions there. not only is he hot, his voice also sent chills down your spine. of course you wouldn't tell heeseung that, he hates you talking to boys.

"1 new unread message from jongpro0313. open?" your eye widen as you stare at your phone screen from across the room, immediately tossing the poor pillow on the floor for the second time, bolting to your phone. you type your password in and open the message. of course, you forgot you accepted his friend request. jongpro0313 "hey, did you get home safe?" ynnetta180 "yess thanks for asking, you?" jongpro0313 "yeah" jongpro0313 "xxx-xxx-xxxx" ynnetta180 "whats that for" jongpro0313 "my number sweetheart" it takes every power of your being to not scream at the top of your lungs right now. its like your hands move by themselves, copy and pasting the number jay gave. you grab another pillow from your bed and clutch it tight, texting him a 'hey.' you two talked all night, even playing a few games on call too. jay and you ended the night with "ill teach you how i play tomorrow okay? visit me," "okay. goodnight jay!" and so you did, the next thing you know you're knocking on his door with 3 bags of chips in your hands. he opens the door with a toothbrush in his mouth, hair all over the place, and tired eyes. "i told you to visit me but not visit me this early.." he's muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. he's right. it was 6 am. "deal with it," you giggle, making your way in his house. you set the snacks down on his kitchen counter. "whatever, i'll just brush my teeth again.." jay walks back to his bathroom.

you open up his fridge to see if he has some soda, and thankfully he does. you grab the cans and set it on the counter along with the bags. you rip open one of the bags and take a bite of a chip, justtt a little bit while you wait for jay. fortunately, you arrived and knocked on his door midway through him brushing his teeth, so he emerges out of the bathroom pretty quickly. “cmon, ill teach you how to play,” he smiles, heading to the couch. this is the first time you get a good glimpse of his side profile, his jaw is so sharp its identical to a knife. you walk over to the couch, plopping on it. “i know how to play, its just.. you aim like a bot.”

“is that an insult or a compliment,” he chuckles, grabbing two controllers, tossing one to you. “half and half, and thanks,” you hold back your smile as he starts up the game.

the presses a button causing the round to immediately start, and you freeze in surprise before actually moving around.

during the match, you two help each other. jay’s “on your left,”’s and “on your right,”’s help a lot. during intermission, his warm hands take hold of yours, guiding you and teaching you where to aim your crosshair.

you couldn’t lie to yourself no matter what you did, but you felt some butterflies floating around in your stomach whenever his hands held yours. you two ended the night with a wave goodbye, and you walk back to your house. loud buzzer sound. you ended up staying up with jay til 3:42 am. figuring its too late to drive back to your place, he offers a sleepover. you reluctantly accept, which leads to you waking up in his arms. a red hue flushes your cheeks, trying to pry his hands off but he's sound asleep. you end up waiting 'til he wakes up. you get home later that day with jay walking you, but that ends up not going so well once you see your brother's aggravated face. "where have you been, your breakfast is cold," he says sternly. "i was out, calm down.." you reply, setting your jacket on the coat rack. "yeah, out with a boy. who is he?" "heeseung literally calm down its just a friend i made at the competition," you sigh, kneeling down to take your shoes off. "i'll see about that," heeseung walks to the front door, opening it to find jay, but all he sees is jay waving bye to him and driving off with a cheeky smile, and heeseungs eyebrows furrow. "is he atleast good to you.." he shuts the front door. you take off your shoes, nodding. "yeah, he is." "I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HIM," he points at you, wide bambi eyed. "NO IM NOT LEAVE ME ALONE," you fight the urge to throw your shoe at him. "yeah yeah sure whatever you say," he crosses his arms, watching you run to your room. from that day you and jay start to talk and hangout a lot more, something you never thought you would do back when he kept killing you. the day that him and heeseung met was.. interesting to say the least but hey, heeseung approved of him! (barely)

you and jay are dating now. everythings perfect. atleast it was.

of course you two are game addicts, right? but thats the one thing thats ruining your relationship.

“jay, spend some time with me,” you place a hand on his arm, only for him to pull away, eyes glued to the screen. “one more round,” he always says, it’s so frustrating, and yet you always deal with it. you love him too much to lose him, but you feel as if your insignificant. you two barely hang out anymore because of how much he plays video games, you’d say it’s cause he likes video games too much, but deep down, you don’t think thats the case. this is a severe addiction.

it’s to the point where he basically never goes outside, you have to go out and grab him groceries and run errands for him.

it’s time to have a talk. "jay.. honeyyy... can we talk for a bit?" you approach the couch, tapping on your boyfriend's shoulder. "hm," he nods his head, not even making eye contact with you. agitated, you grab his controller and hit pause on his gamematch. he turns to you, eyebrows furrowed. "what was that for?" "we need to have a talk. like right now," you sit down next to him. "can it wait? cmonn, i brought new gear."

as much as your tempted to play with him, you stop yourself, reminding your mind about your goal. "can we go out together, jay? it's been so long.." you sigh, tugging on his hand gently. "honey, you know i dont like-" "pleasee" you tug on his arm harder, and surprisingly, he finally gives in. that was all in your head. you give in and he hands you new controllers, and you grab his extra set of headphones. "1 round only, okay? then we'll have that talk," you blurt, eyes staring intently at the tv screen. "yeah, yeah.. start it up," jay replies and you click the start button. it's perfect—it feels like when you two first met, playing at his house. the game not only has guns, but also recently added knives. it's been so long since you played, maybe about a month. the new feature shocks you, and each intermission after every round you buy new knife crates to unlock new knives. thankfully, you still have your skills despite the lack of playing, and it feels like you time travelled. it's been a year since you and jay have started dating, and you eventually got tired of staring at the screen all day, which is how you two have grown distant. this round, the theme are teams. the blue and red team, you and jay are unfortunately in separate teams, but you guys promise to avoid each other at all costs, killing all of your teammates and his instead. jay however, had different plans. he plans on pranking you, harmlessly killing you once so you lose your streak. on the left? no.. on the right? no sight of you either. he has an xray ability. he uses it to locate you and you're hiding behind a wall, using a glitch you found within the map not so long ago. unfortunately for you, jay realizes what you did. he sneaks up from behind, the animation of being stabbed playing on your screen. jay laughs, on the side noticing a "friend kill" text appearing on screen. "that was funny," he chuckles, expecting to get a reply only to be met with silence. "right, y/n?" "y/n?" "y/n..?" sirens.

everything flashes. the atmosphere is dark, overwhelming, overly foggy and cloudy, the high humidity adding to the discomfort. the darkness and fog contributing to a sense of claustrophobia. jay’s head is swirling with questions, the pitter patter of rain hitting the hard cement interrupting his thoughts. everythings dark, but the dim light from a neon sign of a building nearby illuminates the alleyway, including his knife he left in your stomach, the concrete below you stained with blood. red and blue hues approach behind jay, only noticing it when he gains his composure and realizing what's going on. that the gaming match you two just played wasn't a game. the blaring sirens behind jay didn't matter to him as he drops to his knees at the sight of you. everything felt empty. it was just a game it was just a game it was a harmless prank it was a harmless prank its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault its not my fault but is it his fault. screaming shouting and resisting when he feels the handcuffs wrap around his wrists, yelling his sorries and and desperation as he sees the life leave your precious eyes he always used to adore. apparently he didnt adore enough of it as he won't even see that same life in your eyes again.

taglist:: @kwanholic @quhrtz @jenos-eye-smiles @hmusunoo (HAPPY BIRTHDAY) @st1llm0nster @hursheys @lonelybutterflytae @vveebee @taehyunsthings @kim2005bomi @engentiny

[snowyquokka]

DRAINED

bf felix x gn reader

cw: hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of anxiety, stress, crying, fluff (maybe?), swearing, overworked felix, shitty grammar

wc: 0.6k

a.n - my first attempt at hurt/comfort. did i do well? <3

dont hate me but i think i prefer writing angst rather than anything else

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Felix sighs and all but throws himself on top of you as you sit on the couch. “Hi, baby.” you giggle as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“What’s the matter, Sunshine?” you say as you run your fingers through his soft blonde hair.

“Exhausted, overwhelmed, sad,” he lists against your neck. You always feel bad when he comes home from the studio or after he’s toured. Your boyfriend is constantly tiring himself, working as hard as he possibly can. You wish he would take care of himself once in a while. Felix says that’s what you’re for anyways.

You press a kiss to his temple and hum.

“Why are you sad, love?” He sighs and snuggles closer to you.

“I kept fucking up my part. Redid it five times.” you can feel him pout. Another example of him pushing himself to his limits is when he frustrates himself to the point where nothing satisfies him. He could go hours with many fantastic takes but will insist on retrying it until it’s absolutely perfect.

“I’m sure you did amazing,” Felix squeezes you tighter and inhales deeply.

“‘m sorry,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence. You pull back enough to be able to see his face. He has no makeup on, his freckles on full display. Sometimes when you’re bored you’ll pretend like they’re constellations and connect them in your head.

“Sorry for what, Lix?”

“For bothering you with this kinda stuff. It's not important and I don't want to worry you.” Your heart plummets down to the floor.

“Why wouldn’t it be important to me, love? If you’re upset, I’m upset. Your problems are mine.” you kiss his forehead softly. Felix shifts in your arms so he’s at eye level.

You hold his hands while you watch a single tear stream down his cheek. He immediately wipes it away and displays a small, but not reassuring, smile.

“Thank you,” he sniffles and leans his forehead against yours.

“Of course, Sunshine. I’m always going to be here.”

TWO DAYS LATER

You’re sitting in bed watching a random movie when your phone dings.

my only sunshine <3: im gonna be a little late tonight

my only sunshine <3: im sorry. i love you ❤️

you: its okay baby. let me know when ur on ur way !! i love you too

You sigh and lock your phone. It’s not like you’re mad at him or anything of that sort. It’s just difficult watching him drain himself again and again. No matter what you say, he always goes back to overworking himself.

Tears that you hadn’t noticed were brimming fall down your cheeks. You turn everything off and close your eyes, inhaling Felix’s scent from the pillows.

You wake to the sound of the front door closing and glance at the alarm clock,

5:08am

Fuck. Is he just getting home?

You climb out of bed and wander into the living room where you find your boyfriend sitting with his face in his hands, he immediately notices you. He had turned the small lamp in the corner on, allowing you to take in his disheveled state.

His long blonde hair tousled from his fingers being ran through it. His eyes bloodshot from what seemed like hours of crying and lack of sleep. His hands shake and his leg bounces up and down in an anxious manner.

“Baby?” you whisper with worry laced in your voice prompting Felix’s body to almost automatically rack with sobs. You quickly pull him into you and wrap your arms around his figure, the only sound present in the room being both of your cries blended together.

tags: @godslino

divider: @chaeneuu

[ravencoloredroses]

Safe Word

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Sometimes when Az comes home from a mission things can get out of control.

Word Count: 1,679

Warnings: *SMUT*, blood, bruising and cursing

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted and I’m so sorry about that. Life has been crazy lately, but now that things are back to normal (ish) I’ll be posting more regularly. I have a bunch of requests to catch up on so if you requested a while ago and I never posted it I’m sorry! It will be up soon I promise! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this short fic with Az! This is my first time writing smut…. so let me know what you think! <3

——————————————————————

I hear the front door open as I drain my bath water. He’s home. Rushing to meet him, I just grab my robe to put on. Coming down the stairs, I see him in the entryway taking off his shoes.

“Hey Az!” I greet and watch as his stiffened form relaxes at my words.

“Hi beautiful.” He says back, spinning around to face me. When our eyes meet it’s difficult not to notice the fire in his gaze. He walks over to me and I meet him halfway. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down for a quick kiss.

Well, it was supposed to be a quick kiss, but Azriel had different plans. He pulls at the back of my head exposing my neck to him. He makes his way down my chin to my neck and down to my collarbone. I grab onto his hair and arch my body closer to him. He gives a deep moan and comes back to my lips. He grabs the back of my thighs as my queue to jump up. I cling onto him as he walks us up the stairs. My robe pools around my waist and he releases a moan as he notices how I’m dressed.

“I missed you so much, my love.” He says when we finally break for air.

“I missed you too.” I managed to get out. He smirks, pushing open our bedroom door and tossing me onto the bed. He looks at me with the gaze of a predator, and I’m more than happy to be his prey. I understand exactly what he needs from me. I knew from the moment I saw him at the door.

When Azriel has a bad day on a mission or in training he has multiple different ways to relieve his stress. Most days are just to cuddle up with a book or take a relaxing bath, but on rare occasions he needs to release his frustrations with sex. Today is one of those days.

He hovers over me pulling off my robe. As his scarred hands graze over my skin, I feel a wetness pooling at my core. I reach down and start to undo his belt buckle when he takes over for me. I watch as he flings his leathers onto the floor, never breaking eye contact. I note the obvious bulge in his boxers and pull him down into another searing kiss.

I move my hands down his torso and under his waistband, stroking him teasingly. He grabs my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist.

One second he’s standing up to remove his boxers, the next his mouth is back on my neck. I run my hands through his hair as he makes his way down to my chest, leaving marks that will definitely be there tomorrow.

His shadows creep up and bring my hands above my head pinning them there. He begins massaging one of my breasts and sucks on the other one. His unoccupied hand finds its way to my thighs, slowly circling around where I need him most. He runs his hands through my folds as his thumb plays with my clit. I arch my back off the bed and struggle to pull my hands free from his shadows, desperate to touch him.

He moves back up to kiss my lips, gives himself a few pumps, lines himself up and slams into me. Normally he allows me to adjust to his size, but tonight he just starts pounding. At first it was a bit of a shock, but after a few thrusts I realize I’m just along for the ride.

His pace never slows, if anything he picks up speed. The sound of slapping skin fills my ears and he moves his hands to my waist, holding me down firmly. He’s slamming into me so hard that I’m sliding up the bed towards the headboard. He pulls at my hips to bring me closer to the edge of the bed. His grasp on me only tightens as time goes on, turning my pleasure into pain.

I try to endure it for his sake. I know he needs this -needs me- right now and I can’t bring myself to stop it.

“Fuck.” He moans in my ear. “You feel so good.”

I kiss his shoulder as my response, but as tears fill my vision I know it’s getting to be too much.

I realize that I’m not wet anymore. Making this much, much worse. I can endure the pain from his hold on my hips, but every thrust feels like sandpaper scraping my insides.

He adjusts his grip on my waist and thrusts faster and harder. He’s getting close, and I tell myself if I can just stick it out for a little longer it will be okay.

The pain becomes too overwhelming and that has me do what I never thought I would need to do.

“RED!”

Azriel immediately stops his motions and looks at me stunned. “What’s wrong?!? Are you okay?!?” He asks looking frantic.

“I’ll be okay, I just need to stop. I’m sorry.” I sob, wiping away my tears.

“Do not apologize. Ever. Can I pull out?” He questions. I give him a small nod. He slowly pulls out of me and releases his hold on my waist. His shadows also release their hold on my wrists, giving my arms light kisses as they go back towards Az. He kneels before me and we both take note of the visible marks he left behind and the trail of blood seeping out of me.

“No. No no no no no.” He says mostly to himself, pulling at his hair. “Fuck. Oh my gods I’m such a fucking idiot. I’m so sorry dove, I- I don’t even know what happened.”

“Azzy, It’s oka-“

“Don’t. Do not tell me it’s okay.” He cuts me off, running off to the bathroom. As he gets up I notice his painfully hard cock. He was about to cum, and I ruined it. It looks so painful for him and I feel terrible for essentially blue balling my mate.

He returns with an entire first aid kit and a wet rag. He gently spreads my legs and begins wiping me clean. I can tell by his clenched jaw that he’s beating himself up in his head. I want to say something but nothing I could say will help this situation, so I remain quiet.

When he’s done cleaning the blood off of me, he rummages through the first aid kit looking for something. He pulls out a tube that I don’t recognize, meets my confused gaze and says, “I asked Madja for this when we first became mates. It helps to heal cuts on the inside, I can do it… if you're okay with that.” He looks at me with eyes filled with sorrow and I give him a small nod.

He sighs and twists the cap off the tube and squeezes some onto his fingers. He scoots closer to me and I spread my legs as far as I can for him. He clenches his jaw again and slowly pushes two fingers into me. I hold back my gasp as he moves them around to coat my walls. He pulls out and wipes them off on the rag.

He climbs back up on the bed and reaches over to pull me into his lap. I rest my head on his shoulder and grab his free hand to play with. Rocking me back and forth, he rubs a soothing hand down my spine.

After a while like this, he lifts me up and pulls back the covers of our bed. He lays me down and then climbs in next to me. I snuggle up into his chest and he puts his arms around me. “Az, it’s not your fault. We have a safe word for a reason. I should have used it sooner, so if anyone’s to blame it’s me.” I whisper and feel him stiffen underneath me.

“I’m your mate. The person you’re supposed to trust, the person who should never harm you. You’re the love of my life, I’ve waited centuries for you and I fucked that all up tonight. I know we have a safe word, but you should never have to use it with me. It’s my job to keep you safe, but I didn’t even keep you safe from myself.” He sobs.

I shoot up into a sitting position to look at him fully. Azriel does not cry, ever. Yet here he is, my mate, crying because he thinks he hurt me. I place my hands on either side of his face and look him dead in the eyes.

“Azriel. I love you so gods damned much. I do trust you, fully. After I said the safe word you immediately stopped. You stopped when you were about to orgasm. That shows me how selfless you are. Not all males would do that, but you did.” I kiss away his tears and continue.

“I never knew what it felt like to feel safe until I met you. You are the only person who puts me first and that means the world to me. I will never be able to repay you for all the times you’ve saved me. I love you Azriel and what happened here tonight doesn’t change that.”

He nods his head and I wipe the rest of his tears away then place a soft kiss on his forehead.

I slowly lay back down and pull him into my arms. This is my favorite way to sleep and I think it’s his too. Az nuzzles his head into my neck and I let my fingers play with his hair, lightly scratching his scalp like I know he loves. He places a kiss on my shoulder and flares out his wings to shield us from the world.

I’m drifting off to sleep as I hear a whisper so quiet I barely hear it.

“I love you too.”

[birinboom]

Not Yet

Jing Yuan x Reader Fluff, established relationship 🌸 598 words It’s difficult getting out of bed in the morning with someone as as clingy as the exhausted snugglebug named Jing Yuan

It’s rare that your work has you engaged beyond the end of Jing Yuan’s duties. On nights like that -if you’re able to work in the comforts of your shared home- Jing Yuan will often keep you company for a while, either getting ahead on his work for the next day or reading one of the old manuscripts he’s become so fond of to pass the time. Eventually, once the clock has tolled a certain hour, he starts yawning pointedly, stating that he is going to bed.

If you do not follow him, he begins to wander back and forth between the bedroom and your desk, poking his head into your office every so often, urging you to come to bed. He’s grown unable to sleep without you after all these years. At this point he refuses to even try while you are present.

If you wave him off for too long -which is admittedly even more rare as you also yearn for sleep- Jing Yuan gets to a point of stubborn, self-inflicted exhaustion where he throws his otherwise deeply-rooted manners to the wind and pulls you out of your seat. At this point he’ll carry you to bed if you will not walk on your own.

“Leave it for the morning,” he says when you try to argue. His voice is clipped, not out of anger, but pure fatigue. You know his exhaustion runs marrow-deep; it cannot possibly be alleviated by a single night of rest. You fully believe him when he says that he could sleep for a month if so allowed.

After late nights like these, he’s always extra clingy come morning.

It starts a short while before it’s time for you to get up, the few precious moments you have with each other before the day begins.

You roll over, stretching, your eyes opening to the gray light of early dawn. The finches are already awake,  clamoring for food in the garden. Next to you, Jing Yuan groans, his grip on you tightening.

“Not yet,” he croaks, voice rough from sleep.

“You always say that,” you croak back, rolling over again to face him, brushing his bangs out of his face and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You watch as one golden eye opens to a slit, looks blearily at you for a second, then defiantly closes again. He presses a kiss to your neck before burying his face in your shoulder. 

“We should get up soon,” you say.

He lets out a whine reminiscent of a petulant child and pulls the covers over his head, burrowing deeper into the bed. His head ends up resting against your chest, arms wrapped around your stomach. Letting out a deep sigh, he relaxes against you, his breathing growing deep and even. If it wasn’t for his fingers drawing patterns on the small of your back, you’d think he had fallen asleep again.

Your hand snakes its way underneath the covers, over his warm back, and into his hair. He lets out an appreciative hum as you run your fingers through the strands, your nails gently scratching at his scalp.

“You get five more minutes,” you say.

Jing Yuan presses a kiss to your stomach on top of your clothes.

“Ten.”

You’re about to answer when the sound of paws pat over the floor, then Mimi jumps up on your bed with a happy chirp. Under the covers, Jing Yuan groans again, hugging you close for a moment, before he sits up, hair tousled, and yawns widely. 

Once Mimi arrives, the early morning peace is over.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[hidden-poet]

President Snow part 3

Previous chapters; 1 and 2

Summary; After Lucy-Grey there was you.

warnings; slavery, Uncon, angst, dark!Coriolanus snow.

3/3

"Did you hear? Y/n L/n was sold into maids standing by her father last year". Festus creed plopped another Hors d'oeuvre into his mouthlike he was talking about the weather.

Coriolanus feels his body still at his words. The drink he pushed to his lips couldn't make its way into his mouth. He had looked for you at every social function. Even called upon where you once lived, only to be turned away by a new family living there.

He had assumed you had married and your family followed to where your new husband lived. If he was a manufacture he properly lived closer to the districts. The thought made him sick.

But no. You had been waiting for him. Training for him for the past year in maid training.

"I was thinking of adding her to my collection of the fallen"

Coriolanus's blood boils at the thought.

"Who?" Clemensia asks matching the almost bored expression of Festus.

"You know Arthur's daughter. The Banker who was stealing from the Pamen National bank. His daughter was a few years below us. Used to play on the volley ball team".

"When does she go to auction?" Clemensia warms at his words. She remembered her after all.

"Why so you can steal her from me?"

"What use would we have for a girl trained in fine arts and history? it won't make her a better floor scrubber. Right, Coriolanus?"

"i am still not sure who you are talking about" Coriolanus lied.

----------

Coriolanus returns home later then usual. He had gone to a party but normally he only made a quick appearance for an hour or two before returning. But this time he returned well into the night.

You wouldn't have minded if it hadn't of got so late. You were tired and he hated to come home to find you asleep. When you heard the door unlock you knew you would only have to stay up for an hour more.

As he entered the room to find you laying on the bed watching TV, he doesn't crawl over to you or demand you help him undress.

Instead he takes a dress out of your closet, that was mostly filled with his extra clothes, and tosses it to you.

"I have a surprise for you. Get dressed".

You do as your told taking off your nightdress in front of him and putting on the dark blue sun dress.

He eyes you slowly before taking your hand and leading you down the hall to the living room.

You wondered about the surprise and the need to dress for it. Normally his surprises entailed the exact opposite.

It made sense when you turned the corner and saw an elderly man sitting on the large white couch.

You heart leaps at the sight of your father sitting in the living room.

"dad" you cry tearing your hand from Coriolanus . He gets up upon seeing you and you both throw your arms around each other.

"Oh my baby". His arms felt safe and secure.

Coriolanus is quick to breck up the scene, taking you back into his grasp with a tight hold on your wrist. He brings you to the other side of the couch, away from your father.

"given your rise i thought you might like the opportunity to buy back your daughter" Coriolanus spoke with a cold hard tone.

Your toes curled in excitement. You were going home and you were going home a lady.

Your father straightened his back and shook off imaginary weight from his shoulders.

"I sure would. How much did you pay?"

"Less then what she is worth and less then what she is currently worth after my teachings".

You shudder. He was going to make this more difficult then it had to be.

"Lets start at a thousand panars".

"Let me show you the door at a thousand panars. My shoes cost more".

You wrap your hand around Coriolanus's wrist as he held yours. That was a good offer he spat at.

"Please Coriolanus" you beg.

-------

Coriolanus had a private showing at the slave quater the very next morning.

It was the earliest he could convince the owner of the house to have a showing. Which still wasn't early enough for him.

He paced through lines of young girls trying to find you. He remembered what you liked like at the Academy but people had a awful habit of changing.

He stopped in front of one girl who could have been you. Roughly the same height as he remembered. Same color eyes, although he never saw them up close so he couldn't be certain. Her hair seemed a lighter shade of Y/H/C and her nose seemed larger.

He continued satisficed that she most likely was not the girl he was looking for. He continues through the line of girls all dressed neatly in simple white dresses. They were more like potato sacks with arm holes.

They were organized according to training and skill. The girls who had been with the house the longest and received the most training were shown first.

He skipped the queue, you wouldn't be amongst them. He started in the middle and grew more frustrated as he neared the end. He knew once he spotted you he would know.

He scanned ahead looking for your hair color and height.

He saw a possibility far off and bee lined for it, ignoring the words of the owner as he took off.

Once he stood in front of you, he knew without a doubt that you were her. His Y/N.

You had barely changed from his memory. You had lost a little bit of weight no doubt from the stress of it all. Your eyes had dulled over a tad and your hair was less shiny and neat, but all the same you were as he remembered.

"President Snow, she is only trained as a house maid. She wouldn't be trained adequately for you", the owner of the house explained.

"Good then I don't have to train her out of annoying habits".

You looked worried, and he wondered if it was at the thought of being chosen or at not being chosen.

"Open your mouth" His first command to you.

You do and he pretends to check your teeth. Not an unordinary practice for a buyer but not of interest for Coriolanus.

He had longed to exert control over you.

Walking to school he would day dream to make the trek bearable in his tight shoes.

He dray dreamed he would find you at school and pluck the flowers out of your hair. "Don't wear these. They make you look childish" he would say.

At lunch time he would take the liberty of filling both your plates with food of his choice while you trailed close behind him.

You would wait for him after each class at his place of choosing. sometimes waiting just outside the door while he astonishes the classroom with his hard learned knowledge. He was sure he was going to get the Plinth prize and go off to university. There would be no need for you to do the same.

But his poverty kept him shackled and your money (however so dwindling) kept you safe.

Before if he told you to open your mouth for inspection you would laugh at him, now if he told you to hop on the spot, you would hop.

"how much?" he asked the sweaty little owner.

They agreed and you were tossed in the sold cage while Coriolanus filled out paperwork. He tired not to seem egger to collet you.

He had never personally brought a maid and had no idea it involved this much paper. He only glanced at whatever he was signing, trusting the person who explained each document to him.

When he was finally allowed to go collect you, he found himself stuck at the door.

How would he approach this? should he call you by your name to show he knew you or place the burden on you to make the connection.

You never even talked to him in school but perhaps you shared the same quiet fascination with him.

If not, he was still President Snow, and you were a loyal subject. He could image you would be awe-struck at the opportunity to serve him.

He yanked open the door and walked with powerful strides. You were sitting in the holding cell, curled into a ball on the floor.

You got up upon seeing him, and came closer to the bars.

"Here" he held out a cold water bottle that he got from the owners assistant. He wished he drank some of it. He would have spat in it if he had registered that he was going to give it to you.

his action took you both by surprise. But you take it.

"Thank you, President Snow".

He gained no sense of familiarity with your words.

He waited for a 'we went to school together' or a 'I always knew you were going to be President of Panem'.

But nothing came. You drank your water and even separated yourself from the bars.

You gave no sign you recognized him from the Academy days. You gave no plea to his sense of fellowship, or tried to give yourself false standing upon your upbringing.

When he had asked about your standing you had told him you were born into your situation. A bold move to someone who held your paperwork in his hand. The entire history of you, as well as your in and outs.

Still he didn't correct you. Perhaps you were waiting to pull the secret past card for a rainy day.

"Your name is Y/N? is that correct"

two could play the i don't remember game.

You nod.

"Well Y/N, in about 10 minutes two peacekeepers will come and take you to a van where you will be escorted to the Presidential estate. From there the Headmistress will make you presentable and begin your training as my servant".

His hands curl around the bars and he pushes himself closer to you.

"I have high expectations of you. Don't disappoint me".

-----------

'Coriolanus please. I'll come back any time you want me to. Do anything for you. But please let me return home".

Your words took his mind breifly to imagining a different life with you. They never caught him for cheating and with the Plinth prize under him, he took your hand in marriage.

And yet still, in his imagation you stood in the living room, perhaps better dressed, and said the same words.

He really did just want to own you.

Coriolanus said nothing and turned his eyes back to your father.

"You made a deal with Mr Grenge for 300 million panams. So my price for Y/N is 300 million panams"

"that's everything" he father mutters.

'She is everything". You didn't believe it. Not to him.

"I-I Can't. I'd be ruined again".

"You could always sell her back. At a discount of course".

'Please" you try again.

"It would be a fun 18 hours for you" Coriolanus taunts.

"we could pay in instalments" you father tries.

"Do i seem like a patient man?"

"Patient enough to wait for your time to strike" Your father is seething, "It wasn't surprise I felt about her being here, only dread".

Coriolanus smirks trying to hide it by rubbing his forefinger across his bottom lip.

" I saw you every time I picked her up from school. Lingering in the background like a parasite. Coriolanus Snow's got eyes for my daughter, I thought to myself, how harmful could he truly be".

He dad crosses the boundary of the living room table. His face contorted with anger.

"Then I saw you dangle that poor district 12 girl in the Hunger games. You were no harmless school boy, I realized, you were your fathers son. And that is a very dangerous thing to be".

"Careful. You don't speak to that school boy now. President Snow is who you address, and you've said enough to get yourself hanged".

You place a hand on Coriolanus shoulder as if to keep him pinned to the chair.

"Y/N I am so sorry. He was gone when I sold you. I thought you'd be house maid to one of the lady's. I never thought he'd get his hands on you".

The old man takes you into his arms. His baby daughter who he threw directly into the mouth of the wolf.

"No sale has been made yet" Coriolanus reminds him, "Do we have a deal of 300 million panems or are you touching some one else's property?".

--------

The first few months in the presidential estate were terrible and Coriolanus saw to it.

You were beaten for everything for quick training. Even things you were sure you did right were wrong.

He had to give it to you, despite your privileged up bringing, you were a hard worker. Every time he checked on you, which was often, you were never found sitting down. Always on the move scrubbing something, dusting something, organizing lien cupboards.

He only caught you once reading a passage from a poetry book kept in the library. Old habits die hard, he supposed. He remembered you loved to read.

You would often read stretched out in the sun during lunch time at the academy garden. Coriolanus would watch from the schools library window, when he should have been studying. You again were interfering with him being the best he could be.

He called upon you during your dinner time. Requesting your presence in his office.

When you entered you saw your headmistress standing on the opposite side of the desk.

Coriolanus sat in his chair, looking bored. His head resting in his hand, not looking at the headmistress or you. Just staring blankly at his desk.

As you enter you can see the wooden Cain and the poetry book laying flat on the desk. Your legs turn to jelly the closer you got.

"President Snow. Headmistress" you greet.

"Which poem was it that caught your eye?" The old women grumbled.

You bring your hands to your chest and wring them together. You were still sore from your beating last night. You weren't sure you could take another one.

"i was only checking the book. The pages seemed loosed".

"Are you suggesting that the presidential estate would house such a book?"

You try and back track on your lie. Blaming lack of sleep and food for your mistake of the falling pages.

Coriolanus reaches for the book, flipping it to a random page and placing it back on the desk.

"Place your hands on the desk and read it" The headmistress demands, picking up the cain.

You face Coriolanus who watches you from his seat. You eyes swell with tears that spilled on it the page. He would keep the book in his draw rather than the library.

''My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk''

The headmistress brings the cain down upon your back, and your sentence comes out as a yelp.

"Or, or, or emptied some dull-ll opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had-saH-Sunk!".

It strikes after each pause. Your hands curl into fists upon the page.

"Tis,not,through,envy,of, thy,happy,lot" You rush and two strikes come down upon your back.

"Cheeky girl!" your headmistress reprimanded.

"But being too happy in thine happines" you slow.

He closes his eyes to the sound of the Cain coming down and images the school garden. Both school children again in the red uniforms. You lay in the sun together. Coriolanus rested his head on your lap as you read out your poem. You stroke his hair and he feels the warm sun on his face.

Your desperate act pulls him from his day dream. He looks at the women before him. A women he owed.

No school children in sight; the President of Panem and a slave take their place.

You finish your poem looking up to him for salvation. You do not receive it.

"Again" he demanded.

He wouldn't leave during your nightly flogging. He would lock the door and free his cock from his trousers. He loved the thought of you so vunruable, so brusied and battered at his command.

He would image you with your dress down, tied to the whipping post as he brought the whip down on you. He imaged your squirming and crying for him. God, there was nothing he loved more than control.

He would wait until the flogging was announced to be over before he would return home.

He was always so sure that you would come to him the very next morning and beg for him to save you from the whipping post. Exchanging anything in return.

-----------

"I am so sorry. I have your mother to look after. She's not been well Y/N"

"Dad you can't leave me here"

"We'll visit" He insisted.

"No you won't"

You both turn to Coriolanus in his chair, half forgotten he was there.

"We'll write to you"

"It won't be delivered"

"I am sorry" your father finally accepted, 'Maybe once I make more money".

"Daddy please" you whine. He won't be given another chance, you know it. You weren't sure this chance was entirely truthful.

"I am so sorry" he repeats pulling away from you. He rushes to collet his things. You aim to go to him, to hold him one last time but Coriolanus rises from his chair.

He takes your hand in a tight grip.

"You'll find a maid downstairs. She'll help you to the door".

Your father looks at Coriolanus with hate filled eyes, but nodded his head in understanding. President Snow held all the cards, you both were nothing but pawns for him to entertain himself with.

'So sorry we could not do business together".

Your father doesn't answer too overcome with emotion of selling his daughter for a second time. He rushes away in shame and you fall to your knees.

Coriolanus lets go of your hand so you could curl yourself into a ball on the floor.

He lets you sob and heave on the floor by his feet. He knew telling you to stop would be a waste of breath.

He waits until you can control your breath again before he crouches down next to you.

He snakes a arm under your side to pull you to his chest. His arm curls around your shoulders to keep you there, while his hand cradles the back of your head. He rests his cheek against the top of your head while you sob. Loudly and painfully, you sob into his chest.

You can hear footsteps pounding down the hall way and you knew it was Clemessia.

"Get her to stop or I'll hang her by her feet in my study. She'll wake the children".

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at her but does not uncurl his body from you to follow her command.

You quieten anyway. It's fine, you tell yourself, you've lost nothing.

You hold your breath counting to a slow ten and then release it a couple of times. It helped regain your composure.

Coriolanus unhooks himself from you and reaches into his breast pocket to pull out his handkerchief. He wipes your face clean from snot and tears with an emotionless expression.

You weren't sure you could walk so when he picked you up and took you back to the bedroom you were thankful to not have to find out.

----------

Coriolanus spits his tea back into the cup.

There was nothing wrong with it. But he loved how panicked you got.

Your lips would part, your eyes fell wide, your chest would puff up.

How could there be something wrong with the tea again.

'i am so sorry, President Snow. I'll make another" You go to take the cup back.

'What's the point? You disturb me every time you come with another pot".

"I'll try not to in the future, Sir".

"what good are your efforts. I've watched you try for the past six months. You only slightly improved".

'i can do better. I will do better".

He loved the grovel.

"maybe the night without supper would help to refocus your mind?"

Your body tensed, and he could feel the anger radiating off you, even if he couldn't see it upon your face.

'Is that a good idea?" he teased.

"Yes, Sir" You tried not to spit the words.

"Good. Then it's settled. Go about your chores".

The next day he offered you a biscuit from his tray, and said nothing about his tea. Even through this one was too sweet for his liking.

It was the first time your hunger overtook your pride. You took it with a small thanks, excusing yourself at the first opportunity.

he watched the camera link. You had gobbled the biscuit down as soon as the door closed behind you.

Once a lady now a beggar.

-------

He took you to the bedroom and laid you down.

You didn't move. You couldn't move.

He talked as he undressed you.

"I know that was painful for you but you needed to see it".

He yanked your dress over your hand, leaving you in only your panties.

You turn from him to your side but he flips you back.

tears still run down your face but you make no noise.

"Why. So you could see it?" you bit.

"At some point you have accept your life here".

He slides your panties down your legs, leaving them on the floor.

"was it true?" you ask, "that we both went to the Academy".

"yes. I had a terrible crush on you for many years". Crush he called it but it couldn't be further from the truth.

"i never even noticed you all those years". The sentence stung him a bit.

He places his lips on your neck and bites down. You wiggle under him, pushing on his shoulders.

"You are making me suffer because you had a school boy crush?"

He rises up and undresses himself from his many layers.

"i am making you suffer because I can". He makes haste with the many buttons on his vest.

His sentence quietens you. He could make you suffer just because he wanted to. he could make your family suffer just because he wanted to.

He rips the clothes from his body, leaving them a messy pile on the floor.

He drags you to the center of the bed and crawls on top.

"In any case who would you rather, me, President of Panem, or some old business man, bored with his wife. That's who you would have gone to".

You try and turn to your side again but his hands catch your shoulders and bring them flat on the mattress again.

"You should really say thank you". He pumps himself over you.

You don't say anything, and your ungratefulness resulted in a harsh hold on your chin.

"Say it. Say thank you" he demands.

"Thank you" You spit hard and fast.

"Thank you, President snow". He nudges your legs further apart and lines himself up to your entrance.

"Thank you, President SNow" he enters you without warning and starts a steady thrust.

It had been years with him. Sex with him wasn't something you even blinked at. On occasion you could have even been called a participant.

But not tonight. You couldn't even rock your hips for your own feeling. You just lay there and take it.

Something about night had made Coriolanus feel like a school boy again, and he took it out in his hard and rough thrusts. He was President Snow and you would remember it.

He begins to sing the national anthem of Panem.

"Oh, Horn of Plenty One Horn of Plenty for us all! And when you raise-ah- the cry The brave shall heed the call And we shall never falter, hmm"

He grunts in your ear. He pushes himself upright where with his new position he places both his hands on your hips and pulls you closer so your legs were hooked over his hips.

"And when we raise the cry-y the brave shall heed", he huffs, "the call and we shall never fall"

He new position gave him deeper thrusts. As the song ends his hips loose their rhythm.

"Oh, Capitol Your glorious diamond shine A tribute to' The darkest days behind Oh! One Horn of Plenty for us all"

He bucks his hips as he leans back over you on the bed, a hand resting by the side of your head to keep his weight off you and the other used to keep your leg over his hip.

He never fully leaves you before he slams back in.

He groans as he cums, letting you milk him of anything he had left. Even after that he remains in you.

Coriolanus lets out a short breathy laugh, dropping your leg and pushing his body down on you. You huff in protest but he doesn't care. Placing small kisses and bites along your skin.

You remain still. Numb from the events of the night. You didn't even say goodbye to your father. You knew you would never see him again.

Coriolanus spent by using you, rests his head on your chest.

"Someday some one will kill you for your wrong doings, Coriolanus". You warn.

He chuckles in response. It won't be by his doll.

----

Years later you stand in the crowd watching Katniss Everdeen raise her bow and arrow at Coriolanus.

You smile waiting for her to let go. You could see Coriolanus's eyes searching for you in the crown, unable to find you as hide amongst the people, before his settles on the eyes of his executer.

"MockingJay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure".

The arrow flies but enters the heart of the Coin.

Coriolanus begins to laugh, blood spilling from his mouth as he does.

As the blood coats his shirt it is a reminder of his misdeeds. Against his people, his family, and importantly you.

You charge taking along a crowd of people with you.

[hobiebrownismygod]

IMAGINE Having miles suprise you by crawling into your room invisible since you guys are long distance- aka live in other dimensions ugh I need to touch some grass

Bonus points if you have strict parents so he cuddles you invisible

Wait this is actually so cute I'm obsessed 😭 I want him so badly istg he seems like he'd be the perfect boyfriend

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .MASTERLIST ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . TAGLIST ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It'd been approximately 4 weeks, 6 days, 7 hours and 57- no, 58 minutes since you'd last seen your boyfriend, Miles Morales. Not that you were counting or anything.

You missed him.

Having an S/O that lived in another dimension definitely had its consequences, with the two of you almost never getting to see each other. Even though you had watches and could travel to each other's homes whenever you wanted, the responsibility of being Spider-man came first, and because of that it made it difficult for the two of you to really make time to see each other.

Then of course, the two of you were also teenagers, forced to attend school and keep up good grades while also shouldering the weight of being literal superheroes. That kind of stuff took a toll on a person. In fact, this particular week had been hard, to the point where you just wanted to curl up in your bed and stare at the pictures of him you had on your phone, silently praying for a chance to see him again.

But you were busy. You had midterms. You had your extracurriculars. You didn't have time.

This particular evening, you'd just arrived home from a late after-school extracurricular and taken a shower, having sat down to start working on your homework for the night when you heard a quiet scratch of the window. You looked back over at the open curtains, seeing nothing. Weird.

But your spider-sense wasn't going off, which meant it was probably nothing. You shrugged to yourself before looking back down at your notes, clutching your forehead in frustration as you tried to grasp the concepts on the sheet of paper.

And then, you watched as a small, bright yellow sunflower drifted down from above you, falling perfectly in your lap. It took a second for you to process the sight before you looked back up, a wide smile spreading across your face. "Hey, sunshine."

"Miles!" You exclaimed as you watched him appear on the ceiling above you, invisibility wearing off. He jumped down, and you immediately jumped up and pulled him into a big hug, leaving the sunflower lying daintily on the floor. "Woah" he let out a soft gasp at how tightly you squeezed him. "I-I can't breathe-" he squeaked out, struggling in your unrelenting grasp.

"I missed you so much." you whispered under your breath, practically burying your face into the soft fabric covering his chest. "Missed you too." he replied softly, arms wrapping around your was it in response to your tight, but welcomed embrace. "You okay? You look tired."

"I'm great." You said, taking a slight step back, looking him up and down with a stupid grin on your face. "I haven't seen you in a while-you look great!" You cringed at your own words, realizing how awkward you seemed.

He chuckled under his breath, lightly smiling back at you, that golden retriever look of his plastered across his face. "You look beautiful as always." He sounded fairly awkward himself, but he was handling it better than you. He pulled you in a little slightly, gently pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Suddenly, both your senses went off. Miles disappeared with a pop, right as your mom entered the room. "Were you talking to someone?" She asked confusedly, looking around. You stood in the middle of the room, hands pinned down to your sides. "No." You lied, giving her a fake smile. "Just studying."

She raised an eyebrow at you before slowly and cautiously closing the door behind her as she left. You let out a sigh of relief, right before you felt your arm being pulled back. Still invisible, Miles pulled you down onto the bed, arms wrapped around your waist as he hugged you.

It was a strange sensation.

"This is so trippy..." you said under your breath. "Huh?" He asked confusedly.

"Nothing." you quickly replied, burying your face in his invisible neck, enjoying the feeling of his warmth spreading around you. "It's a little weird, but this is the easiest way for me to stay here without getting you caught." He laughed, pecking your cheek before leaning in to give you a real kiss, for the first time in a month. You returned it. "Weird is one word for it. But it doesn't matter." you said, shaking it off before snuggling into him.

"I'm just glad you're here."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Taglist: @therealloopylupin2099 @daydreaming-en-pointe @l0starl @niqetine @gwennesy @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @d0ubl-tr0ubl3